"Lester Del Rey - Pursuit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Del Rey Lester)

terror.
What had shocked him into losing seven months out of his memory, and still could drive him into
absolute terror at the first sign of them?
He couldn't go back to the room, and his own apartment was out of the question. The rain had stopped,
mercifully, but he couldn't walk the streets indefinitely, dirty and bedraggled as he was. He tried to think of
something to do, but all of his schemes took money which he no longer had.
Finally, he arose wearily. Maybe the apartment for which he had the rent receipt was watched - but he'd
have to chance it. There was no place else.
He'd been accidentally heading toward it, and he continued now, sticking to the alleys until he reached
West End Avenue. He tried to hurry, but the best his tired muscles could do was a slow shuffle.
Light was beginning to show faintly in the sky, but it was still too early for more than a few cars and a
chance pedestrian. At this hour, the avenue was used by only a few cruising cabs, heading toward better
sections. He shuffled along, trying to look like a man on his way home after too much night out. The cat
blood on his clothes bothered him, until he tried weaving a little as he walked, imitating the drunks he had
seen often enough.
He passed an all night diner, and fished for his pennies. But there were several men inside. He went on,
past Fifty-ninth Street, heading for the apartment, which should be near Sixty-seventh.
He was just reaching the top of the hill near Sixty-fourth when a gray sedan sped along, heading
downtown. There were running boards on it, and behind the wheel sat the slim young man who'd given chase
to Hawkes before.
Hawkes tried to duck, but the sedan was already braking and swinging back. It was beside him before he
could realize more than the old clamor of his brain, telling him to run, that he couldn't escape.
The car matched his speed, and the driver leaned far to the right. тАЬWill Hawkes,тАЭ the young man called.
тАЬHow about a lift?тАЭ
The smile was pleasant, and the voice was casual, as if they were old friends. There was no gun in the
man's hands. It might have been any honest offer of a ride.
Hawkes braced himself, just as a patrol car turned onto the Avenue ahead. He opened his mouth to
scream, but his vocal cords were frozen. The young man followed his eyes to the patrol car, and frowned.
Then the gray sedan lifted smoothly upwards to a height of twenty feet, turned sharply in mid-air, lifted
again, and seemed to make a smooth landing on top of a huge garage building!
There had been no roar of jets and no evidence of any means of propulsion.
 The patrol car went on down the Avenue, heading for the diner. The officers inside apparently had
missed. the whole affair.
Hawkes' cowardly legs suddenly came unfrozen. He was conscious of them churning madly. With an
effort, he got partial control of himself, managing to focus on the house numbers.
There were no watchers outside the number he wanted, though they could have been in rooms across the
street. He had no choice, now. He leaped up the steps and into the hallway. His eyes darted around, spotting
a door that led out to the side, probably into an alley. He drew himself together, hiding behind the stairs.
But there was no further pursuit for the moment. The fear that seemed to come before each attack was
missing. Maybe it meant he was safe for the moment - though it hadn't warned him of the car the young man
was driving.
Heat rays! Levitation! Hawkes dropped to his knees as fatigue and reaction caught up with him again, but
his mind churned over the new evidence. As a mathematician, he was sure such things could not exist. If
they did, there would have been extension of math well in advance of the perfection of the machines, and
he'd have known of it as speculative theory, at least. Yet, without such evidence, the devices apparently
existed.
The police weren't in on it, that much was certain. It was more than a hunt for a criminal. What had been
going on during the months he had missed?
His mind shuttled over the spy-thrillers he had seen. If some nation had the secrets, and he had discovered
themтАж But the heat ray would never have been used openly, then; they wouldn't tip their hand. Anyhow, the