He reviewed his entire movement, from the Hellgames to his present situation, from the place where it had all started to this point in his current journey ...
. .. And always his thoughts returned to Morningstar on Panicus, his only friend ...
Why were they friends? What had they in common? Nothing that he could think of. Yet he felt an affection for the enigmatic being which he had never felt for another creature; and he felt that Morningstar, for some unknown reason, also cared for him... . And it was Morningstar who had recommended this journey as the only means to accomplish what must be done ...
Then he thought of the conditions which prevailed on the darkside of the world; and he realized that he. Jack, was not merely the only one capable of making the journey, but also was largely responsible for the state of affairs which required the journey. It was not, however, a sense of duty or responsibility that motivated him. Rather, it was one of self-preservation. If the darkside died in the freezing All-winter, he died with it; and there would be no resurrection... . And always his thoughts returned to the towering figure of Morningstar on top of Mount Panicus...
The shudder that shook him then almost made him release the horns of the horrid creature he rode. The resemblance! The resemblance ...
But no, he thought. This creature is but a dwarf compared to Morningstar, who towers in the heavens. This thing hides its face, where Morningstar is nobly featured. This beast stinks, while Morningstar smells of the clean winds and rains of the heights. Morningstar is wise and kind, and this thing is stupid and wills but malice. It is but an accident that both are winged and horned. This creature may be bound by a magician's spell, and who could bind Morningstar... ?
Who indeed? he wondered. For is he not bound, though in a different fashion, as surely as I have bound this beast?-But it would take the gods themselves to do such a thing ...
... And he pondered this and dismissed it.
It does not matter, he finally decided. He is my friend. I could ask this demon if he knows of him, but his reply would make no difference. Morningstar is my friend.
Then the world began to darken about him, and he tightened his grip for fear that he was growing faint. But as they swooped lower and the darkness deepened, he knew that they were nearing the edge of the realm.
Finally, the creature he rode alit. His sweet voice sang out:
"This far may I bear you, master, and no farther. That black stone before you marks the end of the realm of darkness visible. I may not pass it."
Jack passed beyond the black stone, and the blackness there was absolute.
Turning, he said, "Very well, then. I release you from my service, charging only that should we ever meet again, you will not attempt to harm me and shall serve my will as you have on this occasion. I bid you depart now. Go! You are sent forth!"
Then he moved away from that realm, knowing he was near to his goal.
He knew this because of the faint trembling of the ground beneath his feet. There was a barely perceptible vibration in the air, as of the hum of distant machinery.
He moved forward, meditating on his task. In a short while, magic would be ineffectual, the Key itself useless. But the black area through which he now proceeded should be empty of menace. It was simply the blackness that lay before the place. He caused a small light to occur intermittently, that his feet might be guided. He needed no guidance for direction; he had only to follow the sound and feel it strengthening... . And as it strengthened, his ability to produce the guide light weakened and finally failed.
So he moved more carefully, not missing the tiny light too much because a pinpoint of light was now visible in the distance.
12
AS THE LIGHT grew in size, the humming and the vibrations increased in intensity. Finally, there was sufficient illumination for him to discern his course. After a time, the brightness was so intense that he cursed at having forgotten to bring his ancient sunglasses with him.
The brightness resolved itself into a square of light. He lay on his belly and looked at the light for a long period of time, allowing his eyes to make an adjustment. He repeated this many painful times as he advanced.
The floor of the place had become smooth beneath him; the air was cool but pleasant, and free of the odors which had prevailed in the region he had recently departed.
He moved until it was immediately before him. There was nothing but the light. It was a gigantic opening onto something, but all that he could see was the yellow-white blaze; he heard a grinding, clanking and humming, as of many machines.
... Or the Great Machine.
Again, he lay prone. He crawled forward through the opening. He lay upon a ledge, and for a moment his mind could not assimilate all that was below.
It had so many gears that it would have been an interminable task to number them, some turning slowly, some rapidly, big unto small; and there were cams, drive shafts, and pulleys and pendulums-some of the pendulums twenty times his own height and slow, ponderous-and pistons and things that corkscrewed in and out of black metal sockets; and there were condensers, transformers and rectifiers; there were great blue-metal banks containing dials, switches, buttons and little lights of many colors, which constantly blinked on and off; there was the steady noise, a hum, of still further buried generators- or perhaps they were something else, possibly drawing power from the planet itself, its heat, its gravitational field, certain hidden stresses-which buzzed in his ears like a swarm of insects; there was the blue smell of ozone, reaching everywhere. There was the brilliant light coming from all the walls of the enormous cavern which housed the equipment; there was a battery of buckets which moved on guidelines above the entire complex, occasionally pausing in their courses to dump lubricants at various points; there were power cables, like snakes, that wound from one point to another, indicating nothing he could understand; there were tiny, glass-enclosed boxes, connected with the whole by means of thin wires, which contained components so minute that he could not discern their forms from where he lay. There were no fewer than a hundred elevator-type mechanisms, which constantly plunged into the depths or vanished overhead, and which paused at various levels of the machine to extrude mechanical appurtenances into portions of its mechanism; there were wide red bands of light on the farthest wall, and they flicked on and off; and his mind could not encompass all that he saw, felt, smelled and heard-though he knew that he must deal with it somehow-so that he searched for a clue for the best point of impact, seeking within that massive structure for that which would destroy it. He found titanic tools hung upon the walls, tools which could only have been wielded by giants, to service the thing-wrenches; pliers, pry bars, things-that-turned-other-things-and he knew that among them lay the thing that he required, a thing which, if properly employed, could break the Great Machine.