X

A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows by Poul Anderson. Chapter 17, 18, 19, 20

diamond clear. Yet behind him purred the gravity motors which helped his

weighted troopers along. He reminded himself that they hugged the ground

to present a minimal target, that the space they crossed was

terrifyingly open, that ultimate purity lies in death. The minutes grew

while he covered the pair of kilometers. Half of him stayed cat-alert,

half wished Kossara could somehow, safely, have witnessed this wonder.

The foundations took more and more of the sky, until at last he stood

beneath their sheer cliff. Azure, the material resisted a kick and an

experimental energy bolt with a hardness which had defied epochs. He

whirred upward, over an edge, and stood in the city.

A broad street of the same blue stretched before him, flanked by dancing

rows of pillars and arabesque friezes on buildings which might have been

temples. The farther he scanned, the higher fountained walls, columns,

tiers, cupolas, spires; and each step he took gave him a different

perspective, so that the whole came alive, intricate, simple, powerful,

tranquil, transcendental. But footfalls echoed hollow.

They had gone a kilometer inward when nerves twanged and weapons snapped

to aim. “Hold,” Flandry said. The man-sized ovoid that floated from a

side lane sprouted tentacles which ended in tools and sensors. The lines

and curves of it were beautiful. It passed from sight again on its

unnamed errand. “A robot,” Flandry guessed. “Fully automated, a city

could last, could function, for–millions of years?” His prosiness felt

to him as if he had spat on consecrated earth.

No, damn it! I’m hunting my woman’s murderers.

He trod into a mosaic plaza and saw their forms.

Through an arcade on the far side the tall grave shapes walked,

white-robed, heads bare to let crests shine over luminous eyes and

lordly brows. They numbered perhaps a score. Some carried what appeared

to be books, scrolls, delicate enigmatic objects; some appeared to be in

discourse, mind to mind; some went alone in their meditations. When the

humans arrived, most heads turned observingly. Then, as if having

exhausted what newness was there, the thoughtfulness returned to them

and they went on about their business of–wisdom?

“What’ll we do, sir?” Vymezal rasped at Flandry’s ear.

“Talk to them, if they’ll answer,” the Terran said. “Even take them

prisoner, if circumstances warrant.”

“Can we? Should we? I came here for revenge, but–God help us, what

filthy monkeys we are.”

A premonition trembled in Flandry. “Don’t you mean,” he muttered, “what

animals we’re intended to feel like … we and whoever they guide this

far?”

He strode quickly across the lovely pattern before him. Under an ogive

arch, one stopped, turned, beckoned, and waited. The sight of gun loose

in holster and brutal forms at his back did not stir the calm upon that

golden face. “Greeting,” lulled in Eriau.

Flandry reached forth a hand. The other slipped easily aside from the

uncouth gesture. “I want somebody who can speak for your world,” the man

said.

“Any of us can that,” sang the reply. “Call me, if you wish, Liannathan.

Have you a name for use?”

“Yes. Captain Sir Dominic Flandry, Imperial Navy of Terra. Your

Aycharaych knows me. Is he around?”

Liannathan ignored the question. “Why do you trouble our peace?”

The chills walked faster along Flandry’s spine. “Can’t you read that in

my mind?” he asked.

“Sta pakao,” said amazement behind him.

“Hush,” Vymezal warned the man, his own tone stiff with intensity; and

there was no mention of screens against telepathy.

“We give you the charity of refraining,” Liannathan smiled.

To and fro went the philosophers behind him.

“I … assume you’re aware … a punitive expedition is on its way,”

Flandry said. “My group came to … parley.”

Calm was unshaken. “Think why you are hostile.”

“Aren’t you our enemies?”

“We are enemies to none. We seek, we shape.”

“Let me talk to Aycharaych. I’m certain he’s somewhere on Chereion. He’d

have left the Zorian System after word got beamed to him, or he learned

from broadcasts, his scheme had failed. Where else would he go?”

Liannathan curved feathery brows upward. “Best you explain yourself,

Captain, to yourself if not us.”

Abruptly Flandry snapped off the switch of his mind-screen. “Read the

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Categories: Anderson, Poul
curiosity:
Related Post