[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Turning thebench upside-down, they tapped it, knocked it, kicked it, dideverytbing but run a large magnifying glass over it.Watching this operation, Leeming encouraged them byemitting a sinister snigger.There had been a time when hecould not have produced a sinister snigger even to win a verylarge bet.But he could do it now.The ways in which a mancan rise to the occasion are without limit.Giving him a look of sudden death and total destruction,a guard went out, staggered back with a heavy ladder,mounted it and suspiciously surveyed the window-gap.As anintelligent examination it was a dead loss because his mindwas concerned only with the solidity of the bars.He graspedeach bar with both hands and shook vigorously.His fingersdid not touch the thread of wire nor did his eyes detect it.Satisfied, he got down and tottered out with the ladder.The others departed.Leeming dressed himself, listened atthe spy-hole.Just a very faint hiss of breath and occasionalrustle of clothes nearby.He sat on the bench and waited.Inshort time the lights blazed on and the spy-hole popped open.Stabbing two fingers toward the hole, he declaimed, "Diefaplap!"The hole snapped shut.Feet moved away, stamping muchtoo loudly.He waited.After half an hour of complete silencethe eye offered itself again and for its pains received anothertwo-fingered curse.Five minutes later it had yet another be-stowed upon it.If it was the same eye all the time, it wasa glutton for punishment.This game continued at erratic intervals for four hoursbefore the eye had had enough.Leeming immediately madeanother coiled loop, gabbled through it at the top of hisvoice and precipitated another raid.They did not strip himand search the cell this time.They contented themselves withconfiscating the gadget.And they showed symptoms of aggra-vation.There was just enough wire left for one more blood-pres-sure booster.He decided to keep it against a future need and get some sleep.Inadequate food and not enough slumberwere combining to make inroads upon his physical reserves.Flopping full length on the bench, he sighed and closedred-rimmed eyes.In due time he started snoring fit to sawthrough the bars.That caused a panic in the passage andbrought the gang along in another rush.Wakened by the uproar, he damned them to perdition.Then he lay down again.He was plain bone-tired - but sowere they.He slept solidly until midday without a break except forthe usual lousy breakfast.Then came the usual lousy dinner.At exercise time they kept him locked in.He hammered andkicked on the door, demanded to know why he wasn't beingallowed to walk in the yard, shouted threats of glandulardissection for all and sundry.They took no notice.So he sat on the bench and thought things over.Perhapsthis denial of his only measure of freedom was a form ofretaliation for making them hop around like agitated fleasin the middle of the night.Or perhaps the Rigellian wasunder suspicion and they'd decided to prevent contact.Anyway, he had got the enemy bothered.He was messingthem about single-handed, far behind the lines.That wassomething.The fact that a combatant is a prisoner doesn'tmean he's out of the battle.Even behind thick walls he canstill harass the foe, absorbing his time and energy, under-mining his morale, pinning down at least a few of his forces.The next step, he concluded, was to widen and strengthenthe curse.He must do it as comprehensively as possible.Themore he spread it and the more ambiguous the terms inwhich he expressed it, the more plausibly he could grab thecredit for any and every misfortune that was certain to occursooner or later.It was the technique of the gypsy's warning.People tendto attach specific meanings to ambiguities when circum-stances arise and shape themselves to give special meanings.People don't have to be very credulous, either.It is sufficientfor them to be made expectant, with a tendency to wonder- after the event.'In the near future a tall, dark man will cross your path.'After which any male above average height, and not ablond, fits the picture.And any time from five minutes to fiveyears is accepted as the near future.'Mamma, when the insurance man called he really smiledat me.Do you remember what the gypsy said?'To accomplish anything worthwhile one must adapt toone's own environment.If the said environment is radicallydifferent from everyone else's, the method of accommodat-ing to it must be equally different.So far as he knew, he,Leeming, was the only Terran in this prison and the onlyprisoner held in solitary confinement.Therefore, his tacticscould have nothing in common with any schemes the Rigel- lians had in mind.The Rigellians were up to something, no doubt of that.They wouldn't be wary and secretive about nothing.It wasalmost a dead-sure bet that they were digging a tunnel.Prob-ably a bunch of them were deep in the earth right now,scraping and scratching without tools.Removing dirt androck a few pounds at a time.Progress at the rate of a pa-thetic two or three inches per night.A constant, never-endingrisk of discovery, entrapment and perhaps some insane shoot-ing.A year-long project that could be terminated in minuteswith a shout and a chatter of automatic guns.But to get out of a strong stone cell in a strong stone jailone doesn't have to make a desperate and spectacular escape.If sufficiently patient, resourceful, glib and cunning, he cantalk the enemy into opening the doors and pushing him out.Yes, you can use the wits that God has given you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Turning thebench upside-down, they tapped it, knocked it, kicked it, dideverytbing but run a large magnifying glass over it.Watching this operation, Leeming encouraged them byemitting a sinister snigger.There had been a time when hecould not have produced a sinister snigger even to win a verylarge bet.But he could do it now.The ways in which a mancan rise to the occasion are without limit.Giving him a look of sudden death and total destruction,a guard went out, staggered back with a heavy ladder,mounted it and suspiciously surveyed the window-gap.As anintelligent examination it was a dead loss because his mindwas concerned only with the solidity of the bars.He graspedeach bar with both hands and shook vigorously.His fingersdid not touch the thread of wire nor did his eyes detect it.Satisfied, he got down and tottered out with the ladder.The others departed.Leeming dressed himself, listened atthe spy-hole.Just a very faint hiss of breath and occasionalrustle of clothes nearby.He sat on the bench and waited.Inshort time the lights blazed on and the spy-hole popped open.Stabbing two fingers toward the hole, he declaimed, "Diefaplap!"The hole snapped shut.Feet moved away, stamping muchtoo loudly.He waited.After half an hour of complete silencethe eye offered itself again and for its pains received anothertwo-fingered curse.Five minutes later it had yet another be-stowed upon it.If it was the same eye all the time, it wasa glutton for punishment.This game continued at erratic intervals for four hoursbefore the eye had had enough.Leeming immediately madeanother coiled loop, gabbled through it at the top of hisvoice and precipitated another raid.They did not strip himand search the cell this time.They contented themselves withconfiscating the gadget.And they showed symptoms of aggra-vation.There was just enough wire left for one more blood-pres-sure booster.He decided to keep it against a future need and get some sleep.Inadequate food and not enough slumberwere combining to make inroads upon his physical reserves.Flopping full length on the bench, he sighed and closedred-rimmed eyes.In due time he started snoring fit to sawthrough the bars.That caused a panic in the passage andbrought the gang along in another rush.Wakened by the uproar, he damned them to perdition.Then he lay down again.He was plain bone-tired - but sowere they.He slept solidly until midday without a break except forthe usual lousy breakfast.Then came the usual lousy dinner.At exercise time they kept him locked in.He hammered andkicked on the door, demanded to know why he wasn't beingallowed to walk in the yard, shouted threats of glandulardissection for all and sundry.They took no notice.So he sat on the bench and thought things over.Perhapsthis denial of his only measure of freedom was a form ofretaliation for making them hop around like agitated fleasin the middle of the night.Or perhaps the Rigellian wasunder suspicion and they'd decided to prevent contact.Anyway, he had got the enemy bothered.He was messingthem about single-handed, far behind the lines.That wassomething.The fact that a combatant is a prisoner doesn'tmean he's out of the battle.Even behind thick walls he canstill harass the foe, absorbing his time and energy, under-mining his morale, pinning down at least a few of his forces.The next step, he concluded, was to widen and strengthenthe curse.He must do it as comprehensively as possible.Themore he spread it and the more ambiguous the terms inwhich he expressed it, the more plausibly he could grab thecredit for any and every misfortune that was certain to occursooner or later.It was the technique of the gypsy's warning.People tendto attach specific meanings to ambiguities when circum-stances arise and shape themselves to give special meanings.People don't have to be very credulous, either.It is sufficientfor them to be made expectant, with a tendency to wonder- after the event.'In the near future a tall, dark man will cross your path.'After which any male above average height, and not ablond, fits the picture.And any time from five minutes to fiveyears is accepted as the near future.'Mamma, when the insurance man called he really smiledat me.Do you remember what the gypsy said?'To accomplish anything worthwhile one must adapt toone's own environment.If the said environment is radicallydifferent from everyone else's, the method of accommodat-ing to it must be equally different.So far as he knew, he,Leeming, was the only Terran in this prison and the onlyprisoner held in solitary confinement.Therefore, his tacticscould have nothing in common with any schemes the Rigel- lians had in mind.The Rigellians were up to something, no doubt of that.They wouldn't be wary and secretive about nothing.It wasalmost a dead-sure bet that they were digging a tunnel.Prob-ably a bunch of them were deep in the earth right now,scraping and scratching without tools.Removing dirt androck a few pounds at a time.Progress at the rate of a pa-thetic two or three inches per night.A constant, never-endingrisk of discovery, entrapment and perhaps some insane shoot-ing.A year-long project that could be terminated in minuteswith a shout and a chatter of automatic guns.But to get out of a strong stone cell in a strong stone jailone doesn't have to make a desperate and spectacular escape.If sufficiently patient, resourceful, glib and cunning, he cantalk the enemy into opening the doors and pushing him out.Yes, you can use the wits that God has given you [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]