The Repairman

folded my arms in a regal stance. "Greetings, O noble servers of theGreat God," I said. Of course I didn't say it out loud, just whisperedloud enough for the throat mike to catch. This was radioed back to theMT and the translation shot back to a speaker in my jaws.

  The natives chomped and rattled and the translation rolled out almostinstantly. I had the volume turned up and the whole square echoed.

  Some of the more credulous natives prostrated themselves and others fledscreaming. One doubtful type raised a spear, but no one else tried thatafter the pterodactyl-eye picked him up and dropped him in the swamp.The priests were a hard-headed lot and weren't buying any lizards in apoke; they just stood and muttered. I had to take the offensive again.

  "Begone, O faithful steed," I said to the eye, and pressed the controlin my palm at the same time.

  It took off straight up a bit faster than I wanted; little pieces ofwind-torn plastic rained down. While the crowd was ogling this ascent, Iwalked through the temple doors.

  "I would talk with you, O noble priests," I said.

  Before they could think up a good answer, I was inside.

  * * * * *

  The temple was a small one built against the base of the pyramid. Ihoped I wasn't breaking too many taboos by going in. I wasn't stopped,so it looked all right. The temple was a single room with amurky-looking pool at one end. Sloshing in the pool was an ancientreptile who clearly was one of the leaders. I waddled toward him and hegave me a cold and fishy eye, then growled something.

  The MT whispered into my ear, "Just what in the name of the thirteenthsin are you and what are you doing here?"

  I drew up my scaly figure in a noble gesture and pointed toward theceiling. "I come from your ancestors to help you. I am here to restorethe Holy Waters."

  This raised a buzz of conversation behind me, but got no rise out of thechief. He sank slowly into the water until only his eyes were showing. Icould almost hear the wheels turning behind that moss-covered forehead.Then he lunged up and pointed a dripping finger at me.

  "You are a liar! You are no ancestor of ours! We will--"

  "Stop!" I thundered before he got so far in that he couldn't back out."I said your ancestors sent me as emissary--I am not one of yourancestors. Do not try to harm me or the wrath of those who have PassedOn will turn against you."

  When I said this, I turned to jab a claw at the other priests, using themotion to cover my flicking a coin grenade toward them. It blew a nicehole in the floor with a great show of noise and smoke.

  The First Lizard knew I was talking sense then and immediately called ameeting of the shamans. It, of course, took place in the public bathtuband I had to join them there. We jawed and gurgled for about an hour andsettled all the major points.

  I found out that they were new priests; the previous ones had all beenboiled for letting the Holy Waters cease. They found out I was thereonly to help them restore the flow of the waters. They bought this,tentatively, and we all heaved out of the tub and trickled muddy pathsacross the floor. There was a bolted and guarded door that led into thepyramid proper. While it was being opened, the First Lizard turned tome.

  "Undoubtedly you know of the rule," he said. "Because the old priestsdid pry and peer, it was ruled henceforth that only the blind couldenter the Holy of Holies." I'd swear he was smiling, if thirty teethpeeking out of what looked like a crack in an old suitcase can be calledsmiling.

  He was also signaling to him an underpriest who carried a brazier ofcharcoal complete with red-hot irons. All I could do was stand and watchas he stirred up the coals, pulled out the ruddiest iron and turnedtoward me. He was just drawing a bead on my right eyeball when my braingot back in gear.

  "Of course," I said, "blinding is only right. But in my case you willhave to blind me before I _leave_ the Holy of Holies, not now. I need myeyes to see and mend the Fount of Holy Waters. Once the waters flowagain, I will laugh as I hurl myself on the burning iron."

  * * * * *

  He took a good thirty seconds to think it over and had to agree with me.The local torturer sniffled a bit and threw a little more charcoal onthe fire. The gate crashed open and I stalked through; then it banged tobehind me and I was alone in the dark.

  But not for long--there was a shuffling nearby and I took a chance andturned on my flash. Three priests were groping toward me, theireye-sockets red pits of burned flesh. They knew what I wanted and ledthe way without a word.

  A crumbling and cracked stone stairway brought us up to a solid metaldoorway labeled in archaic script _MARK III BEACON--AUTHORIZED PERSONNELONLY_. The trusting builders counted on the sign to do the whole job,for there wasn't a trace of a lock on the door. One lizard merely turnedthe handle and we were inside the beacon.

  I unzipped the front of my camouflage suit and pulled out theblueprints. With the faithful priests stumbling after me, I located thecontrol room and turned on the lights. There was a residue of charge inthe emergency batteries, just enough to give a dim light. The meters andindicators looked to be in good shape; if anything, unexpectedly brightfrom constant polishing.

  I checked the readings carefully and found just what I had suspected.One of the eager lizards had managed to open a circuit box and hadpolished the switches inside. While doing this, he had thrown one of theswitches and that had caused the trouble.

  * * * * *

  Rather, that had _started_ the trouble. It wasn't going to be ended byjust reversing the water-valve switch. This valve was supposed to beused only for repairs, after the pile was damped. When the water was cutoff with the pile in operation, it had started to overheat and theautomatic safeties had dumped the charge down the pit.

  I could start the water again easily enough, but there was no fuel leftin the reactor.

  I wasn't going to play with the fuel problem at all. It would be fareasier to install a new power plant. I had one in the ship that wasabout a tenth the size of the ancient bucket of bolts and produced atleast four times the power. Before I sent for it, I checked over therest of the beacon. In 2000 years, there should be _some_ sign of wear.

  The old boys had built well, I'll give them credit for that. Ninety percent of the machinery had no moving parts and had suffered no wearwhatever. Other parts they had beefed up, figuring they would wear, butslowly. The water-feed pipe from the roof, for example. The pipe wallswere at least three meters thick--and the pipe opening itself no biggerthan my head. There were some things I could do, though, and I made alist of parts.

  The parts, the new power plant and a few other odds and ends were chutedinto a neat pile on the ship. I checked all the parts by screen beforethey were loaded in a metal crate. In the darkest hour before dawn, theheavy-duty eye dropped the crate outside the temple and darted awaywithout being seen.

  I watched the priests through the pryeye while they tried to open it.When they had given up, I boomed orders at them through a speaker in thecrate. They spent most of the day sweating the heavy box up through thenarrow temple stairs and I enjoyed a good sleep. It was resting insidethe beacon door when I woke up.

  * * * * *

  The repairs didn't take long, though there was plenty of groaning fromthe blind lizards when they heard me ripping the wall open to get at thepower leads. I even hooked a gadget to the water pipe so their HolyWaters would have the usual refreshing radioactivity when they startedflowing again. The moment this was all finished, I did the job they werewaiting for.

  I threw the switch that started the water flowing again.

  There were a few minutes while the water began to gurgle down throughthe dry pipe. Then a roar came from outside the pyramid that must haveshaken its stone walls. Shaking my hands once over my head, I went downfor the eye-burning ceremony.

  The blind lizards were waiting for me by the door and looked evenunhappier than usual. When I tried the door, I found out why--it wasbolted and barred from the other side.

&nb
sp; "It has been decided," a lizard said, "that you shall remain hereforever and tend the Holy Waters. We will stay with you and serve yourevery need."

  A delightful prospect, eternity spent in a locked beacon with threeblind lizards. In spite of their hospitality, I couldn't accept.

  "What--you dare interfere with the messenger of your ancestors!" I hadthe speaker on full volume and the vibration almost shook my head off.

  The lizards cringed and I set my Solar for a narrow beam and ran itaround the door jamb. There was a great crunching and banging from thejunk piled against it, and then the door swung free. I threw it open.Before they could protest, I had pushed the priests out through it.

  The rest of their clan showed up at the foot of the stairs and made agreat ruckus while I finished welding the door shut. Running through thecrowd, I faced up to the First Lizard in his tub. He sank slowly beneaththe surface.

  "What lack of