Free The Long Twilight by Keith Laumer Page A

like what you see when the water runs down a bathtub drain."

    "Yes, but that . . ." Fred's voice died away.

    "Now you're getting the idea," Tom said. "We estimate that two-point-five cubic miles of seawater have poured down that hole in the last six hours."

    "But—where's it going?"

    "That's a good question. Let us know down here if you figure out an answer."

    2

    A taxi was parked at the curb before the narrow front of an all-night eatery. The driver was inside, hunched on a stool over a cup of coffee. He turned as the door opened, gave the big man who came in a hard-eyed look, turned back to the counterman.

    "So I told him, I said, what the hell, nobody tells John Zabisky how to drive. I says, look, Mac, I'm eighteen years in the hacking game, and I've drove all kinds, and I don't take nobody telling me—"

    "Excuse the intrusion, Mr. Zabisky," the newcomer said. "I need a cab, urgently."

    The cabbie turned slowly. "How you know my name?"

    "You mentioned it just now."

    "Who're you?"

    "Falconer is the name. As I said, it's urgent—"

    "Yeah, yeah, hold your water. Everything's urgent to you guys. To me this cup of java's urgent."

    The counterman was leaning on one elbow, working on a molar with a broomstraw. He withdrew it and examined the tip, smiling sourly.

    "Refill, John?"

    "Hell yes, sure, why not?"

    "It's worth fifty dollars to me to get to Princeton immediately," the man who called himself Falconer said.

    "Princeton? New Jersey? In this weather? You nuts or something? I wouldn't drive it in daylight for fifty bucks."

    "You're off duty?"

    "Naw, I'm not off duty. Why?"

    "Your license says you'll take a customer where he wants to go— for the fare on the meter."

    "Get this guy," John said, staring at Falconer's smooth, unlined face. "What are you, kid, playing hooky? Your old lady know you're out at this time o' night?"

    Falconer smiled gently. "Like to come outside with me, Zabisky?"

    The husky driver came off the stool in a rush which somehow lost momentum as he crowded against Falconer; he found himself eased gently backward. It hadn't been like running into a brick wall—not exactly.

    "Hey, not inside, John," the counterman spoke up. "But you can take him in the alley. I like to see these wise guys get it."

    The cabby whirled on him. "How'd you like me to come around there and cave in a few slats for you, loudmouth? Whatta you trying to do, lose me a fare?" He jerked his mackinaw straight and gave Falconer a sideways look.

    "I'll take twenty now," he said. "Where in Princeton you want to go?"

    It was a long drive through rain that gusted and swirled across the car glass like a battery of fire hoses. On the outskirts of the town, the cabby mumbled, peering ahead, negotiating the twists and turns of the road down which Falconer had directed him. The headlights picked up a pair of massive wrought-iron gates set in a high brick wall.

    "Dim your lights three times," Falconer instructed as the cab pulled up facing the gates. The gates swung back on a graveled drive. They went along it, halted before wide steps, a colonnaded veranda behind which tall windows reflected blackness and the shine of the headlights on wet leaves.

    "Looks like nobody home," the driver said. "Who lives here?"

    "I do." Rain swirled in Falconer's face as he opened the door on the left side. "We have some unfinished business, Mr. Zabisky," he said. He stepped out and turned; the driver's door flew open, and Zabisky bounded out, a tire iron in his knobbed fist.

    "O.K., mister, start something," he bawled over the sounds of the storm. Falconer moved toward him; an instant later the tire iron was skidding across the drive. Empty-handed, Zabisky faced Falconer, an expression of astonishment on his wide face.

    "That makes it more even, don't you think, Zabisky?" Falconer called. The driver put his head down and plowed in, both fists swinging. Falconer took a solid blow on the chest before he tied him up, spun him, held