by Ernst Vlcek
Behind us the footsteps of our pursuers were audible on the stairs.
“What are we still waiting for?” grunted Fratulon. He started to move but I placed at hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
“Don’t you notice something?” I asked him. “A sound in the airlike humming. Take a good look at the filaments of the web. You can’t seem them clearly. They seem to be slightly out of focus and blurred. They’re vibrating, Fratulon!”
Not far from us a Zagor appeared. He seemed not to notice us. Instead, he moved with a sort of ambling and wandering gait through the desert.
“If we go into the desert now and are exposed to hallucinations?” said Ice Claw with a shudder, “we’ll be lost!”
“Would you rather surrender yourself to Vafron?” asked Fratulon, and he ran onward into the desert.
A shout came from behind us. “There they are!”
Then I hesitated no longer but fled also into the desert, with Ice Claw close behind me.
“I guess it’s all the same to me whether I get shot or I melt away in the heat of the sun?” muttered the chretkor.
Suddenly an arc of light like an intertwined rainbow seemed to emerge before me—and I stepped into it.
* * * *
It didn’t do me any good to tell myself that this was only a mirage produced by the strands of the web. Even though I was conscious of being victimized by it, the hallucination could not be dispelled.
The illusion was complete.
Beneath me was a broad band of light that was composed of all colours of the spectrum. The rainbow path was easy to walk on, feeling soft and resilient under foot. It made a steep ascent before me, reached a high crest and then made a broad curve to finally complete its circle.
The most fascinating part about it was that the colour band widened out with distance rather than narrowing in perspective. Even while I ascended I still felt that I was on a level surface. Gravity seemed to be effective in all directions of the rainbow on which I found myself. I ascended yet seemed to stay on the ground, and I developed the impression that I was running in one spot, while the rainbow continued to move beneath me. I seemed to be some laboratory animal running in an endless treadmill, getting nowhere although it raced beneath me like mad.
It made no sense to me to keep moving in one spot, so I attempted to push my way to the edge of the rainbow. I left the blue zone, ran across various hues of green into the yellow band, changed from there into the orange area and then reached the field of red. I must be almost there! Lavender, violet, blue—now I must be at the rainbow’s extremity. Blue—green—yellow—red… I became desperate.
Then the apparition dissolved.
I was in the desert once more.
What had become of Fratulon and Ice Claw? Where were Vafron and his companions?
And where was the giant spider web? I looked up into the sky. There were no silvery strands above me. Was I no longer in the Spider Desert?
Suddenly, there was Tarkihl. It loomed above the desert like a low bronze mountain. Someone was running toward me. It was Farnathia, beloved Farnathia!
“Atlan—watch out!”
I threw myself at the feet of the girl of my dreams
There was an explosion as though a sun had burst above me. Although I had not looked into the exploding ball of fire, I was blinded. Farnathia had dissolved into nothingness. It must have been caused by Fratulon’s calling to me.
Instead of Farnathia I suddenly saw a soldier. He and I were standing together in the midst of the nothingness. Only the two of us. He moved toward me in a strange manner while red flashes seemed to shoot from his right arm. Some of the flashes struck me in the face and I sensed a sweetish taste on my lips.
Blood!
The soldier was bleeding. His uniform was in rags. He seemed not to notice me. There was a transfigured look on his face as though he were seeing something miraculous which was veiled from my own vision.
One of Vafron’s men!—I thought with a start. He was wounded and couldn’t see me. His right arm hung limply from his side, but the left hand was raised up, clutching a ray weapon. His index finger curved inward, and suddenly there was a blinding sunburst very nearby.
“I’ve caught you, Fratulon!” shouted the man. His voice sounded strangely pleasant in my ears, but I was displeased that he had mistaken me for Fratulon. “And I’m going to kill you whether Vafron likes it or not!”
Suddenly I was seeing strange images that were anything but pleasant visions—somebody wearing armour, striking at a man who was spewing death from his energy weapon. The man with the sword was Fratulon; the other collapsed in a fountain of blood. Then this realistic picture instantly vanished—and instead I saw the soldier burst into bloom. All over his body it seemed that red buds were shooting out of him, unfolding flowery leaves of blood which then became a red flood that poured into the desert sands.
Something grabbed hold of me.
I heard Fratulon’s hoarse voice. “Look at him closely. He was one of our enemies. I have killed him.”
I stared at the sea of red blossoms. They wilted and flowed away, becoming grainy like desert sand.
“Atlan, do you see the desert sands, saturated red with the blood of our enemy?”
Yes, I saw the reality of it!
“Shake off your illusion!” he urged me. “It works if you concentrate on specific points of reality. There concentrate on that spot of blood!”
“Everything is swimming in front of my eyes!” I muttered irritably. In the place of the bloodsoaked desert sands was a sea of red water.
“Our enemies aren’t faring any better?” Fratulon explained. “They’ve also been hit by these hallucinations much more than I. Many times I can shake off the mirages and see clearly. You must try it, too, Atlan!”
I made an effort to do so, and for a moment I really saw Fratulon before me with his chest armour all spattered with the enemy’s blood. “I can’t look at any more red!” I cried out—and was again immersed in the reddish ocean.
“Stay here. Don’t budge from the spot!” Fratulon ordered. “I see one of the enemy watching Ice Claw, but he doesn’t seem to consider him as an opponent…”
Fratulon seemed to swim away, or was he wading? No, that wasn’t right, because when a person waded through water he had to go against some kind of resistance. Fratulon was running as though there were no obstacle at all before him. In actuality there was no resistance, the water only existed in the world of my illusions.
I held out in my place as Fratulon had instructed me to do. The waves rocked me back and forth and I seemed to be getting seasick. It’s nothing but imagination!—I told myself. But it didn’t help the nausea that was rising in me. I had to get out of there. Then I saw salvation over my head—a pier or platform of some kind. How steady it seemed in the plunging surf.
I jumped but fell short of my goal. I blinked, and then I recognized what it really was. Instead of a lifesaving landing platform I was looking at the deadly web of silvery strands!
The other one also made a jump. Who he was or where he came from I didn’t know. For me he was just the other one. Did he also wish to save himself from the foaming sea on a more “peaceful shore?” Let him go ahead, and then there'd be one less scoundrel in the world.
But what then, if the other one was Ice Claw!?
“Ice Claw!” I yelled, and walked across the raging tide toward him. “Ice Claw, don’t—it will be your death!”
“Now I’ll get you, you hell hound!” bellowed the other one. It was not Ice Claw, after all. “I’ll break your neck with my bare hands, old Bellystitcher!”
Then I knew that the other one was either Vafron or one of his men. Now Fratulon appeared at my left, but the man looked upward as though Sawbones could be seen in that direction. Undoubtedly he saw him there, but he didn’t know that a miragelike reflection of the air was fooling him. Fratulon used it to his advantage. With drawn Skarg, he crept toward his adversary—and the latter believed that the threat
approached him from above.
He sprang upward, and this time he managed to grasp something. But his cry of triumph died on his lips before he could get it out. I stared at him, fascinated—he had turned into a creature of incredible beauty. I knew what was there in reality, although my eyes were shielded from it.
“That’s one more out of the way!” I heard Fratulon sing out. “Now all that’s left is Vafron! Here—I’m bringing Ice Claw to you. From now on, the two of you stay together!
Somebody clutched at my clothing. “You’re cold as a block of ice, Atlan!” I heard Ice Claw’s familiar voice.
For a moment I saw the chretkor’s crystalline face, but then I was alone again, enshrouded by veils of greenish light. Only the pressure of Ice Claw’s hand told me that he was there.
“There’s nothing cold around here for miles, Ice Claw?” I said. “We are in the Spider Desert and the sun is burning down on us. You have to get that into your consciousness.”
“But I’m cold!” wailed the chretkor. “What good is it for my reason to grasp the truth of things? For me my feelings are what count. And I feel the coldness creeping into my body. Don’t bump me, Atlan, or I’ll break to pieces!”
“Ice Claw, it’s hot!” I insisted, trying to make it sink into his mind.
“No! No!” he countered. “Whatever you say—I feel myself growing stiff! And the cold is coming from you! Dammit, Atlan, you’re cold!”
He let loose of me abruptly.
“Ice Claw, don’t run away!” I called after him desperately, groping about me. But the chretkor was no longer there.
“I need a warm climate.” I heard his voice emerge from somewhere out of the green veils of light. “Got to have warmth and I’m going to find it!”
“Ice Claw!”
There was a sound like a death rattle, followed by a sigh of relief. “I’ve found a source of warmth, Atlan!” cried Ice Claw triumphantly. The coldness can’t get the best of me anymore. I can warm myself here.”
I shuddered instinctively. I stumbled against something. As I groped about with my hands I felt the contours of a humanoid figure that crouched in front of me.
The greenish light layers began to dissolve. I was back in the Spider Desert again. At my feet I saw Ice Claw kneeling on top of Vafron with his taloned hands gripping the area of the other’s heart. Vafron had died a quick death. His heart must have turned to ice with the swiftness of thought.
I looked about me. Fratulon was only twenty paces or so away. He came toward us slowly, obviously in a state of complete exhaustion. His battle against the mirages must have drained his last reserves of strength. I also saw Vafron’s other two henchmen. One of them lay covered with blood in the sand. The other was dangling from one of the silvery strands overhead.
When Fratulon shoved Ice Claw off of his victim, the chretkor continued to stare incredulously at his icy talons. Sawbones proceeded to search Vafron. After a while, he stood up again, appearing to stare through narrowed eyes into nothingness. Then he uttered a loud curse.
“What’s the matter?” I inquired. “What did you find?”
Pointing to Vafron, he said: “They were Kralesians!” He gave no further explanation, finally changing the subject. “We have to go back to Tarkihl. Get the rayguns from the corpses. We’ll still have good use for them.”
I made a suggestion: “Shouldn’t we try to find Komyal’s radio equipment and send for some help?”
Fratulon was decisively against this. “No way! We’ll make it back on our own.”
I did not understand why he refused to call for help, but I contented myself with his decision. Fratulon must certainly know what he was doing.
11/ FROM DEADLY VISIONS
The long arm was casting its shadow.
Orbanoshol III was not the rightful successor to Gonozal VII. The former Emperor had left a son behind him who was 4 years old at the time of the accident. But the Crystal Prince had disappeared immediately after Gonozal’s death. Orbanoshol had declared him also dead and assumed the throne. Rumour had it that Orbanoshol had not only eliminated his brother, the Imperator, but that he also had the latter’s son on his conscience.
But Orbanoshol knew better than this. He had had nothing to do with the disappearance of the Crystal Prince, and he suspected that he was still alive. Because of this, Orbanoshol III saw that his power was endangered, and therefore he instituted a feverish search for him throughout the galaxy. However, until now it had not met with success.
Orbanoshol’s sole point of reference was the fact that someone else had accompanied the rightful heir to the throne when he had disappeared. With Atlan, the Crystal Prince, had gone Fratulon, the mystery shrouded physician to Gonozal VII.
For 13 long years, Orbanoshol’s search for Atlan had been without success. But now old Sawbones, Fratulon, was forced to ask himself whether or not the Imperator had finally picked up the proper trail…
* * * *
The dune rover had been stripped out completely.
The Zagors had stolen everything that wasn’t riveted down. Of course we had figured as much, yet I had secretly hoped they would at least leave the radio unharmed so that we could make contact with Tarkihl. Maybe Fratulon might have even changed his mind and could have been persuaded to call for help. But now such speculations were more or less immaterial.
We retreated into the machine’s cockpit in order to take a rest. So far the Zagors had been unusually quiet. But this was the way they always became after their “singing go?” of the silver strands had made a manifestation.
I searched through the rover for food supplies and articles of equipment we might have used. But the Zagors hadn’t overlooked a thing. The water containers had been emptied to the last drop.
It made me swear aloud.
Ice Claw fooled with the airconditioning system, but he didn’t succeed in getting it to operate. “What I wouldn’t give for a little refrigeration!” he said. “I won’t be able to stand this heat much longer—I’m going to melt!”
The chretkor’s perpetual yammering was slowly getting on my nerves. “If you do melt?” I snapped at him, “I’ll collect you in a container and bury you in any place you choose!”
As was to be expected, Ice Claw was offended, but as far as I was concerned, so be it. I was suffering hardships as much as he was, but I didn’t keep crying about it to the two of them.
Meanwhile, Fratulon had not reacted to any of this. He only sat there and stared into emptiness. I was certain that he was thinking about Vafron. He had referred to him and the others as “Kralesians.”
When he finally did move, it was only to leave the cockpit and the rover. “We have to move on?” he said tersely, and he set himself in motion.
The sun was at its zenith and shone down on us with a merciless intensity. The silvery net over our heads did not provide very much shade, but nevertheless it was some relief to seek even that protection.
In order to follow its shadow we had to move in a strange zigzag fashion. It reminded me of my childhood when I used to play a certain game with Farnathia. In designated rooms of Tarkihl we would avoid stepping on certain mosaic tiles in the floor while we would favour others. Whoever was first to step on a green tile would lose. And on other days other floor tiles would be taboo…
What we were doing now was similar. Ice Claw and I played the rules of the game and followed the shadow lines of the silvery net. Only Fratulon failed to concern himself with this and walked straight ahead. After a while I realized that it took a lot more out of me to follow the weaving path of the shadows, so I finally chose the route Sawbones was on. But Ice Claw was not to be diverted.
In a comer of the dune rover he had found a white chart or map of some kind, which he had fastened over his head. Although the white material served to reflect much of the sunlight, he continued to complain as much as before.
“If I survive this march through the Spider Desert?” he said gravely, “I’m going to build a monument out o
f ice. I’ll take a trip to the polar regions and there I’ll carve a giant statue out of the ice and have it brought here. And I’ll spare no cost on whatever technical installations it will take to keep the monument from melting down under the searing rays of the sun.”
* * * *
“Zagors!” shouted Ice Claw and drew his raygun.
“Leave your weapons where they are!” ordered Fratulon as he continued forward unconcernedly.
The sun had passed its highest position, yet it was even hotter than before. The sand seemed to reflect more heat than ever. I would have preferred taking off my boots, but then the soles of my feet would have probably been roasted by the sand.
“Zagors!” Ice Claw exclaimed again. “Dam it, Sawbones, don’t you see those reptiles? We’re moving straight at them.”
“Let them have their peace?” said Fratulon. We could hear the weariness in his voice.
“But they’ve taken up positions against us?” cried Ice Claw, alarmed. “They’re moving!”
“That’s only the wind!”
“They’re coming at us!”
“It’s only an optical illusion. The shimmering of the air is tricking you.”
We passed the 20 Zagors without event. Ice Claw calmed down when closer inspection revealed that they were dangling from the silvery strands of the web. What visions must the humming and vibrating net have enticed them with to make them jump into its grasp?
It would remain their secret forever.
* * * *
My feet became heavier and heavier.
In front of me, Fratulon was staggering through the sand. Whenever he would lift one foot he would lean toward the other, so that looking at him made me quite dizzy. It cost him such an effort to wade through the sand that it seemed his feet were asleep.
But he would not take off his chest armour.
I begged him to. “You must feel as though you were in a bake oven?” I said. And I told him: “Your armour is sucking in heat and accumulating it?” I implored: “Throw your cuirass away. Rid yourself of all that ballast!”
