Logan Trilogy (28 page)

Logan took precautions: Gant might have posted a lookout, and since surprise was essential he brought the paravane down in a tree-screened ravine well short of their goal.

"Last chance to change your mind," Logan said as the blades idled to silence.

"Let's go," said Jonath, his mouth set in a stubborn line.

"If we move fast enough," said Logan, "we should be able to get there by sundown."

He stowed the Fuser in his belt and removed a canister of water from the paravane.

"We should cover the ship," said Jonath. "If we make it back here and it's gone…"

"No one can spot it from the air," Logan assured him. "Not down in this ravine. It's safe enough."

And they set off.

The country was extremely ragged, laced with drifts of sharp rock and tangled root-grass which slowed their progress. Brambles tore at their skin; sun hammered their backs.

At a rest halt Logan shared the canister of water with his friend.

"How much farther?" asked the Wilderness leader, breathing heavily, his back against a pine.

"Hour maybe," said Logan. "When I was here before, with Jess, I came in from another direction. But we should sight it soon."

They did.

The pride of the Dakotas.

A carved granite mammoth rising for more than five hundred and fifty feet into the sky of the Black Hills.

A warrior chief riding a mighty stallion.

A mountain that had become a man: Crazy Horse.

They were standing on a high ridge with a clear view of the mountain.

"Magnificent!" declared Jonath, staring at the awesome figure.

"He led the Sioux against Custer at Little Big Horn," said Logan. "Tashunca-uitco. A great leader. They say his arm points toward the Happy Hunting Ground of his people."

"And now he belongs to Gant," said Jonath bitterly.

They started down the ridge.

The sun had tipped to the western horizon when they reached the base of Crazy Horse.

Logan raised a hand, hesitating. A gold object glittered in deep grass to his left.

Something alive? A hidden Sandman?

He moved cautiously toward it, weapon in hand, Jonath following.

A glazed ruby eye stared up at Logan; its lens was shattered; part of a broken, rusting bulk of sunken metal.

"What is it?"

"Mech eagle," said Logan, leaning to examine the ruptured metal corpse. "Robot guardian designed to protect Crazy Horse. Looks like this one died with the Thinker."

Jonath picked up a portion of bronzed wingfeather. "Big," he said.

"And deadly," said Logan. "A pair of them ripped me last time I came here." Logan pointed upward, to the head of the warrior. "They lived on his shoulders. Went after anything that moved."

"Then let's be glad this one's not active."

Logan smiled.

"How do we get inside?" asked Jonath.

"There are three main access caves, but Gant would likely have men at each…Our best bet is to get in from above. Through a break in the rock."

"I'm not much good at climbing," Jonath said.

"We won't need to go too high," Logan told him. "Mountain's split in several places. Just a matter of picking one."

Logan reconnoitered the flank of rising rock, climbing up to investigate two of the cave-like surface splits. Satisfied, he gestured to Jonath.

"Here," he said. " 'This one."

Awkwardly, Jonath climbed up to join him.

"Be extremely careful inside," Logan warned. "One loose rock could fall all the way to the bottom. Our game would be up."

Jonath nodded.

Logan removed a small bulletlight from his tunic. "I'll have to keep this shielded," he said, "but at least we won't be in total darkness. Stay behind me."

"I sure don't plan to lead," smiled Jonath.

"One thing puzzles me," said Logan.

"What?"

"Why didn't Evans supply you with information on where Gant has Jessica? We could blunder around for miles in there!"

"My fault, really," admitted Jonath. "When he told me she was alive I was so anxious to reach you with the news that I failed to question him fully."

"Doesn't matter," said Logan. "If Jess is alive in there I'll find her…no matter how far we go or how long it takes."

THINKER

They had agreed to converse only out of necessity once they were inside the mountain—and now they moved in silence between pressing walls of deep-winding rock. Downward.

Toward the Thinker.

Built in the 1980s on a massive research grant, and symbolizing one of the high points of human scientific achievement, it had never been designed to rule Earth. Its final installation here, in the Crazy Horse caverns in 1991, opened a whole new research era, promising an end to disease and poverty.

The truly immense computer-complex, with its mechanical cells numbering ten raised to the seventeenth power, was a natural extension of the space-probe computers of the 1970s, but with much vaster potential.

Until the Little War.

When the young took charge of world government, they also took over the Thinker—re-programming it to their own ends, setting up the Death-at-21 society with this supreme god-computer as their major arm of enforcement. The cities of Earth lived in its metallic grip, becoming totally dependent upon it.

The Thinker's multi-million arteries became the world's prime root system, feeding power and control to each city around the globe.

As knight slays dragon, Ballard had killed the computer. It lay now, acres of blackened, inert metal, an endless cemetery of silent relays and ruptured cables, stretching for becalmed miles beneath the granite bulk of Crazy Horse.

But even in death, the Thinker inspired awe.

"It was alive when I was here with Jess," said Logan softly, as he and Jonath stood on a wide ledge overlooking the complex. Fissured cracks in the rock walls of the mountain allowed thin spears of

light to cut across the vast, dead-metal plain of linked computer banks.

"It goes on forever!" marveled Jonath. He started moving toward the floor of the caverns. Logan caught him just before his foot touched the dust-dulled surface, pulled him back abruptly.

"What's wrong? Gant isn't in this section."

"Not Gant," said Logan. "The Watchman."

"Watchman?"

"Another robot kill-device. Programmed to react instantly to the slightest pressure on the floor's surface." Logan picked up a small pebble, tossed it onto the flooring.

Silence. No alarms. No movement.

"We're all right," sighed Logan. "It's dead." He grinned at Jonath. "Believe me, you don't want that thing coming after you."

"Which way now?" asked Jonath.

"I'm not sure," said Logan, looking down a long row of silent computer banks. "Did Evans say why Gant picked Crazy Horse as his headquarters?"

"No. Just that he was here."

"He's probably rigged up some kind of auxiliary power—for light and heat. Using parts of the Thinker. Once we locate the power source we've found Gant."

"This thing spreads out for miles."

"Best chance is to head for the Central Core. Gant could have tapped into it for his power. If so, his headquarters will be close to the Core."

"But I thought this was dead…all of it."

"The components still exist," said Logan. "Gant might have found a way to partially reactivate some of them." He took out the canister of water, opened it. "Want some?"

"My throat's been dry ever since we got here," admitted Jonath, taking several swallows.

Logan drank, then stowed the canister back in his tunic. "Let's go. And walk softly all the way."

Weapons in hand, they headed for the Core.

ALIVE

Theoretically, Logan knew where the heart of the Thinker was located, but he'd never seen it.

However, if his reasoning was correct regarding Gant's use of this potential power center, the Core would soon reveal itself.

A live hum of energy alerted them as they moved down one of the mile-long corridors. A golden wash of light haloed the darkness ahead of them.

Logan spoke in a low whisper to Jonath: "Gant's men could be anywhere in this area. Keep close to the banks."

The sound increased.

"Crawl," directed Logan, dropping to his stomach. "We're almost there."

They inched forward, emerging onto a spiral of balcony which overlooked the glowing mass of the Central Core.

It was huge—an interlinking of incredibly-complex electronic columns, rising into the upper level of the mountain, each golden column pulsing with incalculable energies. At least half of the columns were "alive."

Logan was stunned. The display of computer power astonished him. In reactivating this much of the Core Gant had accomplished far more than Logan had believed possible.

To what purpose? Surely he had harnessed considerably more power than his personal use required.

"I want to get closer," Logan told Jonath. "You stay here while I—"

"Closer?" an amplified voice boomed and crashed around them. "A simple wish, Logan 3. One that I shall be happy to grant."

A cluster of pinbeams raked the balcony as Logan and Jonath sprang back, guns ready.

Logan blinked into the glare: "Are you Gant?"

"I am," the voice crackled.

"Where's Jessica?"

"Where indeed!" And the voice boomed in laughter. "Why should I tell you anything?"

"We're armed," Logan warned. "We can do a lot of damage here."

A dark figure advanced on them along the curving balcony. "That's an empty threat," said a voice that Logan recognized immediately.

"Evans!"

"Been a long time, Logan. When you made it to Argos I thought we'd never see you again. Yet…" And he smiled. "Here you are!"

Jonath was trembling with rage. "You used me—to get Logan here. Everything you told me…lies! All lies!"

"Not everything," said Evans smoothly, covering them with his Gun. "I said that Gant was here, which he is. And that he'd taken Jessica. Also true."

Jonath's eyes blazed. He raised the Fuser. "You filthy—"

Evans Gunned him. Ripper. In a sudden eruption of heat Jonath's body was blown apart. The remains of his charred corpse sprawled at Logan's feet.

"You are surrounded, Logan," boomed Gant's voice. "My men have been pacing you since the moment you entered Crazy Horse. Now, if you wish to see Jessica alive you'll hand your weapon to Evans 9."

"Do it," snapped Evans.

Face tight, eyes hard on his ex-friend, Logan handed the Fuser to Evans.

Other Sandmen materialized around him. One of them tapewired Logan's hands behind his back; another quickly looped a chokechain around his neck, affixed it to his wrists, snugged it tight.

During this, Logan remained silent.

With a tight smile, Evans said, "Welcome back, friend."

Logan spat in his face.

GANT

Seven feet tall. Bare-waisted. Dark, burnished skin. Deep-sunk, luminous eyes. A shark's slash of mouth.

Gant.

Logan stood before him, flanked by two Sandmen.

"Down," said Gant to one of them.

In response, the Sandman jerked fiercely on Logan's chokechain, forcing him to his knees.

Gant walked around him in a slow circle. "Your body's in good condition." He prodded Logan's shoulder. "Solid muscle tone. I'm happy to see that you've maintained yourself. So many ex-Sandmen go slack, allow their bodies to—"

"Where—is—she?" Logan's voice was edged, the words spaced with cold anger.

"You'll see her," said Gant. "I give you my absolute promise that the two of you shall soon be reunited."

"Have you…harmed her?"

Gant looked down at Logan and, for the first time, smiled at him. The smile was grotesque. The tall man had replaced his teeth with rubies. They glittered like blood in Gant's wide jaw.

"I never harm a thing of value," he said. "And Jessica has been of immense value to me." Again the jeweled smile. "She brought me you."

He gestured to the Sandmen. Logan was dragged up, pushed into a couch facing Gant's desk.

The tall man eased into a lifeleather chair, folded his hands and leaned across the mirrored expanse of desk. "This mountain is mine, Logan. It was Ballard's once. But he got careless."

Logan found it all but impossible to listen to Gant, talk to him with any degree of calm; he wanted,

with every ounce of his conscious being, to launch himself at the man's throat.

"You smashed the Sanctuary Line at Steinbeck," said Logan. "…and followed Ballard here."

"That's correct. But I was a bit late in arriving. Before I killed him Ballard had time to destroy a large part of the Thinker. Fortunately, not all. As you can see, he left the greater part of the Core intact."