“Anybody home?”
Gene’s shout rang through the empty corridors, echoing among the silent towers. There was no answer.
“Stay low,” he whispered to Vaya, who crouched beside him behind an overturned fuel storage tank.
“Will I hear the gods speak to you?”
“Yeah. In fact, you’ll have to help me translate. I’ve lost communication with Zond. Left my walkie-talkie underwear back at camp.”
Silence returned, and they waited. Nothing happened.
Gene settled to his knees. “I don’t know about this.”
Vaya asked, “What is wrong, my husband?”
“This city doesn’t look in very good shape. Junk all over the place. Hell of a mess. I have a feeling it might be a dead town.”
“Will the dead show themselves?”
“That’s not what I mean. It’s dead, period. The machine that runs the place isn’t in operation.”
After waiting a minute or so, Gene turned, sat, and put his back against the tank. “Looks like we’ve come a long way for nothing.”
Vaya squatted beside him.
“Where will we go, my husband?”
“Back to Zond. We can live there indefinitely. Maybe with Zond’s help I can rescue the tribe, though it’s doubtful that Zond can ever be persuaded to build a weapon. Chance I could knock one together myself, maybe.”
Vaya lowered her head and did not speak.
“I am here,” a voice suddenly said, in English.
The disembodied voice was epicene, not quite human. Gene knew it to be the voice of the city. It sounded similar to Zond’s voice, but had more nonhuman overtones.
Gene sprang to his feet. “Hey, you’re home! How’s it going? I mean … Greetings! My name is Gene Ferraro. Uh, how did you learn English?”
“My colleague Zond speaks with you often. I have listened, and have learned.”
“Great. Well, then, you must know what I’m here for. First, though, we’d like a little hospitality, if you don’t mind. Long trip, and there’s dust way at the back of my throat.”
“Indeed.” The voice seemed rather cold.
Gene looked around. “Uh, yeah. Tell me … you say you’ve been eavesdropping. Have you had trouble with your transmitter? Zond says he hasn’t talked with you in years.”
The voice was silent for a long moment. Shuffling his feet, Gene began to feel a little awkward. It also occurred to him that he was exposed and vulnerable.
“My enemies are legion,” the voice said. “To speak is to divulge information, to give over data. I avoid this. It is dangerous.”
Gene gave a nervous cough. “Yeah. Definitely. We —”
“You come here to steal from me. I am not programmed to show hospitality to thieves.”
“Now, wait a minute. You’ve got the wrong idea.”
“You are not of the Masters. Neither did the Masters create you. The female one, yes. But you, no.”
“That’s true, very true.” Gene drew himself up. “I am a god from another world. I have powers far above any the Masters had.”
The machine did not immediately reply. Gene caught sight of something moving among the shadows at the base of a tower off to the right. He watched out of the corner of his eye.
He couldn’t make it out. Whatever it was, it made no sound. The silence seemed about to explode.
“You say you are a god?” the city finally said in a worried tone.
“That’s right. With powers far beyond those of mortal … whatever, people. Even Umoi. Able to leap tall buildings, and all that sort of stuff. I came here in good faith, seeking help. You have rebuffed me, and I’m starting to get really pissed off.”
“I do not wish,” the city said, “to incur the wrath of the supernatural.” The voice was hushed, fearful. “I hear the spirits, oftentimes. They wail their pain and remorse. At night, I weep. I am alone, so alone.”
Gene spoke to Vaya out of the side of his mouth. “Uh-oh, the thing’s gone off the deep end. Totally bonkers.” In full voice he said, “Look here, no one wants any trouble. I come in search of the interdimensional machine. I have need for it.”
“Interdimensional machine. I have heard you speak of this.”
“I gathered. Do you know where it is?”
There was a pause. Then: “I know of no such device.”
“Oh. Well, do you mind if we look around?”
Again, a pause, this one longer. Finally: “I have made a decision. You are not a god. You are not a Master, nor are you of domestic servant stock, if my genetic scan has yielded accurate data. However, your genetic pattern, though strange, is similar to that of a yalim. Therefore, you must be a mutation.”
Gene’s eye was on the thing in the lengthening shadows. The day had nearly ended, and light was fading fast. “Hey, it’s not nice to call someone that.”
“Therefore,” the machine went on, “you must be considered an undesirable life form and will be dealt with accordingly.”
“Duck!” Gene pulled Vaya down.
An energy beam sizzled over their heads. Its point of origin was near the base of the dark tower.
“Move back,” he ordered her. “And keep low!”
She needed no coaching. Together they retreated through the maze of debris that had greeted them on entering the city.
Annau was laid out in an open plan, with no gates or defensive barriers, but a low wall outlined the outer perimeter. This they had easily scaled coming in, but now it presented an impenetrable barrier. To climb it was to risk getting fried alive. And any thought of chancing it was ruled out, Gene saw, because a squat, tanklike robot sentry was rounding the curve of the wall, hugging its base. Gene raised his head and looked back toward the tower. A similar machine, the one that had fired, was pursuing them.
They moved off to one side and hid between the hulks of two overturned vehicles. Much of the debris looked the result of a battle, or perhaps a long series of skirmishes. In the back of his mind Gene wondered who had fought whom.
“Hell of a pickle,” Gene murmured. Vaya huddled close to him. For the moment, he could think of nothing to do except to keep moving and hiding.
They did this for the next quarter hour, dodging in and among the ruins. But more security machines clanked out from the shadows of the city, and they became hunted fugitives.
With the robots hemming them in on all sides, they sought refuge in the funnel-shaped mouth of a huge air vent. At the back of the funnel, a circular shaft descended at a steep angle, almost vertically.
“Looks like our only chance,” Gene said.
“We will descend to the underworld together, my husband. I am not afraid.”
“You’re braver than I am. Anything could be down there.”
Gene peeked out of the vent. One of the little tanklike security robots looked about ready to unleash another energy bolt. Gene urged Vaya farther back.
“Let’s do it, babe,” Gene said.
They sat on the edge of the incline and joined hands. Then they pushed off, sliding down the shaft and into darkness.
The angle of descent flattened out a little, but the metal tube was slippery. It was difficult to keep control. They tried braking with their feet, but soon they were sliding uncontrollably, plummeting deep into the bowels of the city.
The shaft finally leveled off, and Gene skidded to a stop. He got up, then went tumbling backward as Vaya slid into his legs.
They helped each other up. It was utterly dark. Gene felt his way around and found that they were still inside a large, circular metal tube. A deep humming sound throbbed in the darkness. This part of the city seemed alive and
