Sybelline was incredulous. «A common Gnoman down here? I do not believe it. They would not dare it. Not one alone.»
«I know what I saw.» Blade waved his torch and shouted. «You out there! Give sign of yourself. We will help you.»
A faint cry came from the darkness. «Sybelline! I am hurt. Aid me.»
Blade watched her and did not think she was acting. She gasped in amazement. «Wilf! My son. I do not understand this-«
Sart stopped shaking long enough to say, «It could be a trick of Jantor's, master.»
«A strange trick,» said Blade, «to send one wounded man against me. Come on.» He strode into the darkness.
Wilf lay in a pool of blood. Sybelline held a torch while Blade examined him. He was badly bitten, mostly on the legs, and some of the wounds were deep. At the moment he was unconscious, but Blade thought he would survive. He bade Sart pick up the wounded man and carry him back to the bunker.
Sart grumbled and complained of his own wound but he obeyed. Blade and Sybelline followed him. The woman was silent.
«I accept your surprise,» said Blade at last. «But I must know of this. You say he is your son?»
She shrugged. «One of them. My favorite. I have many sons and daughters among the Gnomen. I do not know what has become of them.»
Blade guessed at what she meant by favorite. He knew the Gnomen attitude toward incest. They did not recognize it nor did he mention it now.
He said, «I find it most strange that he would suddenly appear in this place.»
Sybelline shrugged again. «So do I. I have no understanding of this, nor of Wilf, for that matter. He is only a quarter Morphi, you know, and not of great intelligence. He has always been secretive and keeps his thoughts to himself.»
«We will see about his intelligence. One thing I know-the Morphi, even you who are half Morphi, all make the same mistake. You consistently underestimate the intelligence of some of the Gnomen-perhaps all of them. It is my thought that the native intelligence is there, but has never been allowed to develop.»
He saw her look and forgot it. She was incapable of understanding.
Wilf was placed on the table in the bunker. Blade found a kit and tended the wounds. He used ointments and powders and bound the raw sores with plastic bandages. As he finished, he was aware that Wilf was feining unconsciousness. He smiled down at him and slapped his face lightly. Blade had the beginnings of a plan and if the lad was intelligent enough….
«You do not fool me,» he told Wilf. «I know you listen and understand. Open your eyes and explain how you came here.»
Sart was once again on guard in the door. Sybelline held a torch and peered down at her son. Wilf opened his eyes and stared at his mother sullenly. Sybelline was just as sullen when she spoke to him.
«This is the man Blade, Wilf. You will do well to answer him. How came you here, and why?»
Wilf scowled. He held up a bandaged arm, then stared down at his bitten legs. «The mole rats nearly killed me. I lost my spear bar.»
Blade knew one thing. Wilf had courage. Blade made his voice friendly. «You did not come down the chute?»
Wilf looked at Blade a long time before answering. Suddenly he smiled. He ignored his mother and smiled and Blade saw what he had seen so often in Dimension X-awe, hero worship and a willingness to serve. He could use such things. Wilf could not have come at a better time.
«No,» said Wilf. «I did not come by the chute, though I know of it.»
«How much do you know of it?» Sybelline's tone spoke her emotions. She was not pleased with her son.
Blade glared. «Do not interrupt.»
«I can read Morphi script,» said Wilf. «I go up into the city any time it pleases me. For long I have done this. I have explored, Mother. I have followed you and you never knew. I have studied the Moon and the orbfolk through telescopes. I have watched and listened when you spoke to Onta, the Selene. I-«
Blade put a hand over his mouth. «Enough.» He looked at Sybelline. She did not meet his eye.
«I have no interest in any of that,» said Blade. «How came you here, if not by the chute?»
Wilf laughed, eager to talk to Blade. «I found old drawings in the rock mine files. There are passages that lead down past the pits-«
Sart groaned from the door. «The five mile pits!»
Blade silenced him. «Go on, Wilf.»
«As I saw, I found old drawings. They marked out passages that have been long forgotten. With the aid of such a map I was able to find my way down here. It was easy enough at first. It led me down past the pits-they are all dead there now-and I found a ramp that leads directly into this place. All went well until the mole rats attacked me.»
Blade nodded. «You have such a map with you?»
Wilf was wearing the plastic shorts of the Morphi. He reached into a pocket and drew out a folded square of plastic, tattered and stained. Blade took it from him. He did not examine it but tapped it with a finger and looked at Sybelline. «What other way is there back to the city level?»
Sybelline shrugged. «Without the power for the lifts there is only one-an escape ladder. I know where it is. In my time I have never known of anyone using it. But I have read that back in other times the young Morphi, the athletes, contested each other to see who could climb it in the shortest time.»
Blade pondered that, calculating. They were about six miles deep. He was not going to climb any such ladder if he could help it. He doubted his ability to do so. The heat was telling on him and his sweat never stopped dripping.
«The ladder ends in a sub-1 basement of the Government Building,» said Sybelline.
That settled it. By now the circular building would be alive with Jantor's men.
He began to question Wilf about Jantor. All that Wilf could tell him was that Jantor was moving his troops up into the city. He was taking over and defying the orbfolk. Women and children remained in the sewers until the issue was settled one way or the other.
Wilf gave Blade a sly look and said, «I have something else to tell you, but it is for your ears only.»
Blade nodded at Sybelline. «Go stand with Sart. Both of you out of hearing.»
She crossed her arms over her firm breasts and scowled. «I will not. You plan to betray me with my own son.»
Blade jerked a thumb at the door. «Go, I say. If there is betrayal it will not be on my part.»
She left them reluctantly. Blade bent to hear Wilf's whisper. «It is said that Jantor has had second thoughts. He knows now that it was Sart who murdered Alixe, not you. A guard has remembered hearing screams while you were absent. Jantor wishes to parley and again be friends, if you will turn over Sart to him for punishment.»
Blade stroked his beard. «That poor fool. I could not-«
«And Sybelline,» said Wilf. «Jantor wishes to destroy her also.»
Blade stared down at him. «She is your mother.»
Wilf shrugged. «What of that? Anyway I propose nothing. I merely say what I have heard. And there is more.»
Blade waited, his face grim. Wilf hurried on. «I also heard that more than a hundred of the Gnomen females have missed their bloody time. All have lain with you.»
And Wilf added, slyly, «This may have some bearing on matters, I think. It is why Jantor is willing to be reasonable.»
Blade felt no thrill of fatherhood. A hundred pregnant women spoke well of his performance as a man; it did nothing for his ego, the impact diminished by the numbers involved. And yet the boy was right Jantor was thinking now that Blade was proven a baby-maker; it would be folly to kill him. Jantor could not rebuild the Gnomen race alone. There was only Blade.