Wheelworld

by Harry Harrison

  The others nodded agreement and Jan waited until the murmured comments had died away. “I’m glad we agree about that,” he said. “So now I can tell you what has happened. While you were all enjoying yourselves, the Family Heads held a meeting in secret. They had me seized and imprisoned. Then had a trial on these charges—without me being there—and found me guilty. If I had not escaped I would be dead by now because that was their verdict.”

  They heard his words with utter disbelief. Their shock was replaced with anger as the truth of the situation sank in.

  “Don’t take my word for this,” Jan said. “It is too important. Hein and the other Proctor are locked in and they’ll tell you …”

  “I don’t want to hear what Hein has to say,” Otakar shouted. “He lies too much. I believe you, Jan, we all believe you.” The others nodded agreement. “Just tell us what we have to do. People must be told, They can’t get away with this.”

  “They will,” Jan said, “Unless we stop them. Just telling people won’t be enough. Can you see any of the Taekeng standing up to the old man? No, I didn’t think so. I am willing to go on trial, I want to do it. But by the Book of the Law. In public, with all evidence heard. I want this whole thing out in the open. But the Family Heads will try to stop that. We are going to have to force them to do it.”

  “How?”

  There was silence now for they were waiting, eager to help. But would they go far enough? Jan knew instinctively that if they thought about what they were going to do they would not do it. But if they acted in unison and in anger they might do it. And once done, they would not be able to turn back. They were thinking revolutionary thoughts—now they must consider revolutionary deeds. He weighed his words.

  “Without power nothing moves. Eino, what’s the easiest way to take the engines out of service temporarily? Remove the computer programming units?”

  “Too big a job,” the engineer said, immersed in the technical problem, not considering the enormity of the crime they were discussing. “I would say pull the multiple connector plug to the controls. In fact pull the plug at both ends and take the whole cable out. Done in a couple of seconds.”

  “Fine. Then we’ll do just that. Pull them from the tanks too. Bring them to number six tank, the big one. Then we’ll wake everyone up and tell them what has happened. Make them have the trial right now. When it’s over we put the cables back and go back to work. What do you say?”

  He put no emphasis on the last question, though this was the most important decision of all. The point of no return, beyond which there was no turning back. If they realized they were taking all of the power of decision, the real power of the world, into their own hands, they might have second thoughts. A moment’s wavering and he was lost.

  They were technicians, mechanics—and never thought of it in that manner. They just wanted to right an obvious wrong.

  There were shouts of agreement, then they were busy in assigning the various tasks, getting the operation into motion. Only Hyzo Santos did not join in the excitement but sat with wide, intelligent eyes watching Jan all the while. Jan gave him no assignment, and soon he was alone with the silent communications officer. He spoke only when the others had left.

  “Do you know what you are doing, Jan?”

  “Yes. And you do too. I’m breaking all the rules and making new ones.”

  “It is more than that. Once broken, the rules will never be the same again. The Family Heads will not want to do this …”

  “They will be made to do it.”

  “I know. And I can put a word to this even if you will not. It is revolution, isn’t it?”

  After a long moment’s silence Jan spoke, looking at the other man’s grim face. “Yes, it is. Do you find the idea distasteful?”

  Hyzo’s face broke slowly into a wide grin. “Distasteful? I think it’s wonderful. It is just what should happen, what is written in Class and Labor, the Eternal Struggle.”

  “I never heard of it.”

  “I don’t think many people have. I got it from one of the ship’s crew. He said it was an invisible book, listed nowhere, but some reference copies did exist and duplicates had been made of them.”

  “You’re on dangerous ground … .”

  “I know. He said he would bring more—but I never saw him again.”

  “Easy enough to guess what happened to him. Then you are in with me on this? It will be bigger than you can possibly imagine.”

  Hyzo clasped Jan’s hand in both of his own. “All the way! Every step of the way.”

  “Good. Then you can help me with one thing. I want you to come with me to the warehouse where Hein and the other Proctor are locked up. They were ready to carry out the death sentence so they both know about the secret trial. They are our witnesses to what happened.”

  A few early risers were already stirring as they walked back to the warehouse. The street door was still ajar as Jan had left it.

  But the storeroom door was open as well and the two Proctors were gone.

  Twelve

  Jan took a quick look around; the rest of the warehouse was as empty as the storeroom.

  “Where are they?” Hyzo asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. This means trouble so we had better start it before they do. Get them off balance if we can. Come on.”

  They ran now, ignoring the startled looks, pounding heavily through the dust to the row of silent tanks. They were undisturbed. Jan slowed to a panting walk.

  “Still ahead of them,” he said. “We’ll go on as planned.”

  They climbed into tank six and started the engines. This would be the only piece of moving apparatus not incapacitated. Jan trundled it slowly down the Central Way and drew it up before the pressure dome.

  People were beginning to stir now, but the preparations to immobilize the tanks and engine still went ahead smoothly. At first the conspirators had moved guiltily, trying to avoid being noticed, until they had realized that no one paid them the slightest heed. They were just technicians going about their usual inexplicable tasks. Once they had realized this they carried the cables openly, calling out to one another with secret glee. It was all very exciting.

  Not for Jan. He sat at the tank controls staring at the screens, watching the first of the men stroll up with a set of cables; his fist, unnoticed, pounded slowly on the panel beside him. Then another technician, then a third appeared. Hyzo sat in the open hatch above and passed down the cables to Jan as they arrived.

  “That’s the lot,” he said. “What do you want us to do now?”

  “You and the others can just stay in the crowd. I think that’s best. I don’t want a confrontation or charges of conspiracy at this early stage.”

  “That’s all right for them. But you want someone to stand up there with you.”

  “You don’t have to, Hyzo … .”

  “I know. I’m volunteering. What happens next?”

  “Simple. We get the people together.”

  As he said this he punched the siren button and held it down. The banshee wail screamed out, warbled up and down piercingly. It could not be ignored. People asleep were suddenly awake; those already at work stopped what they were doing and ran toward the sound. As the Central Way began to fill, Jan turned off the siren and unclipped the bullhorn from the bulkhead. Hyzo was waiting for him on top of the tank, leaning relaxedly against the fusion gun.

  “There’s your crowd,” he said. “They’re all yours.”

  “Over here,” Jan said into the bullhorn microphone, his amplified words echoing back at him. “Over here, everyone. This is an important announcement.” He saw Taekeng appear in the door of his car and shake his fist. “Family Heads as well. Everyone. Over here.” Taekeng shook his fist again, then turned as a man hurried up and said something to him. He looked back and threw a single shocked glance at Jan, then followed the messenger towards the pressure dome.

  “Over here, everyone, up close,” Jan said, then switched off the microphone. �
�Not one Family Head here,” he said to Hyzo. “They’re planning something. What do we do?”

  “Nothing. That is nothing to start any trouble. Start issuing orders for unloading the corn for the return trip.”

  “But they’ve changed that plan. They won’t let us go back.”

  “All the better—they’ve told no one about this either Let them start trouble—here in front of everyone”

  “You’re right.” Jan turned the bullhorn back on and spoke into it. “Sorry to disturb your rest, but the party is over and we have to get back to work. We must return to get the rest of the corn.”

  There were groans from the audience at this, and a few people in the back started to shuffle away. Over their heads Jan saw Hein come out of the pressure dome and begin to push forward through the crowd. He was shouting something, his face red with the effort. There was a new gun in his holster. He could not be ignored.

  “What do you want, Hein?” Jan said.

  “You … come here … dome. At once … meeting.”

  Most of his words were lost in the crowd noises. He pushed forward angrily, waving his gun now to reinforce his authority. Jan had a sudden idea; he bent and spoke to Hyzo.

  “I want that pig up here, talking. Let everyone hear what he has to say. Get the others to help you.”

  “It’s dangerous … .”

  Jan laughed. “And this whole thing is madness. Get going.” Hyzo nodded and slipped away: Jan turned back to the bullhorn.“That is the Proctor Captain there. Let him through, please, he has something to say.”

  Hein was helped, perhaps more than he wished. He tried to stop below and shout up at Jan, but was jostled forward and before he realized it he was standing next to Jan, still holding his gun. He tried to speak quietly to Jan—who pushed the bullhorn before his lips.

  “You are to come with me. Get that thing away!” He slapped at it but Jan kept it close so that their voices boomed out over the crowd.

  “Why should I come with you?”

  “You know why!” Hein was spluttering with rage. Jan smiled back warmly—and winked at the angry man.

  “But I don’t know,” he said innocently.

  “You know. You have been tried and found guilty. Now come with me.” He brought up the gun; Jan tried to ignore the whiteness of the man’s tight knuckles.

  “What trial are you talking about?” He deliberately turned his back on Hein and spoke to the crowd. “Does anyone here know anything about a trial?”

  Some of them shook their heads no; all of them were listening attentively now. Jan swung about and pushed the bullhorn close to Hein’s mouth, watching the gun and ready to strike if the man attempted to pull the trigger, hoping he would condemn himself and the Family Heads before he did. Hein began to shout—but another voice drowned his out.

  “That will be enough, Hein. Put your gun away and get down from that machine.”

  It was The Hradil, standing in the doorway of the dome and using the PA system. It had to be her, the only one of the Family Heads with the sense to see that Hein was giving their game away for them—and the only one with the intelligence to react so quickly.

  Hein deflated like a burst balloon, the color draining from his face. He fumbled the gun back into its holster and Jan let him leave, knowing there would be no more inadvertent help from this quarter. He would have to face The Hradil and that was never an easy thing.

  “What trial was he talking about, Hradil? What did he mean I had been tried and found guilty?”

  His amplified words reached out to her over the crowd, which was silent and intent now. Her voice answered the same way.

  “He meant nothing. He is sick, a fever from his arm. The doctor is on his way.”

  “That is good. Poor man. Then there has been no trial—I am guilty of nothing?”

  The silence lengthened and he could see, even at this distance, that she wanted his death as she had wanted nothing else in her entire life. He did not move but waited like stone for her answer. It came at last.

  “No … no trial …” The words were wrung from her lips.

  “That’s very good. You are right, Hein is sick. Since there has been no trial and I am guilty of no crimes.” He had her now, she was committed in public. He must push the advantage. “All right, everyone, you have heard The Hradil. Now let’s get to work, the return trip starts as soon as possible.”

  “NO!” Her amplified voice rang out over his. “I warn you, Jan Kulozik, you have gone too far. You will be silent and obey. There will be no trip for the corn, that has been decided. You will …”

  “I will not, old woman. For the good of us all it was decided that we must go for the corn. And we will.”

  “I have ordered you.”

  She was raging now, as angry as he was, their booming voices godlike over the gaping crowd. Any appeal to law or logic was gone, any attempt to involve the spectators useless. They could not be cajoled, not now, only told. Jan reached into the turret of the tank and pulled out a length of cable and shook it in her direction.

  “I do not take your orders. All of the tanks and engines are inoperable—and will not run again until I permit it. We are going for the corn and you cannot stop us.”

  “Seize him, he is mad, kill him. I order it!”

  A few people swayed forward, reluctantly, then back as Jan reached into the hatch and fed power to the fusion gun controls. The pitted bell mouth of the gun tilted up—then burst into roaring life sending a column of flame high into the air; there were screams and shouts.

  The heat of fusion spoke louder than Jan ever could. The Hradil, her fingers raised like claws, leaned forward—then turned about. Hein was in her way and she pushed him aside and vanished through the door of the dome. The fiery roar died as Jan turned off the gun.

  “You’ve won this one,” Hyzo said, but there was no victory in his voice. “But you must watch that one every moment now. In the end it will have to be you or her.”

  “I don’t want to fight her, just change … .”

  “Change is defeat for her, you must never forget that. You cannot go back now, only ahead.”

  Jan was suddenly weary, exhausted. “Let’s get the corn unloaded. Keep people working, so they have no time to think.”

  “Hyzo,” a voice called out. “Hyzo, it’s me.” A thin, teen-aged boy climbed halfway up the tread of the tank, calling out. “Old Ledon wants to see you. Said to come at once, no waiting, very important he said.”

  “My Family Head,” Hyzo said.

  “It’s beginning.” Jan thought of the possible consequences. “See what he wants. But whatever he asks you to do come back here at once and let me know. He knows you’re with me, it must have to do with that.”

  Hyzo jumped down and followed the boy—but the engineer Elino took his place. “I’ve come for the cables,” he said. “We’ll have to unhook the family cars first … .”

  “No,” Jan said, almost unthinkingly, reacting by reflex. The cables, the immobilized vehicles, they were his only weapon. He had the feeling that great forces were already at work against him and he could not surrender that weapon now. “Wait a bit. Just pass the word to the others that we will meet here in … say, three hours. To go over unloading plans.”

  “If you say so.”

  It was a long wait and Jan felt very much alone. Through the front port he could see the people moving about; ordinary enough. But not ordinary for him. He had shaken the Family Heads up, caught them off balance, won a victory. For the moment. But could he hold onto what he had gained? There was no use in speculating. He could only work to control his impatience; sit quiet and wait to find out what their next move was going to be.

  “It’s not good,” Hyzo said, climbing down through the hatch.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Old Ledon has forbidden me to go with the trains on the second trip. Just like that.”

  “He can’t stop you.”

  “That’s right, me, but I’m just one p
erson. I know why I’m in this and what it means. I didn’t answer him, just walked out. But how many others are going to do that? Right now the Elders are calling in every one of the technicians and mechanics. They will be told what to do—and they will obey. Which leaves us with a two-man revolution and no place to go.”

  “We’re not dead yet. Stay here, sit on those cables, lock the hatch and don’t open it until I get back. Without them we’re lost.”

  “And if anyone should try to get them? One of our own men?”

  “Don’t let them have the cables. Even if …”

  “If I have to fight? Kill them?”

  “No, we’re not going that far.”

  “Why not?” Hyzo was deadly serious now. “The ends justify the means.”

  “No they don’t. Just do your best—without hurting anyone.”

  The hatch clanged shut behind Jan and he heard the dogs being driven home in the catch. He jumped down from the treads and walked steadily in the direction of the dome. The crowd had dispersed for the most part but there were still a number of people about. They looked at him with curiosity—but turned away when he caught their eyes. They were passive, trained to accept orders, they would be no problem. It was the Elders he would have to deal with.

  There were no Proctors at the entrance, which was a help; he wanted no trouble with them. Jan pushed the door open quietly and stood just inside it. They were there, all the Family Heads, too busy shouting at each other to notice him yet. He listened.

  “Kill them all, that’s the only answer!” Taekeng’s voice was cracking; he must have screamed himself hoarse.

  “You’re a fool,” The Hradil said. “We must have the trained men to run the machinery. We must order them to obey us and they will do it. That is enough for now. Later when he is dead, they will be punished, one by one, we will not forget.”

  “No one will be punished,” Jan said, striding forward, as calm as they were angry. “You stupid people just will not realize the kind of trouble we are in. If the ships don’t arrive we don’t get replacement parts or fuel. Our tanks and engines will be knocked out one by one and then we will all be dead. If the ships come they will need all the corn we can possibly get together. They will need it for starving people—and we need it as the only weapon …”