"It is an engine like the one that took you prisoner before. There is a danger to you, Thorinn."
"So I see."
With grim haste, Thorinn was dipping the brush in the pitch-pot, dabbing a spot the size of his fingernail onto the sole of each shoe. He unfastened the cord from about his waist, then slung the box over his shoulder, leaped out again and drifted toward the floor. "Where do those doorways go?" he demanded.
"One of them goes to a shaft where rising clouds carry things upward. The other goes to a shaft where falling water carries things down."
Thorinn's good foot touched the floor, clung. He strained forward, tugging the bladder after him. Another step, then another. The great awkward bulk of the bladder was in motion now, but it prevented him from looking back to see how close the engine was.
Lurching from good foot to bad, Thorinn tugged the bladder onward. Now he could see that there were spidery arms on the tracks, shaped to grip the metal eggs. While he watched, another dripping egg emerged from one of the doorways, traveled rapidly away, and was gone. It was no good asking the box which doorway was which, for he knew it would lie. Then he saw that was the answer.
"Box," he said, "which is the shaft that goes up?"
"It is the one on the left, Thorinn."
With a humorless grin, Thorinn leaped for the metal track on the right. The bladder bobbed up beside him. Clinging like a fly to the metal, Thorinn drew the bladder in. The red dot, now a disk, was shockingly near. He settled the bladder on the track between two spidery arms, saw them close to hold it, and tumbled into the basket as the track began to move, first slowly, then with such speed that the air whistled past his cheeks. Ahead, the doorway was blocked by a silvery pink film; it broke as the bladder entered it, and the air was suddenly full of flying droplets of spray. Bladder, basket, Thorinn and all were whirled out and downward into a chaos of roaring water.
Go down, said the voice triumphantly in his head.
13
How Thorinn died and was brought to life again, but resented it.
...it was therefore decided to put the Monitor on command mode with instructions to take whatever action may be necessary to promote the welfare of any remnant of humanity that may survive. No sono reports from the upper regions have come through since the fighting began. Nearly the whole of Lozed is flamed out and uninhabitable. If any of us live through the next few days, we will return and again put the Monitor on slave mode. If not, the destiny of mankind is in its—I had almost said hands. May God have mercy on us.
In the first instant the battering force of the water had collapsed the bladder around him. Suspended helplessly in the dark torrent, he had fought until he could hold his breath no longer; then as the water filled his lungs the crumpled bladder had turned somehow into the coils of a serpent that wound around his chest, constricting it with a pain beyond pain. The serpent was still there, although he could not see it when he opened his eyes. He struggled uselessly. He was falling, but the curved wall of the room hung steady around him. Some crystal thing was withdrawing over his head. Metal tubes, arms, were moving away. The yellowish light came from panels in the wall. A white engine drifted into view from above; he could hear its faint hissing in the silence. White spidery arms came out of it, turned, dipped, closed around him gently at arms and thigh. He was too weak to resist. The arms retracted, turned as the room wheeled around him, placed him with his back against the long shaft of the engine that ended in a curved tube over his head. Soft coils snaked around him. The hiss came again, and he was moving upward through a round hole in the ceiling. He came out into a room that was like a quarter of a cheese, with one wall curved like the one below, the other two straight; ceiling and floor were flat. The coils withdrew; the arms gripped him again, turned him, gently pressed him against a flattened pole that stood in the corner. Other coils moved around him. The engine backed away with a hiss, descended through the hole in the floor and was gone. He was still falling, while the room fell around him. In a net bulging from the wall beside him he saw his possessions, the bundles, the talking box, his shoes and clothing. He looked down at himself, saw that he was naked.
"Box," he said. His voice was thin and hoarse.
"Here am I."
"What is this place? What happened?"
"This is a place at the bottom of the world. You went into the falling water and died. Engines brought you here."
"I'm alive," Thorinn muttered. "I didn't die."
"Engines made you alive again." The box said something more, but already Thorinn's eyes had closed and he was drifting away into another dream of serpents.
When he awoke the second time he was still in pain, but he was stronger. The unfamiliar room was just the same. "Box, I'm thirsty," he said.
"There is water in the engine on the wall."
Thorinn looked, and saw two segmented yellow ropes that hung outward like snakes from the white wall.
"One is for food, the other for water. The one on the right is for water." Thorinn reached, pulled the tube toward him, doubtfully put the gray end of it between his lips. Cool sweet water spurted into his mouth; he choked with surprise, then swallowed. When he let go, the tube went back partway into the wall and was still. A few droplets of water, perfect little balls, drifted in the air.
There were glowing panels in the curved wall facing him, like the ones in the room below, and under them were six crystals like the one in the box, but much larger. Two were twice the size of the others; each of these had a smaller one on either side. In the middle of the room were two yellow poles, about an ell and a half apart, with large blue beads on them at intervals. To his left there was an upright box taller than a man, and beside it, in the corner, a half partition. Otherwise the room was empty. The air was pleasantly warm, but had an odd scent.
He examined the coils that were holding him, found that they were two fat white bands of some unfamiliar material, one under his armpits and the other across his thighs. He tried to pull them loose without success, until he discovered that they were clasped together on one side. He tugged at the ends and they came free. He was drifting away from the pole; the room was massively and slowly turning. He managed to seize the pole as it came around and drew himself to it, but his legs floated upward.
"Box," he said, "where are we going?"
"We are not going anywhere."
Thorinn clung to the pole with arms and legs; the room steadied a little. "I mean," he said with strained patience, "how long must we go on falling?"
"We are not falling. This place is at the bottom of the world." The crystal lighted, and he saw a dark circle with a dot of light at the center. Yellow lines appeared, radiating from the center. "Here the weight of the world pulls us toward it from all directions at the same time, and so we cannot fall." Thorinn's head was beginning to ache. His face felt sweaty and cold. "Box, I'm going to be sick."
"It will be best if you go into the big box in the corner and put your feet on the floor." That was easier said than done, but Thorinn pushed himself away from the pole he was clinging to and succeeded in grasping one of the soft blue beads on the next pole. From there he could reach the tall box, which had two yellow handles. Clinging to one, he tugged at the other; the door opened. Inside were other handles.