Arthur H. Landis - Camelot 01

by A World Called Camelot

  “We are three,” the voice of the great Vuun replied. “We are council and authority.”

  “Then one thing more. Bring the two of whom you spoke, for I would see that they are unharmed.”

  “Indeed?” The voice grew colder still, and held the fine edge of insult. “Are you some miserable mating animal, then? And is that, perhaps, your real and total purpose?”

  “It is not!”

  I landed the small craft beneath the direction of the great Vuun. We came to stony ground before a cave mouth of a full six hundred yards in width. Indeed, the ledge itself was a full two hundred yards from mouth to lip. I stepped to rock, damped out the ship, and instantly moved toward the entrance. I was dressed lightly, though warmly, in green shirt, padded jacket, and breeches and furred knee-boots. I wore my belt and sword and nothing else. I stood stock-still before moving to enter the cave.

  “And now I must caution you,” I said strongly. “If any harm comes to me from you, and I enter yonder cave, you and all the dwindling handful of the life that you represent will rue it to your last great stinking breath; for I tell you now that I bring you years of peace—but that without me, for you there will be nothing.”

  “Enter the cave mouth, Man,” the great Vuun answered, “and stop your mewling. As for the stink you mention, know you this and know it well: it is the smell of life to us; whereas ‘tis you and the likes of you that bring the stench of flesh and carrion… . Now1 Enough! Come to us and you will not be harmed!”

  Despite my bluster I entered that cave with an understandable degree of trepidation. Again, I was encompassed with a null magnetic field against the Kaleen. It would avail me little, however, if the Vuun and all its cohorts sought to squash me —one flick of a monstrous claw and that would be that.

  The clouds, snow-filled and gray, had been low outside, therefore the light within was meager. I found a gigantic, seemingly endless hall whose dripping walls rose to a great ceiling beyond my sight in the semidarkness. Its depths disappeared before me in like manner.

  To the left and right, at one hundred yards within the entrance, were raised platforms of some semitranslucent and softened substance. They could be likened to great green and glowing pillows. Upon each of these there was a Vuun. They rested, great leathern wings folded along the length of ghastly, mottled bodies; necks hunched back upon slate-gray, bone-slick shoulders; and head lying forward upon a breast that resembled nothing less than a giant kettledrum. The eyes were what I was drawn to. They were red with green pupils, saucer-sized, cold, completely detached. They were half lidded, with the leathern, membranous lids coming up from the bottom. And they seemed to slumber; to be unseeing, uncaring. I hesitated to stare briefly to right and left. Then I continued on. I passed, in the space of minutes—and indeed I seemingly walked for many a city block—a number of great niches, passageways, from which came the hellish orange-red-purple glow of far volcanic fires. The Vuuns had created these passageways, I knew, for even they were no friends of darkness. Then, in the distance, what had been but a blue-green glow came finally alive in definition. Nine great green and glowing pillows before a raised dais; equal to its height. And beyond them, for they were centered in the great cave, were the entrances to other passageways, each Vuun-sized, like subways of antiquity. Around the periphery of the dais, and in a perfect arc, was a small stream cut from the very rock. Its water was heated, green, and phosphorescent. I assumed it was of volcanic origin. The temperature within the cave had risen considerably, though it was not uncomfortable.

  I continued on, vaulting upon the dais, for there were no steps. Of the nine pillows, but three were occupied. And, though the resting Vuuns seemed alike to those at the gates, still there was a difference. The great red eyes were not lidded, but rather they looked straight at me with a deathlike stare of monstrous, reptilian Lazarae… .

  I placed my hands upon my hips and stared right back, from one to the other, albeit all were alike to me.

  “And now”—the same voice probed my mind—”you are here. “And you will give us the simple reason why we should not kill you.”

  “That I will most certainly do. But first the two we spoke of. I would see them here and now.”

  “Then you are indeed but a mating animal.” I frowned, paused, then said mentally in tones sufficiently cold to match their own, “Keep those stupid thoughts inside your lizard heads and let us recognize and accept the fact that we are alien, one unto the other. We are alien, but of the same galaxy. I think that if we do this, we will soon see that we still have more in common with each other than with that blasphemous thing of Hish—before which you now scrape and bow.”

  The center Vuun—his eyes blazed briefly more scarlet— said bluntly, ignoring my gibes, “You speak of galaxies, Man. What know you of galaxies?”

  “As much or more than you. And therefore am I here. Now where are the two?” “They come.”

  And I waited. And apparently they had been already coming, for within minutes a metal-ribbed boat stretched with oiled and sewn skins appeared upon the artificial stream. In it were Murie and Caroween and two men, guards by their appearance. At sight of them I drew my sword. If the Vuuns had aught to say of this they let it pass. They simply glared with baleful eyes.

  The stream passed to within but a hundred yards of the dais. The boat halted. The guards lashed it to a knobbed protuberance. Then they brought the two girls to the dais, lifted them, and placed them on it. It was a goodly hundred and fifty feet across, just right for Vuun hearing. For a man it was the width of a soccer field.

  Murie looked beautiful, just beautiful! Her petite form was wrapped in a green velvet undersuit from which she had long since stripped her small link-armor. Her purple eyes sparkled with a glitter for me alone… . The vibes were great. Her surcoat, jupon, had been quite bloodied, as I remembered it.

  It now, like her page-boy bob and beaming face, was well scrubbed. Caroween, other than her red hair and heather attire, was Murie’s mirrored image—for both were of a similar size and shape.

  Though the light in the cave was insufficient to spell me out, the very arrogance of my posture told them who I was, for they literally ran to me. They ran to me and I took the both of them; I could not have denied Caroween the presence of Rawl. And to her that’s who I was. Murie would not have had it otherwise. So, with one hand still grasping my sword, my arms were filled with sweet-smelling, giggling—and half crying—female flesh; the best all Camelot had to offer. A redhead and a blond against either shoulder. Aye! That I should drop dead in just such a situation. … I stared beyond their heads to the red eyes of the three great Vuuns, daring them to think one stupid thought. They seemed impassive, not caring a Terran fig. Then I remembered the two guards who accompanied the girls. I gently pushed Murie and Caroween to one side.

  They were two hulking brutes in leather harness and loincloths. They looked at me doltishly, though there was something of awe in their stare, too.

  “Are you of Om?” I asked softly.

  One of them answered gruffly, his eyes wavering: “What is Om?”

  I simply stared and shook my head. I turned to look keenly at the three Vuuns and returned my sword to its sheath. They knew nothing of Om, and that was interesting.

  If they had I would have killed them instantly, for I would not trust the Vuuns to maintain my presence secret, other than through themselves.

  I said harshly, “Stand back. Move to the edge of this platform and do not come near us again until I say you can.”

  Then I kissed Murie, held her tight and held Caroween, too. When I drew away for breath she managed to choke out, “Hey now, m’lord! At first I thought you overlong in coming—and now it seems but seconds from that gray place of stone and ice.” She buried her face again in the hollow of my shoulder.

  “And did you ever doubt it—my coming?”

  “Not for a breath, my lord.” Her voice came muffled.

  I tipped her face upward and kissed her again. When I let
her go she asked pertly, “Now how will you deal with yon great buzzards—so as to free us?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  Then I turned to Caroween and kissed her, too, though on her comely cheek, and not with passion. “I have seen your knight,” I told her. “And this but short hours ago. He is well. He goes to Keen in Ferlach, and from there to a great plain called Dunguring some miles from Corchoon, the capital of Kelb.”

  “Does my lord know of my circumstances?”

  “Indeed, for I have told him.”

  “Then why, sir, is he not with you?”

  “Because I could not let him come, my lady.”

  “Well now, indeed, m’lord,” the girl began, almost angrily. But Murie spoke up sharply, saying, “Cari! Do not fault my lord, when he is here to take us from the taloned grasp of yon great pot-pies. Look to your reason.”

  Upon this my redhead burst into tears, kissed my cheek quickly again, and buried her face in the hollow of my remaining shoulder. At this last I detected a faintly raised eyebrow from my not-too-gentle Murie Nigaard, and I patted Caroween’s shoulder for exactly three seconds, then let her go. I held Murie again, felt the length of her soft body since neither of us wore but simple clothes. I brushed her lips and eyes and pert nose with my lips. I even managed to nibble a pointy ear; all in defiance, I think, of those three great Vuuns —or at least in part

  I then said, “I ask now, Murie, that you give me your silence, your respect, and all your confidence. For I will converse with those Vuuns and you will not hear of what we say. And there is no time now to explain. With luck there will be forever, later.”

  She stared at me with those great purple eyes. Then she touched ‘my chest with dainty lingering fingertips. “I do not know what you are, or who, or from where, my lord—except I know that you be here with me. Now say your say to those great monsters, and I am your true right arm.”

  Murie then stepped to Caroween and they stood with their arms around each other, as I deemed they had often done these three most fearful days and nights from Goolbie’s keep. I advanced three paces toward the edge of the dais and faced the enemy. I placed my hands on my hips and sent an enlivening mental charge across that space that I knew was pure shock to them… . “And now,” I said, “we will begin our parley… .”

  “Indeed!” The icy thought came back to me. “Have you finally done with your obscene writhings and chucklings and sickening rubbings, which to our eyes are cause for reflex horror?”

  “Have done,” I answered softly. “There is no need.”

  “Have done, indeed! You miserable mating animal! Have done completely. And touch not again in our presence those ghastly, maggoty facsimiles of yourself. For if you do, we shall terminate this talk and you—and instantly! Now tell us of galaxies and delay no longer.”

  And I told them. I told them of Fomalhaut and of Fomalhaut II, and of the twin stars with their twin systems; and of those systems’ total place in our total galaxy; and of the galaxies of our universe. And through it all a great and turgid silence reigned inside each monstrous horned head. And finally, when I was through, the middle Vuun—and somehow I gathered that he had a name and that the name was Ap— said bluntly, “So we have thought it to be, Man-thing. Across the centuries we have discussed it. And our conclusions, though not precise in fact, are in theory substantiated by all you say.”

  “You have arrived at this knowledge by pure reason?”

  “We have had time for it, Man-thing.”

  “How long, then, is your life-span?”

  “A thousand Fomalhaut years.”

  “Then how long has it been, exactly, since the arrival of the men from that far, other world—for you would know.”

  “Five thousand years and a score. And that is their brief history. There were twelve great ships, each with a thousand man-things; and some came here to this great world south of the river-sea. The others landed in the north. And they were all as children then, knowing nothing of their past or of the intricacies of their carriers. And we thought at first that all would die. But that was not to be. And in this short time —since their race memory has prevailed—they have created gods and cities in which to dwell and kings to rule and serfs to serve, so that now, though still few, they range the two great continents. And we who breed but slowly, and sometimes not at all, for we are not as you and have few such desires, have, with the coming of knowledge, little to do but watch and await our death in some far millennium… .”

  “There were only man-things aboard those ships—no other life?”

  “None but that which lies in Hish.”

  “Then all life here—?”

  “Is as it was. We are the dominants; next come dottles, gerds, fixls and like ruminants, and the killer-things of Whist, and some others like them, and so on down the line to insects and the things of the sea.”

  “And great Yorns?”

  “They are man-things, but different, for they are in some way diseased. They are from a single ship which landed in our median-tropic-upland zones.”

  “And Pug-Boos?”

  ‘Tender leaf-eaters here in our southland. And if the trees do not leaf in proper tune the Pug-Boos simply wait and stare, and stare and starve, and finally fall down to the ground.”

  “They are that stupid?”

  “They are that stupid.”

  “What of ecological balance? Are there no carnivores?”

  I knew the answer, in general, to that question, except for the Vuun’s reference to “the killer-things of Whist—and others.” But my desire was to place the Vuun; therefore the question.

  “As stated, there are a sufficiency for the job. And they come in many kinds, those meat-eaters. They range both continents.”

  “And you,” I dared ask the question, “are you meat-eaters?”

  Again the icy calm of concentration, and then the words. “Think on it, Man. Were we carnivorous with our great size, life as you know it now would long since have vanished from this fecund world. We feed upon the flora of the sea from which we came. And we are at peace with all life.”

  “I have heard otherwise.”

  “In the beginning we did attack those from the ships, thinking them a great and perilous danger. When we found out differently, we let them be.”

  “And those of the guards who brought my companions here?”

  “They are our men; from another, single ship of the twelve. They serve us.” “Indeed,” I said. “Indeed,” Ap answered.

  “Well now,” I said bluntly, “let us get to our point. And in lieu of unnecessary prattle and dissimulation I will simply tell you that which is, for I think I know you now. And though we do be alien, one to the other, it remains as I said before—that there is more between us than there is between you and that thing that lies in rocky Hishian bowels—that which calls itself the Kaleen.”

  “Correction, Man-thing. It calls itself nothing. It is you and yours which have given it the name, Kaleen.”

  “Whatever. To what end, I ask, have you made pact with it, so that you go against the men of the north, and thereby, with their defeat, enhance its power?”

  “This Kaleen, so we have believed, is not warlike. It lies quiescent, except when man-things go beyond their present status and seek to build; to know; to advance themselves to what they were when they first came. For us, too, this continued growth of man-things cannot be. For if it happens, then in all this world there will be no place for Vuuns. We are few now—less than five hundred. We have no great love of life. But while we live, and while a spark of interest yet remains, we would be at peace and not be driven. We would think our thoughts and know our soil, our sky, and our great seas: we would not have our world change.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you?’

  “Great Ap,” I told him, “know this and know it well. In all our shared galaxy, nay, in all our great universe, there are ten thousand times ten thousand worlds like this one. Some are virgin, jungle and great forest
s, and they teem with life, while others do not. And there are worlds where live those akin to you. And finally, in some far future, this world will change and there is nothing you or any life-form can do about it. Certainly the thing of Hish will not prevent that change. Indeed, it fosters it even now—for its own ends.”

  And then I told them what the Pug-Boos had told me, leaving nothing out but that the information came from a source other than my Foundation. “And look,” I said finally. “The control of this planet which the thing of Hish plans for itself—and this a control of all life here, including yours— this very act creates the circumstances for change. The thing has given the men of Om a magic power; though, as told to you, the power is derived of knowledge and not of magic. This power has extended beyond Om to all the lands of the two continents. In the northern world it is even taught in collegiums as a practical course. Think you not that each succeeding generation of men will not question further the real source of this power? And think you not that sooner or later they will find it? When that is done, well then indeed will men arise to the glory of their past—and all that is will change.