tricky things to hold. And don't start moving again
without letting me know."
"Right."
Stanton lifted himself out of the trench in which the tunnel ran and sat
on the edge of the boarding platform. It wasn't far now. There was only
one more of the old entranceways between himself and the Nipe. This
particular one was a transfer point, where two different parts of the
tunnel network met and it was possible to transfer from one to another.
It required going up a couple of flights of stairs to the next higher
level, and changing to another tunnel going southward.
There were other ways. This tunnel, the one he had been following for so
long, branched a little farther south. If he took one branch, he would
end up to the east of the Nipe; the other would bring him to a point on
the west. From either, he would have to travel laterally through
another set of tunnels, but neither route offered anything that this
one didn't have, and the most direct route would be best.
"Barbell to Barhop," he whispered, "I'm ready to go."
"It's only been five minutes."
"I know. But I rest pretty fast, too. Let's move out."
There were a few seconds of silence, then Captain Greer said: "All set,
Barbell. Move out."
Stanton got to his feet and walked toward the stairway that led up to
the next level. Minutes later, he was in another tunnel exactly similar
to the first one, walking southward again.
But now he was more careful. He watched the ground carefully, making
sure that he didn't step on anything that would snap or rattle. The Nipe
was still quite a distance away--three-quarters of a mile, or so--but
taking the chance that the beast couldn't hear him might be deadly
dangerous. The robot rat that he was following led him along a path that
had been unobtrusively cleared of rubble by the robot rats over a period
of months, but the robots weren't the only rats in the place. He kept
his eyes on the path.
A while later, the voice in his ear said: "A hundred yards to go,
Barbell."
"I know," Stanton whispered. "He hasn't moved?"
"No. I'll yell if he does. You don't need to talk any more. His ears
might pick up even that whisper."
_He hasn't moved_, Stanton thought. _Not for all this time. Not since I
came down into his private domain. All this time, he has been sitting
motionless--waiting. Wouldn't it be funny if he were dead? If his heart
had stopped, or something. Wouldn't that be absolutely hilarious?
Wouldn't that be
|