The arm reached its height, pointing straight up.
“I used to do that,” said Alan.
The cry came, something like a silent pistol-shot which all of them heard, but a shot without echoes, without reverberations.
Alan looked around. “All the children are in. Even Rupert. Come in, my darlings, and let us have dinner together.” Alma and Ellen went ahead of him and he barred the heavy doors behind them.
This was peace and happiness; that at last was goodness. They had no obligation but to live and to be happy. The threat and the promise of victory were far, far behind.
Down to a Sunless Sea
High, oh, high, oh, they jingle in the sky oh! Bright how bright the light of those twin moons of Xanadu, Xanadu the lost, Xanadu the lovely, Xanadu the seat of pleasure. Pleasure of the senses, body, mind, soul. Soul? Who said anything about soul?
I
Where they were standing the wind whispered softly. From time to time Madu in an ageless feminine gesture tugged at her tiny silver skirt or adjusted her equally nominal open sleeveless jacket. Not that she was cold. Her abbreviated costume was appropriate to Xanadu’s equable climate.
She thought: “I wonder what he will be like, this Lord of the Instrumentality? Will he be old or young, fair or dark, wise or foolish?” She did not think “handsome or ugly.” Xanadu was noted for the physical perfection of its inhabitants, and Madu was too young to expect anything less.
Lari, waiting beside her, was not thinking of the Space Lord. His mind was seeing again the video tapes of the dancing, the intricate steps and beautiful frenzy of movement of the group from ancient days of Manhome, the group labeled “Bawl-shoy.” “Someday,” he thought, “oh, perhaps someday I too can dance like that…”
Kuat thought: “Who do they think they’re fooling? In all the years I’ve been governor of Xanadu this is the first time a Lord has been here. War hero of the battle of Styron IV indeed! Why, that’s been over substantive months ago…He’s had plenty of time to recover if it’s really true he was wounded. No, there’s something more…they know or suspect something…Well, we’ll keep him busy. Shouldn’t be hard to do here with all the pleasures Xanadu has to offer…and there’s Madu. No, he can’t complain or he’ll blow his cover…”
And all the while, as the ornithopter neared, their destiny was approaching. He did not know that he was to be their destiny; he did not intend to be their destiny, and their destiny had not been predetermined.
The passenger in the descending ornithopter reached out with his mind to try to perceive the place, to sense it. It was hard, terribly hard…there seemed to be a thick cloud-like cover—a mist—between his mind and the minds he tried to feel. Was it himself, his mind damage from the war? Or was it something more, the atmosphere of the planet—something to deter or prevent telepathy?
Lord bin Permaiswari shook his head. He was so full of self-doubt, so confused. Ever since the battle…the mind-scarring probes of the fear machines…how much permanent damage had they done? Perhaps here on Xanadu he could rest and forget.
As he stepped from the ornithopter Lord bin Permaiswari felt an even greater sense of bewilderment. He had known that Xanadu had no sun, but he was unprepared for the soft shadowless light which greeted him. The twin moons hung, seemingly, side by side, while their light was reflected by millions of mirrors. In the near distance li after li of white sand beaches stretched, while farther on stood chalk cliffs with the jet-black sea foaming on their bases. Black, white, silver, the colors of Xanadu.
Kuat approached him without delay. Kuat’s sense of apprehension had diminished appreciably at the first glimpse of the Space Lord. The visitor did indeed look ill and confused; correspondingly, Kuat’s amiability increased without conscious effort on his part.
“Xanadu extends you welcome, oh Lord bin Permaiswari. Xanadu and all that Xanadu contains is yours.” The traditional greeting sounded strange in his rough tones. The Space Lord saw before him a huge man, tall and correspondingly heavy, muscles gleaming, his longish reddish hair and beard showing magenta in the light of the moons and mirrors.
“It gives me pleasure, Governor Kuat, merely to be in Xanadu, and I return the planet and its contents to you,” replied Lord Kemal bin Permaiswari.
Kuat turned and gestured toward his two companions.
“This is Madu, a distant relative, and so my ward. And this is Lari, my brother, son of my father’s fourth wife—she who drowned herself in the Sunless Sea.” The Space Lord winced at Kuat’s laugh, but the young people appeared not to notice it.
Gentle Madu hid her disappointment and greeted the Lord with becoming modesty. She had expected (hoped for?) a shining figure, a blazing armor, or perhaps simply an aura which proclaimed “I am a hero.” Instead she saw an intellectual-looking man, tired, looking somehow older than his substantive thirty years. She wondered what he had done, how this man could be the talk of the Instrumentality as the savior of human culture in the battle of Styron IV.
Lari, because he was a male, knew more of the facts of the battle than Madu, and he greeted Lord bin Permaiswari with grave respect. In his dream world, second only to dancers and runners of easy grace, Lari looked up to intelligence. This was the man who had dared to pit himself, his living mind, his intellect against the dread fear machines…and won! The price was evident in his face, but he had WON. Lari placed his hands together and held them to his forehead in a gesture of homage.
The Lord reached out in a gesture which won Lari’s heart forever. He touched Lari’s hand and said, “My friends call me Kemal.” Then he turned to include Madu and, almost as an afterthought, Kuat.
Kuat did not notice the near omission. He had turned and was walking toward what appeared to be a huge lump of yellow and black striped fur. He made a peculiar hissing sound, and at once the lump separated into four enormous cats. Each cat was saddled, and each saddle was equipped with a holding ring, but there was no apparent means of guiding the cats.
Kuat answered Kemal’s question. “No, of course there’s no way to guide them. They’re pure cat, you know, unmodified except for size. No underpeople here! I think we’re the only planet in the Instrumentality that doesn’t have underpeople—except for Norstrilia, of course. But the reasons for Norstrilia and Xanadu are at the opposite ends of the spectrum. We enjoy our senses…none of that nonsense about hard work building character like the Norstrilians believe. We don’t believe in austerity and all that malarkey. We just get more sensual pleasure out of our unmodified animals. We have robots to do the dirty work.”
Kemal nodded. After all, wasn’t that what he was here for? To allow his senses to repair his damaged mind?
Nonetheless, the man who had faced the fear machines with scarcely a tremble did not know how to approach the cat which was designated as his.
Madu saw his hesitation. “Griselda is perfectly friendly,” she said. “Just wait a minute till I scratch her ears; she’ll lie down and you can mount.”
Kemal glanced up and caught an expression of disgust in Kuat’s eyes. It did not help in his search for self-mending.
Madu, oblivious to Kuat’s displeasure, had coaxed the great cat to kneeling position and smiled up at Kemal.
Kemal felt something like pain stab him at her glance. She was so beautiful and so innocent; her vulnerability wrenched at his heart. He remembered the Lady Ru’s quotation of an ancient sage: “Innocence within is armor without,” but a web of fear settled on his mind. He brushed it aside and mounted the cat.
As he lay dying nearly three centuries later, he remembered that ride. It was as thrilling as his first space jump. The leap into nothingness and then the sudden realization that he was traveling, traveling, traveling without volition, with no personal control over the direction his body might take. Before fear had the opportunity to assert itself it was converted into a visceral, almost orgasmic excitement, a gush of pleasure almost too strong to bear.
Lank dark hair flying in his face, the Lord bin
Permaiswari would have been unrecognizable to the Lords and Ladies who gathered at the Bell on Old Earth in time of crisis. They would not have recognized the boyish glee in a face which they were accustomed to seeing as grave and preoccupied. He laughed in the wind and tightened his knees against Griselda’s flanks, holding the saddle ring with one hand as he turned back to wave at the others who were somewhat behind.
Griselda seemed to sense his pleasure at her long effortless bounds. Suddenly the ride took on a new proportion. Overhead the ornithopter which had brought the Space Lord to Xanadu passed by on its way back to the spaceport. At once Griselda left the pride and leapt futilely after the ascending ornithopter. As she attempted to bat at it, Kemal was forced to use both hands on the holding ring in order not to fall off ignominiously. She continued to leap and bat hopelessly in its direction until it disappeared from sight. Then she sat down to lick herself and, inadvertently, her passenger.
Lord Kemal found her sandpaper tongue not unpleasant, but he winced as her fang brushed his leg. At some distance Kuat sat laughing. Madu’s face, even in the distance, showed concern, however, which cleared as the Lord waved to her. Lari, confident in the powers of the hero of Styron IV, was gazing dreamily at the distant city.
Slowly now, Griselda joined the rest of the pride, her attitude apparently one of some embarrassment at having performed such a kittenish prank when she had been entrusted with the welfare of the distinguished visitor.
In the distance the domes and towers of the city gleamed nacreous in the soft shadowless light of the moons and mirrors. Lord Kemal had his sense of unreality reinforced. The city looked so beautiful and so unreal that he had the feeling it might vanish as they approached. He was to learn that the city and all it stood for were all too real.
As they neared the city walls, Kemal could see that the stark whiteness of the city from afar was an illusion. The shimmering white walls of the buildings were set with gemstones in intricate patterns, flowers, leaves, and geometric designs all heightening the beauty of the incredible architecture. In all the worlds he had visited Lord Kemal had seen nothing to equal this city; Philip’s palace on the Gem Planet was a hovel compared to these buildings.
Formal gardens with fountains and artificial pools separated the buildings. Shrubbery in an artful plan which gave the appearance of being natural was planted here and there. Suddenly the Space Lord realized another strange aspect of the planet: he had seen no trees.
Dogs yipped at them from safe distances as they entered the city, but this time Griselda refused to be tempted. Now that she was in the city she had assumed a certain dignity; it was as if she wanted to forget her previous dereliction. She headed straight for the palace steps.
Lord Kemal could feel the muscles of Griselda’s haunches tighten as she prepared to hurdle up the steps and through the open door. It would be a tight squeeze for the two of them. Fortunately Kuat reached the steps first and hissed his command to her. Kemal could feel her reluctance. She would much have preferred bounding up the steps, but she obeyed. She lay belly down, back feet crouched, front feet stretched forward; the Lord Kemal dismounted easily but with reluctance, a regret almost as great as Griselda’s that the ride was over. He reached over to scratch the cat’s ears.
Madu smiled approvingly. “That’s right. When you make friends with your cat, she’ll obey you much more readily.”
Kuat grunted. “I have my own way for making them obey if they get too many ideas of their own.” For the first time the Space Lord noticed a small barbed whip tucked into Kuat’s belt, to which Kuat pointed now.
“Kuat, you wouldn’t,” Madu protested. “You never have…”
“You haven’t seen me,” he said. Then as her face clouded he added as if reassuringly; “Up to now I haven’t needed to. But don’t think I wouldn’t.”
Kemal noticed that Kuat’s reassurance was not quite adequate. A gauze of doubt or wonder seemed to obscure the open brightness of Madu’s face. Once more the Lord Kemal felt a stab of fear for her and once more dismissed it.
It was her innocence he feared for. He found that her eyes reminded him of D’irena from the ancient days of his true youth—before he had been made wise in the ways of mankind, before he had been made to know that underpersons and true men could not mix as equals. D’irena with the fawnlike grace, the soft gentle mouth, the innocent eyes of the doe she was derived from. What had happened to her after he left? Did her eyes still hold that candid ingenuousness which he saw mirrored in Madu’s eyes? Or had she mated with some gross stag and had some of his grossness transferred itself to her?
He hoped, remembering her fondly, that she had mated with a fine buck who had given her does as gentle and as graceful as she was in his memory. He shook his head. The fear machines had stirred up all kinds of strange memories and feelings. Absently, he petted the cat.
Servants came forward to unsaddle the cats. With a renewed start the Space Lord realized that these were true men, not underpersons, doing work, and he remembered Kuat’s statement about enjoying the sensuality of animals. There was something else, something he had almost thought of, but he could not quite think…it was as if he tried to catch the tail of an elusive animal as it disappeared around the corner.
Led by Kuat and trailed by Madu and Lari, the Lord Kemal threaded his way through a maze of rooms and corridors. Each seemed more amazing than the last. The only time the Space Lord had seen anything similar had been on videotapes—a reconstruction of old Manhome as it had been before Radiation III. The walls were hung with tapestries and paintings based on reproductions of those from Earth; couches, statues, rugs of color and warmth brought here by Xanadu’s founder, the original Kahn. Yes, Xanadu was a return to pleasure of the senses, to luxury and beauty, to the unnecessary.
Kemal felt himself beginning to relax in this atmosphere of enchantment, but the spell was broken when, upon reaching the main salon, Kuat unceremoniously flung himself into the nearest couch. As he stretched full length, he vaguely waved a hand to the rest of the party.
“Sit down, sit down,” he said. Candles flickered and glowed; low tables and couches stood about invitingly.
For the first time since the introduction on the Space Lord’s arrival Lari spoke spontaneously. “We welcome you to our home,” he said, “and hope that we can do all possible to make your visit enjoyable.”
Kemal realized that he had paid little attention to the youth because he had been so absorbed in new impressions, and (he had to admit if to himself) the girl Madu had fascinated him. Lari, in his own way, was as physically perfect as Madu. Tall, slender, lightly muscled, a golden boy. And, like Madu, he had a curious air of openness, of vulnerability. It seemed strange to the Lord Kemal that these two should grow up so innocent under the guardianship of a man as coarse and boorish as Kuat seemed.
Kuat interrupted his reverie. “Come! The dju-di!”
Madu immediately moved toward a table on which rested a copper-colored tray with silvery highlights. On the tray sat a dual-spouted pitcher of the same material and eight small matching goblets. A lid covered the top of the pitcher. As Madu picked up the pitcher, Kuat gave one of the grunts which the Space Lord was finding increasingly distasteful.
“Just be sure you put your thumb over the right hole.”
Her answering tone was indulgent but as nearly scornful as Kemal could imagine her being. “I’ve been doing this since childhood. Is it likely I’d forget now?”
In after years it seemed to Kemal bin Permaiswari that this night was one of the important turns that his life took in its convoluted passage through time. He seemed removed from events as they occurred; he seemed a spectator, watching the actions, not only of the others but of himself, as if he had no control over them, as if in a dream…
Madu knelt gracefully and placed a thumb over one of the two holes at the top of the pitcher. Candlelight played over the light silvery dusting of powder which covered the entire area of her bare skin. As she poured the reddish liqu
id into four of the little goblets, Kemal noticed that even the nails of her small hands were painted silver.
Kuat raised his goblet. The first toast by the rules of politeness should have been to the guest of honor, or at the very least to the Instrumentality, but Kuat went by his own rules.
“To pleasure,” he said, and drank the contents with one gulp.
While the rest of the party slowly sipped their drinks, Kuat roused himself to pour another cupful. He had swallowed the second cupful before the others had finished their first.
The Lord Kemal savored the taste of the dju-di. Unlike anything he had ever tasted before, neither sweet nor sour, it was more like the juice of pomegranate than any other flavor he had tasted, and yet it was unique.
As he sipped he felt a pleasant tingling sensation pervade his body. By the time he had finished the cup he had decided that dju-di was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Instead of muddling his wits like alcohol or conferring nothing but sensual pleasure like the electrode, dju-di seemed to heighten all his senses, his awareness. All colors were brighter, background music of which he had been only dimly aware was suddenly piercingly lovely, the texture of the brocaded couch was a thing of joy, perfumes of flowers he had never known overwhelmed him. His scarred mind rejected Styron IV and all its implications. He felt a glow of comradeship, momentarily even toward Kuat, and suddenly felt he had come against a Daimoni wall.
Then he knew. His inability to sense or to read the other minds on this planet did not lie within himself or any defect incurred through the fear machines but was directly connected to Kuat, to some nonauthorized barrier which Kuat had erected. The barrier was imperfect, however. Kuat had not been able merely to keep his own thoughts from being read; he had had to set up a universal barrier. This was obvious from the fact that Kuat showed no indication that he could sense the Space Lord.
“And what,” thought Kemal, “do you have to hide? What is so much against the laws of the Instrumentality that you have had to set up a universal mind barrier?”
The Rediscovery of Man - The Complete Short Science Fiction of Cordwainer Smith - Illustrated Page 79
