The Duke, who had always made a fetish of inconvenience, flicked on his wrist translator (which had originally been intended for communicating with Yusharisp's colleague), an ornate, old-fashioned and rather bulky piece of equipment he favoured over simpler forms of translator. When the aliens' outburst had subsided and they sat asprawl, still tittering and giggling a little, the Duke bowed, presenting himself and his companions to them.
"Welcome to our planet, gentlemen. May we congratulate you on a performance which went behind pleasure?"
As he drew closer, Jherek detected an odour he recognized from his sojourn in the 19th century; it was the smell of stale sweat. When one of the aliens stood up at last and came swaggering towards them, the odour grew decidedly stronger.
Grinning, the ruffian scratched himself and offered them a bow which was a mockery of the Duke's and sent his companions into a complaining, painful sequence of snorts and grunts.
"We were just having a bit of fun among ourselves," the alien said, "to pass the time. There seems precious little else to do on this tired old globe of yours."
"Oh, I'm sure we can find ways of amusing you," said My Lady Charlotina. She licked her lips.
"How long have you been here?"
The alien stood on one bandy leg and scratched at his calf. "Not long. Sooner or later we'll have to see about repairing our ship, I suppose." He offered her what seemed to be a crude wink. My Lady Charlotina sucked in her lower lip and sighed, while the Iron Orchid whispered to Jherek:
"What marvellous additions they will make to a menagerie. I believe the Duke realizes it, too. He has first claim, of course. A shame."
"And from what part of the cosmos have you come?" asked Bishop Castle politely.
"Oh, I doubt if you'd recognize the name. I'm not even sure it exists any more. Me and my crew are the last of our species. We're called the Lat. I'm Captain Mubbers."
"And why do you travel the spaces between the stars?" The Iron Orchid exchanged a secret look with My Lady Charlotina. Their eyes sparkled.
"Well, you probably know that this universe is pretty much crapped out now. So we're drifting, really, hoping to find the secret of immortality and get a bit of fun along the way. When that's done — if we ever succeed — we're going to try to escape into another universe not subject to the same conditions."
"A second universe?" said Jherek. "Surely a contradiction?"
"If you like." Captain Mubbers shrugged and yawned.
"The secret of immortality and a bit of fun!" exclaimed the Duke of Queens. "We have both! You must be our guests!"
It was now quite plain to Jherek that the devious Duke intended to add the whole band to his collection. It would be a real feather in his cap to own such splendid musicians, and would more than make up for his gaff involving Yusharisp. However, Captain Mubbers' response was not quite what the Duke seemed to hope for. An expression of low cunning crossed his features and he turned to his crew.
"What do you think, lads? This gentleman says we can stay at his place."
"Well," said one, "if he's really got the secret of immortality…"
"He's not just going to give it up, is he?" said another. "What's in it for him?"
"We assure you, our motives are altruistic," Bishop Castle insisted. "It would give us pleasure to have you as our guests. Say that we enjoy your music. If you play some more for us, we will show our gratitude by making you immortal. We are all immortal, aren't we?" He turned for confirmation to his companions who chorused their agreement.
"Really?" mused Captain Mubbers. He fingered his jaw.
"Really," breathed the Iron Orchid. "Why I myself am some…" She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of My Lady Charlotina's affected lack of interest in her remarks. "Well, quite a few hundred years old," she concluded anticlimatically.
"I have lived two or three thousand years, at least," said the Duke of Queens.
"Don't you get bored?" enquired one of the seated aliens. "That's what we were wondering about."
"Oh, no. No, no, no! We have our pastimes. We create things. We talk. We make love. We invent games to play. Sometimes we'll go to sleep for a few years, maybe longer, if we do tire of what we're doing, but you'd be surprised how swiftly the time goes when you're immortal."
"I'd never even thought of it," said Bishop Castle. "I suppose it's because people have been immortal on this planet for millennia. You get used to it."
"I've a better idea," Captain Mubbers said with a grin. "You will be our guests. We'll take you with us as we continue our ride through the universe. On the way you can tell us the secret of immortality."
Nonplussed, the Duke shuddered. "To space! Our nerves would not bear it, I regret!" He turned with a wan smile to Jherek, still addressing the alien. "I thank you for your invitation, Captain Mubbers, but we have to refuse. Only Mongrove, who seeks discomfort in all forms, would ever contemplate venturing into space."
"No," said My Lady Charlotina sweetly. "It is our duty to entertain you. We shall all go back to Below-the-Lake and have, oh, a party."
"We were having a party when you turned up," Captain Mubbers pointed out. He sniffed and rubbed at his bulbous nose. "Mind you, I think I know what you mean. Eh?" And he sidled up to her and gave her a nudge in the thigh. "We've been a long time in space, lady."
"Oh, you poor things!" said My Lady Charlotina, putting two of her hands on either side of his face and twiddling his moustachios. "Are there no females of your race now?"
"Not so much as a single old slag." He raised his eyes piteously to contemplate the trees. "It's been a very hard trip, you know. Why, I doubt if I've tickled an elbow in four or five years." He darted a chiding glance at his companions who were leering to a man. Then, smirking, he reached up and put his hand on her bottom. "Why don't you and me go inside the ship and talk about this some more?"
"It would be more comfortable if you returned with us," insisted the Duke of Queens. "You could have some food, a rest, a bath…"
"Bath?" Captain Mubbers started in alarm. "Do what? Come off it, Duke. We've still got a long way to go. What are you trying to suggest?"
"I mean that we can supply anything you desire. We could even create females of your own species for you, reproduce exactly your own environment. It is easily within our power."
"Ho!" said Captain Mubbers suspiciously. "I bet!"
"I'd like to know what their game is." One of the crew got up, picking his teeth (which were pointed and yellow.) His three pupils darted this way and that, regarding the five Earth-people. "You're too sodding eager to please, if you ask me."
The Duke made a vague gesture with his hands. "Surely you can't suspect our motives? As guests on our planet, it is your right to be entertained by us."
"Well, you're the first lot who thought that," said the crewmember, putting his hand into his shirt and rubbing his chest. "No, I agree with the skipper. You come with us." The others nodded their approval of this proposal.
"But," the Iron Orchid told them reasonably, "my scrumptious little space-sailors, you fail to understand our absolute loathing of these vacuous reaches. Why, hardly anyone makes the trip to the nearer planets of our own system any more, let alone plunging willy-nilly into that chilly wilderness between the stars!" Her expression softened, she removed the cap of the one who had just approached.
She stroked his bald spot. "It is no longer in our natures to leave the planet. We are set in our ways. We are an old, old race, you see. Space bores us. Other planets irritate and frustrate us because good manners demand that we do not re-model them to our own tastes. What is there for us in your infinity?
After all, save for minor differences, one star looks very much like another."
The Lat snatched his hat from her hand and pulled it down over his head. "Thrills," he said.
"Adventures. Peril. New sensations."
"There are no new sensations, surely?" said Bishop Castle, willing to hear of one if it existed. "Just modifications of the old ones, I'
d have thought."
"Well," said Captain Mubbers decisively, stooping to pick up his instrument. "You're coming with us and that's that. I know a trap when I smell one."
The Duke of Queens pursed his lips. "I think it's time we left. Evidently, an impasse…"
"More like a fait accompli, chummy," said the pugnacious alien, pointing his instrument in the Duke's general direction. "Get 'em down and show 'em up!"
By this time the other Lat had picked their horns and strings from the ground.
"I don't follow you?" the Duke told Captain Mubbers. "Get what down? And shove what up?"
"The trousers and the hands in that order," said Captain Mubbers. And he motioned with his instrument.
Bishop Castle laughed. "I believe they are menacing us, you know!"
My Lady Charlotina gave a squeal of delight. The Iron Orchid put fingers to her lips, her eyes widening.
"Are those weapons as well as musical instruments?" asked Jherek with interest.
"Spot on," said Captain Mubbers. "Watch this." He turned away, directing the oddly shaped device at the nearby trees. "Fire," he said.
A howling, burning wind issued from the thing in his hands. It seared through the trees and turned them to smoking ash. It produced a tunnel of brightness through the gloom of the forest; it revealed a plain beyond, and a mountain beyond that. The wind did not stop until it reached the far-away mountain.
The mountain exploded. They heard a faint bang.
"All right?" said Captain Mubbers, turning back to them enquiringly.
His companions smirked. One of them, in a metal helmet, said: "You wouldn't get far, would you, if you tried to run for it?"
"Who would resurrect us?" said Bishop Castle. "How curious? I haven't seen an actual weapon before."
"You intend, then, to kidnap us!" said My Lady Charlotina.
"Mibix unview per?" said Captain Mubbers. "Kroofrudi! Dyew oh tyae, hiu hawtquards!"
In despair, the Duke of Queens had switched off his translator.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Conflict of Illusions
"It is certainly not very much of an advantage," said the Duke of Queens miserably. They all sat together near the spaceship while the Lat kneeled nearby, absorbed in some kind of gambling game. The Iron Orchid and My Lady Charlotina seemed to be the stakes. Only My Lady Charlotina was getting impatient.
She sighed. "I do wish they'd hurry up. They're lovable, but they're not very decisive."
"You think not?" said Bishop Castle, picking at some moss. "They seemed to have reached the decision to kidnap us pretty quickly."
Jherek was miserable. "If they take us into space I'll never see Mrs. Amelia Underwood!"
"Try a disseminator ring on their weapons again," suggested the Iron Orchid. "Mine doesn't work, Bishop, but yours might."
The Bishop concentrated, fiddling with his ring, but nothing at all happened. "They are only effective on things we create ourselves. We could get rid of the rest of the trees, I suppose…"
"There seems little point," said Jherek. He sighed.
"Well," said the Duke of Queens, an inveterate viewer of the bright side, "we might see something interesting in space."
"Our ancestors never did," the Iron Orchid reminded him. "Besides, how are we to get back?"
"Build a spaceship." The Duke of Queens was puzzled by her apparent obtuseness. "With a power ring."
"If they work in the depths of the cosmic void. Do you recall any record of the rings themselves being used away from Earth?" Bishop Castle shrugged, not expecting a reply.
"Did they have power rings all those thousands and thousands of years ago? Oh, dear, I feel very sleepy." My Lady Charlotina was unusually bored. She had gone off the whole idea of making love to the Lat, either singly or all together. "Let's create an air car and go, shall we."
Bishop Castle was grinning. "I have a more amusing notion." He waved the deceptor-gun. "It should cheer us all up and make an exciting end to this adventure. Presumably the gun is conventionally loaded, Jherek?"
"Oh, yes." Jherek nodded absently.
"Then it will fire illusions at random. I remember the craze for these toys. Two players each have a gun, not knowing which illusions will come out, but hoping that one illusion will counter another."
"That's right," said Jherek. "I couldn't find anyone interested enough to play, however."
Captain Mubbers had left his men and was swaggering towards them.
"Hujo, ri fert glex min glex viel," he barked, menacing them at musical instrument point.
They pretended to have no idea at all as to his meaning (which was fairly clear — he wanted the ladies to enter the spaceship).
"Kroofrudi!" said Captain Mubbers. "Glem min glex viel!"
My Lady Charlotina dimpled prettily. "My dear captain, we simply can't understand you. And you can't understand us now, can you?"
"Hrunt," Shifting his grip on his instrument, Captain Mubbers smiled salaciously and placed a bold hand on her elbow. "Hrunt glex, mibix?"
"Dog!" My Lady Charlotina blushed and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I suppose we should try the gun now, Bishop."
There came a slight "pop" and everything turned to blue and white. Blue and white birds and insects, delicate, languid, flitted through equally delicate willow trees — white against blue or blue against white, depending on their particular background.
Captain Mubbers was a little surprised. Then he shook his head and pushed My Lady Charlotina towards the ship.
"Perhaps we should allow him just a brief ravishment," she said.
"Too late," said Bishop Castle, and he fired again. "Who loaded this gun, Jherek? We must hope for something a little less restrained."
The second illusion now intruded upon the first. Into the delicate blue and white scenery there lumbered a monstrous ten-legged beast which was predominantly reptilian, with huge eyes which shot flames as it turned its fierce head this way and that.
Captain Mubbers yelled and aimed his instrument. He managed to destroy a fair amount of the wood beyond the blue and white landscape and the flame-eyed monster, but they were unaffected.
"I think it's time to slip away," said Bishop Castle, pulling the trigger once more and introducing bright abstract patterns which whizzed erratically through the air, clashing horribly with the blue and white and making the reptilian beast irritable. The Lat were firing repeatedly at the monster, backing away from it as it advanced (by luck) towards them.
"Oh," said the Iron Orchid in disappointment as Jherek took her by the arm and dragged her into the forest, "can't we watch?"
"Can you remember where we left your air car, Jherek?" The Duke of Queens was panting and excited. "Isn't this fun?"
"I think it was that way," Jherek replied. "But perhaps it would be wise to stop and make another?"
"Would that be sporting, do you think?" asked the Iron Orchid.
"I suppose not."
"Come on then!" She raced off through the trees and had soon vanished in the gloom. Jherek followed her, with Bishop Castle close on his heels.
"Mother, I'm not sure it's wise to separate."
Her voice drifted back to him. "Oh, Jherek, you've become joyless, my juice!"
But soon he had lost her altogether and he stopped, exhausted, beside a particularly large old tree.
Bishop Castle had kept up with him and now handed him the deceptor-gun. "Would you mind holding this for a bit, Jherek. It's quite heavy."
Jherek took it and tucked it into his clothes. He heard the sound of something large blundering through the forest. Trunks fell, branches cracked, fires started.
"It's particularly realistic, isn't it?" Bishop Castle seemed almost of the impression that he had made the monster himself. He winced as something howled past his nose and destroyed a line of trees. "The Lat seem to be catching up with us." He dived into the undergrowth, leaving Jherek still undecided as to the direction he should take.
And now, because he might be k
illed forever, before he could see Mrs. Amelia Underwood again, he was filled by panic. It was a new emotion and part of his mind took an objective curiosity in it. He began to run. He was careless of the branches which struck his face. He ran on and on, through darkness, away from the sounds and the destruction. Danger was a wall which seemed to surround him, in escaping one source he encountered another. Once he bumped against someone in the dark and was about to speak when they said, "Ferkit!" He moved away as quietly as possible and heard a blood-chilling shriek from somewhere else.
He ran, he fell, he crawled, got up and ran again. His chest was painful and his brain was useless.
He thought that he might be sobbing and he knew that the next time he would fall and not have the will to rise.
He tripped. He lost his balance. He was reconciled to Death. He went sprawling down the sides of an old pit, bits of earth and rock falling with him, and was about to congratulate himself that he might after all have found relative safety when the bottom of the pit gave way and he was sliding down something which was smooth and plainly built for this purpose. Down and down he slid on the metal chute, feeling sick with the speed of his descent, unable to reach his power rings, unable to slow himself, until he must have been almost a mile underground. Then, at last, the chute came to an end and he landed, winded and dazed, on what appeared to be a pile of mildewed quilts.
The light was dim and it was artificial. After a while he sat up, feeling tenderly over his body for broken bones, but there were none. A peculiar sense of well-being filled him and he lay back upon the quilts with a yawn, hoping that his friends had managed to get back to the landau. He would rest and then consider the best method of joining them. A power ring would doubtless bore a tunnel upwards for him, then he could drift to the surface by means of counter-gravity. He felt extremely sleepy. He could hardly believe in the events which had just taken place. He was about to close his eyes when he heard a small, lisping voice saying:
"Welcome, sir, to Wonderland!"
Dancers at the End of Time Page 22
