Page 12 of The Buttoned Sky


  CHAPTER XII

  The gods have looked upon the Mink, And felt his mighty hand; They've sought him through the mines and towns, And in the forest land.

  All-wise, all-powerful though they be, The Mink they cannot find; Afar he's wandering o'er the earth, At war for all mankind.

  --Ruck's Ballad of the Mink

  "Read it again," said Revel, bending his scarred face beside the girl'ssleek one, staring hard at the printing as if by concentration on it hecould learn to read right there, and drag the hidden meaning from thewords. "Read slowly. Rack, you're no slouch at thought, even though youhave been in the toils of the false gods. Give this your best brainwork.Jerran, concentrate! You three men, try to cull the sense from thesewords. Begin!"

  In the light of half a dozen lanterns she began to read. The Minkstrained all his brains.

  "_Man of the 21st century: John R. Klapham, atomic physicist and leaderof the Ninth Expedition against the Tartarian Forces in the year 2054.Held in suspended animation._"

  "Ha! I thought that's where you got the phrase," said Revel. "I believeit means that in this chest, and thank Orbs it was too heavy for thegentry to move today, in this very chest lies a man of the AncientKingdom, who still lives, though he sleeps!"

  The woman looked up excitedly, then began to read again. Most of thewords were strange. "Placed here 10-5-2084, aged 64 years; this donevoluntarily and as a public service to the men of the future, as part ofthe program of living interments inaugurated in 2067."

  "Living interments," repeated Rack heavily. "Buried alive. But you thinkhe still lives?"

  "I think so. Don't ask me why I simply do. The words burn my brain."

  "What are the numbers?" asked a miner. "2067, the year 2054--what arethey?"

  "I don't know. Go on, Nirea."

  "Instructions for opening the casket: spring back the locks along eachbottom edge." She felt the chest where it rested on six legs on thefloor. "Here are odd-shaped things--ooh!" She jerked her hand away."They leap at me!"

  Revel felt impatiently, said, "Those are the locks." He unsnappedfourteen altogether. "What next?"

  "Run a knife along the seal two inches below the top."

  "Here's the seal," said Rack. He took his pick, and thrusting the pointof it into a soft metal strip that ran around the chest, tore it awaywith one long hard tug. The Mink finished the job on sides and back;"Read!" he said.

  "Lift off the top." She glanced at Revel. "This is almost exactly likeOrbish," she said. "Only those queer words--"

  "Philosophize in the corner," he said, pushing her aside. "Rack, lend meyour brawn." Together they lifted the top, which was about the weight ofa woods lion, and with much groaning and puffing, hurled it clear.

  * * * * *

  Below them, within the chest and under a sheet of the transparent stuffthey had seen in other parts of the cave, lay a man. He wasyoung-looking, though if Revel understood the words on the chest, he hadbeen sixty-four when he was hidden away here. His skin was brown,smooth, and his closed eyes were unwrinkled. A short oddly-cut beard ofbrindled gray and black fringed his chin. His hands, folded on thechest, were big and sinewy, fighter's hands.

  "What now?" panted Revel.

  "Provided that the atmosphere is still a mixture of 21 parts oxygen to78 parts nitrogen, with 1% made of small amounts of the gases neon,helium, krypton--none of these words make sense."

  "Skip them, then. Find something that does."

  "Let's see ... swing the front of the casket up, and unhinge it so thatit comes off." They figured out what was meant, and did it. The front ofthe metal case, very light compared with the top, fell with a clang."Insert a crowbar under the glass that covers the man and lift itcarefully away."

  "Crowbar? Glass?"

  "This almost invisible stuff covers him, it must be the 'glass'," saidJerran. "Let's try to lift it off."

  It took Revel and Rack and two miners, but in a matter of five minutes,they had removed the plate of glass, the thin curved sheet that hadprotected this man of the Ancient Kingdom. "Next?"

  "Provided that it is no later than the year 3284, Doctor Klapham shouldrevive within an hour. If not, take the hypodermic from the white casebelow him and inject 2cc.... Do you understand this at all?" she asked.

  "Only that the man, whose name is evidently Doctor Klapham, ought towake up shortly." The Mink shook his great brown head. "If only we'dfound this cave in a quiet time! If only the gods and the gentry weren'tto be dealt with! Have we the time?"

  "Your work is going on above-ground," said Jerran, rubbing his chin. "Wecan't be of more use anywhere else, it seems to me, than we may be righthere."

  They sat and watched the inert form of Doctorklapham, while two of theirrebels went out into the mine to round up anyone who would join them. Insomething over half an hour they were back. "The mine's been cleared;nothing anywhere except this man, who was on the lowest level and hasn'theard a thing."

  "They missed me, I guess," said the newcomer. "I was off in an abandonedtunnel sleeping."

  "We're eight, then." The Mink scratched his head reflectively. "Not abad fighting force. Provided they don't smear this whole valley, I thinkwe can win clear--after we see what this fellow is going to do."

  "I think I see him breathing," said the girl breathlessly. She wassitting with a book on her lap, trying to decipher the meaning of itswords. "Look at his throat."

  * * * * *

  Doctorklapham made a strange sound in his chest, a clicking, quiteaudible noise, and unfolding his strong hands, sat up.

  "Well," he said clearly, "didn't it work?" Then he took a closer look atthe eight people standing beside him. "Oh, my Lord," he said, "it _did_work!"

  "He speaks Orbish," said Rack, "but with a different accent. Could he befrom the far towns?"

  "No, you idiot, from the Ancient Kingdom," said Revel. "Your name isDoctorklapham, isn't it?"

  "Roughly, yes." The sleeper worked his jaws and massaged his hands."Wonderful stuff, that preservative ... what year is this, my friend?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "What's the date?"

  "Date?"

  "God, this I wasn't prepared for." He hoisted himself over and jumpeddown with boyish energy. "Tell me about the world," he said. "I guessI've been asleep a long time."

  "Yes, if you were put here in the time of the Ancient Kingdom." Revelwas trembling with excitement. "Why are you still alive?"

  "Friend, judging from your clothes and those picks, and the primitivelook of those lanterns, which must date from about 2015, I'd say it'd bepretty useless to tell you how come I'm alive. Just call it science."

  "What's that?"

  "Science? Electronics, atomic research, mechanics, what have you--meananything?"

  "I'm sorry," said the Mink, "no."

  "You speak quite decent English, you know. It's funny it hasn't changedmuch, unless I've been asleep a lot shorter a period than I figure."

  "My language is Orbish."

  "It's English to me. What's the name of your country, son?"

  "It has no name. Towns are named, not countries."

  "Who are you, then?"

  "I am Revel, the Mink," he said proudly. "I am the leader of the rebels,who are even now spreading through the land sending the word that thegods can die, and that the gentry's day is done. I am the Mink."

  He half-expected the man to know the old ballads, but Doctorklaphamsaid, "Mink? That was an animal when I was around last.... Call meJohn."

  "John. That sounds like a name." Rack nodded. "Yes, this is better thanDoctorklapham."

  "Anybody have a cigarette?" asked John.

  "What's that?"

  "A fag, boy--tobacco, something to smoke. You drag it in and puff itout."

  "Your words make no sense," said Revel. "Drag in smoke?"

  "This is going to be worse than I anticipated," said John. "Look, can'twe go somewhere an
d get comfortable? I have a lot to find out before Ican start getting across to you what I was sent into the future for."

  "We are besieged by the gods. We dare not leave this place."

  "By the gods. Hmm. Let's sit down, boy. I want to know all about thingshere. Miss, after you." He waited till Nirea had squatted on the floor,then folded himself down. "Okay," he said, whatever that meant. "Shoot.Begin. What are the gods, first?"

  Lady Nirea listened with half an ear to Revel's speeches, but with allher intellect she tried to follow John's remarks. They were sometimesfragmentary, sometimes short explanations of things that puzzled Revel,and sometimes merely grunts and slappings of his thighs. Many words shedid not know....

  * * * * *

  _My God, that sounds like extraterrestrial beings ... globes,golden aura of energy or force, sure, that's possible; andtentacles ... zanphs? describe 'em ... they aren't from Earth either;I'll bet you these god-globes of yours, which must be Martian orVenusian or Lord-knows-what, brought along those pretty pets when theyhit for Earth...._

  _Listen, Mink, those are not gods! They're things from the stars, fromout there beyond the world! You understand that? They came here in those"buttons" of yours--what we used to call flying saucers--and took overafter ... after whatever happened. Your civilization must have been in ahell of a decline to accept 'em as gods, because in my day ... oh, well,go ahead._

  _Priests, sure, there'd be a class of sycophants, bastards who'd sellout to the extraterrestrials for glory and profit ... yeah, your gentrysound like another type of sell-out, traitors to their race and theirworld ... describe those squires' costumes again, will you?... Holycats, eighteenth century to a T! Not a thread changed, from the sound ofit! And a lower class, you call it the ruck, which is downtrodden andlives in what might as well be hell...._

  _Yep, it sure sounds like hell and ashes. The globes; then, as isnatural to a conquered country, the top dogs, priests in your case, whorun things but are run by the globes; then the privileged gentry--I'llhave a look at those books of yours in a minute, honey--who pay somekind of tax, in money or sweat or produce or_ something, _for being whatthey are; then the ruck (I know the word, son, you've just enlarged itsmeaning) who have been serfs and peasants and vassals and thralls andchurls and hoi polloi and slaves since the Egyptians crawled out of theNile. The great unwashed, the people. Let 'em eat cake. I'm sorry, Mink,go on._

  _Your gentry sound about as lousy a pack of hellions as the eighteenthcentury squires! Too bad you don't know about tobacco, they could carrysnuffboxes and_ really _act the part...._

  _My God! Even the fox hunts--with people hunted. Anyone but miners? Opendays, eh? Ho-oly...._

  _Glad to know you, Rack. Don't know as I'd care to have you on the otherside, you look like Goliath. So you just saw the light when the godsstarted to die? You are lucky you saw it, big man; brother againstbrother is the nastiest form of war, especially if mankind's fighting analien power...._

  _Your rebels sound familiar, Mink. They had 'em about like you inIreland, a hundred or so years ago--I mean before I went bye-bye....Always romantic, unbelievable, unfindable, foxes with fangs...._

  _I wonder what your globes wanted? Power, sure, if they're that humanoidin concept, but it must have been more. Maybe their own planet blew up.Maybe they ran out of something. Tell me, do you have to give themanything? Any metal, say?_

  _Diamonds? Are those small hard chunks of--yes, I guess diamond stillmeans what it did. By gravy, I'll bet I know! They were just starting todiscover the terrific potential of energy of the diamond when I went tosleep in 2084. I_ wonder _how long ago that was? Anyway, I'll wager theseglobes of yours run their damned saucers--buttons--on diamond energy.Maybe their planet ran out of diamonds. By god! what a yarn!_

  _You'll have your hands full, but maybe I can help. There's a way tobring those saucers down out of the sky in a hurry.... They won't giveup easily. They obviously have atomic bombs, and the lush intoxicationof power won't be a cinch to give up, not for anything that sounds asegotistic as the globes...._

  _Dolfya? We called it Philadelphia. Kamden, Camden, yeah.... Woodslions, wow! They must be mutants from zoo or circus lions that escapedduring the atom wars; or maybe someone brought 'em to the U.S. TheTartarians had tame lions, I remember._

  _Six or eight brains? Well, Mink, I wouldn't argue, but I think you areconfusing certain functions of one brain with--oh, do go on!_

  _Let me see that gun. My Lord, what a concoction! Blunderbuss muzzle,shells, yet no breech-loading; ramrods to shove in shells! My saintedaunt! A fantastic combination...._

  _He eats dandelions, parsley, grass, eh ... chlorophyll, obviously. Andthe globe rests on his chest and puts tentacles into his mouth andnostrils. It's feeding, sure; look at the title of this book you've gothere. This is a bastard English but close enough. Certainly your fatherwrote it, Miss. Some of your gentry must have preserved the art as asecret._

  _Look here: I'll make it as plain as I can. The globes are from anotherworld. They came here for diamonds to run their buttons with. Got that?_

  _Now here's what I deduce from the little I've read here. Talk aboutPepy's Diary! Hadn't anything on this chronicle. Your father and theother gentry have to feed the globes periodically. Evidently they drawnourishment out of the human bodies--all that chlorophyll makes me thinkit's a definitely physical nourishment, rather than a psychic one.That's what your people pay for being privileged powers in the land.They stand the disgrace and the pain, if there is any, the draining oftheir energies, in return for plain old magnetic_ power.

  _So that's the source of life, strength, what-have-you, of the aliens!They must have gotten pretty frantic out in the space wastes, lookingfor a planet that could afford them a life form that was tap-able._

  _Evidently it has to be voluntary, from these books. I guess theancestors of the ruck had their crack at the honor and declined, thusdooming themselves and their offspring to servitude; while those thatassented became the gentry. What a--Judas Priest! What a sordid state ofaffairs for poor old Earth!_

  _Let me have that line from the Globate Credo again:_ They came from thesky before our grandfathers were born, to a world torn by war; theysettled our differences and raised us from the slime_--there's a bitterlaugh, gentlemen_--giving us freedom. All we have we owe to the globes._There's the whole tale in a nutshell. God!_

  _Orbish language, Orbuary, Orbsday--nice job they did of infiltrating. Iwonder what books they left you. I'd like a look at your father'slibrary. Alice in Wonderland, I suppose, or Black Beauty, or somethingequally advanced._

  _Now listen, lads, and you, Lady Nirea. I came from a world that mayhave had its rugged spots, but it was heaven and Utopia compared withthis one. You disinterred me at the damndest most vital moment of yourhistory, and probably of Earth's as well--we've had conquerors aplenty,but always of this world, not from out of it. It seems to me that ifyour rebellion fails, you're due for worse treatment than ever. You'vegot to win, and win fast. Any entity that has atomic weapons is going tobe no easy mark, and the gentry have guns. How about you people? Ten?Ten guns altogether? Oohh...._

  _See here. That big machine over there is a--well, that's hopeless. I'lltry to break this down in one-syllable words. Orbish words, I hope._

  _That big thing sends up rays like beams of sunlight but of differentintensity, color, wave length, et cetera--it sends up beams thatcounteract, I mean work against, destroy, other beams. Now the buttonsare held up there by forces in diamonds, taken out by these globes ofyours and used to hold up their homes, ships, saucers, buttons. Thebeams from that big thing will destroy the diamond beams and make thebuttons fall._

  _There's just one thing. We have to get the machine, the thing, out ofthis cave and onto the surface of the earth. You catch my meaning? Ithas to have sky above it before it can work against the button-beams.Yes, much like your globes' telepathy (what a word to survive, when"glass" and "electricity" didn't) and hypnosis fails when rock gets inthe
way._

  _Can you get it to the surface? Talk it over, Mink. It can give youplenty of help ... if you can get it up there. I'll just sit here, ifit's okay with you, and let my imagination boggle at what you've toldme._

  _I have the most confounded urgent feeling that this is a visit I'mmaking in a time machine, and that tomorrow I'll go back to good old2084. Johnnie, Johnnie, wake up! You're here!_

  _God!_