The Return Read online

  VII

  Tenant Mycroft Jones, Reader Stamford Rawson, Toon Sarge VernerHughes, and his son, Murray Hughes, sat around the bare-toppedtable in the room on the second floor of the Aitch-Cue House. Alighted candle flickered in the cool breeze that came in throughthe open window, throwing their shadows back and forth on thewalls.

  "Pass the tantalus, Murray," the Tenant said, and the youngest ofthe four handed the corncob-corked bottle to the eldest. TenantJones filled his cup and then sat staring at it, while VernerHughes thrust his pipe into the toe of the moccasin and filledit. Finally, the Tenant drank about half the clear, wild-plumbrandy.

  "Gentlemen, I am baffled," he confessed. "We have three alternatepossibilities here and we dare not disregard any of them.

  "Either this man who calls himself Altamont is truly He, or hisis merely what we are asked to believe, one of a community of menlike ours, with more of the old knowledge than we possess."

  "You know my views," Verner Hughes said. "I cannot believe thatHe was more than a man, as we are. A great, a good, a wise man,but a man and mortal."

  "Let's not go into that, now." The Reader emptied his cup andtook the bottle, filling it again. "You know my views, too. Ihold that He is no longer upon earth in the flesh, but lives inthe spirit and is only with us in the spirit.

  "But you said there were three possibilities, none of which canbe eliminated. What was your third possibility, Tenant?"

  "That they are creatures of the Enemy, perhaps that one or theother of them is the Enemy."

  Reader Rawson, lifting his cup to his lips, almost strangled. TheHugheses, father and son stared at Tenant Jones in horror.

  "The Enemy--with such weapons and resources!" Murray Hughesgasped. Then he emptied his cup and refilled it. "No! I can'tbelieve that: he would have struck before this and wiped us allout!"

  "Not necessarily, Murray," the Tenant replied. "Until he becameconvinced that his agents, the Scowrers, could do nothingagainst us, he would bide his time. He sits motionless, like aspider, at the center of the web; he does little himself; hisagents are numerous.

  "Or, perhaps, he wishes to recruit us into this hellishorganization."

  "It is a possibility," the Reader admitted, "and one which we canneither accept or reject safely. And we must learn the truth assoon as possible. If this man is really He, we must not spurn Himon mere suspicion. If he is a man, come to help us, we mustaccept his help; if he is speaking the truth, the people who senthim could do wonders for us, and the greatest wonder would be tomake us again a part of a civilized community.

  "And if he is the Enemy...." Rawson left the sentence unfinished,but his face was grim.

  "But if he is really He," Murray said, a little diffidently, forhe was not yet accustomed to being included in the council of theelders, "I think we are on trial."

  "What do you mean, son? Oh, I see. Of course, I don't believethat he is, but that's mere doubt, not negative certainty.However, if I'm wrong, if this man is truly He, we are worthy ofhim, we will penetrate his disguise."

  "A very pretty problem, gentlemen," the Tenant said, smacking hislips over his brandy, "for all that it may be a deadly seriousone for us. There is, of course, nothing we can do tonight. But,tomorrow, we have promised to help our visitors, whoever they maybe, in searching for this crypt in the city.

  "Murray, you were to be in charge of the detail that was toaccompany them. Carry on as arranged, and say nothing of oursuspicions, but advise your men to keep a sharp watch on thestrangers, that they may learn all they can from them.

  "Stamford, you and Verner and I will go along. We should, if wehave any wits at all, observe something."

  VIII

  "Listen to this infernal thing!" Altamont raged. "'Wielding agold-plated spade handled with oak from an original rafter of theCongressional Library, at three-fifteen one afternoon lastweek--' One afternoon last week!" He cursed luridly. "Whycouldn't that blasted magazine say what afternoon? I've gone overa lot of twentieth century copies of that magazine and thatexpression was a regular cliche with them."

  Loudons looked over his shoulder at the photostated magazinepage.

  "Well, we know it was between June thirteen and nineteen,inclusive," he said. "And there's a picture of the universitypresident, complete with gold-plated spade, breaking ground. Callit Wednesday, the sixteenth. Over there's the tip of the shadowof the old Cathedral of Learning, about a hundred yards away.There are so many inexactitudes, that one'll probably cancel outthe other."

  "That's so, and it's also pretty futile getting angry at somebodywho's been dead two hundred years, but why couldn't they sayWednesday, or Monday, or Saturday, or whatever?"

  Monty checked back in the astronomical handbook, and thephotostated pages of the old almanac, then looked over hiscalculations. "All right, here is the angle of the shadow, andthe compass-bearing.

  "I had a look, yesterday, when I was taking the local citizenryon that junket. The old baseball diamond at Forbes Field isplainly visible, and I located the ruins of the Cathedral ofLearning from that.

  "Here's the above-sea-level altitude of the top of the tower.After you've landed us, go up to this altitude--use thebarometric altimeter, not the radar--and hold position."

  Loudons leaned forward from the desk to the contraption Altamonthad rigged up in the nose of the helicopter; one of thetelescope-sighted hunting rifles clamped in a vise, with acompass and a spirit-level under it.

  "Rifle's pointing downward at the correct angle now?" he asked."Good. Then all I have to do is to hold the helicopter steady,keep it at the right altitude, level and pointed in the rightdirection, and watch through the sight while you move the flagaround, and direct you by radio."

  "Simple, if I had been born quintuplets!"

  "Mr. Altamont! Doctor Loudons!" a voice outside the helicoptercalled. "Are you ready for us now?"

  Altamont went to the open door and looked out. The old ToonLeader, the Reader, Toon Sarge Hughes, his son and four young menin buckskins with slung rifles were standing outside.

  "I have decided," the Tenant said, "that Mr. Rawson and SargeHughes and I would be of more help than an equal number of youngmen. We may not be as active, but we do know the old ruinsbetter, especially the paths and hiding places of the Scowrers.These four young men you probably met last evening, but it willdo no harm to introduce them again.

  "Birdy Edwards; Sholto Jiminez; Jefferson Burns; Murdo Olsen."

  "Very pleased, Tenant, gentlemen. I met all of you young men lastevening and I remember you," Altamont said. "Now, if you'll crowdin here, I'll explain what we're going to try to do."

  He showed them the old picture. "You see where the shadow of atall building falls?" he asked. "We know the height and locationof this building. Doctor Loudons will hold this helicopter atexactly the position of the top of the building and aim throughthe sights of the rifle, there. One of you will have this flag inhis hand, and will move it back and forth. Doctor Loudons willtell us when the flag is in sight of the rifle."

  "He'll need a good pair of lungs to do that," Verner Hughescommented.

  "We'll use the radio. A portable set on the ground, and thehelicopter's radio set," Altamont said.

  To his surprise, he was met with looks of incomprehension. He hadnot supposed that these people would have lost all memory ofradio communication.

  "Why, that's wonderful!" the Reader exclaimed, when theexplanation was concluded. "You can talk directly. How muchbetter than just sending a telegram!"

  "But, finding the crypt by the shadow, that's exactly like the--"Murray Hughes began, then stopped short. Immediately, he begantalking about the rifle that was to be used as a surveyingtransit, comparing it with the ones in the big first-floor roomat the Aitch-Cue House.

  Locating the point where the shadow of the old Cathedral ofLearning had fallen proved easier than either Altamont or Loudonshad expected. The towering building was now a tumbled mass ofslagged rubble, but it was quite possible to determine itsoriginal center, and with
the old data from the excellentreference library at Fort Ridgeway, its height above sea levelwas known. After a little jockeying, the helicopter came to ahovering stop, and the slanting barrel of the rifle in the visepointed downward along the line of the shadow that had been caston that afternoon in June, 1993.

  The cross-hairs of the scope sight centered almost exactly on thespot Altamont had estimated on the map.

  Guiding himself by peering through the rifle-sight, Loudonsbrought the helicopter slanting down to land on the sheet offused glass that had once been a grassy campus.

  "Well, this is probably it," Altamont said. "We didn't have tobother fussing around with that flag after all. That hump overthere looks as though it had been a small building, and there'snothing corresponding to it on the city map. That may be thebunker over the stair-head to the crypt."

  They began unloading equipment--a small, portablenuclear-electric conversion unit, a powerful solenoid-hammer,crowbars and intrenching tools, tins of blasting plastic. Theytook out the two hunting rifles and the auto-carbines, andAltamont showed the young men of Murray Hughes' detail how to usethem.

  "If you will pardon me, sir," the Tenant said to Altamont, "Ithink it would be a good idea if your companion went up in theflying machine and circled over us, to keep watch for theScowrers. There are quite a few of them, particularly farther upthe rivers, to the east, where the damage was not so great andthey can find cellars and shelters and buildings to live in."

  "Good idea. That way, we won't have to put out guards," Altamontsaid. "From the looks of this, we'll need every body to help diginto that thing. Hand out one of the portable radios, Jim and goup to about a thousand feet. If you see anything suspicious, giveus a yell, then spray it with bullets, and find out what it isafterward."

  They waited until the helicopter had climbed to position and wascircling above, and then turned their attention to the placewhere the sheet of fused earth and stone bulged upward. It musthave been almost ground-zero of one of the hydrogen-bombs: thewreckage of the Cathedral of Learning had fallen predominantly tothe north, and the Carnegie Library was tumbled to the east.

  "I think the entrance would be on this side, toward the Library,"Altamont said. "Let's try it, to begin with."

  He used the solenoid-hammer, slowly pounding a hole in the glaze,and placed a small charge of the plastic explosive. Chunks of thelava-like stuff pelted down between the little mound and the hugeone of the old library, blowing a hole six feet in diameter andthe two and a half feet deep, revealing concrete bonded withcrushed steel-mill slag.

  "We missed the door," Altamont said. "That means we'll have totunnel in through who knows how much concrete. Well...."

  He used a second and larger charge, after digging a hole a footdeep. When he and his helpers came up to look, they found a largemass of concrete blown out, and solid steel behind it. Altamontcut two more holes, one on either side of the blown-out place,and fired a charge in each of them, bringing down more concrete.

  He found he hadn't missed the door after all. It had merely beenconcreted over.

  A few more shots cleared it, and after some work, they got itopen. There was a room inside, concrete-floored and entirelyempty. Altamont stood in the doorway and inspected the interiorwith his flashlight; he heard somebody behind him say somethingabout a most peculiar sort of dark-lantern.

  Across the small room, on the opposite wall, was a bronze plaque.

  The plaque carried quite a lengthy inscription, including thenames of all the persons and institutions participating in themicrofilm project. The History Department at the Fort would beinterested in that, but the only thing that interested Altamontwas the statement that the floor had been laid over the trapdoorleading to the vault where the microfilms were stored. He wentoutside to the radio.

  "Hello, Jim. We're inside, but the films were stored in anunderground vault, and so we have to tear up a concrete floor,"he said. "Go back to the village and gather up all the men youcan carry. I don't want to use explosives inside. The interior ofthe crypt oughtn't to be damaged. Besides, I don't know what ablast in there might do to the film, and I don't want to take anychances."

  "No, of course not. How thick do you think the floor is?"

  "Haven't the least idea. Plenty thick, I would guess. Those filmswould have to be well-buried, to shield them from radioactivity.We can expect that it will take some time."

  "All right. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  The helicopter turned and went windmilling away, over what hadbeen the Golden Triangle, down the Ohio. Altamont went back tothe little concrete bunker and sat down, lighting his pipe.Murray Hughes and his four riflemen spread out, one circlingaround the glazed butte that had been the Cathedral of Learning,another climbing to the top of the old Library, and the otherstaking positions to the south and east.

  Altamont sat in silence, smoking his pipe and trying to form someconception of the wealth under that concrete floor.

  It was no use.

  Jim Loudons probably understood a little more clearly what thosebooks would mean to the world of today, and what they could dotoward shaping the world of the future.

  There was a library at Fort Ridgeway, and it was an excellent one ...for its purpose. In 1996, when the rockets had come crashingdown, it had contained the cream of the world's technicalknowledge--and very little else. There was only a little fiction,a few books of ideas, just enough to give the survivors atantalizing glimpse of the world of their fathers.

  But now....

  * * * * *

  A rifle banged to the south and east, and banged again. EitherMurray Hughes or Birdy Edwards: it was one of the two huntingrifles from the helicopter.

  On the heels of the reports, they heard a voice shouting,"Scowrers! A lot of them, coming from up the river!"

  A moment later, there was a light whip-crack of one of themuzzleloaders, from the top of the old Carnegie Library, andAltamont could see a wisp of grey-white smoke drifting away fromwhere it had been fired.

  Altamont jumped to his feet and raced for the radio, picking itup and bring it to the bunker.

  Tenant Jones, old Reader Rawson, and Verner Hughes had caught uptheir rifles. The Tenant was shouting. "Come on in! Everybody,come on in!"

  The boy on top of the library began scrambling down. Another camerunning from the direction of the half-demolished Cathedral ofLearning, a third from the baseball field that had served asAltamont's point of reference the afternoon before.

  The fourth, Murray Hughes, was running in from the ruins of theold Carnegie Tech buildings, and Birdy Edwards sped up the mainroad from Schenley Park. Once, twice, as he ran, Murray Hughespaused, turned, and fired behind him.

  Then his pursuers came into sight!

  They ran erect, they wore a few rags of skin garments, and theycarried spears and hatchets and clubs, so they were probablyclassifiable as men. But their hair was long and unkempt, andtheir bodies were almost black with dirt and from the sun. A fewof them were yelling, but most of them ran silently. They ranmore swiftly than the boy they were pursuing: the distancebetween them narrowed every moment. There were at least fifty ofthem.

  Verner Hughes' rifle barked, one of them dropped. As cooly asthough he were shooting squirrels instead of his son's pursuers,he dropped the butt of the rifle to the ground, poured a chargeof powder, patched a ball and rammed it home, replaced theramrod. Tenant Jones fired then, and Birdy Edwards joined them,beginning to shoot with the telescope-sighted rifle.

  The young man who had been north of the Cathedral of Learning hadone of the auto-carbines; luckily, Altamont had providently setthe control for semi-auto before giving it to him. He dropped toone knee and began to empty the clip, shooting slowly anddeliberately, picking off the runners who were in the lead.

  The boy who had started to climb down off the Library halted,fired his flintlock, and began reloading it.

  Altamont, sitting down and propping his elbows on his knees, tookboth hands to the automat
ic which was his only weapon, emptyingthe magazine and replacing it. The last three savages he shot inthe back: they had had enough and were running for their lives.

  So far, everybody was safe. The boy in the Library came downthrough a place where the wall had fallen. Murray Hughes stoppedrunning and came slowly toward the bunker, putting a fresh clipinto his rifle. The others came drifting in.

  * * * * *

  "Altamont, calling Loudons," the scientist from Fort Ridgeway wassaying into the radio. "Monty to Jim: can you hear me?"

  Silence.

  "We'd better get ready for another attack," Birdy Edwards said."There's another gang coming from down that way. I never saw somany Scowrers!"

  "Maybe there's a reason, Birdy," Tenant Jones said. "The Enemy isafter big game, this time."

  "Jim, where the devil are you?" Altamont fairly yelled into theradio; and as he did, he knew the answer. Loudons was in thevillage, away from the helicopter, gathering tools and workers.

  Nothing to do but keep on trying!

  "Here they come!" Reader Rawson warned.

  "How far can these rifles be depended on?" Birdy Edwards wantedto know.

  Altamont straightened, saw the second band of savages approachingabout four hundred yards away.

  "Start shooting now," he said. "Aim for the upper part of theirbodies."

  The two auto-loading rifles began to crack. After the first fewshots, the savages took cover. Evidently they understood thecapabilities and limitations of the villagers' flintlocks, butthis was a terrifying surprise to them.

  "Jim!"--Altamont was almost praying into the radio--"Come in,Jim!"

  "What is it, Monty? I was outside."

  Altamont told him.

  "Those fellows you had up with you yesterday, think they couldbe trusted to handle the guns? A couple of them are here withme," Loudons inquired.

  "Take a chance on it! It won't cost anything but my life, andthat's not worth much at the present."

  "All right, hold on. We'll be there in a few minutes."

  "Loudons is bringing the helicopter," Altamont told the others."All we have to do is to hold on, here, until he comes."

  A naked savage raised his head from behind what might, twohundred years ago, have been a cement park-bench and he was onlya hundred yards away. Reader Rawson promptly killed him and beganreloading.

  "I think you're right, Tenant," he said. "The Scowrers have neverattacked in bands like this before. They must have a powerfulreason and I can think of only one."

  "That's what I'm beginning to think, too," Verner Hughes agreed."At least, we've eliminated the third of your possibilities,Tenant. And I think probably the second, as well."

  Altamont wondered what they were double-talking about. Therewasn't any particular mystery about the mass attack of the wildmen to him.

  Debased as they were, they still possessed speech and the abilityto transmit experiences. No matter how beclouded in superstition,they still remembered that aircraft dropped bombs, and bombskilled people, and where people had been killed, they would findfresh meat. They had seen the helicopter circling about, and hadheard the blasting: everyone in the area had been drawn to thescene as soon as Loudons had gone down the river.

  But they seemed to have forgotten that aircraft carried guns,although they did spring to their feet and start to run at thereturn of the helicopter.

  However, most of them did not run far.

  IX

  Altamont and Loudons shook hands many times in front of theAitch-Cue House, and listened to many good wishes, and repeatedtheir promise to return. Most of the microfilmed books were to bestored in the old church. They were taking with them only thecatalogue and a few of the most important works. Finally, theyentered the helicopter. The crowd shouted farewell as they rose.

  Altamont, at the controls, waited until they had gained fivethousand feet, then turned on a compass-course for Colony Three.

  "I can't wait until we're in radio range of the Fort, Jim. Thisis one report that I really want to make," he said.

  "Of all the wonderful luck!" he went on. "And I don't know whichis the more important: finding those books, or finding thosepeople. In a few years, when we can get them supplied with modernequipment and instructed in its use--

  "What's the matter, Jim? You should be even more excited than Iam."

  "I'm not very happy about this, Monty," Loudons confessed. "Ikeep thinking about what's going to happen to them."

  "Why, nothing's going to happen to them. They're going to begiven the means of producing more food, keeping more of themalive, giving them more leisure to develop themselves in--"

  "Monty, I saw the Sacred Books."

  "The deuce! What were they?"

  "It. One volume. A collection of works. We have it at the Fortand I've read it. How I ever missed all those clues--"

  "You see, Monty, what I'm worried about is what's going to happento those people when they find out that we're not really SherlockHolmes and Doctor Watson...."

  * * * * *