Read The Fugitive Worlds Online

Authors: Bob Shaw

Tags: #Science fiction, #Fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #General

The Fugitive Worlds (27 page)

In only ten days, Toller Maraquine,
he thought,
your
insignificant little home world will cease to exist.

Chapter 12

When Cassyll Maraquine emerged from the palace he was
perspiring freely. Regardless of the impropriety for one of
his station, he immediately took off his formal tabard and opened his blouse at the neck, allowing heat to escape from
his body. He breathed deeply of the fresh morning air and
looked around for Bartan Drumme.

"You look like a boiled lobster," Bartan commented jovially, emerging from behind the base of the heroic statue of
King Chakkell which dominated the forecourt as Chakkell
had once dominated the entire planet.

"It was like a baker's oven in there." Cassyll dabbed his
brow with a handkerchief. "Daseene is killing herself, living
in conditions like that, but when I try to advise her to take
the air. ..."

"What is the point of being the ruler if you can't make
death the subject of royal edicts?"

"This is not a fit topic for jests," Cassyll said. "I fear that
Daseene has only a little time left to her—and this astonishing
business of the barrier, plus her worries about the well-being
of Countess Vantara, can only make matters worse."

"You must be concerned for Toller's safety. Is there a
scale upon which such emotions are balanced? Upon which your feelings weigh less heavily on the pan than those of
Daseene?"

"Toller can take care of himself."

Bartan nodded. "Yes, but he isn't his grandfather."

"What does that mean? What manner of convoluted family
tree would I have if my father and my son were one and the
same?" Cassyll demanded, not hiding his vexation.

"I'm sorry, old friend. I love young Toller almost as much
as. . . ." Bartan raised his shoulders to a level with his ears,
a way of agreeing that they should talk about other things.
"Shall we find a comfortable seat?"

"It would be preferable to an uncomfortable seat."

The two men, forcibly nudging each other to show that
their friendship was still intact, walked in the direction of the
Lain River. They reached it near the Lord Glo Bridge, turned
east along the embankment and sat down on a marble bench.
The air was quiet and balmy, pervaded by the kind of
privileged mid-morning calmness which is typical of adminis
trative districts in capital cities. Ptertha were plentiful that
morning, glistening like glass spheres as they followed the course of the river, darting and swooping a few feet above
the surface of the breeze-ruffled water.

Bartan waited only a few seconds and said, "What is the
verdict?"

"She wants to send a fleet."

"Did you tell her there aren't any ships available?"

"She told me not to vex her with minor details." Cassyll
gave a humorless laugh. "Details!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I have promised to find out exactly how many ships can
be made airworthy, by cannibalizing others if necessary, and
report the situation to her. Many engine parts will need to
be repaired or replaced, and there is a dearth of balloon
fabric. It could take as long as twenty days before we can
send anybody aloft, and. . . ."Cassyll fell silent, twisting the gold ring he wore on the sixth finger of his left hand.

"And you were hoping Toller would have returned long
before then," Bartan said sympathetically. "He probably
will
be back . . . with that countess hanging around his neck . . .
It takes a lot to deflect that young man from his course."

"Excellent choice of words—I took some fresh readings
early this foreday and I'd say that the barrier is now almost
a hundred miles across. It means that no ship could possibly
fly around it."

"There you are then!" Bartan said with a display of cheer
fulness. "Toller
has
to come back soon!"

"You're a good friend," Cassyll replied, trying to smile.
"I love you, Bartan, but I would love you even more if you
could tell me why that blue world appeared in our system
and caused a crystal wall to be built between us and our
ancestral planet."

"You think the two are related?"

"I'm
sure
they are related." Cassyll glanced up at the sky, at the enigmatic disk of white light which hovered at the
zenith. "Just as I'm sure that neither bodes us any good."

Chapter 13

"I am going to have much to occupy my mind in the hours to come," Toller said to Divivvidiv, omitting the now-ritual insult about the color of the alien's face as a sign that he was speaking unemotionally, dealing in cold facts.

"Therefore I take this opportunity to make your position absolutely clear to you," he went on. 'it is incumbent on
you
to preserve your own life, and you can best do that by giving me your full support in our venture. If I find you lying to me, or giving me tricky answers to questions, or allowing me to blunder into a danger of which you could have given me a warning—I will kill you. Your execution may not be instantaneous—because you are valuable to me—but, if I believe that you have gone against me in any of the ways I have just mentioned . . . and if subsequently there is a move against us from any quarter . . . you will die immediately.

"You know how readily I act in such matters. At all times I will keep myself prepared to lop your head from your shoulders, and may be so keyed up to do so that any sudden disturbance—even as little as a sneeze from you—could precipitate your demise. I know how great the odds are against me. As far as I am concerned I am practically dead already, so do not delude yourself that you can exert leverage on me in any circumstance. If you want to remain alive you must make yourself an unquestioning instrument of my will.

"Have I made myself clear?"

Very clear,
Divivvidiv replied.
Your tendency to belabor the point shows no sign of fading.

Toller frowned at the alien, wondering if such a craven creature could summon up the nerve to be insolent while in a position of extreme danger. He finished tying all the thongs

on his own skysuit, then took the pistol from Steenameert
to allow him to do likewise. Divivvidiv had already encased
himself in his silver garment, making his general appearance
more acceptable to human eyes, and now there was nothing
to prevent the small group setting out on the journey to the
alien's home planet. Toller tried not to think about what lay ahead. The future he had engineered for himself was filled
with inconceivable menace, but he dared not try to anticipate
the dangers in case he should become prey to self-doubts
which might weaken his hold over Divivvidiv.

"A question before we leave, and before you reply think
of the warnings I gave you," he said to the alien, glancing
around the strange and inhospitable room. "Will the very
fact of your quitting this place alert or in any way give
advantage to those who will oppose us?"

II is
most unlikely,
the alien replied.
The entire facility is
operating automatically. It is most unlikely, at this stage, that
anybody on Dussarra will try to communicate with me in
person.

"Most unlikely? Is that all the assurance you can give?"

You demanded the truth.

"Fair enough." Toller nodded to Steenameert and the trio
moved towards the door by which they had entered the
room. The alien progressed confidently, sliding his feet on the perforated floor, while Toller and Steenameert walked
with a top-heavy roll as though balancing on narrow beams.
When they reached the pressure lock Divivvidiv unclipped
the grey metallic box of his personal propulsion unit from
the wall. He began to fasten it to his waist with gleaming
clamps.

"Leave that," Toller ordered.

But you have seen it before.
Divivvidiv spread his hands in
an oddly human gesture.
It is only my transporter.

"A device which gives you the speed of an arrow—I seem
to remember that you approached with uncanny speed when Baten and I were trapped in your glass cage." Toller prodded
the box with his sword, sending it drifting away from the
alien. "It would be quite pointless for you to burden yourself
with the temptation to try escaping—especially as I intend to escort you to my ship in regal style."

Toller unfastened a coil of thin rope from his belt, passed
the free end around Divivvidiv's body and tied it with a
hard-drawn knot. He pulled Divivvidiv into the pressure lock
with him and Steenameert, and signaled the alien to operate the controls, which resembled blue tablets set in the seamless
grey wall. The inner door slid shut in magical silence, and a
few seconds later the outer hatch opened to give a view of
the metallic grey plain and glittering crystal sea beyond it.
Icy air billowed inwards. Toller drew his scarf up over his
mouth and nose, glad to be escaping from the oppressive
architecture of the station's interior, and went forward into
the familiar skyscapes of the weightless zone.

The sun had moved closer to Overland, and in doing so had
crossed the datum plane, rising above the artificial horizon
created by the vast disk which Toller now knew to be an
incomprehensible machine. Rays of sunlight, striking billions
of crystals at a shallow angle, created barricades of prismatic
fire which dazzled the eye. So great was the brilliance that
even Overland, a hemicircle of luminance which spanned the
sky directly above, was dim and ghostly in comparison.

Toller paid out his line a short distance, activated his
propulsion unit and set off for the Inner Defense Group with
Divivvidiv being dragged in an undignified slow spin in his
wake. The trio flew out over the rim of the alien station, the
sound of their exhausts greedily absorbed by the surrounding
void. Toller kept silent during the flight and concentrated on
remembering all the steps involved in taking a spaceship outside the air bridge. During his two obligatory training
sessions everything had seemed very simple and obvious, but
that had been years in the past and now the complexities
appeared enormous.

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