rr.thebrentfordtriangle-第23部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ead　on　by　the　students　of　the　Brentford　Temple　of　Dimac　Martial　Arts　Society；　who　had　been　＇warming＇　up　for　their　evening's　training　schedule　with　a　fifteen…mile　run。　Neither　of　these　warrior　bands　having　the　slightest　idea　what　all　the　fuss　was　about；　or　which　was　the　favourable　side　to　support；　had　contented　themselves　with　exercising　their　respective　martial　skills　upon　one　another。　Although　this　did　nothing　to　ease　the　situation；　to　the　crowds　of　onlookers　who　now　lined　the　opposite　pavements　and　crammed　into　every　available　upstairs　window；　it　added　that　little　extra　something　which　makes　a　really　decent　riot　worthwhile。
　With　sirens　blaring　and　amber　lights　flashing；　the　squad　cars　slewed　to　a　halt　at　the　rear　of　a　war…torn　Cadillac。　This　development　was　wildly　applauded　by　the　onlookers；　many　of　whom　had　thought　to　bring　out　stools　and　kitchen　chairs；　that　they　might　better　enjoy　the　event。　As　hot…dog　men　and　ice…cream　sellers；　who　have　an　almost　magical　knack　of　appearing　at　such　moments；　moved　amongst　the　spectators；　the　Brentford　bobbies　went　about　their　business　with　a　will；　striking　down　friend　and　foe　alike。　With　every　concussion　inflicted　the　crowd　hoorahed　anew　and；　like　the　season…ticket　holders　at　the　Circus　Maximus　in　days　gone　by；　turned　their　thumbs　towards　the　pavement。
　To　the　very　rear　of　this　scene　of　massacre；　pressed　close　to　the　wall　of　the　Flying　Swan；　two　bearded　golfing　types　watched　the　carnage　with　expressions　of　dire　perplexity。　'Gather　up　the　map；'　said　John　Omally。　'I　feel　that　we　have　pressing　business　elsewhere。'
　Easing　their　way　with　as　little　fuss　as　possible　through　the　Swan's　doorway；　they　passed　into　the　now　deserted　saloon…bar。　Deserted　that　is；　but　for　a　certain　part…time　barman　who　now　lay　painlessly　unconscious　in　the　foetal　position　behind　the　jump；　and　an　old　gentleman　and　his　dog；　who　were　playing　dominoes　at　a　side…table。
　'Goodnight　to　you　Pooley　and　Omally；'　said　Old　Pete。　'You　will　be　taking　your　leave　via　the　rear　wall　I　have　no　doubt。'
　Pooley　scooped　up　the　map　and　stuffed　it　into　an　inside　pocket。　'Offer　my　condolences　to　Neville；'　he　said。　'I　expect　that　it　is　too　much　to　hope　that　he　will　awake　with　amnesia。'
　'You　never　can　tell；'　said　the　ancient；　returning　to　his　game。　'Give　my　regards　to　Professor　Slobe。'
　
　17
　Professor　Slobe　peered　over　the　pen…besmirched；　match…riddled　map　with　profound　interest。　At　length　he　leant　back　in　his　chair　and　stared　a　goodly　while　into　space。
　'Well？'　asked　John；　who　had　been　shifting　from　one　foot　to　the　other　for　what　seemed　like　an　age。　'Has　Pooley　found　it？'
　The　Professor　pulled　himself　from　his　chair　and　crossed　the　room　to　one　of　his　bookcases。　Easing　out　an　overlarge　tome；　he　returned　with　it　to　his　desk。　'Undoubtedly；'　he　said；　in　a　toneless　voice。　'If　you　will　pardon　my　professional　pride；　I　might　say　I　am　a　little　miffed。　I　have　sought　the　pattern　for　weeks　and　you　find　it　in　a　couple　of　hours。'
　'I　think　we　had　the　natural　edge；'　said　Omally。
　Pooley；　whose　injured　parts　were　now　beginning　to　pain　him　like　the　very　devil；　lay　slumped　in　an　armchair；　a　hand　clasping　the　neck　of　the　whisky　decanter。　'I　only　hope　that　it　will　help；'　he　said。　'Those　lads　are　on　to　us；　and　I　escaped　death　by　a　mere　hairbreadth　this　night。'
　'We　have　by　no　means　reached　a　solution；'　said　the　Professor；　in　a　leaden　tone。　'But　we　are　on　the　way。'
　Omally　peered　over　the　old　man's　shoulders　as　he　leafed　through　his　great　book。　'What　are　you　looking　for　now？'
　This　book　is　the　Brentford　Land　Register；'　the　Professor　explained。　'The　pubs　you　have　plotted　were　all　built　during　the　last　one　hundred　years。　It　will　be　instructive　to　learn　what　existed　upon　the　sites　prior　to　their　construction。'
　'Ah；'　said　John；　'I　think　I　follow　your　line　of　thought。'
　'I　think　my　right　elbow　is　fractured；'　said　Jim　Pooley。
　The　Professor　thumbed　over　several　pages。　'Yes；'　he　said。　'Here　we　have　it。　The　Four　Horsemen；　built　upon　the　site　of　the　cattle　trough　and　village　hand　pump。'　He　turned　several　more　pages。　'The　New　Inn；　upon　this　site　there　has　been　a　coaching　house　for　several　hundred　years；　it　has　always　boasted　an　excellent　cellar　and　a　natural　water　supply。　Built　in　1898；　the　North　Star；　a　significant　name　you　will　agree；　founded　upon　Brentford's　deepest　freshwater　well。'　The　Professor　slammed　the　book　shut。　'I　need　not　continue；'　he　said；　'I　think　the　point　is　clearly　made。'
　'My　collarbone　is　gone　in　at　least　three　places；'　said　Jim。
　'It　can't　be　the　water　supply；'　said　Omally。　'That　is　ludicrous。　Aliens　do　not　steer　themselves　through　space　guided　by　the　village　waterworks。　Anyway；　every　house　in　Brentford　has　water；　every　house　in　the　country；　surely？'
　'You　fail　to　grasp　it；'　said　the　Professor。　'What　we　have　here　is　a　carefully　guided　natural　watercourse；　with　the　acpanying　electrical　field　which　all　underground　water　naturally　carries；　culminating　in　a　series　of　node　points。　The　node　points　channel　the　ley　earth…forces　through　the　system；　terminating　at　the　Flying　Swan。　If　you　will　look　upon　the　map　you　will　see　that　the　Swan　is　built　exactly　one　third　up　from　the　Thames　base　line　of　the　Brentford　Triangle。　Exactly　the　same　position　as　the　King's　Chamber　hi　the　Great　Pyramid。　A　very　powerful　position　indeed。'
　'It　all　appears　to　me　a　little　over…circuitous；'　said　Ornally。　'Why　not　simply　stick　up　a　row　of　landing　lights？　If　these　Cerean　lads　have　all　the　wits　that　you　attribute　to　them；　surely　they　could　tamper　with　the　National　Grid　and　form　a　dirty　big　cross　of　lighted　areas　across　half　of　Britain？'
　'Possibly；'　the　Professor　replied；　'they　might　be　able　to　do　that　for　an　hour；　possibly　for　a　day；　but　this　pattern　has　been　glowing　into　space　for　a　hundred　years；　unnoticed　by　man　and　untouched。　It　is　reinforced　by　the　structures　built　above　it；　pubs；　thriving　pubs。　This　is　Brentford；　nobody　ever　knocks　down　a　pub　here。'
　'True；'　said　Omally。　'We　have　little　truck　with　iconoclasts　hereabouts。'
　'This　beacon　could　go　on　radiating　energy　for　a　thousand　years。　After　all；　the　Cereans　had　no　idea　how　long　they　would　have　to　wait　to　be　rescued。'
　'There　is　definitely　evidence　of　a　cracked　rib　here；'　said　Pooley；　feeling　at　his　chest。
　'All　is　surely　lost；'　said　Omally。
　'I　didn't　say　it　was　terminal；'　Pooley　replied。　'Just　a　job　for　a　skilled　surgeon　or　two。'
　Professor　Slobe　stroked　his　chin。　'At　this　very　moment；'　he　said；　'somewhere　on　the　outer　rim　of　the　galaxy；　the　Cerean　Strike　Force　is　heading　towards　its　homeworld。　Finding　none；　it　will　inevitably　be　turning　here；　guided　by　the　descendants　of　its　stranded　forebears。　Unless　otherwise　diverted　or　destroyed；　they　will　home　in　upon　their　landing　area；　and　I　do　not　believe　that　we　can　expect　any　of　that　〃We　bring　greetings　from　a　distant　star〃　benign　cosmic　super…race　attitude　to　be　very　much　in　evidence　upon　their　arrival。　We　must　work　at　this　thing；　I　do　not　believe　that　it　is　without　solution。'
　'My　ankle's　gone；'　grizzled　Pooley。　'I　shall　walk　with　a　limp　for　the　rest　of　my　life。'
　'Do　put　a　sock　in　it；　Pooley；'　said　the　Professor。
　'But　I'm　wounded；'　said　the　wounded　Pooley。　'Somebody　might　show　a　little　passion。'
　'I　don't　think　you　realize　the　gravity　of　the　situation。'
　'On　the　contrary；'　said　Jim；　waggling　a　right　wrist　which　was　quite　obviously　a　job　for　the　fracture　clinic。　'I've　never　missed　an　episode　of　〃The　Outer　Limits〃　…　true；　I've　been　in　the　bog　during　many　a　tide　sequence；　or　slept　through　the　last　five　minutes；　but　I　know　what　I'm　talking　about。
　None　of　this　smacks　to　me　of　sound　science　fiction。　All　this　sort　of　stuff　does　not　occur　in　the　shadow　of　the　gasworks。　Alien　invaders；　who　we　all　know　to　be　green　in　colour　and　pictured　accurately　upon　the　front　page　of　the　Eagle；　do　not　muck　about　with　council　water　supplies　or　conveniently　arrange　for　the　location　of　public　drinking…houses。　I　take　this　opportunity　to　voice　my　opinion　and　pooh　pooh　the　whole　idea。　There　is　a　poultice　wanting　upon　these　knees　and　more　than　one　of　my　fillings　has　e　adrift。'
　'An　uncle　of　mine　has　connections　with　the　Proves；'　said　Omally。　'If　you　will　sanction　the　exemption　of　the　Swan；　I　might　arrange　for　the　levelling　of　every　other　relevant　pub　in　Brentford。'
　Professor　Slobe　smiled　ruefully。　'That；　I　think；　might　be　a　little　too　extreme；'　he　said。　'I　am　sure　that　a　less　drastic　solution　can　be　found。'
　'Nobody　ever　listens　to　me；'　said　Jim；　going　into　a　sulk。
　'As　I　see　it；'　said　Professor　Slobe；　'the　Flying　Swan　is　the　epicentre　of　the　entire　configuration。　It　has　been　so　aligned　as　to　act　as　the　focal　point。　The　harnessed　Earth　forces　flow　through　the　alignment　and　culminate　therein。　There　must　be　something　located　either　within　the　Swan　or　beneath　it　into　which　the　energy　flows。　Something　acting　as　locative　centre　or　municating　beacon　to　these　beings。　As　to　what　it　is；　I　have　not　the　slightest　idea。'
　'Maybe　it's　the　darts　team；'　said　Pooley。　'We've　held　the　shield　for　five　years。　Perhaps　your　lads　have　infiltrated　the　team　and　are　guiding　their　mates　in　through　a　series　of　pre…planned　double　tops。'
　'You　are　not　being　obstructive　are　you；　Jim？'　the　Professor　asked。
　'What；　me？　With　the　collapsed　lung　and　the　damaged　cerebral　cortex？　Perish　the　thought。'　Pooley　took　up　his　glass　in　a　grazed　fist　and　refilled　it。
　'Now　we　know　where　it　is；'　said　the　Professor；　'it　surely　cannot　be　that　difficult　to　find　it。'
　'But　what　are　we　looking　for？'　asked　Omally。　'You　find　a　great　triangle；　we　find　the　constellation　of　the　Plough。'
　'I　find　it；'　said　Pooley。
　'Pooley　finds　it；'　said　Omally；　'one　thing　leads　to　another；　but　we　just　go　around　in　circles。　What　are　we　looking　for？'
　'I　think　I　can　make　a　reasonable　guess；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'We　are　looking　for　something　which　is　the　product　of　a　high　technology。　Something　which　utilizes　the　vast　power　fed　into　it　and　acts　as　the　ultimate　homing　beacon。　It　must　have　been　placed　in　the　Swan　during　the　last　year　or　so；　for　it　was　only　during　this　time　that　the　Earthbound　Cereans　gained　knowledge　of　their　prodigals'　return　and　wished　to　announce　their　own　presence。'
　Pooley　shrugged。　'Product　of　a　high　technology；　runs　off　its　own　power　supply　and　recently　installed　in　the　Swan。　Can