The Fugitive Worlds (6 page)

At the door to the chamber two ostiaries, sweating under
the weight of their traditional brakka armor, recognized
both men and admitted them without delay. The air in the
room was so hot that Cassyll had to snatch for breath. In her
old age Queen Daseene continually complained of being cold, and the quarters she used were kept at a temperature
which most others found unbearable.

The only person in the room was Lord Sectar, the fiscal
chancellor, whose job it was to control state spending. His
presence was another indication that the Queen had plans
to reclaim the Old World. He was a large and top-heavy man in his sixties, with a jowled face which was florid in normal
conditions and in the excessive heat of the room had turned
bright crimson. He nodded at the newcomers, pointed mutely
at the floor and its buried heating pipes, rolled his eyes to
express consternation, dabbed perspiration from his brow
and went to stand by a partially-open window.

Cassyll responded to the dumb-show with an exaggerated
shrug which mimed helplessness, and sat down on one of the
curved benches which faced the high-backed royal chair. At
once his thoughts were drawn back to the mystery of Bartan's
blue planet. It occurred to him that he had been altogether
too casual in his acceptance of the reported phenomenon.
How could a
world
simply materialize in the nearby regions
of space? New stars had been seen to appear in the sky, and
that being the case one could assume that stars sometimes disappeared, perhaps through explosion, leaving their reti
nues of planets behind. Cassyll could imagine such worlds
blundering through the darkness of the interstellar void, but the chances of one of them joining the local system seemed
vanishingly small. Perhaps the reason he did not feel the
proper degree of astonishment was that in his heart he simply
did not believe in the blue planet. A cloud of gas could have
the semblance of solid rock, after all. . . .

Cassyll stood up as a tipstaff opened the door and pounded
the floor with his metal-shod rod to announce the arrival of
the Queen. Daseene came into the room, dismissed the two
ladies-in-waiting who had accompanied her as far as the door, and went to her chair. She was thin and frail-looking, seemingly burdened by the weight of her green silk robes, but there was undiminished authority in the way in which she signaled for the others to be seated.

"Thank you for your attendance here this foreday," she said in a reedy but firm voice. "I know you have many demands upon your time, so we will go straight to the business of the meeting. As you are already aware, I have received an advance dispatch from the Land expedition. Its contents may be summarized as follows." Daseene went on to describe the expedition's findings in detail, doing so without hesitation or reference to notes. When she had finished she surveyed the group, eyes intent beneath the pearl-beaded coif without which she never appeared in public. As had happened before, it occurred to Cassyll that Daseene could if required have taken over the rulership of Kolcorron at any stage in her husband's career and coped well with the task. It was perhaps surprising that she had usually chosen to remain in the background, except in a few cases where women's rights had been concerned.

"I think you have already divined my purpose in calling this meeting," she went on, speaking in formal High Kolcorronian. "In view of the fact that I shall have a full report from the expedition commanders in only three days from now, you may consider my actions precipitate—but I have reached a stage in life at which I am loathe to waste so much as a single hour.

"I intend to send a fleet to Land without delay.

"It is my intention to establish Ro-Atabri as a
living
capital again before I die; therefore I require decisions from you this very foreday. I also expect the practical work of implementing those decisions to begin as soon as the coming littlenight has ended. So let us be about our work, gentlemen! My first question for you is: how large should the fleet be? You first, Lord Cassyll—what are your views?"

Cassyll blinked as he rose to his feet. This was the style of
rulership developed by the late King Chakkeli to suit the
needs of pioneers on a new world, and he was not at all sure
that it was apposite in the present situation.

"Your Majesty, as loyal subjects we all share your views
about reclaiming the Old World, but may I respectfully point
out that we are not in a state of dire emergency such as
prevailed at the time of the Migration? As yet, we have no
proof that the whole of Land is available to us, so the prudent
course would be to follow up the first expedition with a
primarily military force equipped with airships which could
be reassembled on Land and used to circumnavigate and
survey the planet."

Daseene shook her head. "That course is
too
prudent for
me, and I have no time for it—your father would not have
counseled me thus."

"My father's day has passed, Majesty," Cassyll said.

"Perhaps it has, perhaps it hasn't, but I take your point
about the airships. I propose to send . . . four. How does
that number sound to you?"

Cassyll gave a slight bow, expressing irony. "That number
sounds very good to me, Majesty."

Daseene gave him a faint twisted smile to show that she
had not missed the nuance, then addressed herself to Bartan
Drumme. "Do you foresee any great difficulty in transporting
airships to Land aboard skyships?"

"No, Majesty," Bartan said, standing up. "We could adapt small airship gondolas to serve as skyship gondolas for the
single crossing. On arrival on Land it would simply be a
matter of disconnecting the balloons and replacing them with
airship gasbags."

"Excellent! That is the sort of positive attitude I like
in my advisers." Daseene looked meaningfully at Cassyll. "Now, my lord, how many skyships can be made ready for
the crossing within, say, fifty days?"

Before Cassyll could speak Bartan coughed and said,
"Forgive me, Majesty, I have something to report... a new development. . . something I feel should be brought to your attention at this point."

"Has it any bearing on the discussions in hand?"

Bartan shot Cassyll a worried glance. "It probably has, Majesty."

"In that case," Daseene said impatiently, "you had better speak, but do it quickly."

"Majesty, I ... A new world has been discovered in our own planetary system."

"A new world?" Daseene frowned. "What are you prattling about, Mister Drumme? There can't be a new world."

"I have observed it with my own eyes, Majesty. A blue planet ... a fourth world in our local system. ..." The normally fluent Bartan was floundering as Cassyll had never seen him do before.

"How big is it?"

"We cannot decide that until we are sure how far away it is."

"Very well then." Daseene sighed. "How far away is this infant world of yours?"

Bartan looked deeply unhappy. "We cannot calculate that until we—"

"Until you know its size," the Queen cut in. "Mister Drumme! We are all indebted to you for that little excursion into the marvelously exact science of astronomy, but it is my earnest wish that you should confine your remarks to the subject already in hand. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Majesty," Bartan mumbled, sinking down on to the bench.

"Now . . ." Daseene suddenly shivered, drew her robes closer together at her throat and looked about the room. "No wonder we freeze to death in here! Who opened that window? Close it immediately before we perish from the cold."

Lord Sectar, lips moving silently, got up and closed the
window. His embroidered jacket was heavily stained with sweat and he was ostentatiously mopping his brow as he
returned to his place.

"You don't look well," Daseene told him tersely. "You
should see a doctor." She returned her attention to Cassyil
and repeated her question about the number of skyships that
could be available within fifty days.

"Twenty," Cassyil said at once, deciding that an optimistic
estimate was called for while the Queen was in her present mood. As head of the Sky Service Supplies Board he was in
a good position to judge the quantity of ships and associated
materiel which could be made ready for an interplanetary
crossing as well as being spared from normal function. Ever since the discovery that Farland was inhabited a number of
defensive stations had been maintained in the weightless
zone midway between the two sister worlds. For some years
the great wooden structures had been manned, but as public
fears of an attack from Farland had gradually abated the
crews had been withdrawn. Now the stations and their atten
dant groups of fighter jets were maintained by means of
regular balloon ascents to the weightless zone. The schedule
of flights was undemanding, and Cassyil estimated that about
half the ships in the Sky Service fleet were available for
extraordinary duties.

"Twenty ships," Daseene said, looking slightly disap
pointed. "Still, I suppose that's enough to be getting on with."

"Yes, Majesty—especially as we are not obliged to think
in terms of an invasion fleet. One can foresee continuous
traffic between Overland and Land, sparse at first, but gradu
ally building up until—"

"It's no use, Lord Cassyil," the Queen interrupted. "Again
you are advocating a sedate approach to this enterprise, and
again I say to you I have no time for that. The return to Land
has to be decisive, forceful, triumphant
...
a clear-cut statement which posterity cannot misread. . . .

"It may help you to gauge the strength of my feelings in the matter if I tell you that I have just given one of my granddaughters—the Countess Vantara—permission to take part in the reclamation. She is an experienced airship captain, and will be able to play a useful role in the initial survey of the planet."

Cassyll bowed in acquiescence, and there followed an intensive planning session which—in the space of a single hour—was intended to shape the future of two worlds.

On quitting the overheated atmosphere of the palace Cassyll decided against returning home immediately. A glance at the sky showed him that he had some thirty minutes in hand before the sun would slide behind the eastern rim of Land. He had time for a quiet walk in the tree-lined avenues of the city's administrative area. It would be good to get some fresh air into his system before he responded to the ever-present call of his business commitments.

Accordingly, he dismissed his coachman, strolled down to the Lord Glo Bridge and turned east along the bank of the river, a route which would take him past several governmental buildings. The streets were busy with the flurry of activity which usually preceded the littlenight meal and the daily change of tempo in human affairs. Now that the city was half-a-century old it appeared mature to Cassyll's eyes, with a permanence which was part of his life, and he wondered if he would ever make the journey to Land to view the results of millennia of civilization. She had not said as much, but he suspected it was in Queen Daseene's heart— age-weakened though she was—to return to the world of her birth and perhaps end her days there. Cassyll could empathize with such feelings, but Overland was the only home he had ever known and he had no desire to leave it, especially as so much work remained to be done in so many different spheres. Perhaps, also, he lacked the spirit or courage to face that awesome journey.