Isle Of The Dead

by Roger Zelazny

  "A penny for your thoughts," I said.

  "What is a penny?"

  "An ancient monetary unit, once common on my home planet. On second thought, don't take me up on it. They're valuable now."

  "It is strange to offer to buy a thought. Was this a common practice among your people, in the old days?"

  "It had to do with the rise of the merchant classes," I said. "Everything has a price, and all that."

  "That is a very interesting concept, and I can see how one such as yourself could well believe in it. Would you buy a _pai'badra?_"

  "That would be barratry. A _pai'badra_ is a cause for an action."

  "But would you pay a person to abandon his vengeance against you?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "You would take my money and still seek the vengeance, hoping to lull me into a sense of false security."

  "I was not speaking of myself. You know that I am wealthy, and that a Pei'an does not abandon his vengeance for any reason. --No. I was thinking of Mike Shandon. He is of your race, and may also believe that everything has a price. As I recall it, he incurred your disfavor in the first place because he needed money and did things that offended you in order to obtain it. Now he hates you because you sent him to prison and then killed him. But since he is of your race, which places a monetary value upon all things, perhaps you might pay him sufficient money for his _pai'badra_ so that he will be satisfied and go away."

  Buy our way out? The thought hadn't occurred to me. I had come to Illyria ready to fight with a Pei'an menace. Now I held him in my hand and he was no longer a menace. An Earthman had replaced him as my number one enemy of the moment, and there was a possibility that this assessment was correct. We are a venal lot, not necessarily moreso than all of the other races--but certainly more than some. It had been Shandon's expensive tastes that had gotten him into a bind in the first place. Things had happened quickly since my arrival on Illyria, and strangely enough--for me and my Tree--it had not occurred to me that my money might be my salvation.

  On the other hand, considering Shandon's record as a spender--a thing brought out at the first trial and at the appellate level--he went through money like a _betta splendens_ through that most liquid of all aichemical elements. Say I gave him a half million in universal credit drafts. Anybody else could invest it and live on the dividends. He would go through it in a couple years. Then I would have problems again. He would have hit me this once, and he would figure he could do it again. And of course I could come through again. I could come through any time. So maybe he would not want to kill his golden goose. But then again, I'd never know for sure. I could not live with that.

  Still, if he were agreeable, I could buy him off now. Then I could arrange for a team of professional assassins to take him out of the game as soon as possible.

  But if they should fail ...

  Then he would be on my tail immediately, and it would be him or me again.

  I turned it over, looked at it from every possible angle. Ultimately, it boiled down to one thing.

  He'd had a gun with him, but he'd tried to kill me with his hands.

  "It won't work with Shandon," I said. "He's not a member of the merchant class."

  "Oh. I meant no offense. I still do not quite understand how these things work with Earthmen."

  "You're not alone in that."

  I watched the day fade away and the clouds zip themselves together once again. Soon it would be time to carry the raft to the shore and make our ways across the now temperate waters. There would be no moonlight to assist us.

  "Green Green," I said, "in you I see myself, as perhaps I have become more Pei'an than Earthman. I do not think this is the real reason, however, for everything that I am now is but an extension of something that was already within me. I, too, can kill as you would kill and hold with my _pai'badra_ come hell or high water."

  "I know that," he said, "and I respect you for it."

  "What I am trying to say is that when this thing is over, if we should both live through it, I might welcome you as a friend. I might intercede for you with the other Names, that you have another chance at confirmation. I might like to see a high priest of Strantri, in the Name of Kirwar of the Four Faces, Father of Flowers, should He be willing."

  "You are trying to find my price now, Earthman."

  "No, I am making a legitimate offer. Take it as you would. As yet, you have given me no _pai'badra_."

  "By trying to kill you?"

  "Under false _pai'badra_. This does not bother me."

  "You know that I may slay you whenever I wish?"

  "I know that you think so."

  "I had thought this thing better shielded."

  "It is a matter of deduction, not telepathy."

  "You _are_ much like a Pei'an," he said, after a moment. "I promise you that I will withhold my vengeance until after we have dealt with Shandon."

  "Soon," I said. "Soon we shall depart."

  And we sat there and waited for the night to fall. After a time, it did.

  "Now," I said.

  "Now," and we stood and raised the raft between us.

  We carried it down to the water's edge, waded out into the warm shallows, set it a-drifting.

  "Got your paddle?"

  "Yes."

  "Let's go."

  We climbed aboard, stabilized the thing, began paddling, then poling.

  "If he was above bribery," he said, "why did he sell your secrets?"

  "He would have sold the others out," I said, "had my people paid him more."

  "Then why is he above bribery?"

  "Because he is of my race and he hates me. Nothing more. There is no buying that kind of _pai'badra_."

  I thought then that I was right.

  "There are always dark areas within the minds of Earthmen," he observed. "One day I would like to know what is there."

  "Me too."

  A moon came up then, because a generalized blob of light appeared behind the clouds. It drifted slowly towards midheaven.

  The water splashed gently beside us, and little wavelets of it struck against our knees, our boots. A cool breeze followed us from the shore.

  "The volcano is at rest," he said. "What did you discuss with Belion?"

  "You don't miss a trick, do you?"

  "I tried to contact you several times, and I know what I found."

  "Belion and Shimbo are waiting," I said. "There will be quick movements, and one of them will be satisfied."

  The water was black as ink and warm as blood; the isle was a mountain of coal against the pearl and starless night. We poled until we lost the bottom, then commenced paddling, silently, twisting the oars. Green Green had a Pei'an's love of the water in him. I could feel it in the way that he moved, in the ragtails of emotion that I picked up as we proceeded.

  To cross over the dark waters ... It was an eerie feeling, because of what the place meant to me, because of the chord it had struck Within me while I was building it. The feeling of the Valley of Shadows, the sense of the serene passing, this was absent. This place was the butcher's block at the end of the nm. I hated it and I feared it. I knew that I lacked the spiritual stamina to ever duplicate it. It was one of those once in a lifetime creations that made me wish I hadn't. To cross over the dark waters meant to me a confrontation with something within myself that I did not understand or accept. I was cruising along on Tokyo Bay, and suddenly this was the answer, looming, the heaped remains of everything that goes down and does not come again to shore, life's giant kitchen-midden, the rubbish heap that remains after all things pass, the place that stands in testament to the futility of all ideals and intentions, good or bad, the rock that smashes values, there, signalizing the ultimate uselessness of life itself, which must one day be broken upon it, not to rise, never, no, not ever, again. The warm waters splashed about my knees, but a chill shook me and I broke rhythm. Green Green touched my shoulder, and we matched our paddling once again. --"Why did you ma
ke it, if you hate it so?" he asked me. --"They paid me well," I replied, and, "Bear to the left. We're going in the back way." Our course altered, shifting westward as he strengthened his strokes and I lightened mine. --"The back way?" he repeated. --"Yes," I said, and I did not elaborate.

  As we neared the isle, I ceased my reflections and became a mechanical thing, as I always do when there are too many thoughts to think. I paddled and we slipped through the night, and soon the isle lay to starboard, mysterious lights flecking its face. From ahead, the light that glowed atop the cone crossed our path, dappling the waters, casting a faint red glow upon the cliffs.

  We passed the isle then and moved toward it from the north. Through the night, I saw the northern face as in daylight. Memory mapped its scars and ridges, and my fingertips tingled with the texture of its stone.

  We drew near, and I touched the sheer, black face with my oar. We held that position while I stared upward, then said, "East."

  Several hundred yards later, we came to the place where I had hidden the "trail." A cleft slanted within the rock--forty feet of chimney--where the pressure of back and feet allowed ascent to a narrow ledge, along which a man might edge his way for sixty feet, to encounter a series of hand- and foot-holds leading up.

  I told this to Green Green, and he stabilized the raft while I went on ahead. Then he followed, uncomplaining, though his shoulder must have been bothering him.

  When I reached the top of the chimney, I looked down and was unable to spot the raft. I mentioned this, and Green Green grunted. I waited until he made it to the top, and helped him out of the cleft. Then we began inching our way along the cleft, eastward.

  It took us about fifteen minutes to reach the upward trail. Again, I went first, after explaining that we had a five-hundred-foot climb before we reached another ledge. The Pei'an grunted again and followed me.

  Soon my arms were sore, and when we made the ledge I sprawled and lit a cigarette. After ten minutes, we moved again. By midnight, we had made it to the top without mishap.

  We walked, for about ten minutes. Then we saw him.

  He was a wandering figure, doubtless narcotized up to the ears. Maybe not, though. You can never be too sure.

  So I approached him, placed my hand upon his shoulder, stood before him, said, "Courtcour, how have you been?"

  He looked up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. He weighed about three hundred fifty pounds, wore white garments (Green Green's idea, I guess), was blue-eyed, light-complexioned and soft-spoken. He lisped a bit when he answered me.

  "I think I have all the data," he said.

  "Good," I answered. "You know that I came here to meet this man--Green Green--in a combat of sorts. We have become allies recently, against Mike Shandon ...?"

  "Give me a moment," he replied.

  Then, "Yes," he said. "You lose."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Shandon kills you in three hours and ten minutes."

  "No," I said. "He can't."

  "If he does not," he replied, "it will be because you have slain him. Then Mister Green will kill you about five hours and twenty minutes from now."

  "What makes you so sure?"

  "Green is the worldscaper who did Korrlyn?"

  "Are you?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "Then he will kill you."

  "How?"

  "Probably by means of a blunt instrument," he said. "If you can avoid that, you might be able to take him with your hands. You've always proven just a bit stronger' than you look, and it fools people. I do not think it will help you this time, though."

  "Thanks," I said. "Don't lose any sleep."

  "... Unless you are both carrying secret weapons," he said, "and it is possible that you are."

  "Where is Shandon?"

  "In the chalet."

  "I want his head. How do I get it?"

  "You are a kind of demon factor. You have that ability which I cannot fully measure."

  "Yes. I know."

  "Do not use it."

  "Why?"

  "He has one, too."

  "I know that also."

  "If you can kill him at all, you kill him without it."

  "Okay."

  "You do not trust me."

  "I don't trust anybody."

  "Do you remember the night you hired me?"

  "Faintly."

  "It was the best meal I ever had in my life. Pork chops. Lots of them."

  "It comes back to me."

  "You told me of Shimbo then. Invoke him and Shandon will invoke the other one. Too many variables. It may be fatal."

  "Maybe Shandon has gotten to you."

  "No. I am just measuring probabilities."

  "Could Yarl the Omnipotent create a stone he could not lift?" Green Green asked him.

  "No," said Courtcour.

  "Why not?"

  "He would not."

  "That is no answer."

  "Yes it is. Think about it. Would _you?_"

  "I do not trust him," said Green Green. "He was normal when I brought him back, but I believe that perhaps Shandon has reached him."

  "No," said Courtcour. "I am trying to help you."

  "By telling Sandow he is going to die?"

  "Well, he is."

  Green raised his hand, and suddenly he was holding my gun, which he must have teleported from my belt, in the same fashion as he had obtained the tapes. He fired twice and handed it back to me.

  "Why did you do that?"

  "He was lying to you, trying to confuse you. Trying to destroy your confidence."

  "He was once a close associate of mine. He had trained himself to think like a computer. I think he was trying to be objective."

  "Get the tape and you can resurrect him."

  "Come on. I've got two hours and fifty-eight minutes."

  We walked away.

  "Should I not have done that?" he asked me, after a time.

  "No."

  "I am sorry."

  "Great. Don't kill anybody else unless I ask you to, huh?"

  "All right. --You have killed many people, have you not, Frank?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "Them or me, and I'd rather it was them."

  "So?"

  "You didn't have to kill Bodgis."

  "I thought--"

  "Shut up. Just shut up."

  We walked on, passing through a cleft of rock. Tendrils of mist snaked by, touched our garments. Another shadowy figure stood off to the side, at the place where we emerged upon a downward-sloping trail.

  "... Coming to die," she said, and I stopped and looked at her.

  "Lady Karle."

  "Pass on, pass on," she said. "Hasten to your doom. You could not know what it means to me."

  "I loved you once," I said, which was not the right thing to say at all.

  She shook her head.

  "The only thing you ever loved--besides yourself-- was money. You got it. You killed more people than I know of to keep your empire, Frank. Now there has finally come a man who can take you. I am proud to be present at your doom."

  I turned on the torch and shone it upon her. Her hair was so red and her features so white... . Her face was heart-shaped and her eyes were green, as I remembered them. For a moment, I ached for her.

  "What if I take _him?_" I asked.

  "Then I'm probably going to be yours again for awhile," she replied, "but I hope not. You are evil and I want you to die. I'd find a way myself, if you were to have me again."

  "Stop," said Green Green. "I brought you back from the dead. I brought this man here to kill him. I was usurped by a human being who, fortunately or unfortunately, is possessed of a similar intention with respect to Sandow. But Frank and I have our fates cast together now. Consider me. I restored you and I will preserve you. Help us to get at our enemy and I will reward you."

  She moved out of the circle of light and hen laughter came down upon us.

  "No," she called out. "No, thank you."


  "I once loved you," I said.

  There was silence, then, "Could you do it again?"

  "I don't really know, but you mean something to me--something important."

  "Pass on," she said. "All debts be canceled. Co to Shandon and die."

  "Please," I said. "Once upon a time, when I held you it meant much to me. Lady Karle, I have never stopped caring for you, even after you left. And it was not I who broke the Ten of Algol, though this is often said."

  "It was you."

  "I think I could convince you that it was not."

  "Don't bother trying. Pass on."

  "All right," I said. "I won't stop, though."

  "What? Stop what?"

  "Caring for you, some," I said.

  "Pass on. Please pass on!"

  And we did.

  All that time we had been speaking her language-- Dralmin--and I hadn't even realized that I had switched from English. Funny.

  "You have loved many women, haven't you, Frank?" asked Green Green.

  "Yes."

  "Were you lying to her--about caring for her?"

  "No."

  We followed the trail until I could see the lights of the chalet before/below me. We continued in that direction, and a final figure appeared, drew near.

  "Nick!"

  "That's right, mister."

  "It's me--Frank!"

  "By God, I think it is. Come closer, huh?"

  "Sure. Here's a light." I spilled it all over myself so that he could see.

  "Jesus! It's really you!" he said. "That guy down there is a nut, you know, and he's after you."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "He wanted me to help get you, and I told him to go indulge in auto-eroticism. He was mad. We had a fight. I busted his nose and got the hell out. He didn't come after me, though. He's tough."

  "I know."

  "I'm going to help you get him."

  "Okay."

  "But I don't like that guy you're with."

  Nick, all out of the past and storming... . It was great.

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's the one responsible for the whole thing. He brought me back, and the others. He's a sneaky son of a bitch. If I were you, I'd take him out of the picture real quick."

  "We're allies now, he and I."

  Nick spat.

  "I'm going to get you, mister," he said to Green Green. "When this whole thing is over, you're mine. Remember those days when you questioned me? It wasn't fun. --And now, my turn will come."