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The Emperor held his arms in the air, calling on his gods. The spectators had moved away, leaving an empty space, and he was searching the sky and the earth beneath, hoping for an intervention. 'The yellow snake has whispered to him, Baas,' said Julian. There was a rumbling and a rattling of keys out beyond the door of the cell. The jailer opened up. 'All you prisoners are needed outside in the stadium. You are to help according to your abilities. An Imperial pardon for all those who do their duty!' A shout of joy went up from the wretches crowding at the window. They were then let out, not through the dreaded door to the arena but into the spectator side. The prisoners got out amongst the spectators, who cursed them and told them to keep away. Venner and Julian, along with the rest of the prisoners, felt themselves being pushed by the movement of the crowd towards the Emperor, who stood like a statue among the tiers of the stadium. 'Are these the gods I was told about?' he asked. 'Certainly they are, your Highness,' said an old woman. 'They have the power!' The dinosaurs were piles of carrion by this time, having suffered the onslaught of wolves and panthers. Lions, bears, and other creatures had also been released onto the sand to feed on the torn tyrannosaurus rex carcases riddled with arrows. But the Emperor was taking no interest in what might be happening in the arena. He was looking down at the floor. Venner followed the line of his gaze and was just in time to glimpse a yellow snake disappearing into a crack in the stonework. 'No one knew he was here except you, me, and the Caesar-Baas, Baas,' whispered Julian. The Emperor turned to Venner and raised his right hand as if saluting an equal. 'Mercury visited me in the shape of a snake,' said the Emperor. 'He said a grave injustice was taking place that could bring my whole dynasty, which I have worked so long to secure, down into the dust.' 'Which injustice is that, Your Majesty?' 'Why, you two gods were going to be let out into the arena to be attacked by wild beasts. You have done us the honour of coming in human shape to visit Rome. Mercury explained that while you are here you have all the vulnerabilities of ordinary men. If you are hurt whilst under my care there will be an accounting on the slopes of Olympus.' Venner decided not to dispute this view of the case. The Emperor snapped his fingers and two soldiers in white-enamelled armour and red-plumed helmets appeared at his side. With them was an olive-skinned fellow in a tunic and cloak. On his feet were sandals studded with precious stones. It was the latter who approached Caesar. The fellow cupped his chin and smoothly angled his head towards the monarch. He had an extremely winning smile. 'These honoured guests will be coming to the dinner tonight, Philippos. They will sit with me and my wife. Make the arrangements.' 'It is done, divinity,' said the slave in a Greek accent. He trotted away about his business. The Emperor and his guard, and Venner and Julian, went across the walkway over to the shady stand covered with cushions and tables loaded with delicacies where the monarch could sit to watch the entertainment. In the arena it was clean-up time. Bones and chunks of flesh and hide were being piled into wagons, and blood-soaked sand was being collected for use as fertiliser. Satiated carnivores had been penned into one section of the arena before being driven back to their cages in the bowels of the amphitheatre. 'Down here, my honoured guests,' said Caesar, motioning them into a doorway beyond which was a ramp that led out of the stadium. There on the road three sedan chairs were waiting with two Nubian porters at each end. 'The palace for us!' said the Emperor to Venner conspiratorially as he climbed into the first curtained-off cubicle. The black slaves began to trot with a smooth motion that allowed the occupant to read, write, entertain a guest, or sleep in comfort. 'One each, that's great,' said Venner. He followed His Majesty's example by jumping into the next sedan. 'Wait, Baas, I would rather run behind your cabin than have one of my own. I don't want to get behind those curtains, I'd like to breathe the air of Rome.' 'On the other hand, the mob might take against you. You could be kidnapped, or knifed. You would be safer inside.' 'All right, Baas,' said Julian, climbing nimbly into the third sedan. It was a smooth journey, like a sailing boat. The curtains let the light in but were otherwise opaque except for flitting shadows. You had to twitch them aside to see the crowds through which the sedans were passing. On a whim of Caesar's they stopped at a market stall. The merchant was given a purse containing enough gold to allow him to retire, and the three sedans were provided with fruits of all kinds, many of which were unknown to Venner. The sedan had a pull-down table and plates and cutlery in a basket. He ate a handful of dates, then cut open a melon and bit into the slippery sweetness. Though the bearers moved smoothly enough, they were unable to compensate for a number of cosmic tremors, accompanied by tremendous crashes and what sounded like groans from the very bowels of the earth. At last they arrived at a great doorway leading into a hall where there was a pool. All was pervaded with the smell of perfumes. Feeling his sedan being lowered to the ground, Venner leapt out from behind the curtains, as did Julian. They saw the Emperor striding up a flight of steps and hurried to catch up with him. A corridor led to a room where there were clouds of steam. 'These people love their swimming pools, Baas,' said Julian. 'You may bathe and relax yourselves. These young women are trained to relieve the weary traveller,' said Caesar. 'Your Majesty, will these buildings withstand the earthquakes?' asked Venner. 'What earthquakes?' said Caesar. 'If you have a bath, Baas, I will let them wash me down too,' said Julian. Each of them was led by a girl to a place where they were requested to take off their clothes. Then they walked down steps into water that was just above body heat. Buckets of warmer water were added all the time. Next came a scrubbing and oiling, and muscular black men gestured to them to get onto tables where they could be pounded and massaged. 'I am sure I met this boy before, Baas. He comes from the Mwengani tribe,' said the Hottentot. Resigned to his fate, Julian let his girl and her massive assistant lead him behind a curtain. Soon he was shouting 'Ooooh, ooh, ooh!' 'Would you like me to groom you in the top style, sir?' asked the maiden who had led Venner about through clouds of steam and was now scraping the sweat off his skin. Waving a masseur aside, he found a couch and sank down onto it. The maid was beside him. 'Would you wish to taste the delights of Venus?' she asked, bowing her head in submission. 'Not now,' said Venner, thinking that he might need his strength later. 'But surely I may groom you like this,' she said with a laugh, and falling onto him with a pair of tweezers, she began to pluck hairs from his chest. Venner immediately began duplicating the sounds Julian was making. Then, wrapped in towels, Venner and Julian were allowed by the laughing beauty specialists to have a rest on a padded bench that ran along one wall. 'I think this world is going widdershins, and fast, Baas.' Venner, who longed for a shave but did not wish to get any more of the plucking treatment from these beauticians, rubbed his stubble. 'What makes you say that?' 'When we were carried along in the little huts I looked out.' 'So did I.' 'And you din't notice it?' 'Notice what?' 'The topsy-turvy sun.' 'Yeah?' 'Absolutely, Baas. The sun should move from the left hand to the right hand. This one was going right to left. Just watch the shadows long enough and you will see.' Venner nodded. It all fitted in. The earthquakes, the dinosaurs, the snake. The place was cracking up. Then the Emperor sent for them and they were led through a number of passages in the palace to a whitewashed room with shutters well perforated to catch what wind there was. A bowl on a tripod before the Emperor contained a crackling fire. A trolley piled with tea things was brought in. This was another sign, thought Venner: tea did not accord with the time scale of this section of the holographic whirligig. 'Honey cakes!' said the Emperor, lifting the cover off a plate of pastries. Well, thought Venner, these at least are in harmony with this era of the city of Romulus. No reason not to pile in on a handful of these. He took a hot cup of tea with them as well, and Julian followed his example. The older lady with the tea things bustled around cheerfully, treating them all as equals. Though she was wearing Roman attire she, and the trolley she drove like a carriage and four, would have fitted into any hotel in the galaxy. 'There is a fellow you might like to talk to, someone whose skills we
re instrumental to our safety as well as our enjoyment this afternoon at the stadium.' 'Who could that be, Majesty?' The Emperor nodded to a slave and he opened the door. In walked a fellow dressed in a green tunic and high boots. In his hand was a pole as tall as he was. Looking closer, Venner could see it was an unstrung bow. Crashes and rumblings underneath the earth shook the building from time to time. 'So you were at the hunt in the stadium?' said Venner. 'Yes, and if you like, you and your companion can share in the thrills of the hunt,' said the bowman. Caesar nodded his encouragement and gestured for Venner and Julian to follow the archer. A purple woollen curtain ran the whole length of the baths. The bowman went through an opening in it and Venner and Julian followed. There was a hallway on the other side, and he led them through a ceiling-to-floor window with folded-back shutters but no glass, out onto a stretch of parkland. The area was dense with tall trees, many of them oaks. Venner could see no buildings now, not even the palace. It was obvious that they had moved into another section of the Holodream Suite. 'We have to be on the watch,' said the archer, stringing his bow. He picked up a quiver bulging with yard-long arrows from a hiding place in the trunk of a tree. Galloping hooves were heard, and the three took cover in a clump of bushes. 'A pox on these men of the sheriff's,' said the archer. 'They are the very scourge,' 'The scourge of Sherwood?' suggested Venner. 'Yes, they are that. Of Sherwood itself,' said the grim-faced outlaw.
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As soon as Prince Barratat and his two gorillas left, Spurgo suggested breaking open a few bottles of red. 'Anything wrong, Drax?' 'Only that I've now got to watch myself with the Prince and his boys. I'm sure they've detected my Galerian sympathies. Around them, these can be fatal. I won't go back to the apartment tonight. I don't want to find Russ and Tyler there. or the big man himself. Maybe I should never go back, just write the place off for good and hit the road.' 'Stay here a few days if you like.' 'You mean that? That's marvellous, thank you.' said Drax. This took off some of his immediate anxieties. He was starting to piece together in his mind strategies for living through the next few days and weeks without meeting a nasty fate at the hands of the agents of Barratat Galerian. Mitzi put into the audioprogram a handful of Earth songs and one or two of the schmaltz tunes recorded by Tyro of Tursa. Drax watched with interest as Kal Hertig's eyes followed the holodoll around the room. Hertig was gloating at the siliconee beauty quite openly. But the owner of the living doll, Erloch Spurgo, appeared to notice nothing. 'Did you look at that advertising material I gave you?' said Mitzi to Hertig. 'Of course. Yes, they had a good range there, with fine specifications, some of them, but they didn't measure up to the high-end model I had set my thoughts on.' Mitzi, whose charm mode was in operation, remained adorably inscrutable. 'This red is great,' said Drax to his host. 'Yeah, what's better than an informal celebration alongside a friend or two, with the old Veloran red, by Gar, or this Aldebaran? Wonderful times we've had on this kind of stuff,' said Spurgo, who had sunk onto his adjustable chair. He had had this made on the same principles as his bed, and like his bed it fascinated him. 'Really and truly, I'm a home boy,' he went on. 'I only go out to the bars on a raid, as it were. You see, you've got to keep an eye on things and feel the currents in the air. See and be seen, pick up the gossip, you get me?' 'Absolutely. I like this red. You say it's not Veloran?' 'No, Aldebaran. Cheap and irresistible.' 'Well, I love it because a few glasses help me to forget,' said Drax, 'Forget the bind you're in?' 'Yeah,' said Drax, 'Another thing is, you see, that the Prince doesn't like blabbing lips. I would never say anything, of course, but he can't afford to trust in that. He'll regard me now as a prime candidate for a bullet. He thinks I'm about to join the ranks of the Patriotic Resurgence of Pellax.' Spurgo put his hand on the Pellacian's muscled shoulder. 'You are a trained man, Drax, and a true one. I know that. I like what I've seen of you, by Gar. You can have a place beside me any time you like. Prince Barratat Galerian will think twice before striking at me or mine. Won't you ride the Fish Eagle for a while and take your chances?' 'I'll not only have nothing to lose that way, but everything to gain,' said Drax, sticking out his hand which the Pluronian pirate warmly shook. 'If everything is taken into account, including what went on here tonight, I am wondering what I might be able to do to help the cause of this Venner character, if he ever gets out of that Holodream I pushed him into.' said Drax. 'The Ralladars sum up all that is great in the traditions of my home planet. I've always known that, though of course like everyone I've had to deal with the domain the Galerians have wielded over us for decades.' 'You're nostalgic for Pellax?' 'I suppose I am. And this Lupo Venner, or whatever his name is, will be better for that old whirling ball of clay than Barratat. Yes, it would be wonderful to see a restoration of the Ralladar Kleissenbergs on good old Pellax, and goodbye to the Galerians. They'll not be missed. And you, Erl, who are you for?' 'Anyone who pays, by Gar. But not Prince Barratat.' Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Hertig muttered to Mitzi: 'A catalogue doll is not for me.' 'I was just a blank catalogue doll with no programming when I started out. And I was renewed and rebooted for my new owner.' Mitzi slunk away to the kitchen. Drax noted that Spurgo looked from the doll to Kalat Hertig and back with an enigmatic expression. Hertig was puffing on a cigar, seemingly adrift in a reverie of romance.
By the Time I Get to Pellax Page 15
