Ship of Dreams Page 17

  At the bottom of the shaft two zombies waited, the cowls of their white but now stained robes thrown back to reveal heads from which black, dry flesh curled in strips to expose gleaming white bone beneath. The elevator worked on flotation essence and a gauge on the wall showed lowering pressure as the bottom of the cage came into view. The zombies moved jerkily forward, swords in hands, their hideous faces peering through the metal lattice of the door as the cage bumped to a halt. Beyond that lattice, the “relief engineers” stood with their backs to the door.

  One of the zombies rattled the cage’s door impatiently, then both of the dead men grasped at the external handles and yanked the door open. As they did so, the pair in the cage turned, stepped forth, swung their heavy bags of tools and released them in unison, then drew their hidden swords in a slither of whetted steel.

  The zombies never knew what hit them. Knocked aside by the heavy bags of tools, they were allowed no time to recover. In a single moment their rotting heads were rolling and their twitching bodies toppling, and without pause the adventurers leapt for the door to the engine room. They threw the door open and hurled themselves through, taking in at a single glance the view that met their eyes.

  Seated on the metal plating of the floor and roped to fat pipes that passed along the wall behind their backs, one matron, two younger women and a lovely girl, a mere child, huddled together. A zombie with a sword in his belt—arms akimbo, his cowl thrown back to reveal a face and neck alive with wriggling worms—stood guard over them. A second zombie kept watch over a pair of engineers where they worked, chained to the mountings of the great, throbbing engines. The third and last zombie was shepherding two more engineers toward the door—the very men Hero and Eldin had come to “relieve”—and in the center of the floor stood two medium-sized glass carboys of thick green gas, their stoppers firm in their necks.

  For an instant the scene seemed frozen. Then as if time had been stopped briefly and restarted, everything came back to life. Perhaps, because of the very nature of zombies, the latter cliché is redundant on this occasion; but if death itself can quicken, then such was the case. The zombies recognized Hero and Eldin as strangers and therefore as a threat; the hostages, clapping hands to mouths, were likewise astonished but for the opposite reason; the weary engineers on their way to the elevator dropped into shocked crouches, their jaws falling open.

  Then the adventurers were moving into action. As they sprang forward the zombie guarding the hostages started to draw his sword and the one behind the crouching engineers shoved them stumbling into the path of the bearded avengers. Eldin was able to knock aside the man who blocked his way and leap toward the hostages, where already their monstrous guard was lifting his weapon to use it on the helpless females. Eldin, seeing that he had no time left, hurled his sword with such force that he threw himself off balance and went sliding full length across the floor. His straight sword, however, flew unerringly to its target and slammed into and through the zombie’s chest, lifting him from his feet and throwing him down.

  Hero meanwhile had untangled himself from the still astounded engineers and was closing with their former guard. The latter, instead of attacking as he might well have done, had picked up one of the carboys. The jar was unstoppered now and its contents were about to be poured into an injection valve to one side of the throbbing engines. The third zombie had taken up the other carboy and was making for the door back toward the elevator. Hero’s decision was therefore instantaneous; he hurled himself madly at the monster who threatened the engines.

  And without the assistance of the chained engineers, certainly he would have been too late. But even as the green gas began to flow thickly from the mouth of the carboy, so one of the men swung his chains against that jar and shattered it, filling the room with clouds of green gas and flying splinters of glass. At the same time his partner closed the valve, thus blocking any chance of the gas being forced into the city’s flotation chambers.

  By that time Eldin was upon the fallen zombie who had stood guard over the women. Avoiding the thrust of the downed creature’s sword, he somehow contrived to yank his own weapon from its chest and hack at its head, which with his second blow flew free and so put an end to that particular threat. Hero, too, was engaging in a little swordplay; for as the gas began to disperse in the engine room, so the zombie at the injection valve drew his sword and turned on his charges. The engineers were still chained to the engine mountings and could not run, but Hero was not about to see them harmed. His swordplay was dazzling as he engaged the zombie, disarmed and neatly beheaded him.

  Then, as Eldin raced for the door to the elevator and Hero saw to the freeing of the chained engineers, so there came that sudden, sharp tilting of the floor which told that not all of Chelos Smith’s teams had been successful. At least one of the sky-island’s engine rooms had been put out of action. The engines throbbed more powerfully yet as they fought to compensate, and little warning shudders seemed to run across the metal-plated floor in answer to the now uneven distribution of stress.

  Now the engineers were setting free their loved ones, working in an almost surreal atmosphere of mixed elation and nightmare dread, still unable to comprehend their good fortune and yet filled with horror at the realization that indeed someone was intent upon seeing Serannian go crashing to its doom.

  Then Eldin appeared in the doorway and his face was grim. “I got him,” he said, holding up his slimed sword, “but not before he tossed his damned bottle into the elevator shaft!”

  “Does that mean the elevator is out of order?” Hero breathlessly questioned.

  “Aye, I’ve tried her and she’s not working.”

  The adventurers stared at each other for a moment, then turned to the men and women they had come to set free. And at last the tension broke and a babble of voices began asking questions of the liberators. Finally Hero was obliged to hold up his hands and demand silence. Then, to an audience that hung on his every word with bated breath, he rapidly told his tale of Zura’s plot: how with the morning her armada of black galleys would sail upon Serannian out of the east, and how then she hoped to see the sky-island fall out of the sky.

  “And depending upon the success or otherwise of Chelos Smith’s other teams,” he finished, “that Princess of Death might yet have her way. As for us … stuck down here, as we seem to be for the moment, it’s difficult to see how we can be of any more assistance.”

  “Oh, but we can!” One of the engineers started forward. “We can see to it that our engines work to their very limits, giving the sky-island as much lift as they can muster.”

  “Also,” said another excitedly, “we can vent a little essence into the elevator and clean it out. Within an hour or so we should be able to get the hydraulics completely clear of that green filth.”

  And a third said: “That’s the least we can do. If there’s a battle in the offing—and having seen the way you two fight—why, it would be criminal not to make sure you have your share of the action!”

  And without another word, with Hero and Eldin anxiously looking on but keeping well out of the way, the engineers began working flat out to put things back in order …

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Swords of Serannian

  Allain Merrinay was waiting with a full squad of pikemen at the top of the shaft when the elevator jerked to a heavily burdened halt. Then the door of the cage was thrown open and Hero, Eldin and their charges piled out into the terminus. Two of the engineers had volunteered to stay below and see the job through until relieved by the next oncoming shift, but everyone else was present.

  When Merrinay saw them all it was as if a large portion of a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He congratulated the adventurers, said a few comforting words to the women, dismissed his guardsmen back to their stations atop Serannian’s walls and then led Hero and Eldin out into the fresh night air. The stars were still bright above the city, but even so the sky held that hazy luminosity which warns of dawn�
��s approach.

  “What time is it?” asked Hero of Merrinay. His question said a great deal, for he was one to whom time generally had little meaning and was of even less interest.

  “It’s almost four o’clock,” Merrinay answered. “Sunup in less than two hours. And if you’re right, that’s just about when we can expect Zura to put in an appearance. Meanwhile, we have more immediate problems.” He led them to where bicycles leaned against a wall and they mounted up. “Follow me,” he said. “The Tilt is in our favor. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”

  “That tremor we felt down under,” said Hero as he drew level with the councillor. “That was one of the engine rooms going out, eh? We guessed it was.”

  “You guessed correctly,” said Merrinay. “Which accounts for the Tilt being out of kilter. It was one of the master plants. Engines wrecked, pipes and the flotation chambers they fed filled with Zura’s damnable green gas. The rescue was successful, however, and all the zombies were destroyed. We’ll repair the mess eventually, of course—providing we’re given the chance.”

  As they freewheeled through Serannian’s streets, Eldin said, “But that’s only one engine room, surely? What of the others? How did the rest of our lads perform?”

  “Superbly,” answered Merrinay, “with one exception. And that’s the one that matters. That’s where we’re going now. Chelos Smith is waiting for you there, along with your friends Gytherik Imniss and Captain Limnar Dass. Smith has a plan—the craziest scheme I ever heard of—but he seems to think that you two can pull it off.”

  “Now wait a minute!” Eldin blurted. “Are you fellows never satisfied? Haven’t Hero and I done enough around here? I mean—”

  “I know what you mean,” the councillor quickly cut him off. “And yes, you’ve done much more than we ever had the right to ask of you. But now—”

  “Now it all hangs on us, eh?” said Hero.

  Merrinay nodded. “That’s right. As I’ve said, one master engine room is out of commission and will take days to repair. The other plants are back in our hands, with one exception. And that one just happens to be the biggest of them all. If it goes, then Serannian goes. Moreover, that’s where Kuranes is held hostage—the King, and three women with him.”

  “What of the two men who went down?” Hero asked.

  “A pair of fine, brave lads,” Merrinay answered, then fell silent.

  “So what you’re saying,” Eldin gruffly pressed, “is that we have to get into this last engine room, deal with the zombies and rescue Kuranes—and all before dawn?”

  Merrinay nodded.

  “Why us?” Hero asked.

  “Because you’re the best,” said Merrinay.

  For a long moment no one spoke. Then Eldin said: “Damn right we are!” And that was that.

  To the bemusement of the adventurers, Allain Merrinay led them right through Serannian’s nighted streets and almost to the harbor. They knew this area of the city and were doubly astonished when the councillor finally applied his brakes and dismounted outside the entrance to a certain establishment which they had used once before.

  “The air-baths?” said Eldin with a frown.

  Merrinay nodded. “I believe you’re familiar with them?”

  “We’ve used them,” said Hero, “aye. Is this where we’re to meet Chelos Smith and the others?”

  At that moment the doors opened a crack to issue a copious cloud of warm, scented mist, from which Limnar Dass stuck out his head to stare at them. The worried look disappeared from his damp face in an instant and he gave a whoop of delight. His head disappeared and there came muffled shouting from within. Then the doors were thrown wide and Chelos Smith appeared, his hand outstretched in warm greeting.

  Merrinay and the adventurers were ushered hastily into the reception room, where hurried hands began removing Hero’s and Eldin’s garments. The place was alive with pikemen, attendants, councillors and other dignitaries. Through the steaming vapors of an adjacent room, the adventurers were now and then able to catch glimpses of Gytherik where he stood talking soothingly to his gaunts; and seated on a bench was a trio of very handy-looking chaps, all naked except for belts and bandoliers of weaponry with which they seemed armed to the teeth.

  While Hero and Eldin gazed mystified all about and as their disrobement continued, Chelos Smith explained what was happening. “These air-baths,” he said, “get their essence from the master engine room where Kuranes is held prisoner. At least we strongly suspect he’s there, for where else can he be? Anyway, doubtless Merrinay has already told you something of the problem. One of the master plants has been sabotaged, and if Zura’s zombies cripple this one—” he shrugged helplessly. “It will be all over.”

  “But what are we doing here?” Eldin growled. “In the air-bath, I mean?”

  “I’d say that this is our way in,” Hero hazarded. “The zombies must have put the elevator out of commission. Now they’re biding their time, waiting for the dawn and Zura’s coming before—”

  “Before they pump their green gas into the sky-island’s main flotation chamber, yes,” Smith nodded.

  “Our way in?” Eldin continued to frown. “I don’t follow.”

  “Of course you do,” said Hero. “Since the essence which supplies the air-baths is vented from the main engine room, we should be able to trace the duct back from—” He stopped abruptly and his eyebrows lowered in a black scowl.

  “Now just hold on a minute!” He and Eldin were of one voice.

  “It’s not as difficult as it sounds,” Smith hastily reassured the pair. “All you’ll have to do is fight—which is what you do best of all. As for the rest: that will be done for you. There are maintenance men here who know every inch of the entire labyrinth.”

  “Labyrinth?” Hero was not reassured.

  “Oh, yes. There’s a veritable maze of great pipes and tunnels down there,” said Smith. He gestured vaguely toward some indeterminate point underground.

  “The more I hear of it, the less I like it,” Eldin muttered.

  “And you’ll have three of the best swordsmen in Serannian right there behind you,” Smith hurriedly continued. He nodded to where the heavily beweaponed trio sat waiting on their bench. “If you’d been five more minutes they would have gone without you.”

  “Well, that’s different,” said Eldin, beaming broadly. “I mean, let’s not keep these good fellows back any longer.” He cast about breezily with his eyes. “Just give us back our clothes and we—”

  “Eldin,” said Hero sternly, “you’re wasting time!” And ignoring the groans of protest from his burly companion he turned back to Smith. “In for a penny, in for a tond,” he said. “We’re ready when you are. Just tell us what to do.”

  “Do?” Smith repeated. “Why, you simply follow the instructions of the maintenance engineer, that’s all! My friends, after this you’ll be heroes!”

  “We already are,” said Eldin. “What you mean is we’ll be dead heroes, right?”

  “Serannian will fall to her knees before you,” Smith enthused, pretending he hadn’t heard Eldin’s remark.

  “Or right out of the sky on top of us,” added Hero darkly. “All right, councillor, you’ve made your point. Now let’s be at it before we change our minds.”

  Smith called over a near-naked technician and introduced him, then gave a thumbs-up sign to the three fighting men on the bench. They stood up and joined the group, making rapid introductions. “Right,” said the technician, a maintenance engineer whose job it was to tend the air-bath’s flotation systems, “follow me.”

  He briskly led them through an arched doorway into the bathing area proper; that great misty hall with its huge, moisture-slick table of stone, festooned with safety-chains. This time, however, the adventurers were offered neither belts nor chains but led around the vast depression of the bath and into a private cubicle which bore this clearly marked legend upon its door:

  KEEP OUT!

  MAINTENANCE

  ONLY


  “The public aren’t allowed in here,” their guide explained. He pointed to a blue-tiled, seething well of vapor in the middle of the floor. “A man could fall down there and never find his way out again!”

  “Oh?” said Eldin, directing his most powerful glare at Hero. “How very interesting.”

  “But you needn’t concern yourselves about that,” the man continued. “I’ve already seen to it that you won’t get lost. You see this?” He tugged at a rope whose end was tied in a great loop about the neck of the well. “All you do is follow me along the rope. You won’t see a lot because it’s pretty dense and there are no lights. But there again we don’t need lights. Just breathe easy and you’ll be fine. If you feel like you’re choking, don’t worry about it. It’s all in the mind.”

  • “Oh, goody!” said Hero, feeling his throat tightening even as he considered it.

  “No lights!” said Eldin. “I don’t much fancy that.”

  “Oh, there is one light,” said the maintenance man, “but that’s at the sharp end. I’ve already put it in position so that you’ll be able to see what you’re doing before you burst in on them. Also to give your eyes a chance to get accustomed. Otherwise, emerging from the duct into the brightness of the engine room, you’d be blinded.”

  “That’s all we’d need,” Eldin grunted. “Blind as bats in G-strings and sword-belts. Ye gods!”

  “That’s it,” the maintenance man chuckled. “Grin and bare it, eh? Bare it, get it?” Still chuckling he sat on the tiled wall of the well, swung his legs into the swirling vapors, turned his head and said, “Just follow on behind me, right? After you submerge, you’ll find it easier if you go headfirst. You’re weightless anyway so it doesn’t really matter which end is up, if you see what I mean.” And he ducked beneath the bubbling surface.