To Die In Italbar

by Roger Zelazny

  He must have dozed, for he was aware of coming awake once more, with the touch of her hand upon his shoulder.

  "Malacar?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm cold. May I come closer?"

  "Sure."

  He moved his arm and she was beside him. She clung to him as though he were floating and she were not. He put his arm about her shoulders, drew her head onto his chest and returned to sleep.

  In the morning, they breakfasted at a place several doors up the street from the brothel. Malacar noticed a group of women at a far table who kept darting glances in his direction.

  "Why do those women keep looking at me?" he asked softly.

  "They work where I do," she told him. "They are wondering about the fact that you spent the entire night with me."

  "This doesn't happen very often?"

  "No."

  Returning, they obtained cartons and Malacar helped her fill them with her belongings. She was silent as they packed, as silent as she had been most of the morning.

  "You are afraid," he said.

  "Yes."

  "This will pass."

  "I know," she said. "I thought that I would feel many things if this day ever came, but not afraid."

  "You are leaving something that you know for something unknown. It is understandable."

  "I do not want to be weak."

  "Fear is not a sign of weakness." He patted her shoulder. "You finish packing now. I'll call the port and arrange for them to pick up your stuff and hold it."

  She drew away.

  "Thanks," she said, returning to her packing.

  I hope she leaves the picture and those damned whips, he thought.

  After he had made arrangements for a messenger pickup, he had his call transferred to the flights controller's office. He kept the screen blanked.

  "Can you tell me," he inquired, "whether the jump-buggy which landed last night during the storm was a Service ship?"

  "It was not," came the reply. "It was a privately owned vessel."

  Which means nothing, he told himself. If the Service asks for secrecy, they get cooperation. I might as well push this as far as I can, though.

  "Would you identify the vessel for me?"

  "Surely. It is the _Model T_, out of Liman, Bogotelles. Signor Enrico Caruso is logged here as master and owner."

  "Thank you."

  He broke the connection.

  It still proves nothing, he decided. Except, there is the fact that the Service has always been quite open when it comes to following me about. A warning, actually, when they do it. I must be getting paranoid. No sense checking on this Caruso. If he is real, nothing. If he is not, it will take too long to pierce his disguise. Furthermore, I should not really care. Unless he is an assassin. But even then ...

  "I'm ready," she said.

  "Good. Here is some money. Count it and tell me if there is enough. I'll wait here for the messenger while you get us mounts and equipment."

  "There is more than enough," she said. "Malacar ..."

  "Yes?"

  "When should I tell them that I am quitting?"

  "Right now, if you want. Or write them a note if you don't want to talk with them."

  She brightened.

  "I'll write them a note."

  That afternoon, they moved into the hills, pack animal trailing behind, tethered to Jackara's saddle. She drew rein and turned to regard the city below them. Malacar halted his mount also, but he watched her rather than Capeville. She said nothing. It was as if he were not present.

  Her eyes were narrow and her lips pressed so tightly together as to be all but invisible. Her hair was bound with a ribbon and he watched the wind play with its ends. She sat so for perhaps half a minute. He felt as if a wave of pure hate were passing, flowing down the slopes, breaking upon the city. Then it was gone, and she turned and her mount moved forward once again.

  I see the dream, Jackara, he said to himself. The one that Morwin would do you ...

  All that afternoon they rode, and he saw the opposite shore of the peninsula where the waters were lighter in color and there was no city. He made out a few shacks on the distant shore, but between their beach and the hills rose a tangle of green, where runners like grapevines crossed from tree to tree and dark birds fluttered and lit, fluttered and lit, among the leaves. The sky was half overcast, but the sun occupied the other half and the day was still bright. The trail remained damp, tacky from the previous night's rain, and they muddied clear puddles as they passed. He noted that his mount's hoofprints were triangular in shape, and it occurred to him that the beast he rode could be a vicious fighter. Far below, there were some whitecaps on the water, and he saw that the trees were moving.

  The wind has not hit this high yet, he thought. But it will probably rain again tonight, judging from those clouds. Tarps might have been better than those flimsies she bought if the winds get bad up here ...

  They halted before dusk and took a meal. By then, Capeyule was out of sight. Shind sprang down from the pack mount he had been riding and sat with them. Jackara smiled. She seemed to have taken a liking to the Darvenian. This pleased Malacar, who decided, She hates all the people she has known so much that it is probably easier for her to be friends with an alien.

  He ate his food while the sky darkened. It was now completely overcast, and the night was near. Occasional gusts of wind struck them.

  "Where should we camp, Jackara? And how soon?"

  She raised a finger, swallowed, then said, "About six more miles and we will come to a place sheltered on two sides. We can pitch our flimsy there."

  By the time they reached the site it was already raining.

  Lying there, still wet, listening to the movements of the _kooryabs_, feeling the wind and sometimes the rain, hearing both, holding her, looking up the walls of gray stone at their bridge, night, he planned ahead, selecting worlds for death. He conceived a master plan then, turned it over in his mind, decided it would work, filed it for future implementation. He was ready. Two more days and they would reach the Mound. Beside him, Jackara made small noises in her chest.

  _Good night, Shind_.

  _Good night, Commander_.

  _Is she having a nightmare?_

  _No. Her dream is pleasant_.

  _Then I shan't awaken her. Sleep well_.

  _And yourself_.

  He lay there for a long while listening to the night, and then he joined it.

  They departed the peninsula late the following morning, turned to the northwest, headed inland. Their way continued as a gradual ascent until they reached a tableland which they crossed that afternoon. This brought them to the foot of another line of hills. Within these lay the Mound, Jackara told him. They would sight it before nightfall.

  Nor was she incorrect. They topped a rise, she gestured, he nodded. A gigantic, flat-topped mass of rock lay a few miles away. Between themselves and the mesa was a wide canyon through which they must pass to achieve it. The kooryabs picked their way almost casually among the boulders.

  By nightfall, they had crossed and were ascending an easy trail that began at the southern foot of the Mound and worked its way westward and up. By then, Malacar had grown at ease with his mount, and trusting its hoofs beneath stars was not difficult.

  It was not until morning, when he could properly survey the ruin, that he began to realize the scope of the task which lay before him. True to Pei'an architectural precedent, none of the buildings had been especially close together. They were spread over an area approximately two miles in length and a quarter mile across. The remains were mainly foundations. Here and there, a wall still stood. There was much debris on the ground and grasses and vines grew among it, covering or partly covering some of the rubble. The place was virtually devoid of trees. Outside the general lines of what had once been the town stood a small, square structure, sunbleached, and weather-worn.

  "Is that the war installation?" he asked, gesturing.

  "Yes. I've been inside
it. The roof is partly fallen in and it is full of insects and smells had. They took everything with them when they abandoned it."

  He nodded.

  "Then to start, let's just walk a bit and you can give me a rough idea of what's what."

  Shind accompanied them, a small shadow passing among stones.

  For several hours they walked, and she told him what she knew of the place. After this, he selected the most prominent of the ruins for close scrutiny, hoping it would be one of these which would have attracted H. But when lunchtime arrived, he was no nearer satisfaction than he had been at sunrise.

  After lunch, he climbed the highest accessible point (a wall) and from there sketched the best map he could of the entire area. Then, point by point, he marked it off in his mind and gridded the map to follow. That afternoon, he placed a marker at each spot where the lines crossed.

  "We are going to explore it section by section?" she asked.

  "That's right."

  "Where will we begin?"

  "Choose one," he said, proffering the map.

  She gave him a quick glance, saw that he meant it.

  "All right. Here--in the middle."

  That day they searched two of the squares he had drawn, going through them foot by paced foot, crawling through cellars and subcellars, turning blocks, tramping down or separating long weeds or grasses. They worked until they could see no longer, then returned to the camp they had made and kindled a fire.

  Later that night as they stared at stars, she broke a long silence by saying, "We're off to a good start."

  He did not reply, but lay there smoking. After a while, she found his hand with both of hers and squeezed it so tightly that it almost hurt.

  _What's wrong with her now, Shind?_

  _She is trying to comfort you. She feels that you are unhappy that you did not locate what you sought today_.

  _Well, she is correct, of course. But then, I did not really expect to come across anything the first day_.

  _Perhaps you ought to tell her that. Her mind is a strange place. She is unhappy because she thinks that you are_.

  _Oh, hell!_

  _Commander_ ...

  _Yes?_

  _I wish I had never told you about that dream_.

  _I already know that_.

  _It is still not too late_.

  _Go to sleep, Shind_.

  _Yes, sir_.

  "Hey, Jack?"

  "Yes?"

  He reached over with his free hand, placed it on the back of her head and turned her toward him. He leaned and kissed her forehead, then released her.

  "You're a good guide and today was a good start," he said.

  Then he turned away and went to sleep.

  Star light, star bright, she thought over and again--because there were so many of them--give him his wish.

  In the morning they began again, and by noon they had worked their way through three more of the squares. They located a hopeful sign--old cooking utensils of a local make and a dirt-covered flimsy--in the day's fourth square. But although they excavated for yards about the area, they uncovered nothing else.

  "This might have been his camp," she said.

  "Or anyone else's. There is nothing here of value."

  "If this is the place, though, it could mean that he was working nearby."

  "Perhaps. Let's finish this square and take the one below afterward."

  They continued, completing eight squares. There were no more finds that day.

  _Shind?_

  _Yes, Jackara?_

  _Is he asleep?_

  _Yes. But even if he were not, he would not hear us if I did not choose. What do you wish?_

  _Is he distraught?_

  _Not especially. He is always very quiet when he works. He is--occupied. You have done nothing to disturb him_.

  _You have known him for a long while?_

  _Over twenty Earth years. I was his personal translator during the war_.

  _And you fight with him still, for the DYNAB. From among all his command, you stayed with him to continue the battle_.

  _I am sometimes helpful to him_.

  _It is good to hear of such loyalty to the cause_.

  _One cannot long share thoughts as we have done without either going insane or coming to love. Mine is a personal feeling toward Malacar. The DYNAB is only incidental. I serve it because it still means something to him_.

  _You love him? You are a female?_

  _As a matter of fact, I am a female of my kind. But this, too, is only incidental. It would take months to teach a human the way a Darvenian thinks... and feels. And it would serve no useful purpose. Call it love_.

  _I did not realize this, Shind_.

  The mental equivalent of a shrug followed.

  _You say that you are good with a gun_.

  _Yes_, she replied.

  _Then keep it ready whenever you are near him and be prepared to use it instantly, should he be threatened_.

  _Threatened?_

  _I have had many misgivings concerning this expedition. I feel that there is danger, though I do not know how or why it will arrive_.

  _I will be ready_.

  _Then I shall rest more easily. Good night, Jackara_.

  _Good night, Shind_.

  She moved her pistol to a position from which it could be fired quickly, and she slept with her hand upon it.

  As they worked their way through the third day, Malacar heard a faint sound from above and scanned the sky. A jumpbuggy was moving from the south toward the northwest. Jackara stopped her work and stared at it also.

  It seemed to grow as they watched it.

  "It's coming this way. It may pass overhead."

  "Yes."

  _Shind. Can you--?_

  _No, the distance is too great for me to read anything_.

  _If it goes overhead ... ?_

  _I will see what I can do_.

  Within a matter of minutes it had reached the mesa. It cruised slowly, several hundred feet above the ground, and began to pass over the ruins. When it reached a position where the pilot could not but have seen them--looking groundward as he must have been--it came to sudden life and sped on to the northwest, gaining altitude as it went. Soon it was gone from sight.

  _It contains one occupant, a man_, Shind said to both of them. _He was curious about the ruins. This is all that I was able to read_.

  "Sight-seeing, perhaps."

  "Then why did he run when he saw us?"

  "No way of telling."

  Malacar returned to the camp and unpacked a laser subgun, which he strapped to his shoulder. Jackara checked her own weapon when she saw what he was doing.

  They moved back to the square they had been working.

  "I have an idea," she said.

  "Tell me about it."

  "The Pei'ans are Strantrians, and Strantrian shrines are nearly always underground. We have not come across one yet. If, as you guess, your H was an amateur archaeologist--"

  He nodded vigorously and studied the map again.

  "I'm going to climb that wall once more," he said, looking over his shoulder. "An underground chamber the size of a Strantrian shrine might be partly caved in after all these years. I'll look for sinkholes."

  He mounted the wall and turned his head slowly, from left to right. Then he withdrew the map, marked it, checked it against his observations once more.

  He climbed down and moved to Jackara's side.

  "I saw six dark places," he said, exhibiting the map. "We will probably come across more holes, but those six were the only ones I could make out from up there. So we will start with them. Pick one."

  She did, and they moved off in that direction.

  The fourth cavity they investigated was a Strantrian shrine.

  Lying spread-eagled, he flashed his light downward through the gloom. It had once been a five-sided chamber, he saw. Below, ahead and to his left lay the remains of what must have been the central altar. An enormous mound of rubble blocked his v
iew to the front and the far left. Edging forward and turning to his right, he saw the low archway and a portion of the foyer that lay beyond it. From there, a flight of steps normally led upward to ...

  He estimated the approximate aboveground position, crept back from the hole and went to the shattered building. He pulled on his gloves, stooped and began throwing pieces of masonry aside.

  "This is the way," he said. "It shouldn't be too difficult to clear. This stuff is fairly loose."

  "What about lowering ourselves through the hole?"

  "It collapsed there once. It's weak. We'll go the safe way."

  She nodded, donned her own gloves and joined him.

  By nightfall, they had cleared the surrounding area and, he estimated, about two thirds of the stairwell.

  "Sit on the top step and hold the light for me," he ordered; and he worked for another two hours.

  "You must be getting tired," she said.

  "A bit. But I've only a few more feet to go."

  He passed her with a melon-sized stone in his arms.

  _There is somebody else on this plateau with us_, said Shind.

  _Where?_ asked Malacar, dropping the stone onto a heap.

  _I cannot say for certain. It seems to be to the northeast of here. It is a general sense of presence that I have. Nothing specific_.

  _Could it be some animal?_ asked Jackara.

  _This is an intelligence of a higher sort_.

  _Try to read it_.

  _I am trying, but it is too distant_.

  _Well, keep on with it and let us know when you succeed_.

  Malacar moved near to Jackara.

  "Turn off the light," he said.

  She did, and he unslung his weapon and held it in one hand.

  "Let's wait here awhile," he said, seating himself beside her.

  _There is only one_, said Shind.

  _Could it be the same one who passed us in the jumpbuggy this afternoon?_ asked Jackara.