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Authors: Harry Harrison

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BOOK: The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell
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THIS WAS THE LAST BUCKETBIL in need of repair. We stretched the work out as long as we dared. Knowing that when it went back to work—so would I. In the rockpit. Before that happened we had to make our break together. One man could not do it alone.
All our preparations for escape had been made long since. It was just the idea of getting crushed along with the rest of the rocks that had been holding us back. I ran the file over the protruding bolthead. Stepped back to admire my work—then threw the tool onto the ground.
“Let's do it—and quick.”
Berkk hesitated a moment, then nodded grim agreement. I dug into the scrap pile and found the cosh that I had made. I pulled its strap onto my wrist and slipped the thing up my sleeve. It was just a plastic tube filled with ball bearings but would surely do the job.
Berkk looked at me and I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up. He wheeled about and stabbed the button that would summon our keeper.
Who was very slow about arriving. Undoubtedly involved in some other sordid task. Minutes slipped by and I saw the
beads of perspiration form on Berkk's forehead—even though the workshop was chill.
“Press it again,” I said. “Maybe he didn't hear it the first time.”
Again. And a third time. I slammed the cosh against my palm, testing it. Behind me the door rattled open and I just had time to get it back up my sleeve again as Buboe appeared.
“What you ring so much for?”
“Finished,” Berkk said, slapping the metal flank of the bucketbil.
“Take out,” Buboe said, turning his key in the lock. Cold wind blew in and he turned to glare at me. “You out of here. Go work.” He continued to stare at me, his back to the bucketbil, slapping the bioclast against his trouser leg.
“Sure, whatever you say.” I smiled insincerely instead of screaming.
This was not going right. He was supposed to be looking at Berkk so I could work my will upon him without getting a bioclast blast at full power. Behind him I could see Berkk climbing up the ladder and dropping into the control seat. The motor hammered and burst into life. And our captor still stared at me. And stepped forward.
“Out, go,” he commanded. Lifting the bioclast towards me.
The bucketbil's engine idled roughly and died.
“Something's very wrong here,” Berkk called out, staring down in horror.
We stayed that way as long seconds ticked by. The bioclast waving before me, the brute's eyes fixed on mine, Berkk clutching the steering wheel not knowing what else to do.
Luckily our thuggish warder's brain was incapable of entertaining two thoughts at one time. When the meaning of Berkk's words finally penetrated, he turned around.
“What happen?”
“This,” I said, released from frightened paralysis, taking a single step forward. The cosh dropped into my hand, I swung—
—and he dropped heavily to the ground. I raised the cosh
again but he lay, unmoving. Not stirring even when I pried the weapon from his grip.
“Let's do it!” I shouted, pulling the tarpaulin from off our horde.
Berkk lifted the first rebar cage and heaved it up into the bucket. I used the prepared lengths of wire to bind the unconscious man, ankles and wrists, then wired his legs and arms one to the other. He could untwist the wire when he came around, but it would take time. While we, hopefully, would be long gone. I tied the gag into his mouth and dragged him back just as Berkk was heaving up the second cage. I pulled the tarp over the bound man and straightened up. Berkk had the big outer door partly open, held it that way as I clambered up the side of the machine and dropped into the bucket.
“Anyone out there?” I asked as he got into the driver's seat.
“No machines, no one in sight.” He started the engine again and I could see his hands trembling.
“Slowly now, take your time. A deep breath, that's it. Now—go! And don't forget that you have to close the door once we're outside!”
The way he had revved the engine told me that he had forgotten the next step, driven now by panic and not intelligence. But having been reminded, he now did just as we had planned. Drove out through the door and stopped. Kicked the thing out of gear and locked the brakes. Climbed slowly to the ground and closed the workshop door. “Locked,” he said as he climbed back up again.
As we drove into the darkness, I pulled myself up so I could look over the lip of the bucket. Lights and trundling machines were working in the open pit ahead.
“Did you … did you kill him?” Berkk asked.
“Far from it. Skull like rock. He'll have a headache—”
“And we'll be gone. There's a bucketbil dumping right now.”
“Only one?”
“Yes.”
“Go slower, take the long way. Don't get there until it's gone.”
We slowed and rumbled on; I ducked back down as headlights washed over us. Moments later we stopped. The engine died but the headlights stayed on, illuminating the black bulk of the hopper.
“Let's go!” he shouted and jumped to the ground.
I realized I was still holding the bioclast. I threw it far out into the hopper and it vanished from sight. Then I heaved the first cage up and over the side onto the ground, bent and dragged up the other one. It followed the first and I went right after it.
We had planned this, step by step. And as long as we kept moving we did not have to think about what the last and final step was going to be. Berkk had clambered up onto the wide lip of the hopper, turned and reached down and grabbed the first cage when I pushed it up to him. Then the other. Only when I had climbed up beside him did I see that he was shaking from head to toe.
“Can't—do it!” He gasped, sat down and put his arms over his head. Beyond him I saw the sudden flare of approaching headlights.
“Too late to go back!” I shouted as I scrabbled at the steel frame and pulled the door open. “Get in!”
“No … ,” He pulled back. I balled a fist and hit him on the jaw. Not enough to knock him unconscious—I hoped!—but enough to addle his thoughts.
It worked. I hauled his limp body into the cage and was closing the sealing hasp when he began screaming and tearing at me through the bars.
“Keep your hands inside!” I shouted as I kicked the cage off the ledge. It rattled down into the hopper and vanished from sight.
Now—could I do that to myself?
“Good enough for him, Jim. It better be good enough for you,”
Easy enough to say; harder to do. I opened the hinged side
and looked down into the cage. It was like looking into a rebar coffin.
I don't know how long I stood like that, unable to move, unable to commit myself to the destiny I had so easily tipped my partner into.
Headlights washed over me. “Bowb!” I grimaced between grated teeth. Dropped down, crawled in, locked the gate. Took a very deep breath.
Reached through the bars to grab the edge. Pulled myself over.
Dropped into darkness.
 
As we go through life we should learn from experience. Some of us never do. I have done a number of foolhardy and very dangerous things in my lifetime. One would think that I would have learned by experience. I never have. I cursed loudly as my cage banged and clattered down the wall, held tight to the inside handles.
The banging stopped and I was in free fall. I clung tight, bent my knees and braced my feet against the bars—and waited for the inevitable impact. There was the twisting interuniversely feeling and a red glow appeared suddenly below, grew brighter. I was falling into a furnace!
Panic possessed me. My heart began to beat like a triphammer and I knew this was the end. A mound of blackness suddenly slammed into the cage with almost deadly impact.
There would have been no
almost
with that
deadly
if the broken rock had not heaped itself into a conical pile.
Pain burst hard upon my body as the cage hit the piled rock at an angle, bounced and slithered down. More pain in my side as a rock point stabbed in between the bars. Clattering and banging, sliding, finally thudding to a stop.
I had to move, but I couldn't. The next load of rock would fall on top of me, crushing and entombing me. If I didn't get out now I never would.
With trembling fingers I pulled at the lock bar of the door. It would not move, had been bent inwards by the impact. Panic
helped. I grabbed it with both hands, pulled and twisted with all my strength. Heard the roar of falling stone above me.
Pulled it free. Threw the door open and crawled out. Clambered across the broken surface as lumps of rock rolled by around me. One bounced off my leg, felling me. I crawled on. Until I noticed that the boulders were now moving out from under me, carrying me forward. There was just enough ruddy light to see that a wide, moving belt was carrying the rock—and me—to an unknown destination. Not a good one I was sure. Stumbling and falling I made my way to the edge, dropped off it onto the solid ground.
“Berkk!” I shouted. Where was he?
He was not being carried off with the crushed rock that I could see. But perhaps he had landed and bounced in a different direction, had gone down the pyramid of broken stone at a different place?
I was staggering, not walking. My leg still numb, a sharp pain in my side when I moved. Falling and climbing to my feet again and going on.
When I fell next time I grabbed a bar instead of stone to lever myself to my feet.
Bar?
I pulled and tore at the rocks over the half-buried cage until I uncovered his face. Still and pale. Dead? I had no time to stop and find out because the rocks around the cage were churning and beginning to move. I hurled lumps of stone aside until I uncovered the gate that I had closed such a very long time ago. By pure chance it was on top. If it had not been he would have gone on to certain death because I did not have the strength to turn it over.
In fact, I hadn't even the strength to pull him out once I had grabbed the gate open.
I had my hands under his shoulders, pulling. Nothing happened. He was too heavy, too tightly wedged. I exerted all my strength once again—and he still didn't move. I had to let go or we would both be in the rock crusher.
Then I felt him stir.
“Berkk, you miserable bastard!” I screamed into his ear. “Push with your feet. Try. Or you have had it. Push!”
In the end he did. I kept pulling as he pushed against the imprisoning bars—untit he tumbled out of the cage and fell on top of me. After that we crawled, on all fours, because that was all we were able to do. Across the lacerating rock surface until we were free of it. Went on until we had stumbled over the last of the boulders. Collapsed onto the ground.
Under the reddish glow his blood looked black—and there was a lot of it on his pale, filthy face. His clothing was torn, his skin cut and abraded. But he was alive. We both were.
“Do I look as bad as you do—?” I asked, my voice grating and rough with dust, ending in a coughing fit.
“Worse,” was all he managed to say.
I looked up at the pyramid of rock down which we had tumbled, as high as a mountain it seemed. By all rights we should have been dead.
But it was done. We were out.
“Let us not do that again,” I said with some feeling.
“We won't have to. Because—we did it! We're away from the mine and we're never going back.”
I GENTLY TOUCHED MY RIBS and yelped. “Sore, maybe broken—but there is nothing we can do about it now. And you?”
Berkk had climbed slowly to his feet and was hobbling painfully. “The same, I guess. I hurt from all that banging about. I panicked, didn't I?”
“It can happen to anyone.”
“It didn't happen to you. You got me into the cage and into the pit—and got yourself into it as well.”
“Let's say that I have had more experience at this kind of thing—so don't let it bother you. Most important is what do we do next?”
“Whatever you say we should do. You saved my life and I owe you—”
“But you saved mine when you tripped the thug who was trying to brain me. So we are even. Right?”
“Right. But you still decide what we should do now. Maybe I made the rebar cages, but it was you who made the plan work. What's next?”
I looked around. “Find out where we are, and try to do it without being seen. I have had more than enough excitement for one day.”
We walked beside the moving belt, trying to look ahead into the red-lit darkness. A distant rumbling grew louder as we went. We passed one of the glowing pits that provided the feeble illumination and I looked into it. It was filled with a liquid, maybe water, and the glow was coming from the bottom. I dropped in a piece of rock. It splashed nicely then slowly vanished from sight as it went under. Another mystery, but not one of any great importance at the moment.
“Lights ahead,” Berkk said, and so there were. White for a change—and they were on our side of the rumbling, moving belt.
“Wrong side,” I said. “I would prefer to be in the dark when investigating. Think you can climb over this thing?”
“Lead the way.”
It was easy enough once we had clambered, slowly and painfully, up onto the belt, since it wasn't moving very fast. We slipped and stumbled over the broken stone, jumped painfully down on the other side. Walked alongside it as we came closer to the lights, the rumbling getting louder all the time. We bent over as we walked, hiding in the shadows. Trying not to stumble over the bits of rock that had fallen from the belt. Reached the end of the belt and looked out.
It was about what I had expected. Seen one rock crusher you have seen them all. The belt ended and the crushed rock fell from the end into a wide hopper. Below this a series of paired metal rollers, each set above the other, crushed the rock into ever-smaller pieces. Undoubtedly ending up as the fine dust that I had seen dumped onto the sorting tables. The rollers were set into a steel frame that vanished out of sight into an immense pit below. Spotlights were set into the pit walls to illuminate the scene. We bent over, then crawled the last bit and peered over the edge. Berkk pointed.
“Steps. Looks like they go all the way to the bottom.”
I nodded agreement, leaning out so I could see. “Landings at various levels to service the machine. And what looks like a control area at the very bottom.”
“See anyone?”
“No—but we are still going to be very careful. I'll take a look down the stairs—”
“No way! You move, I move. We're in this together.”
He was correct, of course. There was no point in splitting up at this time.
“All right—but I go first. Stay behind and cover my back. Ready?”
“No,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “And I doubt if I ever will be. But it's not going to get any better. So I guess that I'm as ready as I am ever going to be.”
He was learning fast. I moved over against the wall and started down. When I reached the first landing I waved him after me, then stayed in the shadows of a great discarded and cracked roller. When he had joined me I pointed at the thick dust on the stairs. “Notice anything?” I shouted over the clattering roar of the rock crushers.
“Yes—the only footprints are ours.”
“And the dust is centimeters thick. No one has been on these stairs in a very long time. But they could be waiting for us down below. Careful as we go.”
The noise grew with each level we dropped, until it reached an almost brain-destroying volume. Still no one in sight—nor footsteps in the dust. I went faster now, driven on by the noise. Slower when I was just above the floor of the pit with the grouped instrumentation and controls. I waved Berkk to my side and pointed; ne nodded agreement. There was no way that we could hear anything other than the eternal roar. But we could see where the dust had been disturbed, scuffed and covered with footprints in front of the controls. On the far side a jumbled trail of prints led beside a thick pipe that vanished into the wall.
Beside the pipe there was a sturdy metal door set into the same wall.
I pointed at the door and punched my fist into the air in a victorious gesture.
Now—out of he pit—before my brain was curdled. I let the cosh, still secured in place by its strap, slip into my hand. I
crouched before the door and touched the big locking wheel that was set into it, then pointed to Berkk. He clutched it in both hands, exerted his strength. Muscles stood out in his neck with the strain.
Nothing happened. I pulled at his arm and when he looked around I made gestures of turning the wheel in the opposite direction, clockwise.
This worked fine. It turned and the door opened a fraction when I put my weight against it. Massive and heavy. I pushed it open enough to look through the crack into a small, metal-walled room. Empty as far as I could see—with another door set into the far wall. We pushed it wide and went in, closed and sealed it behind us. As we did the sound was cut to a distant rumbling.
“It's like an airlock,” Berkk said. I could barely hear because of the ringing in my ears.
“More like a soundlock.”
There was still a rumbling sound. From overhead. I looked up at the thick pipe that passed through the room; the rumbling was coming from it.
“Try the other door?” Berkk asked.
“In a moment—when the jackhammer in my head goes away.”
The room was featureless. Nothing on the walls, just a light in the ceiling next to the pipe. And a track of dirty footprints leading from one door to the other. Ending in a floor mat. I kicked my boots clean on it.
“There must be something a little more civilized on the other side. Keeping their floor clean—”
I shut up as the wheel on the door in front of me began to turn.
“Behind the door!” I whispered as I plastered myself against the wall.
I could take care of one man all right. If there were more than one we were in trouble.
It opened wider. I crouched and raised my weapon. A metal foot and a metal leg appeared. I lowered the cosh as the robot
stepped in. It ignored us completely as it turned and sealed the door through which it had entered. I leaned forward and read the identification plate on the back of its shining skull.
“It's a compbot-707. Wonderful! It's little more than a meter reader with legs. Have you ever used one?”
Berkk nodded happily. “I ran a string of fifteen of them once, in an assembly plant that I managed. After they have been programmed they can do only what's in their memory. The thing has no idea that we are even here.”
We watched as it sealed the door, went over to the other door and opened it. We covered our ears as the sound blasted in, then died away as the door swung shut.
“Now let's see what's on the other side,” I said as I spun the inner wheel and opened the door a crack. A hall with no one in sight. I opened it wide, stepped through.
“Going to leave me here?” He sounded worried.
“Not for long. But we have to find out what we're getting into. Let me take a quick look.”
What I got into was a long, well-lit corridor with the rumbling pipe running the length of it, just below the ceiling. Doors opened off it, and there was another door at the far end—which might very well open at any time. I hurried to the first door I had seen, tried the handle, found it unlocked. Took a breath, readied the cosh—then opened it.
A storeroom, shelves and boxes—and perfect for our needs. I hurried back to Berkk.
“Let's get out of here. There's a storeroom we can get into.”
With this last door closed behind me I slid down and sat on the floor. Berkk did the same.
“What do we do next?” he asked eagerly, as though I knew all the answers. I wished I did.
“Rest. And plan. No, no plan. We can't do anything until we find where in hell—or Heaven—we are.” I shut up because I was getting light-headed. All the banging, crushing, crawling, bleeding, clotting had not done me any good. “You rest,” I said, clambering painfully to my feet. “I'm going to check out the other doors and find out what I can. Be right back.”
The first three rooms I looked into were spectacularly uninteresting. Cases of ball-bearing races, computer boards, miles of wire. Nothing that we could use, eat, or drink. But I hit the jackpot on the fourth, hurried back to get Berkk.
“All of the doors along the hallway open into storerooms—but I found one that is not only filled with bogey wheels but also has a medical emergency box. So not only can we clean up and get some dressings on—but some good person put a bottle of medicinal brandy in with the rest of the gear.”
We drank the drinking medicine before we went on to antiseptics and bandages. Considering what we had been through we had gotten off lightly. Cleansed and purified—and half-sloshed—I thought of the future.
“Rest, sleep if you can,” I said. “I'm going to take a reccy.”
“What's that? Is it a pill?”
“No, you civilian, it's a military term left over from my army career. Short for reconnoiter. I'll try not to take any chances and will be back as soon as I can. One person can do this far better than two, so don't argue.”
He didn't. “Good luck,” he said.
“I don't believe in it. I make my own luck,” I bragged. To lift his morale—or my own. I left.
The door at the end of the corridor opened into a very large open-plan room. The thick pipe carried on across to the center of the room where it made a bend and vanished down through the floor. I didn't like this room. I kept my eye to the crack for a long time. There were workbenches in there, with chairs before them. And chairs meant people. Instrument consoles glittered with lights and in the distance there was the sound of running motors. If it was empty for now—how long would it stay empty?
The waiting didn't help because nothing stirred, no one came. Muttering darkly I finally opened the door wide and slipped through. Slinked along between the workbenches, trying to look over my shoulder and in every direction at the same time. Through swinging doors and into an even bigger and brightly lit room. Still no one—though I found this hard to believe.
I crept on, wondering how long my luck was going to hold out. I passed a door with a round window set into it, looked in carefully before going by. And swallowed.
A food and drink dispenser—it could be nothing else.
I was through it, the door closed behind me, and punching the button for drink. Caffeine-aide—exactly what I wanted, needed.
Paradisical … I drained two cups in a row before I slowed down. Triggered the controls that slipped a frozen catwich and a dogburger into the microwave while I sipped. I glanced out occasionally, but my heart wasn't in it. Food and drink first, more reccy later. I felt a slight twinge of sympathy for Berkk, but food washed it away. He was sleeping and resting and I would bring some of this back for him, or take him to it.
Stomach rounded, swishing inside as I walked, I decided to see what was around just one more bend before I returned.
Around the bend was something new. A stairwell leading down between rough concrete walls. And I remembered that the pipe with its contents of ground rock had gone down through the floor. Which meant its destination might be down here. Should I look? Why not? My stomach was full, caffeine was coursing through my blood—and I was very, very curious.
I went down the steps into a wide corridor that stretched away in both directions. There was a thick tubular thing hanging in the middle of it, running in both directions as well. It was made of polished metal and was much bigger than the ground-rock pipe we had been following. The corridor walls were even rougher, with rock shapes under the plastering. It had been drilled and dug out of the solid rock. Heavy electrical cables hung in festoons and electronic gear was mounted on the metal tube. I could make no sense of it. I walked along it a bit and realized that tunnel and pipe were both curved. A steady, long curve that remained the same. I walked on and the curve, the radius, never changed. If it stayed like this it would eventually form an immense circle and I would be back where I started. A circular tunnel with a circular pipe in the middle of it. It seemed familiar and—
BOOK: The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell
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