Planet of Adventure Omnibus (71 page)

The
passage-tenders returned slowly along the cavern, lights flickering up and
down, back and forth. The monitor stood looking after them. Reith tensed
himself: a critical moment. Turning in one direction the monitor must certainly
see Reith, not six feet away. If he turned in the other direction Reith was
temporarily secure ... Reith considered an attack upon the man. But the four
were still close at hand; a cry, a sound, a scuffle would attract their
attention. Reith contained himself.

The monitor
turned away from Reith. Walking softly he crossed the chamber and entered one
of the side passages. Reith followed, running on the balls of his feet. He
peered down the passage. Each wall was a ledge of pyroxilite. Remarkable
crystals thrust forth from either side, some a foot in diameter, faceted like
brilliants: russet-brown, black-brown, greenish-black. They had been artfully
cleaned and polished, to show to best advantage: enormous effort had been spent
in this corridor. The crystals offered convenient objects behind which to take
concealment; Reith set off at a soundless lope after the gliding Pnumekin,
hoping to take him unawares and put him in fear of his life: a primitive and
desperate plan, but Reith could think of nothing better ... The Pnumekin
halted, and Reith jumped nervously behind a shoulder of glossy olive crystals.
The Pnumekin, after a glance up and down the passage, reached to the wall,
pushed at a small crystal, touched another. A segment of the wall fell aside.
The Pnumekin stepped through; the portal closed. The passage was empty. Reith
was now angry with himself. Why had he paused? When the Pnumekin had halted
Reith should have been upon him.

He looked up
and down the corridor. No one in sight. He went on at a fast trot and after a
hundred yards came abruptly upon the rim of a great shaft. Far below gleamed
dim yellow lights and a motion of bulky objects which Reith could not identify.

Reith
returned to the door through which the Pnumekin had disappeared. He paused, his
mind racing with angry schemes. For a desperate wretch like himself any course
of action was risky, but the sure way to disaster was inaction. Reith reached
out and worked at the rock as he had seen the Pnumekin do. The door fell aside.
Reith drew back, ready for anything. He looked into a chamber thirty feet in
diameter: a conference room, or so Reith deduced from the round central table,
the benches, the shelves and cabinets.

He stepped through
the opening and the door closed behind him. He looked around the chamber.
Light-grains powdered the ceiling; the walls had been meticulously chipped and
ground to enhance the crystalline structure of the rock. To the right an arched
corridor, plastered in white, led away; to the left were shelves, cabinets, a
closet.

From the
corridor came a dull staccato knocking, a sound which carried a message of
urgency. Reith, already as taut as a burglar, looked around in a panic for a
place to hide. He ran to the closet, slid the door ajar, pushed aside the black
cloaks hanging from hooks, and squeezed within. The cloaks and the black hats
at the back gave off a musty odor. Reith’s stomach gave a jerk. He huddled back
and slid the door shut. Putting his eye to a crack, he looked out into the
room.

Time stood
still. Reith’s stomach began to jerk with tension. The Pnumekin monitor
returned to the chamber, to stand as if in deep thought. The queer wide-brimmed
hat shadowed his austere features, which, Reith noted, were almost classically
regular. Reith thought of the other man-composites of Tschai, all more or less
mutated toward their host-race: the Dirdirmen-sinister absurdities; the stupid
and brutish Chaschmen; the venal overcivilized Wankhmen. The essential humanity
of all these, except perhaps in the case of the Dirdirman Immaculates, remained
intact. The Pnumekin, on the other hand, had undergone no perceptible physical
evolvement, but their psyches had altered; they seemed as remote as specters.

The creature
across the room-Reith could not think of him as a man, stood quiet without a
twitch to his features, just inconveniently too distant for a lurch and a lunge
out of the closet.

Reith began
to feel cramped. He shifted his position, producing a small sound. In a cold
sweat he pressed his eye to the crack. The Pnumekin stood absorbed in reverie.
Reith willed him to approach, urged him closer, closer, closer ... A thought
came to disturb him: suppose the creature refused to heed a threat against his
life? Perhaps it lacked the ability to feel fear ... The portal swung ajar;
another Pnumekin entered: one of the passage-tenders. The two looked aside,
ignoring each other. The newcomer spoke in a soft voice, as if musing aloud: “The
delivery cannot be found. The passage and shaft have been scrutinized.”

The tunnel
monitor made no response. Silence, of an eerie dream-like quality, ensued.

The
passage-tender spoke again. “He could not have passed us. Delivery was not
made, or else he escaped by an adit unknown to us. These are the alternative
possibilities.”

The monitor
spoke. “The information is noted. Transit control should be instituted at Ziad
Level, Zud-Dan-Ziad, at Ferstan Node Six, at Lullil Node and at Foreverness
Station.”

“Such will be
the situation.”

A Pnume came
into the chamber, using an aperture beyond Reith’s range of vision. The
Pnumekin paid no heed, not so much as glancing aside. Reith studied the oddly
jointed creature: the first Pnume he had seen, except for a darkling glimpse in
the dungeons of Pera. It stood about the height of a man and within its
voluminous black cloak seemed slight, even frail. A black hat shaded its
eye-sockets; its visage, the cast and color of a horse’s skull, was
expressionless; under the lower edge a complicated set of rasping and chewing
parts surrounded a near-invisible mouth. The articulation of the creature’s
legs worked in reverse to that of the human: it moved forward with the motion
of a man walking backwards. The narrow feet were bare and mottled, dark red and
black; three arched toes tapped the ground as a nervous man might tap his
fingers.

The Pnumekin
tunnel monitor spoke softly into the air. “An abnormal situation, when an item
of delivery is no more than an empty sack. The passage and the shaft have been
scrutinized; the item either was not delivered, or it made evasion by using a
secret adit of Quality Seven or higher.”

Silence. From
the Pnume, in a husky muffled murmur, came words. “Verification of delivery
cannot be made. The possibility of a classified adit exists, above Quality Ten,
and beyond the scope of my secrets.
[xvii]
We may properly solicit information from the Section Warden.
[xviii]
“

The tunnel
monitor spoke in a voice of tentative inquiry. “The delivery, then, is an item
of interest?”

The Pnume’s
toes drummed the floor with the delicacy of a pianist’s fingers. “It is for
Foreverness: a creature from contemporary Man-planet. Decision was made to take
it.”

Reith,
cramped in the locker, wondered why the decision had been delayed so long. He
eased his position, gritting his teeth against the possibility of a sound. When
once again he put his eye to the crack the Pnume had departed. The monitor and
the passage-tender stood quietly, taking no notice of each other.

Time passed,
how long Reith could not judge. His muscles throbbed and ached, and now he
feared to shift his position. He took a long slow breath and composed himself
to patience.

At odd
intervals the Pnumekin spoke in murmurs, looking aside all the while as if they
addressed the air. Reith distinguished a phrase or two: “... The condition of
Man-planet; there is no knowing ...” “... Barbarians, surface dwellers, mad as
Gzhindra ...” “... Valuable item, invisible ...”

The Pnume
reappeared, followed by another: a creature tall and gaunt, stepping with the
soft tread of a fox. It carried a rectangular case, which it placed with
delicate precision upon a bench three feet in front of Reith; then it seemed to
lose itself in reverie. A moment passed. The passage-tender of lowest status
spoke first. “When a delivery is signaled by the gong, the bag is usually
heavy. An empty bag is cause for perplexity. Delivery evidently was not made,
or the item gained access to a secret adit, over Ten in Quality.”

The Warden
turned aside and, spreading wide its black cloak, touched the locks of the
leather case. The two Pnumekin and the first Pnume interested themselves in the
crystals of the wall.

Opening the
case, the Warden brought forth a portfolio bound in limp blue leather. The
Warden spread it apart with reverent care, turned pages, studied a tangle of
colored lines. The Warden closed the portfolio, replaced it in the case. After
a moment of musing, he spoke in a voice so breathy and soft that Reith had
difficulty understanding him. “An ancient adit of Quality Fourteen exists. It
courses nine hundred yards northward, descends, and enters the Jha Nu.”

The Pnumekin
were silent. The first Pnume spoke. “If the item came into the jha Nu, he might
traverse the balcony, descend by Oma-Five into the Upper Great Lateral. He
could then turn aside into Blue Rise, or even Zhu Overlook, and so reach the
ghaun
.
[xix]
“

The Warden
spoke. “All this only if the item has knowledge of the secrets. If we assume
his use of a Quality Fourteen adit, then we can assume the rest. The manner by
which our secrets have been disseminated-if this is the case-is not clear.”

“Perplexing,”
murmured the passage-tender.

The monitor
said, “If a
ghian
t
[xx]
knows Quality Fourteen secrets, how can these be safe from the Dirdir?”

The toes of
both Pnume arched and tapped the stone floor.

“The
circumstances are not yet clear,” remarked the Warden. “A study of the adit
will provide exact information.”

The
low-status passage-tenders were first to leave the room. The monitor,
apparently lost in reflection, sidled after them, leaving the two Pnume
standing still and rigid as a pair of insects. The first Pnume went off,
padding on soft, forward-kicking strides. The Warden remained. Reith wondered
if he should not burst forth and attempt to overpower the Warden. He restrained
himself. If the Pnume shared the fantastic strength of the Phung, Reith would
be at a terrible disadvantage. Another consideration: would the Pnume become
pliant with pressure? Reith could not know. He suspected not.

The Warden
took up the leather case and turned a deliberate stare to all quarters of the
chamber. It appeared to listen. Moving with uncharacteristic abruptness, it
carried the case to an expanse of blank wall. Reith watched in fascination. The
Warden slid forward its foot, delicately touched three knobs of rock with its
toes. A section of wall fell back, revealing a cavity into which the Warden
tucked the case. The rock slid back; the wall was solid. The Warden went off
after the others.

THE ROOM was
empty. Reith stumbled forth from the closet. He hobbled across the room. The
wall showed no crack, no seam. The workmanship was of microscopic accuracy.

Reith bent
low, touched the three protuberances. The rock moved back and aside. Reith
brought forth the case. After the briefest of hesitations, he opened the case,
removed the portfolio. From the closet he brought a carton of small dark
bottles, approximately the same weight as the portfolio which he closed into
the case, and replaced all into the cavity. He touched the knobs; the cavity
closed; the wall was solid rock.

Reith stood
in the center of the room, holding the portfolio, obviously a valuable article.
If he were able to evade detection and capture, if he were able to decipher the
Pnume cartography--all of which seemed intrinsically unlikely--he might
conceivably discover a route to the surface.

From the
closet he brought a cloak, which he draped about himself, and a hat, somewhat
too small, but which by dint of twisting and stretching he managed to pull low
over his head.

The Pnumekin
habit of furtive unobtrusiveness would serve him well; no one would attempt
greater furtiveness, less obtrusiveness, than himself. Now he must leave the
immediate area, and find some secluded spot where he might examine the
portfolio at his leisure. He tucked the portfolio into his jacket and set off
along the white plastered corridor, putting one foot softly in front of the
other as he had seen the Pnumekin do.

The corridor
stretched long and empty ahead, at last opening upon a balcony which overlooked
a long room, from which came a hum and shuffle of activity.

The floor of
the chamber was twenty feet below. On the walls were charts and ideograms; in
the center Pnumekin children took instruction. Reith had come upon a Pnumekin
school.

Standing back
in the shadows Reith was able to look down without fear of detection. He saw
three groups of children, both male and female, twenty to each group. Like
their elders they wore black cloaks and hats with flattened crowns. The small
white faces were peaked and pinched, and almost laughably earnest. None spoke;
staring into empty air they marched softly and solemnly through a drill or
exercise. They were attended by three Pnumekin women of indefinite age, cloaked
like the males and distinguishable only by lesser stature and somewhat less
harshness of feature.