Iimmi and Snake cleared the crater rim first; then Urson and Geo joined them on the pitted ledge. Together they looked into the volcano as red and yellow light fell over their chests and faces.
Gold dribbled the internal slope. Tongues of red rock lapped the sides, and the swirling white basin belched brown blobs of smoke which rose up the far rocks and spilled over the brim a radion away. Light leapt in wavering pylons of blue flame, then sank back into the pit. Winding trails of light webbed the crater’s walls, and at places ebon cavities jeweled among the light.
Wind fingered the watchers’ hair.
* * * *
Iimmi saw her first, two hundred feet along the rim. Her drapes, died red and orange in the flame, blew about her as she walked toward them. Iimmi pointed to her, and the others looked up.
As she neared, Geo saw that though she stood very straight, she was old. Her short white hair snapped at the side of her head in the warm breeze. Firelight and shadow fell deeply into the wrinkles of her face. As she approached them, light running like liquid down the side of her winded robe, she smiled and held out her hand.
“Who are you?” Geo suddenly asked.
“Shadows melt in light of sacred laughter,
Hands and houses shall be one hereafter.”
recited the woman in a calm, low voice.
She paused. “I am Argo Incarnate, of Leptar.”
“But I thought…” Iimmi started.
“What did you think?” inquired the elderly woman, gently.
“Nothing,” said Iimmi.
“He thought you were a lot younger,” Urson said. “We’re supposed to take you home.” Suddenly he pointed in to the volcano. “Say, this isn’t any of that funny light like back in the city that burned our hands, only this time it made you old?”
She glanced at the pool of light. “This is natural fire,” she assured them, “a severed artery of the earth’s burning blood. But wounds are natural enough.”
Geo shifted his feet and rubbed his stump.
“We were supposed to take the younger sister of the present Argo Incarnate and return with her to Leptar,” Iimmi explained.
“There are many Argos,” smiled the woman. “The Goddess has many faces. You have seen quite a few since you arrived in this land.”
“I guess we have,” Urson said.
“Are you a prisoner of Hama?” asked Iimmi.
“I am with Hama,” said the woman.
“We are supposed to secure the third jewel and bring it back to the ship. We don’t have much time.… ”
“Yes,” said Argo.
“Hey, what about that nest of vampires down there,” Urson said, thumbing viciously toward the black behind them. “They said they worshiped Argo. What have you got to do with them? I don’t trust anything on this place very much.”
“The nature of the Goddess is change,” said the woman, looking sadly toward the slope, “from birth, through life, to death,” she looked back up at them, “to birth again. As I said, Argo has many faces. You must be very tired.”
“Yes,” said Geo.
“Then come with me. Please.” She turned, and began to walk back along the rim. Snake and Iimmi started after her, and then came Geo and Urson.
“I don’t like any of this,” the big man whispered to Geo as they came along. “Argo doesn’t mean the same thing in this land like she means on Leptar. There’s nothing but more evil to come out of this. She’s leading us into a trap, I tell you. I say the best thing to do is take the jewels we have, turn around, and get the hell out of here. I tell you, Geo.… ”
“Urson,” Geo said.
“Huh?” the big man asked.
“Urson, I’m very tired.”
They walked silently for a few steps more. Then Urson heaved up a half disgusted breath, and put his arm around Geo’s shoulder. “Come on,” he grunted, supporting Geo against his own great form as they progressed along the rocky ledge, following the new Argo.
At last she turned down a trail that dropped into the crater. “Walk carefully here,” she said as they turned into the huge pit.
“Something is not right,” Urson said softly. “It’s a trap I tell you. How does that thing go? I could use it now. Calmly brother bear…”
“Calm the winter sleep,
Fire shall not harm,”
continued Geo.
“Says who,” mumbled Urson glancing into the bowl of flame. Geo went on:
“water not alarm.
While the current grows,
amber honey flows,
golden salmon leap.”
“Like I once said before,” mused Urson, “In a…”
“In here,” came the voice of Argo. They turned into the dark mouth of one of the caves which pocked the crater’s inside wall. “No,” she said to Snake, who was about to use the jewels for illumination. “They have been used too much already.”
With a small stick taken from a pocket in her robe, she struck a flame against the rock, then raised it to an ornate, branching candelabra that hung from the stone ceiling by brass chains. Flame leapt from cast oil cup to oil cup, from the hand of a demon to a monkey’s mouth, from a nymph’s belly to the horns of a satyr’s head. Chemicals in the cups caused each flame to burn a different color; green, red, blue, and orange white light filled the small chapel and played across the tops of the benches. On the altar sitting on one side of the room were two statues of equal height: a man sitting, and a woman kneeling. Iimmi looked at the altar. Geo and Urson stared at the candelabra.
“What is it?” Iimmi asked when he saw where their eyes were fixed.
“There’s one of those things in Argo’s cabin on board the ship,” Geo said. “And look over there. Where did we see one of those before?” It was a machine with an opaque glass screen, identical to the one in the monastery of Argo.
“Sit down,” Argo said. “Sit down.”
They sank to the benches; the climb, once halted, knotting their calves and the low muscles on their backs.
“Hama has allowed you the privilege of a chapel even in captivity,” commented Iimmi, “but I see you have to share your altar with him.”
“But I am Hama’s mother,” smiled Argo.
Geo and Urson frowned.
“The rituals say that Argo is the mother of all things, the begetter and bearer of all life. I am the mother of all gods as well.”
“Those blind women down in the ground,” asked Urson, “they aren’t really your priestesses, are they? They wanted to kill us. I bet they were really dupes of Hama.”
“It isn’t so simple,” replied Argo. “They are really worshipers of Argo, but as I said, I have many faces. Death as well as life is my province. The dwellers in that convent from which you escaped are a—how shall I say, a degenerate branch of the religion. They were truly blinded by the fall of the City of New Hope. To them, Argo is only death, the dominator of men. For not only is Argo the mother of Hama, she is his wife and daughter.”
“Then it’s like we figured,” said Iimmi. “Jordde isn’t a spy for Hama. He’s working for the renegade priestesses of Argo.”
“Yes,” returned Argo, “except that renegade is perhaps the wrong word. They believe that their way is correct, and a respect for belief is essential to the understanding of Man. And it is through understanding that the mysteries that still remain in your mind will be solved.”
“Then they must be responsible for all that was going on in Leptar, only somehow blaming it on Hama,” said Iimmi. “They were probably just after the jewels, too. You don’t look like a prisoner. That must be the whole thing. You’re here in league with Hama to prevent the priestesses of Argo from taking over Leptar.”
“Nothing could be simpler,” said the Goddess. “Unfortunately you are wrong in nearly every other point.”
“But then why did Jordde throw the jewel after us when he tore it from Argo’s—I mean the other Argo’s throat?”
“When he snatched the jewel from around my
daughter’s neck,” added Argo, “he threw it to the creatures of the sea because he knew they would take it back to Aptor. With it once again in the island, the priestesses would have a better chance of getting it; my daughter, acting Argo Incarnate in my absence and her sister’s, does not know that what she is fighting is another face of Argo. As far as she is concerned, all her efforts are against the mischief Hama has caused, and truly caused, in Leptar. This ignorance is far greater than you imagine, for beyond these blind creatures is a far greater enemy that she must vanquish.”
“Hama…?” began Iimmi.
“Greater than Hama,” said old Argo. “It is herself. It is hard for me to watch her and not occasionally call out a word of guidance. With the science here in Aptor it would not be difficult. But I must refrain. I suppose she has actually done well. But there is so much more to do. She has directed you well, and assigned your tasks properly. And until now you have carried them out well.”
“She said we were to steal the final jewel from Hama and return with you to the ship,” said Geo. “Can you help us with either of these things?”
“The moment I compliment you,” laughed Argo, “you completely confuse your mission. Once the jewel is stolen, whom are you supposed to take back to Leptar?”
“Argo Incarnate,” Urson said.
“You said that Argo back in the ship was your daughter,” said Geo, “but she said you were her younger sister.”
“She said nothing of the sort,” Argo corrected. “I have two daughters. You have already met one. Now you must rescue the other. When my youngest daughter was…kidnaped here to Aptor, I was already here, waiting for her. Look.”
She turned a dial beneath the screen and lights flickered over the glass until they formed a sleeping figure. She had short red hair, a splash of freckles over a blunt nose, and her hand lay curled in a loose fist near her mouth. A white sheet covered the gentle push of adolescent breasts, and on the table beside her bed was a contraption made of a U-shaped piece of metal mounted on a board, an incomplete coil of wire, and a few more bits of metal, all sitting on top of a crumpled paper bag.
“That is my youngest daughter,” Argo said, switching off the picture. “She is the one you must take back to the ship.”
“How shall we steal the jewel?” asked Geo.
Argo turned to Snake. “I believe that was your task.” Then she looked around at the other three. “You will need rest. After that you can see about the jewel and my daughter. Come with me, now. Pallets have been set up for you in the far room where you may sleep.” She rose and led them to a further chamber. The blankets over the loose boughs seemed to pull them down. Argo pointed to a trickle of water that ran from a basin carved in the rock wall. “This stream is pure. You may drink from it.” She pointed to a cloth sack in the corner. “There is fruit in there if you become hungry.”
“Sleep!” said Urson, jammed his two fists in the air, and yawned.
As they settled, Argo said, “Poet?”
“Yes?” answered Geo.
“I know you are the tiredest, but I must talk to you alone for a moment or two.”
As Geo raised himself, Urson stood up too. “Look,” he said to Argo, “he needs the rest more than any of us. If you want to question him about rituals and spells, take Iimmi. He knows just as much as Geo.”
“I need a poet,” smiled Argo, “not a student. I need one who has suffered as he has. Come.”
“Wait,” Urson said. He picked the jewel from Geo’s chest where Snake had returned it when they entered the chapel. “You better leave this with me.”
Geo frowned.
“It still may be a trap,” said Urson.
“Leave it with him,” suggested Argo, “if it eases him.”
Geo let the great hand lift the thong from his neck.
“Now come with me,” said Argo.
They left the room and walked back through the chapel to the door. Argo stood in the entrance, looking down at the molten rock. The light sifted through her robe, leaving the darker outline of her body. Without turning, she began to speak. “The fire is a splendid symbol for life, do you agree?”
“And for death,” said Geo. “One of Aptor’s fires burned my arm away.”
“Yes,” she turned now. “You and Snake have had the hardest time. Both of you have left your flesh to rot in Aptor. I guess that gives you a closeness to the land.” She paused. “You know, he had a great deal more pain than you. Do you know how he lost his tongue? I watched it all from this same screen inside the chapel, and could not help. They jammed their knuckles in his jaws and when the mouth came open, Jordde caught the red flesh with pincers that closed all the way through, and stretched it out as far as it would go. Then he looped the tongue with a thin wire, and then he threw a switch. You do not know what electricity is, do you?”
“I have heard the word.”
“Let me just say that when a great deal of it is passed through a thin wire, the wire becomes very hot, white hot. And the white hot loop was tautened until the rope of muscle seared away and just the roasted stump was left. But the child had fainted already. I wonder if the young can really bear more pain than older people.”
“Jordde and the blind priestess did that to him?”
“Jordde and some men on the boat that picked up the two of them from the raft on which they had left Aptor.”
“Who is Jordde?” Geo asked. “Urson knew him before this as a first mate. But Urson’s story told me nothing.”
“I know the story,” Argo said, “and it tells you something, but something you would perhaps rather not know.” She sighed. “Poet, how well do you know yourself?”
“What do you mean?” Geo asked.
“How well do you know the workings of a man, how he manages to function? That is what you will sing of if your songs are to become great.”
“I still don’t…”
“I have a question for you, a poetic riddle. Will you try to answer it?”
“If you will answer a not too poetic riddle for me.”
“Will you do your best to answer mine?” Argo asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I will do my best to answer yours. What is your question?”
“Who is Jordde and why is he doing what he’s doing?”
“He was at one time,” Argo explained, “a very promising novice for the priesthood of Argo in Leptar, as well as a scholar of myths and rituals like Iimmi and yourself. He also took to the sea to learn of the world, but his boat was wrecked, and he and a few others were cast on Aptor’s shore. They strove with Aptor’s terrors as you did, and many succumbed. Two, however, a four-armed cabin boy whom you call Snake, and Jordde were each exposed to the forces of Argo and Hama as you have been. One, in his strangeness, could see into men’s minds. The other could not. Silently, one swore allegiance to one force, while one swore allegiance to the other. The second part of your question was why. Perhaps if you can answer my riddle, you can answer that part yourself. I do know that they were the only two who escaped. I do know that Snake would not tell Jordde his choice, and that Jordde tried to convince the child to follow him. When they were rescued, I know that the argument continued, and that Snake held back with childish tenacity both his decision and his ability to read minds, even under the hot wire and the pincers. The hot wire, incidentally, was something Jordde brought with him from the blind priestesses, according to him, to help the people of Leptar with. It could have been a great use. But recently all he has done with the electricity is construct a larger weapon with it. However, Jordde became a staunch first mate in a year’s time. Snake became a waterfront thief. Both waited. Then, when the opportunity arose, both acted. Why? Perhaps you can tell me, poet.”
“Thank you for telling me what you know,” Geo said. “What is your question?”
She glanced at the flame through the door once more and then recited:
“By the dark chamber sits its twin,
where the body’s floods begin;
and the two are twinned again,
turning out and turning in.
“In the bright chamber runs the line
of the division, silver, fine,
diminishing along the lanes
of memory to an inward sign.
“Fear floods in the turning room;
Love breaks in the burning dome.”
“It is not one that I have heard before,” Geo said. “I’m not even sure I know what the question is. I’m familiar with neither its diction nor style.”
“I doubted very much that you would recognize it,” smiled Argo.
“Is it part of the pre-purge rituals of Argo?”
“It was written by my youngest daughter,” Argo said. “The question is, can you explain it?”
“Oh,” said Geo. “I didn’t realize.… ” He paused. “By the dark chamber sits its twin, moving in and out; and that’s where the floods of the body begin. And it’s twinned again. The heart?” he suggested. “The four-chambered human heart? That’s where the body’s flood begins.”
“I think that will do for part of the answer.”
“The bright chamber,” mused Geo. “The burning dome. The human mind, I guess. The line of division, running down the lane of memory—I’m not sure.”
“You seem to be doing fairly well.”
“Could it refer to something like ‘the two sides of every question’?” Geo asked. “Or something similar?”
“It could,” Argo said, “though I must confess I hadn’t thought of it in that way. But it is the last two lines that puzzle me.”
“Fear floods in the turning room,” repeated Geo; “Love breaks in the burning dome. I guess that’s the mind and the heart again. You usually think of love with the heart, and fear with the mind. Maybe she meant that they both, the heart and the mind, have control over both love and fear.”
“Perhaps she did,” Argo smiled. “You must ask her—when you rescue her from the clutches of Hama.”
Before turning back to the room with his companions, he looked once more out at the fires of the volcano. Light whirled white and red. Blue tongues licked at black rock siding. He turned away now and went back into the darkness.
CHAPTER X
The Sixth Science Fiction Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Science Fiction Stories Page 63
