The Celestial Blueprint and Others Stories by Philip José Farmer Page A
Authors: Philip José Farmer
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hidden in the shadows stood an X on guard. It turned its head, and tiger-bright eyes flamed.
Revanche choked off a scream and whirled. He expected to see the other destroyer behind him, but it was not in sight. When he reached the junction of the two corridors, he saw it standing there, sword held out before it in satiric salute.
There was but one way for Revanche to go—straight back to the bank’s vault.
For the first time he realized that he himself, B. T. Revanche, was being herdedl
He spun around again to face the oncoming terrors. Frantically, his fingers flicked the switch.
“Stopl Stopl I am your master! I am Revanche! I own you!”
“You are the chosen!” they bellowed.
He whirled, and began running again.
When he reached the vault, he found the X’s lined up in a double row, like the guards at a royal reception. They stood facing each other with eyes blazing at eyes, swords held straight out before them and legs widespread above gleaming shoes of brass.
Revanche did not stop but sped down between the guard of honor as if he were afraid they would all begin chopping at once. He had a vision of tiny fragments of meat swimming in a pool of blood, like protozoa jerking in a drop of water beneath a microscope.
When he came to the huge steel door of the vault, he stopped and looked within. The floor immediately before him had raised up to form a wall. Benath it was a round hole, the entrance to a large metallic, and greasy tube.
Down that funnel had slid the entire population, screaming, wailing, weeping, clutching at one another for support, striking out in a burst of maniacal fury.
Down they had gone notwithstanding, with a gnashing of teeth and tongues, and frantic clawings at the smooth and slippery sides in a desperate attempt to keep from hurtling to the doom they knew awaited them.
How well they knew it! This tube was exactly that which had been foretold in the Celestial Blueprint as the passageway for the heathen when they fell headlong to Rejectus!
Revanche had planned to slip down his private stairway to the little balcony that would overlook the other end of the tube. There, he would have watched the doomed spilling out in a white and frenzied flood. There, he would have lapped up revenge as a Greek ghost would have lapped blood at a Trojan hecatomb.
Instead, trembling, and bursting with terror, he turned and faced the X’s. “You haven’t got me yeti” he screamed at them.
He kicked the little wheel that closed the vault from the inside. Once the two hundred ton door clanged shut, it could not be opened as long as the inside wheel remained locked in place. It was an antirobbery device that he was well aware of, having in his youth once planned to plunder the bank in order to get a start in business.
The huge door swung shut swiftly.
Revanche shook his fist at the onrushing horde, then jerked around, and leaped into the tube. The thunder of brass shoes filled the vault walls. Just before he slid out of view, Revanche twisted his head for one last look.
A Bioid was leaping through the air in a desperate endeavor to sacrifice itself by stopping the door with its hard and almost indestructible eternalloy body.
The financier did not see whether or not the Bioid made it, for he dropped abrutly into blackness.
V
Normally, he would have shot down the smooth funnel, inclined at thirty-five degrees, at a terrific speed. But he had not become the most resourceful financier of the solar system for nothing.
So it was that he flicked the switch of the antigrav unit around his waist and quickly slowed to a half-speed. He had wanted to wear a full power machine, but it would have been too bulky to conceal beneath the loose folds of his garments. He had to be content with a moderate rate of descent.
After twenty seconds of sliding, he slipped out of the mouth of the funnel. It was as he had hoped. His checked speed enabled him to drop onto a granite ledge beneath the opening. Even so, he fell
Revanche choked off a scream and whirled. He expected to see the other destroyer behind him, but it was not in sight. When he reached the junction of the two corridors, he saw it standing there, sword held out before it in satiric salute.
There was but one way for Revanche to go—straight back to the bank’s vault.
For the first time he realized that he himself, B. T. Revanche, was being herdedl
He spun around again to face the oncoming terrors. Frantically, his fingers flicked the switch.
“Stopl Stopl I am your master! I am Revanche! I own you!”
“You are the chosen!” they bellowed.
He whirled, and began running again.
When he reached the vault, he found the X’s lined up in a double row, like the guards at a royal reception. They stood facing each other with eyes blazing at eyes, swords held straight out before them and legs widespread above gleaming shoes of brass.
Revanche did not stop but sped down between the guard of honor as if he were afraid they would all begin chopping at once. He had a vision of tiny fragments of meat swimming in a pool of blood, like protozoa jerking in a drop of water beneath a microscope.
When he came to the huge steel door of the vault, he stopped and looked within. The floor immediately before him had raised up to form a wall. Benath it was a round hole, the entrance to a large metallic, and greasy tube.
Down that funnel had slid the entire population, screaming, wailing, weeping, clutching at one another for support, striking out in a burst of maniacal fury.
Down they had gone notwithstanding, with a gnashing of teeth and tongues, and frantic clawings at the smooth and slippery sides in a desperate attempt to keep from hurtling to the doom they knew awaited them.
How well they knew it! This tube was exactly that which had been foretold in the Celestial Blueprint as the passageway for the heathen when they fell headlong to Rejectus!
Revanche had planned to slip down his private stairway to the little balcony that would overlook the other end of the tube. There, he would have watched the doomed spilling out in a white and frenzied flood. There, he would have lapped up revenge as a Greek ghost would have lapped blood at a Trojan hecatomb.
Instead, trembling, and bursting with terror, he turned and faced the X’s. “You haven’t got me yeti” he screamed at them.
He kicked the little wheel that closed the vault from the inside. Once the two hundred ton door clanged shut, it could not be opened as long as the inside wheel remained locked in place. It was an antirobbery device that he was well aware of, having in his youth once planned to plunder the bank in order to get a start in business.
The huge door swung shut swiftly.
Revanche shook his fist at the onrushing horde, then jerked around, and leaped into the tube. The thunder of brass shoes filled the vault walls. Just before he slid out of view, Revanche twisted his head for one last look.
A Bioid was leaping through the air in a desperate endeavor to sacrifice itself by stopping the door with its hard and almost indestructible eternalloy body.
The financier did not see whether or not the Bioid made it, for he dropped abrutly into blackness.
V
Normally, he would have shot down the smooth funnel, inclined at thirty-five degrees, at a terrific speed. But he had not become the most resourceful financier of the solar system for nothing.
So it was that he flicked the switch of the antigrav unit around his waist and quickly slowed to a half-speed. He had wanted to wear a full power machine, but it would have been too bulky to conceal beneath the loose folds of his garments. He had to be content with a moderate rate of descent.
After twenty seconds of sliding, he slipped out of the mouth of the funnel. It was as he had hoped. His checked speed enabled him to drop onto a granite ledge beneath the opening. Even so, he fell
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