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The Golden Torc

Page 4

by Julian May


  "And the male silver-torc dropouts?"

  "Sperm is an easy keeper. As for the bonkered-out owner ... well, there's always the Hunt. Or the life-offerings."

  "I know about the Hunt." Bryan was grim. "But the life-offering thing is new. What is it—human sacrifice?"

  "More like ritual execution of criminals and hopelessly unfit persons. As I understand sacrifices, the victim was supposed to be noble or pure or something. Well, the Tanu have that kind of ritual killing only once in a blue moon—like when there's a new King or Queen inaugurated. But the regular life-offerings come twice a year. At the tail end of the Grand Combat in early November and at the Grand Loving, in May. It's more like a clean sweep of the jails and soft rooms than anything else. Uncivilized by Milieu standards, but not all that bad an idea when you get right down to it."

  Don't read my mind, Johnny, Bryan thought. Aloud, he said, "How do the human silvers become golds?"

  The skipper gave a basso profundo laugh. "There's ways and ways. Your weird little pal is a shoo-in candidate!"

  Bryan was at a loss for words. Yes, Aiken might fit in very well in this mad world of wondrous powers and appalling barbarity. But what of Mercy, fey and fearful?

  Tall Creyn, with his red-and-white robes billowing in the breeze, came into the bows area, followed by Elizabeth. "We're almost there, Bryan. You can see the High King's palace now—that complex with bars of golden light and the hundreds of bright lamps spaced along the fapade. We'll be ending our journey there. After we've rested for a few hours, there'll be a supper feast in honor of you new arrivals. King Thagdal and Queen Nontusvel will be there themselves to bid you welcome."

  "Do all newcomers get such a splendid reception?" Elizabeth inquired. Half hidden behind the towering Tanu, she was an unobtrusive figure in her red denim jumpsuit.

  "Not all." Creyn smiled down at her. "Your arrival is a very special occasion. It's been an honor for me to escort you. I hope to be able to work with you at Redact House in later days."

  The realization burst upon Bryan. Of course. The magnificent escort had really come to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth! And the banquet with the King and Queen in attendance would be primarily for her. What a priceless catch the exotic time-fishers had made in this quiet, repressive woman with the unfathomable mental powers. And what new plans the genetic schemers must be hatching! Poor Elizabeth. Bryan wondered whether she was yet aware of the kind of temptation that the Tanu were sure to offer; and whether she realized the deadly danger that she faced if she should decline to cooperate...

  Creyn continued to point out features of the capital city to the two of them. "The largest of the structures, those with the surmounting towers and faceted beacons, are the headquarters of the five great Guilds Mental. You might think of them as metapsychic clans—for there is more of a family than a professional relationship among the membership. Hie violet and amber lights adorn the Hall of Farsensors, which is presided over by the Venerable Lady Mayvar Kingmaker. The Guild of Creators has its headquarters lit with aquamarine and white. At the present time, this group is led by Lord Aluteyn Craftsmaster. However, his authority has been recently challenged and there may be changes made after the manifestations of power take place at the Grand Combat. The blue and amber lights symbolize the Coercer Guild, whose head is Sebi-Gomnol, a human wearer of the gold. Beyond that complex rises the home of the psychokinetics, the movers and shakers who are led by Lord Nodonn Battlemaster. He is at this time resident in his home city of Goriah. The PK Guild has rose and amber for its heraldic colors."

  "And your own association?" Elizabeth asked.

  "The Guild of Redactors has its headquarters outside of the city, on the southern slope of the Mount of Heroes. The white-and-red illumination is not visible from this side of the peninsula. Our guild is headed by Lord Dionket, Chief Healer of the Tanu."

  A small figure in a suit of metallic fiber came slithering forward. Aiken Drum doffed his hat and bowed. His grinning face was shadowed and masklike in the light of the escort's torches.

  "I couldn't help but eavesdrop, Chief. How is it that a human being—this Gumball, or whatever his name is—can head up one of your big corporations?"

  Creyn's reply was cold. "Lord Sebi-Gomnol is a person of extraordinary talents—both metapsychic and scientific. After you meet him, you'll know why we hold him in such high esteem."

  "How did he get his gold?" Aiken persisted.

  Even Bryan was aware of the palpable revulsion flowing from the exotic healer. "You'd better hear that from his own lips as well."

  Aiken gave a wicked chuckle. "I can hardly wait. Old Gumball sounds like the kinda guy who could even give me a few tips!"

  You will leave us Aiken Drum.

  Anything you command Chief!

  Elizabeth frowned at the retreating back of the golliwog youth. To analyze this interesting implication was going to take some patient work. She hoped Lord Gomnol would be present at the feast.

  Bryan was asking, "Are the rest of the buildings in the city private, then?"

  "By no means," Creyn said. "Muriah is a working capital. The persons resident here are primarily concerned with the administration of our Many-Colored Land. Our education facilities are here and certain other vital operations as well. But you will discover, Bryan, that we are not nearly so formal in these high matters as your Galactic Milieu will be six million years into the future. We have a small population in our High Kingdom and a fairly simple culture. Many workings of our government are handled family-fashion. You will be encouraged to study the social structure very closely. There are things you must tell us about ourselves."

  The anthropologist inclined his head. "It'll be a fascinating project. I can't think of a Milieu culture even remotely resembling yours."

  The boat was finally drawing up to a quasi-Babylonian edifice of white stone, lavishly adorned with flowering plants that dripped over stepped, lamplighted balconies. The portico of the palace fronted on a spur of the rollered way. There were no casual mobs of human onlookers to be seen, but a large group of liveried human attendants stood waiting, together with forty or fifty little ramas dressed in white tabards ornamented with the stylized golden male face, emblem of the sovereign. As the boat came to a halt, the mounted escort rode partway up a flight of shallow steps that led to the palace entrance. The riders sat straight in their saddles, raised their torches on high, and formed into ranks like an honor guard.

  There was a gong sound and a flourish of trumpets. A stately Tanu woman dressed all in silver and attended by silver-armored human soldiers came to the head of the stairs. She held out both arms toward the travelers in the boat and sang a strophe in the Tanu language. The riders chorused a response at the top of their lungs.

  Creyn interpreted. "The Exalted Lady Eadone, Dean of Guilds and eldest daughter of the Thagdal, greets you. Elizabeth will answer."

  Skipper Highjohn had been busy amidships winding out a gangplank that settled onto the lowest step. He winked at Elizabeth and held out a big brown hand to assist her to disembark.

  An abrupt silence fell. The brisk evening breeze whipped the pennons, capes, and robes of the chaliko riders. Elizabeth in her simple red suit looked lost in the midst of the pageant; but her physical and mental voice was firm and quite as impressive as that of the King's daughter.

  She spoke a phrase in the Tanu language and then repeated it in English: "Thank you for welcoming us to this beautiful city. We are impressed by the splendor and richness of your Many-Colored Land, which is so different from the primitive world we expected to find six million years into our past. We greet you with all goodwill. We hope you will be patient with us as we learn your ways. And we pray that there will be peace between our two races through the length of the world's age."

  Crash! went the drums and cymbals. The orderly scene dissolved into a carnival whirl. Chaliko riders galloped up and down the steps, cheering, laughing, and singing. After a courteous nod to Elizabeth, the Lady Eadone vanished into t
he palace. Attendants and ramas came swarming to assist the time-travelers and gather up their baggage.

  Elizabeth came quickly back onto the boat before the wild throng could engulf her. Distracted, all barriers up against the mental cacophony, she went forward to say goodbye to Skipper Highjohn.

  Bryan was there, leaning against the doorframe of the wheelhouse, a look of horror on his face.

  Creyn passed Elizabeth, smiling. "It's quite all right. Highjohn did such a fine job of conveying us that I wanted to give him his reward immediately." The redactor stepped onto the gangplank and vanished into the crowd.

  Elizabeth came and stood beside Bryan, looking into the wheelhouse. The boatman lay on the deck beside the steering housing. His old U.S. Navy cap had fallen from his head. His eyes were rolled back so that only the whites were visible. Ribbons of saliva were spun from his open mouth to his kinky black beard. The gray torc was slimy with sweat. Highjohn's hands scratched at the decking and his body arched up again and again in convulsive spasms.

  He groaned in ecstasy.

  Bryan whispered, "Are they all doing it to you, Johnny? All of them, curing the loneliness?"

  With gentle firmness he drew Elizabeth back and closed the wheelhouse door. Then they followed the others into the palace of the Tanu King.

  2

  A GAUDY THRONG eddied around the feast-hall anteroom in anticipation of the arrival of what a courtier had called Most Exalted Personages. Both humans and Tanu wore filmy robes in different styles. Most of the women sported fantastic wired and jeweled headdresses. Music filled the air, played by an unseen orchestra that featured flutes, harps, and glockenspiels.

  Bryan and Elizabeth and Stein and Sukey and Raimo had met again after an interval of three hours, brought into a railed enclosure separate from the rest of the crowd of dinner guests. The time-travelers stared at one another and then burst into laughter, so bemusing had been their transformation.

  "But they took away my other clothes!" Raimo protested, his face aflame. "And they told me this would be the kind of thing the other guys would wear!"

  Stein guffawed. "Talk about giving the ladies a treat—! You look like a friggerty ballet dancer. Or Captain Marvel!"

  "Steinie, shut up," said Sukey. "I think Raimo looks fine."

  Glowering, the former woodsman tried to pull his skimpy golden cape around his torso. He wore a scarlet leotardlike garment with a faint diapré pattern of gold that looked as if it had been shrink-wrapped about his muscular body. Golden boots and a matching belt completed the ensemble.

  He is packaged for display, Elizabeth realized. With his meager psychokinetic ability and low level of intelligence, he is destined to be a toy.

  Raimo was scowling at Stein. "At least they got you out of that mangy fur kilt."

  The Viking only smiled. He looked magnificent and knew it, having been decked out by palace servitors in a deep-green short tunic of simplest cut, together with his own leather collar and belt studded with gold and amber. To this had been added an ornate baldric in similar style that supported a bronze two-handed sword in a jeweled scabbard. From Stein's great shoulders fell a cloak of sherry-colored brocade held by a greenstone brooch. He wore his bronze Viksø helmet with the curling horns.

  Sukey clung to one arm of this incarnation of Norse divinity. Her gown was of white silken gauze with a trailing skirt and close-fitting sleeves. The simplicity of the dress was offset by an elaborate headdress resembling a silver halo, ornamented with glowing red gems. The ruby color of the stones was repeated in her narrow pendant belt and in the wide bracelets at her wrists.

  "I think they dressed me in the heraldic colors of the clan I'm to be initiated into," Sukey said. "The redactors seem to wear red with white or silver. I wonder why you didn't get red-and-white regalia, Elizabeth?"

  The farspeaker said, "I think I look very tasteful in black. Perhaps it has a special significance. They did spend a lot of time dressing my hair, at any rate. And when the wardrobe mistress saw my diamond ring, she came up with this nice little tiara."

  "You and I make rather a set," Bryan observed. "Elegant restraint in the midst of these birds of paradise."

  Elizabeth was amused. "And not bad at all, Doctor, now that you've shed those wrinkled bush-cottons and the imitation Aussie hat."

  The once-drab anthropologist now wore garments cut from a glistening fabric of deepest blue-green. He had narrow trousers tucked into silver short boots, a well-tailored jacket piped in silver, and a long cape that matched the suit. Elizabeth's costume was also simple. Her loose gown of filmy black was adorned by a narrow neck-yoke of red metallic fabric; two free-hanging ribands of the same material, jeweled and embroidered, fell from the front and rear of the yoke. It was a style that many of the Tanu women wore—although none showed the black-and-red color scheme.

  Sukey was looking around. "I wonder where Aiken is?"

  Stein muttered, "I don't see how they could make that kid any fancier-looking than he already is."

  "Speak of the devil," Bryan said.

  A servant pulled aside the drapery covering the passage door that led to their enclosure. The missing member of the group was ushered in, and Stein's observation proved to be prophetic. Aiken Drum was still wearing his own golden suit with the hundred pockets. He had added only a black cape that sparkled like carbonado and a tall bunch of black feathers fastened behind the cockade of his broad-brimmed hat.

  "The festivities may now commence!" the jester declared.

  "Maybe we'd better wait for the King and Queen," Elizabeth suggested.

  Raimo was indignant. "Would you believe it, Aik? They took my flask!"

  "The fewkin' fiends! I'd bring it running to you on little bitty feet, Chopper, if I wasn't so confused by the layout of this place."

  "You could really bring it here?" the ex-woodsman exclaimed.

  "Why not? You know what whisky means? And akvavit and all those other boozy words we know and love? They all translate as 'water of life!' All those old folks who put a name to strong drink thought that it put the life back into you. So why shouldn't I put a little life into the booze? Make it sprout legs ... easy!"

  "I thought they programmed a curb on your metafunctions," Elizabeth said. She probed gently and met a well-constructed defense.

  Aiken winked. He hooked a finger around his silver torc and pulled. The metal necklet seemed to stretch—then snap back to solidity. "I've been working on that, sweets. Plus a few other things. Want to bet this is going to be one mother of a party?"

  "Attaway, buddy!" Raimo cackled.

  "I must say," the shining youth observed, "that the rest of you are really looking up, sartorially speaking. You're almost as gorgeous as me!" He studied Stein and Sukey in silence for a moment, then said, "And let me offer my largest felicitations on your union."

  The Viking and his lady stared at Aiken with mingled fear and resolution.

  Damn you Aiken, Elizabeth sent. I'll snap your synapses if you—

  But the trickster swept on, black eyes alight. "The Tanu aren't going to like it, because they had plans of their own for you two. But I'm a sentimentalist. Romance must triumph!"

  "Do you know what you're talking about?" Stein's voice was quiet. One ham-sized fist closed over the pommel of his bronze sword.

  Aiken skipped close to him. Scandinavian blue eyes bridged a fifty-cent gap as they met those of the mischief-maker. Elizabeth was aware of an electric surge of mindspeech, well-directed along the intimate mode. She could not decipher it; but Sukey must have understood it, as well as her gigantic consort.

  The background music ceased. A squad of trumpeters, their glass carnices hung with banners featuring the male-head motif, appeared in the arch of the feasting hall and sounded a fanfare. The butterfly swarm of guests paired off and a fuller orchestra began to play alla marcia.

  Bryan caught the eye of a human courtier who was opening the gate of their enclosure. "Wagner?"

  The gray-torc nodded. "Indubitably, Wor
thy Doctor. Our gracious Lady Eadone wished to make you feel more at home, insofar as that's possible. The Tanu are very fond of human music. The feasters will also use your own speech-vocal in consideration of your torcless status. If you please, your scholarly analysis of our society may begin this very night."

  It began when I came through the damn time-gate, Bryan thought. But he only nodded to the man.

  Aiken was asking the gray, "What do we do now, cockie? We don't want to commit any fox paws in front of the biggies."

  The courtier said, "The Most Exalted Personages are enthroned at their own banqueting table. You'll be presented to them briefly, and then the supper will begin. Court etiquette is very informal in this society. Just carry on with reasonable courtesy."

  They waited until the last of the privileged citizens of Muriah had entered the hall, marching two by two. Then it was time for their own entrance.

  Aiken swept off his golden hat and made a mocking bow to Raimo. "Shall we, dear?"

  "Why the hell not?" laughed the forester. "If this party is anything like the last one, the ladies'11 be joining us inside!"

  "This party," Aiken said, "is not going to be anything like the last one. But you'll have a great time, Ray. I guarantee it."

  "How about the rest of us?" Stein asked. He had tucked his helmet under one arm. He and Sukey fell in behind Raimo and Aiken.

  "Make your own fun, my man," said Aiken Drum. He strutted through the ranks of trumpeters into the hall.

  Wordlessly, Bryan offered his arm to Elizabeth; but all thought of the farspeaker and her fate had gone from his mind. As they stepped forward to the Tannhauser cadences he felt only the stabbing thrust of his fixe: that Mercy would be there! There and safe within her silver. Not trapped, not struggling, but secure in the faerie family that enraptured the lucky ones among its captives.

 

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