Читать книгу Ordeal by Terror - Lloyd Biggle jr. - Страница 8

CHAPTER 4

Adelle pushed her coffee cup aside and leaned back with her eyes closed. Her grandmother, her mother’s mother—of blessed memory—had preached devoutly that every dark night had, somewhere, a glowing candle, every cloud a silver lining, it was always darkest just before the dawn, good luck followed bad, providence rewarded the deserving. Adelle felt deserving enough not to have deserved this, but she had her suspicions about Mondor and Dolan.

They were arguing about mazes—open mazes, T and Y mazes, linear and circular mazes, spatial and temporal mazes. All it proved to Adelle was that Mondor had an excellent retentive memory for obscure information, and she already knew that. Also, that Dolan considered ignorance no handicap in an argument, and she already knew that, too. The pair of them made an odd study in contrasts: Dolan robust, blond, blue-eyed, heavily bearded; Mondor slight, clean-shaven, with dark complexion and dark hair and eyes. Mondor argued defensively, searching his memory for facts. Dolan argued for the fun of it, playing tricks with words.

Adelle turned her thoughts to her plans for the weekend. Bath, book, and bed. Tomorrow, Greenfield Village. Sunday, her date. These two asses were going to argue interminably while she missed all of it.

During one of their infrequent lulls, she remarked absently, “I hope this place doesn’t have fleas.” Dolan turned a frowning, bearded, sideburned face in her direction. “I’m thinking of the amount of acreage you’d be providing for a playground,” she went on. “Why don’t you two exercise your minds on something worthwhile?”

“I suppose a discussion of ways to get out of this hole isn’t worthwhile,” Dolan said indignantly.

“Nonsense. You’re arguing about the theory of mazes, which may have nothing to do with the maze we’re caught in. This one could be a conglomeration or something unique. And you’re talking about mazes used for scientific experiments where there’s a way in and a way out. What if the only exit is through the ceiling? Wouldn’t it be more useful to figure out why we’re here? If we knew that, we’d have some notion of our chances of getting out and maybe even how to go about it. Why is it that no matter how bright a man is, he has to assert his masculinity by acting stupid?”

The two men were glaring at her. “Have you got a sister?” Dolan demanded.

“No, and I wouldn’t introduce you if I had.”

“I merely wanted to make certain the world has only one of you. If you could find it possible to assert your femininity without arching your back and spitting—”

“Just a moment,” Mondor said. He turned to Adelle. “Brothers?”

She resisted the temptation to ask him if he wanted a date. “None. Thank God.”

“Mother or father living?”

“Neither. Would you like a sketch of my family tree?”

“Just a few branches. Any close relatives living?”

She shook her head.

“And you recently moved to Michigan?”

“I arrived here the day before I got my job,” Adelle said. “It was the first one I applied for. Anything else you want me to confess?”

“How many friends or close acquaintances do you have in Ann Arbor?”

“One, a student at the University, but she’s gone home for the summer. I came here because she told me how easy it would be to find work.”

“What about all those dates?” Dolan growled.

“Since when does a date have to be a friend or an acquaintance?” Adelle asked sweetly.

“So you’re a pickup,” Dolan said disgustedly.

“Quiet!” Mondor snapped irritably. “This is serious and maybe even important. Same questions for you.”

“Roughly the same answers. I came to Ann Arbor a month and a half ago to visit a friend, a fellow named Ed Smolett. I had just enough money for gas to get me here. I lived with my friend and did a few odd jobs, mostly manual labor, so I could pay my share of the beer bill and buy typing paper. Ed and I got along well, but he had a few irritating habits. One of them was to ceremoniously read the day’s ‘help wanted’ ads to a jobless friend. ‘Look here, Craig,’ he would said. ‘Starting salary thirty-eight thousand. All you need is five years’ experience and a master’s degree in civil engineering.’ One night he chanced to see the Z-R Publications ad, and he twisted my arm until I agreed to apply. Both of us were shocked when I got the job. Then he committed matrimony and moved to Cleveland, and I took over his apartment. I spend my free time working on my novel. The few acquaintances I have, male and female, are of the beer-talk variety. I see them at the Boheme and a few other places, but I don’t go out regularly, and I don’t always see the same people when I do. Also, I don’t even know the names of most of them, and they probably don’t know mine.”

“No relatives?” Mondor persisted. “No close friends at all?”

“Just the one who moved to Cleveland. Otherwise, only beer-talk acquaintances.”

“Are both of you living alone?”

Adelle and Dolan nodded.

“My answers are similar,” Mondor said. “No relatives, no close friends, few acquaintances. And I live alone. I came here from Nebraska to attend the University of Michigan, and the few friends I had moved on when we graduated. The one person I know well is my landlady, and that’s only because we’re both vegetarians and she wanted bookkeeping lessons. Right now she’s probably cursing me over a warmed-up gourmet vegetarian feast. Except for her, no one will miss me if I don’t go home tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. How about you two?”

Dolan gestured expansively. “It pains me to admit it, but if I fail to see the light of day again, the world will never know what it’s lost. My friend in Cleveland is much too preoccupied with his new wife to waste time wondering what’s happened to me. Even if he found out I was missing, he’d just assume I’d got restless and hit the road again and eventually he’ll get a postcard from somewhere.”

Adelle said, “I have a date with a young man in my apartment building to attend a concert on Sunday. If I stand him up, he’ll wonder why.”

“How long have you known him?” Mondor asked.

Adelle reflected. “I’ve seen him almost every day since I moved in—to say hello and mention the weather. I just got acquainted with him yesterday.”

“Pickup,” Dolan muttered.

“Would he be likely to go to the police because a girl stood him up?” Mondor asked.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Adelle said. “He’d probably draw a few apt conclusions about my character and let it go at that.”

“The same applies to my landlady. She’ll be furious about my not showing for dinner, and I don’t blame her. But the most drastic action she’s likely to take is to carefully rehearse a speech telling me off for not letting her know.” He asked Dolan, “Will anyone let the police know you’re missing?”

“No way,” Dolan said. “It won’t even be noticed, let alone reported.”

“I think that’s another reason we were chosen. All of your predecessors were kept for one week or at most two—just long enough for a thorough investigation—and then fired. There was a word processor who lived with her girl friend and a writer who lived in a co-op. Both of them would have been missed immediately. I must have fit the pattern they wanted, so they kept me while they hired and fired writers and word processors until they found two that matched me. Even so, they’ve moved carefully. It’s been three weeks since they hired Adelle.”

“Score one for Adelle’s devastating female intuition,” Dolan said with a grin and a half bow in her direction. “They wanted people who met certain requirements. When I was hired, I was living with the friend I mentioned, but he’d already made plans to move to Cleveland and get married. They didn’t have to do much investigating to find out I’d soon be living by myself.”

“They’re being stupid if they think we’re all alone in the world,” Adelle said confidently. “We have landlords and landladies, and rent that comes due, and next-door neighbors who know something of our habits—” She broke off because she wasn’t convincing herself. If her neighbors missed her, which was unlikely, they would think she was gone for the weekend. The landlord would respond to a missed rent payment with a reminder, and then a warning, and eventually with an eviction notice. She had no notion of how long it would take before anyone became aware that she had disappeared.

Dolan echoed her thoughts. “If your walls are thin enough for your neighbors to know anything about your habits, they’ll be relieved that you’re gone. If not, they’ll never miss you. Anyway, on Monday morning, Madam herself will report us missing. I’d bet on it. She’ll say it seems puzzling that three employees as punctual and reliable as us would neither show up nor telephone. Can’t you hear her telling a detective, ‘It seems so peculiar, Darlink!’ Of course Madam and all five of the goons will claim they saw us leave work today promptly at five o’clock. They’ll tell the police we were lined up at the door in sprinters’ crouches waiting for one of the many clocks to strike so we could dash out and spend our paychecks.”

“Our cars!” Adelle exclaimed. “They’ll still be in the parking lot!”

“Oh, Christ, don’t be so innocent,” Dolan said impatiently. “You don’t need keys to drive a car. They’ve probably been hidden already, and tonight they’ll be abandoned in three different states just to give the police something to think about.”

“Or peddled to a dealer in stolen cars who’ll make them disappear completely,” Mondor said.

“No dealer in stolen cars would have my heap as a gift,” Dolan said with a grin. “Mine, at least, will be abandoned a couple of states away if they can make it run that far.” He drained his beer can and slammed it down. “Whatever they’re planning for us, I hope it includes restocking the refrigerator. I wonder if they’ll give us steak every day.” He took a deep breath and patted his stomach. “It was a good dinner. The dehydrated potatoes tasted like dehydrated potatoes, but that wasn’t Adelle’s fault. Who does dishes?”

“The cooks,” Adelle said firmly.

“Sounds unfair. I thought they’d included you just for the dishes.”

But Dolan cleared the table with surprising docility and dried the dishes while Adelle washed them. He even cleaned the tray he had used to broil the steaks. Then, while Adelle seated herself again, he went to the refrigerator for another can of beer, cocked his head inquiringly at Mondor—who nodded—and tossed a can of pop past Adelle’s ear. He returned to the table, opened his beer, and announced, “I have the feeling we should try to do something.”

“What?” Mondor asked, sipping pop.

“My feelings don’t convey that kind of message. But I definitely have the feeling we should try to do something. I’d feel exactly the same way if we were sitting on the edge of a volcano that was trying to erupt.”

When the two men resumed their argument about mazes, Adelle decided to acquire some practical experience. She asked Mondor if he had any suggestions.

“A maze is just what the word implies,” he said. “It can be awfully confusing. An animal is much better equipped than a human because it has a keen sense of smell and usually knows where it’s been. For example, if you walk past a number of openings and don’t count them or count your steps, you won’t know which one to take when you return. An animal’s sense of smell probably would tell it.”

“Adelle won’t have any trouble,” Dolan said pleasantly. “She’s an alley cat.”

Adelle chose to ignore him. “Which way did you go?” she asked Mondor.

“Left.”

“Then I’ll go right.”

Feeling like an intrepid explorer venturing into terra incognita, she went to the opening at the other end of the kitchen and turned right. It would be hilarious, she thought, if she found a way out when the men had merely got themselves lost. She walked confidently along the alley until she came to an opening on her left. It led into an alley that looked exactly like the one she stood in except for its shorter length: smooth cement floor, walls of gray metal containing grooves that had black strips of rubber or plastic crossing the floor between them, and a luminescent ceiling.

“Well, here goes,” she told herself. “I’ll soon find out whether I’m as smart as a rat.”

She started off, carefully memorizing each alley she passed through. She made alternate left and right turns, always taking the last opening before the alley came to an end. In that way, she reasoned, she could tell at a glance whether she was making the correct turn on her way back. She walked for five minutes, for ten minutes, moving slowly, carefully plotting her route on a mental map so she could remember it as she passed through one identical-looking alley after another. When she decided she had inflicted enough strain on her memory, she turned back, and she was pleased to negotiate the first intersection with no trouble.

At the second, she knew at once that something had gone wrong. The end of the alley should have been on her immediate right when she turned into it, but it was twenty feet away. She cast about and checked two more turnings before she returned to her original choice. She knew it was correct. Could the maze have changed? How could anyone move a floor-to-ceiling partition twenty feet along the alley and bolt it into place that quickly and without making a sound?

She decided to ignore the shifted wall and trust her memory. At the next intersection, instead of the expected opening on her left, she found one on her right. Either she had made a fatal error, or the way back was blocked.

She told herself, “Don’t panic! The important thing is to keep going in the right direction.” And of course she couldn’t call for help. She wouldn’t give those two clods the satisfaction of knowing she was unable to walk around in a maze for a few minutes without getting lost. She continued along the alley until she found an intersection that led in the direction she thought she should be going.

But now all of the turnings were wrong, and though she tried to keep herself oriented, she became less and less certain of where she was.

“Keep calm!” she told herself. “It’s only a maze in a lousy basement.”

Suddenly she heard Dolan calling. “Adelle?”

His voice came from behind her. She didn’t answer, but she turned and walked toward him.

“Adelle?” he called again, louder. “Hey! Where are you?”

He called a third time before she found the correct alley. He stood at the entrance to the kitchen looking in the direction she had gone. She was returning from the opposite direction. She had almost reached him when he turned and saw her.

“I thought you went the other way,” he said with a scowl.

“I did,” she told him.

“You mean you found your way all around this place and came back from the other side?”

She decided to be honest. They were in serious trouble, and they wouldn’t get out of it by treating it like a parlor game. “Yes,” she said, “but not intentionally. When I started back, nothing was the way I remembered it. I just kept walking in what I hoped was the right direction.”

“The same thing happened to us.”

“What’s going on?” Mondor called from the kitchen.

“Adelle has learned how easy it is to get lost in a maze,” Dolan said.

Mondor was still hunched over a can of pop. “It’s damned easy,” he said. “I told you—Dolan and I managed it in nothing flat. We didn’t go far, and we thought we were keeping careful track of all the turns, but we almost didn’t make it back here. Sit down. We need to talk about something.”

Adelle seated herself, and Dolan dropped onto the other chair and leaned back to balance nonchalantly on its rear legs. “Our mathematical wizard has made a deduction,” Dolan said. “From now on, we’ll refer to him as the Voice of Doom. But he has a point, and I think you should hear it.”

“Have you figured out why we’re here?” Adelle asked.

“I’d rather not know,” Mondor said. “That room with the numbers game—that was a psychological test. Mazes have something to do with psychology. Obviously we’re being treated like psychological specimens, but I have no idea why. What I’ve been thinking about is how to get out.”

“There’s nothing gloomy about that,” Adelle said. “It’s a commendable exercise, and I’ll even second it. How do we get out?”

“I’m afraid we don’t.”

Adelle turned to Dolan. “Have you two been cooking up jokes?”

Dolan shook his head. “He’s serious. Let him finish.”

Mondor squared around and brushed his hair away from his glasses. “It isn’t just serious, it’s deadly serious. Tell me—what’s the first thing you’d do if you did get out? What’s the first thing any of us would do?”

“Report this to the police,” Adelle said promptly.

“Right. All three of us would relish the thought of seeing Madam and her goons in the dock with a judge about to pronounce sentence.”

“What does that have to do with our finding a way out?” Adelle asked. Both Mondor and Dolan looked at her silently. “I see,” she said finally. “If we do find a way out, it means big trouble for Madam and her goons.”

“Right,” Mondor said. “Probably they’re the only ones who know about this place. Certainly all the entrances and exits are carefully concealed. No matter what they tricked us down here for, they’re safe as long as we’re here. But they can’t afford to let us get away. You see—”

“Get on with it,” Dolan said. “Point two.”

“Yes. We probably aren’t their first psychological specimens. They wouldn’t go to the trouble and expense of constructing a place like this for one experiment, and it isn’t brand new. There’s a scorch mark on the counter top, and the sink is yellow where someone left a faucet dripping. Probably there’s other evidence around. If we aren’t the first, why didn’t the others go to the police? If just one person did, this place would become public knowledge, Madam and her goons would face very public criminal charges, and their scientific project would be ruined. So we can assume they’ve taken every precaution to make certain no one gets out.”

“Which probably means there isn’t any way out,” Dolan put in. “If there were one, and we found it, they’d stop us. They’ll be watching us all the time. Mondor is reluctant to come right out and say it, so I will. No matter what they intend to do with us, when they’re finished, we’re finished. They mean for us to stay here.”

Adelle kept her voice steady. “You mean—murder us?”

“One way or another,” Mondor said. “The only alternative would be for Madam and her goons to disappear. Disposing of us is a far simpler solution.”

“You’re just performing a silly exercise in logic,” Adelle protested. “You can’t know anything like that for certain.”

“No, I can’t,” Mondor agreed. “I can only reason from the available facts. So I wouldn’t say it’s absolutely inevitable. I’d rate it about ninety-nine and a fraction per cent inevitable.”