Before The Golden Age - A SF Anthology of the 1930s

by Edited By Isaac Asimov

  “Moka!” I shouted with joy. It was indeed Moka Alii, Lord Chamberlain of Kalu’s court.

  The old nobleman stared at me in unbelief for a moment and then a red flush stole over his haughty face. Pointedly he turned his back on me.

  “Moka!” I cried again. “Don’t you remember me? I am Courtney Siba Tam, your prince; Courtney Sibama, if Olua spoke the truth when he said that Kalu Sibama was no more.”

  Moka turned and faced me coldly, entirely ignoring my outstretched hand.

  “I recognize you, Courtney,” he said in a biting tone, carefully avoiding giving me any title, “to my regret, but my lips will never touch the hand of a traitor, though I be boiled in oil for my refusal!”

  “Moka!” I cried in real anguish, for the coldness of the first friend I had made in Ulm cut me to the heart. “It is not true. I am no traitor to Ulm. I was delayed in my task and was on my way to Ulm with aid when I learned that it had fallen. I surrendered to the Kauans and hastened here to bring what aid and comfort I could to those of my subjects who still lived. Never have I deserted Ulm and never has the thought of her welfare been absent from my thoughts.”

  “Traitor! Doubly dyed traitor!” said Moka slowly and bitingly, “and now, it seems, liar to boot! Well, I know the plan with which you left Ulm. You planned to aid her enemies and to depose Kalu Sibama, your lord, and reign in his stead. Thankful I am that Kalu, who foolishly loved you, died before he knew of your treachery.”

  “I am no traitor, Moka,” I cried, “and who says I am, lies in his throat! Hold up, old friend,” I exclaimed as he sprang at me, “I am not hitting at you but at the one who told you this pack of lies. Where did you learn what you thought were my plans?”

  “Your smooth tongue, which deluded Kalu Sibama, will not avail you, Courtney,” he said coldly. “Cover your face in confusion and learn that your treachery was told by Lamu Siba, whom you tried to corrupt and failed.”

  “Lamu!” I gasped—”Did Lamu return to Ulm?”

  “He is here and he has told of the plans which you broached to him to destroy Kalu and of how he fled from you when he learned of your baseness. Your treachery is proven indeed, Courtney.”

  “So he got back to Ulm safely,” I said. Somehow I had always had an idea that he must have missed the city as I did and thought that he and Awlo were wandering somewhere in the submicroscopic world. The news that he had reached Ulm and had managed to turn my friends against me was a bitter blow for it could mean only one thing, that Awlo was dead. Had she been alive, he could never have told that tale and been believed. With a sinking heart I put my next question.

  “What of Awlo?” I asked.

  I reeled back as Moka struck me a blow on the mouth.

  “Dog!” he cried. “The name of a Sibimi of Ulm must not be uttered by the lips of a perjured traitor! To complete your confusion, I will tell you that the Sibimi of Ulm is in Kaulani.”

  “Said she that I was a traitor?” I demanded bitterly. Moka paused.

  “No,” he admitted slowly, “she did not, but it is unnecessary. Lamu Siba has told enough. We men of Ulm need no word from her to damn you further.”

  My heart leaped with joy at the thought that Awlo was alive and in the same city with me, and while her silence was inexplicable, I knew that she must have some good reason for it. Awlo knew that I was no traitor to Ulm and I would have staked my life on her love and loyalty.

  “Listen, old friend,” I said to Moka, “it was never your way to condemn a man unheard in his own defense on the testimony of his enemies. You have known me as your lord and as your friend for years; have you ever known me to speak an untruth?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Then listen, old friend, while I tell you the truth. Lamu Siba is the traitor, not I.”

  Rapidly, but in great detail, I told him all that had happened since the fatal day when I left Ulm in my adjuster with Awlo and Lamu to bring back die guns and ammunition with which I hoped to rout, if not destroy the besieging Mena. I told how Lamu had learned to operate the adjuster, how he had stolen my princess and had fled with her, leaving me desolate. I told of my struggle to get material and of the months of feverish work while I had constructed a duplicate of my machine and gone in pursuit. Last, I told of how I had landed with my guns and ammunition and had met Olua and how I had surrendered to the Kauans in order to be brought to Kaulani.

  * * * *

  Moka’s face grew graver as my story progressed. My sincerity almost convinced him, but for months he had thought me a traitor. The struggle was evident in his face. He wanted to believe and yet could not. When I had ended my tale and again held out my hand to him, he hesitated, but another of the auditors, a young officer named Hiko, who had at one time been my personal aide, had no doubts.

  “My sword to your hand, Courtney Sibama!” he cried, as he dropped on one knee and pressed my hand against his forehead and then to his lips. “My life is yours to command!”

  His enthusiasm carried the day and in a moment, not only Moka, but the rest of the group were on their knees professing their loyalty to me.

  “Forgive me for doubting you, Courtney Sibama,” cried Moka with tears in his voice, “but the words of a Siba carry weight.”

  “Where is my Sibimi?” I demanded.

  “Alas, my lord,” said Moka, “she is a prisoner in the palace of Kapioma Sibama, Lord of Kau. I have seen her twice but none of us has ever spoken to her.”

  “Did you not speak to her in Ulm?” I asked.

  “No, my lord. She or Lamu never returned to Ulm. Four months after you left us, Ulm fell to a night assault of the Mena. Had you been there, it would never have happened, but discipline was relaxed after you left and they kept watch poorly. Besides, the Mena had never before attacked at night.

  “The city was given over to slaughter, but a remnant of the royal guard gathered about the palace of the Sibama and we held them at bay for eight days. At the end of that time they fired the palace and we fought our way out hardly. Both Kalu and the Sibimi were killed and most of the guards, but a few of us held together and fought our way toward the waste places where we hoped the kahumas, who were said to rule, would either defend us or kill us with honor.

  “The Mena ringed us about and mile by mile our numbers lessened. There were but a hundred and twenty left and many of them sore wounded when the pressure of the Mena suddenly ceased and we saw them flying like leaves before a gale. We heard a strange noise overhead and looked up and saw a multitude of strange birds flying over us. Some of these birds lit near us and disgorged men with many arms who took us prisoners and dragged us into the interior of the birds. We thought they were kahumas. When they were in the birds they divested themselves of all their arms but two and we prepared for death. They did not kill us but saved us alive and brought us here to Kaulani.

  “We had been here about a month when we learned that an Alii of Kau had planned to rescue us. We rejoiced but his plot failed and he had to flee for his life. Two months later Lamu Siba was brought to use as a slave. He told us a tale of treachery on your part and of how he and Awlo Sibimi had fled from you but had been captured in the waste places of Kau. Him we foolishly believed, the more because Awlo Sibimi was a prisoner in the palace of Kapioma and none of us could speak with her.

  “Aside from the fact that we are slaves and not free men, we have no complaint. The kahumas have treated us well and mercifully, although we are forced to labor, and dire is the punishment of one who shirks. We hope that our condition will be improved, for Kapioma means to make Awlo his Sibimi as soon as the present one is killed.”

  “Is killed?” I echoed.

  “Yes. The kahumas have a barbarous custom in Kau. A Sibimi is chosen and in one year, unless she is with child, she is slain and a new one is chosen. The present Sibimi dies in a month. Thinking you dead, Kapioma meant to make Awlo Sibimi of Kau. Hark! Here come the others from work. Hide behind us for a moment, Courtney Sibama, until I tell them of your presence.”


  I knew the love of the men of Ulm for dramatic scenes and I stepped behind the ranks of my followers. The door opened and in trooped a hundred men, all attired alike, in the coarse white garb which is the Kauan mark of a slave. Moka stepped forward and held up his hand for silence.

  “We harbor in our midst a traitor!” he cried dramatically. “One who is a traitor to his Sibama, a worse traitor to his Sibimi and a traitor to Ulm. What is the punishment for such a one?”

  “Death!” came a cry from the men of Ulm. Lamu stepped forward and confronted Moka.

  “Death is his punishment and it shall be meted out when he is known,” he said. “Name this traitor.”

  This was the answer that Moka had hoped for. He drew himself up to his full height and pointed his finger dramatically at the prince.

  “Thou art the man!” he thundered. “On your knees and beg for mercy from Courtney, Sibama of Ulm!”

  Taking my cue from his words I stepped forward into full view. Lamu started and turned pale as he saw me, but an ominous growl rose from the rest.

  “What means this, Moka?” demanded one of them. I recognized the man as Hama Alii, a noble of Ulm and one of the Council of Lords. He was, if my memory did not play me false, a distant cousin of Lamu’s. “Courtney is a traitor, as we all well know. To him shall the sentence of death be meted out.”

  A murmur of assent came from the ranks of the Ulmites behind him and my handful of followers closed up behind me.

  “Slay him!” cried Lamu pointing at me. The crowd surged forward.

  “Hold!” I cried and they paused for a moment. “Every man is entitled to a hearing. Let me tell my tale and then let the Council of Lords judge my tale. One of royal blood may be tried only by that tribunal.”

  My point was well taken and it appealed to the justice of the men and a cry of assent went up. Briefly, and as eloquently as I could, I retold my story. It made an impression but there was no loyal aide to turn the tables in my favor this time and at the end of my speech there was silence for a moment.

  “It is a lie!” cried Lamu suddenly. “Kill the traitor and make an end of it.”

  There was a murmur, half of assent and half of dissent and I played the same card again.

  “How many of the Council of Lords of Ulm are here?” I asked.

  “Hama Alii and I,” replied Moka.

  “A matter touching the royal family of Ulm can be decided only by the Council of Lords,” I insisted. “Neither Lamu Siba nor I can be tried by any lesser tribunal. Let Hama and Moka decide.”

  * * * *

  There was a roar of assent to my proposition and the two nobles retired into a corner to talk the matter over. For half an hour they argued the matter back and forth. Knowing Hama’s relation to Lamu, I had rather expected a deadlock and that was what eventually happened. The two came forward and Moka, as the elder, announced their decision.

  “When the Council of Lords is evenly divided, the decision rests with the Sibama,” he said, “but here the Sibama is an interested party and it would not be fair to let him decide the matter, for traitor or not, Courtney is Sibama of Ulm until the Council of Lords declare the throne vacant. Both Courtney Sibama and Lamu Siba have spoken and the voice of each sounds as that of a true man in our ears. It is our decision that Courtney Sibama and Lamu Siba be each given the honors of their rank and both held blameless, until the matter can be laid before the Sibimi for decision. In the meantime, the disputants shall swear friendship to one another for the time being, and we will all live in harmony as becomes brothers in misfortune.”

  Lamu and I looked speculatively at one another. After all, there was nothing that we could do except agree with the decision, which was manifestly a just one. I knew that once Awlo spoke, the question would be settled and he doubtless hoped that she would get no chance to speak or else he had another idea in the back of his head. At any rate, he spoke first.

  “The Prince of Ame defers to the Council,” he said. “As Moka Alii has spoken, so shall it be.”

  “So shall it be,” I echoed.

  As Lamu and I approached one another for the ceremony of swearing temporary friendship, there came an interruption. The door opened and there stood Neimeha with a detachment of guards.

  “Courtney Sibama,” he said, “Kapioma Sibama requires your presence in his throne room.”

  With a shrug of my shoulders I followed him out of the slaves’ quarters and to the ground floor of the palace. The building was a beautiful one, much more ornate than Kalu’s palace in Ulm, but what it gained in beauty, to my mind at least, it lost in grandeur. At the door of the throne room we were challenged, but a word from Neimeha opened a way for us.

  The scene was very similar to one of the dozens of Kalu’s audiences I had taken part in. On all sides blazed the colors of the nobles and ladies, their flashing gems set off by the sombre black worn by the guards. The throne room was long and impressive, with a dais at the head bearing four thrones, the central two of which were occupied. Kapioma Sibama of Kau was a tall, slender man of about my age. He had a splendid breadth of forehead but his slanting eyes, like those of all the Kauans, were mercilessly cold and cruel. The first thing, however, that attracted my attention was the sadness of the face of the Sibimi who sat beside him. She was a slim young girl and despite her yellow skin, was beautiful, but the sadness of the ages was in her tragic eyes. Suddenly I remembered what Moka had told me of the customs of Kau and I realized that she saw death before her in a few short weeks. I squared my shoulders and advanced to the foot of the dais. Slave or prisoner, condemned to death, I might come from that interview, but as Sibama of Ulm I would go to it. I looked Kapioma squarely in the eye and he returned my gaze with an expressionless face.

  “Courtney of Ulm,” he said in a guttural voice, “Neimeha tells me that the wonders we have heard of you are true and that your subjects in Ulm looked on you as a powerful kahuma because you knew more of nature and her laws than they dreamed of. You are no barbarian of Ulm, fit only to be a slave, but a man of intelligence and learning. He tells me that you are able to navigate a flyer.”

  I bowed without speaking.

  “I am duly sensible of the misfortunes which have thrown you from your high position, where you might with propriety have sat by my side, and it is not my desire to add to the burdens or sorrows of a man of royal rank. Since you are able to take your part in this community as an equal with my nobles, it is in my mind to create you an Alii of Kau and attach you to my court.”

  Again I bowed deeply in silence.

  “Neimeha tells me further that you know ways of sending messages through the air from the power house to a ship many miles away.”

  “I do, sire, it is a relatively simple matter.”

  “I am glad to hear it, for I believe that the art will be of much use. To the rank of Alii of Kau I will raise you, but in return I will ask of you one small favor.”

  “I will be glad to put my knowledge at your service,” I replied.

  He frowned slightly at my answer.

  “It is not that; that I took for granted. The favor I ask of you is of a different nature. You were married in Ulm to Awlo, daughter of Kalu Sibama. Since his death she is now Sibimi of Ulm. In a month or so,” here he paused and shot a glance at the Sibimi, who quailed under it as though under a lash, “there will be no Sibimi in Kau and it is my intention to elevate the daughter of Kalu to that exalted rank in lieu of the throne she has lost. The favor I ask of you is that you divorce her.”

  “Divorce Awlo? Never!” I cried.

  “You had better consider well before you decide so,” he said with a frown. “As the wife of an Alii, I could not marry her without first getting rid of you. Were I to order your execution, I would be no better off, for the widow of an executed criminal could not be elevated to the rank of Sibimi. However, under the laws of Kau, a slave may not legally have a wife. Unless you consent, I will degrade you to the position of a slave, which will effectually dissolve th
e tie which binds her and leave her free to mount the throne by my side. It is immaterial to me, but it means much to you. You may have a day in which to decide. Either you become an Alii of Kau and divorce her, or you become a slave of Kau and I will marry her in either event.”

  “It doesn’t take a day or a minute to decide that, Kapioma Sibama,” I replied, “I will never divorce her.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “At any rate, I tried to be kind to you,” he replied. “Neimeha, this man is a slave of Kau. Clothe him as such and take him to the slaves’ quarters. He will work in the laboratory of the power house and show us a method of sending messages to our ships, which he boasts is so simple. If he refuses, or fails, flay him alive.”