[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

interest you occurred to match). Then partly to give myself something to do, thereby driving away the
insanity that threatened, and partly because I was genuinely interested in finding out what I could of the
Savanti, I set out on a little detective work.
The Star Lords, the Everoinye, seemed to me to be above inquiry.
The Savanti, those mortal but superhuman men and women of Aphrasöe the Swinging City, seemed
subject to investigation.
I went hunting Alex Hunter.
 Rather, since he was dead on a Valkan beach on far Kregen, decently buried by me with two prayers
said over him, it was his memory I hunted, what there was to know about him in the minds of those who
had known him.
Money matters were carried on for me by the descendants of that man, whose name I will not mention,
whom I had met on the field of Waterloo. I was now remarkably rich. It meant nothing, of course; it still
means nothing compared to the greater glory of Kregen. But my Earthly wealth gave me the means to
carry out my search.
The trail began in Paris and took me to New York. After a month of inquiries, of checking public
records, of following up leads in school and college and U.S. Army records, I felt I had indeed
discovered the Alex Hunter who had been employed by the Savanti in their crusade to cleanse the world
of Kregen.
As a grim old Army major said:  He was posted missing, Mr. Prescot. There was Indian trouble. There
always is. But we had high hopes of the boy. You say you knew him?
I dissimulated; but the picture became clearer. Alex Hunter had been a young shavetail whose career
seemed marked for high command. Eager, alert, efficient, he had made a first-class officer. I remembered
his fair hair, those keen blue eyes, the supple strength of him. How he had been recruited by the Savanti
nal Aphrasöe, I did not know. But he had been taken to Kregen, and no doubt had passed his test down
the River Aph with flying colors, as I remembered, as I remembered! Then the Savanti had appointed
him a tutor, given him a genetic language pill, trained him in the martial arts. They had no doubt explained
to him in full their plans for Kregen, plans at which I could only guess, for the Savanti had booted me out
of the paradise that was Aphrasöe, the Swinging City.
What I did know without doubt was that Alex Hunter had appeared on a beach in Valka, charged by
the Savanti to rescue a shipwrecked party of political prisoners from their guards. He had been doing
well. He had fought gallantly; as he had said of my fighting, so I could say of his, that he had fought
merrily. But his lack of experience had betrayed him. A cruel javelin had smashed its steel head through
his body.
Either the Savanti themselves, employing me out of desperation, or the Star Lords with their infinitely
more devious ways, had flung me onto that beach to save the situation. I had done so. And I had won my
island of Valka. But the strangeness of walking a New York street, and of seeing all the wonders of
mid-century America growing before my eyes, made me ponder long and long the reasons that most
surely existed for all that the Star Lords did.
The Savanti, I felt sure, wished to make Kregen a civilized world. This is a laudable object.
Just what the Star Lords wanted, I did not know. But it was clear their plans were long-term. The
people I rescued from death at the behest of the Star Lords would be growing up now, and their fates
must influence the fate of the world.
Here, on this Earth, how many people who vanished had been taken to Kregen by the Savanti to join
their great crusade?
And I, Dray Prescot, had been found wanting and had been kicked out.
Thoughts such as that would send the claws of madness striking through to me. Was I to remain for the
next thousand years, left here to rot on Earth, to destroy myself in futility on the world of my birth?
I left the Western frontier, where I had felt strangely at home in the harsh conditions so similar to many of
the Kregan frontiers, and I took a southeasterly swing and was in Virginia when the blue radiance took
me  blessedly  back to Kregen.
Opening my eyes, I saw that I was naked. That was normal. I think the Star Lords knew of that tickling
feeling I had that I would think the less of them if they provided me with a handy sword, or shield, or
helmet, when they brought me to Kregen to untangle the latest problem hurled at me.
The problem I had to sort out this time was so absurdly simple that I was sure the situation had been
contrived by the Star Lords merely to bring me once more to Kregen. Maybe, I thought, as I stood up
and stretched in the glorious mingled opaline light, maybe they required me to be here on Kregen.
Certainly, facing a little four-armed Och, for all that he carried the small round shield of the Och, and a
spear, and a thraxter belted to his waist, was not of the order of problems I had previously encountered.
The Och was a slaver and he was driving a heavily chained coffle of Djan girls to the beach where a low
two-masted vessel waited. Now the Djangs are an especial joy to me, as you know. They are apim, just
like Homo sapiens, but they have four arms apiece. They are the most ferocious fighters. Their girls are
exceptionally beautiful. They are much prized. They do not travel very far from their own country of
Djanduin, which is situated in the southwest of Havilfar.
I am the King of Djanduin.
The ten girls would have given the Och guards a nasty time if they came too close, and the Ochs were
driving them along well out of arms reach. I thumped the nearest Och over the head. An Och has six
limbs, the central pair used indiscriminately as either arms or legs; a lemon-shaped head with puffy jaws
and lolling chops; and he is not above four feet tall. Agile, determined fellows, Ochs are cunning and dirty
fighters, and used over many parts of Kregen as mercenaries  although, to their constant annoyance,
they are not ranked in the top class. Consequently, they may be hired more cheaply. I had had
experience of Ochs. The second one flew at me now and I slid his spear and thumped him, too. I picked
up his spear, flung it at the third Och. The fourth and fifth hurled their spears and then rushed with their
thraxters low, their little shields low, and daggers in their middle limbs dual-purpose hands.
I swirled a trifle with the dead Och s thraxter, caught their blades, swirled some more, and then  flick!
flick! they were down and I could run across to the girls.
One of them, whose name I afterward discovered was Rena, recognized me. She yelled. Her shout was
one of absolute joy.
 It is the King! It is Notor Prescot, the King of Djanduin!
Seldom have I had a homecoming to Kregen like that!
The chains could be unlocked with keys taken from the Ochs. Rena said:  Those other Djan-forsaken
Ochs will be upon us. She snatched up a thraxter.  By mother Diocaster! Let us serve them finely
chopped into a Herrelldrin hell!
 Are there other slaves already aboard, Rena?
 Aye, Majister.
  Then we must free them, also. I had to speak cleverly.  Where is your home, Rena? I could not ask
with cunning if she expected help, and thus gather some idea of where we were, for she might think I was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]