“Goodwin!” Drake broke the silence; desperately he was striving to keep his fear out of his voice. “Goodwin—this isn't the way to get out. We're going up—farther away all the time from the—the gates!”
“What can we do?” My anxiety was no less than his, but my realization of our helplessness was complete.
“If we only knew how to talk to these Things,” he said. “If we could only have let the Disk know we wanted to get out—damn it, Goodwin, it would have helped us.”
Grotesque as the idea sounded, I felt that he spoke the truth. The Emperor meant no harm to us; in fact in speeding us away I was not at all sure that he had not deliberately wished us well—there was that about the Keeper—
Still up we sped along the shaft. I knew we must now be above the level of the valley.
“We've got to get back to Ruth! Goodwin—NIGHT! And what may have HAPPENED to her?”
“Drake, boy”—I dropped into his own colloquialism—“we're up against it. We can't help it. And remember—she's there in Norhala's home. I don't believe, I honestly don't believe, Dick, that there's any danger as long as she remains there. And Ventnor ties her fast.”
“That's true,” he said, more hopefully. “That's true—and probably Norhala is with her by now.”
“I don't doubt it,” I said cheerfully. An idea came to me—I half believed it myself. “And another thing. There's not an action here that's purposeless. We're being driven on by the command of that Thing we call the Metal Emperor. It means us no harm. Maybe—maybe this IS the way out.”
“Maybe so,” he shook his head doubtfully. “But I'm not sure. Maybe that long push was just to get us away from THERE. And it strikes me that the impulse has begun to weaken. We're not going anywhere near as fast as we were.”