Chapter 12: Escape?

"Oh, Pete!" Nancy was hugging him, laughing and crying at the same time. "I almost died when they started shooting at you!"

"Yeah, I wasn't too happy about it myself." Pete smiled down at her jubilantly, then kissed her soundly. "Anyhow, they missed. The last few miles were pretty hairy, though. What's been going on here, and are you all right?"

"We're all just fine. We didn't have a bit of trouble on the way here, except for meeting a few patrols. We hid in the truck, and Markoth talked his way past them without any trouble. Amy has been working day and night on her signaler. We've been doing all that we can to help her, but there isn't that much that we can do."

"Why all the rush? We ran out of food, yesterday, but you should still have enough here to last us another week."

"That's right, you haven't heard. KeeBar and Thanna have been scouting for Vult out in the Great Swamp, spying on Pleorran's army. They say that it's about ready to move. He's gathered almost a thousand warriors together, and this is the only way they can go without losing a whole lot of time. They'll have to fight their way past the fort, and we don't have anywhere near enough men and guns to stop them, and we can't get any help because the Council of Planners is sure we're on Pleorran's side and that we're trying to draw off their troops so that Pleorran can attack from the north, and..."

"Easy there, darling," Pete interrupted her. "Calm down, and take a deep breath. We'll figure out something. We haven't come this far, just to let a little thing like a threecornered war stop us."

Looking around, he saw that Lyssa and Charley were tending to a stillgroggy Steve, while Dan looked on, frowning. Off to one side, Dron was talking with his secondincommand, Vult.

"Where's Amy?"

"I guess she's still in her workshop. Come on, and I'll show you where it is."

She led him along the winding corridors, and down ramps to a vaulted cellar. Amy's golden hair was bent over a complex mass of plates and coils. She looked up at them, and he was struck by her drawn face and bloodshot eyes.

"Pete! I'm glad you made it. We're about out of iron, and I'm nowhere near done with this thing. Oh, did the rest of you make it? Lyssa and Dron?"

"We all made it, even Steve. For crying out loud, what have you been doing to yourself? You look like you haven't slept for a week!"

"I guess I haven't," she confessed, wearily. "I've got to finish this thing, if we're to get out of here alive."

"We'll never make it, if you kill yourself off by working thirtytwo hour days. How much longer will this thing take to build?"

"Now that we have the rest of the metal, only three or four more days. The transdimensional part of it is easy enough. In fact, that part's about done. Now, I have to build a sparkgap transmitter, and a way to key my output. The spark coil, and the other coils and condensers, are hard to build without enough iron to work with." She picked up her tools, turning back to the workbench, but Pete reached out and took them from her hands.

"A few hours of sleep won't set us back very far," he told her, firmly. "You'll probably more than make up for it, by working more efficiently when you're rested. You're going to bed, if I have to carry you there myself."

"All right. I am kind of tired." She pushed back her stool and stood up, only to sway dizzily. Pete caught her as she fell, then looked questioningly at Nancy.

"This way." She led the way to a nearby room. He laid Amy on a mat, tucking a blanket around her.

"There, she'll feel better after she's slept a while. What else has been happening while we've been gone?"

"Nothing much, really. Like I said, we didn't have any trouble getting here. Ever since then, Amy and Markoth have been working on the signaler. His assistant, that Zallin, has been helping them, but he's almost more trouble than help. He's always arguing about the theory behind things. I don't think that he really believes we're from another dimension. He's convinced that we came here in a flying saucer, or something. He keeps wanting to know where our spaceship is."

The next morning, Dron called them all together for a conference. Amy was rested, but annoyed with herself for sleeping the whole night through.

"I've lost us so much time," she complained. "Sixteen whole hours, just gone!"

"That's nonsense, and you know it," Pete told her brusquely. "You were dead for sleep. I'll bet that when you get back to work, you'll see a dozen things that you can do to speed things up."

"I suppose so. I did figure out one thing that I hadn't been able to solve. I woke up this morning, and it just seemed to pop into my head."

"Let's hope that your other problems solve themselves as easily," he told her, smiling. "But, I want you to get your sleep from now on." He broke off as Dron started to speak.

"You've all heard about how we got here, and we've been brought up to date on what happened while we were gone. KeeBar and Thanna brought word two days ago that Pleorran's army will be here some time in the next few days. They've gone back to find out more, and should be back soon. The Planners' soldiers are convinced that Pleorran is in hiding somewhere to the north, and there's nothing we can do right now to change their minds. We are caught in the middle, and unless we can do something about it, this could be the end for all of us. I can see no way out, unless Amy can complete her device and bring help in time."

"I don't know how much longer it will take me to finish my signaler," Amy told him. "Certainly not less than four or five days.

"Can't we make a run for it?" Steve asked.

"Where to?" Dron countered. "You saw how the soldiers acted toward us. They would never let us stay in one place long enough to finish your machine, even if you had enough food left."

A few more suggestions were brought forth, mostly having to do with defending the fort. After discussing them, the meeting had dwindled down to a few separate conversations when an aide rapped on the door of Dron's office.

"KeeBar has returned, sir."

KeeBar hurried into the room, hard on the aide's heels. "The tribes! They come now! Will be here late tomorrow. Have big tree trunks to knock down gates, things to throw stones at walls from long way off."

"We can't hold out long against that kind of an attack," Dron admitted. "This fort wasn't built for it, just to repulse Chosen Ones with spears. But, I don't see any way out. At least, it's been interesting around here lately. For a while, I thought that if I died here it would be from sheer boredom."

"Amy!" Pete jumped to his feet as an idea struck him. "You said that the transdimensional part of your machine was about done. All that was left is the signaling part?"

"Why... why, yes," she answered. "What of it?"

"How hard would it be to change your machine into a portal? One big enough for Dron and his men to escape through with us?" He leaned across the table, excitedly. "It wouldn't have to be strong enough to reach all the way back to Earth, just far enough to reach any other world."

"That's it! Now, why didn't I think of that? I can do it in a day or so. It'll take every scrap of iron we can put together, but we can do it!"

They crowded through the broad doorway, and down the corridors to Amy's work room. Markoth was already there with Zallin.

"What's the matter?" he asked as they hurried in. "Are we being attacked already?"

"No, but we will be within a day," Dron replied. "Amy is going to turn this machine into an escape hatch for us. There isn't time to build a signaler."

Markoth was enthusiastic about the plan when it had been explained to him more fully, but Zallin still muttered something about 'other planets' under his breath. Two of Dron's men pumped the bellows of a crude forge, and under their hammers every bit of iron they owned was reduced to rods, bars, and plates to be fitted into Amy's project. It was just at dusk when a runner burst into the room.

"They're coming, your Excellency! The tribesmen from the Great Swamp are coming up the trail in countless numbers. Their torches light up the whole canyon!"

"Tell Vult to invite them to parley. We need all of the time that we can get."

"Will they attack as soon as they get here?" Pete asked.

"Not very likely. They will almost certainly wait until the sun is up, and it is warmer outside. Anyway, Pleorran will want to boast to us, let us know who is responsible for our deaths." He shook his heavy head grimly. "How much more is there to do here?"

"Only a little more," Amy told him, raising her head from her work and bushing back an errant lock of hair from her eyes. "A few more turns of wire, and some connections, and we'll be done. Then, we can test it."

Zallin still looked doubtful, studying the roughly elliptical framework of rods and coils that half leaned, half hung on one wall of the room.

"We had all better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Pete commanded, looking around to see that everything was in order. "Say, where's Steve and Dan?"

"I dunno," Charley looked around. "They was here a little bit ago. Steve said something about going over to the jail to talk some more to Klul. He's been trying to find out more about Pleorran's plans for Dron. I guess Dan must of followed him."

Dron snapped a command to one of his men, who hurried out. In a few short minutes, he came panting back.

"Your Excellency! The prisoner has escaped! The guards are dead, and the cell door is standing open."

Dron charged out of the room, the others right on his heels, except for Amy, who scarcely even glanced up from her work. They ran along sloping corridors that led farther down into the rock beneath the fort. Guttering torches gave light that was dim to human eyes, but Dron could see the bodies of two of his men sprawled in front of the partly open door. He checked the bodies briefly.

"Dead! Some kind of quickacting poison. They never knew what hit them." He indicated tiny vaned darts that hung from the soft flesh of their throats.

Seizing a torch from a wall bracket, he tossed it into the cell. It died down, then flared anew as its flames caught the moss of the bedding. He pushed the door open cautiously, then more boldly as he saw nothing that looked dangerous.

"Klul's gone, all right, but here's one of your friends."

Dan's body lay crumpled on the floor of the cell. Pete found a weak pulse that grew fainter, and stopped. Dan's chest heaved once, and was still. Dron picked up the torch, thrusting it into a wall sconce. By its light, Pete saw another of the tiny darts caught in a fold of Dan's shirt sleeve. He pulled it out, noticing that the skin of Dan's arm was unbroken, then checked him over hurriedly.

"He's dead." Pete laid the still body back down on the strawcovered floor of the cell. "Massive head injuries. When the dart didn't get him, Vult must have thrown him against the wall. Didn't even stop to finish him off, just left him."

"He will be treated as one of our fallen warriors," Dron promised. "His body burned, and the ashes strewn to the winds. Unless this conflicts with your customs."

"He would have liked that," Nancy told them. "We talked a lot, while Amy was working on her signaler. He has no family, back on Earth. But, what about Steve?"

"I'll have the cellars of the fort searched," Dron answered her. "Just in case Vult and his friends haven't managed to leave our walls. I would guess that they are outside by now, joining Pleorran and his army."

"There's nothing else we can do, except hope that Steve is still alive," Pete agreed. "Whoever broke Vult out of his cell must have taken him along, willingly or not. He's been saying some funny things, lately. Talking about Pleorran like he was still the rightful ruler of Thant. We'll just have to wait and see if he turns up."

They made their way slowly back to the main level of the fort. Vult was waiting for them in Dron's office.

"Your Excellency. Pleorran's messenger is outside the gate. He demands that you speak to him."

"I'll go see what he has to say. Pete, you come along, but stay out of sight. They surely know about you by this time, but there's no need to remind them if we don't have to."

Another ramp brought them to a heavily shuttered window that faced toward the south. Dron swung open the shutters, and stepped out onto a balcony.

"I am here. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"His Highness, the Emperor Pleorran, rightful ruler of all of the Land of Thant, calls upon you to surrender." The Emperor's herald was a tall Thantan with a regal bearing, gaily decked out in a colorful uniform. "He calls for you to lay down your arms, allowing his army to pass unhindered. If you do this, pledging fealty to him as in days of old, you will be given honored positions in his empire. If you fail to heed his orders, your puny fort will be crushed into the dirt. Your bones will molder beneath it, unremembered by the living or the dead."

"Tell your 'Emperor' that his empire is no more. The people of Thant spurn his memory. He ruled so badly, imprisoning so many of his subjects and grinding others into abject poverty, that they even put up with that ridiculous Council of Planners, just to be rid of him. This fort was placed here to keep the tribes of the Great Swamp from leaving their homes and invading Thant. The fact that they are now led by a fat old maniac does nothing to change this. Tell Pleorran, if you dare, that Dron of Dronnta spits in his face. Tell him that the maggots will clean out his agerotted skull if he tries to attack us here."

With this parting shot, he stepped back inside and slammed the heavy shutters into place, closing out the yells of fury that arose from the besieging army.

"That should keep his attention fixed on us here." Dron exposed his fangs in a savage grin. "He won't rest until we are all dead, and this fort is in ruins. Otherwise, he could have left a small force here to pin us down, while he went on with the rest of his army."

"Yeah, I wondered why you laid it on so thick."

"It may cut us shorter on time, but I'm afraid that delaying Pleorran is more important right now than all of our lives. KeeBar tells me that another storm like the one that wrecked you is on its way. If we can keep Pleorran here long enough, he could really be in trouble. This canyon is no place to be caught out in when one of those storms strikes."

Back in the work room, they found Amy the center of everyone's attention as she hurried to finish her work. Markoth and Zallin immersed plates of dissimilar metals in acidfilled cases of coated wood, the batteries that would furnish power to her device. She carefully made the last few connections among a tangle of wires, straightening up with a tired sigh.

"That's it," she breathed. "Now, to try it out."

At her command, the clumsy homemade batteries were hooked up. She began closing switches. Suddenly, there was a 'SPLAT', and she hastily slapped open the main switch.

"Just a poor soldering job," she apologized, quickly repairing the break. "I was in too much of a hurry."

Closing the main switch again, she smiled to herself as the wiring took the load. Another switch was closed, and a humming sound arose from somewhere within the mechanism. It rose in pitch, growing fainter, as she carefully adjusted crudely fashioned knobs. Slowly, a ruddy glow appeared around the oval framework that hung from one wall, brightening and paling to a cold blue haze. It gradually filled the area within the framework, hiding the rough stone of the wall.

"There, that establishes the portal. Now, to see what we can find."

She turned another knob the tiniest amount. An almost invisibly small dot of purest black appeared in the midst of the blue haze. Pete became aware of a shrill whistle that wavered on the very edge of inaudibility. A tendril of smoke from one of the room's many candles swirled toward the portal, and Amy turned the knob back to zero.

"That setting opens out into a vacuum. Most of them will. We'll just have to keep trying, until we find one that doesn't."

She changed the setting of one knob on the board in front of her, and tried again. And again. Zallin stirred restlessly, and seemed about to make some kind of a disparaging remark, when instead of a black spot, a dot of deepest blue appeared. A lowpitched whistle told of lower pressure on the far side of the portal.

Amy cautiously enlarged the size of the opening. The spot of blue dilated to perhaps a foot across. They glimpsed an azure landscape, seemingly far below them, and tilted at a crazy angle. She carefully adjusted other knobs, and the view swung around to a more normal orientation, their viewpoint dropping nearer to ground level. The rush of air into the portal dropped to a low sigh as pressures nearly equalized, and she stopped the portal's motion at what looked to be just about eye level.