gns.batsoutofhell-第2部分

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　　'So　do　you。'
　　
　　'I'll　catch　up　on　it　afterwards。　I'll　take　a　few　days　off；　and　we'll　spend　'em　in　bed　together。'
　　
　　This　time　they　both　laughed。
　　
　　'All　right；'　she　sighed。　'So　long　as　you're　telling　me　the　truth。'
　　
　　'Don't　be　silly；'　he　snapped。
　　
　　'You　have　a　reputation；　Professor　Newman。'　She　turned　and　wagged　a　finger　at　him　in　mock　severity。　'And　it　is　not　solely　concerned　with　viruses　and　bacteria；　nor　bats。　Birds；　other　than　the　feathered　variety；　have　retarded　a　promising　career　for　you；　and　you　know　it。　That's　why　you're　working　out　here　in　this　hell's　half　acre。　Without　all　your　affairs　you'd　probably　be　in　the　States　now。　Or　Russia。'
　　
　　'And　I　wouldn't　have　you。'　he　stooped　and　kissed　her；　his　lips　and　probing　tongue　smothering　further　accusations。
　　
　　Finally　they　disengaged。　'Now　go　back　and　get　some　rest。'　he　said。　'I'll　maybe　snatch　an　hour　or　two　on　the　couch。　But　I've　got　to　see　this　thing　through　to　the　end。'
　　
　　'All　right。'　she　agreed　and　began　unbuttoning　her　overall。　'See　you　in　the　morning；　Brian。　Enjoy　the　pany　of　your　bats。'
　　
　　He　watched　her　walk　from　the　laboratory；　his　discerning　gaze　appreciating　her　posture；　the　straight　back；　the　natural　swing　of　her　hips；　the　long；　blonde　hair。　He　locked　the　door　behind　her；　and　turned　his　attention　back　to　the　cage　of　death。
　　
　　The　bats　were　going　crazy；　fluttering；　squeaking；　buffeting　one　another；　tumbling；　battering　themselves　against　the　sides　of　the　glass　as　though　determined　to　smash　it。　Another　one　was　dying；　but　this　time　it　was　almost　instantaneous。　One　second　it　had　been　hurling　itself　frantically　at　the　toughened　glass；　the　next　it　was　lying　quivering　on　the　floor　amidst　the　corpses　of　its　fellows；　limbs　shuddering；　stiffening。　Its　eyes　seemed　to　meet　his　and　they　glittered　accusingly；　with　sheer　malevolence。　Blaming　Man；　as　though　in　its　last　seconds　it　understood。
　　
　　Brian　Newman　shuddered　and　turned　away。　The　symptoms　followed　an　identical　pattern；　yet　in　every　case　the　incubation　period　varied。　Possibly　some　were　more　resistant　to　the　mutated　virus　than　others。　It　was　the　way　with　most　diseases。　He　walked　to　the　window　and　looked　out。　A　red　Mini　was　disappearing　down　the　rough　track　which　led　to　the　road　beyond　the　belt　of　tall　trees。　He　could　tell　by　the　way　Susan　drove　that　she　was　angry。　She　didn't　trust　him；　and　he　couldn't　blame　her。
　　
　　He　took　off　his　white　coat　and　hung　it　on　a　peg　by　the　door。　Hell；　life　was　getting　too　plicated　all　round。　A　grey　telephone　stood　on　the　desk　in　the　far　corner；　and　he　knew　that　he　could　settle　everything　so　easily。　One　quick　call　could　remove　Fiona　from　his　life　before　they　became　further　involved。　Then　he　could　go　back　to　Susan；　forget　Fiona；　the　bats；　the　killer　virus；　everything。
　　
　　He　walked　slowly　across　the　room；　and　his　hand　rested　on　the　telephone。　Then　he　changed　his　mind。　Logic　and　a　physical　urge　battled　inside　him。　The　latter　won；　and　he　flicked　up　the　night…switch　on　the　small　panel。　He　couldn't　chance　Susan　ringing　him　here　tonight　and　discovering　that　he　had　left　the　lab。
　　
　　He　stepped　out　into　the　corridor；　locking　the　door　behind　him　and　pocketing　the　key。　Muted　voices　reached　him　from　inside　other　rooms　as　he　made　his　way　slowly　towards　the　exit。　Susan　had　been　right　in　what　she　said；　he　decided。　He　was　nothing　more　than　a　cog　in　a　mighty　wheel。　His　experiments　were　minor　when　pared　with　some　that　were　being　conducted　here　at　the　Research　Centre。　Yet；　suddenly；　his　was　the　most　vital　of　all。　Something　had　gone　wrong；　not　necessarily　through　his　fault。　The　whole　project　had　to　be　eliminated　and　then　he　could　return　to　being　an　ordinary　run…of…the…mill　boffin。　Somehow；　he　had　to　forget。
　　
　　'Brian！'
　　
　　He　halted　and　turned　around　slowly；　recognising　Haynes's　voice。　The　latter　stood　in　the　doorway　of　his　office；　tall　and　imposing；　thick…rimmed　spectacles　giving　him　an　owlish　appearance；　a　personification　of　authority。　Newman　looked　at　him　steadily　without　speaking。
　　
　　'I　haven't　had　a　progress　report　from　you；'　there　was　a　hint　of　reprimand　in　Haynes's　words。
　　

　　'No；'　Newman　replied。　'For　two　reasons。　First；　I've　been　working　day　and　night。　Second；　there's　nothing　to　report。　Only　failure。'
　　
　　'Failure！'
　　
　　'Distinguishing　between　bacterial　and　viral　meningitis　is　impossible　in　the　early　stages　of　incubation。'
　　
　　'Difficult；　but　not　impossible。　In　similar　experiments　bats　have　proved　to　be　more　useful　than　rats。　They　assisted　in　the　perfection　of　the　latest　measles　vaccine。　There's　no　reason　why　this　experiment　should　not　succeed。'
　　
　　'Well；　it　hasn't；　and　furthermore　it　won't；'　Professor　Newman　snapped。
　　
　　'I'd　like　a　second　opinion。　You　should　have　consulted　Professor　Rickers　instead　of　locking　yourself　away　in　your　lab　for　days　on　end　with　that　girl。'
　　
　　Brian　Newman's　fists　clenched；　and　he　had　to　hold　himself　in　check　with　a　conscious　effort。　The　implication　was　not　lost　on　him。
　　
　　'Miss　Wylie　has　been　my　assistant　for　two　years　now。　She　is　perfectly　capable　of　assisting　in　any　experiment　which　I　undertake。　I　don't　want　Rickers；　and　I　don't　need　him。'
　　
　　'Well；　I　want　him　to　have　a　look　at　those　bats　you've　injected。　I'll　ask　him　to　call　in　tomorrow　afternoon。　He's　got　a　couple　of　American　students　working　with　him；　and　I　want　them　to　see　as　much　of　everything　as　possible　during　their　stay　here。'
　　
　　'I　won't　have　students　messing　about　in　my　lab；'　Newman　spoke　softly；　scarcely　louder　than　a　whisper；　but　his　anger　was　only　too　evident。
　　
　　'Now　look　here；　Brian；'　Haynes　adjusted　his　spectacles　in　the　way　he　always　did　when　he　wished　to　enforce　his　authority。　'I'm　running　this　Centre；　and　although　I　give　you　a　pretty　free　hand　most　of　the　time；　I'm　not　going　to　issue　negative　reports　without　second　opinions。　Professor　Rickers　will　check　on　the　bats　tomorrow；　and　it's　no　good；　you　getting　all　steamed　up　about　it。1
　　
　　Brian　Newman　turned　abruptly；　and　without　another　word　pushed　his　way　through　the　glass　swing　doors　and　out　into　the　early　evening　sunlight。　Anger　at　Haynes　seethed　inside　him；　but　more　than　that　he　experienced　a　sensation　of　fear。　Death　in　its　most　terrible　form　was　contained　in　a　single　glass　cage　in　his　laboratory。　Disease；　a　type　of　plague；　perhaps；　was　trapped　in　there。　Rickers　would　insist　on　opening　it　up　whilst　some　of　the　infected　creatures　were　still　alive；　and　there　was　no　way　that　could　be　allowed　to　happen；　for　the　sake　of　life　upon　Earth。
　　
　　The　Shoal　Hill　Tavern　was　crowded。　Brian　Newman　worked　his　way　from　the　bar；　slopping　beer　and　whisky　as　he　negotiated　the　human　obstacle　course；　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　petite；　dark…haired　girl　who　was　seated　at　the　table　in　the　corner；　patiently　awaiting　his　return。　Fiona　Bradbury　glanced　up　and　smiled；　tiny　slim　ringers　reaching　out　for　the　glass　which　he　pushed　across　the　Formica　surface　towards　her。
　　
　　'Perhaps　we　should　have　gone　somewhere　else　tonight。'　she　said。　'I've　never　known　it　this　crowded　on　a　Thursday　before。'
　　
　　'Maybe　we'll　go　somewhere　else　later；'　Newman　replied；　and　took　a　long　drink　from　his　glass。
　　
　　'What's　the　matter；　Brian？'　she　asked　a　few　minutes　later。　'There's　something　on　your　mind。　Is　it　that　girl　you're　shacked　up　with？'
　　
　　'No；'…his　answer　was　unconvincing；　even　to　himself。　'Not　really。　No　problems　there。　Just　one　or　two　things　in　the　lab　which　I've　got　to　get　sorted　out。　I　can't　talk　about　them；　so　please　don't　ask　me。'
　　
　　'All　right；'　she　relaxed　a　little。　'But　it's　that　girl　I'm　worried　about。　Damn　it　all；　you're　not　even　married　to　her！　No　divorce　problems。　You　can　kick　her　out　tomorrow。'
　　
　　'So　that　you　can　move　in？'
　　
　　'If　you　want　me　to。　I　don't　see　any　reason　why　not。　Anyway；　we　can't　go　on　sneaking　off　like　this　as　though　we've　got　to　hide　from　the　world。　We're　both　free；　so　let's　cut　out　the　cloak　and　dagger　stuff。'
　　
　　Newman　nodded。　Hell；　why　did　women　always　get　so　possessive？　Why　couldn't　they　be　satisfied　with　a　good　time　every　now　and　then　in　return　for　a　screw　on　the　back　seat　of　some　guy's　car？　It　didn't　cost　them　anything。
　　
　　He　tried　to　weigh　Susan　and　Fiona　against　each　other　in　his　own　mind。　There　wasn't　much　to　choose　between　them。　They　were　both　sexy；　both　attractive。　It　didn't　really　matter　which　he　picked　either　way；　except　that　Susan　understood　him。　She　knew　how　things　were　in　the　laboratory；　the　measure　of　success　or　failure；　the　satisfactions；　the　disappointments。　That　was　something　Fiona　would　never　prehend。　One　thing　was　certain；　though。　He　couldn't　run　the　two　of　them　much　longer；　it　had　to　be　one　or　the　other。　Right　now　the　choice　was　his；　but　shortly　it　might　be　made　for　him　if　Susan　found　out。
　　
　　'Let's　take　a　ride；'　he　finished　his　beer　and　looked　at　her。
　　
　　'If　you　say　so；　but　all　this　back…seat　stuff　is　getting　a　bit　boring；　Brian。　Christ；　when　there's　a　fortable　bed　back　at　your　place；　why　the　hell　do　we　have　to　play　at　contortionists　in　the　car　on　a　chilly　night？'
　　
　　'You　know　damned　well　why。'
　　
　　'Yes；　I　guess　I　do；'　she　stood　up　and　adjusted　her　dress。　'But　not　for　much　longer。　You　either　want　me　or　you　don't。'
　　
　　He　followed　her　out　of　the　lounge　bar；　again　making　parisons；　remembering　Susan's　wiggle　as　she　had　walked　from　the　laboratory　a　few　hours　earlier。　Physically　there　was　little　to　choose　between　them。　It　would　be　a　hard　decision　when　he　finally　had　to　make　it。
　　
　　The　car…park　was　full　as　they　walked　along　an　avenue　of　badly　positioned　vehicles。　Cars　had　never　interested　Brian　Newman。　They　were　simply　a　mechanical　means　of　getting　from　one　place　to　another　in　the　shortest　possible　time。　Yet　tonight；　for　some　inexplicable　reason；　he　found　himself　pelled　to　run　his　eye　over　them。　Every　third　one　seemed　to　be　a　Mini。　It　was　the　red　ones　which　claimed　his　attention。　He　found　himself　glancing　at　their　registration　numbers；　his　mouth　dry　even　after　three　pints　of　beer；　tension　building　up　inside　him。　Suddenly　he　stiffened；　his　stomach　muscles　contracting。　He　felt　sick。　The　letters　and　numbers　on　the　front　pl