Vulcan's Hammer

CHAPTER 13

After a long time, Father Fields said, "Vulcan 2 was only a computing mechanism. It had no motives, no drives. Why would it act to impair Vulcan 3?"

"Because Vulcan 3 menaced it," Barris said. "Vulcan 2 was as much alive as Vulcan 3-no more and no less. It was created originally to do a certain job, and Vulcan 3 interfered with its doing that job, just as the withholding of data by Jason Dill interfered with Vulcan 3's doing its job."

"How did Vulcan 3 interfere with Vulcan 2's doing its job?" Father Fields said.

"By supplanting it," Barris said.

Fields said, "But I am the head of the Movement now. Vulcan 2 no longer exists." Rubbing his chin, he said, "There isn't a wire or a tube or a relay of Vulcan 2 intact."

"You did a thorough, professional job," Barris said.

The man's head jerked.

"You destroyed Vulcan 2," Barris said, "to keep Jason Dill from knowing. Isn't that so?"

"No," Fields said finally. "It isn't so. This is all a wild series of guesses on your part. You have no evidence; this is the typical insane slander generated by Unity. These mad charges, dreamed up and bolstered and embroidered -"

Once again, Barris noticed, the man had lost his regional accent. And his vocabulary, his use of words, had in this period of stress, greatly improved.

Marion Fields piped, "It's not true! My father founded the Movement." Her eyes blazed with helpless, baffled fury at Barris. "I wish I hadn't brought you here."

"What evidence do you have?" Fields said.

"I saw the skill with which you rebuilt that ruined ham­mer," Barris said. "It amounted to mechanical genius on your part. With ability like that you could name your own job with Unity; there're no repairmen on my staff in New York capable of work like that. The normal use Unity would put you to with such ability would be servicing the Vulcan series. Obviously you know nothing about Vulcan 3-and Vulcan 3 is self-servicing. What else does that leave but the older computers? And Vulcan 1 hasn't func­tioned in decades. And your age is such that, like Jason Dill, you would naturally have been a contemporary of Vulcan 2 rather-"

"Conjecture," Fields said.

"Yes," Barris admitted.

"Logic. Deduction. Based on the spurious premise that

I had anything to do with any of the Vulcan series. Did it ever occur to you that there might have been alternate computers, designed by someone other than Nat Green-street, that competent crews might have been put to work at-"

From behind Barris a voice, a woman's voice, said sharply, "Tell him the truth, Father. Don't lie, for once."

Rachel Pitt came around to stand by Barris. Astonished to see her, Barris started to his feet.

"My two daughters," Fields said. He put his hand on Marion Fields' shoulder, and then, after a pause, he put his other hand on the shoulder of Rachel Pitt. "Marion and Rachel," he said to Barris. "The younger stayed with me, was loyal to me; the older had ambitions to marry a Unity man and live a well-to-do life with all the things that money can buy. She started to come back to me a couple of times. But did you really come back?" He gazed medi­tatively at Rachel Pitt. "I wonder. It doesn't sound like it."

Rachel said, "I'm loyal to you, Father. I just can't stand any more lies."

"I am telling the truth," Father Fields said in a harsh, bitter voice. "Barris accuses me of destroying Vulcan 2 to keep Jason Dill from knowing about the relationship be­tween the old computer and the Movement. Do you think I care about Jason Dill? Did it ever matter what he knew? I destroyed Vulcan 2 because it wasn't running the Move­ment effectively; it was holding the Movement back, keep­ing it weak. It wanted the Movement to be nothing but an extension of itself, like those hammers of Vulcan 3. An instrument without life of its own."

His voice had gained power; his jaw jutted out and he confronted Barris and Rachel defiantly. The two of them moved involuntarily away from him, and closer to each other. Only Marion Fields remained with him.

"I freed the Movement," Fields said. "I freed humanity and made the Movement an instrument of human needs, human aspirations. Is that wicked?" He pointed his finger at Barris and shouted, "And before I'm finished I'm going to destroy Vulcan 3 as well, and free mankind from it, too. From both of them, first the older one and next the big one, the new one. Is that wrong? Are you opposed to that? If you are, then god damn it, go join them at the fortress; go join Reynolds."

Barris said, "It's a noble ideal, what you're saying. But you can't do it. It's impossible. Unless I help you."

Hunched forward in his chair, Father Fields said, "All right, Barris. You came here to do business. What's your deal?" Raising his head he said hoarsely, "What do you have to offer me?"

Barris said, "I know where the fortress is. I've been to it. Dill took me there. I can find it again. Without me, you'll never find it. At least, not in time; not before Vul­can 3 has developed such far-reaching offensive weapons that nothing will remain of life above ground."

"You don't think we'll find it?" Fields said.

"In fifteen months," Barris said, "you've failed to. Do you think you will in the next two weeks?"

Presently Father Fields said, "More like two years. We started looking from the very start." He shrugged. "Well, Director. What do you want in exchange?"

"Plenty," Barris said grimly. "I'll try to outline it as briefly as I can."

After Barris had finished, Father Fields was silent. "You want a lot," he said finally.

"That's right."

"It's incredible, you dictating terms to me. How many in your group?"

"Five or six."

Fields shook his head. "And there are millions of us, all over the world." From his pocket he produced a much-folded map; spreading it out on the counter he said, "We've taken over in America, in Eastern Europe, in all of Asia and Africa. It seemed only a question of time before we had the rest. We've been winning so steadily." He clenched his fist around a coffee mug on the counter and then suddenly grabbed it up and hurled it to the floor. The brown coffee oozed thickly out.

"Even if you did have sufficient time on your side," Barris said, "I doubt if you could ultimately have defeated Unity. It's hopeless to imagine that a grass-roots revolu­tionary movement can overthrow a modern bureaucratic system that's backed up with modern technology and elaborate industrial organization. A hundred years ago, your Movement might have worked. But times have changed. Government is a science conducted by trained experts."

Studying him with animosity, Fields said, "To win, you have to be on the inside."

"You have to know someone on the inside," Barris said. "And you do; you know me. I can get you in, where you will be able to attack the main trunk, not merely the branches."

"And the trunk," Fields said, "is Vulcan 3. Give us credit for knowing that, at least. That thing has always been our target." He let out his breath raggedly. "All right, Barris; I agree to your terms."

Barris felt himself relax. But he kept his expression under control. "Fine," he said.

"You're surprised, aren't you?" Fields said.

"No," he said. "Relieved. I thought possibly you might fail to see how precarious your position is."

Bringing forth a pocket watch, Fields examined it. "What do you want for the attack on the fortress? Weap­ons are still in short supply with us. We're mainly oriented around man power."

"There are weapons back at Geneva."

"How about transportation?"

"We have three high-speed military cruisers; they'll do." Barris wrote rapidly on a piece of paper. "A small concen­trated attack by skillful men-experts hitting at the vital center. A hundred well-chosen men will do. Everything de­pends on the first ten minutes in the fortress; if we succeed, it'll be right away. There will be no second chance."

Fields gazed at him intently. "Barris, do you really think we have a chance? Can we really get to Vulcan 3?" His grease-stained hands twisted. "For years I've thought of nothing else. Smashing that satanic mass of parts and tubes-"

"We'll get to him," Barris said.

Fields collected the men that Barris needed. They were loaded into the cruiser, and Barris at once headed back to­ward Geneva, Fields accompanying him.

Halfway across the Atlantic they passed an immense swarm of hammers streaking toward helpless, undefended North America. These were quite large, almost as large as the cruiser. They moved with incredible speed, disappear­ing almost at once. A few minutes later a new horde ap­peared, these like slender needles. They ignored the ship and followed the first group over the horizon.

"New types," Barris said. "He's wasting no time."

The Unity Control Building was still in friendly hands. They landed on the roof and hurried down the ramps into the building. On orders from Fields, the Healers had ceased attacking. But now hammers swarmed constantly overhead, diving down and twisting agilely to avoid the roof guns. Half of the main structure was in ruins, but the guns fired on, bringing down the hammers when they came too close.

"It's a losing battle," Daily muttered. "We're short on ammunition. There seem to be an endless number of the damn things."

Barris worked rapidly. He supplied his attack force with the best weapons available, supplies stored in the vaults below the Control Building. From the five Directors he se­lected Pegler and Chai, and a hundred of the best-trained troops.

I'm going along," Fields said. "If the attack fails I don't want to stay alive. If it succeeds I want to be part of it."

Barris carefully uncrated a manually operated fission bomb. "This is for him." He weighed the bomb in the palm of his hand; it was no larger than an onion. "My as­sumption is that they'll admit me and possibly Chai and Pegler. We can probably persuade them that we're coming over to rejoin Unity. At least we'll be able to get part of the distance in."

"Anyhow you hope so," Fields said curtly.

At sunset, Barris loaded the three cruisers with the men and equipment. The roof guns sent up a heavy barrage to cover their take-off. Hammers in action nearby at once be­gan following the ships as they rose into the sky.

"We'll have to shake them," Barris said. He gave quick orders. The three cruisers shot off in different directions, dividing up rapidly. A few hammers tagged them awhile and then gave up.

"I'm clear," Chai in the second cruiser reported.

"Clear," Pegler in the third said.

Barris glanced at the older man beside him. Behind them the ship was crowded with tense, silent soldiers, loaded down with weapons, squatting nervously in a mass as the ship raced through the darkness. "Here we go," Bar­ris said. He swung the ship in a wide arc. Into the com­munications speaker he ordered, "We'll re-form for the attack. I'll lead. You two come behind."

"Are we close?" Fields asked, a queer expression on his face.

"Very." Barris studied the ship's controls. "We should be over it in a moment. Get set."

Barris dived. Pegler's ship whipped through the dark­ness behind him, lashing toward the ground below; Chai's ship shot off to the right and headed directly over the fortress.

Hammers rose in vast swarms and moved toward Chai's ship, separating and engulfing it.

"Hang on," Barris gasped.

"The ground rose; landing brakes screamed. The ship hit, spinning and crashing among the trees and boulders.

"Out!" Barris ordered, pulling himself to his feet and throwing the hatch release. The hatches slid back and the men poured out, dragging their equipment into the cold night darkness.

Above them in the sky, Chai's shop fought with the hammers; it twisted and rolled, firing rapidly. More ham­mers rose from the fortress, great black clouds that swiftly gained altitude. Pegler's ship was landing. It roared over them and crashed against the side of a hill a few hundred yards from the other defense wall of the fortress.

The heavy guns of the fortress were beginning to open up. A vast fountain of white burst loose, showering rocks and debris on Barris and Fields as they climbed out of their ship.

"Hurry," Barris said. "Get the bores going."

The men were assembling two gopher bores. The first had already whined into action. More tactical atomic shells from the fortress struck near them; the night was lit up with explosions.

Barris crouched down. "How are you making out?" he shouted above the racket, his lips close to his helmet speaker.

"All right," Pegler's voice said weakly in his earphones. "We're down and getting out the big stuff."

"That'll hold off the hammers," Barris said to Fields. He peered up at the sky. "I hope Chai-"

Chai's ship rolled and spun, trying to evade the ring of hammers closing around it. Its jets smoked briefly. A di­rect hit. The ship wobbled and hesitated.

"Drop your men," Barris ordered into his phones. "You're right over the fortress."

From Chai's ship showered a cloud of white dots. Men in jump suits, drifting slowly toward the ground below.

Hammers screeched around them; the men fired back with pencil beams. The hammers retreated warily.

"Chai's men will take care of the direct attack," Barris explained. "Meanwhile, the bores are moving."

"Umbrella almost ready," a technician reported.

"Good. They're beginning to dive on us; their screen-probes must have spotted us."

The fleets of screaming hammers were descending, hurtling toward the ground. Their beams stabbed into the trees and ignited columns of flaming wood and branches. One of Pegler's cannon boomed. A group of hammers dis­appeared, but more took their places. An endless torrent of hammers, rising up from the fortress like black bats.

The umbrella flickered purple. Reluctantly, it came on and settled in place. Vaguely, beyond it, Barris could make out the hammers circling in confusion. A group of them entered the umbrella and were silently puffed out.

Barris relaxed. "Good. Now we don't have to worry about them."

"Gophers are halfway along," the leader of the bore team reported.

Two immense holes yawned, echoing and vibrating as the gopher bores crept into the earth. Technicians disap­peared after them. The first squad of armed troops fol­lowed them cautiously, swallowed up by the earth.

"We're on our way," Barris said to Fields.

Standing off by himself, Father Fields surveyed the trees, the line of hills in the distance. "No visible sign of the fortress," he murmured. "Nothing to give it away." He seemed deep in thought, as if barely aware of the battle in progress. "This forest... the perfect place. I would never have known." Turning, he walked toward Barris.

Seeing the look on the man's face, Barris felt deep un­easiness. "What is it?" he said.

Fields said, "I've been here before."

"Yes," Barris said.

"Thousands of times. I worked here most of my life."

The man's face was stark. "This is where Vulcan 2 used to be." His hands jerked aimlessly. "This was where I came to destroy Vulcan 2." Nodding his head at a massive moss-covered boulder, he said, "I walked by that. To the service ramp. They didn't even know the ramp still existed; it was declared obsolete years ago. Abandoned and shut off. But I knew about it." His voice rose wildly. "I can come and go any time I want; I have constant access to that place. I know a thousand ways to get down there."

Barris said, "But you didn't know that Vulcan 3 was down there, too. At the deepest level. They didn't acquaint your crew with-"

"I didn't know Jason Dill," Fields said. "I wasn't in a position to meet him as an equal. As you were."

"So now you know," Barris said.

"You gave me nothing," Fields said. "You had nothing to tell me that I didn't know already." Coming slowly to­ward Barris he said in a low voice, "I could have figured it out, in time. Once we had tried every other place-" In his hand a pencil beam appeared, gripped tightly.

Keeping himself calm, Barris said, "But you still won't get in, Father. They'll never let you in. They'll kill you long before you penetrate all the way to Vulcan 3. You'll have to depend on me." Pointing to his sleeve, he indicated his Director's stripe. "Once I get in there I can walk up and down those corridors; no one will stop me, because they're part of the same structure I'm part of. And I'm in a position of authority equal to any of them, Reynolds in­cluded."

Fields said, "Any of them-except for Vulcan 3."

Of to the right, Pegler's cannon thundered as the fleets of hammers turned their attention on them. The hammers dived and released bombs. An inferno of white pillars checkered across the countryside, moving toward Pegler's ship.

"Get your umbrella up!" Barris shouted into his helmet speaker.

Pegler's umbrella flickered, It hesitated-

A small atomic bomb cut across dead center. Pegler's ship vanished; clouds of particles burst into the air, metal and ash showering over the flaming ground. The heavy cannon ceased abruptly.

"It's up to us," Barris said.

Over the fortress the first of Chai's men had reached the ground. The defense guns spun around, leaving Barris' ship and focusing on the drifting dots.

"They don't have a chance," Fields muttered.

"No." Barris started toward the first of the two tunnels. "But we have." Ignoring the pencil beam in the older man's hand, he continued, his back to Fields.

Abruptly the fortress shuddered. A vast tongue of fire rolled across it. The surface fused in an instant; the wave of molten metal had sealed over the fortress.

"They cut themselves off," Barris said. "They've closed down." He shook himself into motion and entered the tunnel, squeezing past the power leads to the gopher.

An ugly cloud of black rolled up from the sea of glim­mering slag that had been the surface of the fortress. The hammers fluttered above it uncertainly, cut off from the levels beneath.

Barris made his way along the tunnel, pushing past the technicians operating the gopher. The gopher rumbled and vibrated as it cut through the layers of clay and rock to­ward the fortress. The air was hot and moist. The men worked feverishly, directing the gopher deeper and deeper. Torrents of steaming water poured from the clay around them.

"We must be close," Fields' voice came to him, from behind.

"We should emerge near the deepest level," Barris said. He did not look to see if the pencil beam was still there; he kept on going.

The gopher shrieked. Its whirring nose tore into metal; the bore team urged it forward. The gopher slashed into a wall of steel and reinforced stressed plastic and then slowed to a stop.

"We're there," Barris said.

The gopher shuddered. Gradually it inched forward. The leader of the team leaned close to Barris. "The other gopher's through, into the fortress. But they don't know exactly where."

All at once the wall collapsed inward. Liquid steel pelted them, sizzling. The soldiers moved ahead, pushing through the gap. Barris and Fields hurried with them. The jagged metal seared them as they squeezed through. Barris stumbled and fell, rolling in the boiling water and debris.

Putting his pencil beam away, Fields pulled him to his feet. They glanced at each other, neither of them speaking. And then they looked about them, at the great corridor that stretched out, lit by the recessed lighting familiar to both of them.

The lowest level of the fortress!