rr.thebrentfordtriangle-第7章

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！


cus…pocus　which　now　filled　the　tiny　room；　it　was　unlikely　that　he　would　have　fathomed　any　purpose　behind　it　all。　The　walls　were　lined　with　puter　banks　bristling　with　ancient　radio　valves　and　constructed　from　Sun　Ray　wireless　sets　and　mandeered　seedboxes。　The　floor　was　a　veritable　snake…house　of　cables。　The　overall　effect　was　one　to　set　Heath　Robinson　spinning　gaily　in　his　grave。
　Norman　spat　dangerously　on　his　palms　and　rubbed　them　together。　He　picked　his　way　carefully　across　the　floor　until　he　reached　a　great　switchboard；　of　a　type　once　favoured　by　Baron　von　Frankenstein。　As　Norman　squared　up　before　it；　however；　he　had　no　intention　of　mouthing　the　now　legendary　words；　'We　belong　dead'；　but　instead　lisped　a　quick　'Here　she　goes'　before　doing　the　business。
　With　a　violent　flash　and　a　sparkler　fizz；　the　grotesque　apparatus　sprang；　or；　more　accurately；　lurched；　into　life。　Lights　twinkled　upon　the　consoles　and　valves　glowed　dimly　orange。　Little　pops　and　crackles；　suggestive　of　constant　electrical　malfunction；　broke　out　here　and　there；　acpanied　by　a　thin　blue　mist　and　an　acrid　smell　which　was　music　to　Norman's　nostrils。
　The　shopkeeper　lowered　himself　on　to　an　odd…legged　kitchen　chair　before　his　master　console　and　began　to　unwrap　his　tiny　brown　paper　parcel。　Peeling　back　the　cotton…wool　wadding；　he　exposed　an　exquisite　little　piece　of　circuitry；　which　he　lifted　carefully　with　a　pair　of　philatelist's　tweezers　and　examined　through　an　oversized　magnifying　glass。　It　was　beautiful；　perfect　in　every　degree；　the　product　of　craftsmanship　and　skill　well　beyond　the　perception　of　most　folk。　Norman　whistled　through　his　gums。
　'Superbs；'　he　said。　'Superbs。'
　He　slotted　the　tiny　thing　into　a　polished　housing　upon　the　console　and　it　slipped　in　with　a　pleasurable　click。　The　last　tiny　piece　in　a　large　and　very　plicated　jigsaw。
　Norman　clapped　his　hands　together　and　rocked　back　and　forwards　upon　his　chair。　It　was　all　plete；　all　ready　and　waiting　for　a　trial　run。　He　had　but　to　select　two　suitable　areas　of　land　and　then；　if　all　his　calculations　were　correct。。。　Norman's　hand　hovered　over　the　console　and　it　trembled　not　a　little。　His　calculations　surely　were　correct；　weren't　they？
　Norman　took　down　a　clipboard　and　began　to　make　ticks　against　a　long　and　intricate　list；　which　had　been　built　up　over　many　months；　scribbled　in　variously　coloured　inks。　As　his　Biro　travelled　down　the　paper　Norman's　memory　travelled　with　it　through　those　long；　long　months　of　speculation；　theory；　planning　and　plotting；　of　begging；　borrowing；　and　building。　The　sleepless　nights；　the　trepidation　and　the　doubts。　Most　of　all　the　doubts。　What　if　it　all　came　to　nothing；　what　if　it　didn't　work？　He　had　damn　near　bankrupted　himself　over　this　one。　What　if　the　entire　concept　was　a　nonsense？
　Norman　sucked　upon　the　end　of　his　Biro。　No；　it　couldn't　be　wrong；　old　Albert　E　had　discontinued　his　researches　on　it　back　in　Nineteen　hundred　and　twenty…seven　but　the　essential　elements　were　still　sound；　it　had　to　be　correct。　Just　because　Einstein　had　bottled　out　at　the　last　moment　didn't　mean　it　couldn't　be　done。
　Norman　ticked　off　the　final　item　on　the　list。　It　was　all　there；　all　present　and　correct；　all　shipshape　and　Bristol　fashion；　all　just　waiting　for　the　off。　He　had　but　to　choose　two　areas　of　land　suitable　for　the　test。
　His　hand　did　a　little　more　hovering；　he；　like　certain　sportsmen　in　the　vicinity；　had　no　wish　to　draw　attention　to　his　project　before　its　pletion。　Caution　was　the　byword。　The　two　tracts　of　land；　one　local　and　one　in　the　area　of　the　object　he　sought；　would　have　to　be　unoccupied　at　the　present　time。
　The　latter　was　no　problem。　Norman　boldly　punched　in　the　coordinates　he　knew　so　well；　thirty　degrees　longitude；　thirty　degrees　latitude　and　the　minutiae　of　minutes。　But　as　to　a　local　site；　this　presented　some　difficulties。　It　was　his　aim　to　conduct　the　final　experiment　during　the　hours　of　darkness；　when　there　would　be　few　folk　about　to　interfere。　But　for　now；　a　little　test　run？
　Norman　snapped　his　fingers。　'Eurekas；'　he　whistled；　taking　up　a　Brentford　street　directory　and　thumbing　through　the　dog…eared　pages。　The　ideal　spot。　The　St　Mary's　Allotment。　The　day　being　hot；　all　those　dedicated　tillers　of　God's　good　earth　would　by　now　be　resting　their　leathern　elbows　upon　the　Swan's　bar　counter　and　lying　about　the　dimensions　of　their　marrows。
　Norman　punched　in　the　appropriate　coordinates　and　leant　back　in　his　chair；　waiting　for　the　power　to　build　up　sufficiently　for　transference　to　occur。　He　crossed　his　fingers；　lisped　what　words　he　knew　of　the　Latin　litany　and　pressed　a　blood…red　button　which　had　until　recently　been　the　property　of　the　local　fire　brigade。
　A　low　purring　rose　from　the　electronic　throat　of　the　machinery；　acpanied　by　a　pulse…like　beating。　The　lights　upon　the　console　sprang　into　redoubled　illumination　and　the　radio　valves　began　to　pulsate；　expanding　and　contracting　like　some　vertical　crop　of　transparent　onions。　The　little　bulbs　blinked　in　enigmatic　sequences；　passing　back　and　forwards　through　the　spectrum。　Norman　clapped　his　hands　together　and　bobbed　up　and　down　in　his　chair。　A　thick　blue　smoke　began　to　fill　the　room　as　the　humming　of　the　machinery　rose　several　octaves　into　an　ear…splitting　whine。　A　strange　pressure　made　itself　felt　in　the　kitchenette　as　if　the　gravitational　field　was　being　slowly　increased。
　Norman　suddenly　realized　that　he　was　unable　to　raise　his　hands　from　the　console　or　his　feet　from　the　floor；　and　someone　or　something　was　apparently　lowering　two…hundredweight　sacks　of　cement　on　to　his　shoulders。　His　ears　popping　sickeningly；　he　gritted　his　gums　and　made　a　desperate　attempt　to　keep　his　eyelids　up。
　The　ghastly　whining　and　the　terrible　pressure　increased。　The　lights　grew　brighter　and　brighter　and　the　pulse　beat　ever　faster。　The　apparatus　was　beginning　to　vibrate；　window　panes　tumbled　from　their　dried…putty　housings　and　a　crack　swept　across　the　ceiling。　Beneath　closed　lids；　Norman's　eyes　were　thoroughly　crossed。　Without　grace　he　left　his　chair　and　travelled　downwards　at　great　speed　towards　the　linoleum。
　All　over　Brentford　electric　appliances　were　beginning　to　fail：　kettles　ceased　their　whistlings；　television　pictures　suddenly　shrank　to　the　size　of　matchboxes；　the　automated　beer　pumps　at　the　New　Inn　trickled　to　a　halt　in　mid…flow；　and　at　the　Swan　the　lights　went　out；　leaving　the　rear　section　of　the　saloon…bar　in　darkness　and　the　patrons　blindly　searching　for　their　pints。
　Omally　groaned。　'It　is　the　end　of　mankind　as　we　know　it；'　he　said。　'I　should　never　have　got　up　so　early　today。'
　Pooley；　who　had　had　carrots　the　night　before；　topped　up　his　pint　from　the　Irishman's　glass。　'Steady　on；　John；'　he　said　in　a　soothing　voice。　'It　is　a　power　cut；　nothing　more。　We　have　been　getting　them　more　or　less　every　Wednesday　afternoon　for　months　now。'
　'But　not　like　this。'
　Old　Pete's　dog　Chips　set　up　a　dismal　howl　which　was　unexpectedly　taken　up　by　Neville　the　part…time　barman。　'Look　at　it！　Look　at　it！'　he　wailed；　pointing　invisibly　in　the　darkness。　'Look　at　the　bloody　thing！'
　Bitow　Bitow　Bitow　Bitow　went　the　Captain　Laser　Alien　Attack　Machine；　scornfully　indifferent　to　the　whims　of　the　Southern　Electricity　Board；　or　anyone　else　for　that　matter。
　In　the　tiny　kitchenette　to　the　rear　of　the　corner　shop　there　was　a　sharp　and　deafening　twang；　and　a　great　bolt　of　lightning　burst　forth；　charring　the　walls　and　upturning　the　banks　of　pulsating　equipment。　There　followed　a　moment　or　two　of　very　extreme　silence。　Smoke　hung　heavily　in　the　air；　cables　swung　to　and　fro　like　smouldering　leander　vines　and　the　general　atmosphere　of　the　place　had　more　than　the　hint　of　the　charnel　house　about　it。
　At　length；　from　beneath　the　fallen　wreckage；　something　stirred。　Slowly；　and　with　much　coughing；　gasping　and　sighing；　a　blackened　toothless　figure　rose　painfully　to　his　feet。　He　now　lacked　not　only　his　upper　set　but　also　his　eyebrows　and　sported　a　fetching；　if　somewhat　bizarre；　charcoal　forelock。　He　kicked　away　the　debris　and　fumbled　about　amidst　the　heaps　of　burned…out　valves　and　twisted　gubbins。　'Ahs；'　he　said；　suddenly　wielding　a　smoke…veiled　gauge　into　view；　'success　I　thinks。'
　Something　had　e　through；　and　by　the　measurement　upon　that　gauge　it　was　a　relativ