Page:Avon Fantasy Reader 11 (1949).pdf/59

 He stopped suddenly in the corridor and nudged Weyman weakly. He pointed to a rivet-studded door.

"Here it is."

He stumbled to the portal and pressed a button. Groaning and whining, the door swung inward and to one side. A blast of air shot out of the opening, nearly knocking him over. He held on to his companion and dragged himself through. The door closed.

A man clad in an oil-streaked and dust-laden tunic came up to him, looming up out of the darkness. He spoke in a high voice. The machines were here. Their voices filled the room.

"Over here!" he shouted into Payton's ear.

He led the two men to a metal slab on which rested three figures, two of men, the other of a woman.

Weyman clutched his arm for support. He turned to his friend.

"They found them this morning."

"Accident?"

"The Enemy!"

"How did they die?"

Weyman stood aside and pointed.

It wasn't a pretty sight; these people had died unpleasantly. The woman's body was rigid in death. A bluish foam lay on her lips. Her eyes, wide open, stared at the ceiling. Every muscle was tensed. One of the men exhibited similar symptoms. The other's skull had been crushed in and the blood had coagulated instantly. It lay in cracked lines over the remains of the face. One of the feet was similarly damaged.

Payton shuddered. Icy fear seized him. He spoke without turning.

"No one was near?"

The attendant answered.

"They were alone."

"The ones we find dead are always alone," whispered Weyman to the air before him.

Payton seated himself wearily on a metal stool nearby and dismissed the attendant.

"The machinery was damaged. Chewed," he said in a slow, strained voice, "chewed as though by teeth."

Weyman shrugged his shoulders.

"There are no such teeth in the City."

"There is something in the City."

"Weyman!" Payton clutched the edge of the stool. His thin hands were like the hands of a skeleton. "We must kill them before they kill us all! The council must meet now."

Somewhere in the murky distance the deep throat of a gong sounded insistently, rising out of the incessant hum of the machines. Again and again the warning timbre of it beat against the gloom until it seemed to penetrate the fibre and tissues of the defenders. And with that penetration 95