by Джеффри Лорд
Alone on the water, Blade found it hard to know exactly what to believe. It seemed possible that he was on a wildgoose chase. It seemed just as possible that some malignant intelligence was even now watching him from under the water, getting ready to strike.
On the shore orange glows told Blade that the watchers had lit fires. If those fires helped keep the watchers happy, so much the better. Blade began a slow, regular scan of a complete circle around him.
He didn't know how long it took him to scan that circle twelve times. He did know that on the thirteenth time, he spotted a faint light just above the water's edge on the hill with the stone building. It was so faint that he would never have seen it from the shore, or even from three hundred yards farther away. The light did not flicker, and it was a pale blue-white that Blade had never seen in any campfire in any Dimension. Perhaps a pocket of volcanic gas had ignited and was venting itself into the air?
Then the light began to come and go, not wavering but going on and off in what Blade quickly saw was a regular pattern. Two long-one short-two long. Then five longs in rapid succession, then a repetition of the first five. Over and over again, eight times. The blue-white light was artificial, and someone was signaling with it. Who would answer?
Blade began paddling the raft slowly toward the hill. Whoever built the microcircuitry he'd found in the reptile's head could undoubtedly build underwater detection devices able to pick up two shrimps mating five miles away, and radar able to pick up a mouse two miles off. They might not have either one on the hill. In that case he might be able to sneak up on the hill where the light shone and go hunting for the answers to a good many of his questions.
The hill was only a mile away, but it seemed to take hours before it started growing visibly larger. Not a breath of air moved to either slow Blade's progress or conceal the small sounds he could not help making as he paddled the raft steadily toward his goal.
He'd covered about half the distance when the light began signaling again. This time it went through the complete sequence four times. Now Blade could see that the light shone from among low, spreading trees that straggled along the water's edge. The remnants of an orchard, perhaps. Blade started bearing to the left. He wanted to come in on the opposite side of the hill from the light and sneak across the slope under cover of the trees.
The hill grew steadily larger in the darkness, and so did the light on it. On the shore the fires burned higher and higher, undisturbed. Whatever the signal light was doing, it hadn't yet called an attack by the sea reptiles on the watchers along the shore.
At last Blade could see that he was no more than a hundred yards from dry land. He was tempted to slip off the raft and swim the rest of the way in, to make a smaller target. But he couldn't be sure of safely anchoring the raft, or of finding it again in the darkness. He paddled in until the raft gently scraped over the top of a submerged tree and bumped solid ground. Blade leaped ashore, agile as a cat and even quieter, and tied the lead line around a stump.
If the signal light was manned, whoever was manning it hadn't detected him, didn't care about him, or was waiting for the right time to strike. There was no point in trying to guess which. Blade made sure that his bowstring was dry and that both swords moved freely in their scabbards. Then he began his slow stalk through the trees toward the blue-white light.
Around him the night was silent and dark except for the signal light ahead, the orange fire glow on the distant land, and the moon when the clouds let it shine. From time to time the trees cut off Blade's view of the signal fight, but they never entirely cut off his view of the water.
Suddenly the clouds opened wider than ever, as though a veil had been jerked away. The moon blazed down until it laid a silver trail across the water.
As if the moonlight had called it out of the depths, something black and glistening rose from the water into the silver path. For a moment Blade thought it was one of the great reptiles coming to the surface. Then he recognized the conning tower of a small submarine, and the foamy wake it left behind as it ran in toward the island. Half a dozen cylindrical objects seemed to be tied to the submarine's hull, giving it a hump-backed appearance.
Blade had to watch the submarine for only a minute to know that it was heading straight toward the signal light. He moved on again, more slowly and carefully than before. He didn't know what to expect-armed sentries, detectors, booby traps, land mines, or what. He was sure that whoever had set up the signal station and was now coming to inspect it must have provided it with some defenses.
If there were any, Blade passed through them as if he'd been an insect or a ghost. He came out on a ledge of rock uphill from the signal light, just as the submarine stopped about fifty feet offshore. In the glow from the light he could clearly make out who was operating it and who was swimming ashore from the submarine. He watched them and froze, barely breathing.
The signalers and the swimmers were not human. They stood eight or nine feet tall, and they looked like nothing so much as giant stalks of asparagus with four double-jointed arms ending in lobster-like claws. Instead of feet, they moved on a massive rippling suction disk at the base of the «stalk.» The ones swimming in from the submarine were encased from head to foot in flexible, transparent cylinders that left the arms and claws free for swimming. Blade could see air tanks and sacks of gear slung from a belt around each cylinder.
These beings were not human, but Blade had seen them before. Many trips to Dimension X in the past, he'd met them in a Dimension where they helped send out Ice Dragons to prey on the human inhabitants of a glacier-stricken world. The Ice Dragons had a human Ice Master, but ultimately they were the creation and the weapon of the advanced science of the Menel.
Yet the Menel were not creatures of any Earth or any Dimension. They came from deep space, across the great gulfs between the stars. From their distant, unknown home they had come to this world, in this Dimension. They had come and now they were settling down to do what?
Blade didn't know. All he had was a magnificent opportunity to find out and perhaps prevent it, if it was dangerous and he lived long enough. If he hadn't been so close to the Menel and still half stunned with surprise, Blade would have laughed out loud.
Now he probably had the answer to his first question-who was controlling the sea creatures? In finding the answer to that question, though, he'd raised at least fifty more!
Chapter 14
For the moment there was nothing to do but hide and watch the Menel at work for as long as he could. Somehow they hadn't detected his presence, which was distinctly odd. The great stronghold of the Menel under the polar ice of the Dimension of the Ice Dragons had been an incredible display of advanced technology in a dozen fields.
If the Menel had wanted to guard their signal station and rendezvous, they could easily have done so. They could have made it impossible for anyone as poorly equipped as Blade to approach it. That he was here within fifty feet of the Menel, alive and undetected, suggested that the Menel hadn't thought to guard the area at all.
Why? They might despise the inhabitants of this Dimension as hopelessly primitive. So primitive, in fact, that there could be no danger of an attack from them. In that case the Menel might be in for a rude surprise before this night was over.
Or perhaps they didn't have the necessary equipment. Certainly the eight Menel now in sight seemed to have plenty of gear of one sort or another. Blade saw tools adapted to their claws, stacks of gleaming plastic disks, two unmistakable lasers, an array of boxes and tubes that might hold anything. The two signalers had the light and a large metal box with a control panel on one side and wires leading from the other side down into the water. There was nothing that looked like a weapon or a detection device in sight, except possibly the lasers. Even they looked like drills or more signaling devices rather than weapons.
In spite of their lack of alertness, Blade knew that he was really too close to the Menel for safety. They might not be expecting visitors, but he knew they
had better night vision than human beings. He didn't know what their hearing was like. Under those circumstances, it might be as dangerous to move back as to stay put.
His present position also had one advantage. He was close enough to the Menel so that he could charge in among them in a matter of seconds. They were slow moving on their disks, although the four claw-equipped arms could strike fast and far. If he could get in among them quickly enough, Blade was fairly sure he could do as much damage as might be needed. Possibly he wouldn't get out alive, but almost certainly he would take most of the Menel with him.
If he got in among them. Blade wasn't going to lift a finger against the Menel until he knew what they were doing. From his experience with them in the Dimension of the Ice Dragons, he doubted they were harmless or friendly here. But harmless or not, they were intelligent beings from another world. The first time he fought them, he'd refused to kill a helpless Menel and actually given first aid to a wounded one. He'd follow the same policy here.
Blade didn't know if anything more would come of this second meeting with the Menel than had come of the first one. He didn't know how often the Menel's travels among the stars (and perhaps among the Dimensions?) might bring them into contact with human beings. He did know that he would do everything he could to make the Menel realize that human beings did not kill them on sight. If that idea could sink into the brains that lay somewhere in those mammoth asparagus stalks, it might open a new direction for the history of both races.
It seemed like an hour but it must have been only a few minutes more before the Menel started their night's work. One of the two signalers at the control panel started twisting switches and pulling levers. The box began to hum quietly to itself, like a distant hive of sleepy bees. Triangular patches that might be dials or indicators began to glow faintly, purple, gold, and green.
Three of the other six Menel opened one of the boxes and pulled out dark plastic tubes. They looked like hypodermic syringes or sprays, but they were four feet long and as thick as a man's arm. All six of the Menel not busy at the control panel began putting on their diving gear again.
This time it was nearly an hour before anything else happened. Then suddenly the night's stillness was ripped apart. The hissing roars of a number of the great reptiles sounded close at hand. Blade looked out to sea, in time to watch the fanged heads and dark humped backs rise into view.
Then Blade saw them begin to swim toward him and the Menel. He could count nine of them, and he had the distinct impression that six of them were herding the other three toward the shore, like dogs herding sheep.
As the reptiles approached land five of the six Menel divers slipped into the water. They were carrying one of the lasers, the syringes, and several other pieces of equipment whose use Blade couldn't guess.
The Menel swam out toward the approaching reptiles. They were not particularly graceful in the water, but with three of their four arms beating steadily they moved surprisingly fast. Blade found himself forced to respect the courage of the five swimmers. It seemed likely that some of the approaching beasts were under control by the two signalers. That didn't mean it was safe to swim up to those jaws that could bite a Menel in half as easily as a man.
The last of the Menel reached into one of the opened boxes and drew out what Blade recognized as a weapon. He'd seen the Menel carrying them in the land of the Ice Dragons, when they came up from their underground base to put down a rebellion among their human guards and servants. The weapon was a six-foot black tube with a red lens set in one end. The Menel held it crosswise with two arms, rather like a man holding a submachine gun.
Now the nine reptiles were nearly in shallow water. Four of the six herders surrounded two of the others, hissing and butting them in the side to drive them away from the Menel swimmers and from the submarine. The other two herders pushed the last reptile in toward the Menel, who went splashing out to meet it.
The arms of the two signalers now moved furiously as they sent out increasingly complex signals to the beasts they were controlling. In the darkness they looked like grotesque idols in some Oriental temple, come to life and performing some impossible and inhuman dance. Their attention seemed completely fixed on the sea and their five comrades. The same was true of the armed Menel, who seemed to be in charge of whatever was going on here.
The five swimmers surrounded the «wild» reptile. A shot of anaesthetic left it semiconscious. One of them clamped a disk to the top of its skull. Another pressed the laser against the scaly hide and activated it. A brief red glow, and hide and skull parted.
A third Menel raised one of the electronic brain implants. Another few seconds' work with the laser, and the implant settled into place. From another of the tubes shot a fine mist of what was probably an antiseptic. Then the skull and hide were closed and the whole incision sealed with another brief burst of the laser. The last step in the operation was an injection to counteract the anaesthetic. The reptile shook its head, hissed faintly, then permitted the two herders to drive it into deeper water.
Blade crouched in the darkness, realizing that he'd just seen a breathtaking display of advanced technology and skilled surgery. He also realized that the Menel would have to be treated as enemies. They were using their knowledge to implant in the sea reptiles-and no doubt the bat-birds-the control devices that made it possible to drive them against the Kargoi. Exactly why they were doing this Blade didn't know, but he did know one thing-tonight's operations should be stopped. He would be as careful as he could be to avoid killing any of the Menel. He would be just as careful to leave not one bit of their equipment intact or one of their implanted monsters alive.
There was only one weapon in sight, the tube held by the Menel commander. If he could disable or capture it, that should be a good enough start. After that he couldn't plan in too much detail. He didn't know his enemy that well.
Blade waited as two more of the herders drove one of the wild reptiles toward the waiting surgical team. He waited long enough after that for the operation to begin, and draw the attention of all the Menel.
Then he sprang to his feet and charged down the slope to the attack.
Chapter 15
The Menel were so intent on what was happening in the water that Blade probably could have charged down on a horse without alerting them. He had seldom been able to take an opponent so completely by surprise.
He threw one spear with all his strength at the control box. He aimed between the two Menel, and the spear sank a foot deep into the box. The humming died instantly and most of the lights went out. The two signalers turned to face Blade, but since neither of them was armed he ignored them.
He charged the Menel commander, letting out his breath in a roaring battle cry as he went, hoping to startle or distract the being. The Menel was just beginning to turn on its base, the arms that held the weapon swinging upward, when Blade came in with a leaping side kick. Both feet drove into the Menel with all of Blade's speed and all of his two hundred and ten pounds behind them. The Menel weighed half again as much, but it was caught too far off balance. It tottered, the two free arms flailing the air wildly, claws snapping within inches of Blade. Then it went over on its side with a thud and a peculiar warbling cry.
Blade recovered while the Menel was going over. As it landed he was on top of it, striking with the flat of his longsword at the two arms holding the weapon. He not only didn't want to hurt the Menel, he didn't want to damage the weapon if he could avoid it.
The Menel shivered all over at the impact of Blade's sword. One of the claws gripping the weapon opened feebly, the other clicked convulsively, trying to tighten its grip. Blade grabbed the free end of the weapon and jerked it loose. He sprang away from the fallen Menel, just as the two signalers made up their minds to charge him.
They lurched across the ground at him faster than he'd thought they could move, so fast that he had no time to find out how to activate the weapon. He sprang aside from their charge, dropping his longsword and g
ripping the Menel weapon in both hands like a quarterstaff. He held it crosswise in front of him as the claws reached out.
One of the lunging claws struck the firing control. A beam of eye-searing crimson light darted from the lens at the muzzle. Air crackled and boomed as the crimson beam tore through it.
In the path of the beam lay three full grown trees. Without smoke or flame, sparks or even very much noise, the beam sliced through all three of them as if they'd been straws. Broken branches and solid pieces of wood fell to the ground with cracklings and thuds.
Blade hastily backed away, slapping the square plate that seemed to be the trigger for the beamer. The beam cut off. The two Menel signalers backed away almost as fast as they'd charged, separating as they went. Blade swung the beamer down and aimed it at the control box. The weapon was awkward to handle, being designed for beings nine feet tall, but it weighed no more than twenty pounds.
As they saw Blade taking aim, the two Menel seemed to panic. They slammed all four claws down on the ground and heaved themselves wildly along. In their fear they were so grotesque and ludicrous that Blade burst out laughing.
He fired again. The crimson beam sliced into the control box, and it fell into two pieces as neatly as any piece of meat divided by a hutcher's cleaver. Blade fired again, running the beam along the wires leading into the water, watching them jump and twist and dissolve like sugar lumps dropped into hot coffee.
By this time the Menel commander was heaving itself erect again. One claw clumsily gripped Blade's longsword. Two other claws reached out for the remaining laser. Blade ducked under a wild swing of the sword and fired the beamer with the lens held almost against the laser. The laser fell into half a dozen pieces and something inside it blazed up fiercely with an angry hiss and a cloud of stinking green smoke. The Menel dropped the last piece as if it had suddenly turned red hot and backed away, swaying from side to side like a tree in a high wind. It stood there for a moment. Blade had the sense of being stared at intently and judged by nonhuman senses and a still more nonhuman but keen intelligence. Then the last Menel turned and followed the two signalers toward the water. Blade went to work with the beamer, systematically wrecking every container and piece of equipment in sight.