ON THE CITY ROOF
Alan and I sat, that late evening of the battle's second day, upon our
bed where we had just been sleeping. The news tapes and mirrors gave us
the details of what had happened while we slept. Turber was winning.
There could be no doubt of that.
The sleep had refreshed us; and suddenly, as I met Alan's eyes, I
realized that his thoughts were the same as mine. There must be
something we could do to try and rescue Nanette. We were no longer
total strangers here.
We knew the city now; and by personal contact, or by reputation, we
were known to most of the commanders of the city forces.
"That fellow Van Dyne," said Alan, "the Marshal of the West Manhattan
area, likes us. I was thinking--"
I interrupted: "Get him to organize a small squad. It could be done
without general orders. Make a secret raid into the Turber section--try
to get to the aero--"
Make a desperate play; no matter how desperate! We were all desperate.
The situation was almost as bad as it could be.
Alan shook his head. "I think the more men we took, the less chance
of success. There's no chance, Ed, to fight our way into the Turber
city. We'll have to try to get there by our wits--just you and I. I was
thinking--"
He had a plan. We discussed it; elaborated it. We called on the
audiphone here by our bed for Van Dyne. He was available. Luck was with
us. He was where we wanted him to be, on the roof, on patrol duty.
The least of the fighting so far had been on the city roof. The
Turberites had made sorties, but often had abandoned the region they
took. Van Dyne told us now:
The Hoboken roof section was mainly in Turber hands. And Brooklyn. But
this central Manhattan section and all north of it we held.
Van Dyne was on the roof, over mid-lower-Manhattan.
"We want to come up and see you," said Alan.
"Where are you?"
Alan told him our location in northern Westchester. "Can you order us
transportation?"
"Yes," he said. "But it's round-about. Only a few official lines
running."
"I know," said Alan. "Order us a guide to get us up to you. Hurry it,
please."
A guide appeared in our room in a moment. He led us out to a small
rail-car. It whirled us south. Then by lift to the roof. An official
transport car on a narrow-gauge roof-track was operating with emergency
battery. It took us south, over the roof-top.
* * * * *
The roof spread like a great rolling expanse of rumpled canvas. Dark
everywhere, with a few dotted lights. It never was level for very far.
It rose in terraces, up and down, heaped up in peaks to cover huge,
looming structures beneath. A roof, built haphazard, piecemeal, through
many centuries. It rose to the right, over Hoboken, and ahead of us,
over mid-Manhattan, it loomed in great terraced steps.
The open sky was over us. It seemed so strange to be out in the open
air! A black night, with heavy, sullen clouds.
The roof surface was a dark metal labyrinth. Narrow metal roadways
crossing it; viaducts, sometimes on stilts to strike a more level
path; inclines up the terraces; footpaths and ladders. The air landing
stages--all now abandoned--were up here.
There were low metal towers at intervals; observation and instrument
towers; occasional low metal buildings--the meteorological station;
observatories; metal posts were set at points of vantage holding the
image finders for the city mirrors; and there were occasional official
kiosks covering the entrances downward to the city. And an intricate
system of drainage sluiceways, with heat projectors to melt the winter
snows.
A maze of metal structure, this roof-top. It was all official--the
public always was barred up here. Its activity was paralyzed now. The
buildings were abandoned. The lights were nearly all out. It lay dark
and mysterious, with only the glow of the city showing in occasional
irregular patches where the roof-structure was translucent.
* * * * *
Our car was frequently challenged as we passed prowling patrols of the
city police. Then we came to Van Dyne.
A friendly fellow. Alan, in confidence told him our plan, and he passed
us. His post here was the end of our territory. Beyond it the roof was
abandoned--a sort of No Man's Land, where figures prowled; but for
hours now there had been no fighting.
"Good luck," Van Dyne said.
We slipped past and ran south. We followed a narrow viaduct which bent
to the right to avoid the higher terraces. The roof surface was some
six feet beneath it, with occasional steps leading down. It was all
solid black.
We were armed with the needlelike swords; and each of us carried a
small dagger. It had been our original plan to have Van Dyne secure for
us two uniforms of the Turberites. There were many bodies in the city
in our territory.
But it was not necessary, Van Dyne told us promptly. The roof up
here had been the scene of many bloody skirmishes. We could pick for
ourselves.
We went south perhaps a mile. Alert, but we encountered nothing alive.
Occasionally upon the roof we saw a heap of dead. Our little viaduct in
one place was blocked with bodies. Turber's rabble was always garbed in
the costumes of its native Time-worlds. It seemed a conceit of his. We
lifted the dead bodies here. Grisly business! We selected two of about
our size. They wore the red-coated uniforms of the British army of
the Revolutionary War. In the darkness on the trestle-like viaduct we
changed clothes. And then we found two dark cloaks. Threw them over our
heads. In the darkness we might thus pass unnoticed. But if challenged
we hoped we might be thought Turberites. Our native language--with
uniforms like this--would be English, which is why we selected them. We
discarded our police needle-swords and carried only the daggers.
Again we started south. The roof was at a low altitude here over the
Hudson River section. We passed down to where the fence of the original
Turberite area ranged in an irregular line east and west across the
roof.
"Think we can get through it, Ed?"
"Van Dyne said the gates were more or less abandoned--some were smashed
by the fighting up here."
"Yes. But we'll be challenged."
We had expected constantly to be challenged. The metal fence loomed
close before us. It seemed thirty or forty feet high. There was a
gateway near by.
"Over there," whispered Alan.
We were down on the roof-structure itself now, clambering forward over
its sluiceways.
"Ed!" He gripped me. In the air over us the Turber Time-aero came
sailing! It was solid--not traveling in Time--merely sailing here in
Space. Two or three hundred feet above us, moving slowly north!
We stared with sinking hearts. This was so wholly unexpected. The aero
seemed descending, as though it might land on the roof. A moment;
and then it flashed, faded into phantom. There was an instant when I
thought it had gone through the roof. The wraith of it vanished.
We stood stricken. Was Turber taking Nanette into some other
Time-world? Abandoning his enterprise here? It did not seem likely when
he was winning.
Or was the aero going into Time to try to find our tower? Had Turber
some inkling that Lea was bringing us a superweapon? Was he sending his
aero to try and prevent that? If so, were he and Nanette in the aero?
We had no way of knowing.
"I think we should go on," Alan whispered at last. "Nanette may be in
the city. If they'll accept us as Turberites--if we can only get to
her--"
We got through the gateway. A guard was there. He chanced to speak
English. We flung back our cloaks.
"Special business for Dr. Turber. Good news!"
There seemed only one fellow here. Then off to one side we saw a dozen
or more, seated on the roof in a glow of light, lolling about, smoking.
The fellow passed us. We went on.
* * * * *
The Turber roof was dim with dotted lights. But it was all in
operation. Groups of soldiers at intervals; occasionally a transport
car passing along on its narrow rails.
The fellow at the gate had waved vaguely toward this viaduct we now
were traversing. We had followed his gesture. Our idea was to locate
some Turber official whom we might fool--or force--into giving us
information about Nanette.
A low metal building showed ahead of us. It was small; it seemed
perhaps of only one room. An isolated, dark spread of roof was around
it. This viaduct we were on led to it. The little house had open
windows, low to the floor, and there was a glow of light within.
I whispered: "Some official may be on duty there. If we can rush
him--make him tell us--"
A kiosk leading down into the city showed a hundred feet or so beyond
the little building.
We left the viaduct. We crept forward over the dark open roof. We came
to one of the open windows of the building. There must have been at
that instant a dark figure lurking near us on the roof. Watching us.
But we did not see it.
The window stood with its sill at our knees. We dropped low, peered in.
A single metal room with a glow of light. A metal table-block held a
strange instrument of tubes and coils. Strange to me; but not to Alan.
It was a Time-vision instrument! Its screen stood facing us; upon it
was an image of our tower, a phantom speeding tower!
A man sat with his back to us, hunched over the instrument. It was
Turber! He was alone in the room. Alan's lips went to my ear:
"I'll go first."
The Time-vision was humming. It covered the slight noise we made. We
got through the window; stalked noiselessly.
With a leap we seized Turber. He seemed unarmed, he did not struggle
or cry out. He was startled; but he sat back with almost instantly
recovered poise.
"Well! You here?"
We stood over him. Alan gripped him. There was a moment when I thought
that Alan might plunge the dagger into him and have it over.
"Alan--easy!"
Alan shook him. He did not resist. Alan gritted: "God, I ought to kill
you! Where is Nanette?"
"Nanette? Nanette?"
* * * * *
He began to stall. It was too much for me.
I cuffed him in the face with the flat of my hand. He winced and went
livid white; his eyes bored into me. But he held firm.
He said: "Why--Nanette? Take your hands off me, young fellow!"
Alan eased up. He motioned me off. "We want Nanette, understand?
We're desperate, Turber. If you balk I'll stab you now and have done.
Understand?"
He said: "Yes." He managed a wry smile. "If I raise my voice I can
bring a dozen of my men here in a minute."
"But we'll kill you first," said Alan.
He could not doubt it. He said: "All right--then let's be quiet. I'm
no more anxious to die than you are." His poise was coming back. He was
gauging us; his glance seemed roving the room. "What do you want?"
"Nanette," I said. "Where is she? The truth, damn you!"
I felt he was going to say in the aero.
Instead he said: "Down in the city, not far from here."
There was a local audiphone hanging on a hook near him. Alan said:
"Order her up. Be quick! Give the order and have one man only bring her
up."
He moved his hand to take down the receiver. He stopped. He said: "You
see, I've told you the truth. I could just as easily have said she was
in my aero. Did you see my aero passing?"
"Yes," said Alan.
"I've sent it after your tower. With Bluntnose and Jonas." The
Time-vision instrument was still operating; he gestured to the screen,
which still showed our speeding phantom tower. The dials here were
illegible to us. Turber added:
"Where has your tower been? I just picked up this image. Is your tower
coming here?"
* * * * *
I realized he was again stalling. I said: "You take down that
receiver--"
He took it down. He said: "Shall I open the circuit?"
"Yes," commanded Alan. "And speak quietly--if you say a wrong word I'll
run this dagger in your throat."
This clever scoundrel! We realized afterward that he had drawn our
attention to the screen and thus had turned our backs to the door of
the room which he could see out of the tail of his eyes. As we bent
alert while he reached for the audiphone a figure crept up behind us;
launched full upon us.
We were taken wholly by surprise--knocked against the table. The woman
Josefa! She had doubtless followed Turber to the roof, jealous of his
every movement. He had seen her behind us in the doorway. She leaped
upon us. Turber heaved upward. Alan's dagger grazed his arm.
Turber shouted. He struck with his fist at me and flung himself
backward. The woman managed to cling to us both, heedless of our
knives. She clung; kicked, bit and tore at us. It took a moment for us
to shake her off. But in that moment Turber was near a window. He flung
a heavy metal chair at us; and turned and leaped like a misshapen cat
through the window. His shouts sounded outside, as he ran, giving the
alarm.
We would be trapped here in another moment.
"Alan, come on! Get out of here!"
I was free of the woman. I tore her from Alan. She panted: "You let him
alone! You let him alone!"
We turned and ran. Leaped into the darkness of the roof, where a
turmoil of the alarm was beginning.
How we ever got back I do not know. Hunted, as two rats would have been
hunted in that metal labyrinth by a pack of wolves. But we got through
safely; found a broken section of the division fence. Ran northward.
The pursuit behind us presently died away. Then we came upon a city
police patrol. They saw our red uniforms and very nearly killed us
before we could speak. But we convinced them of our identity.
One said: "The tower came!"
It galvanized us. "The tower?"
"Came, but did not stop. Just a phantom."
What could that mean? Lea and San, passing, but not stopping!
We got transportation down into the city, avoiding the areas where the
fighting was raging. An official car took us by devious route to the
tower-space. The street here was heavily guarded by the city forces,
but the Turberites were fighting close to the south. Only a few blocks
away we could hear the sounds of the battle.
The tower had come and passed. Its marked space in the street was
empty. Our guards surrounded it. We stood among them.
A phantom showed over our heads! A moving phantom of the Turber aero!
It darted across the tower-space and vanished.
Now we understood! San and Lea were trying to land. Bluntnose, with
the aero, was endeavoring to prevent them. He had followed the tower
through Time. Two speeding phantoms! The aero could wing its way
directly through the tower without contact--when they were speeding
phantoms! But not if they stopped.
The tower showed again. A brief wraith of it. Just an instant; but in
that instant the aero also materialized, circling, darting. Then they
both were gone.
Would San dare stop? Would he risk that Bluntnose might wreck the aero
and kill himself, just to wreck the tower?
Another moment. Again the phantoms showed. The aero was slightly above
the tower, and to one side.
The tower did not pass. In a breath it materialized into solidity
before us. My heart seemed to stop. San had dared!
The aero seemed half to turn. And then the wraith of it vanished!
Bluntnose had not dared risk it.
From the tower came Lea and San, dragging apparatus. The projector!
They had been successful.
The guards in the street were shouting triumphantly. A turmoil was
around us. I stood at the foot of the tower steps; I saw Lea fling
herself impulsively into Alan's waiting arms.
The tower, with San, sped safely away.
But my heart was cold. Whatever the outcome here a fairyland of
happiness for me was gone--the lost what-might-have-been for Nanette,
and me.