Wheelworld

by Harry Harrison

  Alzbeta shook her head and smiled. “It is a little hard to understand.”

  “There is something a little bit like it on this planet. At the edge of the twilight zone there are life forms that have adapted to the cooler evironment. They have their ecological niche there and make out fine until summer returns. When it does, all this burgeoning hot-zone life will probably rush in and make a meal of the cooler-adapted forms. Everything out there is eat and be eaten, so the competition for a new food source must be something fierce.”

  “But you can’t be sure … .”

  “I’m not sure—and I also hope that I am wrong about it. Just cross your fingers and hope that our luck holds out.”

  It didn’t. At first the change seemed innocent enough, just a little incidental traffic slaughter of no real importance. Only Alzbeta seemed put out by it.

  “The animals, they don’t seem to know about machines. They just come out onto the Road and are run over, crushed.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it. Don’t look if it bothers you.”

  “I must look. That is part of my job. But those little greenish things with the orange bands, there seem to be a lot of them, coming out of the jungle.”

  Jan noticed them now, first individuals, then groups, more and more of them. They were like obscene parodies of terrestrial frogs that had grown big as cats. A ripple of movement seemed to go over them as they advanced with a jerking, hopping motion.

  “A migration, maybe,” he said. “Or they could be chased by something. It’s messy—but they can’t hurt us.”

  Or can they? As he spoke the words, Jan felt a sudden disquiet. The edge of a memory. What was it? But any doubts at all called for caution. He switched off the speed control and let off on the accelerator, then turned on the microphone.

  “Leader to all trains. Decrease speed by 20 K’s now!”

  “What’s wrong?” Alzbeta asked.

  The Road was becoming almost invisible, covered by the creatures that thronged across it, oblivious of the deadly wheels rushing towards them.

  “Of course!” Jan shouted into the microphone. “All drivers stop, stop. But don’t use your brakes. Ease off on the power, power down to zero, but watch your coupling pressure gauges or you’ll jackknife. Repeat. Slow without braking, watch your coupling pressure, watch your nose radar for the train ahead of you.”

  “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Eino called in from the engine compartment.

  “Animals of some kind, covering the Road, thousands of them, we’re running them down, crushing them … .”

  Jan broke off as the engine lurched sideways, then he lashed out his hand to cut off the automatic steering, and clutched at the steering wheel.

  “It’s like driving on ice … no friction … the wheels are beginning to slide on the bodies.”

  And the cars were beginning to go too. In the monitor screens Jan saw that the whole train was beginning to wriggle like a snake as the cars skidded and the steering computer fought to keep them following in a straight line.

  “Get the computer out of your steering circuits,” Jan ordered the other drivers, throwing the switch himself at the same time. A touch of power pulled ahead on the train and stopped the weaving for the moment. He dropped the speed again, slowly, slowly, plunging on into the solid wall of bodies.

  “Jan, look ahead!”

  Alzbeta’s cry alerted him and he saw that the Road, straight until now, began to curve ahead in a shallow bend. An easy curve—normally. But what would happen now with the road surface as slick as oil?

  The speed was dropping—but not fast enough. They were down to 50 and still dropping. And the curve began.

  Jan still had the steering on manual, but he had to switch the computer back on so the cars of the train would track correctly behind him. A touch of the wheel, then center it. The shallowest curve he could make, starting from the inside of the bend and drifting slowly to the outside. Halfway through now, almost to the edge. Speed down to 40 … 35. A bit more on wheel. Going all right. If he could hold it there.

  A quick look at the screens showed the cars snaking slightly, but following in his course. Almost through. There was a sudden bumping as they ran over the charred tree limbs where the tanks had cleared the surface. Good. This would add some friction. Just beyond the edge of the Road was the jungle, a sharp bank and what looked like water or swamp.

  “The creatures on the Road, there seem to be less of them,” Alzbeta said. “They’re coming in groups now, fewer of them.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Jan felt, for the first time, the soreness in his hands where he had grappled the steering wheel. “Doing 10 K’s now, cars tracking well.”

  “I can’t hold it!”

  The words burst from the speaker, a cry of despair.

  “Who are you? Identify!” Jan shouted into the mike.

  “Train two … jackknifing … have full brakes, still sliding … the EDGE!”

  Jan eased his own train to a stop, automatically, scarcely aware, listening to the scream of pain. The crashing, breaking sounds. Then silence.

  “All trains stop,” Jan ordered. “Report only if you are in trouble. Report.”

  There was the hiss of static, nothing else.

  “Train two, can you hear me? Come in two, report.” Just silence. Nothing. “Train three, are you stopped?” This time there was an answer.

  “Three here. Stopped okay. No problems. Creatures still crossing the Road. There’s a great trail of crushed bodies and blood ahead … .”

  “That’s enough, three. Start up, minimum speed ahead. Report as soon as you have train two in sight.” Jan thumbed the switch to internal. “Hyzo, can you raise train two at all?”

  “I’m trying,” the communications officer answered. “No signal from the engine. Chun Taekeng has his own radio on the train but he’s not answering.”

  “Keep trying … .”

  “Hold it. A signal here, I’ll put it on.”

  The voice was gasping, frightened. “ … what happened. People hurt when we stopped. Send the doctor … .”

  “This is the Trainmaster. Who is speaking?”

  “Jan? Lee Ciou here. We had a panic stop and people are hurt … .”

  “More important, Lee. Are you still airtight—and is the air conditioning working?”

  “As far as I know. And I hope we’re not holed because the ground outside is covered with creatures of some kind. They’re crawling over the cars, the windows.”

  “They can’t hurt you as long as they can’t get in. Get a report from both cars and get back to me as soon as you can. Over and out.”

  Jan sat stiffly, locked in concentration, staring unseeingly at the front port, his fist tapping heavily on the steering wheel. The train jackknifed—but power still on. So the engine generator must still be functioning. If so—then why couldn’t they contact the crew? What had taken the radio out of circuit? He couldn’t imagine what could have happened, but one thing was certain: he would need help to straighten out the mess. And he had already wasted precious minutes not calling for it.

  “Hyzo,” he shouted into the intercom. “Contact the tanks now. Tell them we’ve had train trouble and we will probably need some muscle to get out of it. I want the two biggest tanks with plenty of cable. Get them started back this way now at top speed.”

  “Done. I’ve got train three on the circuit.”

  “Put them through.”

  “I have train two in sight ahead. Cars all over the Road, some even into the jungle. I’ve stopped now, just behind the last car.”

  “Can you see the engine?”

  “Negative.”

  “Any chance of your getting by with your train?”

  “Absolutely none. This thing is a mess! I’ve never seen …”

  “Over and out.”

  Hyzo, the communications officer, came onto the circuit as soon as Jan had killed it.

  “I’ve got Lee Ciou in train two back on.
Here he is.”

  “Jan, can you hear me? Jan …”

  “What did you find out, Lee?”

  “I’ve talked to the other car. They’re shouting a lot and don’t make sense, but I don’t think anyone’s dead. Yet. The car has some broken windows, but Chun Taekeng is taking over evacuation to this car. More important, I’ve got through to the engineer on the internal phone circuit.”

  “Did he tell you what’s wrong?”

  “It’s very bad. I’ve patched you through to him on the radio circuit”

  “All right. Vilho, are you there? Vilho Heikki, come in.”

  The radio sputtered and crackled, and a distant voice was audible through the static.

  “Jan … there’s been a crackup. I was in the engine room when we started sliding all over the Road. I heard Turtu shouting something—then we hit. Something real solid. Then the water, and Arma …”

  “Vilho, I’m losing you. Can you talk louder?”

  “Real bad crackup. I started up the ladder when I saw the water. It was coming through the hatch. Maybe I should have got them out. But they didn’t answer … the water was coming in. So I slammed and sealed the hatch lid … .”

  “You did the right thing. You had the rest of the train to think about.”

  “Yes, I know … but Arma Nevalainen … she was co-driver.”

  There was no time for Jan to think about it. That his plan for the women to help drive had just killed one of them. He must think only of the others still in danger aboard the train.

  “Are you holding power, Vilho?”

  “So far in the green. The engine is tilted forward at a sharp angle. We must have nose-dived into the swamp. All the driver’s controls, the radio, are knocked out. But the generator is still turning over, cooling fins topside must still be out of water, and I can supply train power from here. For a little while more …”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Air conditioning is out in here too. Temperature going up pretty fast.”

  “Hold on. I’ll get you out as fast as I can.”

  “What are you doing?” Alzbeta called after Jan.

  “The only thing possible. You’re in charge until I get back. Any problems, Hyzo will help you. When the tanks arrive direct them to the engine of train two and I’ll meet them there.”

  While Jan climbed into a coldsuit, Eino made a tight bundle of a second suit.

  “You should let me go, Jan,” he said.

  “No. Keep the power up. I have to see what can be done back there.”

  He exited as fast as he could through the rear door of the engine room and heard it slam shut behind him as Eino shut out the burning air. Without haste—but without any waste motion—Jan unshipped the Cycle from its housing, strapped the coldsuit into place, then lowered it onto the Road. Only then did he realize the sickening nature of the surface.

  It was a charnel house behind the engine. The alien creatures had been crushed, smeared, destroyed. A few maimed survivors, still driven by some unknown urge, were struggling painfully toward the jungle. The thick blue flesh and blood of the others coated the road. It was bearable just behind the engine, but when he swung aboard the cycle and started back past the row of stationary cars it quickly became worse. The wide wheels had worked appalling destruction. Where the cars had skidded, great smears of crushed bodies coated the surface. Finally he had to steer to the inside of the curve of the Road, skirting the burned areas, to find enough surface to ride upon. It was dangerous here, but there was no other way to get by the carnage. Very slowly he went past the train and back into the bend in the Road.

  Something very large, clawed and deadly, lurched out of the jungle toward him.

  Jan had only a glimpse as it reared up; he threw full power into the rheostats and the cycle screeched forward, pulling away from the creature, skidding wildly as it bumped over the recent corpses. Jan fought for control, skidding his boots through the slippery muck, risking a quick look back over his shoulder. He slowed. The beast was feasting on the crushed bodies and seemed to have forgotten him.

  Train two was ahead; a frightening sight. The cars were jackknifed over the entire width of the Road and into the jungle on both sides. The engine was over the edge and nose down in the swamp.

  The destruction on the Road was forgotten now as Jan threaded his way toward the engine. The cause of the tragedy was instantly apparent. A great tree had been burned, then dozed off the Road. It had stopped the engine from plunging headlong into the water. But in stopping it, a thick, broken branch had punched through the armored glass of the front port. It had been a quick death for the drivers.

  It would not be easy to pull that dead weight from the muck of the swamp. That would come later. Vilho had to be taken to safety first. Jan stopped behind the engine, then climbed carefully up the cables with the coldsuit bundled under his arm. He could feel the burn of the metal even through his thick gloves and wondered if the engineer was still alive inside. It was time to find out. He flipped up the lid of the phone next to the rear entrance and shouted into it.

  “Vilho, can you hear me? Vilho, come in.”

  He had to do this twice before a weak voice rustled back.

  “Hot … burning … can’t breathe.”

  “It’s going to get a lot hotter if you don’t do as I say. I can’t open this door so you must have sealed it from the inside. Vilho, you have to unlock it It’s out of water. Let me know when that’s done.”

  There was slow scraping inside and an endless time seemed to pass before the trapped engineer spoke again.

  “Its open … Jan.”

  “Then you’re almost out of this. Get as far from the door as you can. I’m going to come through fast and close it behind me. I have a coldsuit for you. Once you get into it you’ll be okay. I’m going to count five, then I’m coming in.”

  As he said five, Jan kicked the door open and dropped through it, throwing the coldsuit before him. It was much harder to close the heavy metal door because of the angle, but he managed to brace his feet against the engine mount and heave with his shoulders. It thudded shut. Vilho was huddled against the far wall, unmoving. His eyes opened when Jan pulled at him and he made feeble movements to help as Jan slid the thick suit up over his legs. Arms in, helmet on, front sealed, full cooling strength on. As the cool air poured over him the engineer smiled up at Jan through the faceplate and raised a weak thumb.

  “Thought I was cooked for sure. Thanks …”

  “Thanks to you, everyone on the train is still alive. Will the engine keep supplying them with current?”

  “No problem there. I checked it out and set it on automatic before the heat got me. It’s a rugged beast.”

  “Then we may get out of this in one piece yet. The tanks are on their way now. Let’s find the car with Lee Ciou in it and see what is happening. He’s in radio contact with my engine.”

  “That’ll be number six in line.”

  They walked back down the train, stepping over the rapidly decomposing corpses of the beasts that had caused the trouble. Although the cars were across the Road at all angles the couplings and connections still seemed sound; tribute to the long-dead engineers who had designed them. The people inside waved excitedly when they saw them and they smiled and waved back The angry face of Chun Taekeng appeared in one of the windows, mouth working with unheard curses. He shook his fist at them and grew even more infuriated when Jan waved back and smiled at him. Vilho switched on the outside phone when they reached the door and they buzzed and shouted into it for a number of minutes before someone inside went to fetch Lee Ciou.

  “Jan here. Can you hear me, Lee?”

  “Is that Vilho with you? Then the drivers …?”

  “Dead. Probably instantly. How are the people in the train?”

  “Better than we thought at first. A couple of broken bones the worst that happened. The damaged car has been evacuated and sealed off. Chun Taekeng has some strong complaints to make … .”

/>   “I can imagine. He waved to us on the way back here. What about the tanks?”

  “Due any minute now, I think.”

  Then we may still get out of this, get these people out of here alive, Jan thought to himself. Though it wouldn’t be easy. Two dead. The drivers would have to be replaced. How could the front port be mended? There was so much to do. And fatigue was grabbing at him again, fighting to pull him down.

  Nine

  By the time the two tanks came rumbling up, Jan had his salvage plan made and the preparations begun. He waved them to a stop, leaned his almost discharged cycle against the scarred metal treads of the first one, then climbed slowly and wearily up into the cab. For the first time in hours he opened the helmet of his coldsuit and breathed deeply of the cool air.

  “A real mess,” Lajos said, looking out at the crippled train.

  “Cold water, a bucketful,” Jan said, and didn’t speak again until he had drained over a liter of the lifesaving fluid. “It could have been a lot worse. Two dead, that’s all. Now let’s see that the living stay that way. Give me that pad and I’ll show you what we’re going to do.”

  He quickly sketched out the foundered tank and the first cars of the train, then tapped the car with his stylo.

  “We’ll have to disconnect all the power here, and that’s being taken care of right now. The engine of train three is nosed up to the last car of this train and I have been back there jury-rigging connections. There’s more than enough power for both trains. Right now Vilho is down there disconnecting the power and communication lines, but not uncoupling from the train yet. From the angle of the engine, I think that the weight of the train is the only thing keeping it from nose-diving into the swamp. Now I want you to get two 500-tonne breaking-strain cables from this tank to the engine, attach them, here and here. Then back up just enough to get them really taut and lock your treads. When that’s done we can uncouple the train, and the other tank can pull the cars far enough away to give us access. We then get two more cables onto the engine, both tanks tighten up, and on the given signal we pull her out of there.”