Manhattan Transfer

by John E. Stith

  Matt felt uneasy even in the comparative cover of the cylinders, each several meters in diameter, ranging in height from twice as tall as Matt to maybe five times his height. No matter where they moved, they were still visible from at least one direction. At least they could make sure they weren't visible from the monorails, which Matt figured were the most likely sources of trouble. Abby captured legends from the sides of the cylinders on video.

  "What the hell is all this stuff?" Julie asked quietly. No one answered.

  Matt took a long look in the one direction he could see and could detect no signs of motion. He jumped straight up, just far enough that his head and shoulders cleared the top of the lowest cylinder. He reached out and made sure the flat top was firm before he fell back to the floor.

  "Rudy," Matt said softly, "I want you to come with me on top of this cylinder so we can take a look around. Everyone else stay down here and stay as hidden as you can."

  Matt and Rudy jumped to the top of the cylinder and crouched. The surface felt quite solid. Matt pointed to the next–higher cylinder, and he went first. Rudy joined him seconds later and they both lay flat as they crept toward the edge that would give them the best view of the interior of this level.

  Matt made a slow sweep with binoculars as Rudy did the same. He could see almost all the way across the ship; near the center there seemed to be a section walled off from the outside. Spread out around the area they could see, were occasional massive concentrations of strange equipment. Their size and placement suggested that each major concentration of equipment was directly above a captured city or over a berth for one not yet here. Matt supposed the devices would be doing things like driving air and water and food down the tubes they could see vanishing through the floor, and pulling waste and used air back up for recycling. From each concentration of equipment seemed to be a monorail running to the walls of the central enclosed area.

  What they could see of this octagonal level seemed to be split into pie wedges by monorails that came from the enclosed midpoint out to each of the corners. Centered in each pie wedge, about five kilometers from the outside walls, were enormous red cylinders probably as big around as a city block, extending from floor to ceiling.

  Between the largest concentrations of equipment were smaller enclosures in a variety of sizes, dotted irregularly across the floor of the ship. Matt decided they might provide enough cover to let the group pass undetected.

  Beside him, Rudy said, "Uh oh."

  Matt took his eyes away from the binocular eyepieces long enough to see where Rudy was looking. He turned that direction and held up his binoculars. Just as Rudy said, "We've got company," Matt saw the approaching monorail car.

  "They may not be coming because of anything we did," Matt said.

  "True. It just makes me nervous."

  As the car approached, Matt was able to start resolving more and more details. By the time the car was a few hundred meters away, Matt could see two riders.

  Rudy saw them at the same time, because he said, "God, they look like giant spiders."

  #

  Dorine's daily telecast had begun on a more somber tone than usual. The police still had no clue to whether the letter–bomber was a lone crank or someone stirred up by one of the several rabble rousers vying for public attention. She now had people watching all the major dissident groups, but that small added sense of security barely diminished the pain of losing Tim Adjmati.

  As she explained the circumstances surrounding Tim's death, she couldn't help thinking about the fact that on the other side of the camera lens was someone who wanted her dead.

  "And now I'd like to address the person who did this. If you believe that an incident like this will change my policy, you're sadly mistaken. If you think that, had you succeeded, the person stepping into my spot would do things differently, you're an idiot. My only concern is the welfare of the citizens; more than a million people in this dome want to get out of here, or at the very least to know why we're here.

  "If you object to the quest for knowledge and control over our lives, then that's too bad. But the path we're on is far too important for us to be swayed by fear and intimidation. We're not on a playground where one kid with a handgun can intimidate the whole class.

  "It's a damn shame that Tim Adjmati died because someone within the sound of my voice thought things would change if I was dead. That's just plain wrong. We owe it to Tim, and we owe it to ourselves, to do everything we can to save ourselves.

  "And nobody with a letter–bomb is going to take that from us."

  Chapter 12

  Archies

  Abby heard the soft whoosh of air from somewhere on the other side of the cylinder just about the same time that Matt called softly down from the top of the highest cylinder.

  "Abby, I need you up here, but you've got to move quietly. The rest of you stay alert, and stay hidden from the monorail that goes toward the center of the ship. We've got company."

  Abby jumped to the top of the middle cylinder and her feet landed softly, making her glad she was getting better at judging distances. She turned to the one Matt was on. He lay flat on the cylinder top.

  Matt said, "Don't jump up here the same way. Jump just high enough to reach me, and let me pull you the rest of the way."

  Abby gauged the jump as well as she could, and leaped. Matt had to have a good reason for the request.

  Her jump brought her head and shoulders just above the top of the cylinder Matt lay on. Matt grabbed her hands and held on. Matt's body slipped slightly toward the edge, but with Matt's help Abby was able to crawl to the top of the cylinder.

  Matt held a finger to his lips, then turned his body around until he and Abby both faced the opposite side of the cylinder top, where Rudy lay quietly next to his backpack and Matt's. Matt put his lips very near Abby's ear and said quietly, "We spotted some of the residents. I want you to get some video of them in case that will help you understand their language. Take off your backpack so your profile is low. And so you don't make any sounds of surprise when you see them, they look kinda like big spiders."

  Abby turned her head until she was looking directly into Matt's eyes, not more than a few centimeters away. His pupils dilated for a half–second, and then settled back to normal. Despite the tension, she had time to be aware of the desire to be this close to Matt at some time when survival wasn't as immediate an issue.

  She eased out of her backpack and slithered toward the far lip of the cylinder, her minivid already recording. She touched the control at her temple and cranked up the lens as far up as it would go. The telephoto image jittered wildly as she moved.

  As soon as she peeked over the edge, she saw motion. A monorail car was slowing down as it neared the outside wall.

  In the car were two aliens who really did look a lot like large spiders, the way a cat would look like a dog to someone who'd never seen anything but dogs. The monorail car pulled to a stop, and the aliens got out.

  Their elongated and segmented bodies were about a meter above the ground, maybe a meter from front to back, and perhaps only a third of a meter wide and high. The rear segment was slightly larger than the front segment, and they were joined at a spot where the segments narrowed to a diameter no larger than a human neck. Both segments sported stripes of light fur that showed where their clothing didn't reach. She couldn't tell if their clothes served the same purpose as human clothes, or whether they just happened to be elaborate holders for the tool belts circling the forward segment. The clothes, if that's what they were, were black bands around both segments, covering about half of each.

  The segments in front bore single eye–stalks. Fortunately, their eyes seemed to be directed toward their destination, rather than at this trio of cylinders. Of course they could have a much wider field of view than humans did, so Abby stayed cautious. As they walked, one of the two aliens waved its eye–stalk back and forth a couple of times, perhaps helping it judge distance, or perhaps some body language Abb
y had no way to decipher. Abby got a glimpse of one of their mouths and saw dark teeth.

  Each alien had eight long, multi–jointed furry legs, thicker than large crab legs, and Abby thought about all the octagons contained in the ship's design. The four front legs swiveled from joints under the first segment; the rear four were attached to the back segment. The aliens walked on their middle four limbs, making the two in front and two in back available for other purposes.

  At the end of each limb was an appendage that looked vaguely like a monkey's hand, with dark fur but short individually articulated digits.

  As they walked, Abby realized that she must have subconsciously expected them to move with slightly jerky actions, as though drunk or uncoordinated, and she realized that impression must have been generated by too many old films in which creatures unlike humans were photographed with stop–motion or animation. These creatures walked fluidly, gracefully, with almost all the joints bending smoothly and in unison. In their own way, they were very pretty.

  The creature in front reached the elevator door and pressed one of the buttons with a graceful motion. The elevator door opened almost immediately. The two spider–like aliens went inside and pulled the door closed behind them. Abby hadn't seen any indication that the aliens had been aware of their presence.

  To Abby's right, Rudy let out a sigh. To her left, Matt said, "Wow. Let's get out of here."

  The three of them slowly backed away from the edge. When they were near the opposite side, they put their backpacks on. One at a time, they swung over the edge of the roof and dropped gently back down to the floor.

  Matt described what they had seen to Julie, Richard, and Bobby Joe, "I want to get away from the monorail while things are quiet. Abby's got video we can all look at when we get someplace a little safer."

  Richard pointed toward the nearest huge red cylinder. "I suggest we head toward that cylinder. It's the largest thing around, and the only thing that reaches the ceiling, so from what I can see here, it's got the best odds of being associated with the propulsion system."

  Matt considered that for a few seconds. "All right. I'll take the lead. After me, Abby, Bobby Joe, Richard, Julie, and Rudy. You know the drill."

  Matt took a quick look around, then headed for a pair of boxy cabinets not far off. He moved quickly and smoothly. From there, he signaled for Abby to follow. She ran, the mechanical nature of all the surroundings giving her the feeling that she was running across bare space on a hugely magnified circuit board. She reached Matt at the integrated circuit without tripping on a resistor or capacitor. "What if they've got monitoring cameras on the ceiling?"

  "Then we're dead," Matt said. "But if they're monitoring the ship in such detail that they could see us, they'd be running the risk of information overload. This is a huge place. As long as they don't know we're out, we've got a chance. As soon as they suspect they've got problems, then we could have a tough time staying undetected."

  Bobby Joe reached their side and gave the go–ahead to Richard.

  Matt said, "Bobby Joe, make sure you've got the coordinates of that corner noted."

  Bobby Joe nodded. "The vertical measurements are all screwed up, but I can get the X–Y."

  The next spot of cover was a curving U–shaped fence–like barrier formed by a series of vertical dumbbell–shaped uprights. From there, the group worked their way over the strange terrain, moving from one structure to another as the equipment housings grew more numerous.

  Almost thirty minutes later, they reached a structure that reminded Abby of an oversized doghouse. The six of them huddled inside.

  "All right," Matt said. "I think from here on we can risk going a little faster, and moving in a group."

  "We're really up against spiders?" Richard asked suddenly.

  "Yes. Abby, you want to let people take a look at the video you took? It's probably for the best that anyone who's going to be shocked, get it over with here in private instead of the next time we see them up close."

  Minutes later, Bobby Joe said, "They're not exactly like Earth spiders. Real arachnids that look like this have all eight legs attached to the forward segment. And their mouths are different."

  "I assume the 'hands' are different, too," Richard said.

  Julie said, "I'm glad they look like spiders. I'd like this even less if they turned out to look like cuddly bunnies or something."

  Abby didn't say anything, but she realized she actually felt the opposite way. If appearances were part of the equation, she wished their captors were cuddly and cute, making it as difficult as possible for anyone in the group to pull the trigger or light the fuse or do whatever one did. They had to be absolutely certain they were doing the right thing.

  #

  Stuart Lund walked up Broadway feeling agitated. There had to be a way he could force the mayor to call back the expedition team.

  The wide street stretched almost twenty blocks ahead of him before the curve near Times Square hid it from view. Occasionally Stuart's gaze would drift up the lengths of the tall buildings ahead, and then he'd notice the overhead dome, and then he'd get even more agitated. God had called on Stuart, and here he was, apparently ineffectual.

  His congregation understood. And as much as he was saddened by the death of the man sorting the mayor's mail, he took pride in the fact that they had sent her a message. For the mayor to believe that her view was the only correct interpretation of the situation was just maddening. How could she be so blind that she could think she understood the one true way?

  There had to be a way to convince her, a way to show her the mail–room incident was a real expression of the wills of thousands of people, millions of people.

  Stuart walked for blocks lost in thought. Occasionally he'd almost bump into someone and then pay more attention for a few seconds. Quite a few people were on the street, but the pace was decidedly slower than on Earth. Many of these people must have been out for a walk or just people–watching. They didn't move with the same fervor they had possessed when they had been on the way to work or on the way to a Broadway production.

  Stuart reached 33rd Street and crossed against the light. Normally he was one of the few people who waited on the corner when the traffic was clear, but when traffic was almost nonexistent he felt no harm was done.

  He neared 34th Street and saw that Macy's was closed. The fact made perfect sense, but it was still unsettling. Macy's of all places.

  Stuart started to cross 34th Street against the light. When he was halfway across the street, he took another look both ways for traffic. A second later he stood motionless in the middle of the street, looking up and to his right. There, on the south side of 34th Street was the Empire State Building, reaching, it seemed, all the way to the dome above. Stuart stood mesmerized, his thoughts racing.

  Stuart still remembered his first visit to Manhattan. His parents had brought him, and on their first day they went to the top of the Empire State Building. The building had seemed to Stuart to be New York. It was somehow a symbol of the whole sky–scraper island for him. He never thought of New York as the empire state, but whenever he thought about the Empire State Building, he was instantly reminded of the congregation of tall buildings and mid–town Manhattan and pretzel vendors and seeing the Statue of Liberty in the distance and seeing the wake of the Staten Island Ferry. The Empire State Buildingwas New York.

  Seconds later Stuart realized he was standing in the middle of 34th Street as people passed him on either side.

  Suddenly he knew he had to go to the top. He turned and walked back to the curb, then down 34th Street toward the Empire State Building. From here he couldn't tell if any people were on the observation decks. He didn't know if the elevators were running. But he had to go. He had an idea.

  #

  Abby gave Matt a head start and followed. Behind her Bobby Joe followed.

  She felt filthy, sweaty. The men were probably even filthier by now, and they all looked like unshaven bums. Except Matt. He,
too, was unshaven and ragged, but somehow he didn't look like a bum. Bobby Joe's combination of bald skull and facial hair made him look vaguely as if someone had twisted his head upside down.

  She desperately wished for sleep. They'd taken a short break that seemed no longer than ten minutes, and then it was over.

  They scurried across the floor from one piece of cover to the next. In the distance ahead was the tall red cylinder stretching all the way to the ceiling. About midway between it and where they were was a large collection of equipment cabinets and big machinery of unknown purpose.

  They skirted a small field that looked like a graveyard with metal posts instead of tombstones. As Abby forced her body to keep up with the long, slow strides, she thought again about how tired she was. And if she was this tired, the odds were that Bobby Joe and Julie were even more tired. They weren't complaining, though, and neither would she.

  After almost a half–hour they reached a structure with a roof so low even Abby had to duck. Poles at each of the four corners supported the thin roof, and stubby walls on two sides rose about a meter off the ground. It vaguely resembled a carport, but Abby had no clue as to what it was really for.

  The group took cover as Matt and Rudy scanned the horizon. Abby leaned back against the low wall and stretched her legs. Julie sat nearby, rubbing her ankles and calves.

  Julie and Bobby Joe groaned when a few minutes later Matt informed the group it was time to move again, but they didn't actually object. Within minutes of being on the run, they encountered another monorail track, this one running crosswise between the radial tracks.

  They crossed the track and kept going, the large collection of structures growing steadily closer. The dark shapes projecting above the horizon grew higher and more numerous, giving Abby the feeling she was approaching a huge oil refinery.