Jack of Swords dot-14

by E. C. Tubb

  "A quest." Sufan Noyoka refilled the empty glass. "My friend, we have much in common, but more of that later. Yet I think that each man must have a reason for living, for why else was he given imagination? To live to eat, to breed, and to die-that is for animals. But why Teralde? The names are not even similar."

  "Earth has another name," said Dumarest. "Terra."

  "Terra? I-" Sufan broke off, his eyes shifting, darting, little gleams of reflection turning them into liquid pools. "Teralde," he said musingly. "I see the association. But legend has it that the name originated with. Captain Lance Terraim, who was among the first to settle here."

  "From where?"

  "Who can tell?" Sufan shrugged. "It was long ago and time distorts meaning. Even his family no longer exists and there have been many changes. The land-war of two centuries ago broke the old pattern and the ancient records were lost. I am sorry, my friend, but it seems that you came on a hopeless errand. Teralde is not the world you seek."

  As Dumarest had known from the first, yet Sufan's eyes had betrayed him. He knew of Terra, the name at least, and he could know more. But he gave Dumarest no chance to ask questions.

  "Let me show you my house, Earl. Usan, my dear, will you arrange the setting of the table? Now come with me, my friend, and tell me what you think of my few treasures. I have an artifact found on Helgeit which holds a mystery and another discovered on a barren world which is equally as strange. You have seen such things in your travels? Have you been to Anilish? Vendhart?" And then, without change of tone, he said, "How often have you killed?"

  "My lord?"

  "Can you kill?"

  "When I have to, yes."

  "That is good. Perhaps later you will tell me of your adventures. Now look at this. And this. And what do you think of that?"

  The place was partly a museum. Dumarest watched as the man took items from cabinets, his thin hands caressing shapes of stone and distorted metal, old books and moldering scrolls, a crystal which sang as he pressed it, a gem that blazed with a shifting rainbow to the heat of his cupped palm.

  For a moment he stared at it then flung it without warning. Dumarest caught it inches from his face.

  "Fast," said Sufan. "The reports did not lie. You have unusual reflexes, my friend. Can you handle weapons? A rifle? A laser?"

  "Yes."

  "And others? A spear? A bow? A sling?"

  "Why do you ask, my lord?"

  "Still the formality, Earl?" Sufan Noyoka tilted his head as if he were a bird examining a crumb. "A defense," he mused. "A traveler needs to ensure that he does not unwittingly offend local mores and what better way than being always courteous to those who could do him harm? Some would mistake it for servility, but I know better. You have questions you would like to ask?"

  "Yes, and have answered."

  "Such as?"

  "Terra. You have heard the name."

  Sufan blinked then said dryly, "An odd request. I would have thought you would be curious as to your own welfare. The reason you are here, for example, and what will happen to you. Yet you ask only after a name. Is your quest, then, so important?"

  A gong echoed before Dumarest could answer and his host turned to relock the cabinets that held his treasures. Smiling, he said, "The meal is about to be served and good food should not wait on conversation. Shall we pay it our respects?"

  * * *

  The food was good but Dumarest ate little, choosing dishes high in protein content and barely touching the wine. Pacula Harada had joined then. She wore white, a shimmering gown which graced her figure and robbed her of accumulated years, an illusion accentuated by the soft lighting.

  The talk was casual, yet contained undercurrents of which Dumarest was aware, seeming banalities shielding matters of high importance to those at the table. Again Usan Labria took one of her pills, shrugging as Pacula asked after her health.

  "I live, girl, what more can I ask?" Then, to Sufan Noyoka, "Well?"

  "You were right, my dear."

  "You have found the man?" Pacula caught her breath. "I thought as much. Has he agreed?"

  "As yet, no."

  "Why not? Sufan, you must-"

  "Convince him?" He was bland, his smile a mask. "Of course, but gently, my dear. Earl is not a man to be rushed. First he must recognize the situation. Have you further word from Avorot?"

  "He is sending men to search the wilderness and others to comb the Warren. Tien demands new evidence and the Commissioner has promised to supply it. If he does not he will be replaced."

  "As I expected." Sufan Noyoka toyed with his goblet. "And, if all else fails, he will resort to harsher measures: the use of drugs and electronic probes to wring the truth from a stubborn mind. The Owners will insist on it to avoid a war. Earl, my friend, your time is limited. I mention it only to make the situation clear. Some more wine?"

  "No."

  "As you wish." Sufan leaned back in his chair, his face bland. "The meat was dried," he mused, "which means a camp was set up in the wilderness. Traces could be found. Your associates will be discovered and will betray you for promise of immunity and reward. Tien will not believe them, but the probes will reveal the truth. Without a vessel, Earl, you are stranded and helpless. You agree?"

  "Not helpless," said Usan Labria sharply. "I shall help him, for one."

  "To do what, my dear? Hide in the mountains, living on what he can find? Earl could survive, I have no doubt, but only as a savage. And if you defy Tien, what then?"

  The woman had already saved his life with her lies; to ask more was to ask too much. Dumarest said flatly, "I think it time we came to the point. Why was I invited here? What do you want from me?"

  "Your help," said Pacula quickly. "We need you. I, that is we, can't-Sufan?"

  "I will explain, my dear." The man helped himself to more wine, his manner casual, only the slight trembling of his hand betraying his inner tension. "Earl, have you ever heard of Balhadorha?"

  "The Ghost World?"

  "That is what some call it."

  "A legend," said Dumarest. "A myth. A planet which orbits some unknown star in some unknown region of space. There is supposed to be a city or something filled with riches. A fabulous treasure."

  "And more," said Pacula. "So much more."

  Stuff compounded of dreams and wistful longings. Rumors augmented in taverns and on lonely worlds by men who built a structure of fantasy. The Ghost World, the planet no one could ever find or, having found it, would never leave. The answer to all privation and hurt, a never-never place in which pain had no part and the only tears were those of happiness. Balhadorha-another name for Heaven.

  "You don't believe in it," said Usan Labria sharply. "Why not?"

  "My lady, every tavern is filled with men who will talk of fabulous worlds. Some of them will even offer to sell you the coordinates. El Dorado, Jackpot, Bonanza, Celdoris-"

  "Earth?"

  "Earth is not a legend, madam."

  "So you say, but who will agree? A name, a world, one in which you believe, but one not listed and totally unknown. Yet you insist that it is real. You even claim to have been born there."

  "So?"

  "Balhadorha is real. The Ghost World exists. I know it!"

  Faith, not knowledge. The desperate need to believe despite all evidence to the contrary. Dumarest looked at the raddled features, the veined, quivering hands, the sick, hurt look in the eyes.

  Gently he said, "You could be right, my lady. Space is huge and filled with a billion worlds. No man can know them all."

  "Then you admit it could be there?"

  "Perhaps. I have heard nothing but wild rumors from those who heard them from others. I have never found it myself."

  "But you would be willing to look?" Pacula leaned forward across the table, careless of the glass she sent falling to spill a flood of ruby wine. "You would not object to that?"

  She, too, radiated a desperate intensity and Dumarest wondered why. Those who owned wealth and privilege had l
ittle cause to chase a dream. The heaven Balhadorha offered was already theirs; only to the poor and desperate did such fantasies hold magic.

  Sufan Noyoka? The man was contained, leaning back in his chair, his face bland; only the eyes, bright with restless dartings, placed him at one with the others.

  "A question was asked, Earl," he said quietly. "As yet you have made no answer."

  To search for a planet he was certain did not exist. To join them in their illusion-but to refuse would gain him nothing but their enmity.

  "No, my lady," he said slowly. "I would not object."

  "Then it is settled." Usan Labria reached for wine, the decanter making small chimes as it rapped against the edge of her glass. Noyoka was less precipitate.

  "A moment, my dear," he said softly. "A man cannot promise to accomplish what he does not understand. Not a man I would be willing to trust And trust, in this matter, is essential."

  "I trust him, Sufan!"

  "And I!" Pacula looked at Dumarest. "Do you agree to help us?"

  "If I can, my lady. What would it entail?"

  "A journey. It may be long and it could be hard."

  "We need a man." Usan Labria was more direct. "One who can kill if necessary. A special type of man to take care of what needs to be done. Tell him, Sufan. Explain." Her voice rose a little. "And for God's sake let us be on our way. Already we have waited too long!"

  * * *

  The room was small, filled with the musty odor of ancient books, scraps of oddly shaped material lying on the scarred surface of rough tables. Star maps hung against the walls and the desk bore a litter of papers.

  "Let us talk of legends," said Sufan Noyoka. Alone he had guided Dumarest to the room, leading the way up winding stairs to the chamber set beneath the roof. "They are romantic tales embellished and adorned, things of myth and imagination, and yet each could contain a kernel of truth. Eden, for example-you have heard of it?"

  "Yes."

  "A world of pure joy in which men and women live gracious lives. None need to work. There is no poverty, no pain, no hurt. Each day is a spring of fabulous happiness. Once men owned it, now it is lost. Tell me, do you consider it to be real?"

  "Perhaps. I have visited a world with such a name."

  "And found what?" Sufan did not wait for an answer. "A desert," he said. "A barren, harsh world of arid soil and acid seas. A lie-the name used only to attract settlers. I, too, have visited Eden and there is more than one world with such a name. But does that mean that the Eden of legend did not, at one time, exist? As Earth, perhaps, once existed?"

  "Earth is not a legend."

  "So you say, and I will not argue with you, but if you believe in one legend then why not two?"

  "Balhadorha," said Dumarest. "The Ghost World."

  "Balhadorha." Sufan Noyoka moved to a table and lifted a distorted scrap of metal. "This cost me the labor of a serf for a year. A scrap of debris, you would think, but the composition is something we cannot repeat. A mystery, and there are others, perhaps-later we shall talk about them. For now let me explain what we intend."

  "To take a ship and go searching for a legend," said Dumarest. "To follow a dream."

  "You think I am mad?" Sufan shrugged. "There are many who think that. But consider a moment. You seek Earth- how do you go about it?" Again he did not wait for an answer. "You ask, you probe, you assemble clues, you sift evidence. From a mountain of rumor you winnow a nodule of fact. To it you add others, always sifting, checking, questioning. Decades of searching and then, with luck, you have the answer."

  Light flared as he touched the switch of a projector and, on a screen, glowed the depiction of a sector of space. Stars blazing with a variety of colors, sheets and curtains of luminescence and, in the center, the sprawling blob of a cloud of interstellar dust.

  "The Hichen Cloud." An adjustment and it dominated the screen. "An unusual configuration which adopts a different guise when viewed from various positions. It has never been truly explored."

  And with reason. Dumarest knew of the conflicting forces which were common in such areas; the electronic vortexes which could take a vessel and render it into a mass of unrecognizable wreckage, the spacial strains which negated the drive of the generators, the psychological stresses which turned men insane.

  "You expect to find Balhadorha in that?"

  "The prospect disturbs you?"

  "Yes." Dumarest was blunt. "I've had experience with such areas. Only a fool would venture into such a region. No sane captain would dare risk his vessel and no crew be willing to take the chance."

  "A normal captain and a normal crew, I agree. But you underestimate the power of greed, my friend. Think of what could be gained. Wealth beyond imagination, the treasure of a world, gems and precious metals-" Sufan Noyoka broke off as he saw Dumarest's expression. "Such things do not tempt you?"

  "Do they you?"

  "No. A man can only eat so much, live in one place at a time, wear one suit of clothing. But even so, wealth has power. Think of it, my friend. The power to travel where and when you will. To buy a ship to aid you in your search. Money to ease the path to a thousand worlds. You killed a beast in order to live and risked your life in so doing. Why not risk it again for much, much more?"

  The voice of temptation, and Dumarest was aware of the man's subtlety. Sufan knew more than he had admitted, in small ways he had betrayed himself and, though no threat had been made, always it was implied. A word and he would be delivered to Avorot, to be kept in jail, to wait until evidence had accumulated or the probes were brought into use.

  The trap which had closed had not yet opened and would not until he left this world.

  "You will need a ship," he said. "A ship and a crew."

  "All has been arranged." Sufan's voice, dry as the rustle of windblown leaves, held no emotion, but his eyes, for a moment, ceased their restless dancing. "This is no casual whim. For years I have planned, each step taken with painstaking care, units assembled to form a composite whole. Only one thing was lacking and you provide it."

  "A bodyguard?"

  "That and more." Sufan Noyoka drew in his breath, his chest rising, his eyes blazing with a brighter shine. "Soon we shall be on our way, and think, my friend, of what you might find."

  The answer to his long, long search, perhaps. The exact location of Earth. On Balhadorha, so rumor claimed, the answers to all things could be found.

  Chapter Five

  Each morning, now, it was harder to wake, the time in which she lay, conscious only of pain, lengthening so that the days became shorter and life ran like sand from a container, each grain another precious hour. And yet, now, there were compensations, and lying in the shade of an awning, Usan Labria considered them, savoring them as she waited for the pills to take effect.

  It was good to be in the open. Good to breathe deeply of the clean air and to feel the sun. Best of all was to know that she was not alone, that with her was someone who cared. Not for herself as a woman, but for herself as a person. More she could not expect, much as she would have liked it, but later perhaps, when she was free of pain and things were as she hoped-who could tell?

  A dream and she knew it, but it was a nice one and it did no harm to dream. Less to relax and to let another take care of things, and Dumarest had proved to be a good companion.

  "My lady?" He stood in the opening of the shelter, limned by the sunlight, which threw a nimbus of light around him while casting his face in shadow. "Is there anything you need?"

  "A little water." It was close at hand but to be served was an added pleasure.

  She sipped, taking another pill, then looking up, met his eyes.

  "Do you think I'm a fool?"

  "No, my lady."

  "Call me Usan, Earl, and be honest. Am I?"

  "No. To hope is not to be foolish."

  "Others would not agree with you. My cousin for one." Memory of him thinned her lips. "He can't wait for me to die so that he can inherit. Much good will it do
him. My lands are mortgaged to the hilt, the beasts sold, the house needing repair. Everything I own has been turned into money and I've borrowed all I could. A last fling, Earl, and still you say I am not a fool?"

  "Would it matter if I did?"

  He was blunt and she liked that, liked too his air of assurance, his smooth competence. Raoul had once been like that, or so she had thought, but that had been long, long ago. He was dead now as were others she had once called friend or lover. And the thing which had struck her had driven still more away. None like to be associated with illness and her manner hadn't helped. Well, to hell with them; soon, with luck, she would have the last laugh.

  "Sit beside me," she ordered. "Talk to me, Earl. You have nothing else to do."

  "The area must be checked, my lady."

  "Usan-we are friends are we not?"

  "The area must still be checked."

  "Why? Are you afraid Avorot will find us here? What if he does? I have a right to go camping and you are in my charge." Her voice, she knew, was becoming querulous. Deliberately she deepened it, made it harsh. "Do as I say, man. You have nothing to fear."

  For a moment Dumarest stared at her, scenting the odor which was strong in the shelter, the scent of decaying tissue exuded through the skin. Internal organs rotting, afflicted with a disease local medicine could not cure. She was dying and knew it but struggled to the last. An attribute he could appreciate.

  "Later, Usan. Later."

  Sufan Noyoka had planned well. The ship he had summoned would call at the field, pick him up together with Pacula Harada, then light to land again in this spot he had chosen. The only way to avoid the search Avorot would be certain to make. Usan Labria had to stay with him; alone she would not have been allowed to embark.

  A responsibility Dumarest could have done without. The delay had been too long. Suspicion must have been aroused, a search launched, and others would have spotted the raft in which they had traveled.

  Leaving the shelter Dumarest climbed to the summit of a mound. All around stretched the broken terrain of the foothills, the loom of mountains rising like a wall to the north. An arid place, as bad as the wilderness which ran beyond the city to the south, dotted only with clumps of thorny scrub. A bleak area into which they had brought food and water and supplies-things which were getting low.