Philip Dick - The Science Fiction Anthology

“Right, sir,” said Kincaide, who was as near a perfect officer as I have ever seen.

“Mr. Correy, you’ve heard my orders. So have you, men. We’re going underground, into a veritable warren of these spider creatures. If any of you wish to refuse this service, you have my permission to withdraw.”

Not a man moved. Correy hardly repressed a grin. He knew the men he had picked for the job.

“Good!” I said, and signaled to the cage operator. Swiftly we dropped to earth, where Tipene and our three hairy guides awaited us.

The descent into the white-lined tunnel was a terrifying experience. The lining was tough and fibrous, a sort of coarse material corresponding to the silk of a spider of normal size, although these strands were as large as my little finger, and strong as cables.

A close inspection of our guides added nothing to my confidence or bravery; their eight beady eyes, set at strategic spots about their heads, seemed unwinkingly ominous. And their mandibles, with fangs folded back like the blades of a pocket-knife, paired with their bristly palps, seemed like very capable weapons.

The Aranians ran ahead of us, our ethon lamps making strange and distorted shadows on the curving walls of the tunnel. Correy and I herded the unwilling Tipene just ahead of us, and the five picked men brought up the rear.

About forty feet down, the floor of the tunnel curved sharply and leveled off; a short distance farther on a number of other level tunnels merged with it, and the shape changed; from a tube perfectly circular in cross-section, it became a flattened oval, perhaps half again the height of a man, and at least three times that dimension in width.

Our party was joined by scores of other Aranians, who darted in from side passages; some going ahead, some closing in behind us, until the tunnel was filled with the peculiar brittle sound of their walking.

“They don’t lack for numbers,” muttered Correy softly. “Think they’ll make trouble, sir?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I showed them what the ray would do; I believe it threw a scare into the old chap. Did you tell them what we would do if they played any tricks, Tipene?”

“Certainly; my own life is endangered, isn’t it?” snapped the Zenian.

“It certainly is,” I told him grimly. “And not only by the spiders, if you make any suspicious moves.”

We went on without further conversation, until we came to the beginning of the cubicles Tipene had mentioned.

Each of these was closed, or could be closed, by a circular door such as those which concealed the outer entrance to the tunnels, save that these were swung on a side hinge. From the central passage we were following, smaller ones branched off in all directions: to the left, to the right; upward and downward. And all were lined with the cubicles, from which a constantly increasing army of Aranians emerged to accompany us.

We had gone but a short distance into the “city” when our ancient guide paused, turning to stare down a deserted passage.

“He says,” grunted Tipene—as near a grunt as the high-pitched Zenian voice is capable of, “that they’re down there. He asks that we go and get them; he is afraid. They have killed two of the Aranians already with their atomic pistols.”

“For which I don’t blame them in the least,” said Correy. “I’d get as many as I could before I let them sink their mandibles into me.”

“But I thought they were hostages, and being treated as such?”

“The Aranians got tired of waiting; some of the younger ones tried to do their own executing,” explained Tipene. “The whole brood of them is in an ugly mood, the old fellow tells me. We were fools to come!”

I didn’t argue the matter. You can’t argue such a matter with a man like Tipene. Instead, I lifted my voice in a shout which echoed down the long corridors.

“Brady! Inverness! Can you hear us?”

For a moment there was no reply, and then, as our ethon lights played hopefully along the passage, a circular door opened, and Inverness, his pistol drawn, peered out at us. A moment later, both he and Brady were running toward us.

“Hanson!” cried Inverness. “Man, but we’re glad to see a human face again—but why did you come? Now they’ve got us all.”

“But they’ll let us all go,” I said, with a confidence I did not feel. “I’ve demonstrated to one of their leaders just what the Ertak can do—and will do—if we aren’t aboard, safe and unhurt, in three hours.”

“The young bloods don’t obey well, though,” said Brady, shaking his head. “Look at them, milling around there in the central passage! They didn’t see your demonstration, whatever it was. They started for us some time back, and we had to rip a couple of them to pieces, and barricade ourselves.”

“Well,” said Correy grimly, “we’ll soon find out. Ready to start back, sir?”

Iturned to Tipene, who was staring at the packed mass of Aranians, who choked the tunnel in both directions.

“Tell them to make way,” I commanded. “We’re leaving.”

“I’ve—I’ve been in communication with him,” moaned Tipene. “And he hasn’t any power over these youngsters. They want blood. Blood! They say the ship won’t dare do anything so long as so many of us are here.”

“It will, though,” I snapped. “Kincaide will obey my orders to the letter. It’ll be a wholesale slaughter, if we’re not there by the specified time.”

“I know! I know!” groaned Tipene. “But I can’t make them understand that. They can’t appreciate the meaning of such discipline.”

“I believe that,” put in Brady. “Their state of society is still low in the scale. You shouldn’t have come, Commander. Better the two of us than the whole group.”

“It may not be so simple as they think. Mr. Correy, shall we make a dash for it?”

“I’d be in favor of that, sir!” he grinned.

“Very well, you take three of the enlisted men, Mr. Correy, and give us a brisk rear-guard action when we get into the main passage—if we do. Use the grenades if you have to, but throw them as fast as possible, or we’ll have the roof coming down on us.

“The two ray operators and myself will try to open a way, backed up by Inverness and Brady. Understand, everybody?” The men took the places I had indicated, nodding, and we stood at the mouth of the side tunnel, facing the main passage which intersected it at a right angle. The mouth of the passage was blocked by a crowded mass of the spider creatures, evidently eager to pounce on us, but afraid to start an action in those narrow quarters.

As we came toward them, the Aranians packed about the entrance gave way grudgingly, all save two or three. Without an instant’s hesitation, I lifted my pistol and slashed them into jerking pulp.

“Hold the ray,” I ordered the two men by my side, “until we need it. They’ll get a surprise when it goes into action.”

We needed it the moment we turned into the main corridor, for here the passage was broad, and in order to prevent the creatures from flanking us, we had to spread our front and rear guards until they were no more than two thin lines.

Seeing their advantage, the Aranians rushed us. At a word from me, the ray operators went into action, and I did what I could with my comparatively ineffective pistol. Between us, we swept the passage clean as far as we could see—which was not far, for the reddish dust of disintegration hung in the quiet air, and the light of our ethon lamps could not pierce it.

For a moment I thought we would have clear sailing; Correy and his men were doing fine work behind us, and our ray was sweeping everything before us.