Miles, Mutants and Microbes - Lois McMaster Bujold [38]
Tony stuck his head cautiously out the chamber, looked right and left, up and down. "All right. Get ready to help me lower the pack as soon as this next forklift goes by. It'll have to fall the last meter, but maybe the sound of the forklift will cover that some."
Together they shoved the pack toward the edge of the cell, and waited. The whirring robolift was approaching down the corridor, an enormous plastic storage crate almost as large as a cubicle positioned on its lift.
The forklift stopped below them, beeped to itself, and turned ninety degrees. With a whine, its lift began to rise.
At this point, Claire recalled that theirs was the only empty cell in this stack.
"It's coming here! We're going to get squashed!"
"Get out! Get out on the ladder!" Tony yelped.
Instead she scuttled back to grab Andy, where she'd laid him at the rear of the chamber as far as possible from the frightening edge while she'd helped Tony shove the pack forward. The chamber darkened as the rising crate eclipsed the opening. Tony barely squeezed past it onto the ladder as it began to grind inward.
"Claire!" Tony screamed. He pounded uselessly on the side of the huge plastic crate. "Claire! No, no! Stupid robot! Stop, stop!"
But the forklift, clearly, was not voice-activated. It kept coming, bulldozing their pack before it. There were only a few centimeters' clearance on the sides and top of the crate. Claire retreated, so terrified her screams clotted in her throat like cotton, and she emitted only a smeary squeak. Back, back; the cold metal wall behind froze her. She flattened against it as best she could, standing on her lower hands, holding Andy with her uppers. He was howling now, infected by her terror, earsplitting shrieks.
"Claire!" Tony cried from the ladder, a horrified bellow laced with tears. "Andy!"
The pack, beside them, compressed. Little crunching noises came from it. At the last moment, Claire transferred Andy to her lower arms, below her torso, bracing against the crate, against gravity, with her uppers. Perhaps her crushed body would hold the crate off just far enough to save him—the robolift's servos squealed with overload. . . .
And began to withdraw. Claire sent a silent apology to their oversized pack for all the curses she and Tony had heaped upon it in the past hours. Nothing in it would ever be the same, but it had saved them.
The robolift hiccuped, gears grinding bewilderedly. The crate shifted on its pallet, out of sync now. As the lift withdrew, the crate skidded with it, dragged by friction and gravity, skewing farther and farther from true.
Claire watched open-mouthed as it tilted and fell from the opening. She rushed forward. The crash shook the warehouse as the crate hit the concrete, followed by a booming shattered echo, the loudest sound Claire had ever heard. The crate took the forklift with it, its wheels whirring helplessly in air as it banged onto its side.
The power of gravity was stunning. The crate split, its contents spilling. Hundreds of round metal wheelcovers of some kind burst forth, ringing like a stampede of cymbals. A dozen or so rolled down the aisle in either direction as if bent on escape, wobbling into the corridor walls and falling onto their sides, still spinning, in ever-diminishing whanging pulses of sound. The echoes rang on in Claire's ears for a moment in the stupendous silence that followed.
"Oh, Claire!" Tony swarmed back into the cell and wrapped all his arms around her, Andy between them, as if he might never let go again. "Oh, Claire . . ." His voice cracked as he rubbed his face against her soft short hair.
Claire looked over his shoulder at the carnage they had created below. The overturned robolift was beeping again, like an animal in pain. "Tony, I think we better get out of here," she suggested in a small voice.
"I thought you were coming behind me, onto the ladder. Right behind me."
"I had to get Andy."
"Of course. You saved him, while I—saved myself.