Farmer in the Sky Part 18

"All over. My stomach is hard as a rock-a rock with a toothache."

"Bill," he said seriously, "have you ever had your appendix out?"

"No."

"Hmmm . . . maybe you should have had it out."

"Well, this is a fine time to tell me!"

"Take it easy."

"Take it easy, my foot!" I got up on one elbow, my head swimming. "Hank, listen to me. You've got to get back to camp and tell them. Have them send a tractor for me."

"Look, Bill," he said gently, "you know there isn't anything like a tractor at camp."

I tried to struggle with the problem but it was too much for me. My brain was fuzzy. "Well, have them bring a stretcher, at least," I said peevishly and lay down again.

Some time later I felt him fumbling around with my clothes. I tried to push him away, then I felt something very cold on me. I took a wild swing at him; it didn't connect.

"Steady," he said. "I have found some ice. Don't squirm around or you'll knock off the pack."

"I don't want it."

"You've got to have it. You keep that ice pack in place until we get out of here and you may live to be hanged, yet."

I was too feeble to resist. I lay back down and closed my eyes again. When I opened my eyes again, I was amazed to feel better. Instead of feeling ready to die, I merely felt awful. Hank wasn't around; I called to him. When he didn't answer at once I felt panicky.

Then he came trotting up, waving the torch. "I thought you had gone," I said.

"No. To tell the truth, I can't get out of here. I can't get back up to the ledge and I can't get over the crystals. I tried it." He held up one boot; it was in shreds and there was blood on it.

"Hurt yourself?"

"I'll live."

"I wonder," I answered. "n.o.body knows we are here-and you say we can't get out. Looks like we starve. Not that I give a hoot."

'Speaking of that," he said. "I saved you some of our lunch. I'm afraid I didn't leave much; you were asleep a long, long time."

"Don't mention food!" I retched and grabbed at my side.

"Sorry. But look-I didn't say we couldn't get out"

"But you did."

"No, I said I I couldn't get out." couldn't get out."

"What's the difference?"

"Uh, never mind. But I think we'll get out. It was what you said about getting a tractor--"

"Tractor? Are you out of your head?"

"Skip it," Bill answered. "There is a sort of tractor thing back there-or more like a scaffolding, maybe."

"Make up your mind."

"Call it a wagon. I think I can get it out, at least across the crystals. We could use it as a bridge."

"Well, roll it out."

"It doesn't roll. It, uh-well, it walks."

I tried to get up. "This I got to see."

"Just move over out of the way of the door."

I managed to get to my feet, with Hank helping me. "I'm coming along."

"Want the ice pack changed?"

"Later, maybe." Hank took me back and showed me. I don't know how to describe the walker wagonmaybe you've seen pictures since. If a centipede were a dinosaur and made of metal to boot, it would be a walker wagon. The body of it was a sort of trough and it was supported by thirty-eight legs, nineteen on a side.

"That," I said, "is the craziest contraption I ever laid eyes on. You'll never shove it out the door."

"Wait until you see," he advised. "And if you think this is crazy, you should see the other things in here."

"Such as?"

"Bill, you know what I think this place is? I think it's a hangar for a s.p.a.ce ship."

"Huh? Don't be silly; s.p.a.ce ships don't have hangars."

"This one has."

"You mean you saw saw a s.p.a.ce ship in here?" a s.p.a.ce ship in here?"

"Well, I don't know. It's not like any I ever saw before, but if it's not a s.p.a.ce ship, I don't know what it is good for."

I wanted to go see, but Hank objected. "Another time, Bill; we've got to get back to camp. We're late as it is."

I didn't put up any fight. My side was paining me again, from the walk. "Okay, what happens next?"

"Like this." He led me around to the end of the contraption; the trough came nearly down to the floor in back. Hank helped me get inside, told me to lie down, and went up to the other end. 'The guy that built this," he said, "must have been a hump-backed midget with four arms. Hang on."

"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked.

"I moved it about six feet before; then I lost my nerve. Abracadabra! Hold onto your hat!" He poked a finger deep into a hole.

The thing began to move, silently, gently, without any fuss. When we came out into the sunshine, Hank pulled his finger out of the hole. I sat up. The thing was two thirds out of the cave and the front end was beyond the crystals.

I sighed. "You made it, Hank, Let's get going. If I had some more ice on my side I think I could walk."

"Wait a second," he said. "I want to try something. There are holes here I haven't stuck a finger in yet."

"Leave well enough alone."

Instead of answering he tried another hole. The machine backed up suddenly. "Woopsl" he said, jerked his finger out, and jabbed it back where it had been before. He left it there until he regained what we had lost.

He tried other holes more cautiously. At last he found one which caused the machine to rear up its front end slightly and swing it to the left, like a caterpillar. "Now we are in business," he said happily. "I can steer it." We started down the canyon.

Hank was not entirely correct in thinking he could guide it. It was more like guiding a horse than a machine-or perhaps more like guiding one of those new groundmobiles with the semi-automatic steering. The walker wagon came to the little natural bridge of ice through which the crystals pa.s.sed and stopped of itself. Hank tried to get it to go through the opening, which was large enough; it would have none of it. The front end cast around like a dog sniffing, then eased gradually up hill and around the ice.

It stayed level; apparently it could adjust its legs, like the fabulous hillside snee.

When Hank came to the ice flow we had crossed on the way up to the notch, he stopped it and gave me a fresh ice pack. Apparently it did not object to ice in itself, but simply refused to go through holes, for when we started up again, it crossed the little glacier, slowly and cautiously, but steadily.

We headed on toward camp. "This," Hank announced happily, "is the greatest cross-country, rough-terrain vehicle ever built. I wish I knew what makes it go. If I had the patent on this thing, I'd be rich."

"It's yours; you found it."

"It doesn't really belong to me."

"Hank," I answered, "you don't really think the owner is going to come back looking for it, do you?"

He got a very odd look. "No, I don't, Bill. Say, Bill, uh, how long ago do you think this thing was put in there?"

"I wouldn't even want to guess."

There was only one tent at the camp site. As we came up to it, somebody came out and waited for us. It was Sergei.

"Where have you guys been?" he asked. "And where in Kingdom Come did you steal that? that?

"And what is it?" he added.

We did our best to bring him up to date, and presently he did the same for us. They had searched for us as long as they could, then Paul had been forced to move back to camp number one to keep the date with the Jitterbug. Jitterbug. He had left Sergei behind to fetch us when we showed up. "He left a note for you," Sergei added, digging it out He had left Sergei behind to fetch us when we showed up. "He left a note for you," Sergei added, digging it out It read: "Dear Pen Pals, "I am sorry to go off and leave you crazy galoots but you know the schedule as well as I do. I would stay behind myself to herd you home, but your pal Sergei insists that it is his privilege. Every time I try to reason with him he crawls further back into his hole, bares his teeth, and growls.

"As soon as you get this, get your chubby little legs to moving in the direction of camp number one. Run, do not walk. We'll hold the Jitterbug, but you know how dear old Aunt Hattie feels about keeping her schedule. She isn't going to like it if you are late.

"When I see you, I intend to beat your ears down around your shoulders.

"Good luck, "P. du M.

"P.S. to Doctor Slop: I took care of your accordion."

When we had finished reading it Sergei said, "I want to hear more about what you found-about eight times more. But not now; we've got to tear over to camp number one. Hank, you think Bill can't walk it?"

I answered for myself, an emphatic "no." The excitement was wearing off and I was feeling worse again.

"Hmm-Hank, do you think that mobile junk yard will carry us over there?"

"I think it will carry us any place." Hank patted it.

"How fast? The Jitterbug Jitterbug has already grounded." has already grounded."

"Are you sure?" asked Hank.

"I saw its trail in the sky at least three hours ago."

"Let's get going!"

I don't remember much about the trip. They stopped once in the pa.s.s, and packed me with ice again. The next thing I knew I was awakened by hearing Sergei shout, "There's the Jitterbug! Jitterbug! I can see it." I can see it."

"Jitterbug, here we come," answered Hank. I sat up and looked, too. here we come," answered Hank. I sat up and looked, too.

We were coming down the slope, not five miles from it, when flame burst from its tail and it climbed for the sky.

Hank groaned. I lay back down and closed my eyes.

I woke up again when the contraption stopped. Paul was there, hands on his hips, staring at us. "About time you birds got home," he announced. "But where did you find that?" that?"

"Paul," Hank said urgently, "Bill is very sick."

"Oh, oh!" Paul swung up and into the walker and made no more questions then. A moment later he had my belly bared and was shoving a thumb into that spot between the belly b.u.t.ton and the hip bone. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

I was too weak to slug him. He gave me a pill.

I took no further part in events for a while, but what had happened was this: Captain Hattie had waited, at Paul's urgent insistence, for a couple of hours, and then had announced that she had to blast. She had a schedule to keep with the Covered Covered Wagon and she had no intention, she said, of keeping eight thousand people waiting for the benefit of two. Hank and I could play Indian if we liked; we couldn't play hob with her schedule. Wagon and she had no intention, she said, of keeping eight thousand people waiting for the benefit of two. Hank and I could play Indian if we liked; we couldn't play hob with her schedule.

There was nothing Paul could do, so he sent the rest back and waited for us.

But I didn't hear this at the time. I was vaguely aware that we were in the walker wagon, travelling, and I woke up twice when I was repacked with ice, but the whole episode is foggy. They travelled east, with Hank driving and Paul navigating-by the seat of his pants. Some long dreamy time later they reached a pioneer camp surveying a site over a hundred miles away-and from there Paul radioed for help.

Whereupon the Jitterbug Jitterbug came and got us. I remember the landing back at Leda-that is, I remember somebody saying, "Hurry, there! We've got a boy with a burst appendix." came and got us. I remember the landing back at Leda-that is, I remember somebody saying, "Hurry, there! We've got a boy with a burst appendix."

20. Home

There was considerable excitement over what we had found-and there still is-but I didn't see any of it. I was busy playing games with the Pearly Gates. I guess I have Dr. Archibald to thank for still being here. And Hank. And Sergei. And Paul. And Captain Hattie. And some nameless party, who lived somewhere, a long time ago, whose shape and race I still don't know, but who designed the perfect machine for traveling overland through rough country.

I thanked everybody but him. They all came to see me in the hospital, even Captain Hattie, who growled at me, then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek as she left. I was so surprised I almost bit her.

The Schultzes came, of course, and Mama cried over me and Papa gave me an apple and Gretchen could hardly talk, which isn't like her. And Molly brought the twins down to see me and vice versa.

The Leda daily Planet Planet interviewed me. They wanted to know whether or not we thought the things we found were made by men? interviewed me. They wanted to know whether or not we thought the things we found were made by men?