The Gnomen scouting party left the park and ran beneath the catwalk, shaking their spear bars and yowling insults. Sart would have hurled his bar down at them, but Blade prodded him on and said, «Keep it. You're going to need it.»
They reached the roof of the circular building. Blade watched the Gnomen below. They were battering at a door, trying to gain entrance. There was something strange about this, and suddenly it ticked over in his mind. It was the first locked door he had encountered in the city.
Sybelline led them to a hatchway in the center of the roof. It was bolted down. As she knelt to unfasten the bolts, Blade asked, «What is this place?»
She cast him a sly look. «The place of government. The Morphi councils, all those in power and who have responsibility for running the city, they meet here.»
Blade had an idea. He grinned at her. «And they now sleep here, is that it? The power was turned off while they were all here in consultation, discharging their civic duties? It was planned that way?»
Sybelline nodded. «It was. By order of the Selenes. I carried out the orders.»
Blade was not surprised. «I should have known»
«You know now. You see that I hold nothing back. I have cast my lot with yours. If we win, I will expect reward; if we fail, I will die with you.»
«Later,» he said. «All that later. Get this thing open.»
She lacked strength to draw the last bolt. Blade slammed it back with his spear bar. He threw open the hatch and stared into a shiny plastic hole. He turned on the woman. «What is this? You play tricks?»
It was a plastic tube, a chute similar to that used in Home Dimension for escape from aircraft. It was sleek and shiny and plunged into darkness at a 45-degree angle.
Sybelline smiled. «It is simple. A chute to the lower levels. Are you afraid, Blade?»
Sart was afraid. He stared at the gaping maw of the chute and wiped away sweat.
Blade said: «I am not afraid. But I am not a fool. You said the five mile level-in this thing? It will be like a free fall. Our speed-«
«I will go first,» said Sybelline. «Hurry. Fear nothing. There are braking fingers near the bottom and the landing will be soft and easy. Would I do it else?»
There was a crash from below as the door was battered in. The Gnomen would be on them in a few minutes. Jantor had made a decision. He was coming out of the sewers to fight. He was daring everything to come up into the city, to brave the orbfolk, in an effort to smash Blade and find the secret of the power for himself.
Sybelline was at the edge of the chute. Blade said, «Will they dare follow us down?»
She laughed. «Not the Gnomen. They all have courage and Jantor is cunning, even intelligent, but they will not risk the chute. We had better go now.»
Blade nodded. «Go then.»
Sybelline gathered her plastic skirt about her and gave a little leap. She landed on her bottom and flung her body backward with her arms trailing. As she disappeared she called out, «Slide in this manner. It is easier.»
She was gone. Blade crooked a finger at Sart. «You.»
Sart hung back. He began to whimper.
«Hold fast to your spear bar,» said Blade. He picked the slave up and hurled him head first into the chute. «Wrong end first,» he told the disappearing Sart, «but in your case no great matter.»
There was another trap door nearby. Sounds of battering came from beneath it. Blade stalked to it and pounded with his spear bar. «Gnomen! Listen to me. This is Blade who speaks.»
The noises ceased. A Gnoman voice growled in reply. «We know you, man Blade. What do you want?»
Blade glanced at the chute twenty paces away. He had plenty of time. «A parley,» he told them. «I would send a message to Jantor.»
Harsh laughter. The same voice said, «Who are you to ask for a parley? You who are as good as dead or in the pits. But I say this-surrender and come with us to Jantor and we will not harm you.»
Blade smiled to himself and said, «I do not like the sound of your invitation. But I would have a parley with Jantor later on. Answer me this-does he know of the child Alixe?»
«He knows, and he has sworn to slice off your baby-maker and choke you with it.»
Blade winced. Jantor was capable of it. He said: «Tell Jantor that I had no part in that. The slave, Sart, is guilty.»
«But you protect him and you are responsible for him under law. You know all this, man Blade.»
«Yes. I know. I could not prevent it. But I do not wish to speak of that now. Tell Jantor that I am after the secret of the power. I will get it. Tell him that if he bides his time-reins his anger-it will be to his advantage and to mine. I can be of great service to him and he to me. Bid him to think it out. His real danger is the Moon, not Blade, a woman and fifty bed-weakened guards. When I have the power, we can combine forces, and I will show him a way to defeat the orbfolk and take over the city for all time. Tell him that.»
Another Gnoman voice spoke. «We will tell him, man Blade. But there is something Jantor bids us to tell you.»
Blade gazed over the catwalk at the city roofs. Far off was another party of Gnomen hurrying toward him. He pounded once with his bar on the hatch. «Then tell me quickly. I cannot linger.»
Laughter. «You see our parties, then. Surrender, man Blade. You and that whore Sybelline are doomed. Jantor is coming out of the sewers at last.»
Blade tapped with his bar. «Jantor's message? Quickly or I go.»
The second voice said: «Jantor sends word of the girl Norn. He has her and she confesses love for you. Jantor asks if you have love for her? If this is true, if you do have love for her, you would perhaps spare her what Jantor has in mind.»
Blade kept an eye on the party of Gnomen. They were still distant enough for safety. «And what is that?»
He was told and Blade, hardened as he was, felt the sweat on him and his spine chill. And yet there was nothing he could do.
He rapped once again with his bar. «Tell Jantor to do as he likes. Norn is nothing to me. Tell him all I have said and that it is wiser to have me for a friend than an enemy. I go now. Later I will send word to Jantor.»
Silence. The battering began again. Blade ran lightly across the roof and leaped into the chute.
CHAPTER 12
The tube was spiral. By the time Blade had whipped around the third twist of the helix, doubling back and back again, he was sliding at over a hundred miles an hour and gaining speed with every passing second. He lay on his back, arms trailing, and let the tube devour him. The plastic was sleek and cold. There was no sense of burn or pain as he plunged ever faster. And it was totally dark. Surely, he thought, the black of the dreaded five-mile pits could not be worse than this.
The tube was steeper now and he was into a near vertical fall around the spiral. The Gs were piling up and he began to black out. He fought to retain consciousness and made himself fix on a thought to the exclusion of everything else.
Down and down the rushing slide continued and he hung on grimly to sanity and thought-what of Norn? Had he meant what he told the Gnomen? Norn loved him. So what? He owed her nothing. She was a liability, a nuisance. All true. What did he care for her? Nothing.
Blade had adapted now, he was more Gnoman than the Gnomen; he was savage and barbaric, the kill craze lurking just below his surface.
Faster and faster. The plastic screamed as he passed. His backside heated as he approached maximum speed. If Sybelline had tricked him, he was dead. Down into nothing he sped.