'Its recognition receptor must be broken!' she shouted, barely audible above the din though her mouth was inches from his ear. 'It doesn't know us!'
Var no longer had any doubts about what kept the passage clean. The water spouted out was probably a chemical spray such as the crazies used to clear pathways, that killed and dissolved anything organic. And men were organic.
They could not escape. The monster filled the tunnel, blasting its chemicals against the sides and ceiling, and he saw its front sweepers scooping dust into a hopper and wetting it down too. They could not get around it and could not outrun it. They had to fight.
Then it was upon them.
Var picked up Soli and heaved her into the air. As her weight left his arms, he leaped himself.
The machine struck.
Var clung to consciousness. He spread his arms, and when one banged against something soft, he grasped it and fetched it in. ,He found a metal rod with the other hand and hung on to it. He held Soli in his arms, and they were riding the machine-bodies spread against the warm headlight, feet braced against the upper rim of the hopper. Once he was sure of his position, he checked Soil. She was limp. He hauled her about so that her head was against his and put his ear to her mouth, and felt the slight gout of air that proved she was breathing. He studied her head and body as well as he could, alternately blinded and shadowed by the cutting edge of light, and found no blood. She was alive and whole-and if the concussion were not severe, she would awaken in time. All he had to do was hold her securely until the machine stopped.
He shifted about, hunkering down against the hopper rim. The brushes whirled in front, highlighted in the spillage of light, and the water poured down from nozzles, but still the air was foul with dust. Something not quite visible whirred and ground inside the yard-deep hopper, reminding him of gnashing teeth. He kept his feet out of it, certain that he perched precariously over an ugly death. He wrestled Soil around again and draped her over his thighs, supporting her shoulders with his free arm and her feet with one leg. He did not want any part of her to dangle into that dark maw.
His muscles grew tired, then knotted, but he did not shift position again. He knew it could not be long, at this speed, before the machine reached the end of the tunnel and he knew by the packed dirt where it had tO stop. It only cleaned so far, for some reason. Once it did stop, they could jump free. They would be the first to escape from this farocious tunnel.
In less than half an hour light showed, a dim oval beyond the focus of the machine's beam. The vehicle ground to a halt, steam rising thickly about the wedged passengers. Var made his effort and discovered that his legs had gone to sleep.
Soil was still unconscious; there was no help there. If he dislodged himself now, be was likely' to drop them both into the dread hopper.
Tha machine shuddered. The blasting water jets cut off.
The grinder beneath Var ceasea its motion, and he saw that his fear had been Well-founded. But at least now he could step down on those gears without losing his feet, and that would make it possible to recover his circulation and lever Soli out.
The light doused, leaving only the pale cast from the entrance. The machine jolted into motion again the other way. Soil rolled off and Var had to grab for her. By the time he had her safe again, the motion was too swift. If he jumped with his prickling legs and her unconscious weight they would both be hurt.
But the grinder remained inert. Apparently it had been disconnected for the return trip, along with the spray and headlight Var worked one foot down, then let Soil slide.
Returning sensation made his legs painful, but now they were securely ensconced within the hopper, riding back along the tunnel at a good clip.
But why didn't she revive? Now, increasingly, he feared that she had struck her head too hard against the light, and suffered brain damage. He had seen warriors who bad become disorganized and even idiotic after club blows to the head. If that were the case with Soli... On and on the cleaner went, returning whence it had come. Var, helpless to do anything else, held Soil firm and slept.
He was jolted awake by bright light The machine had come into the open. Soil still nestled unconscious in his arm
The machine stopped again and there were people. First men with strange weapons no, they had to be tools then tall, armed, armored women, peering in at him and Soil. Some carried round disks of stretched leather, so that one arm was fettered and useless for combat.
'Look at that!' one exclaimed wonderingly. 'A beardface and a child.'
