Undying World Part 10

"The ladder ends in a sub-1 bas.e.m.e.nt of the Government Building," said Sybelline.

That settled it. By now the circular building would be alive with Jantor's men.

He began to question Wilf about Jantor. All that Wilf could tell him was that Jantor was moving his troops up into the city. He was taking over and defying the orbfolk. Women and children remained in the sewers until the issue was settled one way or the other.

Wilf gave Blade a sly look and said, "I have something else to tell you, but it is for your ears only."

Blade nodded at Sybelline. "Go stand with Sart. Both of you out of hearing."

She crossed her arms over her firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s and scowled. "I will not. You plan to betray me with my own son."

Blade jerked a thumb at the door. "Go, I say. If there is betrayal it will not be on my part."

She left them reluctantly. Blade bent to hear Wilf's whisper. "It is said that Jantor has had second thoughts. He knows now that it was Sart who murdered Alixe, not you. A guard has remembered hearing screams while you were absent. Jantor wishes to parley and again be friends, if you will turn over Sart to him for punishment."

Blade stroked his beard. "That poor fool. I could not---"

"And Sybelline," said Wilf. "Jantor wishes to destroy her also."

Blade stared down at him. "She is your mother."

Wilf shrugged. "What of that? Anyway I propose nothing. I merely say what I have heard. And there is more."

Blade waited, his face grim. Wilf hurried on. "I also heard that more than a hundred of the Gnomen females have missed their b.l.o.o.d.y time. All have lain with you."

And Wilf added, slyly, "This may have some bearing on matters, I think. It is why Jantor is willing to be reasonable."

Blade felt no thrill of fatherhood. A hundred pregnant women spoke well of his performance as a man; it did nothing for his ego, the impact diminished by the numbers involved. And yet the boy was right Jantor was thinking now that Blade was proven a baby-maker; it would be folly to kill him. Jantor could not rebuild the Gnomen race alone. There was only Blade.

On the whole Blade was pleased. He now had a bargaining point where he had lacked one before. But it did nothing to solve his immediate problems.

He called Sart and Sybelline into the bunker and explained to them and to Wilf what must be done.

CHAPTER 13.

There was plenty of food and canned liquids in the bunker. Blade took a supply with him, also two fresh torches. It was a calculated risk, leaving the three of them behind, but there was little else he could do. Sart was a cipher and he was setting Wilf and Sybelline to watch each other. Both wanted power and the good life, and both still needed him to help them to those things.

He found the ramp and began the climb. Mole rats lurked after him but did not attack. Now and again he saw the glistening bones of a mole rat that had been eaten by its brethren. The heat was worse than the mole rats; it left him weak, dehydrated and giddy. He stopped often to rest.

The ramp ended in a long corridor of darkness and when he saw the first iron door he knew where he was-at the five-mile level. One of the doors was ajar and Blade pushed it with his foot. On the floor a skeleton had crumbled to dust. Blade swept his torch around the tiny chamber and saw the tubes through which food and drink were dropped to keep the prisoner alive, in total darkness, so long as he could stand it. Blade stood for a moment in deep thought. He had never underestimated Jantor, and now he began to grasp the iron will of the Gnomen chief. To survive in one of these pits, to be at the edge of blindness, and yet to come back, to keep sanity, that was an awesome achievement.

He rested and consulted the map. Wilf had marked the way with a red stylus. It was a circuitous route, slow and difficult, leading through a maze of long disused tunnels and ending far from the inhabited sewers. This did not please Blade. It would take him hours to make the ascent and even when he reached the city level he would be far from the center of action. He was tempted to ignore the map and seek a shortcut but decided against it. It would be easy to get lost down here. He could wander forever, or until he died or was s.n.a.t.c.hed back by the computer. And his mission would be unfulfilled.

The mission-the secret of how rock dust was converted into power and how that power was transmitted through s.p.a.ce. At the moment it looked hopeless; he was no nearer to the secret than he had been on first awakening in this Dimension X. Sybelline could not help him, nor Wilf. Certainly not Jantor. That left the Morphi elders, the ruling clique, or possibly the Selenes. Blade wiped at his sweat and combed out his beard with filthy fingers. It might come to that. Onta, the Selene Chief of Brain Secrets, might know the answer. But how in the h.e.l.l was he- The crystal in his brain, as though on cue, began to feed him thoughts. Lord Leighton was sending brain waves.

Time short here in HD as computer return phase upcoming-if miss this phase will mean long wait to recover you-urgent you discover how rock dust converted to power-crystal function perfect, am following you, noting all information as fed.

Blade, sweating in the stygian depths, emitted a few choice HD words and began to climb again.

As he made his way through pa.s.sage after pa.s.sage, tunnel after tunnel, the heat began to decrease. He started to feel better. But now he faced the added burden of a time limit. There had been no head pains yet, so his return was not imminent, but he did not want to miss the return phase and stay on in this DX. He still had no real concept of Morphi or Gnomen time, and in any case did not want to risk it.

Blade came to a ladder set into a wall-it was marked on Wilf's map-and climbed a hundred feet into another pa.s.sage. While on the ladder he made a confession to himself-he was becoming something of a coward after so many trips into DX. He was not as bold as he had been earlier, or perhaps not so foolish. He did not really know which it was.

He toiled on. The air grew better as the heat decreased. He came to a short tunnel that led into a sewer-very nearly walking into danger like a fool. As he was about to leave the cover of the tunnel, he heard Gnomen voices and ducked back just in time. He stomped out his torches, leaving him for the moment in total darkness.

Blade ran softly back to the mouth of the tunnel and saw torches coming toward him. He retreated a few steps and threw himself on his belly, watching as a procession of Gnomen women, with now and then a guard, filed past the slot-like opening of the tunnel. The women were laughing and talking among themselves. The guards, carrying spear bars, were sullen and kept urging them along. As the last of the women vanished from view, Blade moved closer to the tunnel entrance.

A single Gnomen guard was bringing up the rear. For some reason, he had fallen behind and was making no effort to catch up. He carried a torch and was trailing his spear bar along behind him in a casual manner, mumbling to himself as he pa.s.sed the tunnel where Blade lurked.

It was over in seconds. Blade reached with the hook end of his bar, caught the man's denim breeches, pulled him into the tunnel mouth, tripped him and put the sharp end of the bar to his throat. He swept up the fallen torch and thrust it close to the astounded man's face.

"No sound," said Blake, "or I'll have your throat out. You know who I am?"

The guard nodded. He was typically Gnomen, bald and hairy, squat and muscular. He did not show fear nor was he inclined to make a fight of it. He stared up at Blade with dull brown eyes and nodded. "I know. You are the man Blade."

"Right," said Blade. "Do you want to die?"

The guard made the sign of the fylfot on his bald head. And answered calmly enough. "Not if it can be avoided."

Blade held the torch so it revealed his face. He smiled. "It can-if you answer me truthfully and cause no trouble. Who are those women? Why are they guarded and where do they go?"

To his surprise the Gnoman chuckled. "You of all people have a right to know that, man Blade. They are the women who have missed their b.l.o.o.d.y time. Or so Jantor says. They are with child, or so Jantor believes, and he sends them far down for protection and safety. So whatever happens they will have their babies and the Gnomen race will go on."

"I believe that," said Blade. "But why? What is it that threatens them and the children they may have?"

"There is much activity on the Moon," said the guard. "Jantor fears that they will invade or drop a destroy bomb. He is not sure of this, but he takes precautions. It is hard to tell about the orbfolk-they may do nothing."

"That," said Blade aloud, but to himself, "is all I need now, an invasion by the Selenes."

The Gnoman was silent. Blade punched the spear bar a bit into his throat. "Where is Jantor now?"

"Up in the city of the Morphi. All the best warriors are. I, curse it, was not chosen. Instead I have to guard women. I am missing everything, the killing and the rape. All my life I have dreamed of having a beautiful Morphi woman even when it meant the pits to even think so. Now when there are thousands of sleepers ready for the taking I will miss it. I swear by every d.a.m.ned fylfot that it is unfair."

Blade knew a momentary sickness in his guts. But this was Dimension X. He had seen worse. He made his voice casual. "Jantor gives his consent to this?"

The Gnoman shook his head. "No. Not to the rape. But what of that? Jantor cannot be everywhere. As for the killing of the Morphi males, he has ordered it in person-not all, of course. We Gnomen will need slaves when we take over."

Jantor would have his hands full, Blade thought. He remembered thousands upon thousands of Morphi women up there in the city, all lovely and helpless sleepers. No wonder Jantor had forbidden rape. How could you keep an army together and under discipline in such circ.u.mstances?

He pressed the spear bar deeper into the man's flesh. For the first time the Gnoman showed fear. "You are going to slay me?"

"Maybe not. Do you know of the girl Norn?"

"I know of her. If she is anything to you I feel sorry for you."

"Why? Where is she?" Blade scowled and poked again with the spear bar.

The Gnoman hesitated and his eyes turned s.h.i.+fty. "I had forgotten. It was whispered that she was something to you. If I tell you, will you spare me?"

Blade kicked him in the face. "You are in no position to make bargains. Tell me before the count of three." He leaned on the bar.

The Gnoman guard, gasping for breath, spat out the words. "She is in the city, in the Hall of Entertainment, suspended over the mole rat pit. I would like to see that too, but I never will. It is said that the Morphi kept a hundred mole rats in that pit at one time. Starved them, studied them, watched them eat each other."

Blade eased the pressure on the bar. "Jantor thinks I will come to save Norn. Is that it?"

"How would I know that, man Blade? I am only a sewer guard who does what he is told."

Blade reasoned that for the moment Norn was safe enough. Uncomfortable, certainly terrified, but safe. Jantor was using her for bait, not for the mole rats. He would not destroy her until he was certain the ruse had failed.

He prodded the Gnoman. "How would you like to go up to the city and get your share of the sleeper women? Even join in the killing?"

The man grinned. "I would like it, man Blade. But how? My subchief gave me orders. If he finds me disobedient, he will kill me."

"That is your concern," said Blade. "You should be able to evade him. And if you do not take this chance, I will kill you now. So what do you say?"

"I will do it, man Blade. But what must I do?"

Blade took the man's bar and hurled it far down the tunnel. "Get up now. How are you called?"

"I am Dork."

"Then listen well, Dork. You will lead me to the city level by the shortest way, avoiding the main sewers. You will walk two paces before me. No more, no less. If you turn, or drop your torch, or shout, or in any manner betray me I will put my bar through you from behind. You grasp all this?"

Dork nodded. "And if I serve you well?"

Blade prodded him back to where he had stomped out the torches. "Pick up one torch and light it from this one. If you serve me well, I will give you freedom when we are up in the city. What you do then is your own concern. You agree?"

Dork nodded. He lit the torch. "I will serve you, and hope my subchief does not catch me. It will be worth the risk for a chance at a Morphi woman."

Blade prodded him again. "Then we go. You do know a short way up to the city?"

"Of course I know, man Blade. I have lived in the sewers all my life. And I will not betray you. For one, I do not want a spear bar through me and for two, I have been badly cheated by Jantor and my chiefs. I would kill you if I could, man Blade, but since I do not think I will get that chance I will serve you and also serve myself. I will show all that Dork is not to be cheated of his share of killing and loot. Mind it now-we turn off just ahead."

As Blade followed Dork along an upward-slanting, narrow pa.s.sage, dank and slippery underfoot, he debated whether to kill Dork when the guard had served his purpose. He decided not. One more rape or killing would not make all that difference in the vast carnage he knew he would find in the city.

Dork led him into a subbas.e.m.e.nt, up ladders and stairs into a full bas.e.m.e.nt where maintenance sleepers lay about, so far unharmed by Jantor's hordes. They were one floor below city level now and Blade kept his bar point close to Dork's back. If the Gnoman had treachery in mind, it would come soon.

There was an open freight elevator stalled halfway between floors. Blade bade Dork haul boxes and they climbed by means of them atop the elevator. From that vantage, they could just peer out at ground floor level. They were in an apartment house and the front doors were open. Blade made Dork lie flat on his belly while he, Blade, popped his head up for a quick look. The sound of the dying city was now loud, now fading, as the Gnomen shattered the silence with their cries of fury and triumph, an incessant babble of savagery.

A score of sleeper bodies were piled in the lobby. Blade, in one fast glance, noted no females among them. They were all the beautiful male sleepers and they had all been mutilated-either the power stud behind their ears had been gouged out or the heads had been cut off. Jantor knew what he was about. Even were the power to come on, these poor corpses could not be reactivated.

The bodies were naked. The Gnomen would be casting away their denim breeches and donning Morphi garb. Blade ducked down and told Dork what he had seen. Dork nodded and said, "What else? The time of the Gnomen has come at last. I have kept my word to you, man Blade. Can I go now and see to my share of Morphi women and loot? You promised."

"In a little time," Blade promised. "I need you still. Come. We must go higher."

Dork nodded. "Only hurry or I will lose out."

Blade peered into the lobby again. A band of Gnomen rushed past the open doors, screaming in fierce glee. Several had the heads of Morphi males impaled on their spear bars. Many carried cans of intoxicant and drank as they ran. One Gnoman came staggering along with a case of the stuff.

Blade nodded in satisfaction. Drunken Gnomen would be easier to elude and trick. Dork licked his lips and said, "They will drink it all, the fylfot desecrating b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, before I can join them."

"Then hurry," ordered Blade. He poked Dork with his bar. "Up the stairs."

The stairs and some of the hallways were littered with Morphi sleepers. The males butchered behind the ears, the power stud gone, and the females stripped and well used.

Dork licked his thick lips again. "They have been here right enough, many of them. Now I must take their leavings." He made a move toward one of the females.

Blade cuffed him hard. "Not before me. Try again and I will forget my promise and kill you. Up-to the top floor."

There was a vacant apartment on the sixth floor. There were no sleepers-either male or female-though there were several in the corridor. Blade made Dork stand at a window and explain the city layout to him. As the man talked, Blade drew a crude map on the reverse side of the plastic parchment Wilf had given him.

Dork, in a frenzy to be gone, spoke rapidly and pointed out place after place, answered questions, chafing and grumbling as Blade insisted on a complete orientation. He pointed out the circular Government Building far across the city. "Jantor is certain to make his headquarters there," he said. "He is cunning. He will de-stud the Morphi leaders before he does anything else."

Blade agreed. In any case he must return to the Government Building sooner or later. The chute was there, and the chute was his only means of communication with Wilf and Sybelline waiting down in the power complex.

He prodded Dork. "Where is the Hall of Entertainment?"

The man pointed. "Yonder, to the left. It is not far. But if you think to save your Norn from the mole rats, let me warn you-for you kept your word and did not kill me-that she will be heavily guarded."

Blade studied the structure. It covered several blocks, and was but four stories tall. It was a square building. From each corner colored pennants appeared to stand out in a breeze, but this was deceiving. They were of reinforced plastic. There was no wind in the plastic city.

He kept Dork yet a moment. "Where would the mole-rat pit be?"

"That I cannot say. I have never been there, though I know what it is. And I do not like mole rats enough to go looking for them. Can I go now? I have told you all I know."

Blade gave him leave. "Go. Keep your mouth shut about me. If I am taken and see Jantor through any doing of yours, I will tell him how you deserted your trust."

Dork made the sign of the fylfot on his s.h.i.+ny head. "Never fear. I have never seen you, man Blade."

Blade watched as the Gnoman stalked into the kitchen. He came out carrying two cans of intoxicant and drinking from a third. He grinned at Blade. "Good. The first time in all my miserable life that I have tasted it. Ho-hah-I think I am going to like living the Morphi life."

Blade gave him a curt farewell. "Go carefully or you will not enjoy it long. And keep my warning in mind, Dork."

"I will, man Blade. Farewell."

Blade, as near the window as he dared, watched Dork leave the building. He was already staggering. Blade shook his head. The Gnomen were not used to the canned intoxicant. Probably more than half of Jantor's troops were drunk by now, drunk and useless.

The street below was quiet. From afar, toward the Government Building, came a hubbub of drunken, looting Gnomen. This quarter of the infinite city, Blade thought, had been pretty well sacked and it was not likely that they would return in force. The city stretched to the horizon and beyond, forever as far as Blade knew, and there would be always new loot and fresh Morphi females to rape. Another hazard that Jantor faced-before long his forces were going to be spread thin, would lose contact with him and each other as they ranged farther and farther afield.

For a few moments Blade lingered at the window. He found an angle from which he could observe the Moon. Even with his naked eye, he could discern great activity among the Selenes and he wondered what it meant. More of the great searchlights were trained on the city; there was a great bustle and movement of vehicles; a huge fleet of what appeared to be small and oddly formed aircraft were hovering over landing ports. Blade watched all this and pondered what Sybelline had confessed to him-the Selenes knew about him and were anxious to keep him alive so their scientists could study him. Blade smiled faintly. He, too, was anxious to stay alive. Just how this was to be accomplished he could not at the moment say. He had a plan of sorts, but implementing it was another matter. As he stared out at the drab b.u.t.termilk sky, at the eternal twilight, at the Selene Moon and the monstrous searchlights, he knew it would take all his guile, strength and luck to get out of this one.

Norn? He really did not want to think about the girl, but his conscience nagged. Ridiculous, for one could not afford a conscience in Dimension X. But there it was. She was of no importance to him. She loved, not he. Good sense bade him make for the Government Building and a parley with Jantor. It might even be the easiest and best way of a.s.suring Norn's life.