Ship of Dreams (18 page)

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Authors: Brian Lumley

BOOK: Ship of Dreams
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“Aye, I’ve tried her and she’s not working.”
The adventurers stared at each other for a moment, then turned to the men and women they had come to set free. And at last the tension broke and a babble of voices began asking questions of the liberators. Finally Hero was obliged to hold up his hands and demand silence. Then, to an audience that hung on his every word with bated breath, he rapidly told his tale of Zura’s plot: how with the morning her armada of black galleys would sail upon Serannian out of the east, and how then she hoped to see the sky-island fall out of the sky.
“And depending upon the success or otherwise of Chelos Smith’s other teams,” he finished, “that Princess of Death might yet have her way. As for us … stuck down here, as we seem to be for the moment, it’s difficult to see how we can be of any more assistance.”
“Oh, but we can!” One of the engineers started forward. “We can see to it that our engines work to their very limits, giving the sky-island as much lift as they can muster.”
“Also,” said another excitedly, “we can vent a little essence into the elevator and clean it out. Within an hour or so we should be able to get the hydraulics completely clear of that green filth.”
And a third said: “That’s the least we can do. If there’s a battle in the offing—and having seen the way
you two fight—why, it would be criminal not to make sure you have your share of the action!”
And without another word, with Hero and Eldin anxiously looking on but keeping well out of the way, the engineers began working flat out to put things back in order …
Swords of Serannian
Allain Merrinay was waiting with a full squad of pikemen at the top of the shaft when the elevator jerked to a heavily burdened halt. Then the door of the cage was thrown open and Hero, Eldin and their charges piled out into the terminus. Two of the engineers had volunteered to stay below and see the job through until relieved by the next oncoming shift, but everyone else was present.
When Merrinay saw them all it was as if a large portion of a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He congratulated the adventurers, said a few comforting words to the women, dismissed his guardsmen back to their stations atop Serannian’s walls and then led Hero and Eldin out into the fresh night air. The stars were still bright above the city, but even so the sky held that hazy luminosity which warns of dawn’s approach.
“What time is it?” asked Hero of Merrinay. His question said a great deal, for he was one to whom time generally had little meaning and was of even less interest.
“It’s almost four o’clock,” Merrinay answered. “Sunup in less than two hours. And if you’re right, that’s just
about when we can expect Zura to put in an appearance. Meanwhile, we have more immediate problems.” He led them to where bicycles leaned against a wall and they mounted up. “Follow me,” he said. “The Tilt is in our favor. It shouldn’t be, but it is.”
“That tremor we felt down under,” said Hero as he drew level with the councillor. “That was one of the engine rooms going out, eh? We guessed it was.”
“You guessed correctly,” said Merrinay. “Which accounts for the Tilt being out of kilter. It was one of the master plants. Engines wrecked, pipes and the flotation chambers they fed filled with Zura’s damnable green gas. The rescue was successful, however, and all the zombies were destroyed. We’ll repair the mess eventually, of course—providing we’re given the chance.”
As they freewheeled through Serannian’s streets, Eldin said, “But that’s only one engine room, surely? What of the others? How did the rest of our lads perform?”
“Superbly,” answered Merrinay, “with one exception. And that’s the one that matters. That’s where we’re going now. Chelos Smith is waiting for you there, along with your friends Gytherik Imniss and Captain Limnar Dass. Smith has a plan—the craziest scheme I ever heard of—but he seems to think that you two can pull it off.”
“Now wait a minute!” Eldin blurted. “Are you fellows never satisfied? Haven’t Hero and I done enough around here? I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” the councillor quickly cut him off. “And yes, you’ve done much more than we ever had the right to ask of you. But now—”
“Now it all hangs on us, eh?” said Hero.
Merrinay nodded. “That’s right. As I’ve said, one master engine room is out of commission and will take
days to repair. The other plants are back in our hands, with one exception. And that one just happens to be the biggest of them all. If it goes, then Serannian goes. Moreover, that’s where Kuranes is held hostage—the King, and three women with him.”
“What of the two men who went down?” Hero asked.
“A pair of fine, brave lads,” Merrinay answered, then fell silent.
“So what you’re saying,” Eldin gruffly pressed, “is that we have to get into this last engine room, deal with the zombies and rescue Kuranes—and all before dawn?”
Merrinay nodded.
“Why us?” Hero asked.
“Because you’re the best,” said Merrinay.
For a long moment no one spoke. Then Eldin said: “Damn right we are!” And that was that.
 
To the bemusement of the adventurers, Allain Merrinay led them right through Serannian’s nighted streets and almost to the harbor. They knew this area of the city and were doubly astonished when the councillor finally applied his brakes and dismounted outside the entrance to a certain establishment which they had used once before.
“The air-baths?” said Eldin with a frown.
Merrinay nodded. “I believe you’re familiar with them?”
“We’ve used them,” said Hero, “aye. Is this where we’re to meet Chelos Smith and the others?”
At that moment the doors opened a crack to issue a copious cloud of warm, scented mist, from which Limnar Dass stuck out his head to stare at them. The worried look disappeared from his damp face in an instant and he gave a whoop of delight. His head disappeared
and there came muffled shouting from within. Then the doors were thrown wide and Chelos Smith appeared, his hand outstretched in warm greeting.
Merrinay and the adventurers were ushered hastily into the reception room, where hurried hands began removing Hero’s and Eldin’s garments. The place was alive with pikemen, attendants, councillors and other dignitaries. Through the steaming vapors of an adjacent room, the adventurers were now and then able to catch glimpses of Gytherik where he stood talking soothingly to his gaunts; and seated on a bench was a trio of very handy-looking chaps, all naked except for belts and bandoliers of weaponry with which they seemed armed to the teeth.
While Hero and Eldin gazed mystified all about and as their disrobement continued, Chelos Smith explained what was happening. “These air-baths,” he said, “get their essence from the master engine room where Kuranes is held prisoner. At least we strongly suspect he’s there, for where else can he be? Anyway, doubtless Merrinay has already told you something of the problem. One of the master plants has been sabotaged, and if Zura’s zombies cripple this one—” he shrugged helplessly. “It will be all over.”
“But what are we doing here?” Eldin growled. “In the air-bath, I mean?”
“I’d say that this is our way in,” Hero hazarded. “The zombies must have put the elevator out of commission. Now they’re biding their time, waiting for the dawn and Zura’s coming before—”
“Before they pump their green gas into the sky-island’s main flotation chamber, yes,” Smith nodded.
“Our way in?” Eldin continued to frown. “I don’t follow.”
“Of course you do,” said Hero. “Since the essence
which supplies the air-baths is vented from the main engine room, we should be able to trace the duct back from—” He stopped abruptly and his eyebrows lowered in a black scowl.
“Now just hold on a minute!” He and Eldin were of one voice.
“It’s not as difficult as it sounds,” Smith hastily reassured the pair. “All you’ll have to do is fight—which is what you do best of all. As for the rest: that will be done for you. There are maintenance men here who know every inch of the entire labyrinth.”
“Labyrinth?” Hero was not reassured.
“Oh, yes. There’s a veritable maze of great pipes and tunnels down there,” said Smith. He gestured vaguely toward some indeterminate point underground.
“The more I hear of it, the less I like it,” Eldin muttered.
“And you’ll have three of the best swordsmen in Serannian right there behind you,” Smith hurriedly continued. He nodded to where the heavily beweaponed trio sat waiting on their bench. “If you’d been five more minutes they would have gone without you.”
“Well, that’s different,” said Eldin, beaming broadly. “I mean, let’s not keep these good fellows back any longer.” He cast about breezily with his eyes. “Just give us back our clothes and we—”
“Eldin,” said Hero sternly, “you’re wasting time!” And ignoring the groans of protest from his burly companion he turned back to Smith. “In for a penny, in for a tond,” he said. “We’re ready when you are. Just tell us what to do.”
“Do?” Smith repeated. “Why, you simply follow the instructions of the maintenance engineer, that’s all! My friends, after this you’ll be heroes!”
“We already are,” said Eldin. “What you mean is we’ll be dead heroes, right?”
“Serannian will fall to her knees before you,” Smith enthused, pretending he hadn’t heard Eldin’s remark.
“Or right out of the sky on top of us,” added Hero darkly. “All right, councillor, you’ve made your point. Now let’s be at it before we change our minds.”
Smith called over a near-naked technician and introduced him, then gave a thumbs-up sign to the three fighting men on the bench. They stood up and joined the group, making rapid introductions. “Right,” said the technician, a maintenance engineer whose job it was to tend the air-bath’s flotation systems, “follow me.”
He briskly led them through an arched doorway into the bathing area proper; that great misty hall with its huge, moisture-slick table of stone, festooned with safety-chains. This time, however, the adventurers were offered neither belts nor chains but led around the vast depression of the bath and into a private cubicle which bore this clearly marked legend upon its door:
KEEP OUT!
MAINTENANCE
ONLY
“The public aren’t allowed in here,” their guide explained. He pointed to a blue-tiled, seething well of vapor in the middle of the floor. “A man could fall down there and never find his way out again!”
“Oh?” said Eldin, directing his most powerful glare at Hero. “How very interesting.”
“But you needn’t concern yourselves about that,” the man continued. “I’ve already seen to it that you won’t get lost. You see this?” He tugged at a rope whose end was tied in a great loop about the neck of the well. “All
you do is follow me along the rope. You won’t see a lot because it’s pretty dense and there are no lights. But there again we don’t need lights. Just breathe easy and you’ll be fine. If you feel like you’re choking, don’t worry about it. It’s all in the mind.”
• “Oh, goody!” said Hero, feeling his throat tightening even as he considered it.
“No lights!” said Eldin. “I don’t much fancy that.”
“Oh, there is one light,” said the maintenance man, “but that’s at the sharp end. I’ve already put it in position so that you’ll be able to see what you’re doing before you burst in on them. Also to give your eyes a chance to get accustomed. Otherwise, emerging from the duct into the brightness of the engine room, you’d be blinded.”
“That’s all we’d need,” Eldin grunted. “Blind as bats in G-strings and sword-belts. Ye gods!”
“That’s it,” the maintenance man chuckled. “Grin and bare it, eh?
Bare
it, get it?” Still chuckling he sat on the tiled wall of the well, swung his legs into the swirling vapors, turned his head and said, “Just follow on behind me, right? After you submerge, you’ll find it easier if you go headfirst. You’re weightless anyway so it doesn’t really matter which end is up, if you see what I mean.” And he ducked beneath the bubbling surface.
“Let’s go,” said Hero, and needlessly holding his breath, he followed on behind their guide.
Eldin took a last look about the cubicle and his glance met the steady gaze of the three swordsmen where they waited for him to make his move. “Well?” he said. “What are we waiting for?” He kissed the hilt of his sword for luck, slid the weapon firmly home in its sheath, swung his legs into the vapor and bumped from view—
—And from then on it was hand over hand through
swirling pea-soup, with the feet of the man in front just visible and nothing more, and only the distant throb of engines to match the rapid pulse of adrenalin-enriched bloody.
The journey on the rope took all of an hour, some of it straight down and some of it along, around and even up. By the time they were at the end of it, the five who followed the maintenance man could not have said for sure which way was where. But of a sudden they were piling into each other and their guide loomed out of the tinted mist, his finger to his lips.
They were in a great pipe or duct all of five feet in diameter, and at this particular spot a glowstone lamp was fixed to the wall, its tired beam illuminating a hinged manhole about two feet across. Quietly, his voice barely discernible above the throb of the engines, the maintenance man began to speak:
“As you can see, the manhole’s clamps are on the inside. That’s so the manhole can’t be opened accidentally from outside. If the engine room got flooded with flotation essence, there would be chaos in there. There
will
be chaos the second after you fellows burst in. You’ll be fighting in free-fall, but at least you’ll be used to it. Let’s hope it works in your favor …” He paused. “It must be almost dawn outside. You’ll have to hurry.” His hands reached tremblingly toward the clamps …
 
There were six of Zura’s zombies in that all-important engine room. Six zombies, three female hostages, three frightened engineers (for the fourth had been brave and foolish and was now dead) and one King, the Lord of Serannian himself. The layout of the plant was more or less the same as all of the others; the engines were slightly larger and their pumps massive. There were two large injection valves, both of them open in readiness,
and seated on the metal floor at the foot of each were carboys of green gas.
The engineers, chained to the engines, sweated at their work; the zombies patrolled in pairs, restlessly to and fro, their swords at the ready. The elevator cage had been dragged from its mountings and was jammed firmly half in, half out of the shaft, forming a makeshift prison for Kuranes and the women. Its doors were chained shut and Kuranes stood with his hands tightly clenched on the lattice of diagonal bars. The door to the engine room being open, the Lord of Serannian had a clear view of most of the plant. In one corner, three bodies formed a haphazard pile …

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