Undying World Part 9

Sart grumbled but remained on guard, peering fearfully into the dark.

Blade waved his torch at Sybelline. "After you."

The interior of the bunker was cramped. With the aid of both torches they could see well enough. The place was spa.r.s.ely furnished. Consoles covered the walls. There were dials and gauges and switches and toggles. Blade was reminded of Lord Leighton's master computer chamber. He inspected in silence for a moment, concentrating, activating the crystal in his brain so that everything he recorded would be pa.s.sed on to Home Dimension without conscious effort on his part. Lord L would be listening in, and the old boffin would be in seventh heaven.

There were four sleepers. One sat at a console, his hand still raised to touch a toggle. One was stretched on a plastic cot, asleep, when a deeper sleep came. A third stood before a drawing board, a long stylus-like pen poised over blueprints.

Sybelline pointed to the fourth sleeper. "It was he... the last to have me. The others were watching and enjoying it even as they worked."

Blade grunted. "Voyeurs."

"I do not understand that word."

"Of no matter. Show me exactly."

She stepped to a table near a console. On it lay the fourth sleeper, face down, arms dangling, plastic clothing still in disarray. Like all the sleepers he was handsome, young looking, too pretty and healthy looking to be believed, even in this quasi-death.

s.e.x seemed to be the one constant in all the X Dimensions he had visited. No-there were other and regrettable constants-greed, hate, fear, l.u.s.t for power.

And love. Not often, but he had found it from time to time.

Blade said, "Show me."

Sybelline's face had a swollen look. Her lips were fuller, pouting, and her eyes narrowed. She began to stroke her b.r.e.a.s.t.s lightly. She was remembering, harking back, and the visit to the scene of such pleasure and accomplishment was arousing her beyond bearing. She pointed at the sleeper on the table. "Move him. Roll him off. Then I will show you exactly. You can join me. Now. Hurry, I have longed for you, Blade, ever since I first set eyes on you."

Blade was cautious. He had no desire for her or for any woman at this time, but he did not want to offend her. He needed her.

"Later," he promised. "For now just show me."

She frowned at him but nodded. She went to the table. She pointed to the sleeper. "He lay just so, atop me. He was paying no attention other than to his own pleasure, and I reached back and pushed the b.u.t.ton-there. You see how simple it was?"

Blade saw. It was a single small black b.u.t.ton set in a red plaque. He measured the distance with his eye and saw that it could be done. The position was right and her slim arms long enough. He nodded.

"I believe you." He examined the black b.u.t.ton closely. "This shuts off the power. What turns it on?"

Sybelline pointed to a switch on a nearby console. "That was explained to me. I coaxed it from them. I had to know, you see, for part of my bargain with the Selenes was that when the time came I would be the one to turn on the power."

Blade pondered a moment, nearly gave the command to activate the power, then decided against it. He pointed to a tunnel-like opening in one wall of the bunker. "What is that?"

"What it seems. A pa.s.sage to the power cube. I was also shown that."

"Show me now."

With her torch high she stepped into the narrow tunnel. Blade followed, concentrating fiercely so the thoughts could be transmitted via the brain crystal. He could send only facts and his own thoughts relevant to them; Lord L must work out the rest for himself if he could. It amused Blade to think that if the crystal was working, the scientific world back in HD would be buzzing in a matter of minutes, at least that part of it connected with Project DX.

The tunnel ended in a vaulted chamber no larger than an ordinary bathroom in HD. There was a pit in the center and the plastic floor sloped to it. From the pit, a circle as large as a common auto tire, there protruded a single metal rod. From the visible end was a mobile-like structure somewhat reminiscent of the filament in a light bulb.

Stacked around the walls of the chamber were plastic bags. Blade ripped one with the hook end of his bar and a fine powder seeped out. He caught some in his palm and tested it with his fingertips. It was white, fine as talc.u.m, and had no odor. He looked at Sybelline.

"Ditramonium," she said. "Rock powder. How it works or why, I do not know. No one knows but the Select Five of the High Morphi Council."

Blade nodded upward. "Those who meet in the circular building up there?"

"Yes."

Blade started back through the tunnel to the main bunker. "Come," he told her, "and obey me exactly."

When they were in the bunker he went to the table and moved the sleeper who had been making love to Sybelline when she pressed the OFF b.u.t.ton. He motioned to her.

"Lie on the table exactly as you were. Say nothing, do nothing. Observe and listen."

Sybelline balked. "I do not like this, Blade. Not at all. I will lie on the table gladly, but only if you are atop me. What use is a sleeper-"

He gave her a grim stare. "Do as you are bid. I am going to turn on the power."

Her jaw dropped and her green eyes widened. For the first time she seemed more Gnomen than Morphi. She made the sign of the fylfot over her left breast. "Have you gone mad, Blade?"

"I do not think so," he said calmly, "but I am very curious. I will turn on the power for the count of ten. On that count of ten you will turn it off again. Be sure you can reach the b.u.t.ton. Now get ready."

Sybelline most unwillingly clambered on the table. She lay with her gown up and Blade replaced the sleeper between her outflung thighs. The sleeper's head nestled on her shoulder. Blade went to the entrance and looked back. "I will remain here. I want to observe both inside and out. I will bid Sart do likewise. All you have to do is listen to my count and press the b.u.t.ton at ten. Are you ready?"

She glared at him. "This is a fool's trick. If something goes wrong we lose everything."

"I will take that risk," Blade told her. He gave the startled slave instructions and then went back into the bunker. He went to the ON switch and reached for it. "Be ready," he said. "Do exactly as I ordered."

He pressed the switch and ran for the door.

There was no sound, no humming, no machine noises, just the light. Sourceless light that was in the air itself, soft, limpid, the glow of a billion candles. Blade began to count aloud.

"One-two-"

He stood squarely in the doorway, his glance swiveling in and out with each count.

The four sleepers did not see him at first. They did not know they had been asleep. Each, in smooth continuity, went about completing the act in which he had been caught.

The plastic-turfed complex stretched for miles. The dome top glittered nearly out of sight. Dozens of mole rats scampered in panic for dark holes gnawed in the base of the dome. Millions of lights blinked on the endless banks of computers lining the complex. Faraway figures moved, hauling something on a cart. Nearer to Blade a man crawled toward them on his hands and knees. He looked Gnomen and he was bleeding.

The sleeper on the cot stirred and tossed restlessly. The sleeper at the drawing board made a line with his stylus and looked at the sleeper atop Sybelline. "Good, eh? For an old one."

The sleeper at the console adjusted the toggle and laughed. "We had better keep her down here with us. If she talks we have had it. We can turn her over to the new crew and-"

"Three-four-five-"

The sleeper atop Sybelline groaned and rolled off her. "Yes, you are right. We will keep her for our private needs." He smiled down at Sybelline. "What of that, woman? You agree? We will treat you well."

Sart had dropped his bar and fallen to his knees, his eyes rolling in terror. Blade pointed to the man crawling toward them, the bleeding man. He whispered. "Get him. Help him.

"Six-seven-"

The sleeper on the table with Sybelline slapped at her arm in sudden alarm. "Get away from that b.u.t.ton, you wh.o.r.e."

The sleeper at the console whirled toward Blade, staring in astonishment. "Who counts? Who are you?"

"Eight-"

The sleeper at the drawing board leaped toward a square box on a wall. "Something is wrong here-the all-points alarm. I-'

"Nine-"

Sybelline lost her head. She pulled away from the Morphi and tried frantically to reach the OFF b.u.t.ton. The Morphi slapped her hard and pushed her off the table away from the b.u.t.ton. The man on the cot woke and stared, rubbing his eyes. "What in the name of all the fylfots goes on?"

Sart did not obey Blade. He crept into the doorway to be near his master. The former sleepers saw him and yelled in unison. "Gnomen. Attack-attack-"

"Ten!"

Sybelline screamed and lunged for the OFF b.u.t.ton. She was knocked down. Blade went plunging into the knot of struggling Morphi. One held Sybelline and three leaped at him. He laid about him with the bar, drove them to retreat and reached with the hooked end of his bar to press the b.u.t.ton. They were coming at him again. The power failed. Darkness.

Blade took his torch from a sconce and waved it about. The four Morphi men, sleepers once more, lay huddled on the floor of the bunker.

Sybelline recovered her torch and did not conceal her anger. "I told you, Blade. They nearly overcame us. You are too bold. We will take no more chances like that."

He could have told her that only boldness plus guile had kept him alive through a procession of DXs, but all he said was, "Be quiet."

He was content. He knew what he had to know. When he turned on the power again the Morphi would resume the continuity of their lives with no sense of lost time. The sleepers would never know they had slept. This, he hoped, would give him the element of surprise, an opening wedge, a way to baffle and puzzle them until he could sway them to his thinking. But that must wait.

Blade led the way out of the bunker and pointed. "I saw a Gnoman crawling this way. He was hurt. Hold your torches high."

Sybelline was incredulous. "A common Gnoman down here? I do not believe it. They would not dare it. Not one alone."

"I know what I saw." Blade waved his torch and shouted. "You out there! Give sign of yourself. We will help you."

A faint cry came from the darkness. "Sybelline! I am hurt. Aid me."

Blade watched her and did not think she was acting. She gasped in amazement. "Wilf! My son. I do not understand this-"

Sart stopped shaking long enough to say, "It could be a trick of Jantor's, master."

"A strange trick," said Blade, "to send one wounded man against me. Come on." He strode into the darkness.

Wilf lay in a pool of blood. Sybelline held a torch while Blade examined him. He was badly bitten, mostly on the legs, and some of the wounds were deep. At the moment he was unconscious, but Blade thought he would survive. He bade Sart pick up the wounded man and carry him back to the bunker.

Sart grumbled and complained of his own wound but he obeyed. Blade and Sybelline followed him. The woman was silent.

"I accept your surprise," said Blade at last. "But I must know of this. You say he is your son?"

She shrugged. "One of them. My favorite. I have many sons and daughters among the Gnomen. I do not know what has become of them."

Blade guessed at what she meant by favorite. He knew the Gnomen att.i.tude toward incest. They did not recognize it nor did he mention it now.

He said, "I find it most strange that he would suddenly appear in this place."

Sybelline shrugged again. "So do I. I have no understanding of this, nor of Wilf, for that matter. He is only a quarter Morphi, you know, and not of great intelligence. He has always been secretive and keeps his thoughts to himself."

"We will see about his intelligence. One thing I know-the Morphi, even you who are half Morphi, all make the same mistake. You consistently underestimate the intelligence of some of the Gnomen-perhaps all of them. It is my thought that the native intelligence is there, but has never been allowed to develop."

He saw her look and forgot it. She was incapable of understanding.

Wilf was placed on the table in the bunker. Blade found a kit and tended the wounds. He used ointments and powders and bound the raw sores with plastic bandages. As he finished, he was aware that Wilf was feining unconsciousness. He smiled down at him and slapped his face lightly. Blade had the beginnings of a plan and if the lad was intelligent enough....

"You do not fool me," he told Wilf. "I know you listen and understand. Open your eyes and explain how you came here."

Sart was once again on guard in the door. Sybelline held a torch and peered down at her son. Wilf opened his eyes and stared at his mother sullenly. Sybelline was just as sullen when she spoke to him.

"This is the man Blade, Wilf. You will do well to answer him. How came you here, and why?"

Wilf scowled. He held up a bandaged arm, then stared down at his bitten legs. "The mole rats nearly killed me. I lost my spear bar."

Blade knew one thing. Wilf had courage. Blade made his voice friendly. "You did not come down the chute?"

Wilf looked at Blade a long time before answering. Suddenly he smiled. He ignored his mother and smiled and Blade saw what he had seen so often in Dimension X-awe, hero worship and a willingness to serve. He could use such things. Wilf could not have come at a better time.

"No," said Wilf. "I did not come by the chute, though I know of it."

"How much do you know of it?" Sybelline's tone spoke her emotions. She was not pleased with her son.

Blade glared. "Do not interrupt."

"I can read Morphi script," said Wilf. "I go up into the city any time it pleases me. For long I have done this. I have explored, Mother. I have followed you and you never knew. I have studied the Moon and the orbfolk through telescopes. I have watched and listened when you spoke to Onta, the Selene. I-"

Blade put a hand over his mouth. "Enough." He looked at Sybelline. She did not meet his eye.

"I have no interest in any of that," said Blade. "How came you here, if not by the chute?"

Wilf laughed, eager to talk to Blade. "I found old drawings in the rock mine files. There are pa.s.sages that lead down past the pits-"

Sart groaned from the door. "The five mile pits!"

Blade silenced him. "Go on, Wilf."

"As I saw, I found old drawings. They marked out pa.s.sages that have been long forgotten. With the aid of such a map I was able to find my way down here. It was easy enough at first. It led me down past the pits-they are all dead there now-and I found a ramp that leads directly into this place. All went well until the mole rats attacked me."

Blade nodded. "You have such a map with you?"

Wilf was wearing the plastic shorts of the Morphi. He reached into a pocket and drew out a folded square of plastic, tattered and stained. Blade took it from him. He did not examine it but tapped it with a finger and looked at Sybelline. "What other way is there back to the city level?"

Sybelline shrugged. "Without the power for the lifts there is only one-an escape ladder. I know where it is. In my time I have never known of anyone using it. But I have read that back in other times the young Morphi, the athletes, contested each other to see who could climb it in the shortest time."

Blade pondered that, calculating. They were about six miles deep. He was not going to climb any such ladder if he could help it. He doubted his ability to do so. The heat was telling on him and his sweat never stopped dripping.