Also, the cube he had put on the tray had started replaying his instructions. It was set for sixty times by pressing the white spot three times, but the talos might not take in the tray until after the recordings were finished.
The topaz quit flashing. He lifted the door. The tray was gone. “If the talos does what I tell him to, we’re okay,” he said to the Teutoniac. “At least, we’ll be out of here. If the talos doesn’t obey me, then it’s glub, glub, glub, and an end to our worries.”
He told Do Shuptarp to follow him into the anteroom. There they stood for perhaps sixty seconds. Kickaha said, “If nothing happens soon, we might as well kiss our …”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They were standing on a round plate of gray metal in a large room. The furniture was exotic, Early Rhadamanthean Period. The walls and floor were of rose-red and jet-veined stone. There were no doors or windows, although one wall seemed to be a window which gave a view of the outside.
“There’ll be lights to indicate that we’re now in this cell,” Kickaha said. “Let’s hope the Bellers won’t figure out what they mean.”
With all these unexplained lights on, the Bellers must be in a panic. Undoubtedly, they were prowling the palace to find out what—if anything—was wrong.
Presently, a section of the seemingly solid wall moved and disappeared into the wall itself. Kickaha led the way out. A talos, six and a half feet tall, armored like a knight, waited for them. It handed him the black-cube recorder.
Kickaha said, “Thank you,” and then, “Observe us closely. I am your master. This man is my servant. Both of us are to be served by you unless this man, my servant, does something that might harm me. Then you are to stop him from trying to harm me.
“The other beings in this palace are my enemies, and you are to attack and kill any as soon as you see one or more than one. First, though, you will take this cube, after I have spoken a message into it, and you will let the other taloses hear it. It will tell them to attack and kill my enemies. Do you understand fully?”
The talos saluted, indicating that he comprehended. Kickaha spoke into the cube, set it to repeat the message a thousand times, and gave it to the talos. The armored thing saluted again, turned, and marched off.
Kickaha said, “They carry out orders superbly, but the last one to get their ear is their master. Wolff knew this, but he didn’t want to change their setup. He said that this characteristic night actually work out to his advantage someday, and it wasn’t likely that any invader would know about it.”
Kickaha next told Do Shuptarp how to handle a beamer if he should get his hands on one, then they set out for the armory of the palace. To get to it, they had to cross one entire floor of this wing and then descend six stories. Kickaha took the stair-cases, since the Bellers would be using the elevators.
Do Shuptarp was awed at the grandeur of the palace. The great size of the rooms and their furnishings, each containing treasure enough to have bought all the kingdoms in Dracheland, reduced him to a gasping and slavering creature. He wanted to stop so he could look and feel and, perhaps, fill his pockets. Then he became cowed, because the absolute quiet and the richness made him feel as if he were in an extremely sacred place.
“We could wander for days and never meet another soul,” he said.
Kickaha said, “We could if I didn’t know where I was going.” He wondered how effective the fellow would be. He was probably a first-rate warrior under normal circumstances. His handling of himself in the water-filled chamber proved that he was courageous and adaptable. But to be in the palace of the Lord was for him as frightening, as numinous an experience, as it would be for a terrestrial Christian to be transported to the City of God—and to discover that devils had taken over.
Near the foot of the staircase, Kickaha smelled melted metal and plastic and burned protoplasm. Cautiously, he stuck his head around the corner. About a hundred feet down the hall, a talos lay sprawled on its front. An armored arm, burned off at the shoulder by a beamer, lay nearby.
Two Black Bellers, or so Kickaha presumed they were from the caskets attached to their backs by harnesses, lay dead. Their necks were twisted almost completely around. Two Bellers, each holding a handbeamer, were talking excitedly. One held what was left of the black cube in his hand. Kickaha grinned on seeing it. It had been damaged by the beamer and so must have stopped its relay. Thus, the Bellers would not know why the talos had attacked them or what the message was in the cube.
“Twenty-nine down. Twenty-one to go,” Kickaha said. He withdrew his head.
“They’ll be on their guard now,” he muttered.
“The armory would’ve been unguarded, probably, if this hadn’t happened. But now that they know something’s stalking upwind, they’ll guard it for sure. Well, we’ll try another way. It could be dangerous, but then what isn’t? Let’s go back up the stairs.”
He led Do Shuptarp to a room on the sixth story. This was about six hundred feet long and three hundred feet wide and contained stuffed animals and some stuffed sentients from many universes. They passed a transparent cube in which was embedded, like a dragonfly in amber, a creature that seemed to be half-insect, half-man. It had antennae and huge but quite human eyes, a narrow waist, skinny legs covered with a pinkish fuzz, four skinny arms, a great humped back, and four butterflylike wings radiating from the hump.
Despite the urgency of action, Do Shuptarp stopped to look at the strangeling. Kickaha said, “That exhibit is ten thousand years old. That kwiswas, coleopterman, is the product of Anana’s biolabs, or so I was told, any way. The Lord of this world made a raid on his sister’s world and secured some specimens for his museum. This kwiswas, I understand, was Anana’s lover at that time, but you can’t believe everything you hear, especially if one Lord is telling it about another. And all that, of course, was some time ago.”
The monstrously large eyes had been staring through the thick plastic for ten millennia, five thousand years before civilization had set in on Earth. Though Kickaha had seen it before, he still felt awe, uneasiness, and insignificance before it. How strongly and cleverly had this creature fought to preserve its life just as Kickaha was now fighting for his? Perhaps as vigorously and wildly. And then it had died, as he must, too, and it had been stuffed and set up to observe with unseeing eyes the struggles of others. All passed …
He shook his head and blinked his eyes. To philosophize was fine, if you did so under appropriate circumstances. These were not appropriate. Besides, so death came to all, even to those who avoided it as ingeniously and powerfully as he! So what? One extra minute of life was worth scrapping for, provided that the minutes that had gone before had been worthy minutes.
“I wonder what this thing’s story was?” Do Shuptarp muttered.
“Our story will come to a similar end if we don’t get a move on,” Kickaha said.
At the end wall of the room, he twisted a projection that looked as fixed as the rest of the decorations. He turned the projection to the right 160 degrees, then to the left 160, and then spun it completely around twice to the right. A section of wall slid back. Kickaha breathed out tension of uncertainty. He had not been sure that he remembered the proper code. The possibility was strong that a wrong manipulation would have resulted in anything from a cloud of poisonous gas or vapor to a beam which would cut him in half.
He pulled in Do Shuptarp after him. The Teutoniac started to protest. Then he began to scream as both fell down a lightless shaft. Kickaha clapped his hand over Do Shuptarp’s mouth and said, “Quiet! We won’t be hurt!”
The wind of their descent snatched his words away. Do Shuptarp continued to struggle, but he subsided when they began to slow down in their fall. Presently, they seemed to be motionless. The walls suddenly lit up, and they could see that they were falling slowly. The shaft a few feet above them and a few feet below them was dark. The light accompanied them as they descended. Then they were at the bottom of the shaft. There was no dust, although the darkness a
bove the silence felt as if the place had not seen a living creature for hundreds of years.
Angrily, the Teutoniac said, “I may have heart failure yet.”
Kickaha said, “I had to do it that way. If you knew how you were going to fall, you’d never have gone through with it on your own. It would have been too much to ask you.”
“You jumped,” Do Shuptarp said.
“Sure. And I’ve practiced it a score of times. I didn’t have the guts either until I’d seen Wolff—the Lord—do it several times.”
He smiled. “Even so, this time, I wasn’t sure that the field was on. The Bellers could have turned it off. Wouldn’t that have been a good joke on us?”
Do Shuptarp did not seem to think it was funny. Kickaha turned from him to the business of getting out of the shaft. This demanded beating a code with his knuckles on the shaft wall. A section slid out, and they entered a whitewalled room about thirty feet square and well illuminated. It was bare except for a dozen crescents set in the stone floor and a dozen hanging on wallpegs. The crescents were unmarked.
Kickaha put out a hand to restrain Do Shuptarp.
“Not a step more! This room is dangerous unless you go through an undeviating ritual. And I’m not sure I remember it all!”
The Teutoniac was sweating, although the air was cool and moving slightly. “I was going to ask why we didn’t come here in the first place,” he said, “instead of walking through the corridors. Now, I see.”
“Let’s hope you continue to see,” Kickaha said ambiguously. He advanced three steps forward straight from the entrance. Then he walked sideways until he was even with the extreme rightend crescent on the wall. He turned around once and walked to the crescent, his right arm extended stiffly at right angles to the floor. As soon as his fingertips touched the crescent, he said, “Okay, soldier. You can walk about as you please now—I think.”
But he lost his smile as he studied the crescents. He said, “One of these will gate us to inside the armory. But I can’t remember which. The second from the right or the third?”
Do Shuptarp asked what would happen if the wrong crescent were chosen.
“One of these—I don’t know which—would gate us into the control room,” he said. “I’d choose that if I had a beamer or if I thought the Bellers hadn’t rigged extra mass-intrusion alarms in the control room. And if I knew which it was.
“One will gate us right back to the underground prison from which we just came. A third would gate us to the moon. A fifth, to the Atlantean level. I forget exactly what the others will do, except that one would put you into a universe that is, to say the least, undesirable.”
Do Shuptarp shivered and said, “I am a brave man. I’ve proved that on the battlefield. But I feel like a baby lost in a forest full of wolves.”
Kickaha didn’t answer, although he approved of Do Shuptarp’s frankness. He could not make up his mind about the second or third crescent. He had to pick one because there was no getting back up the shaft—like so many routes in the palace, it was oneway.
Finally, he said, “I’m fairly sure it’s the third. Wolffs mind favors threes or multiples thereof. But …”
He shrugged and said, “What the hell. We can’t stand here forever.”
He matched the third righthand crescent with the third from the left on the floor. “I do remember that the loose crescents go with opposing fixed ones,” he said. He carefully explained to Do Shuptarp the procedure for using a gate and what they might expect. Then the two stepped into the circle formed by the two crescents. They waited for about three seconds. There was no sensation of movement or flicker of passage before their eyes, but, abruptly, they were in a room about three hundred feet square. Familiar and exotic weapons and armor were in shelves on the walls or in racks and stands on the floor.
“We made it,” Kickaha said. He stepped out of the circle and said, “We’ll get some handbeamers and powerpacks, some rope, and a spy-missile guider and goggles. Oh, yes, some short-range hand-grenades, too.”
He also picked two well-balanced knives for throwing. Do Shuptarp tried out his beamer on a small target at the armory rear. The metal disc, which was six inches thick, melted away within five seconds. Kickaha strapped a metal box to his back in a harness. This contained several spy-missiles, power broad-castingreceiving apparatus for the missiles, and the video-audio goggles.
Kickaha hoped that the Bellers had not come across these yet. If they had guards who were looking around corners or prowling the corridors with the missiles, it was goodbye.
The door had been locked by Wolff, and, as nearly as Kickaha could determine, no one had unlocked it. It had many safeguards to prevent access by unauthorized persons from the outside, but there was nothing to prevent a person on the inside from leaving without hindrance. Kickaha was relieved. The Bellers had not been able to penetrate this, which meant they had no spy-missiles. Unless, that is, they had brought some in from the other universes. But since the crafts had used none, he did not think they had any.
He put on the goggles over his eyes and ears and, holding the control box in his hands, guided a missile out the open doors. The missile was about three inches long and was shaped like a schoolboy’s folded-paper airplane. It was transparent, and the tiny colored parts could be seen in a strong light at certain angles. Its nose contained an “eye,” through which Kickaha could get a peculiar and limited view and an “ear” through which he could hear noises, muted or amplified as he wished.
He turned the missile this way and that, saw that no one was in the hall, and shoved the goggles up on top of his head. When he left the armory, he closed the door, knowing that it would automatically lock and arm itself. He used his eyes to guide the missile on the straightaway, and when he wanted to look around corners, he slipped the goggles down.
Kickaha and Do Shuptarp, with the missile, covered about six miles of horizontal and vertical travel, leaving one wing and crossing another to get to the building containing the control room. The trip took longer than a mere hike because of their caution.
Once, they passed by a colossal window close to the edge of the monolith on which the palace sat. Do Shuptarp almost fainted when he saw the sun. It was below him. He had to look downward to see it. Seeing the level of Atlantis spread out flatly for a five hundred mile radius, and then a piece of the level below that, and a shard of still a lower one, made him turn white.
Kickaha pulled him away from the window and tried to explain the tower structure of the planet and the rotation of the tiny sun about it. Since the palace was on top of the highest monolith of the planet, it was actually above the sun, which was at the level of the middle monolith.
The Teutoniac said he understood this. But he had never seen the sun except from his native level. And, of course, from the moon. But both times the sun had seemed high.
“If you think that was a frightening experience,” Kickaha said, “you should look over the edge of the world sometime from the bottom level, the Garden level.”
They entered the central massif of the building, which housed the control room. Here they proceeded even more slowly. They walked down a Brobdingnagian hall lined with mirrors which gave, not the outer physical reflection, but the inner physical reflection. Rather, as Kickaha explained, each mirror detected the waves of a different area of the brain and then synthesized these with music and colors and subsonics and gave them back as visual images. Some were hideous and some beautiful and some outrageously obscene and some almost numinously threatening.
“They don’t mean anything,” Kickaha said, “unless the viewer wants to interpret what they mean to him. They have no objective meaning.”
Do Shuptarp was glad to get on. Then Kickaha took a staircase broad enough for ten platoons of soldiers almost to march up. This wound up and up and seemed never to end, as if it were the staircase to Heaven itself.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Finally, the Teutoniac begged for a rest; Kickaha consented. He sent the s
py-missile up for another look. There were no Bellers on the floor below that on which the control room was. There were the burned and melted bodies of ten taloses, all on the first six steps of the staircase. Apparently, they had been marching up to attack the Bellers in the control room, and they had been beamed down. The device which may have done this was crouching at the top of the stairs. It was a small black box on wheels with a long thin neck of gray metal. At its end was a tiny bulb. This bulb could detect and beam a moving mass at a maximum distance of forty feet.
It moved the long neck back and forth to sweep the staircase. It did not notice the missile as it sped overhead, which meant that the snake-neck, as Kickaha termed it, was set to detect only larger masses. Kickaha turned the missile and sent it down the hall toward the double doors of the control room. These were closed. He did see, through the missile’s “eye,” that there were many small discs stuck on the walls all along the corridor—mass-detectors. Their fields were limited, however. A narrow aisle would be left down the center of the corridor so that the warned might walk in it without setting off alarms. And there must be visual devices of some sort out here, too, since the Bellers would not neglect these. He moved the missile very slowly along the ceiling because he did not want it seen. And then he spotted devices. They were hidden in the hollowed-out heads of two busts on tops of pedestals. The hollowing-out had been done by the Bellers.
Kickaha brought the missile back carefully and took off the goggles, then led Do Shuptarp up the staircase. They had not gone far before they smelled the burned protoplasm and plastic. When they were on the floor with the carnage, Kickaha stopped the Teutoniac.
“As near as I can figure out,” he said, “they’re all holed up now in the control room. It’s up to us to smoke them out or rush them before they get us. I want you to watch our rear at all times. Keep looking! There are many gates in the control room which transmit you to other places in the palace. If the Bellers have figured them out, they’ll be using them. So watch it!”
The World of Tiers Volume One: The Maker of Universes, the Gates of Creation, and a Private Cosmos Page 56
