To the Stars Trilogy Part 21

"Four. Reverse minimum speed for five seconds."

This was a trick he had learned in his cadet days when he was doing maintenance on the freight monorails under the city. Backing up took out all the play in the joints and couplings. Then, when the train started forward, the entire weight of the train would not have to be set into motion at the same time, but bit by bit as the play was taken up. In this way inertia actually aided the starting up, rather than r.e.t.a.r.ding it, as the weight of the cars already in motion was used to accelerate those still at rest.

With the heel of his hand Jan pushed the gear selec-tor into reverse, then set the speed goverrior at the first notch. All the brakes in the train were off except for the red light glowing on car twelve. When he stepped on the throttle with his left foot he felt the acceleration of the gear trains and a heavy shuddering through the metal of the floor. The coupling strain gauges dropped to zero, then reversed. Skid blinked on and off on twelve's panel, and he killed the power as the digital readout of the clock read five.

"Prepare to move out," he said and pulled the gear selector into low range. "Second file of trains hold position until the last of file one has pa.s.sed. Then fall into position behind. All controls on manual until you are notified different. First stop in nineteen hours. Final stop in Southtown. See you all there."

He took the wheel firmly in both hands and let his foot rest on the accelerator.

"Move out!"

Jan stepped down slowly and the engine revved up. At speed, the hydraulic clutch engaged and the torque was transmitted to the drive wheels. They turned and the engine moved ahead, car after car being set into motion behind it, until the whole giant train was rolling slowly forward. To his left the lead engine of the second file slid back and out of sight and ahead was only the empty expanse of the Road. The rear scanner mounted on top of the engine showed the train following smoothly after. The screen next to it, hooked to the scanner in the last car, showed engine two dropping behind. Strain gauges were all well into the green. Engine speed and road speed moved up to the top of the low range and he s.h.i.+fted to middle.

'All green," Otakar said. He had been monitoring all the other readouts from the co-driver's seat. Jan nodded ~nd turned the steering wheel ~o the left, then centered it again to hold the turn. Unlike the smaller ground cars, the powered steering was set by displacement of the wheel and held in position by centering. He then turned the steering wheel right to straighten the wheels again and centered it when they were at zero degrees forward. Then he came right to align the engine in the middle of the Road, centered over the control cable buried under the rock surface. The cars of the train behind each turned at precisely the same spot in the same way, like a monotrain going through switches.

Jan kept the speed at the top of the middle range until all the trains had begun to move, strung out in position one kilometer apart. The city site and even the farms had vanished behind before the last train was mov-ing. Only then did he accelerate into the highest, road speed range. The tires hummed below, the Road rushed toward him, the featureless sand desert moved by on each side. He held the wheel, driving still on manual, guiding the engine, the train, all of the trains down the Road, south, toward the opposite continent and Southtown, still 27,000 kilometers away.

One of the few outstanding feattires in this stretch of desert appeared as a speck on the horizon and slowly grew as they raced toward it. A black spire of rock pointing a dark finger at the sky. It reared up from a ridge ma.s.sive enough that the Road took a slow swing out and around it. As it pa.s.sed Jan signaled for the all-driver circuit.

"Needle Rock coming up on your left. Mark it. As you pa.s.s you can go on autopilot."

He set the controls himself as he talked, feeding in maximum and minimum speeds with his left hand, max and mm acceleration and braking as well. The gridded scope screen on the autopilot showed that he was centered over the central cable. He flipped the switch to on and leaned back, realizing that he was stiff from the strain, kneading his fingers together.

'A good start," Otakar said, still looking at the readouts. "It will project to a good trip."

"I only hope you're right. Take the con while I stretch."

Otakar nodded and slipped into the driver's seat when Jan stood up. His muscles creaked when he flexed his arms and he walked back to the rear compartment to look over the communication officer's shoulder.

"Hyzo," he said, "I want a..

"I have a red here," Otakar called out sharply.

Jan spun about and ran to lean over the co-driver's shoulder. A red light had appeared, flas.h.i.+ng among the rows of green, and a brief instant later there was a second, then a third.

"Brake drum heat on cars seven and eight. What the devil can that mean? All brakes are off." Jan muttered savagely to himself, things had been going too good, and leaned forward to press the readout b.u.t.ton. Numbers appeared on the screen. Up over twenty degrees on both those cars-and still rising."

He thought quickly. Should he stop and investigate? No, that would mean halting the entire line of trains, then getting them moving again. There were at least 300 kilo-meters more of desert road before they hit the foothills, and he wouldn't be needing brakes at all until that time.

"Kill the brake circuits in both those cars and see what happens," he said.

Otakar hit the switches while he was still issuing the order. Now the two cars no longer had operating brakes, but the safety circuits should have gone dead in the off position. They did. The temperature in the brake drums dropped slowly until, one after the other, the red lights went out.

"Keep the con," Jan said, "while I see if I can figure out just what the h.e.l.l is going on." He went to the rear and threw up the cover of the hatch down to the engine compartment. "Emo," he called through the opening. "Pa.s.s me up the diagrams and manuals on the car brake circuits. We have a problem."

Jan had done maintenance on the brake systems, as he had on all of the machinery, but had never needed to break down and repair one of the systems. Like all the Halvmo.rk machines, these had been designed to, hopeful-ly, last forever. Or as close to that as possible. With replacement supplies light-years away, rugged design was a necessity. All components were simply designed and heavily built.

Lubrication was automatic. They were de-signed not to fail under normal use and, in practice, rarely did.

"These what you want?" Emo asked, popping out of the hatch like an animal out of its den. He had diagrams and service manuals in his hand.

"Spread them out on the desk and we'll take a look," Jan said.

The diagrams were detailed and exact. There were two separate braking systems on the cars, each with its own fail-safe mode. Normal braking was electronically controlled by the computer. When the engine driver hit the brake, the brakes in all the cars were applied at the same time, to the same degree. The brakes themselves were hydraulic, the pressure coming from reservoirs that were supplied by pumps turned by the axles of the car. Strong springs held them in the normally off position. The electronic controls opened the pressure valves to apply the brakes when needed. This was alpha, the active braking system. Beta, the pa.s.sive one, was for emergencies only. These completely separate brakes were held in on position by their springs until the electric circuits were actuated. When this was done powerful magnets pulled them free. Any break in the electrical circuits, such as an accidental uncoupling of the cars, would apply these brakes for an emergency stop.

"Jan, two other trains calling in for advice," Hyzo said. "Sounds like the same trouble, temperature rise in the brakes."

"Tell them to do what we did. Cut the power to the alpha systems. I'll get back to them after I track down the malfunction:' He traced the diagram with his finger. "It must be the alpha brake system. The emergencies are either full on or full off-and we would certainly know if that happened."

"Electronics or hydraulics?" the engineer asked.

"I have a feeling that it can't be the electronics. The computer monitors all those circuits. If there were an uncalled for on-brake signal it would negate it, and if it couldn't be cut the computer would certainly report it. Let's trY the hydraulics first. We're getting pressure in our brake cylinders here. The only way we can get that is if this valve is opened slightly-"

"Or if s6mething is blocking it so it can't close completely."

"Emo, you're reading my mind. And what could be blocking it is just plain dirt. The filter in the line here is supposed to be cleaned out after every trip. A nasty, dirty job, crawling around under the cars. A job I remember a.s.signing to a certain mechanic named Decio some years agQ. A mechanic so bad that I eventually demoted him right back to the farm. When we stop we'll drop one of those filters and look at it."

Emo rubbed his jaw with a calloused hand. "If that's the trouble we are going to have to drain each malfunc-tioning brake system to get the valves out to clean."

"No need. These emergency valves, here and here, shut tight if the line is broken. We won't lose much fluid. There are spare control valves in stock. What we'll do is replace the first valves with new ones, have the old valves cleaned while we are working and exchange them right down the line. The grades aren't too bad this first day; we'll leave the brakes cut out on the few cars with trouble."

"Jan," the co-driver called out."'Mountains in sight, so the tunnel will be coming up soon. Thought you would want the con."

"Right. Leave the specs here, Emo, and get back to your engine. We'll be hitting the slope soon."

Jan slid into the driver's seat and saw the sharp peaks of the mountains ahead, stretching away, unbroken, on both sides. This was the range that kept the interior of the continent a desert, holding all the storms and rain on the far side. Once through the range they would find weather again. The Road ahead began to rise as they entered the foothills. Jan kept the autopilot on steer, but released the other controls.

As the slope grew steeper he let up on the accelerator and dropped into the central gear range. He could see the Road rising up ahead and there, above, the dark mouth of a tunnel. He switched on his microphone.

"All drivers. The tunnel is coming up in a few min-utes. Headlights on as soon as you spot it."

He switched on his own lights as he said this and the Road ahead sprang into harsh clarity.

The engineers who had built the Road, centuries earlier, had had almost unlimited energy at their disposal. They could raise islands from the ocean-or lower them beneath the surface, level mountains and melt solid rock. To them, the easiest way to pa.s.s the mountain range was by boring straight through it.

They were proud of this, too, for the only decoration or non-functioning bit of the entire Road was above the tunnel entrance. Jan saw it now, cut into the solid rock, as the dark mouth loomed closer. A hundred-meter-high s.h.i.+eld. The headlights caught it as the Road straightened for the Final approach. A s.h.i.+eld with a symbol on it that must be as ancient as mankind; a hand holding a short and solid hammer.

This was clear, growing larger, until it swept by above and they were inside the tunnel.

Rough stone wall flashed by gray and empty. Other than the occasional stream of water that crossed the Road, the tunnel was featureless. Jan watched his tachometer and speedometer and left the steering to the autopilot. Almost a half an hour pa.s.sed before a tiny light appeared ahead, grew to a disk, then a great burning doorway.

They had gone far enough south, and risen high enough, to have driven into the dawn.

The ma.s.sive engine tore out of the tunnel and into searing sunlight. The winds.h.i.+eld darkened automatically at the actinic onslaught, opaquing completely b~efore the sun. Beta Aurigae was blue-white and searingly hot, even at this northern lat.i.tude. Then it was obscured by clouds and a moment later dense rain crashed down on the train. Jan started the winds.h.i.+eld wipers and switched on his nose radar.

The Road was empty ahead. As quickly as it had begun, the storm was over and, as the Road wound down out of the mountains, he had his first view of the acid green jungle with the blue of the ocean beyond.

"Tha~s quite a sight," Jan said, hardly aware he had spoken aloud.

"It means trouble. I prefer the inland driving," the co-driver, Otakar, said.

"You're a machine without a soul, Otakar. Doesn't all that twilight monotony get you down at times?"

"No."

"Message from the forward Road crew," Hyzo called out. They've got a problem."

Otakar nodded gloomily. "I told you, trouble."

Six.

"What's happening," Jan said into the microphone.

"Lajos here. No big problems clearing the Road until now. Earthquake, at least a couple of years ago.

About a hundred meters of Road missing."

"Can't you fill it in?"

"Negative. We can't even see the bottom."

"What about going around it?"

"That's what we're tr'ing to do. But it means blasting a new road out of the clif. It's going to take at least a half day."

Jan cursed silently to himself; this was not going to be an easy trip at all if it continued this way. "Where are you?" he asked.

'A' bout a six hour drive from the tunnel."

"We'll join you. Keep the work going. Out." - Six hours. That would mean a shorter day than planned. But they had work to do on the brakes. And there were sure to be other problems as people settled down. Get the brakes fixed, get around the collapsed bit of Road, and press on in the morning. Everyone could use a night's sleep.

The Road had dropped down from the mountain slopes to the coastal plain, and as it fell the landscape had changed competely. Gone were the rocky slopes and the occasional bush with a precarious roothold in the scree. It was jungle now, high, thick jungle that cut out all sight of the ocean and only permitted a narrow view of the sky. There was plenty of evidence here that the jungle was trying to retake the Road.

Burned trees and vegetation were on both sides now, where they had been bulldozed aside by the tanks that had gone on ahead. There was animal life, too, dark forms glimpsed briefly in the shad-ows beside the Road. At one point a line of green flying creatures had floated slowly out of the jungle and across the Road. Two of them had smashed into the engine's winds.h.i.+eld, to slowly slide away leaving blue smears of blood behind. Jan washed away the traces with the touch of a b.u.t.ton. The engine was back on autopilot and there was litde to do except watch the tunnel of the Road open up ahead.

"Tired, Otakar?" he asked.

"A little. A night's sleep will help." - "But tomorrow will be a long day, and every day after that. Even if we spell each other at the wheel, it's going to be hard because we won't be able to re~t, notjust changing places between driver and co-driver." Jan had the begin-nings of an idea an& he worked at it. "What we need are more co-drivers.

For this engine and all the others. That way we could have an experienced driver at the wheel all the time and the one off duty can get his eyes shut."

"There aren't any other drivers."

"I know that, but we could train some as we go."

Otakar grunted and shook his head. "No way. Every man with a trace of technical ability is already on ajob. Or like your ex-mechanic Deci~who is back on the farm where he belongs. I don't want any farmers in the driving compartment."

"You're right-but only half right. What about train-ing some women as drivers?" Jan smiled as Otakar's jaw dropped.

"But... women don't drive. Women are just women."

"Only in this outpost of h.e.l.l, my boy. Even on Earth the exams are strictly compet.i.tive and workers rise as high as their ability allows, irrespective of their s.e.x. It makes sound economic sense. I see no reason why the same thing can t be done here. Find the girls with ability and train them for the job."

"The Hradil is not going to like this, or any of the Family Heads."

"Of course not-and what difference does it make? This is an emergency and we need emergency measures." Mention of The Hradil brought a sweeter name to mind from the same family. He smiled at the thought. "Have you ever noticed the embroidery that Alzbeta Mahrova does?"

"I have a piece, traded it from the family."

"Well that takes patience, skill, concentration-"

"All the traits of a successful driver!" Otakar was smiling now too. "This mad idea may work. It will sure make life a bit brighter during the drive."

I'm for that," Hyzo's voice called out from the speaker; he had been listening on the intercom to the conversation. "Wouldn't like to have me train a radio operator or two?"

"You might very well. Later. Right now we want to put together a list of women we know wh~ might have ability in this direction. But don't say a word outside of this compartment. I want to hit the Elders with this later, when they are tired and off-balance."

Night fell before they reached the break in the Road. They were climbing again and the rock wall rose up on their right, while to the left the Road ended only in blackness. Jan slowed the speed of the trains gradually as a blip appeared on the nose radar. When he caught a glimpse of metal ahead on the Road he cut the high beams of his lights and sent ot.i.t the stop signal.

"Begin braking now.

As his own train slowed he knew that, stretching far back into the night, the long column of trains wAs also reducing speed continually. As they slowed to a complete stop Otakar entered the time in his log, then began shutting down the engine for standby. Jan rose and stretched. He was tired-but knew the night's work was just beginning.

"Nine hundred and eighty-seven kilometers today," Otakar said, entering the figure in the log.

"That's fine." Jan ma.s.saged the tired muscles in his legs. "That leaves us only something like twenty-six thou-sand more to go.

"The longest journey begins with but a single turn of the wheel," Emo said, popping up from the engine room hatch.

"You can just keep your folk philosophy to yourself. Shut down the engine, pt.i.t all systems on standby and start pulling that brake valve from car seven. By the time you get it out I'll bring you a replacement.

And check the filter as well."

Jan cracked the exit door and a wave of hot, moist air washed over him. The engines and the cars were completely air conditioned, and he had forgotten how much further south they were. He could feel the sweat already dampening his skin as he climbed down the rungs. Very soon now they would have to use the coldsuits when they went outside the trains. He walked the hundred meters toward the ragged cliff that marked the end of the road. Bright lights illuminated the work area, and the roar and grind of the tanks echoed from the rocky wall, punctuated by the continuous explosions of the fusion glins. The Ilaming mouths of the tank-mounted units had already carved a niche into the sheer rock wall to span the gap of missing Road. Now they were working to deepen and widen it to permit the trains to pa.s.s. Jan didn't interfere, they were doing fine without him. And he had business with the Family Elders.

They met in the lead car of the Taekeng family, the largest available compartment. This family, the most con-servative and inbred, still kept many of its customs from distant Earth. There were silk hangings on the walls, scenes of water and birds and other strange animals, as well as sentences in an alphabet none of them could read. They were also the most group-social family, so they did not have their living cars broken up into the many small compartments the others preferred. The normal occu-pants of the room had been dispossessed for the moment, but they did not seem to mind. They were gathered in the Road outside the car, calling excitedly to each other about the work ahead, the stars overhead, the strange smells from the jungle below. Children ran about and were called back with great excitement when they ventured too near the precipice. A baby wailed in the darkness, then smacked contentedly as it was put to the breast. Jan picked his way through the people and entered the car.

Though he had called the meeting they had started without him. That was obvious. Hem Ritters.p.a.ch stood before the Family Heads, but he stopped talking as Jan entered. He gave one look of intense hatred before he turned his back, holding the cast on his arm before him like a s.h.i.+eld. Jan took one look at the circle of stony faces and knew perfectly well what Hem was trying to do. But it wouldn't work. He went slowly to an empty chair and dropped into it.

'As soon as Ritters.p.a.ch leaves, this meeting can be-gin," he said.

"No," Chun Taekeng broke in. "He has some grave charges that must be heard. He has said-"