Storm on Venus

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Storm on Venus Page 11

by R. A. Bentley


  They had now been travelling for some fifteen weeks, much of that time in the wrong direction, and cabin-fever had begun to set in. The excitement of space-travel had long since paled and all anyone wanted now was to feel solid earth beneath his feet and see something other than the cold, unblinking stars. In addition to the general feeling of claustrophobia, clean water was beginning to run short, and the constantly recirculated air smelled and tasted, as Freddy put it, like a dog's blanket. As for their diet, it had come largely to consist of paan, the Venusian bread. This cardboard-like substance had previously been considered inedible by most of the Earthlings, though Wilfred claimed to find it agreeable enough when liberally spread with jam. Alas, there was no more jam.

  The Venusians were not immune to the general malaise, growing increasingly impatient and short-tempered. The Migraani unfairly criticised her royal pupil, provoking more tears, and the Tuuntu developed the unattractive habit of publically chewing his nails. Neither appeared to make the least connection between their ill-use of the thaal and their subsequent delay. Indeed, the Tuuntu was in the habit of encouraging the unfortunate creature to greater efforts by cuffing him savagely about the head and shoulders. 'Faster, you inshek,' he would cry. 'Unless you wish to feel the tickle of my whip again. Time is of the essence.'

  Only Daphne remained equivocal about their now imminent arrival. In a rare moment of public candour she admitted as much at breakfast. 'I'm so frightened, I'm sick with it,' she said. 'I feel such a fraud.'

  'Nonsense, my dear,' said Charles. 'You are every inch a queen. Indeed, I can no longer imagine you as anything else.'

  Wilfred was not impressed by this belated effort at reassurance. You don't give a damn about her, he thought. You just want the power she'll bring you. He and Daphne had long since made up their quarrel and were now firm friends again. It could even be said they were intimates, though not in the way that Wilfred nightly dreamed of. He knew he was in danger of becoming like a brother to her, but how could he not give her the comfort of his undemanding company when she so obviously needed it?

  Not only did Charles seldom spend time with Daphne, he never showed her the slightest affection, at least in public. After a while it occurred to Wilfred that he might be visiting her secretly at night, and torturing himself with the thought he decided to keep vigil outside Daphne's apartments. No-one came except the Migraani, en-route for the piano. 'I couldn't sleep,' he explained.

  'It is space,' said the Migraani sympathetically. 'I am in the same case.'

  But he could tell that she didn't believe him. Moments later he heard the opening bars of a Chopin impromptu. She was, he thought, coming on remarkably well.

  Later, returning to the dining room to recover a book he'd left there, Wilfred heard the Migraani and the Tuuntu in conversation. Something about their voices told him they would not welcome his presence and he hovered uncertainly at the door.

  'I am most concerned,' said the Tuuntu. 'We are already severely overdue. Suppose we arrive too late?'

  'It is unfortunate,' agreed the Migraani, 'but we allowed a good margin, and even a day or two should be enough. One sight of the Holy Mark and the drums will do the rest. By second nightfall every thaal on Venus will know of it.'

  'And they will not resist?'

  'I have told you; the risk is too great. Only be strong, and remember - we must not fail!'

  Chapter 11

  Once the scales had fallen from their eyes, the Earthlings wondered how they could ever have failed to notice the great spaceship's state of decrepitude. The signs of it were everywhere, from the unreliable armagijt to the barely functioning plumbing and the deep wear on the bronze stair-treads, noted by the Professor. Furthermore, it was now clear that Hawghi was the only individual aboard who had the least understanding of how anything worked. This alarming ignorance on the part of the Venusians was compounded by a petulant refusal by the Tuuntu to accept, despite abundant evidence to the contrary, that anything of Venusian manufacture could ever go wrong.

  Even Hawghi seemed to regard the numerous items of broken and faulty equipment as a perfectly normal state of affairs, about which little could be done. Once or twice they found him on his knees, poking despondently at a mass of blackened wiring, and on another occasion he requisitioned a shoelace in order to secure some loosely hanging equipment, but he was never seen to attempt the regular maintenance that such a complex mechanism surely required. This caused Charles to propose that they convene their emergency meeting in the engine room, on the ground that they were most unlikely to be disturbed there; the price of such rare privacy being not only the heat, the dirt and the cramped conditions but disturbing little blobs of bluish light that would suddenly appear from nowhere and float around them.

  'Can we be sure there's no televisor thingamajig watching us?' asked Freddy, mopping his sweating brow. 'There are many places it could be hidden.'

  'I've taken the precaution of disconnecting the receiver,' said Charles. 'I've also instructed Simms to keep cave, just in case anyone gets curious about our absence.'

  The Professor sighed heavily. He looked even more dishevelled than usual and seemed suddenly to have grown older. 'I must take full responsibility for this,' he said. 'How could I have been so foolish? If I could only see a way out of our situation, it would not be so bad, but I regret I cannot.'

  'No, My Lord, with respect, that won't do,' said Charles. 'We are all equally to blame. We have all of us been blind to what now seems glaringly obvious.'

  'I agree,' said Freddy. 'But perhaps we shouldn't judge ourselves too harshly. When emissaries from Venus arrive in a spaceship, and that ship is fully expected, one is naturally inclined to take them at face value. It was hard enough to reconcile oneself to the fact of their existence, let alone question their motives.'

  'Besides, we have little idea how Venusians think or behave,' said Wilfred 'We have only the example of these two. For all we know, it may be considered perfectly acceptable to rely on a sick and ill-used thaal to navigate by instinct a barely serviceable vessel through the vastness of space, even when bringing home one's uncrowned queen. It seems to me that our present doubts must be based entirely upon one overheard fragment of conversation. The other facts of the situation may seem to reinforce that, but by themselves prove nothing.'

  'True,' said Charles. 'But to my mind that fragment is pretty damning. Whatever they're planning, they're clearly up to no good or they wouldn't be doing it behind our backs. And surely we must assume that even the Venusians are rational beings. Without their irreplaceable queen-goddess their entire society would face destruction. Would they really entrust her safe delivery to a single noblewoman and a foppish, not very bright young man? Commonsense should have told us to expect the flagship of the fleet, adequately crewed, with an admiral in command and a dozen fawning courtiers to minister to Her Highness's every need. Yes, and very likely some auxiliary vessels as well, in case of accident or breakdown. In short, nothing would have been left to chance. We should at least have been suspicious, yet we went like lambs to the slaughter.'

  'I had assumed that this was their equivalent of a royal yacht,' said Wilfred. 'It has the royal apartments after all, and the throne room and the ornate entrance.'

  'No, I don't believe so,' said Charles. 'I'll tell you what I think. This isn't a royal ship at all, but a battered old cargo vessel, with the thrones and banners and that ridiculous marquee erected in what is normally the hold. Their intention was to trick us aboard; or rather, to trick Daphne, for they could hardly have bargained for the rest of us. Unfortunately, it worked.'

  'Charles, you are right!' cried the Professor. 'And knowing what I did, I should have been the most suspicious of all. I am so deeply ashamed. I thought I had done rather well in my negotiations and helped to secure Daphne's future, but it was nothing but self-deception, and worse, a sort of intellectual cupidity. I so wanted to study their advanced technology and, of course, to visit Venus. I have put all our lives in danger
by my selfishness.'

  'You're certainly not alone in that,' said Wilfred. 'I freely admit that the prospect of such a marvellous adventure made me quite reprehensibly incautious. I don't care for myself, but I am most distressed to think that I might have thereby imperiled Miss Lambent.'

  'Well, now that we've thoroughly berated ourselves,' said Freddy. 'What are we going to do about it? I suppose we can assume they're bent on kidnap?'

  'There could be other explanations,' said the Professor. 'But from what we know of Venusian society, that seems the most likely. They are perhaps acting for some desperate and ingenious tuuntu who has somehow discovered Daphne's hiding place and intends to steal her for himself.'

  'Not our own tuuntu, surely?' said Wilfred. 'Unless he's been deliberately playing the fool.'

  'I doubt even a Venusian can act that well,' said the Professor dryly. 'He was probably considered expendable, should the worse happen. This plot must surely carry risks for the plotters also.'

  'If I thought it was our tuuntu,' declared Charles, 'I should willingly put him out into the vacuum of space with my own hands!'

  'Can we even be sure that they are who they say they are?' asked Freddy. 'They could be no more than common rogues, out to sell Daphne to the highest bidder.'

  'Nothing is impossible,' agreed Wilfred, 'but you are forgetting the thaal. Much as I admire Hawghi's abilities, I don't believe he's capable of such a complex deception. If he says he has worked for the Migraani in her palace I'm strongly inclined to believe him.'

  'I hope you're right,' said Charles. 'If she is what she says she is, we may yet be able to appeal to her better instincts.'

  'Could we not seize the ship and turn it around?' suggested Freddy. 'We have them greatly outnumbered, and Hawghi would presumably follow Daphne rather than the Migraani. She is his goddess, after all. She has only to command and he will surely follow.'

  'That, unfortunately, is not possible,' said the Professor. 'You are forgetting that we are nearly out of fresh water. One or two people might come through, but not all of us.'

  'And even if we were well-provisioned,' said Charles, ' we have no idea how much fuel we have left. We don't even know what that fuel is, or how to obtain it. As far as I can see, it's Venus or nothing.'

  'Well at least we now know something is amiss and can be on our guard,' said Wilfred.

  'That, I think, is the best that can be said,' agreed the Professor. 'We will just have to pretend that all is well and look for a chance to exercise some control over our fate. Perhaps when we have reached our destination, we may find a way of escaping and delivering Daphne to her throne. Charles, you had best tell Simms what we know, but not, I think, Agnes. She is very young and might inadvertently give something away. Also her obvious innocence might help to allay any suspicions they may have of the rest of us. When the time comes to act, our best weapon may be surprise.'

  'Perhaps the same should go for Miss Lambent,' said Wilfred boldly. 'She is under enough strain as it is and any more might prove too much.'

  Charles looked displeased. 'I rather think I should be the judge of that, Carstairs.'

  'I'm afraid I agree with Carstairs,' said the Professor. 'She has not been entirely herself for some time, and I'm beginning to fear for her health. It is your decision, Charles, of course, but in my opinion it would do her no good to know at this stage. Furthermore she is constantly in the presence of the Migraani and one slip could ruin us all.'

  No longer just a point of light, Venus was now perceptibly growing, rushing to intercept them on the course their long-eared navigator had set. At last they arose one morning to find it crowding out the stars, its great white orb filling the ship with a soft, reflected light. Unlike the Earth at that distance it was entirely featureless, its mysterious surface hidden beneath a dense layer of cloud.

  'Hawghi, place us in orbit,' commanded the Migraani.

  Dressed for disembarkation, the weary travellers had assembled on the bridge, the Earthlings eager for their first view of an alien world. Even their doubts regarding the intentions of their hosts were temporarily forgotten in their fascination with the prospect beneath them.

  'One cannot so much as identify the poles,' marvelled the professor. 'Is the cloud very thick, Tuuntu?'

  'It varies,' said the Venusian. 'But it never goes away, even for an instant. Our skies may be many lovely shades of grey, or sometimes a perfect, lustrous white, but they are never blue. Look there! Did you see that flash of lightning? And over there also. It will be raining below.'

  'Does it rain very much on Venus?' asked Wilfred.

  'Oh yes — every afternoon at about the third glass. Heavy, heavy rain. You would not wish to be out in it.'

  'And me without an umbrella,' sighed Freddy. 'The one thing I forgot.'

  'Permit me to lend you one of mine,' said the Tuuntu magnanimously. 'It is greatly superior to your Earthling ones; you will be amazed by it. Some still wear the tijtfuaar, a large conical hat, but an umbrella is now an essential item for the fashionable.'

  'Talking of which,' said Daphne, 'are you quite sure this frock is suitable?' For at the Migraani's insistence they were both wearing the rather outré ensembles they had bought during their long-ago trip to Bournemouth. 'Perhaps I should alter the hem a little,' she added. 'If there's still time.'

  'Nonsense, it is perfect as it is,' said the Migraani. 'Every Venusian woman waits eagerly for the latest fashions from Earth, and this, the servant girl assured me, is absolutely . . . what was the expression she used? Ah yes, the cat's pyjamas. Tell me, what are pyjamas?'

  'They are clothes for wearing in bed, Migraani,' explained Agnes. 'Trousers and a little jacket.'

  'Really? How curious to wear clothes in bed! But then, I know nothing of cats.'

  'You did say there would be only a few people to greet us, didn't you?' said Daphne, not much reassured. 'There won't be big crowds or a procession or anything of that sort?'

  'No, no, have no fear of that. There will be a few local dignitaries and my own small household, that is all.'

  'Your household?' queried Charles. 'Won't we be going straight to the Palace?'

  The Migraani gave him a regretful little bow. 'Forgive me, Mr Prendergast, I should have explained sooner. It was thought best that the Voorni should spend a few days recuperating from her journey before being pitched into the hurly-burly of life at Court. I have much to do in my own province, and it seemed logical to have her stay there with me. It will give her the opportunity informally to meet her advisors and also to become acquainted with our Venusian food, customs and weather. My capital city, Erijuaan, is very beautiful and I hope you will enjoy its many diversions, but if you become bored I am sure we can arrange for some suitably exciting hunting.'

  'And the coronation?' asked the Professor. 'When will that be?'

  Glancing at Hawghi, the Migraani lowered her voice to a discreet whisper. 'My lord, this is Venus. The thaalid will know well enough that the new Queen-Goddess is not the same individual who until recently occupied the golden throne, but to draw attention to that fact by a coronation would be a gross insult to their religion. From the moment she sets foot upon her world, she will be what she has always been: the immortal Voorni, bearer of the Holy Mark. I must remind you that all formalities shall immediately be observed, and you must particularly remember that no-one may approach or speak to her without first asking permission.'

  'Who gives this permission?' asked Charles.

  'The First Lady of the Bedchamber, or in Venusian, the Tantulaar.'

  'And when shall we meet this personage?'

  'You have already done so. It is the Migraani of the Blue'.

  'Of course; my apologies,' said Charles. 'Clearly you have everything well planned.'

  'That is my function, Mr Prendergast,' said the Migraani, and gave him one of her rare smiles.

  Several times they passed from day to night as Hawghi encircled the planet, gradually slowing the ship before entering the atmos
phere. For a while they seemed almost to skim the cloud's dense whiteness, as solid-looking as a snowfield, but at length they dipped and plunged downwards. For what seemed a frighteningly long time they could see nothing. Then, quite suddenly, they were out of it, and everyone crowded to the windows, some with their noses pressed to the glass, others kneeling and peering beneath them.

  'Oh look, Mr Simms — trees!' cried Agnes. 'Trees as far as you can see. And a river, with boats. Why, it's almost like home!'

  'I'd hardly say that,' muttered Simms. 'Gloomy, I calls it.'

  Certainly the Venusian landscape was not as alien as it might have been, but it could never be mistaken for Earth. The colours were wrong, and the shapes. The seemingly endless vegetation was of the darkest imaginable green, while the great, meandering river and its many tributaries where ribbons of dull pewter, unrelieved by any glint of sunlight. Dotted incongruously about this watery landscape were strange, flat-topped, basalt-black mountains, their sheer sides rising directly out of the jungle, while flying above them, providing the only splash of colour in an otherwise drab and forbidding world, were immense numbers of rainbow-hued, birds. As the ship passed through a flock of them, a good many slammed against the glass of the windows, leaving behind a spattering of gore.

  'The river is the Erijunegli,' said the Migraani, ignoring this carnage. 'My home is on that mountain, directly ahead.'

  Following a steadily increasing stream of waterborne traffic they soon found themselves looking down upon the provincial capital, its close-packed dwellings crowding to the very edge of the mountain's flat summit. Small squares and gardens, bright with flowers, filled the spaces between them and there were flowers too on the ornate balconies of the houses. Many of these jutted vertiginously out over the surrounding jungle, perhaps a quarter of a mile below. Here the river split in two, flowing close under the mountain's precipitous sides. Several lifts could be seen carrying produce up from the busy quayside.

 

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