It was all over in a matter of seconds. Quiet descended as the last unconscious body fell. Before turning back, I hurled grenades down the length of the nave so that anyone entering would walk into the gas cloud. Then I looked at He.
Lovely. A roaring pillar of fire with something in its core that might have been a man. The throne burned as well and the column of greasy smoke roiled up toward the great dome above.
“You are beaten, He, beaten,” I shouted leaning forward across the table to get a better look. He would not be surviving this attack.
Napoleon lifted his head from the table and sat up.
“Don’t be foolish,” he said.
I wasted no time in thought but tried to kill him. But he was ready and fired before I did with the tubelike weapon concealed in his palm. Fire washed across my face; then it was numb, my body numb, everything, no control. I dropped facedown onto the table. Nor could I feel Napoleon’s hands when he rolled me over. He was looking down at me, smiling, roaring with victorious laughter, laughter with more than an echo of madness in it. And he was watching my face as well, my eyes which I could still control, waiting for the widening that meant I understood at last.
“That is right!” he shouted. “I am He. You have lost. You have burned, destroyed that fine android whose only function was to deceive you into that action. It was a trap for you, everything here, even the existence of this world, this loop in time, has no function other than in being a trap for you. Did you forget so quickly that a body is merely a shell for me, the eternal He? My brain has mastered death and lives on. Now in this imitation of a mad emperor. He never knew what real madness was.
“You have lost—and I have won forever!”
15
THIS WAS A temporary setback. I suppose that normally I would have felt defeated, afraid, angry, suffered under some kind of useless emotion. Now I just waited for the opportunity to kill He again. This was getting very boring; after two tries he was still alive. I resolved that the third would be the final one.
He bent and tore at my clothes, searching me with brutal thoroughness. Ripping my clothing into hanging shreds, pulling off devices that adhered to my skin, taking the knife from my ankle, the gun from my wrist, the tiny grenades from my hair. Within seconds every weapon I could reach was gone. The few weapons and devices left were well out of reach. Very thorough. The search over, he discarded me, flinging my limp body face upward onto the table.
“I have prepared everything for this moment, everything!” He bubbled as he talked, and saliva streaked his chin. I heard the rattle of chains as he picked up my wrists and snapped heavy metal fetters about them. They were joined together by a short length of heavy chain. As the cuffs closed, there was a brief flash of light as the ends welded together, and though I could feel nothing, I saw the instant blistered redness of my skin inside the metal. Not important. Only when this was done did he put a needle into my wrist.
Feeling began to return, first to my hands, great pain in my wrists, and then to my arms. There seemed to be a lot of pain associated with the return of sensation. I ignored this although spasms shook my body uncontrollably. In the end I shook myself off the table, falling heavily and uncontrollably to the floor. He bent and picked me up at once, dragging me across the width of the great cathedral. His strength, even in the disguise of this small body, was tremendous.
In the brief instant I had lain on the floor I had grabbed something with my fingers. I did not know what it was, other than small and metallic, and it was now clenched tightly in my fist.
There was a solid metal pillar, waist-high, that stood about five meters from the time-helix controls. This too was waiting for me. He held my wrists apart and laid the chain that joined them into a groove in the top of the pillar. There was another flash of light as the chain was welded to the solid metal. He released me, and I swayed but did not fall. Sensation and control were returning to my body, and I mastered it as he went to the controls and made some adjustments. The vast cathedral was silent; we were alone except for the huddled bodies.
“I have won!” he screamed suddenly, doing a little dance step that sent spittle flying from his chin. He pointed to the coiled form of the time-helix and laughed out loud. “Do you realize that you are now in a loop of time that does not exist, that I called into being to trap you, that will vanish as soon as I leave it?”
“I suspected that. Napoleon lost in our textbooks.”
“He won here. I gave him the weapons and aid to conquer the world. Then I killed him when my new body was ready. This loop in time came into being when I did that, and its existence created a barrier in time that will go down as soon as it ceases to exist. When I leave, this will happen, but not instantly; that would be too easy for you. I want to think of you here, alone, knowing that you have lost and that your future will never exist. There is a time-fixator on this building. It will be here after London and the entire world are gone, perhaps longer than you. You might even die of thirst before it shuts off. Then again you may not. I have won.”
He screamed this last as he turned to the controls again. I opened my fist to see what weapon I had in my palm that might defeat him at this final moment.
It was a small brass cylinder that weighed no more than a few grams. One end had small poles punched in it, and when I turned it over, fine white sand came out. A sander, used for drying the writing ink on papers. I might have wished for a better weapon, but this would have to do.
“I leave,” He said, actuating the mechanism.
“What about the men of yours here?” I asked, needing time to think.
“Mad slaves. They vanish with you, having served my purpose. I have an entire world of them waiting to welcome my return. Soon there will be many worlds; soon it will all be mine.”
There was nothing much I could add to that. He sauntered across the flagstones, a monster in the body of that tiny man, and touched his hand to the glowing end of the time-helix and was instantly engulfed by its cold green flame.
“All mine,” he said, the same green fire glowing in his eyes.
“ I don’t think so.”
I juggled the sander in my hand, testing its weight, measuring the distance to the controls. I could reach it easily. The settings for the time scale were a bank of keys, not unlike the keys of a musical instrument, and a number of them were depressed now. If I could push one more of them down, the setting would be changed; He would arrive at a different time and place, perhaps not arrive at all. I swung my hand in slow arcs, estimating the distance, the trajectory the little tube must follow to reach the correct place.
He must have seen what I was doing because he began to howl with insane rage, pulling at the time field that neatly held him tight to the end of the helix. Coldly I judged the distance until I was sure I had it right.
“Like this,” I said and tossed the sander in a high arc toward the controls.
It rose up, glinting brightly in a shaft of sunlight from a stained glass window, and arced down.
Striking on the bank of keys, then falling off to rattle to the floor.
He’s enraged cries cut off as the time-helix released and He vanished from sight. At the same moment this happened the light changed, dimming to dusk. Outside all the windows there was now just gray. I had seen this before during the time attack on the laboratory that had started everything. London, the world outside, everything, no longer existed. Not in this particular part of time and space. Just the cathedral had existence, held briefly by the time-fixator.
Had He won? I felt the first touch of worry; the effects of the drug must be wearing off. I looked hard, but it was almost impossible to see the indicator dials in the dim light. Had one of them moved just before the helix was actuated? I could not be sure. And it didn’t really matter, not to me here. Whether the future was hell or a paradise of peace could not affect me. With the return of emotions I felt a desire to know if my world would ever exist. Would there be a Special Corps and would my Angelina somed
ay be born? I would never know. I tugged sharply at the chains, but of course they held fast.
The end. End of everything. The emotions that were returning were only the blackest and most depressed, but I could not help it. End.
16
HAVE YOU EVER been trapped in St. Paul’s Cathedral in the year A.D. 1807 with the entire world vanished into nonexistence outside, alone and welded to a steel post and soon to vanish yourself? Not many people can answer yes to that question. I can—but can truthfully add that I do not enjoy this singular distinction.
Without much reluctance I am forced to admit that I felt somewhat depressed. I struggled a bit against the metal cuffs that held my wrists, but my heart wasn’t really in it. They were too tight and secure, and I knew this kind of helpless thrashing about would be just the sort of thing that He would enjoy with mad passion.
For the first time in my life I felt utter and absolute defeat. It had a darkening and dulling effect on my thoughts—as though I already had one foot in the grave—that removed any idea of struggle and suggested instead that the easiest thing would be to simply give in and await the final curtain. The sensation of defeat was so strong that it blanketed almost all feelings of rebellion against this untimely fate. I should be fighting, thinking of a way out, yet I just didn’t want to try. I was more than a little amazed at my submission.
It was while I was engrossed in this navel-examining introspection that the sound began. A distant whine just on the edge of audibility, so weak that I would never have heard it had it not been for the absolute silence of nonexistence wrapped about my cathedral-sized tomb. The sound grew and grew, as annoying as an insect, making me aware of it although I did not wish to be made aware of anything except my sensation of overwhelming defeat. In the end it was quite loud, coming from empty space somewhere high above beneath the dome. I looked up despite my lack of interest just as there was the loud bang of displaced air.
A figure appeared in the darkness above, someone in a space suit. Wearing a grav-chute because he drifted down slowly before me. I was stunned and ready for almost anything when he opened the dark faceplate of his space suit.
Ready for almost anything other than the fact that he was not a he.
“Get rid of that silly chain,” Angelina said. “You always manage to get into trouble as soon as I leave you alone. You’re coming away with me right now, and that is all there is to it.”
There was very little to say even had I been unstunned enough to say it. So I did a fine moronic gaping act and rattled my chains a bit as, light as a falling leaf, she drifted down to the floor. In the end her undoubtedly physical presence jounced my open synapses closed, and I did my best to rise to the occasion.
“Angelina, truly named. You descend from above to save me.”
She opened the faceplate of her space suit wider so she could kiss me through the opening, then took an atomic lance from her belt and began to cut away my chains. “Now tell me what all this mysterious time-travel nonsense is about. And talk fast, we have only seven minutes; at least that is what Coypu said.”
“What else did he tell you?” I asked, wondering just how much she knew.
“Now don’t you start being mysterious with me, Slippery Jim diGriz! I’ve had enough of that with Coypu.”
I jumped back hastily as she waved the atomic lance under my chin, then beat out the fire that was smoldering on the front of my garments. An angry Angelina can be quite dangerous.
“My love,” I said emotionally, attempting to embrace her while keeping an eye on the lance at the same time. “I conceal nothing from you, nothing! I know better. It is just that my brain is tied in knots from all this time traveling, and I want to know where your knowledge leaves off before I continue with the complete story.”
“You know perfectly well that I talked to you last on the phone. Big rush, you said, top priority, get over fast you shouted—then rang off. So I did, to Coypu’s lab, where everyone was running about and playing with the machinery and too busy to tell me anything. Back in time, they shouted, nothing else. And that horrid Inskipp no better. He said you vanished, just vanished out of his office while he was reading the riot act to you. Apparently he found out about that little bit of money you are putting aside for a rainy decade or two. There was a lot of babble about you saving the world or the galaxy or something, but I couldn’t understand a word of it. And all of this went on for a very long time, until they could send me back here.”
“Well, I did,” I said modestly. “Saved you, saved the Corps, saved the whole thing.”
“I was right, you have been drinking.”
“Not in entirely too long a time,” I muttered petulantly. “If you want to know the truth, you all vanished, poof, just like that. Coypu was the last one to go, so he can tell you about it. The Corps, everyone, they were never born, never existed, except in my memory. . . .”
“My memory is slightly different.”
“It would be. Since through my efforts He’s evil plan was foiled. . . .”
“His not he’s. All that drinking has affected your speech.”
“He is his name—and I haven’t had a drop in hours. Can you possibly listen without interrupting? This story is complicated enough in any case. . . .”
“Complicated and possibly alcoholically inspired.”
I groaned. Then kissed her, longer and warmer this time, a distraction we both enjoyed. This softened her a bit, so I rushed on before she remembered that she was supposed to be angry at me.
“A time attack was launched against the Special Corps, so Professor Coypu whisked me back in time to foil the nefarious scheme. I did all right in 1975, but He got away, went back to whenever he came from, then set up an elaborate trap here in 1807 to trap me. Which he did. But his plans didn’t work completely because I managed to change the setting on the time-helix so he was sent to a different time from that he had planned. This must have defeated his time-war plans because you appeared to rescue me.”
“Oh, darling, how wonderful of you. I knew you could save the world if you really tried.”
Mercurial of mood is the word for my Angelina. She kissed me with what can only be described as true passion, and I, clanking my lengths of chain, got my arms around her in happy response when she squawked and straight-armed me, so I reeled back, choking.
“The time!” She looked at her watch and gasped. “You made me forget. There is less than a minute left. Where is the time-helix?”
“Here!” Hugging my still-painful midriff, I showed her the machine.
“And the controls?”
“These.”
“How ugly. Where is the readout?”
“These dials.”
“This the setting we must use, down to the thirteenth decimal position Coypu said, most insistent about that.”
I played the keys like a mad pianist and sweated. The dials spun and hesitated, then gyrated wildly.
“Thirty seconds,” Angelina said sweetly, to encourage me. I sweated harder.
“There!” I gasped as she announced ten seconds. I kicked in the timer and threw the master switch. The time-helix glowed greenly at us as we rushed to its protruding end.
“Stay close and hug me as hard as you can,” I said. “The time field has a surface effect, so we must be close.” She responded with pleasure.
“I only wish I weren’t wearing this silly space suit,” she whispered, nibbling my ear. “It would be so much more fun.”
“It might be, but it might also be a little embarrassing when we arrived back at the Special Corps in that condition.”
“Don’t worry about that, we’re not going back yet.”
There was a sudden stab of anxiety just below my sternum.
“What do you mean? Where are we going?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know. All Coypu said was that the hop would be about 20,000 years into the future, just before this planet is to be destroyed.”
“He and his mad mob again,” I wail
ed. “You’ve just sent us off to tackle an entire planetary insane asylum—where they’re all against us!”
Everything froze as the time-helix actuated and I was whipped into time with that pained expression on my face. That expression lasted 20,000 years, which was exactly how I felt.
17
BLAM! IT WAS like falling into a steam bath—and falling was the right word for it. Hot clouds of vapor rushed past us, and the invisible surface could be ten meters or ten miles below us.
“Switch on your grav-chute,” I shouted. “Mine’s back in the nonexistent nineteenth century.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have shouted because Angelina turned the thing on at full lift and slithered up out of my fond embrace like an oiled eel. I clutched madly and managed to grab one of her feet with both hands—whereupon the boot part of the one-piece space suit promptly came off her foot.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she called down to me.
“I agree with you completely,” I answered incoherently through tight-clamped and grating teeth.
The suit stretched and stretched until the leg was twice its normal length and I bobbed up and on down as though I were on the end of a rubber band. I took a quick look, but there was still only fog visible below. Space suit fabric is tough, but it was never designed to take a strain like this. Something had to be done.
“Cut your lift!” I called out, and Angelina responded instantly.
We were in free fall, and as soon as the tension was relieved, the leg fabric contracted and snapped me back up to Angelina’s waiting arms.
“Yum,” I said.
She looked down and shrieked and hit the grav-chute power again. This time I wasn’t ready and I slipped right down and out of her embrace and was falling toward the solid-looking landscape that had suddenly appeared below.
In the small fraction of a second left to me I did what little I could. Twisting in the air, spreading my arms and legs wide, trying to land square on my back. I had almost succeeded when I hit.
The Stainless Steel Rat Saves The World Page 11