To The Stars

“Jan, Lajos here with the tanks. We’ve hit something too big to handle. It looks like we’ve lost one tank, though no one injured.”

“What is it?”

“Water, just water? The Road’s gone. I can’t describe it, you’ll have to see for yourself.”

There were complaints, but Jan kept the trains rolling until they caught up with the maintenance tanks. He was asleep when they picked up the first blip on the nose radar. He awoke at once and slid into the driver’s seat as Otakar vacated it.

As it had for days, the Road still traversed the coastal swamps. Continually different, yet always the same, the haze-shrouded wastes of reed and water had been changing imperceptibly. The ratio of open water to swamp was growing until, most suddenly, the swamps were gone and there was only water on both sides of the causeway. Jan slowed the train, and the others behind automatically followed. First the radar picked out the individual specks of the vehicles, then he could make them out by sight.

It was frightening. The Road dropped lower and lower below the surrounding water until, a little past the tanks, it vanished completely. Beyond them there was just water, no sign of the Road at all. Just a calm ocean stretching away on all sides.

Jan shouted to Otakar to finish the shutdown procedures since, the instant the brakes were set, he was at the exit hatch, pulling on a coldsuit. Lajos was waiting below when he dropped onto the Road.

“We’ve no idea how far it goes,” he said. “I tried to get across with a tank; you can see the turret of it about two kilometers out. It’s deeper there, flooded me suddenly. I just had time to hit the dampers and get out. The next tank threw me a rope, pulled me free.”

“What happened?”

“Just a guess. It looks like there was a general subsidence of the land here. Since it was all under water once, maybe it’s just dropping back where it came from.”

“Any idea how wide this thing is?”

“None. Radar won’t reach, and the telescopes just show more haze. It may end in a few kilometers. Or go on until it drops down to the ocean bottom.”

“You’re optimistic.”

“I was in that water — and it’s hot. And I can’t swim.”

“Sorry. I’ll go take a look myself.”

“The Road cable is still in place. You can’t see anything but the instruments can track it.”

Jan clumped around to the rear of the engine, his movements hampered by the thick coldsuit. The suit was lined with a network of tubes filled with cold water. A compact refrigeration unit on his belt hummed industriously and expelled the heated exhaust air to the rear. Cooled air was also blown across his face under the transparent helmet. The suit was tiring to wear after a few hours, but it made life possible. The outside air temperature now stood near 180 degrees. Jan thumbed on the built-in intercom at the rear of the engine.

“Otakar, can you hear me?”

“Green.”

“Set the interlocks to the cars, then disconnect the engine coupling. I’ll disconnect the cables back here.”

“Are we going for a ride?”

“You might say that.”

There was a whirr and a clatter as the metal jaws of the coupling slowly opened. Jan pushed the heavy tongue aside, then unplugged all the cable connectors. There were loud thuds under the car behind him as the beta safety brakes were actuated. The cables retracted like snakes into a hole, and he climbed back up to the driving compartment.

“I need three volunteers,” he told the waiting crew members as he pulled off the coldsuit. “You, you, and you. Alzbeta, take this suit and get back into the train. What we have to do may take a while.”

She did not protest, but her eyes were on him as she pulled on the suit slowly and left. Otakar dogged the hatch shut after her. Jan studied the glimmering expanse of water ahead. “Emo,” he said, “just how waterproof are we?”

The engineer did not answer at once. He scratched at his ear in thought as he looked around slowly, looking through the steel walls and floor with a mechanic’s eye, seeing all the joints, seals and hatches.

“Not bad at all,” he said, finally. “We’re made for a certain amount of water, drive trains and bearings, access ports and hatches, all with gaskets. Higher up, all right too, at least for a while. I really think we could submerge right up to the roof without getting into trouble. Higher than that and we could short out the cooling fins on top. Up that far I would say we’re waterproof.”

“Then I think we better go before we change our minds.” He dropped into the driver’s chair. “Get on the engine — I may need a lot of power. Ryzo, keep the radio open and keep a report going back. If there is any trouble I want the others to know what happened. Otakar, stand by if I need you.”

“Going for a swim?” the co-driver asked calmly, flipping on switches.

“I hope not. But we have to find out if the Road is still there. We can’t turn back and we can’t stay here. And this is the only Road. This engine stands more than twice as high as the tank. It all depends on the depth of the water. Power.”

“Full.”