Blue Smoke and Mirrors td-78

by Warren Murphy

  64

  Unless . . . unless he had killed the electricity. No, that wasn't it, she realized. The compressors still hummed. But there was another sound. A crinkling. Rhythmic and brittle. It was like the slow crushing of stiff cellophane. It started suddenly, and Robin noticed that the fuzzy glow had faded. The white thing now resembled some glossy white creature. The golden veins had faded away. No, they were still there. But they were colorless now.

  Then the apparition spoke.

  Krahseevah!" it breathed.

  Robin Green tried to speak. Nothing came out of her chattering mouth except cold condensation. She decided to scream.

  But before she could summon up the breath for a really good yell, the apparition turned.

  And then Robin Green saw the creature's profile.

  It was featureless. It stuck out like a white blister. Her scream died in her throat. As she watched, the blister contracted, and Robin knew that was the source of the crinkling sound. Inhale. Crinkle. Exhale. Blister. Inhale. Crinkle. Exhale. Blister.

  Every time it took in air, the blister crinkled inward. Then it ballooned out. It was breathing somehow. It was breathing even though it didn't have a nose or mouth or eyes or anything. Just a smooth featureless blister that expanded and collapsed like some gruesome external lung.

  It was too much for Robin Green. She covered her head with the blanket and started screaming.

  "He's here! In here! He's here!" Robin shouted.

  The light went on. The door opened and Remo and Chiun were suddenly in the freezer. Robin shook the blanket off and jumped from her hiding place.

  "Where?" Remo demanded, looking around.

  "Right there!"

  Robin pointed to the rear of the freezer.

  "I don't see anything," Remo said.

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  "Damn! He flew the coop again!"

  Chiun approached the wall, tapping it with his long fingernails. "He disappeared through this wall?" he demanded.

  "I think so! What took you so damn long?"

  "We were here before you finished screaming," Remo insisted.

  "I did not scream," Robin said defensively. "I called for help."

  "Sounded like a scream to me."

  "You are such a chauvinist jerk, you know that?" Robin shouted, clutching herself. She shivered uncontrollably.

  "Remo, do you smell it?" Chiun asked suddenly.

  Remo sniffed the air.

  "Yeah. Electricity. It's very strong."

  Robin Green sniffed the air too. It smelled cold to her. Like old ice cubes.

  "I don't smell anything," she said.

  "There are four steaks missing," Remo said, examining the steak shelf. "The four biggest, thickest, juiciest, most succulent-"

  "Remo!" Chiun admonished.

  "Sorry," Remo said. "I haven't had a steak in years and years. You miss little things like that."

  "Well, don't just stand there," Robin snapped. "He went through that wall. Maybe we can still catch him."

  "Yes, for once this loud female is correct, Remo," Chiun said. "We will search."

  They searched the entire launch-control facility. The post went to full alert. No trace of a white-skinned manlike creature with external golden veins was found.

  "He must have left the facility," Robin suggested at last.

  "We can split up," Remo suggested. "There's a lot of ground to cover. But we can make good time if everyone pitches in."

  "Not necessary," she barked suddenly. "Come on."

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  Remo followed her out to the LCF perimeter. A green Air Force Bell Ranger helicopter was settling to the ground. A major stepped out, clutching his cap against the prop wash.

  Robin ran up to him and said, "Major, I'm commandeering your chopper."

  The major began to bluster, but Robin flashed her OSI card and he subsided.

  Robin waved Remo and Chiun into the helicopter.

  "Step out, airman," Robin told the pilot. "I'm rated for one of these birds."

  The pilot hastily got out of the way while Robin seized the controls. She tested the cyclic control and worked the directional-control pedals while Remo and Chiun climbed aboard. The helicopter lifted off like an angry buzz saw.

  "You handled that major like you outranked him," Remo said over the turbine noise. "Do you?"

  "No," Robin said tartly, "but he doesn't know that."

  "Oh, It's getting dark. Think we can find our phantom?"

  "He was all white and he glowed. He should be easy to spot," Robin explained over the rotor churn.

  "I hate to break this to you," Remo said. "But Chiun and I didn't see or hear a thing."

  "He spoke. You didn't hear that?"

  Remo frowned. "What did he say?"

  "It sounded like 'graseeva' or something."

  "I thought that was you," Remo said.

  "Me? Why would I say something like that?"

  "That's what I wondered. I figured maybe you were muttering under your breath again."

  "You know, if you'd acted when you heard that, you'd have been in time to catch him."

  "And if it was only you, you'd have bitten my head off."

  Robin Green was silent for a long while as she canted the Bell Ranger in spiraling circles.

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  "You're right," she said finally in a quiet voice. "I'm sorry. There was something else. Something I'm almost afraid to mention."

  "What's that?"

  "Remember the car battery I saw go through the wall the day the jeans were stolen? Well, I just saw it again. It was strapped to the thing's back."

  "Really?"

  "That's not the strange part. It had a brand name on it. It was a Sears car battery."

  Remo looked at Robin Green's tense profile.

  "Don't look at me like that," she said tightly.

  "I wonder," Chiun mused from the back of the helicopter.

  "What's that, Little Father?"

  "Why would an American ghost be speaking Russian?"

  Remo and Robin exchanged glances.

  But before either of them could ask the Master of Sinanju what he meant by that remark, Robin Green's voice lifted.

  "There!" she called, pointing down. "There in that field. See? He's running."

  A tiny white figure darted between rows of corn. It shone faintly, like a glow-in-the-dark light switch seen from a distance. It made for a solitary tree and popped behind it. It didn't come out again.

  "Must be taking a leak," Remo remarked.

  "I'm going to set her down," Robin warned them "Get on the horn and call for support."

  "Glad to," Remo said, reaching for the radio. "Just tell me how to work this thing."

  "Never mind," Robin said dismally as she settled the helicopter down toward the rippling grass.

  7

  "He's got to be up there," Robin Green said worriedly, shining a flashlight up into the thick tangle of oak branches. She held her automatic in the other hand. It was cocked and aimed upward.

  The helicopter sat only a hundred yards away, its rotors whirling quietly. The lazy backwash stirred the leaves and her short red hair.

  Remo stared up into the tree. "I don't see anyone," he said. "How about you, Chiun?"

  Chiun walked around the thick tree bole, his parchment lips compressed in concentration. "No," he admitted.

  "Well, we know he ducked behind this tree," Robin said peevishly. "I saw him. We all saw him."

  "Guess so," Remo said vaguely.

  "Possibly," Chiun remarked. His hazel eyes were intent on the ground.

  "This is the only tree on this field," Robin said. When no one replied, she went on: "Look, let's approach this rationally. We saw him go behind the tree. He's not behind the tree. Okay. But we know he didn't run away from the tree, otherwise we would have spotted him. Ergo, he's up the tree."

  "If he were up there, he would glow," Remo pointed out. "We'd see him."

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  69

  "One of us sho
uld go up there to make sure," Robin suggested.

  "Waste of time," Remo said, looking around the field.

  "Then I'll go," Robin said, tucking her light into her belt. She uncocked her automatic and bolstered it. Then she shinnied up the thick bole until she got hold of a solid branch, and levered herself into the crotch of a limb. She pulled out her flashlight, shining it this way and that.

  "I take back what I said about that one," Chiun told Remo as they watched her throw light around.

  "What do you mean?"

  "She is correctly named. She refers to everything, whether it is an atomic missile or a helicopter, as a bird. Now she is demonstrating that she is perfectly at home perched on a tree branch. She is indeed a robin, even is she is not truly green."

  "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear that, Little Father." Remo cupped his hands to his mouth. "See anything?" he called up.

  Robin Green peered down through the thickening dusk.

  "No," she said wonderingly. "I don't understand this. We all saw him go behind this very tree. But there are no footprints leading away."

  "And there are none leading to it," Chiun pointed out. "Except our own."

  "What?" Robin Green scrambled down the tree, agile as a monkey.

  "Damn these jugs," she said, fixing her blouse. "My buttons came loose while I was up there. You'd think the Air Force would design their uniforms to take the full-figured woman into account." She looked up. "Well, you don't have to stare."

  "I was not staring," Chiun said indignantly.

  "I meant him," Robin retorted, indicating Remo,

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  who then pretended to look away. "I'll never fathom the American male fascination with boobs."

  "Like attracting like," Chiun muttered. Remo shot him a withering glance.

  "Now, what's this about no footprints?" Robin demanded, once more presentable.

  "Behold," Chiun said, pointing to the dusty earth. The tree was surrounded by the patchwork of many feet.

  "This is mine," Robin said, kicking at one set of prints."

  "And these are mine," Chiun said, pressing his sandal into a delicate footprint. It fitted perfectly. "And these ridiculously large ones are Remo's, of course," Chiun added.

  "No, some of them must belong to that thing," Robin countered. "We all saw him come this way. You, Remo, come with me. We'll do a process of elimination."

  "Why me, Lord?" Remo asked the heavens. But he allowed Robin to lead him around the tree. Each time he stepped into one of the large footprints, it fitted. And Robin then would erase it with the heel of her boot.

  When they were done, all that remained were her footprints and those of the Master of Sinanju. And a string of tracks belonging to all three leading back to the helicopter.

  "No strange footprints coming. No footprints going away," Robin moaned. "How am I going to explain this? How the hell am I going to write this up? They already have a psychiatric notation in my files from the other day."

  "Look, we're wasting time here," Remo pointed out. "Obviously he got away. Let's get upstairs again. Maybe we can spot him from the air."

  "No. No. He came to this tree. He's still here. I don't care if he is a ghost and doesn't leave footprints. This is wide-open space. We would have seen him

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  running off. He's somewhere around this damn tree. We just have to figure out where."

  "Okay, tell me where to start looking and I will," Remo said.

  "I don't know," Robin moaned unhappily.

  At that moment a dusty station wagon pulled up. A farmer in overalls cranked down the window and put his seamed face out.

  "Something wrong here, folks?" he drawled.

  "Do you own this field?" Robin asked him.

  "All but what the government took for their dang silo."

  "Then I'm sorry. But I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Robin told him. "This is an official Air Force investigation. You'll be notified of the seizure."

  "What seizure? What are you seizing?"

  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate this tree in the name of the U.S. Air Force."

  "That there tree? What's it done?"

  "That's classified. Now, could you please be on your way?"

  The farmer stared at them. His eyes went to Robin, then to Remo, and finally to Chiun, who stood magnificent in his blue-and-white silk kimono.

  "I'm gonna have to check on this, you know," he said, putting the station wagon into reverse.

  After he was gone, Remo had what he thought was a reasonable question.

  "How do you confiscate a tree?"

  "With chain saw and winches," Robin retorted. "Now, excuse me while I radio for equipment." She started walking back to the helicopter.

  The ground shook suddenly. She whirled.

  "What the hell?" she blurted, beholding a curious sight. Remo was on one side of the tree, Chiun on the other. Remo kicked at the base of the tree. It shuddered violently. Remo's foot left a distinctly noticeable dent. Then Chiun kicked at the opposite side. He

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  kicked a little higher than Remo had. About a foot higher. His delicate sandals left a dent too. Then Remo kicked again.

  As Robin Green watched with her mouth going slowly from merely parted to wide open, they switched off until the tree was poised on a thickness no larger than a strong man's thigh.

  Remo stepped back and the Master of Sinanju pressed his hand against the tree. It snapped with a thunderous sound.

  "Timberrr!" Remo shouted. He was grinning. It was the grin of a happy idiot, Robin thought. The show-off. Then her eyes flicked from Remo's too-wide grin to the space where the tree no longer stood.

  Standing there, its feet sunk into the stump like some kind of life-sized Oscar statuette, was the thing.

  "There it is!" Robin screeched. "There's the bastard!"

  Remo's grin vanished. He turned.

  And he saw it too. Tall as a man, a fuzzy glowing white and covered with moving streams of golden light. Its face was a bubble that collapsed and expanded even as they focused on it.

  Then, carefully, silently, the thing stepped out from the stump and stalked away.

  Chiun reacted first. He leaped for it, one foot extended in an attack thrust.

  Remo saw the impossible. His skirts flaring, the Master of Sinanju was descending in a Heron Drop maneuver. He was going to take the thing's head right off. But when his foot seemed about to make contact, the thing continued running, oblivious of Chiun's lightning kick.

  Chiun hit the ground in a ball. He snapped to his feet, his cheeks puffed out in fury.

  Remo flashed past him. Chiun, racing, caught up with Remo.

  "He is mine," Chiun hissed explosively.

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  "You missed. How could you miss?" Remo demanded. "You never miss."

  "I did not miss. My foot touched him. But there was no substance to receive the biow."

  "Yeah? Watch this," Remo said. He pulled out in front of Chiun. He was gaining ground on the thing, who might not leave footprints in loose dirt, but was no sprinter. It clumped along like it had flat feet.

  Remo recognized the battery on its back. White cables led from it to the creature's shoulders. As Remo gained ground, the thing turned its head to see its pursuers, and Remo saw again that weird bubble of a face, soundlessly expanding and contracting like a bladder.

  The white thing tried to zigzag. But its movements, for all their eerie silence, were awkward.

  Remo zipped out in front of him. The creature dodged clumsily. Remo was too quick. He wrapped his arms around its waist.

  "Got him!" he shouted.

  But Remo's elation was momentary. He realized he hadn't connected, and the force of his leap was carrying him through and beyond the thing. Remo recovered and tried again.

  The thing weaved. Remo was quicker. He tried to swat its head. The blow kept on going. Remo felt no contact. No nothing. It was like grabbing at smoke- except smoke could be disturbed or dispell
ed. The creature simply kept moving.

  Then the thing stopped still. It folded its arms. Tucked in the crook of one arm were two steaks wrapped in butcher paper.

  Chiun caught up. He took a position on one side of it, Remo on the other.

  "Care to try again?" Remo asked.

  "Yes. I owe this vile thing retribution for the humiliation of my fall."

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  "Good luck. I don't think you're going to accomplish much."

  The Master of Sinanju circled the white thing warily, like a hunter before a sleeping beast. He feinted with a hand. The thing's featureless head flinched.

  "Hah!" Chiun exulted. "This monstrosity fears harm. It can know pain. And if it knows pain, we need only find its weak points."

  But when the Master of Sinanju attempted to knock the thing's feet out from under it, it simple stood there like a pillar of wan light. Chiun kicked again. He kicked a third time. All to no effect.

  In frustration, the Master of Sinanju left off his careful circling. He stepped up to the thing and methodically tried to kick it in the shins, alternating left and right shins. He looked like a fussy little hen scratching at gravel.

  The creature just stood there in silence, its blister face working noiselessly. Remo timed the contractions. They corresponded to a normal human respiration cycle. A tight smile warped his mouth. It was human enough to breathe, at least.

  Remo tried a rear approach. He put his hands into the battery. They disappeared as if into milk. Remo kept his hands in there. He felt no sensations. Neither heat nor cold. There was no sound or discernible vibration. Only steady clods of dirt passing through the creature's form to land on Remo's Italian loafers.

  Remo stepped around to the front.

  "Might as well give up, Little Father," he told Chiun. "You're not going to make an impression on this guy."

  "And what would you have me do?" Chiun said, still kicking up dirt.

  "I don't know. But for once, let's try to figure this out calmly."

  "I am calm," Chiun insisted as he tried to crush the

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  thing's toes with repeated stamping motions. All that he accomplished was to shake the ground.

  Remo examined the thing from the front. He saw that its entire body was enveloped in some luminous material. It seemed to shine from within. Remo looked closer. The golden traceries, he saw, were less like a web than veins. They suggested circuitry. Remo saw junctures at several spots. The hands were encased in what Remo saw were white gloves, and the feet in white boots. Remo noticed that the boots had unusually thick soles. The creature appeared to be about five-foot-five-but three inches of that was boot sole.