Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus: The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

‘It’s possible he believes us destroyed,’ Erled said with a shrug. ‘Or he might already have been at the point of no return when he caught up with us and is unable to follow us any further. It could even be that the quake beam backfired on him – that happens sometimes, you know. Anyway the first thing we’ve got to do is check the ship.’

When they had done so the news was not good. The steering gear was severely damaged. Worse, the relatively delicate sustenance recycling plant had also suffered damage. Erled and Ereton debated what to do.

Erled said gloomily: ‘We may well die here in the rock. But even if we manage to turn round now and head back home, what future have we? Our rank rebellion earns the death sentence, apart from the possibility that Ergrad may have died, for which we will be held responsible. Let’s continue as best we can, Ereton.’

Dourly Ereton agreed.

In the ensuing months they spent much of their time trying to repair the damage. The recycling plant required enormous attention to keep it functioning properly. Sometimes the air became foul and the food uneatable, and neither could help but notice that even its best output was deteriorating over a period of time.

The traction motor never quite lost its ominous grating noise, but they did manage to jury-rig a steering system.

But despite all their successes the confined conditions of their existence, combined with persistent hard work, anxiety, poor food and air, were sapping their strength. As time advanced something like a stupor overcame them. Eventually each privately despaired of reaching their goal, though neither would speak of his despair to the other. During that time only one thing happened to break the monotony. Ereton was taking his turn on watch, staring with heavy-lidded eyes at the image plates. Suddenly he gave a hoarse cry which brought Erled hurrying forward.

‘Look!’

Furious ripples were appearing on the tremorscope, threatening to break out at any moment into a maelstrom of violence. ‘Definitely not a cavity,’ Erled mused. ‘To me it suggests only one thing: a natural quake – and a big one! Furthermore it’s directly ahead!’

‘A natural quake?’ said Ereton wonderingly. Theoretically they were possible but none had ever been observed. It was calculated that the violence of such phenomena, if they did actually occur, would be simply colossal – enough to wipe out in an instant any cavity luckless enough to be caught in them. Erled knew that they would not survive even for seconds in the giant rock storm that lay ahead.

‘If we’re to get out of its way we’re going to have to turn ninety degrees or more,’ Erled said. ‘Preferably to the right.’

‘Do you think we can?’

‘We’d better have a damned good try.’

Both were having a hard time to stay alert in the foul air. Cautiously they put their temporary steering system into operation. Reluctantly the ship turned a little. Then a little more. There was the sound of something snapping and an alarm sounded. Gritting his teeth, Ereton forced a little more pressure from the collapsing valves that were supposed to bring the head of the ship round in the rock. The ship turned a few degrees more, then the whole system gave way under the strain.

‘Ninety degrees,’ said Ereton, breathing deeply. ‘Just about!’

But they were without steering of any kind, and both knew that they did not have the strength to try to jury-rig the system again. Leaving the ship on automatic, they returned to their bunks.

Their morale was now falling rapidly. Whenever they could either Erled or Ereton attended to the recycling plant, but the rest of the time, completely debilitated, they simply lay on their narrow bunks and waited for whatever fate would bring.

Four months after their departure from the Cavity Erled was awakened from a deep slumber by the ringing of an alarm. He was perplexed to find that the engines were silent and that the ship was apparently motionless. Dragging himself from his bunk, he saw that the emptiness indicator was flashing – and, he guessed, had been flashing for some time.

Feverishly he shook Ereton to awareness and coaxed him to the control panel. The instruments told their own story: with no one at the controls to heed the ‘emptiness ahead’ warning, the solidity ship had plunged straight on until encountering that emptiness, upon which the automatic cutout had brought the vessel to a stop.

The two friends did not even speak to one another. Wordlessly they broke open a locker containing oxygen masks which were included in the ship’s kit in case the air of alien cavities proved unbreathable. Thus equipped, Erled summoned up his last remaining strength to force open the hull door.

The solidity ship had emerged halfway from a sheer rock wall. As luck would have it, it had struck emptiness only a couple of feet above one of the many rock ledges jutting from the cliff face. After testing the ledge for firmness, Erled and Ereton stumbled down and looked about them.