by Джеффри Лорд
When he had finished and sat looking at Blade for some sort of reaction, Blade found himself once again having to do some very complex thinking in a very great hurry without any of it showing on his face. The Ice Master either had not told him or (incredible but not impossible) did not himself know a good many of the key facts about the Menel. So discreet exploring and inquiring on his own was going to be needed. This was equally true for information about the Ice Master’s stronghold-he would be taking a great risk of warning the Ice Master about his real plans if he asked too many questions about that.
Set that question aside for a moment. What to say to the Ice Master now? Give him the impression of cooperation, somewhat willing but also dictated by fear for Leyndt’s safety (if he thinks he doesn’t need her as a hold, he will probably kill or condition her at once). Again, balance tone and choice of words perfectly-at a point when Blade would have given his right arm for the chance to give any one of his emotions-particularly the revulsion he felt for the Ice Master-full rein.
«I understand there is a sort of bargain involved here-my cooperation in return for Leyndt’s safety.»
«Of course. But much more than that can be yours after a while-as I said, all the Girls you want, anything this stronghold provides. And when we have destroyed the Menel, anything this world provides. I will rule it, and you will be my second-in-command.» And do all the dirty work, thought Blade.
«All right. Have you thought of enlisting some of your prisoners in this project?» Two men tackling all the Menel seemed rather suicidal.
That almost pushed the Ice Master too far. «Nonsense! None of the male guards and slaves would be safe without a conditioning that makes them useless for anything more than fighting or menial work. That is why I hoped it would not be necessary to condition you-it would have been a total waste of all your higher qualities. And the Girls are like most women-they have no higher qualities to begin with. We can expect nothing from them. We can trust nobody but each other.» He reached out a hand as if he expected it to be shaken, and Blade obliged him, fighting off the urge to fling the man head first into the wall, hopefully breaking all of his bones in the process. But killing the Ice Master would not strike a fatal blow at the Menel. In fact, it would do nothing but leave him and Leyndt (and he didn’t even know where she was) alone in the Ice Master’s stronghold, with no way to get out of it or if they got out of it return to the south-assuming they were not promptly killed by the guards. For the Menel he had some sympathy-a new home for their race was something any people might seek, and be driven to drastic measures in doing so-but for the Ice Master he could have none.
The Ice Master rose to his full imposing height and raised his hand in farewell. Then he turned and strode toward the door. It opened to let him through, then closed behind him, and Blade was alone again.
Chapter 15
He was alone for two days, as nearly as he could guess. There was no clock in his chamber and no dimming of the lights. But he could set himself to sleep for almost any amount of time with great precision, and then estimate the time between the two sleep cycles. This gave him a rough approximation of the amount of time passing.
He was determined to avoid any risk of disorientation; he was also determined to keep himself physically as close to the top line as possible. He had no idea when the Ice Master would call for him, or whether that call might pitch him straight into a situation where he could survive only by using every bit of strength and speed he possessed.
So he kept track of the time, did calisthenics, did unarmed-combat exercises, jogged (and in the process of the jogging estimated the size of the room and memorized his estimates). He bathed regularly in the huge sunken tub-pool (which had no adjustment for water flow or temperature; one slapped a projecting plate at the head end and the water flowed in until the tub was full, water always slightly too cool for Blade’s preference). He ate the food which appeared in a recess in the wall regularly twice a day-a thick gray stew filled with blue lumps tasting like overaged and undercooked chicken and green glutinous lumps that both looked and tasted like a cross between half-baked bread and rice pudding. He drank the hot liquid that accompanied the food-a sweetish liquid the color of weak coffee and the most palatable part of the meal. He decided after the first two meals that the Ice Master’s intention to treat him well did not extend to providing good food. He only hoped that none of the lumps in the stew were protein processed from human victims brought in by the Ice Dragons.
He was taking his bath on the «morning» of the third day when, without any warning, the door opened with its characteristic low swisssh and an unseen hand shoved one of the Girls into the chamber, so violently that she fell to her knees. Blade was instantly alert, springing out of the bath without bothering to dry or dress himself. The girl’s eyes widened as she ran them over his body, standing naked and dripping in front of her. He examined her in his turn, and found the examination a pleasant enough task.
His initial notion that she might have been sent to him as a subtle way of killing him rapidly shrank away to nothing. He found it hard to believe that the short trunks that were her only garment could conceal anything lethal, and he found the notion of poisoned finger-or toe-nails ludicrous. Her skin was pale, but with a healthy tinge of pink, and a light dusting of freckles over her shoulders and down on to the small, firm breasts. There was firm-toned muscle under the curves of waist and hips and legs, and the toes and fingers of the small feet and hands were long and sure of their movements. The ponytail that flowed down her back was shorter than usual-it reached only just below her shoulder blades-and its color perhaps the least attractive feature about her-a sort of dirty blonde. The face was small, square-chinned, with high cheekbones and a delicately chiseled snub nose. The eyes were wide, deep blue, with lashes that half the women Blade knew could match only by going out and buying them. And those eyes struck the jarring note in the whole agreeable picture, because they were wide, staring, and filled with a stark terror that Blade could almost feel crackling in the air like static electricity.
He stepped over to the girl and reached down, putting his hands under her chin to lift her head. It came up stiffly, as though she were setting her neck muscles against it, and the terror in her eyes flashed stronger yet.
«What is your name?» he asked in a voice as low as he could make it and still hope that it would reach her ears.
«I am-I am a Girl,» she said in a voice with a faint tremble in it.
«I know that,» Blade said. «I can tell the difference between boys and girls.» The attempted note of lightness fell away into nothing, like a stone hurled into a canyon. She shivered as though the winds from the glaciers far above were sweeping through the room. His hands tightened briefly on her shoulders, trying to reassure her, but the shivering faded only slightly.
«Well, I cannot go on calling you simply Girl,» he said. «You must have a name. I think-«
She jumped up with a gasp. «No, no, no! I have no name. I am a Girl. I cannot have a name. It is forbidden. I-«He put his arms around her and pulled her gently against him, until her face was buried against his chest. She stopped speaking but went on trembling. «Who forbids it that you have a name?»
«T-t-the Master. He says-«
«-that you are Girls, not people, and only people have names? Is that it?» She did not speak, but nodded slowly and looked up at him with surprise now mixed with the fear in her eyes. His arms tightened again, and went on tightening until her gasp warned him that he was squeezing her as if he had the Ice Master here in his hands. If it had been the Ice Master, he would have gone on squeezing until the man slipped to the floor a boneless pulp. He was beginning to see what the Ice Master had done to the Girls.
«I do not tell the Ice Master everything I do or say,» he said sharply. (Provided, he added to himself, that this room isn’t so thoroughly bugged that the bastard can pick up a cockroach’s footsteps!) «So if you do not tell him everything, then I can give you a name and he will n
ever know that we do forbidden things. Do you understand me?» She nodded, with the surprise now beginning to overcome the terror. He was something new in her life-not surprisingly, all things considered. «Then I think I will call you Lora. Say it after me. Lora.»
«Lora.»
«That’s right. Now, Lora, why are you here?»
«For your p-p-Pleasure,» she said. The stammer would have told him, even without looking into her eyes, that the fear was back again, swamping everything. He felt her stiffen against him until it was as though he held a store-window dummy in his arms.
«Yes. But what kind of pleasure?» She gaped at him as though he had suddenly grown a second head, then stared down at his genitals.
«But you-you seem to be a Whole One. Have you n-n-never taken Pleasure before?»
Blade could not help flushing. She was implying he was either a eunuch or incredibly ignorant. But he felt himself also on the track of something too important to let himself be put aside by a little embarrassment.
«I have not taken pleasure here,» he said with emphasis on the last word. «You must show me how, lest I do something else forbidden that cannot be hidden from the Ice Master.» She swallowed several times hard, then stared at him for a moment, unclasped her trunks, and slipped them off. Nude, she lay down on the hard tile surrounding the bath and spread her legs apart. Her arms were stiff at her side, fists clenched until the knuckles were sheet-white. And the trapped-animal look was back in her eyes, stronger than ever before.
Blade stepped back a pace as the realization hit him, and for a minute could do nothing except swear, out loud and eloquently, by every Home Dimensional and X Dimensional spirit or deity he could remember. The wretched girl on the floor was expecting to be raped! No wonder the Ice Master was able to keep the Girls in line! He wiped out their memories of any previous existence, told them that they were merely Girls-indistinguishable as individuals. Then he conditioned the ungelded males among the slaves and guards-the Whole Ones-to be as brutal and ferocious in sex-in Pleasure-as possible. The Girls were kept in line by threats of being turned over to the Whole Ones for Unlimited Pleasure-no doubt a particularly unpleasant and no doubt usually fatal form of mass rape. Even without considering the possibility of Leyndt being subjected to that treatment, the whole notion made him almost physically ill.
He looked back to the girl. At the moment, he could no more have made love to her than he could have made love to a suit of armor. But if he could demonstrate to Lora that there were other ways of Pleasure than the one she was used to-and if she then passed this earthshaking news on to the other Girls-? Here was very definitely another chink in the Ice Master’s armor, where a wedge might be driven in at the appropriate time. Meanwhile…
«Lora,» he said. Her eyes flickered in his direction. «Don’t lie like that. Sit up and look at me.» For a moment he thought she was too paralyzed by fear to respond, then slowly she sat up and curled her legs under her. Her hands lay in her lap, and gradually he saw the fists unclench themselves. He sat down in the same position in front of her, and patted her hands gently. «That’s much better. I see how the Whole Ones take Pleasure. But I cannot take Pleasure that way. I have not been taught how to do it that way.»
«But that is the Master’s way!»
«Do not always tell me what is the Master’s way! There are many other ways of doing things besides the Master’s way! For example-have you ever during Pleasure taken this-«he pointed toward his groin «-in your mouth?» He traced a line across her pink lips with his fingers. «It is also a way of giving Pleasure to a Whole One, and does not hurt you. The Whole Ones of the Master like to hurt, don’t they?» She nodded. «Then let us find out all the ways of Pleasure that do not hurt. What can the Master do or say about it, if he never finds out?» Again she nodded, and this time she bent forward on hands and knees and began inexpertly to work.
She was so inexpert and simultaneously so enthusiastic that Blade at one or two moments wondered if he was going to come out of this a Whole One. But she was so entirely at sea in this new realm of Pleasure without pain that he could guide her more or less as he chose, and was able to alternately warn her off and urge her on until he was fully aroused. Then he turned to arousing her.
He could not have handled her body more delicately if she had been one of the priceless pieces of carved-jade in his father’s collection, or a butterfly whose gaudy wings would crumble to dust at a hair’s too much pressure. Lips caressed cheeks, tongue licked out at earlobes and nipples, fingers ran up and down thigh muscles and probed gently around the dark mat of curly hair between her legs. He saw the fear fade from her eyes, surprise replace it, and then-and his own arousal increased at the sight-readiness and even eagerness. But it was not until he saw her lips begin to move in soundless pleading and heard her breath coming in short puffs that he gently eased her legs apart and himself into her.
Even then he lay quietly until the momentary spasm of uncertainty had passed from her face. Then he began a sure, slow, relaxed (but not too relaxed, he reminded himself!) stroking, feeling tremors go through her muscles as he did so. He fought back any urge to quicken his stroke, listening for every breath she gave out, every sound she made, as clues to her state of mind and body. When he heard her begin to urge him on, it was then that he quickened his stroke, feeling her approaching climax as fast as he was, then reach it at almost the same moment as he did. They lay intertwined for a long gentle moment afterward, then he rolled off her and lay down beside her, looking into her eyes. Her mouth sagged slackly open and her breath was coming in gasps that made it impossible for her to speak, but the look in her eyes said all he needed for the moment. He had revealed to her a whole new world, and as the man who had done so would have her allegiance to the death.
Which it might very well come to, he said to himself after she had risen, bathed with him in the tub, and gone out again. He had not asked her to do anything beyond telling the other Girls (in strict confidence, and warning them to keep silent in turn) about her experience, and hoping that the Girls would start to consider him a friend. Possibly some of them would actively seek to be sent to his chamber for Pleasure, and he could acquire a more direct hold over them in the same way he had done with Lora. That would be desirable. But it might also be risky. If the Ice Master noticed that his Girls were positively clamoring for Pleasure with Blade, his suspicions might well go into high gear. If he had not already bugged the chamber, he might do so now, or even worse, interrogate some of the Girls. If the interrogation revealed anything out of line, two or three of the Girls would no doubt be subjected to Unlimited Pleasure «to encourage the others» and whatever hold he might have or hope to develop over the rest would be smashed on the spot.
The same problem of risk to the Girls applied even more strongly to anything more than simple Pleasure sessions. He did not even know if they were familiar enough with the layout of the stronghold to tell him very much about it; he would have laid two years’ salary that their movements were too restricted: And no doubt any Girl found outside a restricted area was appropriately punished, so he could not with a clear conscience encourage them to do any spying.
But he was forgetting some rather basic points in his concern for the Girls! If he could lead the conversation around to their Pleasure sessions with the Whole Ones particularly the guards-he might find out where the guards were quartered, get some idea of how many there were, what routes they used to come and go, and so forth. Similarly, if any of them had ever been taken to the Ice Master’s quarters for giving him Pleasure (and Blade doubted that the Ice Master was so self-controlled as to keep the Girls entirely for the slaves and guards), they might well remember where those quarters were, how well guarded, and so on. He might build up quite a body of useful information without asking the Girls to take any risks, if he went about it right.
Chapter 16
The next morning, and for three more mornings after that, he was awakened by the arrival of a Girl sent to bring him Plea
sure. And with each one he followed the same pattern he had used with Lora, although with none of them did he have as much trouble establishing trust and confidence. Lora had been spreading the word. He hoped once more that she had not been spreading it too widely.
Before retiring that first night, he had made as thorough a search of the chamber as possible for any sort of bugging, and found nothing visible, let alone obvious. He was not yet particularly confident that the room was safe, of course, because any number of disguises were possible. He could not be sure of penetrating all of them, and could only penetrate a reasonable number by means of a search so thorough and obvious that it would tell the Ice Master exactly what he was looking for. He did not want to give the Ice Master the impression of too much distrust-just enough so that he would continue to keep Leyndt alive as a hoped-for hold over Blade.
And she was a hold over Blade. He was certainly unwilling to make any move that might endanger her-unless, he added as a mental reservation, the move stood a good chance of taking out the Ice Master and the Menel together. Even then, he knew that he might very easily balk at the thought of her being pounded to death beneath the lunging bodies of the guards or dissolved inch by inch by the solvents used in preparing the protein compounds for the Menel. He did not want her harmed, and had no objection to letting the Ice Master know it.
In fact, his concern for Leyndt brought him an unexpected dividend. In the course of entirely sincere inquiries about where she was and how she was, he was able to find out a tremendous amount about the workings of the Ice Master’s stronghold. None of them had seen Leyndt, it turned out, but in the process of telling Blade so they told him so much else that was useful that he was almost consoled for the lack of information about the doctor.
The black building in the center of the ice grid was the top of the stronghold, which was about eight hundred feet from top to bottom and had a cross section, as he guessed, about five hundred by four hundred. His own chamber was on the same level as the Ice Master’s, a little less than two-thirds of the way up. The Ice Master’s chambers covered about half of the whole level, and were divided into at least seven large rooms, all luxuriously furnished. In front there was another large room where the guards who protected the Ice Master slept.
