The Mayan and the Sumerian – if they were such – would come in last, and they'd be disarmed as they entered the cave. They carried long knives and .69-caliber plastic-bullet revolvers. Joe and de Marbot would see that they were relieved of them. He would warn Nur and Frigate about the deed, but he wouldn't have them in on it. He still wasn't sure about the American or the Moor. His experience with the agent, the pseudo-Peter Jairus Frigate, had made him very wary of the real Frigate, if he was indeed the original. Nur seemed to be what he claimed he was, but Burton trusted no one. Even the titanthrop might be an agent. Why not? He was intelligent and capable despite his grotesque size and facial features.
Burton had to trust someone, though. There were two, himself, and, after so many years of intimacy, Alice. The others – ah, the others! He'd have to watch them closely but his instincts, whatever that much-abused term meant, and it probably didn't mean much, told him that all but two were what they said they were.
With their much-reduced packs, Joe still carrying the largest, they let themselves down on the last ledge. Moving sidewise on the toes and front of their feet, their arms extended parallel to their shoulders most of the time, they held on to whatever grip they could find, it wasn't long before they came around the curve of the mountain, perhaps two hours, though it seemed like a very long time. Then Joe stopped, and he turned his head.
"Qviet, everyone. You might be able to hear the thound of the thea beating againtht the bathe of the mountainth."
They listened intently, but only Burton, Nur, and Tai-Peng heard the waves against the rock and that might have been their imagination.
When they came around the shoulder, however, they could see the relatively bright heavens and, looming faintly in the upper regions, the hulk of the mountains that ringed the sea on the far side.
Of the tower, there was no indication, not even a dim bulk. Yet it was in the center of the sea according to Joe's own story and the reports from the airship Parseval.
Joe called, "Here'th vhere I came acrothth a grail thomebody left. Here'th vhere I thaw a thudden blathe of light vhen the Ethical'th aircraft came down to the top of the tower. And here'th vhere I thtumbled over the grail and fell to my death."
He paused.
"It ain't here now."
"What?"
"The grail."
"The Ethicals must've removed it."
"I hope not," Joe said. "If they did, then they knew that people could get here, and they vould've trathed the ledge down to the bottom and found the cave. Let'th hope that thomebody elthe came along and removed it. Maybe the Egyptianth did after I fell."
They moved on the seemingly thread-thin wet-slippery footing. The mists became thicker then, and Burton couldn't see more than twenty feet ahead with the aid of his lantern, which he had to lift from his belt hook when he wanted more visibility.
Presently, Joe stopped.
"What's the matter?" Burton said.
"Thyit! The ledge ninth out. Vait a minute. Lookth – and feelth – like it'th been melted down here. Yeah! It hath! The Ethicalth've cut the ledge out right here! Now vhat do ve do?"
"Can you see how far the melt goes?"
"Yeth. It lookth like it thtopth about forty feet from here. Might ath vell be a mile, though."
"How far up or down does the melt go?"
A minute passed.
"For ath far ath I can reach. Vait a minute. I'll thyine my light."
A few seconds passed.
"There'th thome fiththyureth about four feet above my fingertipth."
Burton removed his pack and got down on his hands and knees. Nur, who'd been just behind, crawled slowly over him. Joe and the Moor did a circus-acrobat balancing act while Nur climbed to the titanthrop's shoulders. Presently, Nur said, "It looks as if there are some fissures on a straight line. Enough for our pitons."
Nur continued standing on the titanthrop's shoulders. Burton handed the steel wedges and a hammer to Joe, who passed them on to the Moor. While Joe held Nur's legs firmly, Nur's hammer drove in two wedges. Burton sent up the end of a rope, thin but heavy enough, to Nur. He passed this through the eyes of the wedges and secured the end at the most remote piton.
The Moor got down onto the ledge by Joe's side where Burton held him from falling off while he put on a harness much like that which parachutists wear. These were made of fish leather and metal and had been part of the launch's stores. On the webbing on the chest were buckles to each of which strong plastic ribbons were attached. At the end of each was secured a small metal device containing a wheel.
Nur climbed back up on Joe. When he stood up on the titanthrop's broad shoulders, he passed one jaw of the wheeled device around the horizontal rope held through the eyes of the pitons. He snapped the device together and locked the jaws with a lever. Now he could slide along the rope attached to, the cliff face. When he got to the first piton, he locked the left-hand wheeled block to the part of the rope beyond the first piton. Then he unhinged the first block and slid along to the second piton.
Bracing his feet against the cliff wall, he leaned outward, supported by the ribbons, and began hammering the third piton into a fissure. This was hard labor and required many rests. The others needed food, but they were too concerned about Nur to have any appetite.
It took five hours for Nur, working patiently, hammering at the pitons, to reach the area above the ledge where it resumed. By then he was too exhausted to drive in another piton. He dropped down along the face of the cliff to the projection. Burton went next, climbing up on the giant's back to his shoulders, no undangerous feat. Without Joe's height and strength, the entire party would have been stopped at this point with no alternative except to go back. They would have starved then, since they did not have enough rations for the return trip.
Burton moved along the cliff face as Nur had and presently was at the other ledge. Nur caught and steadied Burton as he released the block and slid down with his hands extended to slow down his descent by their friction. Fortunately, the ledge here was broader than on the other side of the melt.
Those on that side had another problem. That was getting the heavy packs across. There seemed nothing else to do but to get rid of all except the most essential items. Unpacking was difficult, though, because of the very small space for footing. They helped each other, one clinging with a hand to a roughness in the wall while he or she reached over and opened the pack on the back of his neighbor. The items had to come out one by one and be dropped into the sea or placed on the ledge for repacking.
Everything went except the knives, firearms, the ammunition, some long heavy cloths, some rations, and the canteens. Part of those were placed in their grails. Alice and Aphra, the lightest, were to bring over what was left in Burton's and Nur's packs in their own.
Joe called across the abyss and asked if he should leave the inflatable kayak behind. Burton said that it shouldn't be discarded. But since Joe weighed so much, it'd be best to have de Marbot carry it in his pack. The contents of the Frenchman's pack should be parceled out between Croomes' and Tai-Peng's.
Burton didn't want the titanthrop to bring across anything but himself. So far, the pitons had given no indication of coming loose. But he didn't know what eight hundred pounds would do to them.
One by one, the others came until only Ah Qaaq and Joe Miller were left. When the Mayan made the passage, he used his hammer to drive each wedge in more securely.
Joe reached down gingerly and picked up his huge canteen. He emptied it and placed it back on the ledge. He shouted, "I vant to get acrothth fatht! Tho I ain't going to bother vith my harnethth! I'll thving over, hand over hand."
He leaped up and grabbed the rope by the first piton.
He moved swiftly, his long arms reaching out, grabbing the rope ahead of him and then sliding the other along. He used his knees to brace himself so he could lean outward.
Halfway across, a piton skreeked as it pulled out from its hole.
Joe was motionless for a
moment. Then he extended a long arm to the rope on the side nearest him from the next piton.
The loosened piton came free with another screech. Joe dropped down, clinging to the rope, and swung like an almost-stopped pendulum.
"Hang on, Joe!" Burton said.
Then he screamed with the rest of the party as the second wedge tore loose and the others followed.
Bellowing, shrouded in white cloths, Joe Miller dropped for the second time into the dark sea.
SECTION 13
In the Dark Tower
44
* * *
Burton wept with the others. He'd liked the huge man, had perhaps loved him. With his death the group had lost much courage, much morale-boosting, much strength.
After a while they turned around, cautiously, and continued the slow still dangerous descent. When six hours passed, they stopped to eat and sleep. The latter was difficult, since they had to lie on one side and make sure they didn't roll over while sleeping. They put their pistols against their backs so these would, they hoped, be so uncomfortable that they'd wake them immediately. Excretion was not easy either. The men could face the outer side of the ledge to urinate, though the updraft sometimes caused the liquid to blow back on their cloths. The women had to hang their posteriors over the ledge and hope for the best, which often didn't happen.
Alice was the only modest one. She required that the others look away while she was relieving herself. Even then, their near presence made her inhibited. Sometimes, though, the mists thickened enough to give her privacy.
They were a gloomy party, still numbed by Joe Miller's death. Also, they could not help dwelling on the strong possibility that the Ethicals had found the cave and sealed it.
The sound of waves crashing against the base became louder. They descended into the thick clouds; the cliff face and the ledge became even wetter. Finally, Burton, in the lead, was wet by spray and the sea boomed around him.
He halted and sent his lantern beam ahead of him. The edge ran into the black waters. Ahead was the outcropping, and, if what Paheri had said was true, the mouth of the cave would be on its other side.
He called back to those behind Alice, telling them what his light had revealed. He walked into the water, which was only knee deep. Apparently, the shallow ledge went a long way out since the waves were weak here, though powerful on both sides not far away. The water was very cold, seeming to turn his legs into icy clumps.
He came back to the black projection and worked his way around it. Alice came closely behind him. "Is there a cave?" Her voice trembled. He shot the beam ahead to his right. His heart was hammering and not just from the shock of the cold water. He breathed out, "Ah!"
There it was, the long-imagined hole at the base of the mountain. It was arched and low and would require that even Nur stoop to get through it. But it was wide enough for the boats which Paheri had described to pass through it.
Burton shouted back the good news. Croomes, fifth in line, screamed, "Hallelujah!"
However, Burton was not as exultant as he sounded. The cave could still be here, but the boats might not be.
He led Alice along the rope still connected to her belt and bent down to enter the mouth. A few feet inside, a smooth stone floor sloped upward at a 30-degree angle, the hollow broadened, and the ceiling rose to twenty feet. When they were all gathered inside, he ordered that they disconnect the rope. They shouldn't need it now.
He shone his light on their faces, pale and tired-looking but eager. Gilgamesh was on his far right, and Ah Qaaq stood on the left behind the rest. If Burton had not abandoned his plan to seize the two, the time to do so would be near. But he had decided to improvise when he had to.
He turned and led them up the floor to a tunnel. It curved gently to the right for over^'three hundred feet, and the air became warmer as they advanced. Before they got to its end, they saw light.
Burton could not resist running toward the illumination. He burst into a very large dome-shaped chamber and almost stepped on a human skeleton. It lay face down, its right arm-bones stretched out as if reaching for something. He picked up the skull and looked within it and at the floor beneath it. There was no tiny black ball.
The light came from huge metal balls, each on one of nine black metal tripods about twelve feet high. The light looked cold.
There were ten black metal boats on V-shaped supports and one empty support. It had held the vessel that the Egyptians had used to get to the tower.
The boats were of various sizes, the largest able to hold thirty people.
At the left side were metal shelves holding gray tins – the Americans would call them cans – each about ten inches high and six inches wide.
It was as Paheri had said it was.
Except that three human skeletons clad in blue clothes lay by one of the large boats.
The others moved in, talking in low tones. The place was certainly awing, but Burton ignored its effect to examine the unexpected remains.
The clothes seemed to be one-piece suits, pocketless, seamless, and buttonless and with pants legs. The material felt glossy and filled out where his fingers had depressed it. He rolled the skulls to one side and shook the bones from the garments. One individual was tall and had heavy bones and a thick supraorbital ridge and heavy jaws. He had probably been an early paleolithic. The bones of the other two were of the modern type, and the pelvis of one was a woman's.
Inside each skull was a very tiny black sphere. If he hadn't been looking for them, he wouldn't have noticed them.
There was no evidence of violence. What had struck these agents down?
And what vehicle had brought them here?
He would have expected one of the flying vessels he'd glimpsed many years ago. But there had been none outside the cave mouth. Could it have floated away?
What or who had interrupted the three? Why hadn't the people in the tower come after them after a certain amount of time?
They hadn't because they were having troubles of their own.
Or they were dead, slain by the same thing that had felled these three.
X had to be responsible for this.
Burton reasoned that the same event that had downed these three had also resulted in stranding X and all the other Ethicals and agents in The Valley.
That meant that no craft could fly out from the tower to pick them up. Nor could the renegade fly one of his hidden vessels to the tower. He'd been forced, as Barry Thorn, to go on the airship built by Firebrass. And he'd failed to get in the tower.
From Burton's viewpoint, the event had made certain advantages for him and for X. The agents had obviously discovered the cloth-ropes hanging down from the cliffside and the tunnels, and they'd found out that the very narrow ledge had been used by people from The Valley. They had probably found the cave last, after trying to make sure that passage would be impossible for any more of the unauthorized.
If the three hadn't been killed, the cave entrance would be plugged up.
He strode to the shelves filled with tins. At the corner of each shelf was a plastic sheet about twelve inches by twelve inches. On it were figures of a man demonstrating how to open the tins. Burton didn't need the pictures since he knew from Paheri's story what to do. He passed a fingertip completely around the upper rim and waited for a few seconds. The top, seemingly of hard metal, quivered, shimmered, and turned into a gelatinous film. His finger penetrated it easily.
Burton said, loudly, "X forgot all about eating utensils and plates! But that's all right! We can use our fingers!"
Famished, the others quit looking at the objects in the cave and followed his example. They scooped out the beef stew – warm – with their fingers and, from the tins marked by a bas-relief of bread, brought out loaves. They ate voraciously until their bellies were stuffed. There seemed no reason to ration themselves. The supply was more than plentiful.
Burton, sitting on the floor, |lis back against a wall, watched the others.
If one
was X, why didn't he reveal his identity? Was it because he had only recruited The Valley people to have a backup team? People who might pull his chestnuts out of the fire for him if he was in a situation where he was helpless without them?
If so, why hadn't he told them more of what he expected from them?
Or had he meant to do that but events had happened unexpectedly and too swiftly? And now he was in a position where he didn't need their help? Might, in fact, believe them to be a hindrance?
And why was he a renegade?
Burton didn't believe X's story about why the other Ethicals had resurrected the Terrans.
Indeed, he wasn't sure that he hadn't been allied with someone whose true goals he would loathe if he knew them.
Perhaps that was why the Mysterious Stranger had been so mysterious, why he'd not told them the truth, why he was still in disguise.
If he were.
Whatever the truth was, it was long past time for the Ethical to reveal himself. Unless . . . unless X knew that some of this party were agents or other Ethicals. He would then believe that he had to keep his disguise until they were in the tower. Why in the tower? Because there he had means to overpower or kill his enemies. Or anyone else who would try to keep him from carrying out his schemes, beneficent or malignant.
These might require that his recruits be among the removed. He'd needed them only to get to the tower.
Why would he ever have thought that he might have to have their help?
Well . . . when Spruce had been interrogated, he'd said something about the Operator of a giant computer. Burton didn't know who the Operator was, but a computer might have been used secretly by X when, or before when, the resurrection project began. He might have put into it all the probabilities he could think of regarding his unlawful project and asked for an estimate of their happening. Perhaps, the computer might even have been able to come up with some that X couldn't think of.
One of the items offered by the computer was a situation or situations in which X might need recruits.
R.W. IV - The Magic Labyrinth Page 35