VANCE turned from this bewilderingly unreal scene and saw, to his right, a narrow, uneveruroadway winding up a ragged, mountainous slope and disappearing into a gulley-like cleft in the highest of the jagged ridges. The ground under him was composed of a black, glinting, shale-like substance and the distant mountains seemed to be of the same material.
His mind reeled dizzily as he studied the barren, bewildering terrain. There were no answers to the questions that hammered at his brain.
What was this place? How had he come here? And the gloriously beautiful golden girl? Had she been real, or was she only the product of his disordered imagination?
Frowning, he climbed to his feet. Carefully he explored his arms and legs. Except for a general feeling of impotent helplessness, he seemed to have received no damage from his transition to this mysterious place.
As he stood there, turning over in his mind the insoluble problems that his predicament presented, he heard a clattering noise in the distance.
The sharply reverberating sound shattered the stillness with startling abruptness. Vance wheeled and saw that two human figures had appeared from one of the narrow gashes in the mountainous slope.
They were mounted on huge, awkward, four-legged beasts, and it was the thundering of hoofs on the hard, rocky ground that had caused the strident clattering noise.
The two men rode toward Vance at an easy lope. They were attired in flame-colored garments with gaudy green sashes and trappings. Their broad shoulders were covered with metal plates that glinted dully in the light of the blazing green suns.
When they were within a dozen feet of Vance they reined their mounts to a stop. One of the men wore a full dark beard that covered the lower half of his powerfully cast face. His eyes, coal-black and coal-hard, glowered at Vance from under low, beetling brows.
The other man was smaller than his companion and his face was cleanshaven, revealing thin, finely molded features and a well-shaped, but weak jawline. His eyes were pale and large and they did not meet Vance’s squarely.
The thick-shouldered rider with the dark beard and hard, boring eyes spoke first, and his voice was a heavy guttural growl.
“Who are you?”
VANCE stiffened, for the words had been spoken in English. And, for some reason, it seemed incongruous to hear that language spoken in these wild, barbaric surroundings.
The two men, he saw, were studying him carefully, almost anxiously. There was something so intent and watchful in their gaze that he instinctively set himself on guard. He saw the two riders exchange looks, then the smaller one, with the thin narrow face, turned to him.
“You do not need to be alarmed,” he said. His voice smooth and quiet. “We are friends. I am known here as Numari.” He waved a slim, negligent hand toward his companion. “This is Rakar, my Grand Agent.”
Vance listened carefully to the man’s words. They were precise and correct, but they were spoken with a peculiar accent, as if the speaker had little experience with the language.
Both of the men were regarding him intently, as if anxious to determine the effect of the speech on him.
Vance acknowledged the introduction with a nod. He realized that he would learn more by keeping his mouth shut and letting them do the talking.
The smaller man, Numari, glanced about the small clearing and then his eyes shifted to the vast dark depths of the forest. There was a worried, apprehensive frown on his face when his pale eyes returned nervously to his companion, the man he had designated as Rakar.
Rakar growled something unintelligible from the depths of his bull-neck and swung to face Vance.
“You haven’t said how you came here,” he said. There was no friendliness in his gruff, snarling voice.
“You haven’t asked me,” Vance said. His lean brown face hardened. He didn’t like the other’s tone and he wasn’t bothering to hide his feelings.
Numari raised a chiding hand and shot a swift, warning glance at Rakar before turning a pleasant face to Vance.
“Naturally,” he said, smoothly, “your presence here is somewhat intriguing. You must pardon our curiosity, but there are things we are anxious to know. It is true, is it not, that you come from the great dimension of movement; where machines of all type and description move over the land, fly through the air and burrow under the ground and sea?”
“Yes,” Vance said, puzzled, “that is true.” He wondered fleetingly how the other knew. And he wondered again where and what this place was.”
“Ah!” smiled Numari, “that is so very interesting. You see, we know certain things about your world and we are very interested in learning more. We have, as you doubtless have noticed, learned your language, but there are other important things we would be happy to know. First, we would be greatly obliged if you would tell us how you came here.”
HE LEANED forward as he spoke and his thin, edged features were touched with a faint smile. But the smile did not go as far as his eyes. They remained pale and emotionless, shifting slightly away from Vance’s direct stare.
“I’m not sure myself,” Vance answered. Without exactly knowing why, he was stalling for time, trying to find out what Numari was driving at in his oblique, subtle manner.
“What, then, of Laonara?” Rakar demanded. But he did not address this question to Vance. His hot gaze was on his slender companion, Numari, and there was a controlled and bitter anger in his harsh voice.
Numari glanced warningly at him. Vance caught the swift expression of displeasure that accompanied the look.
“Rakar,” Numari said to Vance, “speaks of Laonara, a young girl, who has been known to frequent this spot on occasions. Perhaps you have seen her?”
Vance kept his face expressionless. He could tell from the tense looks on the faces of the two mounted men that there was more than a casual significance behind Numari’s question. He felt as if he were finally seeing part of the design that lay behind Numari’s interrogation.
“A girl?” he repeated. He frowned and shook his head puzzledly.
“Yes?” Numari said. “You have seen her?” Excitement had crept into his soft voice.
Vance realized, now, that it was to his own advantage to say nothing of the girl. Although he couldn’t imagine how, that information might be a trump card later,
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re the only persons I’ve seen here.” That much was strictly true. “What does this girl look like?”
“She is tall and fair,” Numari answered. “You would remember her if you saw her.”
“We are wasting time,” Rakar growled. He swung the head of his mount impatiently about. “We must be going.” He added something in a tongue unintelligible to Vance. The last sentence was spoken directly to Numari and seemed to be a sharp command.
Numari nodded slightly and turned to Vance.
“Since you have arrived so unexpectedly in our midst, we would be very happy to offer you such accommodations as we have at our disposal.”
VANCE realized that he was helpless to do anything but accept their offer. As yet, he knew nothing of this place to which he had so mysteriously come. And of the golden girl of the picture, he was equally in doubt. If it hadn’t been for Numari’s questions about such a girl, he would have been ready to believe that the entire experience had been the result of his imagination.
“All right,” he said. He wondered, then, what he was heading for. And he wondered what their reaction would have been had he refused to accompany them.
“Excellent,” Numari said. He reined his shaggy, cumbersome beast closer to Vance and extended his hand. Vance clasped his wrist and swung himself up to the back of the animal. He was surprised by the steel-like strength in Numari’s arm.
When he was settled, Numari dug heels into the flanks of the great beast and it lumbered ahead, following Rakar’s mount.
The hoofs of the swaying animals struck a ringing, clattering sound from the rock-hard ground as they cantered toward the gulley from which the two riders h
ad originally appeared.
They rode through the narrow gash in the ridge and entered a plateau of barren, rocky desolation. The black, depressing landscape spread endlessly away on both sides, an uninviting scene of grim, brooding lifelessness. Ahead, a half-mile or so, Vance judged, another sloping ridge rose into the air, outlined sharply against the boiling red of the sky. When their mounts had plodded across the barren plateau and reached this second ridge, Rakar clattered on ahead and disappeared through a passage in the slope. Numari reined to a stop.
“The delay will not be long,” he said.
They waited for several minutes before Rakar appeared again, followed by a half-dozen men similarly mounted. These men were more of Rakar’s type than Numari’s. Strong and solid, with heavy dark beards, they sat their steeds with careless ease as they galloped forward. They wore plain dark clothing with white sashes, and Rakar’s brilliant green and red raiment stood out dramatically against their drab background.
“A few of my good men,” Numari murmured. “We will proceed now.”
THE new arrivals studied Vance with bold, impassive glances before wheeling their mounts and riding on ahead of the party. Rakar rode directly before Numari. They followed the ridge for a number of miles. It was impossible to estimate how long they had been riding for the great blazing green suns seemed to be fixed and unmoving. Vance studied them carefully from time to time, but their position was the same as when he had first seen them.
Finally they reached the end of the long sloping ridge which had flanked their course. The party turned and began a slow cautious descent of a descending slope that led downward to an immense spreading valley, in which Vance could see the shapes of vast, alabaster-white buildings stretching for miles in every direction.
Numari reined their mount to a stop at the top of the slope and swept his arm in a wide circle over the vast panoramic scene.
“Welcome to Bondira,” he said sardonically. An amused grin touched his lips. “Here, I rule.”
Vance studied the majestically sprawling city with interest. The structures were built at a uniform height, but there were no geometric considerations in the lay-out of streets and grouping of edifices. They were jumbled about like carelessly arranged blocks, without reference to size or position. In the light of the green suns the white buildings gleamed with a pale weird translucence that cast a gleaming corona about each structure.
“It is pretty, is it not?” Numari murmured. Rakar and the others of the party were half-way down the slope, Vance noticed. Numari swung their mount about.
“Let us go down,” he said.
CHAPTER III
Bondiral
WHEN they reached the main section of the sprawling city, Numari dismounted and tossed the reins of his mount to a young boy who was standing outside one of the larger, gleaming white buildings.
Vance had seen few inhabitants in the streets of the strange city. On several occasions he had seen men moving slowly along the wide streets, but there was something beaten and furtive about their appearance that puzzled him.
Numari led him through the arched, open doors of the building into a wide, softly-lighted foyer. Here, Vance saw more men, swarthy, bearded giants, of the type that had accompanied them to the city. These men were standing at various stations apparently on guard duty. Two of them stepped forward and swung open a huge door as Numari and Vance strode across the floor of the foyer.
Numari nodded briefly to the men, and they bowed their heads and placed their right hands over their hearts as he passed.
The door closed silently behind them as they entered a large, luxuriously furnished hall, lighted by softly glowing tapers in each of the room’s four corners.
Couches lined the laminated walls, covered with soft, lustrous skins and over the gleaming, translucent floor were scattered thick-woven rugs of gray and white patterns.
The arched ceiling was covered with an intricate tracery of design that seemed to form changing shapes as the flickering luminations played over them.
In the center of the room, facing the massive doors through which they had entered, was an elevated dais, gleaming with gilded metal. The seat and back of the throne were covered with tinted furs. A number of lower chairs were grouped about this central dais.
Numari seated himself on the dais and carefully arranged his green and red robes over his knees. There was a cryptic smile hovering about his lips as he waved Vance to one of the chairs grouped about the dais.
“Please, be seated,” he smiled. “You must be tired after your trip.”
Vance sensed that the words were not merely polite; they expressed a deliberate command. There was, he noticed, a definite change in Numari’s attitude since they had reached the city. The anxiousness and worry had dropped from him and his smile was tinged with a sardonic irony as he studied Vance.
Vance remained standing.
“I’m more comfortable this way,” he said drily.
NUMARI settled back on his ornate dais. His fingers toyed with tassels on the arms of the chair.
“As you prefer,” he said. “There are several things I want to discuss with you, but I will wait until you are rested and refreshed. Primarily I am curious to know more of the workings of your vast mechanistic civilization. I find such things very fascinating. I’m sure you won’t mind acting as my tutor for a while.”
“I’m not so sure,” Vance said. He realized suddenly that he was in an extremely peculiar position. Whether it was a precarious position, he couldn’t tell. That would depend on Numari and his designs. But he did realize that he knew nothing about where he was or how he had come to this amazing land; and that without Numari’s approval there would be little chance of his ever leaving.
Numari leaned forward. His thin face was quite expressionless, but his cold eyes were narrowed suspiciously.
“Just what do you mean,” he said.
“I have to return to my own country as soon as possible,” Vance said quietly. “I am needed there. I can’t stay here.”
Numari studied him thoughtfully for a moment and then he smiled slowly. Leaning back in his throne he chuckled softly.
“I understand,” he said. “Naturally you are anxious to return to your own—er—land. And we are more than anxious to do what will please you. But there may be some slight delays in arranging your transportation.” His lips widened in a smile. “Yes, transportation might be something of a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Vance asked. “Why should there be any difficulty?”
“I will explain everything to you tomorrow,” Numari said, smiling easily. “Now you need food and rest. I am sure you will find things quite comfortable here while you are with us.” He raised a slender hand in the air. The gesture was obviously a signal, for a small door at the opposite end of the room opened and an elderly, white-haired man entered.
“Yes?” he said respectfully.
WITHOUT turning his eyes from Vance, Numari said, “Take this man to a room here in my palace. Bring him food and see that he is comfortable. Do you understand, Aki?”
“Yes,” the elderly man said quietly. “Aki,” Numari said to Vance, “is one of the few slaves in my kingdom who understands the language you speak. How he picked it up is a mystery, even to me. That is why I have arranged for him to act as your personal servant while you are with us. I am sure that he will be able to satisfy all of your needs.”
“You seem to be arranging a rather permanent set-up,” Vance said thoughtfully. “You really do expect me to spend quite a while here, don’t you?” Numari looked pained.
“It grieves me to think that the thought of staying a while with me is repugnant to you. I had hopes that you might grow to like it here and remain with us, of your own volition, for a pleasant stay. But,” he sighed, “that is obviously not to be. We will discuss everything on the morrow, however. In the meantime everything here is at your disposal. Enjoy yourself.”
It was an obvious dismissal.
V
ance hesitated an instant and then he glanced at the servant, Aid, who was holding the door open for him. He shrugged and sauntered toward the open door. Numari did not turn his head, but Vance could see the amused smile on his face and the winking lights of mirth in his eyes.
Vance felt, as he walked through the open door and into a dimly lit corridor, that he was walking straight into trouble. But there was no other course for him to take. Everything he had encountered in this strange land had been bewilderingly confusing, and until he learned something of the place, it would be sheer folly to take a step on his own.
What was Numari’s purpose in keeping him here? There was no answer to that question. There were no answers to any of the tormenting questions that his very presence here raised.
In a lifetime of adventurous living Vance had looked many times into the dark face of the unknown, but always there had been something palpable to fight, to hit, to shoot, to put his hands on. Now there was nothing but bewildering mystery, further complicated by Numari’s sly innuendos and by the meaningful glances exchanged between the burly Rakar and Numari, when they had questioned him about the golden girl.
WHAT had they called her?
Laonaral!
What was Numari’s interest in this girl? Was this Laonara, they mentioned, the same glorious, viking-proud golden girl of the picture?
Vance shook his head despairingly. He was beginning to doubt even the evidence of his own senses. His entire memory of the girl in the picture might have been no more than a mirage, an hallucination or some queer optical illusion.
The corridor door closed with a slight click. The sound brought him back to reality.
The servant, Aki, stepped in front of him and bowed deferentially.
“Will you follow me please?”
Vance noted the old man’s stumbling, halting speech; but he also noted the calm, clear blue eyes, and the proud, seamed features of the man. In spite of his years his carriage was erect and straight, belying the snow-white hair that crowned his noble head like a halo.
Collected Fiction (1940-1963) Page 129
