'And now we come to the Earthlings,' said the Queen, and her smile faded. 'What a sorry thing it is to see you here in such circumstances. We have, of course, the highest regard for your planet, and especially for England, where we happily spent our formative years. It is therefore with profound regret that we must find you guilty of aiding and fomenting insurrection, no doubt for your own nefarious ends. We simply cannot tolerate such egregious behaviour on Venus, and your sentence must necessarily be an exemplary one. You shall all of you go to the tree, and let that include the fellow who had the temerity to believe he could marry our daughter.'
'Mummy no!' cried Bunty. 'That's just not fair! Charles has done nothing wrong. He never helped the rebels. He came here because he loves me, and I love him!'
'Love?' enquired the Queen-Goddess, raising an eyebrow. And what, pray, is that? Some nonsense you learned on Earth, no doubt. Princesses do not love, my dear; they do their duty. Today we entered into a most satisfactory alliance with our friend and loyal subject the Migraani of the Yellow, in recognition of which you shall shortly be joined in matrimony with Tuuntu Haramu. He's a weedy little specimen but we find him amusing and no doubt you'll become equally fond of him in time. Ah, and here he is. What is it young man? A little favour to ask Mummy perhaps?' For the Tuuntu had stepped forward and was bending smilingly over the Queen in earnest entreaty.
'Excellent!' she cried at last. 'That is excellent! We can see that you are going to be an ornament to this Court.' She turned, beaming, to the room. 'It has been suggested that the Earthlings be pitted against a team of Venusians in a cricket match. Should they win, they may return whence they came. Should they lose, they shall know the embrace of the jalaapa. And just to concentrate the minds of the home side, let the same apply to them. It should be good sport!' She waved at a hovering retainer. 'See to it. And while you're about it, get us something more substantial to eat; we're famished. We will deal with the rest of you inshekid tomorrow. Do not look for mercy, for it shall not be forthcoming.
No sooner had the cell door clanged shut behind them than the others rounded furiously on Charles.
'Poor little Agnes was right!' raged Freddy. 'She said you were no gentleman and she didn't know the half of it! From the beginning you've deliberately deceived us and put our lives in jeopardy, even that of your own fiancée. Damn you sir!'
'And to think we trusted you and welcomed you into our family,' added the Professor, 'when all the time you cared only for that . . . floosie!'
Shoving his erstwhile employer against the wall, Simms would have punched him on the nose had not Wilfred dragged him off. 'Some gentleman!' he exploded. 'Oh, he can make money all right, and he knows how to put on airs and graces, but he's no more a gentleman than I am! I wish now I'd left you to the Germans, sergeant-pilot Prendergast.'
Colouring somewhat at this damning revelation, Charles nevertheless defended himself with icy calm. 'I'm a better man than you'll ever be, Albert Simms; and the rest of you too, with your silver spoons and fancy titles. I'm not ashamed of what I am. I've dragged myself up in the world by my own efforts and not one of you can say that. As for you, Lambent, if you hadn't been so weak and credulous, your frigid foster-daughter would still be safe at home, and no doubt married off to the sort of chinless numbskull she was born to make miserable. I might as well tell you the rebels were betrayed almost as soon as their ridiculous plot was hatched. It was doomed from the start, and the only good thing about it was that it gave me a chance to be with Bunty. We knew they'd be unlikely to let me come to Venus with her, so I formed the notion of paying court to Daphne. It's amazing where a little money can get you with the aristocracy. And I might also remind you that if it hadn't been for me, you'd all be dead twice over!'
'That may be so,' said Wilfred, 'but the pair of you were quite happy to push off and leave us to our fate. Now it appears you've been hoist by your own petard.'
'We can hardly have bargained for that old cat being alive,' retorted Charles. 'If she'd stayed dead, we'd all have got what we wanted. Bunty would have her freedom and Daphne her throne. See me as a blackguard if you wish, but I've done nothing wrong, and neither has Bunty. 'And taking from his pocket a little bundle of Venusian cigarettes and a tinderbox he settled himself in a corner of the cell and began to smoke.
No-one answered him, and for a while they sat in dejected contemplation of this new turn in their fortunes.
Eventually Freddy said, 'You know, it occurs to me that this cricket-match business may be the Tuuntu's way of trying to help us. Faced with our imminent death by jalaapa he might simply have needed to buy time until he could work out what to do next. He may be a boastful little dandy, but I saw a better side of him during our time in the wilderness, and I can't believe he'd make a spectacle of us purely to curry favour with his future mother-in-law. If I'm right, it was quite a brave thing to do, for he couldn't know for certain how she might take it.'
'But he deliberately lied to us!' protested Simms. 'They both did. And he thrashed poor Hawghi half to death. He's no better than Prendergast.'
'I can't defend that,' said Freddy. 'But I don't believe he knew what his mother was up to. Don't you remember how shocked he was when Nigluundo turned up over Erijuaan? And by the time he realised she was hand in glove with that odious woman he may have had no choice but to do what she wanted, or at least appear to. His very life might have depended on it.'
The Professor shook his head mournfully. 'Machiavelli would seem the merest amateur beside these people. How can one trust any of them? It makes one's head spin.'
Angrily pacing, Wilfred blamed himself for their predicament. Every instinct had told him they were walking into a trap yet he'd done nothing to avoid it. He had to fight a panicky urge to draw his pistol, burn out the lock, and try to find his wife and mistress, killing anyone who got in his way. Reason told him, however, that it would be better to wait and see what happened next. There seemed little chance that he would be able to rescue them on his own, or even discover where they had been taken. Also, it might jeopardise the others. He decided he wouldn't tell them about his hidden weapon; he didn't trust Charles. The man was clearly without shame or remorse and his revealed lack of breeding put him quite beyond the pale. 'Does anyone know about this Iyx place?' he asked anxiously. 'What do you suppose will happen to them there?'
'Iyx is the Venusian name for the underworld,' said the Professor. 'I should imagine it's some sort of subterranean prison. Since she wants to keep them alive, they're probably safe there for the moment.'
Wilfred was unconvinced. If it was simply a prison, why had everyone reacted with terror to its very name?
'I just wish we knew when this joke of a match was going to take place,' said Simms. 'Who knows what might be happening back home? I'm really worried about Nista.'
But no-one came to tell them, and the days of their waiting dragged slowly by, made infinitely harder to bear by their surroundings. Their rations, pushed under the door, would not have been sufficient for half their number and their tiny cell was quite bare of furniture. As if that were not enough, the prospect from its single, heavily barred, window was the most doleful imaginable: a veritable grove of jalaapa trees, neatly laid out in an artificial swamp. Every day, the victims of a vengeful Queen-Goddess were brought to their doom, some walking with quiet dignity, others struggling to the last. Soon there was scarcely a branch without its grisly bundle of green-black leaves.
But eventually there came a jingle of keys in the lock, the door swung open and they were led away to what looked remarkably like a classical amphitheatre. Seats rose in tiers on all sides, broken at the level of the arena by a number of low arches from which one almost expected lions or gladiators to emerge. Passing under one of these, they discovered the dank and crepuscular suite of rooms that was to be both their new quarters and their cricket pavilion. Waiting for them were five Vanapop villagers, their own cricket gear, and the Captain of Ships.
It was a joyful reunion, wi
th Wilfred almost smothered beneath a ruck of thaalid as they boisterously greeted their Pipati.
'Such hair on your faces!' cried Veldo, enveloping them one by one in his usual bear-hug. 'Hardly I knew you.'
'What news from home?' asked Simms anxiously.
'All is well,' Veldo assured him. 'Nista sends her love and says you are not to worry about her. The hakijukid came and took away the Purples – those that lived – but not before we had destroyed one and captured some of their guns. It was a good fight.'
'But how did you get here?' asked the Professor. 'Are you prisoners?'
'I cannot say. It is the strangest thing, for who should come to Torris Verga but little Tuuntu Haramu, all alone in a big ship. He asked me who are the best players of the cricket, so I told him these thaalid. They know they might die but they say they are not afraid. They fought for who should come!'
'And what about you, Veldo?' asked Wilfred. 'Are you afraid?'
'Of course not; I am a soldier.'
They had been given a day to practice and to allow time for Wilfred, their nominated captain, to organise his team. Nets had been set up and the Purples were already at work in them. They looked grimly determined, as well they might, for only the winners would live to play again. The Earthlings were surprised, and considerably discomfitted, to see that they were all thaalid.'
'We'll never beat an all-thaal team,' said Simms dolefully.
'Perhaps they think it beneath a human's dignity to play,' mused the Professor.
'But of course,' said Veldo. 'We Venusians do nothing a thaal can do for us. Come, let us practice with the bat and ball.'
Seizing a quiet moment, Freddy approached Wilfred, his expression grim. 'I'm sorry to have to tell you this, old chap. But I don't think I'm going to be much use to you.' He rolled up his pantaloon leg revealing an egg-sized ulcer eating deep into his calf.
'Oh Uncle, I had no idea it was so bad.'
'It's dashed awkward. I'll be hard put to it to run.'
'I could nominate a runner I suppose.'
'They won't know about that; they'd think we were trying to put over a fast one. Anyway there's still the fielding.'
'Well you'd best go in slips and I'll make you last man in. You'll just have to do what you can. I doubt that she-devil will let us go anyway, win or lose. She's just toying with us.'
'Then what do you think will happen?'
'I don't know, but listen . . .' Drawing his uncle further away from the others he told him about the ray-pistol.
'Well that's a comfort,' declared Freddy. 'If the worst happens, we can at least go down fighting. I don't fancy being lunch for a tree.'
It was to be a single-innings match of the usual ten overs each. At dawn the next morning, the team emerged from their gloomy catacomb to discover the umpires – a solemn-looking pair of thaalid – inspecting the reed-matting wicket, while others raked the black sand of the arena.
'Moist and overcast; should turn the ball nicely,' said Simms, gazing upwards. It was his only joke, and the others chuckled dutifully.
'And a good turnout I see,' observed Freddy.
On all sides, the stands were beginning to fill with noisy, jostling spectators. There was a decidedly carnival atmosphere and servants were already edging along the rows of seats, handing out food and iced drinks. Close by was the royal box, with Bunty, Tuuntu Haramu and his parents already ensconced within its curtained-off splendour. Various members of the nobility and their courtiers were drifting in to join them.
There came a great fanfare of trumpets, and everyone, including both teams, fell instantly to the ground, only rising when a now-familiar voice told them to.
'Ave Imperatrix, morituri te salutant,' muttered the Professor cynically.
I know what I'd rather do, thought Wilfred, tapping his pocket.
The home team won the toss and – as was almost the custom in Venusian cricket – chose to bat, thus making it likely that their opponents would suffer from bad light prior to the afternoon rain. It was an unlucky start.
Wilfred had decided that he, Charles and Heft were to share the bowling while Simms would be their wicketkeeper. Bowling wasn't the remaining thaalids' strong suit but like all their race they were marvellous in the field, and were placed accordingly. The shortsighted Professor was in slips, opposite Freddy.
Little happened in the first over, but once the Purple number-one had batted himself in, he scored a hearty six off Wilfred, followed by two fours in quick succession. Charles fared no better, and by the time the sturdy-looking creature was caught on the boundary by Effin, son of Effan, the Purples had racked up an impressive forty-seven for two wickets.
So it went on, with only some determined fielding preventing a near rout. By the tenth and final over they had only succeeded in dismissing six Purple batsmen: two clean bowled, one lbw (vigorously contested) and three caught; their opponents having scored almost a hundred. The Purples began to look mightily relieved, baring their fangs in happy smiles and clapping each other on the back.
While they'd been playing, the undisciplined crowd had kept up a constant racket, wandering about the stands to talk to their friends and sometimes throwing things onto the pitch. It seemed unlikely that many of them were familiar with the rules or protocol of the game, and Wilfred formed the impression they were bored. Whenever he glanced at the Queen-Goddess she was greedily gnawing on something or chatting to the Yellow Migraani, and seemed to be paying little attention to the drama before her. Bunty, he thought, looked anxious, and he wondered, not for the first time, what she could possibly see in a scoundrel like Prendergast.
Going to lunch, they were surprised when a kind of portcullis came down behind them, shutting them in.
'Not taking any chances are they?' said Simms.
'I suppose it could have been worse,' sighed Wilfred. We've come back from ninety-three before this.'
'The umpires seemed fair, I thought.'
'Yes, I've no complaints.'
'A thaal appeared and wordlessly placed a large tray of food before them. He was dressed in the purple tabard worn only by the servants of royal personages.
'I say, this isn't half bad!' exclaimed Freddy, pouncing on it. 'More than enough for everyone, for a change.'
'Odd,' said Wilfred. 'First they half starve us and now they provide a feast.'
'Simms had wandered over to gaze through the bars of the portcullis. 'Maybe we were just the warm-up act,' he said. 'Come and look at this!'
'Why it's a krit!' exclaimed Freddy. 'Not nearly as big as ours though. Perhaps it's a juvenile.'
'Big enough,' marvelled Wilfred, remembering the tiny kraatuid in the lake. 'What are those fellows doing? Do you know?'
'I should imagine it's a stylised version of a royal hunt. The fellow with the fancy spear has to try and kill it whilst the others distract it. I suppose that means he's a noble of some sort. Oh my goodness!'
A great roar went up from the spectators, as moving with the remarkable agility of its kind the krit suddenly turned on its tormentors, running clean over one of them and engulfing another in its tentacles. As his colleagues struggled to pull the screaming man away, the spear-carrier seized his chance to scale the creature's towering flanks. Twice he failed to get a purchase as it writhed about. Then glancing at an enormous hourglass, set on a pillar and already half empty, he took from his belt a pair of instruments resembling ice-picks and sinking them one by one into the rippling grey-green flesh, hauled himself bodily upwards, his unwieldy spear dragging behind him.
This brought the crowd to its feet, baying with excitement, as the krit, with a mighty bellow of anger and pain, reared up the forepart of its body in a desperate, shuddering attempt to dislodge its assailant. Somehow the man held on, finally getting himself astride its steeply humped back. Clinging with just his knees, he raised his spear, waited for a moment, and in a sudden general silence thrust it deep into the creature's blowhole. For a moment or two nothing happened, then a great fountain o
f pinkish blood gushed high in the air. Very conveniently, the krit had expired just as the sand in the hourglass ran out. The crowd went wild.
The weary victor now began a circuit of the arena, flowers and favours raining down on him, as servants with ropes and grappling hooks hastened to drag the ill-used creature away. Amid a welter of gore and slime could now be seen the corpse of one of its persecutors, crushed or smothered to death.
Even as this was taking place, the stumps were being knocked in and the wicket relaid for the Earthlings' innings. Padded up and nervously swinging their bats, Wilfred and Heft waited to go to their creases.
'Follow that,' said Wilfred in Popti, and Heft gave a grim smile.
Moments later the cricketing genius hit such a powerful six that it slammed into the third row of the stands. The crowd, now thoroughly warmed up, were suitably impressed and began at last to take an interest, cheering and calling out at all the worst moments. By the end of the second over, the opening batsmen had overtaken their Purple counterparts by seven runs, and were starting to look like a serious partnership. Wilfred, preferring to play safe and support Heft, had scored only fifteen, mostly carefully judged singles, which he was quite happy to do if it kept the talented young thaal in front of the bowler. He was well aware that the Purples' best man – a lanky creature with a queer, bouncing run up – was especially targeting him as the weaker of the two, and while attempting to parry an awkward leg spin he was clean bowled.
Wilfred returned to discreet applause from his team-mates, handing over his pads to Effin. With four thaalid and Charles still to go, it seemed they might be in with a chance. Alas, the relatively inexperienced Effin was perhaps not the best choice for third man. Gambling on a well-placed but absurdly short lob he managed to get the startled Heft run out. Hiff, next in, managed only twelve before he was dismissed by 'Lanky,' as he had become known, and of the thaalid, that left only Hoft and Etan.
Storm on Venus Page 28
