by Erika Fennel
Then she stood up, allowing the setting sun to outline her. It was only a minute before a savage saw her and gave a shout. Still Eldyn stood in plain sight, and soon thirty Puvas armed with clubs and spears were racing toward the stranger who had dared invade their territory. To their primitive minds stranger and enemy were the same.
Eldyn waited until they were near. Then she thought, and a moment later smiled to herself as she passed undetected within a few feet of the tribeswomen seeking her blood. Her peculiar Earth mentality, coupled with the control she had learned in the Thin World, made her completely invisible to the Puvas. But she knew well it was a trick which would never work against mentalities that were more nearly her equal.
Beside one of the huts she found a crudely made clay pot of water. She drank her fill and threw the remainder of the water over a Puva man. He screamed. She shattered the pot at the feet of another man who ran to investigate. Then she trotted away, leaving the village in turmoil behind her, trusting the wind-whipped sands to obliterate her footprints.
All night long she plodded steadily eastward toward the Fortress of Syn. Near morning she threw herself down on the sand, this time making not the slightest effort at concealment.
* * * *
The whistling ships appeared with the grey of dawn, heading for the Puva encampment. The first passed high and to the south, but as the second approached Eldyn opened her eye, lurched to her feet, staggered a few steps. She did not look up as the sound of the ship changed. Then she let herself sink limply to the sand.
The ship skidded to a stop nearby and through a slitted eye Eldyn watched two women emerge. Men—mutant Puvas of the Faith—and not Luvans. She allowed herself a sigh of relief before feigning unconsciousness.
One of them rolled her over with a booted toe.
'Hey, Thordaan,' she said to her companion. 'It's the crippled Outworldling Highness Syn ordered us to watch for.'
'But how could this have—'Thordaan began.
'Those Puvas!' The other mutant sounded disgusted. 'They saw this thing and when she hid from their clumsy searching they sent that false alarm that the Rebels had crossed the mountains. Superstitious fools!'
Thordaan nodded and examined Eldyn critically. 'Bah! Who'd want such an atrocity as a slave? Not me! Let's blast it here and not dirty our ship.'
'Blast it and you'll carry lash scars,' the other warned. 'That thing is—was—an Earthwoman.'
'All right. Throw it in and let's get back,' Thordaan agreed sourly.
'And don't give it food or water either,' the other reminded. 'Highness Syn, or perhaps Lesser Highness Marion may have other ideas.'
Something inside Eldyn died at the casual mention of Lesser Highness Marion. The words did something Krasno's hints and the open accusations of the Forest People had failed to do. They convinced her, brought into sharp focus all the half-thoughts and doubts she had so resolutely pushed aside.
* * * *
The ship landed and Eldyn was lifted, half-dragged across the courtyard of the Fortress and into Syn's audience hall. There she was given a final shove, tripped at the same instant, and made involuntary prone obeisance to the dark-haired man on the throne. She had just time to notice with a start how closely he resembled Marion.
Syn looked down in questioning contempt. Eldyn could feel his mind probing tentatively at her and deliberately made incoherent thought-pictures of burning sands and torturing thirst, of howling savages with blood lust in their eyes, of the trembling hell of the Mountains that Move. She invented scenes of being hunted through an endless towering forest by murderous people. To set up a complete mind block would only have called attention to her ability.
Syn's mind displayed increasing interest at those pictures, so she took her thoughts back to Earth and reproduced the nightmarish, multiform and utterly horrible and meaningless images of morphine and delirium which had haunted her in the hospital. She had the satisfaction of feeling his mind withdraw in fastidious disgust.
'Her mind is gone, Highness Syn?' a hulking, much-decorated warrior asked.
Syn nodded. 'Curse those Rebels. She is of no value in this condition.'
Wyr nodded. 'Could her mind be restored?'
'Not worth it,' Syn decided. 'It would be a tedious task, I fear. A third Closed World mind for the Faith would have made the victory simpler, but no matter.' He shrugged.
'The Rebels still die under the new weapons?' he asked his military chief.
'Yes, Highness Syn,' Wyr responded. 'It will end soon now. Shall I-?' She made a snapping motion with her hands.
Syn shook his head. 'Not so quickly, Wyr.' He raised his voice slightly. 'Marion, do you want this thing?'
Eldyn resisted the temptation to turn, for that would have betrayed that she understood every word.
Marion's voice came clearly from behind her.
'No!' he declared, his tone indicating revulsion at the sight of her maimed ugliness and the grime that clung to her blood-flecked skin.
Then quickly he changed his mind.
'For the Faith, Highness Syn—yes. She was always a fool, but with proper care perhaps enough of her mind can be restored to hasten The Night.'
'Granted.' Syn sounded pleased at Marion's devotion to the Faith. 'This idiot creature could not possibly be El-ve-dyn. But have your slaves take it out of my sight. It sickens me.'
Eldyn heard the boy she had once loved give an order, felt herself lifted and carried. A few minutes later, still feigning semi-consciousness, she was deposited on a soft bed.
'What do you want with this thing?' It was the big woman Syn had addressed Wyr, and she sounded suspicious.
Marion answered calmly. 'As an unexpected aid to our plans.'
'How?'
'Victoria hates me since I chose you. Now Syn has taken a fancy to her. He will use her against us—if he suspects. And we both know Syn is dangerously clever. But I hope we can use this one—against Syn through Victoria.'
'But can you be sure-?'
'This one will do whatever I say.' Marion laughed confidently. 'But remember, Wyr dearest, for a while Eldyn must be my only love. Now leave me alone with her.'
The big woman muttered an oath.
'Jealous? Don't be stupid, Wyr. This should be a real surprise for Syn.'
* * * *
Eldyn lay motionless, the slow, unsteady rise and fall of her breast the only sign of life. But her brain was alert. She heard the tantalizing sound of water being poured. A vessel was held to her lips and water dribbled into her mouth. It took all her control to keep from gulping greedily, and she had not had nearly enough when Marion took the glass away.
Once more there was water, this time mingled with perfumed soap on a soft cloth as he washed the dirt from her face. Once she had delighted to have this man near her, but now it was all she could do to suppress a shudder. Whenever his hands touched her skin she could feel that he was Of the Faith in a manner possible only through his own free will.
He snipped the tattered remains of her clothing away and applied a soothing ointment to her cuts and scratches. She thought she understood why he did not leave such ministrations to his slaves. He wanted her first waking thoughts to be of his love and solicitude. Her lips almost thinned angrily.
She waited until he was growing impatient before she opened her single bloodshot eye. And then she held her face blank and empty.
'Eldyn,' he whispered softly, in English. 'Eldyn, it's me, Marion. The boy who loves you.'
'Marion?' Her voice was thick and hoarse, and that was not acting. Thirst had left her throat cracked and dry.
'Poor Eldyn!' His tone was soothing, caressing. 'What did those nasty Rebels do to you?'
Eldyn twisted her face in an idiotic grin. She giggled insanely, and when he tried to touch her drew back like a frightened animal. She muttered vaguely of horrors.
'Poor Eldyn,' he said again, and kissed her. With her increased sensitivity it was all she could do to keep from retching as h
is lips touched hers. But she clung to him with her one shaking arm as though begging his protection.
At last she lay back and gradually her trembling subsided.
Marion bent over her. 'Victoria is here,' he said slowly and distinctly. 'You remember Victoria. She tried to kill you. I tried to save you. Now you must get well and kill Victoria. You hate Victoria, just as you love me.'
Eldyn whispered obediently. 'Yes, I must kill Victoria!'
She found herself wondering why normal people so often speak to invalids and cripples as though they were feeble-minded. She knew full well that if her body had been whole and well Marion would have been more careful and Syn would have been much more thorough in his examination. This tendency to discount the mentality of a cripple was particularly strong when the victim was full of irrational fears and whining self-pity. All Eldyn's hopes rested upon this simple psychological fact.
'You must sleep now, lover,' Marion crooned. He gave her a pill and a swallow of water. 'This will make you feel better.'
She let her body relax as though drifting into slumber. She could not hear his footsteps on the deep, rich carpeting but the swish of his gown and the soft opening and closing of a door traced his movements. Quickly she removed the pill from her mouth and tossed it through the open window. Sleep she needed, but drugged sleep she could not afford.
A murmur of voices came from the next room. Silently Eldyn rose and pressed one ear to the door.
Marion was speaking. 'Great Sassa! That thing clung to me like a slobbering baby. But she'll be easy enough to control, especially—'
'Careful! Want her to hear us?'
'It wouldn't matter. She couldn't understand a word. Besides I gave her a control pill.'
'But we don't want to make a mindless slave of her,' Wyr remonstrated.
'Of course not,' Marion assured his alien lover. 'She'd be useless that way. The drug will only paralyze her will so she will believe unquestioningly anything we tell her, and you can see that she does not receive the mark that would make her a complete slave of the Faith.'
'Ssh!' Eldyn heard the big warrior whisper. 'I thought I heard—'A chair creaked and there were footsteps.
Silently but with utmost speed Eldyn threw herself on the bed.
'You're nervous as an old man,' Marion complained.
Wyr's voice was deep in her throat. 'One lives longer that way when plotting against Syn,' she declared.
Eldyn was lying on her back, breathing raspingly through her open mouth. Wyr gave a satisfied grunt as she closed the door, and almost at once Eldyn had her ear to the panel again.
'Ugh! What an ugly sight! How can you stand having that thing near you?'
'When the stakes are the control of a world one can endure much,' the man said evenly. 'And it should not be for long.'
Wyr chuckled softly.
'There is one more problem,' Marion continued. 'She must be present on The Night.'
'An idiot Outworldling at an Observance! Impossible! Highness Syn would never permit it,' Wyr objected.
Marion's tone sharpened. 'Are you or are you not commander of the Forces? And aren't you clever enough to invent a story? Perhaps that a mild administration of life-essence from the Vat could restore enough of her mind to give you information on the Rebel defenses, and thus hasten The Night.'
Wyr gave a low whistle of appreciation. 'It might be arranged.'
Eldyn had heard enough, but still she had no plan. She must improvise in accordance with developments.
About failure she did not dare to allow herself to speculate. Even El-ve-dyn could fail—if she were really El-ve-dyn. And the price of failure she must keep from her mind lest it confuse her thoughts at a moment when she would need all her powers.
But now the deliberate self-torment of her body had served its purpose, and well. To carry it further would be stupid. Carefully she closed her mind against telepathic probing and prepared for sleep.
But her last thoughts were not of her own safety, not of the disheartening shock of discovering that Marion was not a prisoner but was Of the Faith, not of vengeance on Victoria. She thought instead of poor Krasno as she had last seen him, and of their unborn child—the child he had hoped would one day save Varda—doomed to die at birth. She cursed herself for a fool while her mind groped in hopeless longing.
CHAPTER IX
Gradually her body recovered. After the first day or two Marion tired of the menial tasks of caring for her wants, as she had expected, and turned them over to his mindless slaves. But first he assured her carefully that it was all perfectly right and normal, and Eldyn, supposedly under the hypnotic influence of the drug, nodded docile, unquestioning acceptance.
The slaves, two women and two girls, all carried crescent-shaped scars upon their chests, duplicates of the one marring Krasno's loveliness. One of the women had the racial characteristics of the Forest People. The other three were Puvas, evidently of the non-mutant group. Carefully Eldyn suppressed the wave of indignant sympathy they aroused in her, and almost as though she too were mindless submitted as they rubbed her abraded skin with healing ointment, fed her, brought her clothes at Marion's command, dressed her.
But Marion did not abandon her. Each day he visited her and sat near her, often touching her. His hypocritical, saccharine attentiveness was so revolting that at times it was all she could do to maintain her dazed, semi-idiotic pose. He spent the hours planting suggestions in her supposedly vacant mind—about trusting his implicitly, about obeying no one else, about preparing to exact a blood revenge from Victoria. Sassa and the Faith he did not mention.
At intervals he brought her more pills. After a terrifying experience in which he remained with her so long that a small portion of the drug dissolved in her mouth and left her unable to think for hours afterward she adopted the expedient of tucking a small strip of cloth beneath her tongue to absorb her saliva and keep the pills from melting before she could spit them out. Just one would seal her doom and that of Varda.
She was glad now of the long hours she had spent reading Krasno's scrolls. One had been a medical treatise and the mental control she had acquired in the Thin World enabled her to dilate the pupil of her single eye, slow her pulse, and counterfeit the drug symptoms exactly.
On the sixth day Wyr visited her, alone.
'Stand up!' she commanded. She spoke a queerly accented English, evidently learned from Marion.
Eldyn obeyed.
'Turn around ... Band over ... Walk to the door ... Now come back.'
Eldyn obeyed the warrior, although Marion thought he had conditioned her to take orders from no one but himself. The time for a showdown was not yet ripe.
'Turn on the lights,' Wyr directed crisply.
Eldyn hesitated.
'Turn them on!' Wyr bellowed.
Eldyn looked blank. It had been a trap, for the lights were mentally controlled. Wyr tried another trick.
'Catch!' She pulled a blast rod from its holster and tossed it. Eldyn caught it, but clumsily.
'Fire it out the window.'
The weapon differed from the blast rods of the Forest People. This one had a button, evidently a trigger, while Krasno's had been entirely controlled by thought.
Eldyn was sorely tempted. It would be so easy to whirl and burn Wyr down. But she resisted the impulse, knowing she would have only one chance and must make it really count. And perhaps the weapon was not charged. Wyr was not altogether a fool. She pretended stupid unfamiliarity with the device.
Wyr appeared satisfied that Marion had not been arranging some scheme of his own.
'We will teach you to use this weapon later,' she said. 'You will use it to kill Victoria.'
That gave Eldyn her first ray of hope, a foundation upon which to build a plan.
Wyr's eyes narrowed with jealousy as she spoke the Earthwoman's name, and Eldyn had overheard enough to understand why. Synce Victoria Schenley's arrival the officer had found herself with a formidable rival for Syn's c
onfidences and attentions. A smaller, physically weaker rival, but sly, and one who could not be removed by force without incurring Highness Syn's wrath.
* * * *
It would have been pointless to hide the recovery of her body, but the concealment of her true mental condition that the experiences she had undergone had not left her a mind-blasted dunce and that she was not even under the influence of Marion's drugs was of supreme importance. One incautious moment and she would die speedily, for the leaders of the Faith feared one thing only, El-ve-dyn, and if they suspected—
By a stroke of good fortune the room in which she was kept in luxurious captivity adjoined the larger one in which Marion and his companion held most of their conversations. Eldyn overheard everything, from endless plotting to lovemaking.
Wyr boasted endlessly, egged on by Marion's open adulation and flattery, of the deepening plight of the Rebels. The slave pits below the Fortress were filling rapidly. In fact so many Rebels were being captured that no more Puva slaves were being processed. Eldyn clenched her fist in helpless anger, and a nagging worry began to haunt her.
One thing puzzled Marion. Several of the Luvans had dropped out of sight.
'But they are not really of this plane at all,' Wyr dismissed the matter. 'They are a law unto themselves.'
Eldyn guessed what was happening. She had seen the first two Luvans sent into nothingness by a bleeding, dying boy who had paid a great price in discovering their secret.
Several score of Wyr's mutant Puva soldiers had been killed in running battles with Rebel bands, but Wyr was not disturbed. She had ample fighting women at her disposal and the troops had been indoctrinated to believe that if killed in battle they went straight to Sassa. Marion patterned his attitude upon hers.
Eldyn felt a surge of admiration for the scattered remnants of the Forest People who still fought against such overwhelming odds, even though their sullenly, suspicious minds had condemned Krasno's unborn child—her child and his—to death. She could not blame them too much for being overcautious.
One night she overheard the critical conversation which meant this forced inaction would soon end.