Maureen Birnbaum, Barbarian Swordperson

by George Alec Effinger

  Okay, I'm not as stupid as I look: I finally figured out that the Hideout was like a hideout or something. We started hurrying back down the road. "Where is this place?" I go. "And what are you so afraid of?"

  "It's going to be dark soon," he goes, as if that said it all.

  I laughed. "Your mama wants you home by suppertime, huh?"

  "My dear girl—" He saw the grim look in my eyes and caught himself. "Maureen, perhaps you haven't heard Aton's ideas explained clearly."

  I go, "So who is this Aton dude when he's at home? You mentioned him before."

  "Aton 77 is one of the most brilliant scientists on all of Lagash. He is a famous astronomer, and director of Saro University. He's predicted that the entire world will go mad tonight when total Darkness falls."

  It sounded mondo dumb to me. "That's why God gave us nightlights," I go. "I mean, I even had this Jiminy Cricket lamp when I was a kid. Wouldn't go to sleep or anything until Daddy turned it on for me."

  His voice trailed off. I don't think he even heard me, you know? He goes, "And then after the insanity starts, the fire and destruction will begin. Nothing will be left. Our entire civilization, every vestige of our culture, all of it will be eradicated. And the Observatory will be the first target, thanks to the Cultists. Our only hope is the Hideout."

  I slid Old Betsy back into her scabbard while I thought about what Segol had said. "You're not kidding about this," I go. "You're like really scared, huh?"

  He dropped his gaze to the ground. "I admit it," he goes, "I'm terrified."

  Well, jeez, Bitsy, he was like such a little boy when he said that! I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, even though I still figured he was maybe stretching the truth just a teensy bit. "That Aton guy is still up there at the Observatory, right?" I go.

  Segol looked up at me sort of mournfully. "Yes, along with a few of the other scientists who volunteered to stay behind and record the event."

  "And you were supposed to be there, too?"

  He looked ashamed, but all he did was nod his head.

  "And instead, you're just zeeking out and lamming it for the Hideout."

  "We've got to move fast, because they'll be coming from Saro City. They may kill us if they catch us here!"

  I had this picture in my mind of those clearly freaked villagers waving torches around in Frankenstein, you know? I knew I could save this guy from a dozen or two rousted locals, but if the whole city turned up, whoa, like seeyabye! So the Hideout sounded like a maximum cool idea.

  We followed the road downhill, and I had more time to think about what Segol had said. I mean, either the deadly cold of deep space had frozen my brain, or I was like really missing something. All I knew was that a lot of irked people were going to shred the Observatory, because they'd be driven loony by the darkness. See, I hadn't noticed the capital D Segol had put on "Darkness."

  "Mr. 154," I go, "or may I call you Segol? Can I like ask you something?"

  "Huh?" he goes. He was way spaced, and he wasn't even paying attention to me or anything.

  "What makes this night different from all other nights?" I go. There was this moment of quiet when I realized that I sounded just like my little cousin Howard on Passover at my Uncle Sammy's. Maybe I'd heard Segol wrong. Maybe he said the threat was coming from "Pharaoh City," not "Saro City."

  "Why, nothing," he goes. "Aton's warning is that tonight will be exactly like last night, two thousand years ago. That's the terrible truth."

  "You want me to believe it hasn't been dark in two thousand years? I mean, when do you people sleep? Look, Lagash would have to practically creep around on its whatyoucall for the days to be that long. And then imagine what it would be like for the poor people on the dark side, going to the beach in the pitch dark all the time." The whole idea was like too weird for words.

  He goes, "I can almost believe that you've come here from some other world. Lagash turns once about its axis in a little more than twenty-three hours. Our nearly eternal day is caused by the six suns. There is always at least one in the sky at all times."

  "Six?" I go. "Now that's just too flaky. If you had that many up there, they'd be blamming into each other all the time."

  He just gave me his indulgent, superior little smirk again. "I see that you aren't familiar with celestial mechanics," he goes.

  "And like you probably aren't familiar with anything else," I go. I could tell by his expression that I'd really ranked him out.

  "The perpetual presence of one or more suns in the skies of Lagash means that Darkness falls only once every 2,049 years, when five of the suns have set and the invisible moon passes between us and Beta, the only remaining source of light and warmth." He glanced upward, and I saw him freeze in terror. Already, the edge of the moon had dented the ruddy edge of Beta.

  "Don't pay any attention to that," I go. I was trying to lend him some of my inexhaustible store of courage. But it was like odd, you know? There are all these stories on Earth about lucky explorers saving their lives by using eclipses to scare the natives. I had to do just the opposite. If the mindless mob caught us, I had to pretend that I could end the eclipse.

  "Soon," he goes, "the Stars!"

  "You bet," I go. I didn't see what all the excitement was. Of course, I didn't hear the capital letter again.

  "When the Stars come out, the world will come to an end." He looked at me, and his eyes were all big and bugged out. I hated to see him so scared, okay? Even in that cranberry light he was sort of cute—for a brainy type, I mean. He wasn't Prince Van or anything, but he wasn't any Math Club geek, either.

  "And you blame it all on the stars?" I go.

  "Strange, isn't it? That Aton's warning should agree with the Cult? Believe me, he wasn't happy about it, but he's absolutely sure of his conclusions. There is definite proof that nine previous cultures have climbed to civilization, only to be destroyed by the Stars. And now it is our turn. Tomorrow, the world will belong to savages and madmen, and the long process will begin again."

  I tapped him on the skull. "Hello, Segol?" I go. "Is anybody like home? You haven't told me what the stars have to do with it."

  He wasn't really paying attention to me, which just goes to show you how zoned out he was, 'cause I made a pretty dramatic presentation with my boobs clad in a metal Maidenform and my broadsword and everything. He goes, "Beenay 25 had an insane idea that there might be as many as two dozen stars in the universe. Can you imagine?"

  "Beenay 25?" I go. "It sounds like an acne cream."

  "And the Stars, whatever they are, only come out in the Darkness. I think it's all superstitious hogwash, myself. But Aton believes that the Cult's ravings may have some basis in fact, that their Book of Revelations may have been written shortly after the last nightfall—"

  Bitsy, you know how they say "my blood ran cold"? The orthodontist shows his bill to your parents and like their blood runs cold, okay? Well, right then I learned what they meant. It took a whole long time to seep into my brain, but finally I realized like, hey, if night falls only once every two thousand years around this place, then the stars won't come out again for centuries, right? And without stars, I'd never be able to whoosh myself home! I'd be stuck on Lagash forever and ever! And I already knew they didn't have TV, so that meant they also didn't have any of the other trappings of modern civilization that are dependent on TV, like the Shopping Channel and Lorenzo Lamas. And could the Galleria have existed back in those pre-test pattern dark ages? I think not.

  So I was not going to be hanging out on Lagash long enough to find out what the dawn would bring. I had one window of opportunity, and I wasn't going to miss it. "What about the weather?" I go.

  "Hmm?" Like Segol the Bionic Brain was aware of my existence again. "You know, if it gets all cloudy, we won't be able to see the stars." Then I'd be trapped there for good.

  He brightened up considerably for a moment. "Yes," he goes, "that would be a miracle."

  "Not for some of us," I go. First I thought he'd f
allen desperately in love with me and wanted me to stay on Lagash. But this bozo was thinking that after two thousand years of buildup, the big night might come and it would be too overcast to see anything. Quel irony, right?

  N.S.L., sweetie—No Such Luck. Beta, the red sun in the sky, was now only a thin crescent like a bloody sliver of fingernail or something. It wouldn't be much longer to total Darkness. It was like slightly obvious that we'd never make it to the Hideout in time. I was stuck out on this road with Segol 154, who was like a total loon. Still, the Hideout was all he could think about.

  "We've got to hurry," he goes, putting his grubby hands on my person and kind of dragging me along after him. "We've got to get to the Hideout. We must make sure you're safe. Your destiny is to have babies, many babies, who will be the hope of Lagash's future."

  I disenhanded myself from him and laughed, a proud and haughty laugh meaning "If you weren't such a pitiful knob, I'd hack you to little pieces for that remark." Let me tell you a little secret, honey: No matter where you go in the known universe, the men are all the same. It's like these honkers are what God gave us as substitutes because all the really buf guys are on back order.

  So what does he do? He grabs me by both shoulders and goggles into my face. "You . . . will be . . . the mother of . . . my children!" he goes. And even if there wasn't a line of drool down his chin, like there should have been.

  You know and I know—and, believe me, Bitsy, now this Segol knows—nobody paws me uninvited. I didn't care if civilization was quickly coming to a screeching halt. I was now totally bugged, and I was going to teach him a lesson in interspatial etiquette. I put one hand flat against his chest and pushed real hard, and the next thing he's down in the road squinting up at me all surprised. I whipped Old Betsy from her scabbard again and took a menacing step toward him. "Look!" he screams. "Behind your

  "Oh, like I'm so sure," I go. But I heard these grumbly sounds, and I turned and saw a mob of people huffing up the hill toward us. They did not look pleased.

  Segol scrabbled to his feet and stood beside me. "Let me do the talking, little lady," he goes. "They may still listen to reason. And maybe you'd better put that silly sword away."

  I decided to let him take his shot. I didn't even freak out about being called "little lady." I was absolutely beyond arguing with him. He could try talking to the mob, and when he'd said his piece, I was going to lop his grody head off. Okay, like I'd given him fair warning, hadn't I?

  But he wasn't even aware that he'd bummed me out. He started walking toward the crowd from the city, both hands raised above his head. I don't know what that was supposed to mean. Segol probably thought he was one dangerous dude. Maybe he thought that with his hands in the air, he wouldn't look like such a terrible threat to the safety of those five hundred howling maniacs. "Listen to me!" he goes. "Listen to me! I mean you no harm!"

  Yeah, right. That made the mob feel a whole lot better about everything, for sure.

  There was this raspy guy at the front of the crowd. He looked like he'd been getting ready for the end of civilization for a long time now, and like he couldn't wait for it to happen, you know? He had wild scraggy hair and big popping old eyes. He just about had a bird when he recognized Segol 154. "That's one of them!" he goes, waving his arms around a lot. "He's from the Observatory!"

  Segol gave him this smile that was supposed to calm him down or something. "Come," he goes, "let us reason together."

  "They didn't come here to talk," I go. "They came here to work your butt."

  Someone else in the crowd started shouting, "Death to the unbelievers! Death to the blasphemers in the Observatory!"

  That cry was taken up by others until it became this ugly chant. I wanted to tell them, hey, I'd never even been in the Observatory, but they wouldn't even have heard me.

  Finally, a tall man in a black robe pushed his way to the front of the crowd. When he raised his hands, they all shut up. "Silence, my friends," he goes. "Let us give these profaners of the truth one last chance to redeem their souls."

  "Who's that?" I go.

  "His name is Sor 5," Segol goes. "He is the leader of the Cultists." "Oh, huh," I go. I turned to this Sor 5 and I go, "I don't know anything about your Cult. What's your problem, anyway?"

  The guy in the robe just gave me this sad little smile. "It's not my problem, young lady. It's yours. You have only a few minutes left before Lagash is swallowed up by the Cave of Darkness. Unless you embrace the revealed truth of our faith, your soul will be stripped from you when the Stars appear. You will become a savage, unreasoning brute."

  I looked at the flipped-out people who made up his congregation, and I figured most of them didn't have far to go. Like maybe they'd already seen the stars, like at some kind of preview party or something. "So what are you guys selling?" I go.

  Sor goes, "Behold! The Cave of Darkness is already engulfing Beta."

  I looked up. There wasn't much of the red sun left. "Really," I go. "Tell me about it."

  "Soon all will be in Darkness, and the Stars will blaze down in all their fury."

  "Really."

  Sor looked confused for a few seconds. "You do not deny any of this?" I go, "See, you're telling me the same thing that Segol told me, and I can't figure out what your hang-up is."

  That made him mad. I thought he was going to split his black robe. "We believe the Stars are the source of the Heavenly Flame, which will scourge and cleanse Lagash. The infidels of the Observatory insist that the Stars are nothing but burning balls of gas, physical objects like our own six suns. They refuse to grant that the Stars have any holy power at all."

  "Death to the unbelievers!" screamed the mob. "Death to the blasphemers in the Observatory!" Sor tried again to quiet them, but this time they wouldn't listen. They surged forward, and I was like sure they were fully ready to tear us limb from limb. I brandished Old Betsy, but I backed away uphill, praying that Segol and I could somehow make it to the Observatory alive.

  The astronomer shot me a terrified glance. "You hold them off," he goes, "and I'll run for help."

  "Right," I go, sort of contemptuously, "you just do that." He was like a real poohbutt, you know?

  Just then, the last red ember of Beta flickered in the sky and went out as the eclipse reached totality. There was a long moment of this really creepy quiet. You couldn't hear a sound, not a person gasping or an animal rustling, not even the wind. It was like being in a movie theater when the film breaks, just before the audience starts getting rowdy. And then the stars came out, normally No Big Deal.

  Except on Lagash, it was a big deal, and not just 'cause it'd been two thousand years since the last time. Bitsy, these people really knew how to have stars! I looked up, and there were a zillion times as many stars as we have on Earth. It reminded me of when we were getting ready for that dance at Brush-Bennett, and you spilled that whole box of glitter on my black strapless. Remember? Well, on Lagash, the night sky looked just like that. All the places between the stars were crammed with stars.

  "Oh . . . my . . . God!" I was totally impressed, but I wasn't, you know, going insane or anything.

  "Stars!" goes Segol in this kind of strangled voice.

  "Surprise," I go. I mean, he was a real melvin.

  Now the mob started screaming and screeching and carrying on. They'd known the Stars were coming, but like they didn't have any idea what stars really were, or how many of them there'd be, and all that. So even Sor looked haired, but I give him credit, he pulled himself together pretty fast. "Our salvation will be the destruction of the Observatory," he goes. I mean, he couldn't bring himself to look up at the stars anymore, and he had to kind of croak his speech out, but he made himself heard. "If we destroy the Observatory and everyone in it, the Stars will spare us. And we must begin with them."

  He was pointing at me and Segol. "That is so lame," I go. "Don't be stupid. There's nothing to be—"

  Sadly, I didn't have the time to finish my explanation. The crowd was full
-on crazy and ready to roust. When they charged, I felt a sudden calmness flood through me. I didn't know what Segol was doing and I didn't care. Old Betsy whistled through the air as I hacked and hewed at the waves of shrieking lunatics. Bodies piled up in front of me and on both sides. I took a couple of buffs and bruises, but I was too skillful and like too excellent for them to fight through my guard.

  Of course, they had me outnumbered, and after a while I realized I was way tired. I wasn't going to be able to handle all of them, so while I fought I tried to think up some, you know, strategy. And then I saw their leader over on the side of the road, kneeling down in the dark, with his face turned up to the sky where the eclipse was still chugging along and the stars were still blazing away. I started working my way toward him, wading through his nutty' buddies with my broadsword cutting a swath before me.

  Finally I was right beside him. I reached down and grabbed him by the neck of his robe and jerked him to his feet. "I am Sor!" he goes, like frothing a little in the corners of his mouth. He wasn't all there anymore, okay?

  "You're sore," I go. I let him go and he fell in a heap at my feet. "Tell your fruitcake army to stand still and shut up, or split your skull open and let the starlight in."

  Sor stared at me fearfully for a few seconds. Then he got to his feet and raised his arms. "Stand still and shut up!" he goes.

  All the rest of the mob stopped what they were doing, which was mostly climbing over the stacks of bodies, trying to get to me.

  "Good," I go. "You have no reason to be afraid."

  Segol started babbling. I'd wondered what had happened to him. "Beenay guessed a dozen, maybe two dozen Stars. But this! The universe, the stars, the bigness!"

  "Lagash is nothing, a speck of dust!" cried a voice from the mob. "We're nothing but insects, less than insects!"

  "I want light! Let's burn the Observatory!"

  "We're so small, and the Darkness is so huge! Our suns and our planet are insignificant!"

  Well, these people had a serious problem. All of a sudden, they realized that there was a lot more to the universe than their precious Lagash. Then I had an idea that might keep these frenzied folks from trashing all of their civilization and maybe save my own neck, too.