American Science Fiction #41 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

yw “42 | “My “eyes waadbved’ to” the corner table. | drew a deoy breath, _, The “Tedger was’ pone. . MY gtiess We can go now, sir.” The driver left the tent. I followed him. and got into the jeep with a growing foreboding. The sun was low in the sky, fading rays dissolving into twilight. I hunched low in my seat, the flesh creeping on the back of my neck as if a gun was sighted on it. Now that Pilon knew I had read his diary, there was good chance-he might try to keep me from getting back alive to Katanga. With the ruthlessness of the fanatic Pilon might feel he owed that much to “the great man” Chet- zisky, A mile from camp the trail broke out of the jungle onto a swaying suspension bridge across a deep gorge, The driver inched the jeep across. Looking down felt nau- seous; a fall and a man was a. shred- - ded pulp. Half way across the span it hap- pened. A rifle cracked. The air whined at my ear. The driver slumped stupidly against me and the jeep swerved crazily out of control. I leaped out on the bridge just as the jeep dropped into the gorge. I ran a few yards and hurled” myself to the boards; a bullet whistled over me. ‘I was on my feet gain Another shot rang over. I thanked God for the | sway of the bridge; it put the crimp in anyone’s marksmanship. I disappeared into the shelter of the jungle on the other side. The battle was joined; it was Pilon’s life or mine, He couldn’t let me Jive, and I couldn’t let him. If I got away, he would get in touch with Chetzisky who: probably wouldn’t wait till the deadline to. pull the switch. ‘ROUCHED in the ‘ais santiine and slightly dizzy from unaccus- fetes exertion, [ watched Pilon stalk- ing across the bridge, rifle at the ready. My breath began to come easier and my head cleared. ' He was across now. He moved fate the trail, eyes straining into’ the shadows. mad notion of rushing him until I ‘realised ‘ih what poor ‘condition | my any wrestling with an outdoor type like ‘STOPWATCH ON’ THk ‘WORLD For’ a’ moment’ I had. ‘is academic life had left me’ for Pilon. Instead I would lure him to the edge of the gorge. undergrowth to look for a stone would be suicide; the noise would attract his attention and fire. As a substitute missile I slipped off my wrist-watch, clipped my pen on the band, and lofted them across the trail into the brush near the gorge, praying they would make enough — noise. They did. Fie ge Pilon turned sharply. ment he listened. I was certain he would hear my heart pounding wild- ly. Cat-like he made his way to the spot where my missile fell, the leafy undergrowth with the rifle. Then, calling on four years as block- ing back at Princeton, I raced out’ of hiding. Pilon half twisted in surprise — aS I smashed into him with a rolling hip block that sent him teetering backwards over into the gorge. I can still hear that long shrill scream of terror echoing in my ear, The impetus of my dive carried me into the bush. I disentangled myself and looked over into the dry rocky bed of the gorge. Two forms Jay motionless there, in dark spread- ing splotches. Thoroughly shaken2 darkening trail to Pilon’s camp, where I collapsed in a stupor an the dead man’s cot, too exhausted for superstitious misgivings, and fell into a deep sleep, In the» morning a native runner went into Katanga to notify the authorities of the deaths and to have another jeep sentout for me. * For ° two days I was held up in’ Katanga during. the inquest and inquiry. Dis- ney flew down to talk with me, angry that I should upset the leisurely rout- ine of his existence. My explanations, : any mention. from which I omitted of Chetzisky, dida’t satisfy him, but comicbooks ec Com), Disturbing the. For a2 mo- probing: j I stumbled’ over the bridge and back along the Fone eel taal rire TA eh 2 »