Secret of Spring

by Piers Anthony

  “We have not stopped. It has stopped us. The heat jet must have dislodged some larger ice fragments and one is blocking our path through the glacier.”

  “Great. Could we get out and slide the boat over it?” Herb asked.

  “Not advisable. This vessel has a heated flooring. The temperature of this ice and water are far below anything we could survive. One step outside and you would surely lose a limb,” Cling Ling warned.

  “We can’t just sit here. Heated bottom or not, we’d freeze to death soon.”

  “I must agree with you, Mistress Moon,” Cling Ling said.

  “We have to do something,” Herb said. “Call the Txnghc. Maybe he can help us.”

  “Regretfully, I have tried to alert the ship of our predicament without success. I fear the instruments have frozen.”

  “Wait,” Spring said. “I hear something. Maybe he’s seen us anyway. Maybe he’s coming out to get us.”

  “I hear it, too,” Herb said. “Funny, it doesn’t sound like another dinghy motor. It’s more of a—crunching sound.”

  “You’re right. Like something breaking off chunks of ice. Crunch—crunch,” Spring said puzzled.

  The snow fall had noticeably abated while they discussed the mystery sound, which was getting considerably closer. Spring turned to look out the back of the small craft and screamed.

  It was definitely a screaming situation, Herb agreed as he saw the source of the loud noise.

  “Ice Eater,” Cling Ling gasped. “Hit the deck,” he yelled, as the gigantic jaws of the huge monster loomed above them.

  Herb pulled Spring down and fell prone across her. If they were doomed to be eaten by the horrific beast, at least they would meet their fate together. He felt the small craft rise up on a giant wave and then plunge flatly down into the water, splashing them with liquid so cold, it seemed to burn through their foil clothing. Then, all was calm.

  “We’re alive,” breathed Herb through chattering teeth, as he helped Spring up from the floor of the dinghy. Cling Ling was working the controls and announced they were moving again. As they watched, the monster ploughed straight ahead. If he kept to his course, he would pass directly by the ship. Cling guided the dinghy straight down the wide path made by the monster. They would soon be safely aboard.

  “But why didn’t he eat us?” asked Spring, basking in the warmth of the ship’s compartment. Herb basked in the warmth of Spring. He was still shaking inside from their close call.

  “It was an Ice Eater,” Cling Ling explained. “There was never any danger of its devouring us intentionally, as its sole diet is ice. But if it had capsized our craft, which it nearly did by swimming so close, we would now be resting in an icy grave. Fortunately, that did not happen.”

  Cling Ling had given the information about Snowball’s HOTS situation to the Txnghc pilot to relay to the authorities. It was useless to tell their diplomat friend since he would soon become a new person, returning to his proper place in time with the next warp. As would they all, it was to be devoutly hoped.

  Herb could hardly believe it, but the warp was successful and they had connected with the illusive point which restored all to a present reality. They had reached Kamalot, Zygote’s private moon.

  Per instructions, the Txnghc pilot navigated to a secluded spot near a dense forest for touch down. The Vinese had been correct. The ship was fast, the pilot proficient. The only real danger was that the ship might have fallen apart. It had certainly been through a rough time lately. The Txnghc seemed unconcerned, however, and bidding them a fond farewell—for doubtless he was used to far more peaceful flights—he lifted off in a red blur toward the distant stars.

  Herb had mixed feelings. While he didn’t relish being stranded on some alien, artificial planet, neither had he the stomach for stepping foot in that rattle trap ship again. He stood staring forlornly into the silent forest. He was so tired. How could he go on? Spring joined him and took his hand in hers. Suddenly, he knew he would, even if he didn’t know how.

  21

  Inner Struggle/Outward Bruises

  The magician undoubtedly has some transportation at his disposal. For all his power, I doubt he can jump from planet to planet on his own,” Cling Ling said.

  “Don’t ever underestimate him,” Spring warned. “He’s an unscrupulous viper, but a fair magician. This whole world is his handiwork, remember.”

  “In any case, our Txnghc friend could not wait. He had to return home to complete his transformation in safety. Mistress Moon, you are the most familiar with this world. Where do you think Zygote would take Miss Lily to—to interrogate her?”

  “Cling, I’ve heard only secondhand stories. Zygote spoke more to my father than me, and I avoided him whenever possible. I only know he lives in a huge castle, but as to where it’s located—” She shrugged. “But I would assume he would take her there.”

  “But, we’ll still be too late!” Herb cried. “If we don’t even know where she is, how can we possibly save her now?”

  “Because we shall find this castle,” Cling Ling said calmly, “and be there when she arrives.”

  “When?” both Spring and Herb asked in astonished confusion.

  “But—but—I thought she was here,” Herb exclaimed.

  “You forget the last timewarp. Due to our pilot’s own personal problem, he had to back up, so we are here earlier than we would originally have landed,” Cling Ling explained. “He needs the time to complete his journey home. This is to our advantage. It gives us needed time to locate Zygote and plan our rescue.” While Herb and Spring were left to mull these things over, he decided to scout the area.

  The two found a hidden spot at the edge of the forest to wait for Cling Ling. They both had so much to think about now that they were actually here. Herb leaned against the wide trunk of a huge oak, while Spring sat cross legged on the ground upon a bed of colored leaves, examining some tiny purple flowers peeping through.

  Herb felt at a disadvantage. Cling Ling knew so much more of the ways of the universe than Herb did from his studies and his Vision Plays. Even Spring was a seasoned space traveller. Right now, the ordinary family life of an ivy covered cottage sounded wonderful to him.

  Lily was the obvious choice. They were the same kind, they shared a common culture and outlook, and they had grown up from the same roots. It was a natural union.

  Spring, on the other hand, was a woman of the universe. She could never thrive in the quiet surroundings of Paradise while the grass grew greener elsewhere. They were from two different worlds: his a peaceful, green, pastoral one; hers a teeming city life, full of magicians, fast cars, and scientific wonders. With her botanical background, she would plant a name for herself, of that he was certain.

  “Why are you staring at me that way?” Spring asked, perplexed by his intense gaze.

  “What? I must have been lost in thought. About Lily,” he lied.

  “I understand,” Spring said quietly. “I was thinking about my father. And Zygote,” she added with hatred. “Now that I’m here, there are so many plans to make, and—” There was a loud rustling sound from the bushes behind them. “Oh, here comes Cling.”

  “That was a short trip,” Herb said as he turned expectantly to see his Vinese friend. “Find anything?”

  “Yeah. We found us two little green men from Mars. Right, Charlie?”

  That was spoken by one of two rough looking characters seated on horseback. Herb stared up in surprise while Spring recoiled from their unsavory appearance. She could be mistaken, but they looked like trouble. Maybe more than the two of them could handle.

  “You apologize to that there lady, Samuel,” laughed the other one. “She might be green, but she sure ain’t no man.” His eyes crawled across her body like lice. There was no misunderstanding that evil look.

  “Herb,” Spring said nervously, moving close beside him, “I—”

  “You her man?” Samuel asked, and snorted derisively. He had discolored teeth and scraggly
whiskers.

  “We are—together. What do you want from us?” Herb asked with more bravado than he felt. He hoped Cling Ling would be back soon.

  “What do I want?” Samuel said with a dreamy look. “Oh, just what every man wants. A big, fine, castle with lots of buxom wenches to pass my time ’o day. And gold. Lots and lots of gold. You can’t keep fancy ladies without the gold, my friend. And, say. That brings us to the business at hand betwixt you and me, lad. Hand over ’yer booty.”

  “Booty?” Herb asked, swallowing.

  “He means money. Valuables. They’re outlaws.” Spring glared. “And I don’t think they’re part of Robin Hood’s merry band.”

  Charlie gave a hoot and slapped his knee. “Robin Hood? Why, that’s just what we are. We take from the rich and give to poor us.” He laughed at his own joke, drool oozing from one side of his mouth.

  Spring wrinkled her nose in disgust. These oafs stank, too.

  “But we have no merrygolds,” Herb protested.

  “Guess that means he don’t have no money, Sam,” Charlie said in mock surprise.

  “Well,” Samuel said, scratching his filthy beard, “if they don’t have it, we can’t get it.”

  “What we going to do now, Samuel?” Charlie asked with exaggerated earnestness.

  “If they don’t have money, guess we just have to take something else,” Samuel answered brightly, leering at Spring.

  “That is a sure ’nuff fine idea,” Charlie agreed, dismounting and moving toward her with undisguised lust.

  “No!” Herb said, angrily, suddenly understanding their confusing conversation. Were all offworlders animals? No one was going to molest Spring. Leaping for Charlie, he took him off guard and wrestled him to the dirt.

  The larger Charlie recovered quickly, and slammed a fist through Herb’s middle, sending him rolling to the side in pain. But it didn’t matter; he had to protect Spring.

  Before Herb had reached his feet, Charlie grabbed him at the collar and followed with a right cross to his chin. Herb went down in a sprawling heap, head reeling from the explosion.

  Spring flew to his side, cautiously examining his jaw. It was bloody, but no teeth were lost. He would surely have a fat lip for several days to come, though.

  Charlie looked up at his companion who hadn’t stirred an inch from his saddle during the fight. “You didn’t help me a bit, Sam,” he said in a hurt tone, rubbing his fist. “Just look how he got my duds all dusty, too.” He made a big display of brushing himself off.

  “Never mind. You’re a working gentleman. And still a handsome fellow, ain’t he, gal? That little greenie was spunkier than he looked,” he said to Spring, as if paying her a compliment.

  Charlie grunted. “I don’t like spunk.” He lifted his boot and shoved Herb over.

  “Leave him alone,” Spring snapped, finding her courage. “Haven’t you done enough to him? Go away. We don’t have anything for you.” She cradled Herb in her arms.

  “Aw, I can’t agree with that. You’re a fine looking filly,” Charlie said. “We goin’ to have us a good time.” He grabbed her and dragged her squirming and kicking back to his mount.

  Herb’s dizziness was finally subsiding. Looking through aching eyes, he spied one of the bandits manhandling Spring, to get her onto his horse. He felt desperately about in the dirt and finally found his weapon, a large jagged rock.

  Herb drew back and aimed, but something shoved at him just as he let the missile fly, causing it to fall short. Sam had run his horse against him, spoiling the throw.

  Now Charlie was angry. The rock had missed his head, true, but ploughed cruelly into his shoulder blade. He released Spring and turned for Herb, his whole arm swinging to connect for a sound blow to the belly. Herb went down, tried to rise, then collapsed face first in the dirt.

  Charlie reached down and shoved Herb’s face into the soil, cursing.

  “Stop it, you slime,” Spring screamed, leaping on his back to beat fruitlessly. It was like pounding steel with a feather. She couldn’t make a dent.

  Samuel rode over to peel her off Charlie and held her at arm’s length, where she struggled helplessly. He called to Charlie. “No sense beating a dead horse,” he said, giving Spring a shake.

  “He ain’t dead. Yet,” Charlie growled.

  “We better make tracks out of here. All this ruckus might have roused some of their friends. They thought we was somebody else when we found them,” Samuel reminded him.

  “Well, I ain’t goin’ empty handed,” Charlie said, looking at Spring. He was beginning to drool again.

  “Never said we was. Here, strap this wildcat to your saddle. My arm’s gettin’ tired from tusslin’ with her.”

  Charlie hauled Spring up and flopped her onto her stomach. Her head was facing downward, and her legs dangled off the other side. After tying her wrists together, he mounted behind her and slapped her bottom. The final indignity! When Spring tried to bite Charlie’s leg, he pulled off his dirty bandanna and crammed it into her mouth. She gagged, but ceased struggling. They were just too strong for her.

  Satisfied, Samuel kicked his mount and galloped off. Charlie and Spring trotted close behind.

  Herb came to just as the cloud of dust was settling around him. His eyes were dull with despair. They had taken Spring! He had let her down when she needed him most.

  “Spring,” he called weakly, falling back to his knees. He had to find her! His head flashed with yellow pain, and then the darkness came again.

  “Herb?” Cling Ling said. “Can you hear me?”

  Herb felt the cool wetness run over his face, his tongue hungrily swallowing the water. He opened his eyes. Oh, they hurt. He looked into the concerned foliage of Cling Ling’s bushy face, and took more water. Now he remembered.

  “Cling,” he said thickly through swollen lips. “They took her. Spring.”

  “I saw them riding away just as I came back, but I had to attend you first. I don’t think any limbs are broken. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been run through a lawn mower. But forget about me. Go after them, Cling! Find Spring!”

  “They cannot get far,” Cling Ling said confidently. “At the risk of immodesty, I remind you it is doubtful a mere horse could outdistance a Vinese at full roll. They shall not harm our Mistress Moon.” He rolled off with all the speed a Vinese could muster, which was considerable.

  Herb pulled himself up against a tree trunk and gulped down a few more swallows of the water Cling Ling had brought him. Luckily, they had taken canteens and rations from the Txnghc’s ship. Herb washed down a nutrition pellet from his pocket. He had to recover his strength and follow Cling.

  For now, all he could do was wait. His head was too unsteady to allow him to stand. He had to believe Cling Ling would find them, and stop them from—

  The Founder! he swore mentally. Could they have been sent by Zygote? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Zygote might lose his precious Secret after all. Herb wouldn’t cry about that, but about Spring. To have to submit to those filthy—At least Zygote was only interested in her from a scientific viewpoint, but who knew what those two might do!

  This could never happen on P#23. Maybe he could persuade her to come back with him, just as a friend, and stay for a while. Surely Lily wouldn’t mind that. Not after all that had happened. No. That was crazy. After all this was over, he would never see Spring again, and that was for the best. For everyone.

  Meanwhile, the horsemen had not gone far before they came to the stream where Cling Ling had filled their canteens earlier. Samuel set up camp while Charlie watered the horses. Spring was tied to a tree limb at the edge of a wooded area. Every now and then, Charlie would call back to her, describing what he intended to do with her after he had some “grub.”

  One sleeve of the floral dress had been torn off her shoulder, revealing the true pale color of the skin beneath. Charlie was fascinated by the discovery, and promised to “take her skinny dipping to see what else was under all that
green paint.”

  Cling Ling’s vines reached from behind the tree trunk and began meticulously undoing the ropes that bound her. Spring gasped and looked back with her frightened eyes. A hopeful smile briefly creased her lips when she saw Cling, but she did not dare to move or speak.

  Charlie looked toward her once, but she remained stiff as if still bound. He looked right past Cling Ling without seeing him. If he had noticed anything, he must have thought him part of the shrubbery.

  Having freed Spring, Cling Ling took full advantage of his natural camouflage, and flattening out his vines, inched forward toward the two men seated at the campfire.

  Sam glanced over his shoulder toward Spring. She held her breath, certain he would spot Cling Ling, but he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. She breathed again as he turned back and reached down for the coffee pot, first filling his own tin mug, then offering some to Charlie. Charlie held out his cup, then yowled in pain as the hot liquid sloshed over him.

  One of Cling Ling’s vines had tripped up Sam just as he lifted the pot. For a brief moment they all stood comically suspended, the two men trying to figure out what was going on. Then Cling Ling pressed a nerve on the injured Charlie’s spine, sending him crumbling into the ashes of the fire.

  Samuel reached for his knife. “An enchanted weed,” he bellowed, wielding the weapon at Cling’s foliage. Unfortunately for him, he hesitated, trying to find where the bush was vulnerable. It was a split second too long. One of Cling’s vines shot out to snatch away the blade, sending it sailing off into the creek. It sank with a small splash.

  “My father’s silver handled stabber,” Samuel cried. “Why you bloody bush! I’ll break you to kindling!” He reached wildly, picking Cling Ling up and squeezing him in a tight bear hug against his chest.

  It was probably the worst possible move he could have made. Cling’s vines wrapped around the man’s bull neck and contracted. Sam let go to clutch at his throat. He tried to speak, but the air was gone. He turned a motley shade of blue and dropped to the ground, taking Cling Ling with him. The man was done for.