The Stainless Steel Rat Goes to Hell

Chapter 5

Something happened.

I couldn't remember it, could not begin to describe it. I did not want to think about it. I had far more important things on my mind. Like the fact that I was still paralyzed and lying facedown in red grit of some kind. I couldn't fee] it but I could smell it. A rotten, sulfury smell.

Smell! Yes, it certainly was there, and growing stronger and stronger. Which meant something important. After I had been zapped couldn't smell or feel anything: I could now. Which must mean that the paralysis must be wearing off, because I was vaguely aware of a scratchy pressure on my cheek. I concentrated, struggled hard, harder—then felt my fingertips move ever so slightly.

Recovery did not end quickly, not the way the onset of the paralysis had, but slowly and soon very painfully. Waves of red agony that ran through my reviving body that threatened to block my vision. My eyes were watering, tears ran down my cheeks as I writhed in agony. Slowly, very slowly it died away and I managed to roll over.

Blinking away the tears to stare up at a gray rock ceiling above. There was a low moan and with a great deal of effort I turned my head to see that Sybil was lying oh the ground next to me. Her eyes were closed and her body twisted with pain as she moaned again. I knew what she was experiencing. Slowly and exhaustingly, with a great deal of grunting and gasping, I crawled to her, took her hand,

"The pain," I managed to say, "it goes away."

"Jim. ~.." Whispered so quietly I could barely hear it.

"None other. You're going to be all right."

This was a pretty pathetic reassurance but was about all that I could think of at the moment. Where were we? What had happened? If this was Heaven it was pretty different from the place that she had described. Sharp volcanic gravel instead of grass; rock instead of sky. Where was the light coming from? And what was the last thing that Slakey had said? Something about not quite being Heaven.

With some effort I managed to sit up and saw the opening in the rock wall: we were in a cleft or a cave of some sort. And beyond the opening was a red sky.

Red? There was a distant deep rumble and I felt the ground beneath me tremble; a cloud of dark smoke roiled across the sky. Clutching to the rock wall I managed to drag myself to my feet and stumble over to Sybil. I helped her sit up with her back to the wall.

She tried to speak, starting coughing instead. Finally squeezed out the words. "Slakey—he was one step ahead of us all the time."

"What do you mean?"

"He was playing with us, and must have known that you were in the building. He cut his sermon short, made some kind of excuse about an unexpected meeting, turned the organ on instead, along with a recording of everyone singing. Asked us all to leave. Everyone except me. He took me aside, said that he had something most important to tell me. I was curious of course, besides the fact that I couldn't think of anything else to do except do as he had asked. Then, as soon as the others were gone he pointed something at me. I had only the quickest look at something like a silver spiderweb, before I fell down. It was horrible! I couldn't move a muscle, not even my eyes. I was aware of him dragging me into that back room in the darkness—and the worst part was that there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I couldn't move, do anything at all, couldn't warn you that was the worst part. Then the lights were on, and you were there, falling. I remember him talking to you. After that—nothing.

"That's about all that I can remember—until I opened my eyes here."

I patted my side pocket, felt the lump of the communicator, felt a slight touch of hope at the same time. I put it to my ear, turned it on. Nothing. The same went for every other device on my person. All dead. Batteries and power packs drained. I couldn't even open the blade on my Schweitzy Army Knife; it seemed to be welded into a lump. I looked at the small pile of metallic debris and felt the urge to kick it across the cave. I gave in to the urge and did just that. It clattered nicely.

"Just junk now. All dead. Nothing works." I turned and stumbled towards the light.

"Jim, don't leave…"

"I'm not going far. I just want to look out, satisfy my curiosity, find out where we are."

Leaning one hand against the rock so I wouldn't trip, I took step after shuffling step until I was at the entrance and staring out. I felt my jaw fall open with shock as I dropped to my knees. For long moments I could only stare. With an effort I turned away, managed to stand again and went back to Sybil. She was sitting up now and very much more in control.

"What's out there, Jim?"

"Certainly not Heaven. The sky is red, not blue, no white clouds and certainly no grass. A geologically unstable area with an active volcano nearby. Plenty of smoke, but at least no lava. And there is a big and swollen sun like no sun—or star—I have ever seen before. It is light red in hue, not white or blue, which explains the russet coloring of the landscape."

"Where are we?"

"Well—" I groped for something intelligent to say. "Well we know now that we're not on Vulkann," was the best I could come up with. "And…"

She noticed my hesitation. "And?"

"I just had a glimpse."

"Some glimpse! You should see your face—you've gone all gray."

I tried to laugh at this, but it came out as a pathetic gurgle. "Yes, I saw someone—or something. For just the shortest instant I could see sort of a figure, going away, fast. Biped, erect." My voice ran down and she looked very concerned. "Sorry. I'm just being stupid. It really moved too fast for me to see any details. But I think, no I'm sure, that it had a tail. And… it was bright red."

There was a long silence before she spoke.

"You're right. We're certainly not in Heaven. How is your theology?"

"Not too good—but good enough to know that I should not be thinking what I am thinking. Before you arrived I did a little theological digging in the net about the Heaven concept and all the afterworlds and afterlife, to find out more facts, to get some insight as to what it was all about. I'm afraid that my early religious education was more than neglected. Here is how it goes. There are as many concepts of Heaven as there are different religions. What I did was outline the Heaven as seen by the attendees at the Temple of Eternal Truth and search for comparisons. I found a really interesting assortment of religions with a great variety of names. I narrowed these down to the ones that featured a dichotomy of Heaven and Hell, which are places that are occupied after you die. There is an object called a soul, which you can't see or find or anything like that. It comes from somewhere unspecified. The description was pretty vague at this point. This soul, in some undescribed manner, is supposed to be you. Or the essence of you. Don't look at me like that—I'm not making it up! Anyway, this soul wants to end up in Heaven. There is a mention also of a sort of halfway house called Purgatory. And, I'm sure that you have heard of it, a direct opposite kind of place called Hell."

She looked shocked. "Then you think that.. perhaps we have ended up in this place called Hell?"

"Well, until a better idea comes along—and I hope it willthat seems to be the conclusion

There was a distant rumbling roar, the ground shivered beneath my feet. A sudden weight seemed to press down and I dropped to my knees, put my hands out to break my fall. I was heavy, suddenly very heavy; Sybil was sprawling on the ground again.

Then the strange sensation passed, as quickly as it had come, and I stood again, shakily.

"What—was that?"

"I haven't the slightest idea. I never felt anything like it before. It was like, what? A gravity wave passing over us?"

"There is no such thing as a gravity wave."

"There is now!"

She tried to smile, but shivered instead.

"Don't," I said. "We're someplace strange, and it might very well be a place called Hell. But we appear to be alive—so let us get out of this cave and find out just where in Hell we are!"

She pulled away and straightened up, running her fingers through her hair. And even managed a small smile. "I bet I even look like Hell," she said. "Let's go."

Our little burst of enthusiasm did not last very long. As we walked on, the air grew hotter, uncomfortably hotter. We passed around a spur of rock and found out why. We recoiled from the blast of heat and looked on aghast at the scene before us. Directly ahead ran a wide river of turgid lava. Darkened slag formed on top, cracking and breaking apart as it flowed by to reveal the glowing, turgidly liquid stone below. We retreated. Retracing our steps.

"We'll try the opposite direction," I said, then coughed. Sybil did not answer, just nodded in agreement. Her throat must have been as dry as mine; she would have been just as thirsty. Was there any water in this parched landscape? The answer did not bear thinking about.

Something else did not bear thinking about. Angelina. Slakey must have sent her someplace just the way he had sent us. To Heaven I hoped. I hoped even harder that it was not to this terrible planet that she had gone.

We retraced our path past the cave mouth from which we had emerged and stumbled on through a landscape of rolling gravel dunes. It was still hot, but not the ovenlike furnace that we had just left.

"A moment," Sybil said, stopping and sitting on a wide boulder. "I'm a little tired." I nodded and sat beside her.

"Not surprising. Whatever that paralysis web was it certainly didn't do us any good. Physically or mentally."

"I feel beat—and depressed. If I knew how to quit I would." Looking at the despair in her face, hearing the echo of exhaustion in her voice—I grew angry. This fine, strong, attractive agent should not be reduced like this by one man.

"I hate you Slakey!" I shouted, Jumping to my feet and shaking my fist at the sky. A rumble of a distant volcano was not much of an answer. I got even angrier. "You will not get away with this. We are going to get out of this place, yes we are. The air on this planet must have come from someplace, from living green plants. We'll find them—and you cannot stop us!"

"You are wonderful, Jim," Sybil said, standing and smoothing down her wrinkled and filthy dress. "Of course we will go on. And of course we will win."

I nodded angry agreement. Then pointed down the valley. "That way, away from the lava and the volcanoes. It will be a lot better."

And it was. As we walked the air became cooler. After a bit, when the valley widened out, I caught a glimpse of green far ahead. I did not want to mention it at first—but then Sybil saw it as well.

"Green," she said firmly. "Grass or trees or something like that ahead. Or is it just wishful thinking?"

"No way! I can see it as well and it is a very cheering sight indeed. Forward!"

We almost ran as the verdant landscape opened up ahead. It was grass, knee—high, cool and slightly damp as we pushed our way through it. There were clumps of trees farther ahead, then more and more of them, almost a small forest.

"Good old chlorophyll," I exulted. "Bottom of the food chain and from whence all life doth spring. Capturing the sun's energy to manufacture—food…"

"And water?"

"You better believe it. There has to be water somewhere around here—and we are going to find it—"

"Shhh," she shhhsed. "Do you hear that? A sort of rustling, like dry leaves."

I did hear it, a light crackling sound that was coming towards us from the forest. Then something small came out from under the trees and moved hesitantly into the grass.

"Well, Hello," I said to the tiny reddish—brown form that emerged. It looked up at me with button—black eyes and squealed with fright.

The squeal was echoed by a louder and more angry squeal from the forest. There was a thunder of running hooves and a giant avenging form burst out from under the trees, snorting with massive maternal protectiveness. A good two meters from snuffling nose to twitching tail. Covered all over with protective spines now rigidly erect. Sybil gasped with horror.

I smiled and cried out, "Sooooy, pig, pig, pig!" "Jim—what is it?"

"One of the most endearing and lovely creatures in the galaxy, friend of my youth, companion to man. It is aporcuswine!" She looked at me as though she thought I was going mad. "Endearing? Is it going to attack?"

"Not if we don't threaten her swinelet." The tiny creature had lost its fright when its monster dam had appeared and had nosed aside the protecting quills to find some refreshing milk. I moved slowly, bending over to pick up a windfall branch. Beady and suspicious eyes followed my every movement.

"That's a good girl," I said, stepping forward and making reassuring clucking noises. She quivered a bit but held her ground. Turning her head to follow me as I approached. A drop of saliva formed on a protruding, sharp tusk, then dripped to the ground.

"There, there," I murmured. "Little Jimmy doesn't hurt porcuswine. Little Jimmy loves porcuswine." Reaching down I brushed a handful of quills slowly aside between her ears, reached out and prodded with the end of the branch, then rubbed it strongly through the thick bristles.

Her eyes were half—closed as she burbled contentedly.

"Porcuswine just love to be scratched behind the earsthey can't reach the spot themselves."

"How do you know about these terrible creatures?" "Terrible? Never! Companions to mankind in his quest to the stars. You should read your galactic history more closely. Read about the strange beasts and deadly creatures that were waiting for the first settlers. Monsters that could eat a cow in a single bite. They learned fear from the faithful porcuswine, let me tell you. An artificial genetic mutation between giant pigs and deadly porcupine. Tusks and hooves to attack, spines to defend. Loyal, faithful and destructive when needs be." "Good pork chops too?"

"Indeed—but we don't speak about that in their presence. I was raised on a farm and let me tell you, my only friends were our herd of porcuswine. Ahh, here's the boar now!"

I shouted joyous greeting to the immense and deadly form that lumbered out of the forest. He glared at me with red and swiney eyes. Grunted aloud with pleasure as the end of my stick scratched and scratched at his hide. I grunted with the effort—and pleasure as well.

"Where did they come from?" Sybil asked.

"The forest," I said scratching away.

"That's not what I mean. What kind of a place is this with volcanoes, lava flows, gravity waves—and these creatures?"

"A planet that had to have been settled by mankind. We'll find out soon enough. But first let us follow the pigpaths into the forest and find some water. Drink first, cogitate later."

"Agreed," she said leading the way. I followed her and our newfound porcine friends followed me. Grunting expectantly for more delicious scratching attention. We lost them only when the path led through a clearing surrounded by storoak trees. The boar slammed his tusks into the trunk of one heavy—laden tree and shook it mercilessly. Acorns as big as my head rained down and the little family munched on them happily. We emerged from the forest into a water meadow that had been stirred up muddily by sharp hooves. It bordered a small lake, The far side was shielded in mist that obscured any details. We left the muddy path and found a shelf of rock that led to the water. Sat at the water's edge and drank cupped handfuls of the clear and cool water until we had drunk our—fill. "Find a few dry sticks, rub them together and it could be pork for dinner," Sybil said, smacking her lips. "Never! They're friends." My stomach rumbled enticingly. "Well maybe later, much later. And only if we can't find another source of food. I think a little exploring is in order. This is—or was—a settled world. Mankind took the mutated porcuswine and storoak to the stars. There should be farms here."

"I wouldn't even know what one looked like. I was a city girl, or rather a small—town girl. Food was something that you bought in the Shop. My mother and father—everyone thereworked at teleconferencing or programming or computing or whatever. No factories, no pollution, that sort of thing was confined to the distant robot construction sites. Our town was just low and ordinary, just a lot of landscaped buildings and green parks. Utterly and totally boring."

I squinted across the lake where the mist appeared to be clearing. I pointed. "Like that place over there?"