To Die In Italbar

by Roger Zelazny

  He regarded the lines, the places that looked like burns, the dark ridges that crossed the cheeks.

  Something inside him chose, at that moment, to close its fingers about his stomach and squeeze.

  He turned away from the screen, his breath quickening. Suddenly, he found that he was panting. His hands began to tremble.

  My appearance need not be so extreme to achieve the desired effect, he decided. Three weeks in sub before I reach Summit. Might as well go into remission and clean up a bit.

  He located the cigar and continued to puff on it. He placed his left hand where it was out of sight. He did not look back at the screen.

  After he had entered hd, he turned on the forward screen and regarded stars. Centered about a point directly before him, they moved in long, burning spirals, some clockwise, some counterclockwise. He hung there, absolutely still, and for a time he regarded the universe as it moved about him.

  Then he reclined the seat, closed his eyes, folded his arms and followed the long trail he had not taken since before Italbar.

  _______________

  ... Walking, quickly, through the mists. Blue, blue, blue. Blue flowers, like the heads of serpents. A more exotic perfume in the air. Blue moon above, blue vines across the shallow stairs.

  Up into the garden ...

  Blue insects swarmed about him, and as he gestured to brush them away he saw his hand.

  Something is wrong, he decided. Whenever I come to this place I am whole again.

  He advanced into the garden and felt a subtle change, though there was no specific thing to which he could attribute it.

  He cast his eyes upward, but there was only the motionless 'noon.

  He listened, but there were no birdsongs.

  The mists snaked about his ankles. The first glittering stone, when he came upon it, still cast its prisms. The butterflies, though, were missing. Instead, it was partly covered by a webwork within which dozens of fat blue caterpillars hung suspended, turning, contracting into U's and straightening again, slowly. Beneath knobbed horns, their faceted eyes blazed like sapphire chips. As he watched, they all contrived to turn in his direction and raise their heads.

  He did not look upon the other stones as he passed them, but pressed forward with increasing distress, seeking a certain high stand of shrubbery.

  When he located it, he hurried in that direction; and as always, the light faded at his approach. He saw then the summerhouse.

  It stood as he had never seen it before. Shaded, peaceful, cool, it had always been. Now, however, each stone was clearly delineated, burning with a cold blue light. Inside, there was absolute blackness.

  He halted. He succumbed to a chill that gave way to a shudder.

  What is it that is wrong? he asked himself. It has never been this way before. Could she be angry with me? Why? Perhaps I should not enter. Perhaps I should wait here until it is time to go back. Or perhaps I should return immediately. There is an electrical quality to the air. Like just before a storm ...

  He stood there, watching, waiting. Nothing occurred within the stillness.

  The tingling sensation increased. The back of his neck began to throb, then his hands and feet.

  He decided to depart, discovered that he could not move.

  The throbbing spread throughout his entire body.

  He felt an urge to move forward. It was not a desire, but a compulsion. Throbbing, he moved ahead once more.

  When he entered, his feelings were not as they had been on prior occasions in the place. This time he hoped that he would not even glimpse a smile, a fluttering eyelid, an earlobe, a strand of hair, the sheen of blue moonbeams upon a restless forearm or shoulder. This time he was afraid to see anything of her. This time, he hoped she was not present.

  He moved to the stone bench that ran along the wall, seated himself upon it.

  "_Dra_ Heidel von Hymack," came the words, and they made him want to rise and flee, but he could not move. They were more sibilant than usual, and their breath came cold upon his cheek. He kept his face averted.

  "Why do you not turn and look at me, _Dra_ von Hymack? You have always desired this in the past."

  He said nothing. She was the same--yet different. Everything had been altered.

  "_Dra_ von Hymack, you do not turn and you do not answer me. What is the matter?"

  "Lady--"

  "Then be unchivalrous. it is enough that you have come home, at last."

  "I do not understand."

  "You have finally done the correct thing. Now the stars have turned in their courses and the seas have come unchained."

  It is a lovely voice, he decided. More so than before. It was the sudden alteration that startled me. The garden is prettier too.

  "You have noticed the changes and you approve. That is good. Tell me what you think of your new strength."

  "I like it. Men are worthless and they deserve to die. If my power were greater, more of them would."

  "Oh, it shall be! Believe me. Soon you will be able to emanate spores that will slay across hundreds of kilometers. And there will come a day when you will need but set foot upon a world to kill everything which dwells there."

  "it is only the people that I care about. It was they who hurt me. It is man who is unthinking and brutal. The other races, the other life forms--they do not disturb me."

  "Ah, but if you would serve me fully--as you have chosen to do--then all of life is become your enemy."

  "I would not go that far, Lady. For it was not all of life that attacked me."

  "But to reach the guilty, you must strike among the innocent as well. It is the only way."

  "I can avoid the non-human worlds."

  "Very well. For a time, perhaps. Are you still happiest of all when you are here, with me?"

  "Yes, Myra-o--"

  "Do not barbarize my name. Speak it as it should be spoken--A rym-o-myra--when it must be spoken at all."

  "Lady, I apologize. I had thought it otherwise."

  "Cease thinking. Simply do as I tell you."

  "Of course."

  "With your new power, which grows in you by the day, you have the best of both worlds. it is only while you are here that your sleeping body does not bear all the marks of your power. it snores quietly in that little shell you use to cross between the worlds. When you awaken there, you will bear greater strengths and deeper marks than any you have thus far known."

  "Why is this? I can recall when it was the other way about."

  "It is because you have chosen to act as a man no more, but as a god, that godlike strengths have been granted you."

  "I had thought that you might cleanse me for a time, for I discover that I grow increasingly ugly."

  She laughed.

  "You? Ugly? By all the Names, you are the most beautiful creature that lives. Turn now and fall upon your knees. Adore me. I shall require sexual worship of you, and then I shall confirm you as my servant forever."

  He turned and finally beheld her face. Then he fell upon his knees and lowered his head.

  _______________

  When he awakened, Malacar gave himself a genuine injection he had had ready, a tranquilizer. The first one he had taken had been distilled water. He did not allow himself to look at the globe during this time.

  Then he rose to administer similar medication to the still unconscious Morwin. He hesitated, however.

  _Why is he still out, Shind?_

  _The full strength of the death-dream came upon him in conjunction with his using his shaping power. It seems to have given it more force_.

  _In that case, I am going to give him a sedative and put him to bed_.

  It was only after this was done that he returned to the laboratory and considered the globe.

  He felt prickly sensations in unlikely places.

  God! That's it! he decided. That is exactly what I saw! I never realized he was that good! He actually succeeded in stuffing a nightmare inside that globe. It is perfect. Too perfect, in fact.
I did not want a work of art. That is what it is, though, when you see it like this--fully conscious. I think he does make small alterations ... I will never know, for certain. --All I had wanted was a nasty, striking item to ship to the High Command in SEL--from Malacar, with love--to let them know I am on to their latest--to warn them. I wanted to tell them, by this, what I am going to try to do to their whole bloody CL. I will fail, of course, but I grow older and there is no successor in sight. When I do try that big one, it will be all over. They will be frightened of the DYNAB again, for a time. Perhaps during that time another Malacar will come along. That is what I will be praying when I carry the bomb into their E-Room. I almost hate to give them the globe, though. Too bad Morwin went over. He isn't a bad sort. Those globes of his... Globes ... What the hell!

  He searched the laboratory. Not locating what he sought, he tried the monitor, checking all the rooms in the citadel.

  _All right, Shind. Where are you hiding?_

  No response.

  _I know you have some sort of mind-lock on me. I want you to release it_.

  Nothing.

  _Look, you know I can break it, now that I know it exists. It may take me several days, weeks even. But I will get through it. Save me the trouble_.

  There came to him the mental equivalent of a sigh.

  _I only did it for your own good_.

  _Whenever people start talking to me about my own good, I reach for my gun_.

  _I would like to discuss the advisability of not removing it before_--.

  _Take it off! That's an order! No discussion! Take it off the easy way now, or I will have to sweat it the hard way later. Either way, it is coming off_.

  _You are a very stubborn man, Commander_.

  _You're damiwd right I am! Now!_

  _As you say, sir. It will be easier if you calm down a bit_.

  _I _am_ calm_.

  There came the sensation of a dark bird passing through his head.

  _The globe, Dr. Pels... Of course!_

  _Now that you recall it, you can see that it is slim indeed. The stuff of dreams; an impossible, bootstrap-type paradox_--.

  _But you felt strongly enough about it to attempt to suppress my memories of the matter. --No, Shind. There is something here that bears further inquiry_.

  _What are you going to do?_

  _I am going to read Pels' latest papers, and I am going to ascertain where his current interests lie. I am also going to determine his present physical whereabouts_.

  Once more, there came to him the mental equivalent of a sigh.

  That night he sent a request for a special messenger ship to come to Earth and pick up a parcel for delivery to the High Command on Elizabeth. The expense would be astronomical, but his credit was good. He personally crated the globe and included a "Gentlemen: Best wishes. --Malacar Miles, Fit. Cdr., Ret., 4th Stir., DYNAB" note. Then he began reading--and in some cases rereading--the writings of pathologist Larmon Pels.

  When morning lightened the mists over Manhattan, he was still reading. He glanced at his notes. Aside from jottings with respect to medical items in which he was personally interested, he had written only two things he felt to be important: "Deiban fever" and "Special interest in the H case."

  At that point, he debated retiring, decided against it, hit himself with a stimulator.

  Morwin might have something else I want, he decided.

  Later that day, as they sat to lunch, Morwin was saying, "... Pretty rough one you sprang on me, sir. I've done things verging on nightmare before, but nothing that emotionally charged. It kind of drained me. I didn't mean to pass out on you like that, though."

  "I'm sorry I did it to you. I hadn't guessed it would affect you the way it did."

  "Well ..." Morwin smiled and took a sip of coffee. "I'm glad you liked it."

  "You're sure you won't take my money?"

  "No thanks. --May I go to the upper deck again after lunch, to see the volcano?"

  "Certainly. I'll go with you. Finish up, and we'll take a walk."

  They rose to the upper levels, where they looked out and down and around. The sun had changed portions of the prospect to golden confetti. The collapsed skyline leaned like an ancient fence. Fires bubbled orange within a dark caidron. Molten stones were fired upward, filling portions of the air like flak. Occasionally, a faint tremor was felt. Vhen the winds rose or shifted there was sometimes a parting of the agitated curtain; then sections of the dark Atlantic, especially that neck which curved inward, lapping about the base of the cone, would become visible through the distorting lens of the gases. The leaves of the man-thick vines grew green at their bases; the upper ones were black as crows.

  "... Hard to believe that the whole world is like this," Morwin was saying, "and that it happened during our lifetimes."

  "Ask the CL about it. They did it."

  "... And that nobody will ever live here again, on the home planet."

  "I live here--to remind them of their guilt, to stand as a warning of their own fate."

  "... There are many worlds such as this once was. There are millions of innocent persons on them."

  "In reaching all the guilty one sometimes strikes the innocent as well. Generally, I'd say. It is the way of revenge."

  "And if revenge is abandoned, a few generations will level both the guilty and the innocent, anyhow. The new generation, at least, will be totally blameless for this--and worlds will endure."

  "That's too philosophical an outlook to accept--for a man who has lived through some of the things I have."

  "I lived through them too, sir."

  "Yes, but--"

  He bit off his words.

  They stared outward for a time, then, "Has that disease specialist, Larmon Pels, stopped by Honsi recently?" Malacar asked.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact. Was he here too?"

  "Some time ago. What was he looking for on your world?"

  "Some general medical information, vital statistics and a man who wasn't there."

  "The man ... ?"

  "Hyneck, or something like that, I believe. There was no record of him with us either, though. --Look at that flare-up, will you?"

  H? Malacar asked himself. Could this Hyneck or whatever be the disease pool? I never heard of him either, but if he is--.

  _Deiban fever has, for the first time, been detected on worlds other than Deiba_, he remembered reading. _It is invariably fatal, save for one known exception. I refer, of course, to the case of H. The agent of transmission is not yet known_.

  If this man were H, could he possibly also be the unwitting transmitter of the condition? It would be simple enough to obtain the exact name cited in Pels' request. I will, of course.

  The outbreaks of Deiban fever on worlds other than Deiba were always accompanied by the occurrence of half a dozen other exotic diseases. Their presence, simultaneously, had never been adequately explained. But H had had countless diseases and survived them all, been pronounced cured. Could it be that some unknown cue within H caused them to recrudesce simultaneously--all mutually contagious?

  The possible military applications flashed through Malacar's mind like the orange flare-up below him.

  Everybody is prepared for bacteriological warfare, on one level or another--even combined approaches, he decided. But here would be a random assault, shotgun-style, attributable to knowable yet still unclassified natural causes. If this is possible and H is the key to controlling the process--or somehow _is_ the process--then I hear the tolling of the death bell. I could hurt the CL more than I'd thought. It but remains to determine whether this Hyneck is indeed H; and if so, to locate him.

  For hours they stood and watched the flames and the seething lava, the shifting patterns of sky and sea. Then Morwin cleared his throat.

  "I'd like to rest for a time now. I still feel somewhat weak," he said.

  "Of course, of course," said Malacar, suddenly withdrawing his attention from something distant. "I believe I will remain here myself. It loo
ks as if another flare-up is due."

  "I hope you didn't mind the unexpected company."

  "Far from it. You've raised my spirits more than I can tell you."

  He watched him go, then chuckled.

  Perhaps that dream-globe you created was true, he decided. An accurate prediction of things to come. I never actually had hoped to succeed, unless ... How does it go? Those lines I learned at the university ... ?

  Unless the giddy Heaven fall,

  And Earth some new Convulsion tear;

  And, us to joyn, the World should all

  Be cramp'd into a _Planisphere_.

  If I'm correct on this thing, I am going to cram it all there--all of the CL, just as you did that vision--into a planisphere.

  _Shind!_ he called out. _Do you know what has happened?_

  _Yes. I have been listening_.

  _I will ask Morwin to stay and mind the shop. We ourselves will soon be leaving on another journey_.

  _As you say. Where to?_

  _Deiba_.

  _I feared as much_.

  Malacar laughed at this retort, and the mist ran away with the noon.

  * * *

  He watched the spiraling stars, like the distant fireworks of childhood. His hand fell upon the monogrammed bag fastened at his belt. He had forgotten it was there. He glanced downward when he heard the clicking sound, and for a moment he forgot the stars.

  His stones. How lovely they were. How could he have pushed them from his memory with such ease? He fingered them and smiled. Yes, these were true. A piece of mineral never betrays you. Each is unique, a world unto itself and harmless. His eyes filled with tears.

  "I love you," he whispered, and one by one he counted them out and replaced them in the bag.

  As he tied them again at his belt, he watched the movements of his hands. His fingers left moist smudges upon the material. But his hands were beautiful, she had told him. And she was correct, of course. He raised them near to his face and a surge of power swept through his body and settled within them. He knew that he was stronger now than any man or nation. Soon he would be stronger than any world.