Splinter in the Mind's Eye

by Alan Dean Foster

  "That's not surprising," soothed the Princess, knowing that on the desert world of Tatooine where Luke had been raised, an open body of water was as rare as an evergreen.

  Wordlessly, they slipped onto the pad-boat. Each took up one of the long selenite blades. Luke untied the cord from the stalagmite, recoiled it and replaced it on his belt, then pushed off. They slid out onto the lake as if greased.

  Luke experienced exquisite terror as they rowed out across what looked like a bottomless crater. The actual bottom could have been a mere meter beneath them, but the dark water was literally unfathomable.

  Like the waterbugs in the stream, worries darted rapidly through Luke's mind. What if the lake ran on for hundreds of kilometers? Or suppose it branched in several directions? Without the visible pathway, they could easily get lost forever.

  Their best chance was to hug the wall on their left, where the path had vanished into the water. It seemed unlikely that it would cut across the lake-more sensible for it to stay close to the wall, where presumably it was shallowest.

  He imagined unknown terrors. Perhaps a huge subterranean waterfall drained the lake, a cataract which would send them Inexorably to a lonely death on rocks that had never seen the light of day. As they traveled steadily on, such imaginary terrors lost some of their immediacy. The waterfall, for example. In the excellent acoustics of the cavern they'd heard no distant thunderous roaring.

  After an hour of slow, painful paddling he discovered he no longer cared what they found at the far side of the lake, just so long as they found the far side of the lake.

  His upper shoulders began aching relentlessly. He knew it must be as painful if not more so for the Princess. Yet she hadn't complained once, hadn't said a word in protest as they continued the agonizingly slow process of pushing themselves through the water. While admiring her fortitude, he wondered if the experiences they'd gone through so far on Mimban had had a mellowing effect on her. He was unable to tell, but was grateful for it nonetheless.

  "Why don't you rest, Princess," he counseled her finally. "I'll row for awhile."

  "Don't be ridiculous," she replied, gentle but firm yet without much enthusiasm. "It would be silly for you to reach back and forth across this thing. I'm not that confident of its buoyancy as it is. And if you stay in one place you'll just paddle us in circles. Stay where you are and save your strength."

  Luke acceded to common sense, which might be less attractive than gallantry but more practical. They rested periodically. Half the day vanished monotonously without sight of the far shore. In the currentless black water they stopped for a midday meal of colored cubes.

  Far, far above, Luke saw that the cavern ceiling was dominated by clusters of stalactites that dwarfed any formations they'd seen thus far. Several of them must have weighed many tons. There were also long, thin ones, dozens of meters long and no thicker than a man's thumb. All were liberally coated with the luminescent lichen-fungi which filled the enormous chamber with a comforting yellow-blue glow.

  As he thought back to Halla's comment on water, he grinned. She'd been right about that! It was somehow magical to dip one's cup into the blackness and watch it fill, for the lake's color was so rich and pure and solid that the blackness had to be part of the water itself.

  The water was purer, fresher than any Luke had ever swallowed. As they ate and drank in silence, he reflected on how much he missed the tiny stream that had guided them this far. Its steady bubbling and gurgling had been a great comfort. Now they had to settle for the intermittent and less lively pings of drops falling from the stalactites overhead.

  Lunch concluded, they continued on. Several hours later an uncertain Luke put a warning hand on the Princess' shoulder and motioned her to cease paddling.

  "What is it?" she whispered, questioning.

  Luke stared at the absolutely flat, unbroken lake surface.

  "Listen."

  Leia did so, studying the water nervously in the dim light. A faint pop-plop sounded.

  "That's just drip-water from the ceiling," she husked.

  "No," he insisted. "It's too erratic. Drip-water falls steadily."

  The noise ceased. "I don't hear it anymore, Luke. It must have been drip-water."

  Luke looked worriedly at the black mirror they floated on. "I can't hear it now, either." Taking up his selenite paddle, he dipped it into the water and began stroking again. Occasionally he would pause for a quick look over one shoulder or the other. So far, however, nothing lay behind them except his own fears.

  His nervousness communicated itself to the Princess. She was beginning to relax again, when he held up a hand.

  "Stop."

  She raised her paddle clear of the water, a trifle annoyed this time.

  "There it is again," he announced tensely. "Don't you hear it, Leia?" She didn't reply. "Leia?" Turning, he saw that she was gazing fixedly at something in the water. Her mouth hung open, but she couldn't speak.

  She could point, though. Luke reached for his light-saber instinctively, even before he spotted the trail of fat bubbles that was arrowing rapidly toward them, as ominous and threatening as any projectile.

  Moving carefully to the rear of the pad, Luke balanced himself on a knee and a leg-the activated saber held tightly in his right hand.

  The bubbles stopped, were not immediately resumed.

  "Maybe... maybe it's gone away," the Princess murmured tightly.

  "Maybe," Luke half-conceded.

  It rose.

  A pale amorphous form, shining with phosphorescence, in color it was not unlike the great wandrella. But compared to the lake-spirit the worm-thing was a familiar creature.

  There was no face, nothing recognizable in that constantly altering form. It lifted short, thick pseudo-pods of a whitish substance clear of the surface. They gleamed brightly in the dim cavern light. Luke thought he could see partway through the creature, and strange shapes swirling about it internally.

  One pulsing white arm flailed at the fragile craft. Luke swung at it with his saber. The blue beam passed completely through the glowing matter. While the saber produced no visible damage, the action caused the amoeba-shape to reabsorb the limb.

  Another curling tentacle swiped at Luke and this time he stabbed at it. The beam shot straight through the arm. There was no hint of blood or internal fluids of any kind. Only the lapping of water against the spongy, rocking pad and Luke's grunts as he fought frantically sounded in the chamber. For the most part the battle proceeded in hellish silence.

  Each time the creature thrust at them, Luke would parry the strike with the saber. Each time the limb would shrink back into the heaving, glowing body without suffering any visible damage.

  A sweeping limb caught Luke from behind as he was cutting at another pseudopod. It swept him over the side as the Princess screamed. Somehow he kept a hand on the upcurled rim of the pad-boat. His weight caused it to tilt slightly toward him, but fortunately it was far too naturally buoyant to capsize.

  Leia wrestled him halfway back aboard. Then something caught him from below and yanked him beneath the surface. The Princess barely let go in time to keep from being dragged over herself.

  Anxious moments passed with no sign of Luke. Then he broke the surface not far off, sputtering and spitting. Flaring brilliantly beneath the water, his saber swung and hacked at something unseen. It let loose long enough for him to crawl back onto the pad. The saber arced dangerously near the Princess and his own legs as he cut at clinging pale limbs. He kept cutting until the last grasping pseudopod slunk out of sight.

  Dripping wet and still choking on water, he knelt on the pad and tried to look every which way at once.

  "Look!" Leia exclaimed. Luke saw the line of bubbles in the water, only now they were moving away from the pad-boat. Their steady pop-plop sounded for several minutes after the bubbles themselves had vanished from sight.

  Exhausted, he fell onto his back and stared at the pincushion ceiling.

  "You did it,
Luke. You beat it off."

  "I'm not so sure," he panted, feeling anything but victorious. "Maybe the thing just got tired and went away." He studied the switched-off lightsaber in his fist. "Or maybe it decided a saber beam's not very palatable." He reattached it to his belt, sat up with a groan and locked his arms about his knees. Water dripped from his hair down in front of his face.

  Leia moved closer, reached out uncertainly to touch his arm. He eyed her, then coughed. She sat back. Suddenly she began screaming. Luke looked around but there was nothing in sight.

  Bending over, the Princess screamed into clasped hands. The muffled wail continued for several minutes. When it ended, she looked back up at him without apology.

  "I'm all right now, I think," she said with forced steadiness. She took a deep breath. "I just think... I'm ready to leave this place, Luke." Her voice rose slightly. "I'm ready to get out."

  "Believe me, Leia," he replied, taking her hand in his, "I'm in just as big a hurry as you."

  They exchanged wordless thoughts. Then each picked up a paddle and together they resumed digging black water.

  Despite Luke's feeling that their translucent assailant would attack again, they weren't bothered for several hours. But then it didn't matter. The far shore of the lake finally hove into view.

  Only there was something more than a naked shoreline coming toward them. "Surely the Coway didn't build that," Luke whispered in awe.

  An ancient dock protruded from the dry ground ahead. While no boats of any kind were in sight, the long finger of metal extending out into the water left no doubt as to its function, its alien design notwithstanding.

  Luke had less luck identifying the purposes of the numerous structures clustered all along the shore. Many appeared raised from stone, others had metal walls, and some combinations of both materials. No matter what the composition, every one displayed signs of considerable age. Not a single edifice rose unmarred by time. Try as he might, Luke couldn't locate a single window. Openings which must have served as doors were squatly oval.

  They paddled for the left-hand shore until the pad thumped bottom. Stepping out into water up to his waist, Luke extended a supportive hand for the Princess. She remained in the boat, not exactly frightened, but devoid of confidence.

  "Come on," Luke urged her, "it's not deep here."

  "But I'd have to step in the water. I'd rather not, Luke."

  "It's all right," he assured her, masking any impatience. "You can make it in a few steps."

  She shook her head again. Luke sighed, waded to the edge of the pad. He extended both arms. She slipped into them and he carried her to dry land, noticing as he did so how tightly she held her eyes closed.

  Finally they were sitting gratefully on the stone berm, no longer caring if their makeshift craft floated away. Behind them the city of the Thrella loomed silently.

  "Okay now?" he inquired, leaning forward and looking at her face. She didn't meet his eyes.

  "I'm okay. I'm sorry I was so much trouble. I'm sorry I did so much screaming. I... usually have better control of myself than that."

  "You've nothing to be sorry for," he assured her firmly. "Certainly not for screaming. As for being frightened," he smiled gently, "I was twice as terrified as you when that half-goblin came up out of the water at us. I was too busy to be screaming, or I'm sure I would have."

  "Oh, it wasn't the monster so much," Leia explained disarmingly. "That was a real, palpable threat." She got to her feet, continued almost casually, "It's Just that I can't swim."

  Luke sat staring at her in disbelief as she wrung water from her torn coveralls. "Why didn't you say something before we pushed off?" he finally managed to ask.

  She gave him a wry smile. "Would that have mattered, Luke? The trail vanished into the lake." She gestured toward the unmistakable pathway that re-emerged from the water's edge nearby and wound into the subterranean city. "We had to get across. It was an unfortunate but unavoidable situation. I didn't see any point in burdening you with my own childhood fears." She walked toward the pathway.

  "Look, it goes on through the town. I'd like to meet the people who built this place." She glanced back at him impatiently. "We're wasting time."

  Dumb with admiration, he climbed erect and followed her into the maze of structures. It rapidly became clear that the city was the product of an intelligence that had long since disappeared from Mimban. Everything was neatly laid out, and the metalwork showed signs of advanced techniques. The decay of the buildings was due to time, not shoddy design or construction. Given the relative paucity of natural erosion underground, the city had to be ancient indeed.

  The absence of right angles and a preference for sweeping curves and arches indicated that the inhabitants of the city had been aesthetically as well as architecturally talented. Beauty of design was another luxury primitive peoples could rarely afford, generally having to gear their construction strictly to the utilitarian.

  Something clattered softly behind them and Luke whirled. The mystifying oval portals stared back at him like the eye sockets of gray, bleached skulls. The Princess frowned at him.

  "Thought I heard something, that's all," he informed her, staring resolutely ahead.

  They continued on through the city, but Luke's curt disclaimer belied his uneasiness. He had heard something. As they walked along the meandering pathway and the buildings drew closer about them, he felt a crawling sensation on his neck as if someone, or something, was staring at him. It became an almost palpable feeling. Yet every time he jerked around sharply for a look, there was nothing. Not a suggestion of movement, not a sigh, not a sound.

  He was grateful when the buildings started to thin out and become less numerous. Empty doorways beckoned to him and he was tempted, very tempted, to enter one of the ruined structures to find out if its interior was as well preserved as the outside.

  This was not, he reminded himself firmly, the time for playful exploration. Their first concern was to find the way out, not to go poking through this ancient metropolis. However wonderful it was.

  He wondered what had caused the extinction of Mimban's advanced races, of the temple-builders and the Thrella and the others. Interracial warfare, perhaps, or maybe sequential decadence ending in their being overwhelmed by aborigines like the greenies.

  Rock scrapped on rock. This time when he spun there was a hint of movement behind a wall of stalagmites off to their left.

  "Don't tell me you didn't hear that."

  "Rocks fall from the roof constantly in caves," the Princess agreed readily. "I know how you feel, Luke. I'm still pretty jumpy myself."

  "This wasn't my nerves," he insisted. "There's something following us. I saw it move."

  Ignoring the Princess' protests, he started toward the ridge of colored spires. The sound wasn't repeated and there was no movement. Walking in a half-crouch, he reached the far end of the little wall and peered around it. There was nothing there.

  "LUKE!"

  Ben Kenobi would have been proud. In one smooth motion he threw up a hand to ward off the shape falling toward him, activated and drew the lightsaber at the same time. Unknowingly he performed both actions with the same arm. The hand he threw up defensively held the saber.

  The creature was quickly cut in half.

  Luke ran back to rejoin the Princess. She was pointing ahead. Their path was blocked by two more of the bipeds. Others appeared behind them, two, three more, moving in on them cautiously.

  "Coway," Leia commented, bending to pick up a broken stalactite. She shifted it efficiently in her hand, held it like a dagger, as the humanoids stalked them.

  Each was slim and covered with a fine gray down. Their eyes were shrunken, dark orbs. Yet they appeared to see Luke and the Princess clearly enough. Each wore a kind of abbreviated set of trousers from which dangled assorted primitive instruments and many charms. These were matched by others hanging from upper arms and neck.

  All were armed with a long, thin stone spear made of f
lowstone. A couple also carried double-bladed axes. They displayed no fear of Luke's lightsaber, despite its recently demonstrated lethal qualities. This indicated either a fair knowledge of human technology from surface visits, or else a bravery born of ignorance.

  Luckily their tactics were equally primitive. With a rolling cry, the three behind all charged together, while the two ahead rushed in several moments late. The slight difference in time was critical.

  A single swipe of the saber sliced two of the thrusting spears in half. The third jabbed at the Princess. She blocked the thrust with her stone, got her legs around the onrushing native's and sent it crashing to the ground. Rolling over on top of him, she brought the stalactite section down hard on its skull. There was a plastic breaking sound and blood gushed freely.

  Luke ducked a wild axe swing, cut both legs out from under the wielder. By now the two latecomers had entered the fray. Luke dispatched one with a thrust that cut off the hand holding the spear above the wrist. Its owner collapsed on the ground, moaning and holding the cauterized stump.

  More cautious than his companion, the second pulled up hastily. He started jabbing at Luke with his spear. Luke promptly cut off the spear point, whereupon its owner threw the shaft at Luke, spun and ran back the way it had come.

  Luke turned to the Princess. She was adroitly dodging the alternating cuts and jabs of the remaining native, hunting for an opening. But when the creature saw Luke approaching, it turned to retreat.

  Hefting the saber carefully, Luke let the weapon fly. It passed completely through the Coway at the small of its back, until the solid pommel contacted flesh. It fell to the ground, instantly dead.

  "Hurry!" the Princess urged, salvaging an axe from one of the fallen creatures. "It mustn't get away to warn others." Luke retrieved his saber and hurried after her.

  Together they ran in pursuit of the single remaining Coway.

  In their rush, neither noticed immediately that they were traveling very slightly but unmistakably uphill, for the first time since they'd abandoned the Thrella well.