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IV. The Unknown and the Known

 

1

Arakal followed the white-bearded Colputt along the corridor, noting the number of interconnecting passages. They were now well beyond the end of the electrical cables that stretched down the mine shaft from the clearing, and were relying on Colputt's mantle lantern, which lit the corridors brightly as he led the way around a corner, and pushed open the door of a metal staircase that led them down and around, and down and around, seemingly endlessly, through a succession of landings blocked by heavy doors that must be shoved back, until they pushed open one last door, and the brilliant light of Colputt's lantern was swallowed up in an enormous room, its rough ceiling supported by massive pillars of uncut rock.

As Arakal peered into the gloom, he could see, beside the nearest of the pillars, a huge shadowy frame resting on coil springs. Within the frame was what appeared to be a metal box roughly the size of a large room.

"That's what you wanted me to see?"

"That's the lead-lined protective case around it."

As they walked forward, Arakal soon began to feel dwarfed by his surroundings. Only very slowly did the position of the pillar seem to change, while the frame, as he came closer, loomed higher and higher. It seemed a long time before he was at its base, looking up.

Colputt handed Arakal his lantern, glanced up at a raised metal ladder on the side of the frame, reached up, got hold of the lowest rung, swung himself up onto an awkwardly located platform to the side, knelt, and reached down. Arakal handed up the lantern, and climbed carefully up. As he stepped off at the top, Arakal crouched, squinting up into the glare and the shadows, sprang up, and pulled himself rapidly onto the ladder. He climbed up in the sudden dimness as the lantern passed beyond the top edge of the frame.

As Arakal reached the top, Colputt held the lantern up high.

"Look at the size of this."

Arakal had the impression he was on the deck of a ship. The flat surface stretched into the shadows, with a straight dark line down its center, and strongly braced metal arms reaching out from the surface to either side, bearing massive counterweights.

"This top opens?"

"Down the center. Each side of the deck swings back and up—like opening gates."

Colputt lifted a hatch in the deck, and led the way down an enclosed ladder into a confined metal booth with a narrow door. They stepped out on a metal walk, several feet above a billowing gray cushion-like surface. Some fifteen feet away, reflecting the lantern light in a few bright points, was a low, wide, smoothly curving metallic form with a broad dome rising toward its center.

Arakal moved further along the walk, to find a better angle of vision. A second set of reflections, further away, shone back at him.

Arakal glanced at Colputt.

"Two of them?"

"Yes."

"What are they?"

"If I'm not mistaken, they are two samples of the Old O'Cracys' 'ground-effect machines'. If so, they can cross solid ground, quicksand, swamps, beaches, rivers, and even stretches of ocean. So long as it's fairly level, it's all the same to a ground-effect machine."

"They fly?"

"Not exactly. They ride above the surface on a cushion of air. They use the air the way a wagon uses wheels."

"What do they use for power?"

"I hardly dare say it," said Colputt, "but from a list we found in an office upstairs, I think these use a form of atomic engine. Incidentally, they aren't as big inside as they look. Only the center part seems usable."

"What was the list you found?"

"Fuel requirements. It listed amongst other things, 'platform couriers'. There were apparently eighteen 'platform couriers', plus two more for spares. We think these are the two spares. Beside each of these 'platform couriers' was a little number that referred to a note, 'See Nuclear Fuels Section'. The list was all we've found, so far."

"Are these in as good shape as everything else seems to be in here?"

"We don't know yet. If you care to go a little closer, I'll show you the problem."

They dropped from the walk, plunged through the cushioning material, and climbed out on the curving metal surface. Colputt stepped forward, and held the lantern so that the light shone through a transparent section of smooth upcurving dome. They leaned forward.

Inside was a sort of padded armchair before a wide curving covered panel. Everything they could see had a sleekly finished appearance, with no working machinery in sight. Arakal straightened, frowning, and looked around. The outside surface was smooth, with no visible joins or openings. Even the transparent window seemed of one piece with the metallic sections that adjoined it. Arakal ran his hand across the join, and felt only a smooth unvarying surface. He glanced at Colputt.

"I begin to see your problem."

Colputt nodded. "If there's a handle, hinge, latch, catch, or even so much as a pinhole here, anywhere, we haven't been able to find it."

"Could they have entered from underneath?"

"I suppose it's not impossible. But we've pushed underneath, and found no opening, and I don't see why they should have done it that way. And that is by no means all we don't see. The trouble is that our technology is nowhere near as advanced as theirs was. We'll just have to hope that somewhere in this collection of shafts and tunnels, we'll find something to help clear up the problems we can't work out on our own."

 

When they went back up to the surface, Arakal and Colputt found a quiet place amongst the oaks and evergreens, overlooking the new clearing where a rough shed had been built over the entrance for the mine shaft. Beside the shed, a massive steam-crawler ran the generator that supplied light and power to the crews working underground.

Arakal looked down into the clearing for a moment, then turned to Colputt.

"How long, do you suppose, before you'll be through here?"

"Well—first, we need a better way to ventilate the tunnels. Second, there are the questions raised by those dead but undecomposed bodies. Third, there are the ground-effect machines. Fourth, there's the problem of what this installation was, and how it fit in with the O'Cracys' plans. We may never find that out, and yet it could be important. Finally, there are your standing orders in case of a discovery like this, that we be very careful not to spread the news, since it might find its way to the Russ. That limits the people I can have here to a specially selected group."

"Nevertheless," said Arakal, "let's stick to it. I'm sure the Russ have ways of learning our arrangements that would surprise us."

"Well, then, there also are the details of the things in there. There are books, instruction manuals, tools, equipment, even several workshops and a sizable laboratory." Colputt shook his head. "There's no way to predict how long it might take."

Arakal nodded. "Don't rush the work. This is just what we've hoped to find. It wasn't wrecked in the war, or stripped afterward. Take your time, and do it right. By the way, Bullinger is back with the Fleet. I suppose Smith explained our plans to you."

Colputt looked faintly guilty. "He offered to explain them. I was too busy."

"In that case, I'll explain them, myself. The main thing, though we don't know, is that there may be survivors of the Old Soviets' attack, somewhere to the west. If we could find a way, I would link up with them. We haven't been able to get through."

Colputt's gaze grew remote. "Some could have survived. Who knows? But is it so important?"

"It is to the survivors—and to us, if they have any of the Old O'Cracys' technology still in use."

"In time, we should get through."

"'In time' may not be soon enough. If you study the old records, you find many centers of technology to the West. But it's three thousand miles from one coast to the other. The Russ are not a great deal further away from our West Coast than we are. While we are locked up on the East Coast, they could take over the west. They could, perhaps, even turn the remains of the Old O'Cracys' technology against us."

Colputt's eyes narrowed. "But since we can't get through—"

"Then we aim to cross the Atlantic, and free Old Brunswick, and, if possible Old Kebeck."

"What if the Russ are too strong?"

"It all depends on details." Briefly, Arakal described his plan, and Colputt, looking worried, said, "I am no general. But there is a serious risk from the Russ technology. In the first place, they may well have a spy network with transmitters planted in one of their former colonies. They could then get wind of your practice landings, and report them. Second, they may have ways to detect the approach of your ships. They could then shift their troops by the iron road, to meet you where you landed."

Arakal nodded. "It won't be easy. Now, what do you think of their building their war-ships, first over here, then where they are building them now? Why not build them at home? Why should they do it this way?"

"There are only two reasons I can think of."

"What?"

"Ice and enemies. If their home shipyards are iced in, they might prefer to build elsewhere. They might have preferred to build here, instead of across the ocean, because they could control their own colonists better than foreigners."

"Would their shipyards be iced in?"

"In winter, perhaps. I don't see any reason why it should be worse than before the war. There's certainly been no great climatic changes, or we'd have felt it here."

"The one certain thing is that they aren't stupid. They must have some reason."

Colputt nodded. "There has to be a reason. But it's hard to imagine what it could be."

 

2

S-One looked up at the strongly reinforced barrier of glass and steel above the dim courtyard. It looked as if it had been heavily dusted with flour. He shook his head, turned, and sat down at his desk.

"No word of Arakal?"

"He is back with the ships. They had another practice landing, this time at night."

"How did it go?"

"A disaster."

S-One smiled, and sat back.

"What happened?"

"Confusion amongst the units. There was bad weather, some of the troops reached the wrong beach, the arrangements for getting artillery ashore didn't work—Slagiron and Casey had an argument with Arakal—Just about everything went wrong."

S-One leaned forward, smiling.

"What about the argument?"

S-Two smiled, leafed through a sheaf of papers, separated one section from the rest, and handed it to S-One. S-One sat back comfortably and read:

 

Slagiron: "But it can't be done! And I'll be damned if I'll be responsible for landing men straight into the meat grinder!"

Arakal: "What about you, Casey?"

Casey: "After tonight, sir, I'll resign before I go on with this. We've got a hundred and fifty men missing, right now, just from the storm alone. We can't—"

Arakal: "Are you saying that I don't care about those men?

Slagiron: "A devil of a lot of good it does them whether—"

Arakal: "I was speaking to Casey."

Casey: "I don't say you don't care, sir, but that doesn't help them a bit. They're missing, possibly dead."

Arakal: "I see I am subject to criticism because I stayed on the ship instead of leading that landing. Well, that wasn't my idea. I'm going on the next landing."

Slagiron: "That won't help! It isn't—"

Casey: "Then you might be killed! That water is vicious! And in the dark—"

Arakal: "I want the next practice landing scheduled for tonight. Officers only. There's no army on earth better than ours, and if they can't do this, it's because we're giving them the wrong orders. The only way to fix that is to find out what's wrong for ourselves.

Slagiron: "But, even if we finally learn how to do it on this beach—"

Arakal: "Do we have any better beach?"

Slagiron: "It can still be a disaster on another beach!"

Arakal: "When those bombardment ships are ready, we've got to be ready. If we put it off any longer, it will be too late. This is the only chance we may ever have!"

Slagiron: "Sir, there isn't any time limit. We don't have to go now!"

Arakal: "The Russ aren't fools. Bullinger's visit has warned them that their shipyards, ports, and seacoast are vulnerable. One thing we know the Russ can do is make cannon. Another thing they can do is to calculate, and bring force to bear on obvious weak points. When we have beat them, it's been by surprise, and because they underestimated us. If we try to outcalculate them, and match force to force, they will win. We have to surprise them. We have to be stronger than they realize. We have to strike at a place they don't expect us to hit. We can't count on time to favor us, because time may be on their side. While we argue, they build. We have to appear off that coast before they think it's possible!"

Slagiron: "Buffon was saying—"

Arakal: "Buffon thinks we have land enough already. That we can develop what we have and defy the world. If we could get through that barrier of radioactive slag, he might be right. But we can't. So we don't know what's on the other side."

Casey: "In time, sir, the radioactivity should die down, and then—"

Arakal: "That's part of the problem."

Casey: "How—"

Arakal: "When that happens, what will we find on the other side? We are blocked from going through. But the other side is open to the Russ, coming from the West."

Slagiron: "You don't think they could be colonizing—"

Arakal: "How do we know what they're doing? It's easy for us to imagine that we are big, because we can all remember when we had practically nothing. But all we are is the half-alive head and right arm of the O'Cracy, with the rest of the body unconscious, dead, or smashed. Most of our memory is gone—the Russ even correct us as to what we call ourselves. We can't match the Russ until we recover the lands of the O'Cracy. And since we can't go West, we'll go east. But we have got to get there before the Russ expect us."

Slagiron: "About this practice landing tonight—"

Arakal: "I'm open to suggestions."

Slagiron: "Some of the officers who are going to end up going out are completely beat. It would be almost murder to put them through it again tonight."

Arakal: "Can you get together officer volunteers for one boat?"

Slagiron: "I'll volunteer myself. But it's going to be a worse mess than anything you can think of."

Casey: "I'll volunteer. But aside from possibly killing the lot of us—"

Arakal: "I am now murdering you personally?"

Casey: "I didn't say that."

Arakal: "I've explained my reasoning. But I am very close to the end of all explanations."

Slagiron: "Excuse me, sir. Casey—"

Casey: "To go out there tonight—"

Slagiron: "Casey! Who in hell do you think you are? Do you realize that for the last ten minutes you've been laying down conditions, questioning the judgment of your superiors, and generally inviting trouble? You think you're protecting the men, and you've done more complaining than any fifty of them, and half of that in the wrong tone of voice. Go out there and get the volunteers! No officers below the rank of colonel, except by special permission. And if you drown six hours from now, you can thank me you lived that long. Not another word! Get out! . . . The damned fool!"

Arakal: "How did you know?"

Slagiron: "I was there when Cotter said we had to give up. I remember how that went. He had almost exactly the same tone in his voice, and you told him almost the same thing—that you'd come to the end of explanations."

Arakal: "What's wrong with Casey?"

Slagiron: "His younger brother's missing. And, farcical as it may seem, Casey promised his mother he'd protect his brother."

Arakal: "It was my mistake not to be out there with the rest."

Slagiron: "Sir, you were worn out."

Arakal: "The water would have woken me up. But Casey had better come to an understanding with his mother, or get a guarantee from Almighty God for his brother. We can't make the training soft. And we can't be crying over a hundred and fifty men missing when the units are all mixed up. The wonder is we don't have a thousand missing."

Slagiron: "I think we ought to do this practice landing in daylight."

Arakal: "Good. Then we'll do it twice."

 

S-One lowered the papers and glanced at his deputy.

"How did all this turn out? The officers in the boat?"

"They went out twice, sir, and got wrecked on the beach each time, the second time at night. They came back in an indescribable frame of mind. But it was very popular with the men."

"With—" S-One blinked. "What was that?"

"The men, sir. The ordinary soldiers were delighted."

"I see. And the losses? The men who were missing?"

"Most turned up the next day, sir. Some had got lost on the beach; others were still in the wrong units."

"There is an aspect to this that is difficult for me to grasp. What are the relations now between Arakal, Slagiron, and Casey?"

"Back to normal, sir. Casey apologized."

"I see. . . . Well, there is still one thing, at least."

"What is that, sir?"

"Arakal recognizes that they need surprise." S-One smiled. "Though he is blockheaded, he does recognize that. But—" S-One handed his deputy the papers. "—they can't surprise us, whatever they do."

 

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