“It is good that you have been so cooperative,” Tupa told them. “It means we have not had to make use of other methods of extracting the information we require.” Carter felt a slight chill at the admission. Apu Tupa might be old, but there was nothing frail about him.
“Since we have been so helpful,” Fewick said, “perhaps you could answer a question for me?” Tupa nodded condescendingly. “Some people have postulated that the long lines at Nazca, where the second transmitter is located, were landing strips for alien spacecraft. Do the Contisuyuns have an opinion on this matter?”
“To the best of our knowledge, Those-Who-Came-Before employed only the transmitters to travel between worlds. Why would they use vessels to cross the same distances far more slowly? Such a theory makes no sense. We believe that the Nazca peoples made those lines and drawings for their own edification.”
Fewick looked gratified. “My colleagues and I believe the same.”
“Never mind about a bunch of dead folks.” Ashwood confronted the master. “What happens to us when your invasion gets under way?”
“As previously mentioned, you are to accompany us to provide information as required,” Tupa told her. “It will not be long. Prepare yourselves.” With that he turned and grandly exited the room.
“At least we’re going home,” Carter observed.
“Yeah. Plumb straight into the middle of a war,” Ashwood said glumly.
XIII
Months passed, marked by increasing boredom and frustration on the part of the prisoners. Carter was convinced that his agent had long since dropped him. When the day finally came that they were escorted off the platform and out of the museum everyone was grateful despite what their departure portended.
They were whisked out of the building and via air suspension vehicle through an extensive cityscape which was anything but primitive. Tall, shimmering towers rose above gleaming blocks of offices and apartments. There was little in any of them to suggest their architectural origins except for the presence in several buildings of the traditional trapezoidal Inca windows.
Once outside the city their vehicle accelerated markedly, traveling at high speed and in comparative silence through strange forests and grasslands. Several hours later they turned off the main highway onto a side road which eventually led down into a smooth-sided tunnel.
The tunnel opened into a series of vast caverns which had been artificially enlarged and reinforced. Men and women busied themselves at inexplicable tasks. There was no mistaking the air of expectation and excitement which filled the chambers.
Their craft came to a halt in the largest cavern of all. Carter and his companions emerged and found themselves surrounded by uniformed troops and technicians. The troops carried long silver tubes and wore red helmets with translucent face shields. Conversation filled the air, machines moved back and forth according to unknown patterns.
Ranked next to each other and filling most of the cavern were twelve cargo transports the size of wingless 747s, squared off at the stern and rounded near the bow. The drab plastic and ceramic shapes were feathered with mysterious antennae. Carter saw no sign of engines.
That was because motive power was clearly supplied by the gigantic ovoid located at the far end of the chamber. The towering white egg-shape rested on massive golden supports and looked big enough to transmit an oil tanker. Those-Who-Came-Before, Carter decided, had not always thought small.
Workers loaded huge containers and alien machines into the transports through heavy cargo doors located in the stern of each vessel. Troops filed a-board via side entrances.
Pucahuaman was visible off to their right, conversing with members of his general staff.
“Which one is ours?” Manco Fernández noticed Carter watching him, added too quickly, “I mean, on which are the prisoners to be transported?”
Apu Tupa led them past Pucahuaman’s group. “We have the honor of traveling with the general staff, so our vehicle will be much smaller.”
A short walk brought them to an overlook. Below stood another transmitter. It was the same size as the ones they’d previously encountered at Paititi and Nazca. Sitting next to it was a transport vessel the size of two large trucks.
“The main force will transmit first,” their guide explained, “so that by the time the general staff follows, the immediate area will already be secured. According to what we know of the Nazca caverns this should not take much time.” Again Carter looked at Manco Fernández. The soft-drink bottler studiously avoided his gaze.
“Once our large weapons and defensive systems are in place we will be able to proceed in a more leisurely fashion.” He checked his tube. “Departure should begin shortly. It should be a grand sight. Our transmitters have been inoperative for two hundred years. I look forward to witnessing in person a phenomenon I know only from descriptions in ancient writings.”
They watched and waited while the loading of the transports continued. When the last soldier had boarded and the last weapon had safely been stowed the technicians and workers retreated to the upper end of the cavern.
Desperate as he was to see Earth again, Carter found himself hoping the transmitter would not work.
The hum that filled the chamber set his bones to trembling. It was much deeper and more pervasive than anything they had previously experienced. The floor vibrated noticeably. The sound rose steadily in volume and intensity, until the colossal ovoid began to pulse with a prodigal inner glow. Though everyone had been provided with eyeshades, they still turned away when the blast of pure intense light exploded to fill the cavern. Past his ears echoed a scream of displaced air.
A cheer rose from the crowd of workers. When he could see again Carter saw that the first transport in line had vanished. The next was already being moved into position proximate to the transmitter.
It took only two hours to transmit all twelve of the huge transports. There followed a period of rejoicing and congratulations in which the prisoners did not share. Several prominent nobles and military people made speeches.
It was evening before the general staff finally boarded its own transport.
The vessel’s interior was incredibly basic, Carter saw. There were no controls of any kind, and minimal instrumentation. Only comfortable seats and couches. Twenty elite soldiers and as many technicians accompanied the prisoners and the general staff.
“We shall emerge in the upper portion of the base,” Apu Tupa informed them, “ready to assume preassigned stations immediately. No time will be wasted.”
Sealed within the transport they had no way of knowing whether the transmitter would activate. They could not see the flash because there were no windows. But soon after the general staff ceased conversing Carter thought he felt a slight, subtle disorientation. His suspicion was confirmed when two technicians rose to open the single starboard-side door. As it slid aside, a pair of tube-wielding soldiers moved to flank the portal. Others rushed to take up positions outside the transport.
Only then did the technicians and members of the general staff begin to exit, accompanied by the eight prisoners (Fewick childishly insisted on including Moe as an official member of their group).
The Contisuyuns set up powerful portable lights. In their glow Carter could see that everything was as they had left it. The transmitter rested in its ceremonial stone alcove. The avalanche of gold that Blanco Fernández had brought forth from a nearby vault lay undisturbed where it had spilled. Only one thing was not as expected.
There was no sign of the hundreds of troops who were supposed to have preceded them.
As the general staff’s bodyguard spread out to check the main tunnel and side corridors Carter thought longingly of the hillside entrance located not far from where he was standing. This time his arms and legs were not bound. He was a good runner, though stiff from lack of exercise. If he could make it to the exit he might be able to lose himself in the scrub which covered the hills around Nazca. His chances of escaping would be improved if it was night outside.
And what then? What would he tell the local authorities? That above the famed Nazca lines lay a vast cavern presently packed with soldiers descended from the ancient Incas, all of them armed to the teeth with weapons derived from an alien technology? That they had stepped across a gulf of light-years with the sole intention of exacting revenge for injuries they had suffered hundreds of years ago?
He might be better off hitching a ride back to Lima, flying home, seeing if his agent had any work for him, and following any subsequent developments on the evening news. That meant living out the remainder of his days knowing he had abdicated all personal responsibility for whatever happened from then on.
On the other hand, he thought blithely, he didn’t much care for the French either.
The general staff was puzzled but not overly concerned. Something had prevented the main force’s technicians from setting up battle control here in the upper cavern. They would arrive in due course, perhaps any minute now. Although careful preliminary calculations had allowed for sufficient room in the main chamber below, it was not inconceivable that the arrival of the twelve massive transports had resulted in a cave-in of unknown dimensions. The transports had been sturdily constructed with such possibilities in mind, and provided with equipment for digging out.
