Michael Moorcock - A Cure For Cancer (Chap. 3) lyrics

U. S. Navy ships turned 'pirate'!!! Koutrouboussis had given him his route plan, but how he crossed from Dover to Ostend was his own affair. It was more than twenty miles of sea, and three miles out was the tight circle of well-armed U. S. 'pirate' radio ships. Jerry's Phantom VI, a streak of pink power on the white, sparkling road, roared through the clear sunlight of the autumn afternoon, making for Dover. Wearing his Panda-skin coat and a white silk turban in which was set a j**elled clasp supporting a spray of peaco*k feathers, Jerry stretched comfortably in his seat. He was disguised sufficiently to fool a casual observer and he hoped, too, that Karen von Krupp would not immediately recognize him for what he was. Jerry saw the bright ruin of the silver bridge that had once spanned the sea between England and France and which had collapsed in a tangle of flashing strands shortly after it had been built. Above it a metal ornithopter wheeled. Now he could see the sea ahead, the little blue waves glinting in the sun; and the road began to slope towards it. Jerry decelerated gradually, switching controls in the convertible until, when the road slid into the sea, the Phantom VI had become a speedboat. Gracefully, and without slackening speed, the Rolls cut across the water and before long the outlines of the ring of ships could be seen. Jerry touched another control. This was his first opportunity to try out the car's new feature, for which he had paid a hundred and fifty thousand marks. There was a soft, muttering sound and the Rolls-Royce began to sink beneath the ocean. It was capable of submerging only a matter of feet and for short distances, but it would probably see him through. His speed had decreased considerably now. He peered through the murky water, looking upwards, and soon saw the keels of the radio ships ahead. Their sonar was bound to detect him and they would begin dropping depth charges almost at once, but with luck they would detonate well below him and a vessel as small as his would be hard to pinpoint with any great accuracy. They had a fix. He saw the first charge plunge into the water on his right and fall towards the ocean bed. Then another fell close to it, and another on his left, another behind him. He watched them sink. One by one the shock waves rose, threatening to blow him to the surface under the Yankee's guns. The car rocked. Its forward course was deflected by a further series of shock waves. Jerry kept firm control of the wheel, letting the car move with the waves, waiting until they had died before pressing on, beneath the ships' keels and beyond them. More depth charges struck the water and floated down. One of the blue steel cannisters brushed the side of the car and he swung violently away as, below him, it exploded, catching the rear and almost turning the Rolls end over end. Jerry was thrown forward against the wheel. Another charge went off. The water was cloudy. He lost his bearings. The car spiralled to a dangerous depth; he managed to switch on the interior lights and regain control as he began to somersault. Checking the instruments, he judged he was out of range. He began to rise. Breaking through the waves, the limousine continued its stately way across the surface. Looking back, Jerry could see the ships behind him. A few guns blew black smoke from their muzzles, he heard the roar as they fired, saw the shells splash into the sea and burst on either side of him, spraying the canopy of the car with water and momentarily making him lose visibility. He smiled. Before they got his range, he would be over the horizon. Until the radio ships thought of putting down anti-sub nets, the car would be useful. Dashing like a dolphin through the warm water, the Rolls-Royce was soon in sight of Ostend and a similar concrete roadway. It hit the road smoothly under Cornelius's control, reconverted and was bowling along the road to Brussels without a moment's interruption. He bought a paper at a roadside kiosk, saw that Israel had annexed Bulgaria and that another hundred thousand U. S. military advisors had been flown into European H. Q., Bonn. And the sun was setting. The act of running the radio-ship blockade had tired him a trifle and he planned to spend the night at an organization-approved hotel in Brussels. Soon Brussels lay ahead, all baroque red and gold in the sunset, sweet city of nostalgia. Blood Sample At Mach 3 ordinary tires start to melt. Goodrich ad