Quest for the Well of Souls - Jack L. Chalker [113]
There was no reply.
She returned to the others with Renard, who'd sat there listening.
"There's no way I could get into an opening that size, or even down there," he pointed out. "Vistaru could fly down, and might fit, but she couldn't handle the voltages, and her wings and stinger would be in the way, even if you knew just which circuit to tell her to reach. We're probably dealing with a single microscopic line."
She nodded. "No, you couldn't. But the Ghiskind can certainly reach it. It could probably follow the circuitry all the way to the bomb."
"So?" he responded. "What good is that? It can't carry anything, nor generate a voltage."
"But the Bozog could," she pointed out. "I saw some traveling up walls at the launch site. Thousands of tiny, sticky feet. It's low enough, and can ooze around curves like it managed in the elevator. And it can carry a wire—if we can find a hundred meters or more of thin copper wire."
"Of course! Then all I'd have to do is touch the wire with a full charge after the Bozog carries it and the Ghiskind directs its placement!"
She nodded again. "But first we have to see if we have enough wire around. And, second, we have to lick the other problem—without Obie's help, I'm afraid."
He looked confused. "Other problem?"
"The Bozog is a living creature. It's not at all immune to severe electrical jolts, nor—particularly—to those guns the plans in my head tell me are no bluff. The key area is on the far wall of the bridge, Renard. As long as Obie's in his defense mode, we can't get the Bozog to it."
"Oh," he said softly. Suddenly he froze, and there was a quizzical expression on his blue devil's face. He cocked it slightly to one side, as if listening for something.
"What's the matter?" she asked. Though Wooley had the best eyes of the group, Renard had by far the best hearing.
"There's something moving over there, not far from the elevator," he whispered. "Fairly large, too."
She turned her head slightly, carefully, in that direction. Nothing could be seen.
For a while there was no sound, then even she heard it. A soft sound, as if something heavy were being dragged through the grass.
"Let's head over to the elevator," she suggested softly. He nodded imperceptibly and they strolled over, casual but alert.
"So that's it, then," Mavra said conversationally. "We're stuck here. Our only chance is to make a deal with Yulin."
He nodded. "If he'll make deals. He's got to come out of there sooner or later, you know. He'll have to deal with us or trap himself."
All sounds had stopped. Renard nodded slightly in the direction of the base, where an unconscious human form could be seen. It was naked, dirty, and scarred, and its hair was a long, twisted mess. It lay face up—a young boy, apparently.
Renard looked into the elevator and couldn't suppress an exclamation. "My God!" he breathed.
Inside were stacked six or seven bodies, all out cold, all as filthy as the boy. All had horse's tails.
When he turned to yell to the others, something struck him, hard, sending him sprawling. He was up in an instant and rushed back.
Another unseen thing hit Mavra broadside with such strength that it toppled her onto her side.
Renard saw something large and indistinct near her, and reached out to touch it. Voltage flowed.
Apparently it had no effect, for something landed hard on his head, bringing unconsciousness.
Though nearly helpless, Mavra struggled to rise as she saw two eerie forms, like women but green and grassy, step into the elevator and pull the boy in after them. As they started to change to match the elevator interior, the wall solidified.
Renard regained consciousness quickly and got unsteadily to his feet. Mavra managed finally to pull herself to her feet.
"Who the hell was that?" he gasped.
"The savages—Belden's people," she replied. "Probably all of them, I'd say. Snatched right in front of us."
"But why?" he asked, still holding his head. "And who was it? Yulin? There were definitely at least two."
She nodded. "Two, and both