“Anyway, you’ll get a fair hearing, and you can pick your own defense lawyer. I’ll abide by the verdict, I won’t even act as judge. Whatever the jury says, I’ll go along with it.”
Mangled words came through the gag.
“You can have your say at the proper time,” Sam said. “Meantime, you can sit here and meditate on your sins.”
He closed and locked the door, hesitated, then unlocked it, reached in, and switched off the light. John would suffer more if he was in darkness.
He should have been jubilant. He was not. Somehow, in some way he could not define, his old enemy had triumphed.
Most things were disappointments, but this, this should have been one of the most enjoyable events in his life. His victory was as unappetizing as a steaming dog turd served under glass.
Where to hide the key? Ah, of course^ in the first cabin with an unlocked door. That was three cabins down. He threw the key onto the floor and closed the door. Now to get to Joe. To do that, he would have to have a large number of men behind him.
He went down a corridor which ran longitudinally through the vessel. The lights were off, but he dared turn them on briefly. He ran down its length for a hundred feet, then stopped at another corridor. Here was a stairway that led up to the hurricane deck. After turning the lights off, he went up the steps, aided by a pale square at the top. Once on the hurricane deck, he trotted down the passageway to the starboard side. Noise came to him, but it seemed far off. He peered around the corner onto the walkway. Joe should be somewhere near.
“Why’re you hanging around here, Joe? Don’t you have anything to do?”
“I’m vaitingfor a buth, Tham.”
“A buss? Who’d kiss your ugly mug, Joe?”
“No, not a buthth vith two etheth, you nincompoop. A buth vith vone eth, Vith vheelth and a motor. How in hell vould I know, Tham? I never theen a buth. Get me down off of here before I get mad and tear you apart, you thap.”
Thus went the imaginary conversation, modeled on so many previous ones. But there was no great bulk hanging helpless from a rope. There was a rope, severed at one end and noosed at the other, lying on the deck.
Sam smiled with joy. Joe was alive, unhurt! Joe was on the loose, undoubtedly tearing up th£ opposition.
He turned but stopped halfway. A bellow had come from out on The River. It was a deep cry, one which would have been attributed to a lion or a tiger if it had been heard on Earth. Sam knew better. He ran to a staircase and sped down it, taking two steps at a time, one hand sliding on the railing. On the main deck, he paused. He could not ignore the enemy. But the two fights he heard were far away, one at the prow and one at the stern. There was no gunfire, only the clang of blades against blades.
He ran to the railing and leaned out. “Joe! Where are you, Joe?”
“Tham! Here I am, Tham!”
“I can’t see you, Joe!” Clemens called, peering into the darkness. There were objects floating out there, pieces of timber or bodies, unidentifiable flotsam. Though the boat had been drifting with the current, and the fires on the south bank were bright, the starboard side was now toward the dark northern bank. Starlight was not enough there.
“I can’t thee you either, Tham!”
He looked on both sides and behind him to make sure no one was creeping up on him. On turning back to look outward, he called, “Can you get back to the boat?”
“No!” Joe bellowed. “But I’m floating! I got hold of a piethe of vood! My left arm’th broken, Tham!”
“I’ll get you back, Joe! Hang on! I’ll save you!”
He had no idea how he could help Joe but he was determined to find a way somehow. The thought that Joe might drown panicked him. ‘ “Joe, are you still in armor?”
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