It was June, so nightfall wasn't until around 9.00 p.m. I nuked one of those frozen dinners, sat at the kitchen table and ate it. The time now was 7.30 and I wandered back into the drawing room and sat down in front of the clock. Normally, I'd settle down with a nice Scotch and do a bit of reading, but this evening alcohol was out. I'd need all my wits about me.



I turned the clock around so that the back of the movement faced me. I reached over and gently turned the hands so that it chimed the quarter hour, then I took it to the half hour, then the three quarter and finally the hour. What a gong! The clock was a magnificent example of the clockmakers' art. Unsigned, so far as I could tell. I'd have loved to know who made it.

I gently put on the pendulum and swung it. It was what they called a half deadbeat escapement, and the power surged through it, making the pendulum swing strongly from side to side with a tick amplified by the deep wooden case.

Then I turned my attention then to the piece of paper. Artificial Gravity. I went to my computer and looked it up on Wikipedia. The general consensus was that it was so far outside the realms of modern science, it could be a hundred years or more before someone actually came up with a prototype. Well, perhaps not. Perhaps I was holding in my hand the very design that up to now had proved so elusive.

Fascination with this business had made me forget the time. Past 9 o'clock and here was I still fiddling around. I turned off the computer, stood up and took the paper upstairs to my roll-top desk. There was a secret compartment in it, and it was there I placed the paper. The Russian who'd been watching the house earlier would have seen the clock and realized it could have been the hiding place.

I decided to place a chair right by the side of the drawing room doorway so that I'd have easy access to the light switch. I stretched some piano wire across the entrance and took up my position. I purposely didn't choose a chair that was too comfortable. Going to sleep on this particular job wouldn't be the wisest thing to do.

There was nothing else for it, but hurry up and wait. I'd set the big clock to the correct time, and enjoyed the clarity of the bells and the boom of the great gong as it struck ten o'clock, then eleven. Twelve o'clock, and still nothing. Then, the slightest sound at the back door.

I heard the key fall out of the lock onto the stone floor. I'd removed the rug I normally kept there for that very reason, so that I'd hear the key. Nothing more for about five minutes. They were waiting to see if the sound had woken me. Then I heard scratching, and I was just able to hear the tumblers fall. They were in.

There was the slightest sound of shuffling as they made their way along the passage to the hall, off which was the drawing room. Just then, the clock chimed the quarter past. I could see their silhouettes now. Two of them. A quick flash of light across the bottom of the entrance way. The leader saw the trip wire. These characters were pros. I saw him indicate the wire to his mate behind him. Time to act.

I leaped for the light switch, rammed it down, and saw two heads jerk in my direction. Two seconds. That's all you have before your opponent gathers his wits. I brought up the Sig and gave the leader a double tap; high chest and head. He dropped like a stone. I jumped back just as the second man gave a short burst on his sub machine gun. He went the same way as the first. I ducked back to my chair. Were there any more? I'd only seen, and dealt with, two, but that meant nothing.

I sat down and waited. There hadn't been a lot of noise. I noticed that their guns were silenced, and I'd had one specially made for the Sig. I let the clock strike through two more quarters before deciding all was safe. I parted the curtains, but couldn't see anything, despite the fact that there was a clear half moon.

The Sweepers were needed now, and fast. I telephoned a special number in London and told them what had happened. Apparently, the laddie who had brought the clock to me had never returned. Poor little bugger. Eventually, the Sweepers arrived, the bodies were taken care of, and another day dawned.

But they'd be back.

Copyright (c) 2009 Mike Bond