Killing Time
"Come along...?" I echoed again, now completely at a loss.
"Yes." He moved closer to the glass. "I know you're confused--but
try to keep up some kind of a conversation, will you? Otherwise
the guard--"
Kuperman suddenly stopped talking when we began to hear an
extraordinary noise: a deep, insistent hum that seemed to come
from all directions at once, even from inside my own head. It
grew in volume and intensity at a quick but steady rate, until
the metal chairs and tables in the room began to vibrate
noticeably.
Looking up at the ceiling, Kuperman checked his watch again.
"Well," he said, strangely unconcerned. "That was quick. They
must have been closer than I thought..."
As the hum proceeded to grow louder, I dashed to the only window
in the visiting room and looked out into the darkness. There was
precious little to be seen save the lights atop the prison walls;
and then something appeared to blot even those beacons out.
Moving above and across the walls was a dark mass, perhaps as
long as a pair of train cars and twice as high.
"What the hell...?" was all I could whisper; and then I noted
Kuperman's shouting voice coming over the intercom and just
cutting through the ever intensifying hum:
"Dr. Wolfe! Dr. Wolfe, move away from the window, please!"
I did as he said, and just in time too, for the bars outside the
window, loosened by the mounting vibration, suddenly broke free
of their anchors and flew away, while the wired glass panes did
not so much break as explode. I ran back to the partition and saw
that Kuperman's guard, clutching his ears, was screaming in
terror.
"What is it?" I shouted through the intercom. "Kuperman, what's
happening?"
Kuperman smiled; but before he could give any explanation, the
wall behind him suddenly began to vibrate violently. In just a
few seconds it collapsed, the stone falling away and revealing a
10-ft.-square passage into the night air. Once the dust had
cleared, I could see, outside this gaping hole, what appeared to
be a metallic wall about 3 ft. from the violated stone edifice
of the visitors' building; and over the insistent humming I
began to make out the sound of gunshots coming from the prison
yard below.
"It's all right, Dr. Wolfe!" I became conscious of Kuperman
saying through the amplified intercom. "Don't worry! But try to
get under one of those tables, will you?"
Once again my prompt observance of Kuperman's order saved me from
being severely injured, this time by flying fragments of the
transparent partition that had divided us. When I emerged from
under the table and returned to Kuperman, I found him waving an
arm and urging me to climb over the remains of the partition and
join him. Too stunned to refuse, I did so--only to find myself
faced with Kuperman's guard as well as a second officer. Both had
their guns drawn, prompting Kuperman to turn to his man and cry
out earnestly:
"Mr. Sweeney! Please! You don't really think that's going to do
any good, do you? If you and Mr. Farkas leave now, I promise no
harm will--"
Before Kuperman could finish, we were presented with yet another
extraordinary sight: the sudden delineation, by a series of small
green lights, of a doorway in the metal surface outside the hole
in the building's wall. Then, with a decompressing hiss, the door
opened rapidly; in fact it seemed, to my eyes, to almost
disappear. Beyond the vanished portal was a dimly lit corridor in
which stood several figures: two male, one quite distinctly
female. The men wore coveralls; the woman was sheathed in a gray
bodysuit that clung to her with what I might, under other
circumstances, have called enticing tenacity.
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