Wind | Page 6

appellation for
the community. The inhabitants' term for it was simply "La Ciudad
Nuestra"--"Our Town." But he made no protest. He turned to one of the
other men and talked rapidly for a few moments in Spanish.
"None, señor," he said, turning back to Jan. "The Americans, of course,
kept much of it when they were here, but the few things we take to
Oostpoort to trade could not buy precious gasoline. We have electricity
in plenty if you can power the platform with it."
Jan thought that over, trying to find a way.
"No, it wouldn't work," he said. "We could rig batteries on the platform
and electric motors to turn the propellers. But batteries big enough to
power it all the way to Oostpoort would be so heavy the machine
couldn't lift them off the ground. If there were some way to carry a
power line all the way to Oostpoort, or to broadcast the power to it....
But it's a light-load machine, and must have an engine that gives it the
necessary power from very little weight."
Wild schemes ran through his head. If they were on water, instead of
land, he could rig up a sail. He could still rig up a sail, for a groundcar,
except for the chasm out on Den Hoorn.

The groundcar! Jan straightened and snapped his fingers.
"Doctor!" he explained. "Send a couple of men to drain the rest of the
fuel from my groundcar. And let's get this platform above ground and
tie it down until we can get it started."
Sanchez gave rapid orders in Spanish. Two of the men left at a run,
carrying five-gallon cans with them.
Three others picked up the platform and carried it up a ramp and
outside. As soon as they reached ground level, the wind hit them. They
dropped the platform to the ground, where it shuddered and swayed
momentarily, and two of the men fell successfully on their stomachs.
The wind caught the third and somersaulted him half a dozen times
before he skidded to a stop on his back with outstretched arms and legs.
He turned over cautiously and crawled back to them.
Jan, his head just above ground level, surveyed the terrain. There was
flat ground to the east, clear in a fairly broad alley for at least half a
kilometer before any of the domes protruded up into it.
"This is as good a spot for takeoff as we'll find," he said to Sanchez.
The men put three heavy ropes on the platform's windward rail and
secured it by them to the heavy chain that ran by the dome. The
platform quivered and shuddered in the heavy wind, but its base was
too low for it to overturn.
Shortly the two men returned with the fuel from the groundcar,
struggling along the chain. Jan got above ground in a crouch, clinging
to the rail of the platform, and helped them fill the fuel tank with it. He
primed the carburetors and spun the engines.
Nothing happened.
* * * * *
He turned the engines over again. One of them coughed, and a cloud of

blue smoke burst from its exhaust, but they did not catch.
"What is the matter, señor?" asked Sanchez from the dome entrance.
"I don't know," replied Jan. "Maybe it's that the engines haven't been
used in so long. I'm afraid I'm not a good enough mechanic to tell."
"Some of these men were good mechanics when the navy was here,"
said Sanchez. "Wait."
He turned and spoke to someone in the dome. One of the men of
Rathole came to Jan's side and tried the engines. They refused to catch.
The man made carburetor adjustments and tried again. No success.
He sniffed, took the cap from the fuel tank and stuck a finger inside. He
withdrew it, wet and oily, and examined it. He turned and spoke to
Sanchez.
"He says that your groundcar must have a diesel engine," Sanchez
interpreted to Jan. "Is that correct?"
"Why, yes, that's true."
"He says the fuel will not work then, señor. He says it is low-grade fuel
and the platform must have high octane gasoline."
Jan threw up his hands and went back into the dome.
"I should have known that," he said unhappily. "I would have known if
I had thought of it."
"What is to be done, then?" asked Sanchez.
"There's nothing that can be done," answered Jan. "They may as well
put the fuel back in my groundcar."
Sanchez called orders to the men at the platform. While they worked,
Jan stared out at the furiously spinning windmills that dotted Rathole.

"There's nothing that can be done," he repeated. "We can't make the trip
overland because of the chasm out there in Den Hoorn, and