The Day the Machines Stopped

by Christopher Anvil

  Brian looked blank. “Special kind of engine?”

  “Diesels. They started them on compressed air. And when old Duke seen them trucks coming toward the crossroads, he like to run us into the ground getting there first to throw up a roadblock. But that was only the start of the fun. We must have outnumbered them . . . anyway, ten to one, but they had machine guns, hand grenades, and flame-throwers, and just for variety every now and then an arrow would fly out of one of them trucks and somebody’d get skewered. I’d have let them go, myself. We were all getting kind of tired of them. But not old Duke. He was all over us, telling us we had to get this bunch, and pretty soon they run low on ammunition, and that flame-thrower of theirs give out, and we got them.

  “They had their women and kids with them and everything. Bunch of scientists, headed west. Planned to join up with the Federals up in Montana, near as we could figure. Duke made a deal with them, so now we got the only crew of scientists around here. Duke figures we can use them to make steam cars, fix up locomotives, make gunpowder— lots of things. Only trouble is, they wouldn’t strictly promise not to try to get away. Got to be careful they don’t sneak out on us.”

  Brian and the Duke’s man were still talking when Carl came up, looking worried, and drew Brian aside.

  “Listen,” said Carl, “Anne’s gone.”

  “Gone! Where?”

  Carl kept his voice low. “We think the Duke’s got her.”

  There was the blast of a whistle, and the Duke’s men started back to the road. In a few minutes they were again in formation, and the cooks’ helpers were picking up the coffee and cocoa mugs, pieces of waxed paper, and empty ration boxes that were left piled at the base of trees and shrubs. Quickly, Carl explained what had happened.

  “Schmidt saw Anne go outside. She wanted to ask her father about something, and said she thought she’d seen him go outside near the fence. She was going to come right back in, but this Duke saw her and called her over. That’s the last anyone’s seen of her.”

  Brian looked at the column of troops just starting to move past. Far down the column was a truck, which he recognized as one of Cardan’s. He climbed up on the porch, then onto the porch rail, and carefully scanned the marching column.

  “There’s only one place she could be, Carl. That’s in the truck.”

  Carl "bit his lip.

  Smitty came over, followed their gaze, and stared at the truck. “That’s one of ours!”

  Brian jumped down and told him what the Duke's men had said.

  “Then,” said Smitty, relieved, “they must have gotten away from that crew. with the bows and arrows.”

  “That doesn’t help us any if Anne’s in that truck.” Cermak had come around the corner of the porch and stopped abruptly. “Who’s in the truck?”

  Brian said, “Carl thinks Anne is gone. We both figure if she’s in that column anywhere, it’s inside the truck.”

  Cermak stared at the passing truck. “Yes. He is the Duke. She is the peasant’s daughter. If he wants her he will take her. Wait a minute while I go inside and make sure.” “Damn it,” said Carl, looking at the two guards armed with Tommy guns at the rear of the truck, “how are we going to get her out of there?”

  Smitty looked at the platoon coming along behind the truck. They looked particularly well armed and tough.

  Slowly the troops moved by.

  Cermak, his face carefully blank, came out of the house. “She’s gone, all right.”

  “Whatever we do,” said Carl, “we’re going to have to do it fast.”

  Cermak said bitterly, “There isn’t a thing we can do, and that Duke knows it.”

  “We can’t just let her go!” Carl insisted.

  “You think she means more to you than she means to me?” Cermak asked. “But I’ve run my head into too many stone walls not to know another when I see it. Count their guns, then count yours. Go read the notice on the porch. We won’t get anywhere against him. But they say the government is still holding out in Montana and a few other states, and sooner or later they’re going to have to finish this Duke. Maybe, if I tell them what he’s doing, they’ll do it now.”

  Brian said, “I think I see how we could get close enough to keep an eye on her, and maybe get her free later.”

  Carl said tensely, “How?”

  “Join up with them.”

  Anne’s father said angrily, “Don’t you think he’ll know enough to suspect your reasons, and put you where you can’t do anything?”

  Brian again described what he’d learned about the Duke and Cardan.

  Carl snapped his fingers. “He wants scientists!”

  Brian nodded.

  Smitty said hesitantly, “That might work.”

  “You do what you want,” Cermak said. “I’m going to find what’s left of the United States and tell them what’s going on here. I know you’re doing this for Anne, Brian, but be careful this Duke doesn’t suck you in. He’ll be clever.”

  Fifteen minutes later Brian, Carl and Smitty had said good-bye to Cermak and their farmer friends, and were on the road, walking steadily and fast toward the tail of the column on the road ahead.

  Before long, they caught up, explained what they wanted, and a tall benevolent figure with glittering ducal coronet greeted them cheerfully, quizzed them briefly on their specialties, and then rubbed his hands together.

  “This is a splendid day, gentlemen. I’ve already captured a number of men scientists, and a woman scientist who was staying at a farm along the way. But you are the first to join me voluntarily.” He beamed upon them paternally, then told them where to get shelter halves, blankets, and food when they camped that night. Then he sent for someone to help them get acquainted.

  The next day, following stops at several more farms, the Duke and his men set out for their base.

  Chapter 10

  Built on a low bluff, near the place where a smaller stream joined a river, the Duke’s base presented a number of problems to an attacker. It’s location made approach tricky from any direction but one, while an impressive tangle of barbed wire blocked the way in that direction. A tall watchtower looked far out over the countryside, making surprise more difficult. The buildings in the camp were completely surrounded by an earth wall and an outer ditch. Like all of the Duke’s arrangements that Brian had seen so far, the base had a solid look, as if it were very unlikely to fold up at the first blow.

  Brian and his companions had been unable even to catch sight of Anne. They had hoped for better luck at the base, but what they’d seen so far looked unpromising.

  Inside, Brian, Carl and Smitty were given quarters in a one-story building about forty feet long. At one end was a small room containing two double bunks. Across the short hall was a lavatory. The rest of the building was empty. Shortly after they’d gotten there, several of the Duke’s men carried in a box containing an assortment of books, most of them high-school texts in chemistry, physics and biology, and a plain wooden table.

  Smitty said dryly, “Now we’re all set.”

  Brian said, “Well, the main thing is to find Anne, then get in touch with Cardan.”

  “We’ll have a swell time doing it. Did you notice the layout on the way in?”

  Brian nodded. There had been half a dozen worn, two-story wooden structures side by side in a straight line, with another two-story building placed well back of one end of the line, and the low, one-story building they were in now, set well back of the other end. These buildings were rectangular, and had apparently all been there long before the Duke. In addition, there was a newer-looking, large, square central mess hall, with another square building and the watchtower in a line back of it. The original rectangular buildings and the mess hall, seen from the air, would form sort of jack-o’-lantern’s face, the straight line of six buildings, side by side, forming the mouth, the square mess-hall the nose, and the two separated buildings further back, the eyes. The other square building was at a point midway between and slightly abov
e the eyes, with the watchtower in line further above it. In addition, a number of smaller buildings were scattered around without visible pattern. But what Brian and Smitty were thinking about was the particular way these buildings were split up.

  When they’d marched in with the others through the gate, they’d found themselves between two lines of strong fence topped with barbed wire. This led directly through a second gate into a large circular yard with the mess hall in the center, and five additional gates leading to the five separated sections of the base. The row of six side-by-side buildings was split in half by the two lines of fence leading in from the outside. The two other widely separated buildings that sat back from the ends of this line were cut off from it by two more fences. The watchtower and the square building back of the mess hall were separated from the other buildings by double lines of fence topped with barbed wire. Each of these separated sections was connected to the others only by a gate to the yard around the mess hall. When they marched in, half the troops promptly turned right through one gate, while the other half went left through another gate. The line of six two-story buildings were evidently barracks. The Duke and certain of his officers and men went to the square building back of the mess hall. That must be the headquarters building.

  Brian, Carl and Smitty had been shown into the small building they were now in. There remained only one place on the Duke’s base that might house Cardan and his men. That was four fences away, on the opposite side of the Duke’s headquarters and watchtower. Anne, if she was actually,on the base, was apparently inside the heavily fenced headquarters building.

  As Brian was contemplating these obstacles, there was a knock on the door at the end of the large room. A man came in carrying a covered tray and a wicker basket.

  “Eats,” he said cheerfully. He set the tray and basket on the table. “Duke says to start studying up on steam engines. You want to earn your pay and water, you’re going to have to repair one we’re bringing in.”

  Smitty said promptly, “For that, we’ll need tools.” “Sure. You’ll get tools.” He grinned broadly and went out.

  Carl said, “What was that about earning our pay and water?"

  Brian scowled and raised the lid of the tray. The odor of roast beef, boiled onions and baked potatoes drifted out into the room. I ft the basket were three fresh rolls, split open, butter melting on them.

  “There’s plenty of food here,” he said, “but no water.”

  Smitty came back into the room from the direction of the washroom. “There are four sinks, a shower, and a variety of other fittings in there. The only thing in the pipes is air.”

  They looked at the food a moment, then glanced at each other. Smitty said, “Well, we may die of thirst, but I don’t plan to die of starvation.” He pulled out a roll.

  They were finishing a highly satisfying meal when there was a rumble and a clank outside. Brian opened the door and saw a collection of rusty scrap metal being unloaded from a wagon.

  Carl came over. “What’s that?"

  Brian swallowed the last of his roll with a dry mouth.

  The men on the wagon dropped off a couple of rods with large fittings at one end, swung the wagon around and went out. The gate clanged shut behind him.

  Carl turned around and leaned back into the building. “Hey, Smitty!”

  Smitty mopped his plate with his roll. “I’ll be out in a minute. Look things over and see what you think.”

  Brian and Carl walked around the pile of parts, but were no wiser at the end than at the beginning. There were, among other things, a large, heavy cast-iron base, a heavy spoked wheel, rods of different shapes and sizes, a cylindrical pifece of metal, a good-sized piston, a little tank, odd lengths of pipe, and assorted loose bolts and cap screws. To one side lay a greasy cloth with a hammer and a variety of wrenches and other tools wrapped up in it.

  Smitty came out the door of the building wearing a look of contentment, and walked around the pile. He bent over, pulled out one of the rods and examined the large end carefully, got up, and leaned over to pull out another part.

  On the far side of the fence, a good dozen of the Duke’s men lounged around, grinning and watching the obvious discomfiture of Brian and Carl.

  Smitty straightened up. “It’s all here. In fact, some joker has thrown in some extra pieces to foul us up.”

  “Great,” said Carl. “What is it?”

  Smitty looked surprised. “It’s a low horsepower, side-crank, slide-valve steam engine. See, here’s the crosshead, this is the connecting rod, and there’s the crankshaft. The whole thing has already been put together and then disassembled. You see the grease here, and the way this rust has been scraped away so the metal is shiny where the parts have been fitted together?”

  Carl shook his head. “I’m just manual labor on this job.”

  Brian was struggling to remember what little he’d ever learned about steam engines.

  Smitty said, “Do just as I say. First, bring that table out so we can get some of these parts up out of the dirt. Then we’d better start putting it together. I’m thirsty already.”

  Under Smitty’s directions, they began assembling the engine. At dusk, one of the Duke’s men carried out a gasoline lantern which cast its white glare and hard shadows on the scene. Around midnight, the three men, covered with perspiration and dizzy with thirst, stood back from the finished job. They were through.

  The piston was connected to the piston rod, the piston rod to the crosshead, the crosshead to the connecting rod, the connecting rod to the crankshaft. The valve gear was all connected up. If they had a source of steam, the thing should work.

  There was a clang as the gate opened and three men came in caVrying buckets of water, while a fourth man looked over the engine, grinned, and said, “Okay, you’ll do. The Duke’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight.” He nodded to the others, who set down the water.

  Brian, Carl and Smitty drank the cool, water cautiously, like men who have crossed the desert and are afraid to take too much at once. They fell into their bunks, exhausted —only to be blasted out of bed by a bugle thrust in the nearest doorway. They were sure they’d slept about an hour; it turned out to be six a.m. The roar of a megaphone invited them out for half an hour of violent calisthenics. A tray containing three steaming bowls of corn-meal mush was delivered to them .at seven ten, followed by another six buckets of water:-A "small wood stove was lugged into the room, and several men were connecting it up as Brian, Carl and Smitty trudged sleepily out to the gate and said, “We’re supposed to see the Duke at eight. Where do we find him?” “At the palace. Through that gate to the left.”

  The “palace” turned out to be the large square headquarters building near the watchtower. This had a porch completely around the base and the second floor, with several business places, namely the Palace Barber Shop, the Palace Refreshment Stand, and the Palace Clothes and Equipment Mart, on the first floor. Beside a broad flight of stairs to the second floor was a sign in the shape of an arrow, with the letters D.U.K.E.

  The second-floor porch, running completely around the building, had a variety of doors opening off it. To .Brian’s right as he left the steps was a door marked D.U.K.E. Against the wall nearby was a large grandfather clock, plainly put there as a hint to people to come and leave on time. The clock now said three minutes before eight. On the other side of the door from the clock stood a guard, who watched them with no particular expression.

  “We’re early,” Brian commented. “If we go in now, he’ll be mad. Let’s walk around for a few minutes.”

  Smitty grunted. “Good idea.”

  The guard paid no special attention as they took the lucky opportunity to walk around to the opposite side of the building, where the porch looked down over the two-story building that they thought must house Cardan and his men. As they watched, a broad, powerfully built man with a frayed cigar stub clenched in the corner of his mouth opened the door at the end of the building, and nodded to someone wi
thin.

  Unnecessarily, Carl murmured, “That’s Cardan.”

  From within, a tall blond man, and a sharp-featured man with dark hair, stepped out carrying a box containing dull whitish oblongs about four inches long by three wide.

  Smitty said in a low voice, “Soap.”

  Brian caught his breath.

  Just then, there was the sound of a door closing around the corner of the building, and the Duke’s voice was low but clear.

  “My dear,” said the Duke, “I could end your resistance very easily. But I want your decision to be freely made.”

  Anne’s voice carried a trace of exasperation. “I’ve already told you my decision.”

  “But that’s the wrong decision. You don’t know what you’re trying to throw away. I offer you position which no one else in this world can offer. Don’t smile. Already I control this base and the outlying camps. I have brought peace and order to a region that would have been lost to starvation and murder. This is only the beginning. Through the entire country, there’s a crying need for peace, order and central direction. There is a need, and I supply the lack. What you see now is just the beginning of a snowball.”

  The voices were coming closer.

  Brian and his companions went quietly down the porch in the opposite direction, and were waiting outside the Duke’s office when, looking exasperated but stubborn, he walked in and was immediately all cordiality as he invited them inside and congratulated them on putting the steam engine together. He pulled aside a curtain on the wall to reveal a map of the roads and railroads of the state. The eastern part of the map was thickly crisscrossed with lines indicating tracks.

  “As of now,” said the Duke, “there are three means of rapid transportation here: horse, bicycle, and diesel truck started by compressed air. The horse has a top speed of, say, thirty-five miles an hour, and can’t sustain it for more than a few minutes. The bicycle can go fifty miles an hour downhill, and up the same hill it goes one mile an hour with the rider pushing. Neither can carry much of anything as baggage, and in a storm the rider is fully exposed to the weather. The diesel truck can go fifty or sixty miles an hour over a long distance, carrying a considerable load, but we have a certain amount of difficulty supplying suitable fuel, and this will get worse before it gets better.