Mention My Name in Atlantis
Page 15
"Pay attention, all of you. We must act while Menos is off having his meal. There's no one left guarding us save for Cloddus." Quickly I explained my proposal.
"That's only another of your schemes that will come to naught," scoffed Conax.
"Can you suggest a better one? If so, you have the floor!"
"I—" Scarlet climbed in his cheeks. Naturally he fell silent.
Aphrodisia, too, looked critical.
"If I understand your outline, Hoptor, the entire first stage depends on me."
"That's quite right, sweetheart," I said, stroking her hand in my most ingratiating way. "None of the rest of us is—ah—equipped for the task."
"Well, I won't do it! You have led me into debauchery too often. I intend to reform before meeting the gods. I shall confront them as a married woman of spotless character."
"May I remind you that if my plan works, it won't be necessary to confront the gods?"
"I'd rather do that than what you're suggesting!"
"Well, Aphrodisia"—my final ploy!—"if that's your attitude, I'll just have to renege on my promise—"
"Your promise?"
"Of marriage. A promise which, until this moment, I fully intended to honor. But it's obvious you don't love me anymore. Don't respect my brain. Care nothing for my welfare—!"
"But I do, Hoptor—against my better judgment! Can't you understand that's why I want to abandon the vintage trade forever? I want to be a wife you can be proud of!"
"In order for that to happen, Aphrodisia, I must be alive and breathing. Please, dear—one last time, for all our sakes. Think of His Subservience—Conax the king—that gentle old philosopher crooning there in the corner—will you condemn them all, when to save them you need only ply your talents for a moment?"
Frankly, I am convinced that my eloquence was as responsible for her decision—more!—as my pledge to wed her; sobbing, she at last relented.
I coached her in a matter of moments.
The rest of us retired to assigned positions, leaving Aphrodisia to do her work. She pressed her contours against the bars, and uttered an attention-getting moan.
I leaned against a nearby wall, eyes closed as though I dozed on my feet. But I could observe the torchlit corridor.
After her second moan, Cloddus appeared. He stopped well clear of the bars, licking his lips and ogling Aphrodisia shamelessly.
"Something troubling you, darling?" he asked, hardly able to conceal his lust.
"Yes. Oh, yes, officer!"
"I'm not an officer, dear. But you can call me one if you want to."
"You look like you should be an officer."
"Do you really think so?"
"Oh, yes, very definitely."
I congratulated myself upon my training skills; she was acting the courtesan most convincingly—no small assignment, given the setting!
Cloddus swelled up like a toad at the flattery. Aphrodisia continued:
"I know you can do nothing to stop the execution, since the order's coming from His Exaltedness personally. But dying would be far easier to bear if I had a sip or two of wine first. In fact, I would be willing to do virtually anything for just one refreshing draft."
Cloddus turned red with excitement. "That is—do you mean—you would step down the hall to my booth? Drink the wine there, before prudish Menos returns?"
"Anything, anything!" Aphrodisia panted, overacting a bit now, in my opinion.
But Cloddus was blind to all subtleties. He sidled up to the bars and reached through, gargling some lewd endearment. At that precise moment, I sounded the call to action!
Aphrodisia seized Cloddus by the ears. Conax sprang forward and bent the fellow's arm around a bar. His Subservience thwacked the side of Cloddus' head. This rendered him unconscious instantly.
On my knees, I snagged the key from his belt, just before he collapsed like a felled tree.
"Oh!" Aphrodisia exclaimed. "I've never felt so degraded in my life! I know I have done far worse in my time. But I've already assumed the mental attitude for marriage. Hoptor, when—?"
"Hurry, Conax, now it's your turn!" I broke in, pointing to the unlocked door. "Hie yourself to those places you've memorized—you have memorized them, haven't you?"
"Yes, but I'm not accustomed to such heavy mental work. I look forward to the hour when I can call upon my thews—"
"But you can't use your thews till we rouse the populace into complete revolt! To do that, it's essential that you spread the story I gave you—Pytho plans a regime of terror and increased taxes. You must also say that, at this very hour, he's drawing up a document to place all of Atlantis under martial law. Those rumors, planted in the proper quarters, should increase the rioting fivefold. However, you must be certain that you reach the opinion leaders I have listed. Repeat the name and location of each."
"Scribblus, editor-in-chief of the Weekly Tablet. He's found at—uh—number two, Quill Lane. The Holex, supreme priest of the Atlantean High Church."
"Where?"
"At the sign of the Golden Stew."
"Pew!"
"Sorry."
"Be sure to advise Holex that Pytho also intends to overthrow the state religion, installing demon worship instead. The third of the opinion leaders is—?"
"The head of the Robbers' Guild, at number— number—gods, I've no head for this!"
"Number twelve, Rotten Row. You can do it, Conax. You must! Your speed and strength will carry you to all points in an hour. And we'll have the population up in arms for fair—provided that, in each case, you don't forget to mention my name. Only that will validate the statements!"
I hauled the cell door open.
"We'll leave Babylos to his visions. Aphrodisia, you come with me. You also, Your Subservience. I need that lethal fist for the next stage of my plan."
A shadow appeared on the stair wall. But with one tap, Mrf Qqt sent Menos to slumber. Ignoring the other prisoners demanding release, we crept upward in stealthy fashion, through a prison empty of guards.
We emerged into the great courtyard, where another downpour had indeed erupted. I sprang into action despite the bad omen, for the success of the next phase was entirely my responsibility.
* Fourteen *
From beyond the palace wall, we clearly heard the cries of mobs, and this despite the noise of the rain. I was encouraged that the seeds I had bade Conax plant would fall on fertile soil.
I gave a keen glance to all points of the courtyard. A dismal, drenched place, save for the far quarter. There, the craft of the Zorophim glowed, illuminating the darkness roundabout it. The light also revealed four sodden soldiers pacing up and down.
My plan depended upon learning the whereabouts of the Zorophimian rulers. I suspected only a person of some authority would know. This dictated a wait, until a captain of guards chanced to appear.
He kept his head down, cursing the rain roundly. As he passed our gloomy doorway, I leaped forward.
With speed born of desperation, I snaked one hand around his waist. I hauled out his sword while my other arm crooked his neck.
He was a powerful, hot-tempered rascal, and would have tossed me off like a gnat, had I not managed to impress the point of his blade into his back.
"Stand still, unless you wish to meet your ancestors tonight!"
He cursed again, but did not struggle.
"Now tell me—where is Pytho torturing the blue king and queen?"
"His Exaltedness returned them to yon vessel for the night."
"What? So soon? If you're lying, lout—"
"With that iron stabbing my guts?"
"Very well, thanks for your cooperation. Your Subservience? Your fist, if you please."
One tap and the captain slept.
I donned his armorplate—a tight fit, I must confess!—and, dragging the man's soggy cloak over my head, I whispered instructions to Mrf Qqt.
Of quick mind, he understood at once. Tugging Aphrodisia's hand, he started out to circle the c
ourtyard. I wished fervently that another person could be found to perform all these acts of derring-do; my belly was shaky as a pudding.
Had it been merely a matter of garnering medals, or risking life and limb for some collection of patriotic slogans, 1 would have been away like a shot! But self-interest works many wonders.
Thus I strutted forward into the eerie light cast by the vessel. Its side hatchway, I was pleased to see, had not yet been closed for the night.
The nearest soldier challenged me at once. Feigning arrogance, I waved him aside.
"That's all right, corporal, hold your post. Captain Bolvolio here. Secret service. Come to inspect the security of the quarters of those blue horrors. Direct order from His Exaltedness—"
Talking nonstop, I proceeded past him, straight to the incline.
"—Our new king wants to make sure that his royal guests can't escape. I'll handle the check, so at ease, at ease!"
Waving grandly, I started to walk up the incline—far harder than walking down. After two steps, I tumbled down on my backside.
A couple of the guards sniggered. I glared.
"Eyes front! Else your relatives will hear the secret service knocking on their doors at midnight!"
So saying, I seized the edges of the incline and scuttled up, crab-fashion.
As I gained the halfway point, one guard remarked to another:
"Have you ever heard of an organization known as the secret service?"
"No, I haven't heard of a Captain Bolvolio, either. And I've mustered in and around the palace for twenty-two years! Hmm, I wonder—"
Three-quarters of the way up! And scrabbling and sliding on the rain-slicked incline for all I was worth!
"Say, look at his sandals, will you? By the gods, those aren't military issue—!"
"Halt, Captain Bolvolio—if that's your name! I said halt—!"
I tumbled forward into the marvelous craft, while halloos and hammering boots sounded behind. All four guards were coming after me!
In a perfect delirium of terror, I banged at this locked door, then the next. I rushed around a bend in the corridor, and immediately encountered two blue beings. His Splendor and Her Radiance!
I believe they also recognized me. But I was not about to exchange pleasantries, as the four soldiers were pounding in pursuit. A portal presented itself on the left. I hurled myself through with all the force at my disposal.
O unhappy maneuver! At once, my feet flew out from under me—and I slid down an incline I remembered well.
Grasping at nonexistent hand holds, I struck bottom, rolled across the narrow gallery to its edge, and dropped over!
As I plummeted, I tried to make peace with the gods, begging forgiveness for my many moral errors.
Then I struck, splashed, and sank.
As the dark liquid closed over me, I realized I had fallen into a vat of the Sacred Fuel. Despite my thrashings, I continued to sink. All at once, though, my sandals touched bottom.
I kicked out mightily and—lo!—I surfaced.
Purple liquid rivered off my brows, ran down my cheeks, and dripped from the tip of my nose. A pungent aroma assailed me then. I stuck out my tongue to catch a drop of Sacred Fuel. I tasted it. Then I tasted another.
Finally, I scooped some up in my palm. Already reeling from its fragrance, I swallowed a good mouthful. My brain burst with the shock of recognition!
"There's the impostor—seize him!" howled a soldier who had just poked his head through the doorway above. "Stop shoving me, you damned dogs! There's no stair here, only—"
But the thrust of those behind him proved irresistible. With a shriek of terror, he whizzed down the incline, rolled across the gallery, and created a tidal wave in my vat.
The other three soldiers remained crowded at the door. I didn't understand their lack of coordination until I spied a blue head adorned by tufts of hair. I cried huzzah for the plucky queen of the Zorophim as, employing her lethal fist, she launched the soldiers down the incline.
Dripping and fragrant, I clambered out of the vat just as the second man fell in. His companions followed at brief intervals.
While the quartet thrashed and swore, I scuttled for a handladder which took me up to the gallery. There, I dashed to the incline. From the top, His Splendor and Her Radiance looked down.
Her Radiance asked her husband, "Why is the Vintner giggling at such a desperate moment?"
"Perhaps the melee has damaged his mind."
"Not at all, to the contrary! I am thinking with wonderful clarity. And I've just discovered a marvelous secret. But give me a hand. We must escape at once!"
In the vat, the soldiers were punching each other fiercely. The sharpest of them discovered that I was not among the punchees. Dashing purple liquid from his eyes, he sighted me and yelled.
His fellows paid little attention. They had started scooping up double handfuls of Sacred Fuel, and were consuming it with gusto. The leader once more cried for pursuit. The drinkers howled merry obscenities.
Accepting assistance from His Splendor, I regained the top of the incline. Down below, the soldiers continued to swill and frolic.
"This is a calamity of the highest order!" cried Her Radiance as we shut the door and made it fast. "The Sacred Fuel has been profaned!"
"No religious fanaticism, please! We have larger matters to worry about! Follow me and we'll check the situation outside."
Happily, no additional soldiers had arrived. As we descended the incline, I promised the blue monarchs that I knew a safe place.
Two rain-drenched figures appeared from the darkness—Mrf Qqt and Aphrodisia. The latter flung her arms around my neck.
"Oh, Hoptor, we thought you slain—!"
"Please, please, let's get out of this light. At any moment, some soldier may glance our way—"
So saying, I hustled them all into the shadows.
We crouched by the outer wall as a company pelted by, armed to the jowls with swords, dirks, indents, and spears. At quick time, the soldiers dashed out the nearest gate. Ordered forth to put down a new civil disorder, perhaps?
Just then, I realized the rain had stopped. I glanced up past the lamplit palace to a murky sky. A light wind blew, riffling rain puddles. Was this the calm before the storm's full fury? I don't mind admitting I shivered!
"Help! Ho!—assistance, someone—!"
A purple-dyed soldier appeared in the hatchway of the craft. He weaved on his feet, and suddenly tittered. Off balance, he fell and slid down the incline. I was positive that, among his companions remaining inside, there would be none who had not been overcome by Sacred Fuel. We were momentarily safe.
Thus I urged my charges toward the nearby gate.
Another soldier popped out of a booth and attempted to interrogate us. I captured his interest with my pose as Captain Bolvolio. Drenched purple and in utter disarray, I couldn't carry off the deception for more than an instant. But that was ample time for Mrf Qqt to use his fist.
"Haste, haste!" 1 exclaimed, shoving the others past the slumbering guard.
"Where are we going?" asked Mrf Qqt.
"To my villa."
"We wonder if that will be a safe haven," His Splendor said.
"As safe as any this topsy-turvy night. Besides, there's something I must show you. After that's taken care of, we can provision ourselves, slip away into the city and await developments."
But as we rushed unmolested through the first shadowy boulevard, developments soon became perfectly clear.
Down a side street we saw another riot; several hundred persons were involved. Two buildings had been fired, and the sky-leaping flames showed some soldiers getting the worst of it.
Again and again on our dash to my house, we witnessed similar disorders in progress. Many fires were being set. The underbellies of the clouds glared scarlet. I began to entertain hope that with disorder rampant, Pytho I might be forced to overlook our escape.
I asked a question which had been puzzling me:
"Naturally not," returned Her Radiance. "The infernal devices of the master torturer never touched our persons."
"How can that be, unless you revealed secrets?"
"We revealed what that scar-faced lord of misrule believed to be secrets," His Splendor said. "A meaningless podge of noddle and smarf"— I believe those were the terms he used! —"a nursery babble, in a bastard mixture of our tongue and yours. But it set that villain Pytho crying for a corps of translators. They scribbled our every utterance on their tablets. Then they rushed away to decipher the transcript. We wish them good fortune! But we venture that several will lose their heads. All they'll come up with is gibberish."
"Pytho couldn't tell the difference, eh?"
"Power-mad monarchs are easily deceived, Hoptor. They believe chiefly what they wish to believe. And Pytho wished to believe that, being cowards, we would of course surrender our higher knowledge. Happily, we have none like him on Zorop. Of course, not all Atlanteans are as bad as he," the king added, somewhat hastily. "You have obviously tried to do your best by us—"
"And shall continue to do so, you may be assured! Quick, now, take a right. My villa is but a few squares straight on."
Thus, while the wind keened, bringing sounds of alarm and odors of burning from nearly every quarter, we arrived at our destination. I discovered that my villa's front doors had been wrenched completely off. By looters or the military, I couldn't say which.
Inside, I dared light but one lamp. That was sufficient for my purposes, however.
From my study I fetched mortar and pestle. I asked Aphrodisia to hold the lamp high, and led the way into the garden.
There, in a transport of expectation, I rushed among the damaged vines, managing to locate a few surviving grapes. I quickly scraped off most of the mold and thrust the grapes into the pestle. Then I crushed them with my mortar.
Trembling, I extended the utensils to His Splendor. I bade him taste of the pulp clinging to the pestle.
This he did, and fell to his knees, a beatific expression on his face.
"O astonishment and wonder! It is the Sacred Fuel!"