Wolff looked through the grass for his beamer but could not find it.
Vala did not move from where she stood. She said, “Why didn’t you use your knife?”
“I would have if it had been necessary. But I want him alive.
We’re taking him along with us.”
Her eyes widened. “In the name of Los, why?”
“Because he has certain abilities we may be able to use.”
Theotormon groaned and sat up. Wolff kept an eye on him but continued his search. Finally, he said, “All right, Vala. Hand it over.”
She reached within her robe and brought out the beamer. “I could kill you now.”
“Do it then, but don’t waste my time with idle threats. You don’t scare me.”
“All right. Have it then,” she said fiercely. She raised the beamer and for a moment Wolff thought he had goaded her too far. After all, the Lords were proud, far too proud, and overly swift to react to insult.
But she pointed the beamer carefully at Theotormon, and a white rod of light touched the end of one flipper. Smoke curled up; burnt flesh stank. Theotormon fell backwards, his mouth open, his eyes staring.
Vala, smiling, reversed the weapon and handed it to Wolff.
He swore and said, “There was no reason but viciousness for that, Vala. Viciousness and stupidity. I tell you, he might have been the difference between death and life for us.”
She walked—strolled—over to the huge wetness and bent over to look at him. She raised the flipper, the end of which was charred.
“He’s not dead—yet. You can save him, if you want to. But you’ll have to cut off the flipper. It’ll be cooked halfway to his shoulder.”
Wolff walked away without further comment. He recruited a number of Ilmawir to help him get Theotormon on the island. Hoisted by four bladders, Theotormon rose up through a hatch. There he was pulled to one side and stretched out on the floor of a “brig.” This was a cage with very light but steelstrong bars of laminated bladder-shells. Wolff did the surgery himself. After forcing a drugged drink, provided by the Ilmawir wizard down Theotormon’s throat, he examined a number of saws and other surgical tools. These were the property of the wizard, who took care of both the spiritual and physical welfare of his people.
With several saws fitted with the teeth of a sharklike fish, Wolff cut off the flipper just below the shoulder. The flesh went quickly; the bones offered enough resistance to dull two saws. The wizard thrust the red-hot end of a torch against the huge wound to seal off the blood vessels. Moreover, the wizard applied a salve to the burn, assuring Wolff that it had saved the lives of men who had been burned over half their bodies.
Vala watched the entire operation with a slight sneer. Once, her gaze met Wolff’s as he looked up from his work, and she laughed. He shuddered, although she had a beautiful and striking laugh. It reminded him of a gong he had once heard while voyaging down the Guzirit river in the land of Khamshem on the third level of the planet of his own universe. It had golden notes to it, that was the only way to describe the laughter. The gong had probably been of bronze, hanging in the dark adytum of an ancient and crumbling temple of jade and chalcedony, muffled by stone and the green density of the jungle. It was bronze, but it gave forth golden vibrations. And this was how the laughter of Vala sounded, bronze and golden and also with something dark and smoldering in it.
She said, “He’ll never be able to grow a new flipper unless you keep peeling off the scab. You know regeneration won’t take place if there’s scar tissue.”
“You let me worry about those things,” he said. “You’ve interfered enough.”
She sniffed and went up the narrow corkscrewing staircase to the maindeck. Wolff waited a while. After it seemed that Theotormon was not going to die of shock, he also went up onto the deck. The Friiqan adoptees were being trained for their new duties, and he watched them for a while. He asked Dugarnn how the great gas-plants were fed, since it seemed to him that the nutrient would weigh much. There were at least four thousand of the bladders, each as large as the cell in a zeppelin.
Dugarnn explained. A growing bladder did not have to be fed. But when it matured, it died. The skin would become dry and hard but was specially treated to preserve flexibility and expandability. New colonies of gas-generating bacteria were placed therein. These had to be fed, but the amount of gas they produced was very high in proportion to the amount of food they needed. This was mainly the heart-stuff of growing plants, although the bacteria could work on fish, meat, or decaying vegetable matter.
Dugarnn left him, saying there was much work to be done. The shadow of the moon passed, and full daylight returned. The island began to tug harder against the ropes. Finally, Dugarnn decided that it was buoyant enough to cast loose. The stone anchors were drawn up, and the ropes around the fronds cut. The island drifted past them and slowly rose. It settled at a hundred and fifty feet for a while. Then, as the gas continued to fill the bladders, it rose to five hundred feet. Dugarnn ordered the bacteria food to be reduced. He inspected the entire island, a trip which took several hours, and returned to the bridge. Wolff went down to see how Theotormon was coming along. The wizard reported that his patient was doing even better than could be expected.
Wolff climbed up a flight of steps to the top of the walls. Here he found Luvah and one of his cousins, Palamabron. The latter was a well-built and handsome man, darkest of the family. He wore a conical hat with hexagonal rim, both decorated with emerald-green owls. His cloak had a turned-up collar in back and epaulets in the shape of lions couchant. The fabric was a green shimmering stuff with a pattern of trefoils pierced with a bleeding lance. His shirt was electric-blue and piped with white skulls. A great belt of leather was bossed with gold and set with diamonds, emeralds, and topazes. His baggy pants were white-and-black striped and calf-length. The boots were of some pale soft red leather.
He made a striking and handsome figure, of which he was well aware. He nodded at Wolff’s greeting, then left. Wolff, watching him, chuckled. He said, “Palamabron never did care too much for me. I would worry if he did.”
“They won’t do anything as long as we’re on this aerial island,” Luvah said. “At least, they won’t unless this search takes too long. I wonder how long it will take? We could float forever over these seas and never happen across the gates.”
Wolff looked at the red skies and the green-blue oceans and at the island they had left, seemingly no larger than a penny now. White birds with enormous wings and yellow curved beaks and orange-ringed eyes flew over them and ululated shrilly. One settled down not far from where they stood and cocked its head and fastened an unblinking green eye upon them. Wolff remembered the ravens of his own world. Did some of these great birds have a slice of human brain within their unbird-like-sized craniums? Were they watching and listening for Urizen? Their father had some means of observing them, otherwise he would not be getting full enjoyment from this game.
“Dugarnn told me that the abuta is pushed always by the same wind. It takes it around and around this world of water in a spiraling path. Eventually, it covers every area.”
“But the island that has the gates may always be on a different course. Always out of sight.”
Wolff shrugged and said, “Then we won’t find it.”
“Perhaps that is the way Urizen wants it. He would like us to go mad from frustration and boredom and slit each others’ throats.”
“Perhaps. However, the abuta can change course when its people so wish. It’s a slow process, but it can be done. Also …”
He was silent for so long that Luvah became uneasy. “Also what?”
“Our good father has placed other creatures here besides man, birds, a few animals, and fish. I understand that some of the islands, water and air alike, are populated by rather vicious flying creatures.”
Vala called from below, saying that their meals were prepared. They went down to eat at one end of the chief’s table. Here they heard what Dugarnn w
as planning. He was ready to thrust the abuta off course. Somewhere to the southwest was another floating island, that of their most bitter enemies, the Waerish. Now that the Ilmawir had Wolff and his beamer, they could join battle for the last time with the Waerish. It would be a glorious victory for the Ilmawir; the Waerish would be swallowed up by the ocean forever.
Wolff agreed, since there was little else he could do at that moment. He hoped that the Waerish would not be found, since he wanted to conserve the power packs of the beamer for more important matters.
The bright red days and pale red nights that followed were many and unvaried. They were, at first, however, busy for Wolff. He learned all he could about the management of the abuta. He studied the mores of the tribe and the idiosyncrasies of each member. The other Lords, with the exception of Vala, showed little interest in any of these. They spent their time at the bow, looking for the island that was supposed to contain the gates of Urizen. Or they complained to the abutal or to each other. And always one Lord was insulting another, although in a way that barely avoided an outright challenge from the insulted.
Wolff became more disgusted with them as each day passed. Except for Luvah, none was worth saving. They had an arrogance that displeased the abutal. Wolff warned the Lords against this many times, saying that their lives were dependent upon the natives. Should these be too antagonized, they were likely to dump the Lords overboard. His advice was taken for a while, and then the lifelong belief in their near-divinity would take hold of the Lords again.
Wolff spent much time on the bridge with Dugarnn. It was necesary to do this to smooth out the ridges of ill-feeling his brothers and cousins raised. He also went into the glider-training school, since the abutal could not fully give a man admiration and respect unless he had won his wings. Wolff asked Dugarnn why this was so. To Wolff, the gliders seemed more of a hindrance and unnecessary expense and trouble than anyting else.
Durgarnn was astonished at the question. He groped for words, then said, “Why, it’s just because … it is. That’s all. No man is a man until he makes this first solo landing. As for your implications that gliders aren’t worth the trouble, I deny those. When the day comes that we find an enemy, you will eat your words.”
The next day, Wolff went up in a glider. He got into a tandem seat instruction ship, which was hauled aloft at the end of a cable borne by two great bladders. The craft rose upward until the abuta was a small brown oval below. Here the swifter upper winds carried them along until they were several miles ahead of the island. Then the instructor, Dugarnn, unlocked the lift mechanism. The bladders were then hauled down back to the abuta with a slim but strong cord, to be used again.
As Jadawin, Wolff had flown many types of craft. On Earth, he had gotten a private pilot’s license qualifying him to fly single-motor craft. He had not flown for many years now, but he had not forgotten all his old skills, either. Dugarnn let him handle the controls for a while as they spiraled downwards. He tapped Wolff’s shoulders and nodded approvingly, then took the controls over. The glider came in upwind, sideslipping at the last moment and landing on one side of the broad deck.
Wolff took five more lessons, during the last two of which he made the landings. On the fourth day, he soloed.. Dugarnn was very impressed, saying that most students required twice that time. Wolff asked what happened if a soloing student missed the abuta. How could the islanders pick him up?
Dugarnn smiled and lifted his hands, palms up, and said that the unfortunate was left behind. No more was said about that, although Wolff noted that Dugarnn had insisted that the beamer be left on the island when Wolff had gone up. Wolff had placed it in the care of Luvah, whom he did not think would misuse it. Not to the extent the others would, anyway.
Thereafter, Wolff went bare-chested, as befitted a man who wore a painted iiphtarz upon his chest. Dugarn insisted that Wolff also become a bloodbrother. On hearing this, the other Lords scoffed.
“What, Jadawin, son of the great Lord Urizen, direct descendant of the Los himself, be brother to these painted ignorant savages? Have you no pride, brother?”
“Brother me no brother, brothers,” he replied. “These people have at least not tried to slay me. That is more than I can say for any of you except Luvah. And they are not to be despised by the likes of you. They are masters of their own little worlds. You are homeless and trapped like dull-witted fat geese. So do not be so ready to scorn me or them. You would be far better off if you would condescend to make friends with them. The time may come when you will need them very much.”
Theotormon, his flipper pink and half-grown out now, was squatting in the inch-deep pool. He said, “The whole accursed lot of you are doomed; long may you scream when Urizen finally closes the trap on you. But this I will say for Jadawin. He is twice the man any of you are. And I wish him luck. I wish he may get to our beloved father and exact vengeance from him, while the rest of you die horribly.”
“Shut your ugly mouth, you toad!” Ariston cried. “It is bad enough to have to look at you. My stomach wrings itself out when I see you. To have to hear you, you abomination, is too much. I wish that I were in my own lovely world again and had you at my feet and in chains. Then I would make you talk, monsterling, so fast your words would be a gabble for mercy. And then I would feed you inch by inch to some special pets of my own, oh, beautiful little pets.”
“And I,” Theotormon said, “will pitch you over the side of this floating island some night and will laugh as I watch you flailing at the air and hear your last scream.”
“Enough of this childish bickering,” Vala said. “Don’t you know now that when you quarrel among yourselves you delight the heart of our father? He would love to see you tear each other apart.”
“Vala is right,” Wolff said. “You call yourselves Lords, makers and rulers of entire universes. Yet you behave like spoiled and evil brats. If you hate each other, remember that the one who taught you this horrible hatred, and who now has set the stage for your death, still lives. He must die. If we have to die ourselves in making sure of his death, so be it. But at least try to live with dignity and so dignify your deaths.”
Suddenly, Ariston strode towards Wolff. His face was red, and his mouth was twisted. He towered over Wolff, though he was not as broad. He waved his arms, and the saffron robes, set with scarlet and green imbrications, flapped.
“I have put up with enough from you, detested brother!” he howled. “Your insults and your insinuations that you are better than us now because you have become less than us—one of those animals—have enraged me. I hate you as I have always hated you, hated you far more than the others. You are nothing—a … a … foundling!”
With this insult, the worst the Lords could conceive. for they could think of nothing worse than not to be of the true lineage of Lords, he began to draw his knife. Wolff bent his knees, ready to fight if he had to but hoping he would not. It would look very bad for the Lords if they brawled in front of the abutal.
At that moment, a cry arose from the gondola on the prow of the island. Drums began to beat, and the abutal dropped what they were doing. Wolff caught hold of a man running by and asked what the alarm was about.
The man pointed to the left, indicating something in the sky. Wolff turned to see an object, dark and fuzzy agaist the red dome of the sky.
CHAPTER SIX
Even as Wolff ran towards the bridge, another object appeared. Before he had reached the gondola, he saw two more. They made him prickle with uneasiness and a sense of strangeness. He could not identify the reason for this at first. But before he reached the gondola, he knew. The objects were not drifting with the wind but were coming in at right angles to it. Something was propelling them.
On the bridge, Dugarnn told Wolff what he wanted of him. He was to stay by his side until ordered otherwise. As for the other Lords, now was the time for them to earn their keep. Dugarnn had heard them boasting of their prowess. Let them put their swords where their mouths were—or words to
that effect.
Communication during a battle was by drum. Orders to those inside the island, stationed on the ports on the sides or the hatches at the bottom, were transmitted by another means. Throughout the abuta was a network of thin narrow pipes. These were fashioned from the bones of the girrel fish and had the property of transmitting sound quite well. The abutal could use voice over the girrel-bones up to seventy-five feet. Past this distance, a code was rapped out by a tiny hammer.
Wolff watched Dugarnn issue orders, which were performed swiftly by the well-trained people. Even children were carrying out duties within their capabilities and so relieving adults for more difficult and dangerous posts. To Vala, who had come up to the bridge, Wolff said, “We so-called divine Lords could learn much about cooperation from these so called savages.”
“No doubt,” Vala replied. She looked out across the oceans and said. “There are six now. What are they?”
“Dugarnn mentioned the Nichiddor, but he had no time to tell me what they are. Be patient. We’ll know soon enough. Too soon, I suspect.”
The gliders had been fastened to the lift-bladders. The pilots got into the cockpits while the “ground” crews fitted the explosive bladder-bombs to the wings. Then the wizard, clad in robes and a mask, passed along the gliders. He carried a double-ankh with which he blessed the pilots and their craft. Between each glider, he stopped to shake the double ankh at the UFO and hurl maledictions. Dugarnn became impatient but dared not hurry the wizard. As soon as the last of the twenty airmen had been touched by the ankh and prayed over, Dugarnn gave the signal. The bladders with their white-winged cargoes were released. They soared up and up until they had attained a height of a thousand feet above the island.
Dugarnn said, “They’ll release themselves as soon as the Nichiddor nests get within range. Los guard them, since few will get through. But if the nests can be destroyed …”
“There are eight now,” Wolff said. The nearest was a half-mile away. Ball-shaped, it had a diameter of about three hundred yards. The fuzzy appearance had been caused by the many uneven projections of plants. These grew out to conceal the gas-bladders that formed irregular concentric rings. On the surface of the spheroid nest were hundreds of tiny figures. An aerial dung-ball, Wolff thought.
The World of Tiers Volume One: The Maker of Universes, the Gates of Creation, and a Private Cosmos Page 26