The Cosmic City

by Brian K. Lowe

  The slope didn’t bother it at all; every little pit and crack in the rock was a hook for its thousands of tiny clawed feet. It flowed upward toward us, and I remembered how Praja Waluu said they would sometimes rear up to take prey that wasn’t conveniently lying on the ground. The klurath were trapped; the sluggeth could take them at its leisure, stealing the spiders’ dinner right out from under them, and no matter who won the fight that followed, our friends were dead.

  Unless…

  “Skull! Get me a lance!”

  He didn’t question, he just turned and shouted to someone further down, and a second later he was handing me a lance.

  “Hold it a second,” I requested, and turning to the web, I burned a hole in it right between the klurath. There wasn’t a lot of room, and they hissed when the melting webbing touched them. “Thanks!” I grabbed the lance and hopped through the hole I’d made, being very careful not to touch the gooey webbing. Then I stood on the other side, facing the sluggeth, lance held ready. “Come on, you bastard. Come get your supper, if you want it so bad.”

  It must have already been crazy with hunger at the thought of two helpless meals, because it charged me without hesitation. I backed up as close to the webbing as I could without touching it, breathing hard as that twenty-foot eating machine rolled forward on all those clicking feet. It was practically at my toes when I stepped back through the web, raising the lance.

  “Come on, monster! Come on!”

  And now, with me out of the way, it reared up, lifting its head six feet off the ground, ready to fall on Tars Arcus where he stood unable to move…

  …and I ran the lance right into its underbelly, groaning out loud as I lifted it even further. I set the end of the lance on the ground and pulled the sluggeth into the webbing above the klurath.

  The supporting strings held, but those hundreds of feet were scoring the air in a panic and ripping the web to shreds. I grabbed one of the klurath and tore him out of it, my hands sticking to him but my legs churning to get away. We managed to pass the others and I all but ran with him downhill. We hit the ground panting and anxious until Kyle came down with the other glue-encrusted soldier, followed by the rest of our crew. Within moments we were all streaming webbing as we tried to clean our men off with little success.

  “Try rolling around on the grass,” Skull suggested, and lacking any other ideas, they followed his suggestion, as reluctant as they were to lie down in carnivorous plants. But the webbing stuck to those grabby little blades with and vengeance, and we were soon all using the same method. It was creepy, but it worked. What sticky stuff was left we would just have to let dry and scrape off later.

  By this time, Praja Waluu was recovered enough to tell us what he’d seen. “Believe it or not, there is another tunnel opposite the far end of the bridge. It’s bizarre, but it’s there.”

  We exchanged glances. There wasn’t any way to argue that this was a coincidence. Somebody had built that bridge at some point in the unimaginable past. Whether it was the men we were looking for, we couldn’t say, but there was only one way to find out.

  “But how are we going to get over that bridge?” Sanja asked. “It’s still blocked by that sluggeth, and the spiders will just fix the web.”

  There was a silence. Then Praja Waluu grabbed one of the few remaining lances and got to his feet.

  “Wait here. I have an idea.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Oh, no. The last time you said that you almost got killed. At least let me follow you.”

  He agreed and we climbed the bridge again until we could see the web. It was a ghastly sight. Although most of the web was in tatters, you could just barely see the sluggeth where it was trapped by a few large strands—and by the spiders that almost covered it. They were trying to find a weak spot, but its upper carapace was too tough and the feet and teeth that comprised its entire underside made attacking there a dangerous proposition. Still, it looked like every spider in the cavern was trying.

  “What are you going to do?” I whispered.

  “I’m going to put that sluggeth out of his misery,” he replied, and throwing back his arm, he sent the lance sailing through the air, through a couple of spiders and straight into the sluggeth. It stiffened and fell sideways, off the bridge into the lake below, taking a big swath of web and all the spiders with it. They hit with a huge splash and sank without a trace.

  Praja Waluu turned to me. “Ready to go on?”

  We knew we were on the right track when we came to the locked door.

  Chapter 35

  My Plan, Interrupted

  The first part of my plan was complete. I had established with our “host” that I was willing to offer my assistance, even if Maire disagreed. Her inadvertent cooperation in hammering that home had been frosting on the cake, as bitter a meal as that might make.

  That was to be the third part of my plan, not yet quite finalized, the part where I persuaded Maire to forgive me after everything I had put her through. I hoped that she would understand, when it was all over—but I had to hope as well that she would not understand until it was all over.

  The problem, of course, was Vanu’A. If she were as potent a telepath as Tofan Res claimed, Maire’s strongest shields would not be enough to hold her at bay, and I had to presume that Tofan Res was not lying. That meant I could not tell my wife anything about my real plans or suspicions, and that the safest course for both of us was for me to allow her to wallow in her own guilt, no matter how much it tore me up inside.

  On the other hand, to Vanu’A my mind was a closed book, which could not help but be quite disconcerting to her—and to her employer. It was my one advantage. Well, that and the fact that I now knew what Tofan Res was up to.

  He had refused my help, saying that his men were already trained. Obviously, that did not apply to the men I had seen; although they knew which end of a gun the bullets came out of, as we would say back home, that was it. None of them were part of his grand scheme. He had told me his army was waiting, three hundred years from now, but whoever they were, they had not originated here. This begged the question: Where had they come from?

  According to the Library, Tofan Res had made a study of the missing in action lists of the great battles of history. I had taken that to mean that he was poring over tactics, but I was wrong. Tofan Res had no need to for tactics; he had Farren to lead his men, and while Farren was no tactician, nor even a general, as Tofan Res had so aptly pointed out he had a battleship. And to fight the Nuum would hardly require specialized tactics. They were unprepared, ill-suited to battle, and under-supplied. Even a man like Farren could conquer if he had the right weapons at his fingertips, not to mention an army behind him. An army which appeared to include most of the Nuum’s fighting men.

  And he had a trained army, ready to serve because it had no choice. Tofan Res had been snatching soldiers from battlefields throughout history, focusing on the missing in action because their disappearance would cause no problems with history. His plan was flawless—except that he knew less about chronologic stresses than he thought, and bringing men back to this era, over hundreds or thousands of repetitions, had caused time rips that would soon become irreversible—and catastrophic.

  Tofan Res’s plan was going to succeed. He was going to wipe out the Nuum and return the planet to the Thorans. The only problem was that right after that he was going to wipe out the Thorans by destroying the entire solar system.

  The irony of this situation was not lost on me, nor that both Tofan Res and I were looking for our answers in the same place. He was searching through the Library for clues to where to find his recruits, and I needed the Library to find the information that might help avert the coming disaster. The difference was that he had his Library at his fingertips, and mine was three centuries away, and without Tofan Res’s help, I had no way to access it.

  This, then, was the second part of my plan: Get Tofan Res to send me back to Maire’s time to infiltrate the Procyon and retrieve th
e Library. The Librarian might be able to convince Tofan Res of the hazards of his actions. Together, Tofan Res and the Librarian might even devise a method of avoiding the consequences of the former’s careless experimentation. A forlorn hope, granted, but all I had. All the hope, in fact, that the whole world had.

  Naturally, there were a few details remaining to be ironed out: Persuading Tofan Res that he needed the Librarian, ensuring that I arrived only after the Procyon’s technicians had been given sufficient time to repair him, snatching the branch library out from under Lobok’s nose, and last but not least, hoping that my quick back-and-forth time jump would not prove the straw that broke the camel’s back and sundered the entire space-time fabric of this portion of the galaxy.

  This last would prove eternally ironic, but it was a necessary risk. Arriving on the Procyon at the right time was a matter of guesswork beyond my capabilities, while managing the heist itself should not be so long as the sphere was not being guarded heavily, a possibility I discounted. The only worrisome element was really the first: I needed a reason for Tofan Res to want the Librarian brought to him, and I would have only one chance to pitch it.

  I have never been much of a planner, and the fact that this one appeared to be going so well was a huge relief. Nevertheless, I was wandering more or less aimlessly in the corridors between our quarters and the dining room where I most often found Tofan Res while I tried to plot my next move. Needless to say, it was getting me nowhere. I had just resolved to throw caution (and perhaps the galaxy) to the winds and confront him without any preconceived remarks when I found myself face-to-face with the mysterious and beautiful Vanu’A.

  I say “beautiful” because, although I had naturally noticed her remarkable attractiveness upon meeting her, we had never stood quite this close before.

  “Oh!” She squealed and jumped backward, noticeably rattled—more so than I thought the situation demanded. “I’m sorry—I was looking for you, but…”

  Then it hit me: This was probably the first time in her life she had bumped into someone unawares! The casual collision with a stranger rounding a corner would never happen to a telepath who could sense every mind in her immediate vicinity.

  “Quite all right. It happens to me all the time. I am rather clumsy that way.” My attempt at gallantry came off stiff and awkward in her presence. Now that she had adjusted to meeting me, her poise had reasserted itself. She could have strolled into the Queen’s New Year’s Honors ceremony uninvited and no one would have barred her way.

  She actually smiled at me, not in a calculated fashion, but sincerely, and it transformed her face from a thing of beauty into a work of art.

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I mean, I’m glad we bumped together—not that you’re clumsy. Which I’m sure you’re not,” she added swiftly.

  Her smile was so lovely and so infectious that I was tempted to make some further light remark, but my words were forever lost as she suddenly seized my face between her hands, leaned forward, and kissed me full upon the mouth.

  Chapter 36

  My Plan, Continued

  I have to admit that for the merest moment—and the longest—I allowed her. I could claim surprise, and shock, and I do, but I cannot honestly say that I did not enjoy it. My romantic ventures have been few and far between, and after I met Maire I spent twenty years in a virtually monastic existence, and to be fair, Vanu’A could kiss a man in a way that could make twenty years fly past. And yet all the while one panicked part of my mind was screaming: “Stop! What if Maire sees you?”

  A great deal can run through your brain in the course of a second or two, which was how long it took me to wrench myself away from Vanu’A, who stood there, unresisting, eyes closed, wearing a look of bliss. She sighed contentedly before opening her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. But I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you.”

  I have never been so glad that Maire could never pluck my secrets from my thoughts, for I intended to take it to my grave. (As it turned out, I was once again underestimating her, both her perceptiveness and her common sense.) Still, for my own peace of mind, I needed to know more.

  “From our respective positions, I would not have expected that. I was rather more of the opinion that you were busy devising ways to kill me.”

  “I’m a very intelligent woman,” she said demurely. “My brain can do both at the same time.” Gingerly, she touched my arm, then pulled back. “What it can’t do is turn itself off.”

  “Ah.” I nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s like being in a room full of people who are talking all the time. I can shield myself from their thoughts, but they’re always there, in the background. Do you know how far away I have to go before I can’t hear anyone?” She sighed again. “Even here, I…”

  “What?” I prompted.

  “Never mind. I’m sorry I was carried away. Believe me, I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing it if anyone were nearby, particularly your wife.”

  “Thank you. I doubt that Dr. Res would be terribly fond on the idea, either.”

  Her eyes shifted sideways for a moment and her mouth twisted ever so slightly in a way I could not interpret. I moved quickly to apologize.

  “I did not mean—I mean, I hope I made no unwarranted presumptions.”

  Vanu’A giggled. “You are so full of surprises! And so thoughtful. I haven’t met many men as thoughtful as you. And even they…weren’t very full of surprises.”

  This was the irony of her life. Every human thought and emotion was an open book to her, regardless of whether she would choose to read it. There was no mystery, no gradual coming together of two souls struggling to find a way to communicate their growing feelings, in short, no falling in love. In the midst of a million minds, she was always lonely.

  “That’s why I suggested to Tofan Res that he recruit you.”

  My eyes went wide. “Recruit me? You?” I leaned in, but in a fashion no woman would take as romantic. “What do you mean?”

  Vanu’A bit her lip like a child who has just discovered that her harmless prank may have had serious consequences.

  “We’ve been time-travelling a lot between 300 years ago and now. We heard about you, and what happened in Dure, and I convinced Tofan Res that you were the man we needed to lead the Thorans. After all, you’d already done it once. But by the time he decided, you were gone. Tofan Res was able to determine that you’d gone back in time, but he had no way of telling when you were. He looked, but…all we knew was that you must be from long, long ago. That was why they called you the Ghost. And that was why I was so eager to find you. And then you showed up again, but Tofan Res had already chosen Lord Farren for your position. It took me a while to bring him around to the idea that you could still be useful.”

  “To him or to you?”

  “It depends on who you ask. You want something from Tofan Res, too, don’t you?” she asked, head cocked to one side.

  “And you said you could not read my mind…”

  “I don’t need to be able to read your mind to know you were standing in the hallway leading to his rooms. And I have read Maire’s mind. Her shields are good, but Tofan Res wanted to know as much about you as he could.… I’m sorry.”

  I had the distinct impression she was not used to apologizing to people for violating their privacy, but then, she could hardly spend her life apologizing.

  “I know about the time rips,” she continued. “Tofan Res doesn’t believe in them, but Maire certainly does, so I assume you do, too. And you came looking for the time machine to try to stop them.”

  “If you know all about why we came looking for him, perhaps you could persuade Tofan Res of our position. I was trying to think of a way to do it myself.”

  “Unfortunately, Tofan Res doesn’t like to take advice. Even if he’s obviously wrong, he’ll hold onto his positions out of sheer defensiveness.” She paused for a thought. “He’s lying to you, you know.”

  I debated for a moment whe
ther to admit the truth. “Yes, I know. I just wish I knew what he was lying about.”

  “I could tell you, but then he’d know that I told you. You have to figure it out for yourself so you can tell him how you knew.”

  “Is it that important? Would he hurt you if you told me?”

  She laughed softly. “No. But he wouldn’t respect you. You have to get him to respect you if you want him to listen to you.”

  Respect me? The genius who had mastered time travel? The man who thought he was going to conquer the world? Who had my wife and me in his grasp, who was letting us live simply so I could kill his enemy?

  Or perhaps this was Vanu’A’s game: If my thoughts were denied to her, her knowledge was likewise being denied to me.

  I had gotten one thing right. This game was being played on a very serious level. The only thing more serious was what was at stake should I lose.

  Chapter 37

  The Door Beneath the World

  I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up a little. Just because Praja Waluu managed to break the web on the bridge and send about fifty spiders and one ridiculously-big sluggeth into the lake to be dinner for the water monster didn’t mean the bridge was all of a sudden safe to cross. There had been a whole bunch of spiders running down the webs looking for their own dinner when the lines broke, and after a few seconds of hanging in mid-air like a bunch of greasy black wax statues, they ran back up to the ceiling, re-established their footholds, and came swinging down again. Apparently once the lunch bell started to ring, these morons got hungry, and nothing short of shooting holes in them could put them off their feed.

  Skull and I stood watch while Praja Waluu got everybody up and over safely. Finally Skull hit on the idea of attacking them where they live, and we started firing at the ceiling itself, which scattered the spiders and kept them away from the area right above our heads. Shooting at the ceiling was not a popular move among the klurath, but given the alternative, they ducked their heads and ran for it at a speed which normally would have scared me, but today only seemed too slow by half.