To Die In Italbar

by Roger Zelazny

  _I cannot tell_.

  "The jump-buggy could have returned at a low altitude," she said, "and landed in one of the canyons near here."

  _Is it moving in this direction?_ he asked.

  _It seems to be stationary_.

  They waited.

  After a quarter of an hour, Shind said, _It still has not moved. It may have made camp_.

  "What are we going to do, Malacar?"

  "I am deciding whether I should go have a look, or try to break through here tonight."

  "He has no way of knowing where we are. If it is the jumpbuggy man, we are nowhere near the place we were when it passed. Why go looking for trouble?"

  "I'm curious."

  "Shind can tell you if he moves. If I go farther down the stairway, the light will not be visible above the ground. We could probably be inside in an hour or so. If we locate what you are looking for, we can move out tonight and let him camp here as long as he wants."

  "You are right, of course--tactically."

  He rose.

  "Careful on those steps."

  _Shind, tell us immediately if he moves. Have you any idea how far away he is?_

  _I would judge about two miles. If I were to advance a few hundred yards, I might be able to obtain stronger impressions_.

  _Go ahead_.

  Malacar stood ten feet beneath the ground and Jackara was to his left and above him. He reslung his subgun and renewed his assault on the rubble. Perhaps ten minutes passed before a gap appeared near the top of the archway.

  _Commander, I am still advancing. The impressions are stronger. It is a masculine mind. It seems to be about the business of bedding down for the night_.

  _Good. Continue to monitor_.

  He enlarged the opening he had made. He cast the stones beside him on the stair. Jackara leaned her back against the wall, holding the light in her left hand. Her right hand rested upon the butt of her pistol.

  "Pretty soon," said Malacar, drawing three large stones from the heap before him. Smaller ones rattled to the ground as he did so.

  He twisted aside a metal strut which had bent downward. Taking a step back, he drove his heavy right boot forward into the top of the heap. Stones rattled to the floor inside, and dust rose about them. Jackara coughed and the light wavered.

  "Sorry," he said. "I wanted to get the small stuff out of the way in a hurry. We should be able to get in in a few more minutes."

  She nodded and the light nodded with her. Malacar tore into the heap.

  _Commander!_

  _What?_

  _I made contact with his mind, to probe it. He went away_.

  _What do you mean, he went away?_

  _I can no longer read anything, even the fact of his existence. He detected my presence when I made the attempt. Now he is shielding. He is a tele path himself--a skillful one. What should I do?_

  _Come back. We are about to go in. --Of what race is this creature?_

  _Your own, I think_.

  _Humans aren't telepaths_.

  _There are some, you know. It seemed like the mind of a man_.

  Malacar moved more masonry and twisted another strut out of the way.

  "Our visitor is a telepath," he said. "He has blocked Shind. Shind is on her way back now. --There. I think we can get through that opening."

  "Do you think we should? It might find us here."

  "'It' is apparently a human being," he said. "If he can read us anywhere, he can find us anywhere--back in camp, say. We might as well continue."

  He leaned forward and crawled across the heap, passing beneath the archway and into the foyer. He regained his footing and stood.

  "Come on in," he said.

  He directed the beam ahead of her and she followed. She took his hand and came to her feet in the small room.

  "This way."

  They moved into the pentagonal chamber, and small things rushed away from his light and vanished into the shadows. He flicked the light beam about the room. There were overturned pews, dusty pews, pews which had sagged and broken. He turned to the altar--a green stone containing many fracture lines. Then he stared at the rows of glassite plates which surrounded them, depicting the Pei'an deities. There were hundreds of them upon the walls, some shattered, some hanging loosely. A few had fallen to the floor. Turning, he raked his light across them all.

  "Pretty well preserved," he said. "How old is this place supposed to be?"

  "Nobody knows for certain," she told him. "This city was here and in ruins when Deiba was discovered, about nine hundred Earth years ago."

  _I am here_, said Shind, and a dark form entered through the passage they had cleared.

  _Good. What more of our visitor?_

  _Nothing. I am going to attempt to shield us from him while you search this place_.

  _Capital_.

  He began to scan the floors, moving among the remains of the pews. After an hour and a half, he had covered this area and located nothing. He moved to the altar and began sifting through the pieces of ceiling that lay about it.

  "I think I've found something," he heard her say, from far ahead and to his left, where she was seeking along the walls with a small light of her own.

  He went to her immediately.

  "What is it?"

  She pointed with her weak light toward a spot on the floor. He moved his own light to cover it.

  A damp-looking notebook, covered with dust, lay at their feet.

  Stooping, he touched it carefully. Then he lifted it and dusted its covers. It was a cheap, plasticovered tablet, bearing only its manufacturer's name. Removing his gloves and tucking them behind his belt, he opened it. The pages were damp, the lines blurred or blotted out entirely. One by one, he turned the leaves.

  "Sketches," he said, "of this place. Nothing but sketches," as he closed the tablet.

  "It means that _someone_ was here," she said. "Why throw away a book you've spent so much time drawing in? Maybe this is where H was stricken."

  She drew back suddenly.

  "Could we catch anything from that book?"

  "Not after all these years."

  He shone his light about the area.

  "If he left that, he may have--"

  He held the beam steady. Within its spot lay something that was partly metal. Rotted cloth hung in strips and patches and there was a small container beneath it.

  "Some sort of carrying case," he said, bending forward and touching it lightly.

  Then he froze, seeing through the dust to the markings on the case.

  Carefully, he raised it and blew upon it. Then the old visions of chaos and death swam through his mind once more, for it bore the initials _HvH_.

  "This is it," he said softly. "I know who he is."

  _I feel him!_ said Shind. _Your find excited him and he gave himself away!_

  Malacar whirled, dropping the case and extinguishing the light. He whipped the subgun from his shoulder.

  "Peace!" cried a voice from above him. "I'm not pointing anything at you!"

  Jackara's light went out at that moment, and he heard the safety catch _snick_ on her pistol.

  Through the hole in the ceiling, suddenly silhouetted against stars, he saw the form of a man.

  "You make a good target," Malacar said.

  "I exposed myself to show good faith, when I saw that you would hold your fire. I want to talk."

  "Who are you?"

  "What difference does it make? I know what you know now. Heidel von Hymack is the name I came here to verify."

  While the man was speaking, a faint illumination appeared on the wall to the right. Malacar glanced at it. It was one of the glassite plates. It had begun glowing, giving off a faint green light. It bore the picture of a naked man, holding a thundercloud in one hand and a bow in the other. The face was partly hidden by the raised arm. At his hip hung a quiver of thunderbolts that matched the yellow sky above him.

  "So you know his name," said Malacar. "What are you going to do with it?"
>
  "Find the man it fits."

  "Why?"

  "He represents a very great danger to a large number of people."

  "I know that. That is why I want him."

  "And I know you, Malacar. You are a man I once admired very much--still admire. You are making a mistake in this matter, though. Heidel cannot be used the way you want to use him. If you try it, he will become uncontrollable. The DYNAB itself will be in danger, not just the CL."

  "Who the hell are you?"

  "Enrico Caruso," he replied.

  _He is lying_, said Shind. _His name is Francis Sandow_.

  "You are Francis Sandow," Malacar said aloud, "and I can see why you want to stop me. You are one of the wealthiest men in the galaxy. If I were to hurt the CL badly, I would be stepping on a lot of your interests, wouldn't I?"

  "That is correct," said Sandow. "But that is not why I am here. I generally deal through representatives on all matters. This is an exception because of the nature of the case. You are a doctor of medicine. You are aware that there are many conditions which are not purely physical in origin."

  "So?"

  "You have been exploring down there for a long while. Did you find any indication that anyone else has been inside recently?"

  "No, I didn't."

  "All right, then. Without being able to see it, I will tell you something that I could not know by any ordinary means. --You are standing near to the place where you made your discovery, next to a wall. Have your woman keep me covered and turn your light onto that wall, up rather high. Above, or very near to the place where you located the thing, you will see a glassite plate. I will describe it: You will see the head and shoulders of a blue-skinned woman. She has two faces, one looking in either direction. The one to the left is attractive and there are flowers on that side of the picture--blue flowers. The gal on the right has pointed teeth and a sinister expression. Near to her there is a framework of blue snakes. Directly above, there will be a blue circle."

  Malacar switched on the light.

  "You're right," he said. "How did you know?"

  "It is a representation of the goddess Mar'i-ram, the queen of healing and of disease. It was doubtless beneath her picture that von Hymack lay, somewhere between life and death. He bears, in a strange way, the blessing and the curse of that entity."

  "You've lost me. Are you trying to say that the goddess is real?"

  "In a sense, yes. There is a complex of energies which somehow possesses the attributes ascribed to that Strantrian deity. Call it what you would. It now inhabits the man we seek. I have been presented with satisfactory evidence that this is true. Now that I am aware of the identity of the individual involved, I must seek him."

  "What will you do if you find him?"

  "Cure him--or failing that, kill him."

  "No!" said Malacar. "I need him alive."

  "Don't be a fool," Sandow cried, as Malacar swung the light and it fell upon him.

  Hand raised to shield his eyes, Sandow threw himself backward as Malacar fired--not at him, but through the ceiling.

  With a rattling and a crash, a section of roofing gave way. It seemed that a body fell.

  "Hit it!" cried Malacar, falling flat and dragging Jackara with him.

  He crawled forward and lay behind a low hedge of stone, subgun at ready.

  _He's alive! He's conscious! He's got a gun!_

  Malacar embraced the floor as a laser beam melted a stone near his left shoulder.

  "Let a man finish talking, will you?"

  "We've nothing to say to each other."

  "Judge it after you hear it! I'll hold fire if you will!"

  "Don't shoot," he said to Jackara. "We'll hear him out."

  He drew a bead, then said, "All right, Sandow. What is it?"

  "You know what I want. I want von Hymack. I will not argue the morality of what you are planning, since you have already made up your mind. I read it there. I would like to offer you a deal, however. --Damn it! Stop sighting in on me! No tricks involved here! You live on a dead, stinking, radioactive cinder--the Earth, the home planet of our species. How would you like to see it clean and green again? All those volcanoes dampened, the radioactives neutralized, dark soil, trees, fish in the oceans, the original continental configurations? I can do it, you know."

  "That would cost a fortune."

  "So? Is it a deal, then? The Earth the way that it was before the war, in return for you forgetting about von Hymack?"

  "You're lying!"

  _He is not lying_, said Shind.

  "It would be another habitable world for the DYNAB," he was saying, "which you claim means so much to you."

  All the while Sandow was speaking, Malacar attempted to control his thoughts--to operate automatically, as under battle conditions--and not to let any intention or desire pass through his consciousness. Carefully, soundlessly, he inched his way to the right, fixing on the voice. Now almost touching the wall, he could see the dim outline of the man's head and left shoulder. Gently, he squeezed the trigger.

  His arm was numbed to the elbow with the force of the blow that struck him; and he saw his shot go wild, scoring the masonry high on the far wall.

  With his left hand, he protected his eyes against the flying shards. Almost instantly he lowered it, however, to seize the gun and continue its upward arc.

  The fires fell upon the ceiling and the ceiling upon the man.

  Sandow was finally silent.

  They lay there for a long while, listening to their breathing, their heartbeats.

  _Shind?_

  _Nothing. You have killed him_.

  Malacar rose to his feet.

  "Come on, Jackara. We had better be going," he said.

  Later, before they broke camp, when she looked at him in the light, she said, "You are bleeding, Malacar," and she touched his cheek with her fingertips.

  He jerked his head away.

  "I know. I got cut when that damned picture of the green man fell on me."

  He tightened his saddle cinch.

  "Could he really have restored the Earth, Malacar?"

  "Probably, but that would not have solved anything."

  "You said you need more worlds for League status. Earth could have counted for one."

  "To gain it, I would have had to surrender my weapon."

  "How did he know about that picture of the goddess-- Mar'i-ram?"

  "All Strantrian shrines are laid out alike. He knew approximately where we were standing. Anyone who knows how their stations are set up could have said what was on the wall."

  "Then he was making all that part up?"

  "Of course. It was a ridiculous story. His interest in the matter was purely economic."

  "Then why did he come in person?"

  "I don't know. --There, I'm ready. Let's go."

  "Aren't you going to put anything on it?"

  "What?"

  "The cut."

  "Later."

  Mounting, they hurried through the night toward Capeyule and its rain.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dr. Pels studied the reports.

  Too late, he decided; and, Something has gone very wrong. The _mwalakharan khurr_ is there, all right, and a dozen other things. We cannot let him export them. Where is he? There is no record of his departure from Cleech. Yet there was a jump-buggy stolen from the space port, and the port was a point of infection. Was he trying to get away--to isolate himself--when he saw what was happening? Or was he simply going somewhere else?

  Debussy's _La Mer_ stirred about him and he regarded Cleech.

  What to do? he thought. I have waited a long while and now the time for waiting has finished and the time for action is at hand. If I could have located him a month ago, this might not have occurred. I must find him as soon as possible now and speak with him, convince him to enter my care and remain until I solve this. I wonder whether he would be willing to undergo the process that keeps me going? Would he give up life as he knows it and become--a ghost
--like me? Trade his present existence for the passionless, sleepless life of the void? If he is aware of what he is doing, I am certain that he would agree. This, or suicide-- They would be about the only choices open to a sane, decent man ... But what if he is no longer sane? Supposing he broke beneath the strain, or as a side effect of his condition? What then? This, too, could be an explanation for his disappearance.

  And what if his condition proves as unassailable as my own? he wondered. Perhaps freezing would be the answer. It could be such a long wait, otherwise. But with no assurance of ever awakening, he may not consent. How shall I treat with him when I find him? The time for action is definitely at hand, and I do not know what to do. Wait, I suppose. There is nothing else.

  After a time, he sent a message to the Public Health Coordinator for the planet, offering his services in dealing with the multiplicity of epidemics which so far had devastated two continents. Then he tuned his subspace receiving set to News Central. Since he could listen on a round-the-clock basis, he hoped that he would learn the next site of infection in time. He readied himself for departure on notice.

  Then he listened to the news, and the impressions of a sea he had never seen accompanied it into his mind.

  * * *

  _It went beautifully_, Heidel told her. _A matter of minutes. Things seem to be somehow accelerated_.

  _It was because you were personally present. You are becoming a focal point. Soon you will be the still center of a cyclone. One day in the near future, there will be nothing able to stand against you. You will need but point your finger and will it and they will die_.

  _Lady-- I know now that you are real and not merely a dream born of fever. I know this because after I have awakened you keep the promises made in this place_ ...

  _As do you. Which is why I reward you so_.

  _You are not as you were before_ ...

  _No. I am stronger_.

  _That is not what I meant. Though this, too, is true, what I meant is that something has changed. What has happened? I find that I do not always think too clearly_.

  _It is as I told you. You are becoming like unto a god_.

  _Yet a part of me, somewhere, seems to be screaming_.

  _This, too, will pass. It is but a phase_.