The Repairman | Page 6

for letting the Holy Waters cease. They found out I was there
only to help them restore the flow of the waters. They bought this,
tentatively, and we all heaved out of the tub and trickled muddy paths
across the floor. There was a bolted and guarded door that led into the
pyramid proper. While it was being opened, the First Lizard turned to
me.
"Undoubtedly you know of the rule," he said. "Because the old priests
did pry and peer, it was ruled henceforth that only the blind could enter

the Holy of Holies." I'd swear he was smiling, if thirty teeth peeking
out of what looked like a crack in an old suitcase can be called smiling.
He was also signaling to him an underpriest who carried a brazier of
charcoal complete with red-hot irons. All I could do was stand and
watch as he stirred up the coals, pulled out the ruddiest iron and turned
toward me. He was just drawing a bead on my right eyeball when my
brain got back in gear.
"Of course," I said, "blinding is only right. But in my case you will
have to blind me before I leave the Holy of Holies, not now. I need my
eyes to see and mend the Fount of Holy Waters. Once the waters flow
again, I will laugh as I hurl myself on the burning iron."
* * * * *
He took a good thirty seconds to think it over and had to agree with me.
The local torturer sniffled a bit and threw a little more charcoal on the
fire. The gate crashed open and I stalked through; then it banged to
behind me and I was alone in the dark.
But not for long--there was a shuffling nearby and I took a chance and
turned on my flash. Three priests were groping toward me, their
eye-sockets red pits of burned flesh. They knew what I wanted and led
the way without a word.
A crumbling and cracked stone stairway brought us up to a solid metal
doorway labeled in archaic script MARK III BEACON--AUTHORIZED
PERSONNEL ONLY. The trusting builders counted on the sign to do
the whole job, for there wasn't a trace of a lock on the door. One lizard
merely turned the handle and we were inside the beacon.
I unzipped the front of my camouflage suit and pulled out the
blueprints. With the faithful priests stumbling after me, I located the
control room and turned on the lights. There was a residue of charge in
the emergency batteries, just enough to give a dim light. The meters
and indicators looked to be in good shape; if anything, unexpectedly
bright from constant polishing.

I checked the readings carefully and found just what I had suspected.
One of the eager lizards had managed to open a circuit box and had
polished the switches inside. While doing this, he had thrown one of
the switches and that had caused the trouble.
* * * * *
Rather, that had started the trouble. It wasn't going to be ended by just
reversing the water-valve switch. This valve was supposed to be used
only for repairs, after the pile was damped. When the water was cut off
with the pile in operation, it had started to overheat and the automatic
safeties had dumped the charge down the pit.
I could start the water again easily enough, but there was no fuel left in
the reactor.
I wasn't going to play with the fuel problem at all. It would be far easier
to install a new power plant. I had one in the ship that was about a tenth
the size of the ancient bucket of bolts and produced at least four times
the power. Before I sent for it, I checked over the rest of the beacon. In
2000 years, there should be some sign of wear.
The old boys had built well, I'll give them credit for that. Ninety per
cent of the machinery had no moving parts and had suffered no wear
whatever. Other parts they had beefed up, figuring they would wear,
but slowly. The water-feed pipe from the roof, for example. The pipe
walls were at least three meters thick--and the pipe opening itself no
bigger than my head. There were some things I could do, though, and I
made a list of parts.
The parts, the new power plant and a few other odds and ends were
chuted into a neat pile on the ship. I checked all the parts by screen
before they were loaded in a metal crate. In the darkest hour before
dawn, the heavy-duty eye dropped the crate outside the temple and
darted away without being seen.
I watched the priests through the pryeye while