Forn was right. That mountain of masonry was as big as a civic center. It wouldn’t support the mass of a floating factory, maybe, but it would stand against any mass of water this group could collect.
“All right. All right. We can’t lower the factory on them,” Perilack said. “What if we move it sideways? Something’s holding it here. What if we could set it loose? Let it slide away with the vampires all running after it. Wouldn’t they make great targets?”
Grieving Tube said, “She’s at least partly right. Something holds it here, some—” She went off into her own language, and so did Harpster. Vala turned back. Even the Ghouls might not be able to set a floating city adrift.
Harpster dropped back into the Tongue. “—like at the bottom of a bowl, a low spot in the realm of magnetic power. We could tow the floater out of it if we had enough power, but with two steam cruisers? Flup, I wish you people had never heard of Louis Wu.”
Statuary, lines of windows, a stage, a sculpted flow of water. “What’s missing?” Vala asked herself.
Grieving Tube heard. “Boss?”
Vala said, “Tell me what you see.”
The Ghoul woman obliged. “Offices. Public affairs, I bet. They put it all down here so they wouldn’t have to invite political entities topside. The stage is for speeches and conferences, but it’s a stage, too. This was a social center.”
Harpster said, “I’d like to see around the other side.”
“What do you think you’d find?” Vala asked.
“I think … a podium. This one’s for plays, it’s not really right for speeches, or music for that matter. I bet somebody got an award for the way he worked the fountain into it all. Think how beautiful it would be if we could clear the vampires out.”
“Got it,” Vala shouted. “Lights!”
The Ghouls’ eyes glowed at her.
“Lights! Plays, music, speeches, bureaus of this and that, award-winning sculpture?” Vampire song rose high at the sound of Valavirgillin’s shout, but her warriors were listening, too. “Nobody but a Ghoul would expect all that to be played in the dark! Warvia, Tegger must know where the lights are.”
Warvia was fully awake now. “He’d have turned them on.”
“Flup.”
“Boss, the switches might be down here.”
“Flup. That’d be nasty.”
Harpster said, “I see it.” He was pointing up. “Warvia, that group of statues right at the top? City Builder warriors three manheights tall. They’re all carrying spears …”
Vala could see vague hominid shapes up there, but nothing more. The ring of daylight didn’t reach that high.
“It’s just one great black spot to me,” Warvia said.
“They’re there,” Grieving Tube said. “That top one—”
“Bigger than the rest. Spear as thick as my leg, and it doesn’t have a point, it just goes right up into the roof. It’s a pipe for the power. Sorry, Boss.”
“Flup! Not water pipes? Of course not, they’ve got infinite water. All right. But we’ll search topside first because it’s easier. Get Tegger to show us what he found. Then look where he didn’t.”
Warvia refused to let them wake Tegger. “Boss, he showed you everything he knows!”
Harpster and Grieving Tube dropped out early. Nobody could expect Ghouls to guess where an alien hominid would put light switches!
The rest of the warriors spread through the city. Valavirgillin cut a sheet of Louis’s cloth, once a priceless secret, into strips and gave them away like confetti. They played with the boxes and switches Tegger had showed them, and presently had the city blazing to rival the cloudy daylight.
Thin strips of glittery gray ran from the glittery-gray rooftop patches, down the sides of buildings. Several of the party followed those lines to where they converged. When Twuk brought Valavirgillin to see, she found a hole near the city’s center that was as wide as a Ghoul’s leg. She stirred traces of dust she found inside, and sniffed her finger. She couldn’t be sure that it was ruined superconductor; but Vala didn’t doubt what they’d found.
She hated what had to come next, but there was no help for it. The channel could be two tens of manheights high. Vala cut all of her remaining sheets of Louis Wu’s cloth into strips, knotted them together, tied the resulting rope to a chunk of wall and lowered it into the hole until it went slack.
What was it touching, down there at the bottom of a statue’s spear haft? It might be an unbroken line of power. She’d done what she could. Now she used torn branches to move the top end of her toe to where all the channels of silver-gray joined. That patch was flat. There was nothing to tie her line to, but she could weight it with a block of rubble only three Grass Giants could lift.
The clouds darkened and presently sent forth a steady rain. The explorers bore what they could of that, then came trickling back to the dock area. Each looked into Ramp Street. The Grass Giants were the last to give up. The others told them what they’d found, but the Grass Giants had to look, too. The Shadow Nest remained in shadow.
Chapter 16
Web of Spies
A shadow crossed the light, falling on his closed eyelids. Tegger was just close enough to waking to enjoy the warmth, the relaxation, the sense of Warvia’s back against his chest and belly, the smell of her hair. If he let himself wake further, he’d be thinking of hunger.
Hunger. How was he to feed Warvia? The carrion birds had fled from noise and alcohol fumes and heroes. There were vampires—he shied from a sick memory—but what was here for carnivore Reds?
Drive the vampires away. Descend. Hunt.
In daylight all shadows were vertical. Night must have fallen, and these must be dockyard lights. Who would be moving past at night? Tegger opened his eyes.
Two furry backs moved in and out of the light, moved away down Rim Street.
Tegger slid away from Warvia. He found a blanket and covered her. Harpster and Grieving Tube were turning into Stair Street. Tegger followed, stalking.
Ghouls were a secretive bunch. They had the right to their secrets; but Reds were stalkers.
The Night People moved in a glare of artificial light. The rest of Vala’s crew had found switches Tegger missed. Night was their element, but tonight it was the Ghouls who were half blind. Would it bother them? Ghouls must depend a good deal on scent.
The houses along Stair Street were staggered. There was plenty of cover. Tegger hid behind solid masses, trees and walls, staying well back. Where were the Ghouls?
Coming out of a shattered window, softly complaining in their own speech. Tegger had found a whole family of skeletons in that house. Were the Ghouls sniffing out carrion? They’d find nothing but bones.
At the top of Stair Street they moved into the bubble-shaped banquet hall. Nothing for them there, either, Tegger remembered. He waited in an empty pool, his eyes just above the rim.
They came out, and continued up into shadow. The City’s apex, the chimney, was still dark. Would they climb it to view their domain? But as Tegger eeled up crooked Stair Street, he did not see shadows rising against the sky. He grew more cautious still.
The sound he heard then was loud. Metal was being tormented.
He climbed a ladder and peered over the top of a chemical storage tank, his shadow lost in a maze of pipes.
The Ghouls were at the base of the chimney. It was still too dark to see what they were doing. He heard brick being cut in rhythmic fashion, cut by a saw. He dropped from the ladder and began weaving closer.
It wasn’t food they were seeking. What, then? He edged from behind a radiator wall, and Grieving Tube took him by the wrist.
He most carefully didn’t reach for his sword. He whispered, “It’s Tegger.”