Avon Science Fiction Reader 2

by Unknown Author

  Hendricks, still hiding his face from us, bent over Liane and whispered something in her ear; she caressed his arm softly, and shook her head. Hendricks leaned more heavily against the throne, shuddering.

  Slowly, me flame was dying, until we could see that it was not a solid pillar of fire, but a hollow circle of flame, fed by innumerable jets set at the base of a circle of trifle more than the length of a man across.

  Into those deadly circles the condemned man was led. His legs were bound swiftly, so that he could not move, and the old man stepped back quickly.

  As though his movement had been a signal, the flames shot up with a roar, until they lost themselves far over our beads. As one man, the three of us started forward, but the guards hemmed us in instantly.

  “Fools!” cried Liane. “Be still! The power of Liane is absolute here.”

  We stared, fascinated, at the terrible sight. The flame spouted, streaks of blue and yellow streaking up from its base. Mercifully, we could not see within that encircling wall of fire.

  Slowly, the flame died down again. A trap door opened in the circle, and some formless thing dropped out of sight. Liane questioned the old man again, her eyes resting upon the other prisoner. The old man answered briefly.

  “This one spoke against the power of Liane,” she explained smilingly, “He said Liane was cruel; that she was selfish. He also must feel the embrace of the sacred Flame.”

  I heard, rather than saw, the ghastly drama repeated, for I had bent my head, and would not look up. Liane was no woman; she was a fiend. And yet for her a trusted officer, a friend, had forsworn his service and his comrades. I wondered, as I stood there with bowed bead, what were the thoughts which must have been passing through Hendricks’ mind.

  “You fear to look upon the punishment of Liane?” the voice of the unholy priestess broke in upon my shuddering reverie. “Then you understand why her power is absolute; why she is Mother of Life, and Giver of Death, throughout all Lakos. And now for the word I promised you, a gracious word from one who could be terrible and not gracious,, were that her whim.

  “It has been in the mind of Liane to extend her power, to make for herself a, place in this Supreme Council of which you speak, with so much awe and reverence, Commander Hanson. But by happenchance, another whim has seized her.”

  Liane looked up at Hendricks, smilingly, and took one of his hands’ in, hers. It was wonderful how her face softened as he returned, fiercely, the pressure of her soft hands.

  “I know it will sound Strange to your ears,” she said in a Voice almost tender, “but Liane is, after all, a woman, with many, if not all, a woman s many weaknesses. And while even in his presence Liane will say that her lover was at the beginning looked upon as no more than a tool which might further Liane’s power, he has won now a place in her heart.”

  I saw Hendricks tremble as she admitted her love, and that portion of his face which we could see flushed hotly.

  “And so, Liane has elected to give up, at least for the present, the place in the Council which she could command. For after all, that would be a remote power, lacking in the elements of physical power which Liane has over these, her people, and in which she has learned to delight.

  “So, Commander Hanson, bear to your superiors this word: Liane will permit a production of whatever reasonable amount of temite is desired. She will remain here with her consort, brooking no interference, no changes, no commands from any person- or organization. Go, now, and take with you the words of Liane!”

  I looked up at her gravely, and shook my head,

  ‘“We shall go,” I said, “and we shall take with us your words. But I warn you that the words you have spoken are treason to the universe, in that you have defied the Council!”

  Liane leaped from her throne, her scarlet lips drawn back against her white and gleaming teeth. Her eyes, dilated with anger, blazed, down upon us almost as hotly as the flame which rose behind her.

  “Go! And quickly!” she fairly screamed. “If you have no desire to feel the embrace of file sacred Flame, then go!”

  I bowed silently, and motioned. Correy and Kincaide. Swiftly, we made our way down a long aisle, surrounded by motionless figures staring unwinkingly at the column of fire, toward the door by which we had entered this great chamber.

  Behind us, I could hear Liane’s clear voice lifted in her own guttural language, as she addressed the multitude.

  Safely within the Ertak, we discussed the morning’s adventure over a late luncheon,

  “I suppose,” Said Kincaide, “there’s nothing left to do but tell Fetter as much as seems wise, to reassure him, and then return, to Base to make our report.”

  “Well come back, if we do,” growled Correy. “And well come back to fight. The Council won’t stand for her attitude.”

  “Undoubtedly that’s true,” I admitted, “Still, I believe we should put it up to Base, and through Base to the Council, before doing anything more:. Much, if not all, of what she said was perfectly true.” -

  “It was that,” nodded Kincaide. “There were scores, if not hundreds of doors leading into that big chamber; I imagine it can be reached, underground, from any point on the continent. And those winding passages would be simple to defend front any form of invasion.”

  “But could these Uakonians fight?” asked Correy. “That’s what- I’d like to know. I doubt it. They look like a sleepy, ignorant lot.”

  “I think they’d fight, to Lite death, if Liane ordered them to,” I replied thoughtfully. “Did you notice the way they stared at the flame, never moving, never even winking? My idea is that it exercises a sort of auto-hypnotic influence over them, which gives Liane-just the right opportunity to. impress her will upon them.”

  “I wondered about that,” Kiticaide commented. ;‘I believe you’re right, sir. Any idea as to when we’ll shove off?”

  “There’s no particular hurry; Fetter will be busy until evening, I imagine, so we. won’t bother hint until them. As soon as we’ve had a chat with him, we can start.”

  ‘‘And without Hendricks,” said Kincaide, shaking his head sadly. “I wonder—”

  “If you don’t mind, Mr. Kincaide, we won’t mention his name on the Ertak after this,” I interrupted. “I, for one, Would rather forget him. Wouldn’t you?”

  “I would, sir, if I could,said Kincaide softly. “But that’s not easy, is it?” It wasn’t easy, As a matter of fact, it was impossible. I knew I would never forget my picture of him, standing there shaken and miserable, beside the woman for whom he had disgraced his Uniform, hiding his head in shame from the eyes of the men he had called comrades, and who had called, him friend. But to talk of him was morbid,

  It was late ‘n the afternoon when I called Correy and Kincaide to the navigating room, where I had spent several hours charting our return course.

  “I believe, gentlemen,” I remarked, “that we can call on Mr. Fetter now. I’M ask you to remain in charge: of the ship, Mr. Kincaide, while Mr. Correv and I—”

  An attention signal sounded sharply to interrupt me, I answered It instantly.

  “Sentry at exit, sir,” said an-excited voice. “Mr. Hendricks and the woman stowaway are here asking for you. They say it is very urgent.”

  “Bring them both here at once, under guard,” I ordered, “Be sure you are properly relieved.”

  “Right, sir!”

  I turned to Correy and Kincaide, who were watching me with curious eyes. My excitement must have shown upon my face.

  “Mr. Hendricks and Liane are at the exit, asking to see me.” I snapped, “They’ll be here in a moment. What do you suppose is in the air?”

  “Hendricks?” muttered Correy, his face darkening. “It seems to. me he has a lot of nerve to—”

  There was a sharp tap on the door,

  “Come!” I ordered quickly. The door opened and Liane, followed by Hendricks, hurried into the room.

  “That will do,” I nodded to the guard who had accompanied them. “Your />
  may go,” .

  “You wonder why we’re here, I suppose?” demanded Liane. I’ll tell you, quickly, for every instant is precious.”

  This was a very different Liane. She was no longer clad in diaphanous black; she wras wearing a tunic similar to the one she had worn on board the Ertak, save that this one Was torn and soiled. Her lips, as she talked, twitched with an insane anger; her amazing eyes were like those of a cornered beast of the wilderness.

  “My council of wise old men turned against me when I told them my plans to marry the man of my choice. They said he was an outsider, an enemy, a foreigner. They would have none of him. They demanded that I; give him to the Flame, and marry one of my Own kind. They had not, of course, understood what I had said to you there in the great chapel of the Flame.

  “I defied them. We escaped through a passage which is not known to any save myself, and the existence of which my father taught me years ago. We are here, but they will guess where we have gone. My old men are exciting my people against me—and for that shall all, down to the last one, know the embrace of the Flame!” She gritted her teeth on the Words, her nostrils distended with rage.

  “I—I am safe. I can command them; X cart make them know my power, and I shall. The Flame will have much to feed upon in the days which are to come, I promise you. But my beloved would not be safe; at this moment I cannot protect him. So I have brought him back. I—I know he … . . but I will not be weak. I am Liane!”

  She faced Hendricks, who had stood there like a graven image, watching her. Her arms went about his neck; her lips sought his,

  “My beloved!” she whispered. “Liane was but a woman, after all. Darling! Good-by!” She kissed him again, and hurried to the door.

  “One more thing!” she cried. “I must master them myself. I must show them I—I, Liane—am ruler here. You promise? You promise me you will not interfere; that you will do nothing?”

  “But—” .

  Liane interrupted me before I could put my objections into words.

  “Promise!” she commanded. “There are hundreds, thousands of them! You cannot slay them all—and if you did, there would be more, I can bend them to my will; they know my power. Promise, or there will be many deaths upon your hands.”

  “I promise,” I said.

  “And you—all of you?” she demanded, sweeping Correy and Kincaide With her eyes.

  “Commander Hanson speaks for us all,” nodded Kincaide.

  With a last glance at Hendricks, whose eyes had never left her for all instant, she was gone.

  Hendricks uttered a long, quivering sigh. His face, as he turned to us, was. ghastly white.

  “She’s gone,” he muttered, “Forever.”

  “That’s exceedingly unfortunate, sir, for you,” I replied crisply, “As soon as it’s perfectly safe, we’ll see to it that you depart also.”’

  The sting of my words apparently did not touch him.

  “You don’t understand,” he said dully. 1 know what you think, and I do not blame you. She came back; you know that.

  “ ‘You are coming with me,’ she said. ‘I care for you. I want you. You are Coming with me, at once.’ I told her I was not; that I loved her, but that I Could not, would not, go.

  “She opened a port and showed me one of her countrymen, standing not far away, watching the ship. He held something in his hand.

  “ ‘He has one of your hand bombs,’ she told me. ‘I found it while I was hidden, and took it with me when I left. If you do not come with me, he will throw it against the ship, destroy it, and those within it.’

  “There was nothing else for me to do. She permitted me to explain no more than I did in the note I left. I pleaded with her; did all I could. Finally I persuaded her to give you the word she did, there before the great flame.

  “She brought me back here at the risk of her own life, and, what is even more precious to her, her power. In—in her own way, she loves me. , . .”

  It was an amazing story; a Second or two passed before any of us could speak. And then words came, fast and joyous; our friend, our trusted fellow-officer had come back to us! I felt as though a great black cloud had slid from across the sun,

  And then, above our voices, rose a great mutter of sound. We glanced at one another, wonderingly. Hendricks was the first to make a move.

  “That’s the mob!” he said, darting toward the door. We followed him swiftly to the exit of the ship, through the air-lock, out into the open,

  Hendricks had spoken the truth. Liane was walking, very slowly and deliberately, her head flung back proudly, toward the city. Coming toward her, like a great ragged wave, was a mighty mass of humanity, led by capering old men—undoubtedly the lesser priests, who had turned against her.

  “The portable projectors, sir!” begged Correy excitedly. “A pair of them, and that mob—”

  “We’re bound by our promise,” I reminded him, “She’s: not afraid; her power is terrible. I believe she’ll win without them. Look!”

  Liane had paused. She lifted one hand in a gesture of command, and called out to the rabble. Correy translated the whole thing for me later.

  “Halt!” she cried sharply. “Who moves upon the Chief Priestess of the Flame earns the embrace of the Flame!”

  The crowd halted, cowering; then the old men shouted to them and gestured them onward. With a rush, the front ranks came on.

  “So!” Liane called out to them. “You would disobey Liane? Yet even yet it is not too late; Liane gives you one chance more. You little know the Chief Priestess of the Flame if you think she will tolerate an encroachment of her power. Back! Back, I say, or you all shall feel the might of Liane!”

  Before her tirade the mob faltered, but again the crazed old men led them on.

  Liane turned, saw us, and made a regal gesture of farewell. From the bosom of her tunic she snatched a small black object, and swung it high above her head,

  “The bomb!” shouted Hendricks. “She has it; she--”

  At the very feet of the onrushing crowd the black object struck. There was a hollow roar; a blast of thundering air swept us backward to the ground.

  When we scrambled to our feet, Liane was gone. The relentless mob had gone. Where they had been was a great crater of raw earth, strewn with ghastly fragments. Far back toward the city a few straggling figures rag frantically away from that scene of death.

  “Gone!” I said. “Power was a mania, an obsession With her. Even her death was a supreme gesture—of power, of authority.”

  “Liane,” Hendricks whispered. “Chief Priestess of the Flame. , » , Giver of Death, …”

  With Liane gone, and with her the old men who had tried to snatch her power from her hand, and who might have caused us trouble, the rebellion of the Lakonians was at an end.

  Leaderless, they were helpless, and I believe they were happy in the change. Sometimes the old ways are better than the new, and Liane’s regime had been merciless and rather terrible,

  There are many kinds of women: great women, and women with small souls; women filled with the spirit of sacrifice; selfish women, good women and bad.

  And Liane? I leave her for you to judge. She Was a woman; classify her for yourself.

  After all, I am an old man, and perhaps I have forgotten the ways of women. I do not wish to judge, on one hand to be called bitter and hard, on the other hand to be condemned as soft with advancing age.

  I have given you the story of Liane, Chief Priestess of the Flame.

  How, you clever and infallible members of this present generation, do you judge her?

  The Whisperers

  by Donald Wundrei

  We are So preoccupied today with man-made troubles that me tend to forget that the greatest scourges of history have not been acts of man but acts of nature. Crop failures, floods, and earthquakes have accounted for greater numbers than bombs and bayonets, but greatest by far have been plagues. The human race has a habit of forgetting these things We prefer t
o devote our history books its mainly to the disasters of our own making, relegating the devastations of the Black Plague and its kin to short paragraphs. In spite of modern developments, there is nothing at all impossible about future visitations of that sort. In Donald Wandrei’s story you may be, reminded of what it must have felt to have lived in such periods … and his denouement is startling.

  IT IS doubtful whether anything in the annals of medicine or the history of mankind made a deeper impression than “The Whisperers”’ though there may have been deadlier diseases or more repulsive scourges in the far past. Great plagues swept Europe in the Middle Ages and. depopulated whole countries. They ran their virulent course through months or years, claimed millions of lives, and left an indelible memory in such writings as Defoe’s “journal of the Plague Year” and Boccaccio’s introduction to the “Decameron.”

  Bubonic plague, yellow fever, malaria, typhus, and other epidemic diseases have raced with a fury more destructive than war through the Far East and the tropics, through civilized peoples and savages, during ancient times and modern. Appalling though these pestilences were, they lacked the peculiarly frightening quality that distinguished The Whisperers.

  In the Bibulous years of Atlantis, or the prehistoric existence of Mu, it is possible that some now-forgotten malady imperiled the race. It is even possible that in the dawn of time, the priests of Lemuria, in an effort to preserve their continent from impending doom, consulted the Archaontic Symbols, those mysterious petroglyphs which are said to have summarized all conceivable life forms.

  It is within the. limits of credence that some weird fate may have overwhelmed Mayan culture, or brought oblivion to the race whose existence, is known only by the sculptures on Easter Island. But history affords no parallel to The Whisperers; and neither history nor legend presents more than the vague speculation that any affliction as strange as The Whisperers ever before entered human lite.

  Historians writing in this,, the Twenty-first Century, can recall the appearance of The Whisperers with greater understanding hut no less alarm than the general public. The scientists of the Twentieth Century had made vast strides toward extending the boundaries of knowledge, and toward solving the ultimate secrets of space, matter, and life. Their theoretical and experimental work was disseminated through the press, but doubtless received less attention than sensational murders or economic conditions, Scientists were, prepared to investigate, analyze, and combat the mystery of The Whisperers; but in this case, the explanation caused as much alarm as The Whisperers themselves.