Storm on Venus

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Storm on Venus Page 24

by R. A. Bentley


  Wilfred saw that her usually alabaster skin was now distinctly flushed and her raven-black hair was all awry where she had been unconsciously running her hands through it. For a moment he wondered if she was going to hit him.

  I'd settle for Eriju,' he said quietly.

  For a while there was silence, and then she was in his arms.

  'I don't know which of us is the greater fool,' she sighed. 'Come, it is raining.'

  'We are indoors,' said Wilfred.

  'That was not my meaning,' said the Migraani demurely.

  Chapter 22

  Wilfred awoke to find Veleema tenderly brushing the hair from his eyes. It was quite as fair as Daphne's and she seemed fascinated by it.

  'When did you first know you loved me?' she asked.

  'From the moment I saw you crossing the croquet lawn at Hathercombe.'

  'That is nonsense. When exactly?'

  'Oh, I don't know. Perhaps when you brought your ray gun out from under your skirts — a glimpse of shapely thigh and a holster for a garter.'

  'That is lust! How like a man. Very well, I shall enquire no further.'

  'I was jealous, you know,' said Wilfred. 'I thought perhaps you favoured Veldo.'

  'Veldo!' Veleema shrieked with laughter. 'I should rather take a thaal to my bed. Besides, it is forbidden. We are cousins.'

  For a while they lay contentedly entwined, listening to the thunder and the rain beating on the roof. Wilfred wished it might never end. 'Am I to suppose that we are now man and wife?' he asked. 'I seem to recall something the Professor told us.'

  'Several times over my love,' giggled Veleema. 'But only if we were both to agree.'

  'Well I do if you do,' said Wilfred.

  Abruptly she raised herself on one elbow and gazed down at him. She seemed genuinely surprised. 'Oh Wilfred, my dearest. Do you really mean it? You do me the greatest honour, but you know I cannot make you my tuun.'

  'Why not? Is that also forbidden?'

  'No, but it cannot be. You must marry Pepseema.'

  'What!' It was Wilfred's turn to sit up. 'Is this a joke? I don't understand.'

  Veleema looked aggrieved. 'Of course it is not a joke. I do not make jokes about such things.'

  'But only minutes ago you told me you loved me!'

  'And I do, perhaps more than you can know. But surely you must realise my first duty is to the Voorni?'

  For a few moments they gazed at each other in mutual incomprehension, Wilfred suddenly close to tears.

  'Oh! How foolish I am,' cried Veleema. 'Wilfred, please forgive me. You are an Earthling; why should you understand? This is Venus, where marriage is purely a matter of expediency — a union of two houses or families. Lucky are those who find love there also. I want you for Pepseema because you are the best to protect and care for her. I am not asking you to choose between us. You shall have me always, only provided we are discreet.'

  Wilfred could feel a headache coming on as he struggled to grasp this new development. He wished he had taken more notice of the Professor's little lectures. 'It's not always so different on Earth,' he admitted. 'In fact it happens quite often, although it's not usually the suitor's lover who does the arranging! But why are you so eager that it should be me?'

  'Because you are a man of honour and cannot be bought, or threatened, or blackmailed or traduced by the Purple house, or by anyone else, and because you are brave and strong like the tiger that is not in Africa, and will always defend and protect her and never abandon her, no matter what may happen in the days ahead. I should never have expected to encounter someone so eminently suitable, let alone an Earthling, yet that also has its merits since there can no bad Venusian blood in you.'

  'But I no longer love her,' protested Wilfred. 'I don't think I could do it, even if she wanted me, which she doesn't.'

  'You loved her once, and she is very beautiful. Would it really be such an onerous duty?'

  There came a sudden banging on the window. It was his uncle, pointing urgently skywards. Throwing on his clothes, Wilfred dashed outside. The rain had stopped, and small in the distance was a spaceship, the noise from its engine a muted drone. A group of men and thaalid had gathered to watch it.

  'Albert saw you go in,' said Freddy apologetically.

  'We were discussing our defence strategy,' said Wilfred.

  'Never doubted it, old chap.'

  The Migraani joined them, looking as calm and self-possessed as she ever did. 'It is a Purple ship,' she said. 'I know the type.'

  At first it seemed it would pass them by, but eventually they realised it was slowly circling the crater, never quite approaching the surrounding hills. They watched it execute two complete circuits and begin a third.

  'It's making me giddy,' said Freddy. 'I suppose they're sizing us up.'

  'They are our gaolers, I think,' sighed the Migraani.

  After that, the ship never left them. And now, day and night, there was the sound of drums. The news they carried came only faintly over the hills, but the thaalid, with their preternatural hearing, missed nothing and brought disturbing reports of violent Purple incursions into Dameefu. Villages had been razed and their inhabitants slaughtered or driven into the jungle. Troops had also been seen in the uplands, and eventually a substantial force was discovered near the entrance to the ravine, although no attempt had yet been made to move into it.

  Discomfitted by recent events and reflecting that he probably understood the thaal mind better than that of the Venusian female – or any female for that matter – Wilfred set off one morning to visit to Hawghi's lakeside home, hoping to seek solace from his friend. But Hawghi had already gone from Torris Verga, taking with him only a spear-paddle and the tools of a kraatu fisherman's trade. It appeared that to become a popoti was an act of great ritual significance. Leave-taking was not part of it.

  'Will I see him again?' he asked. 'Where has he gone?'

  'Perhaps you will see him. He could be anywhere. Anywhere there is water.'

  On the way back he met his uncle.

  'You haven't forgotten our meeting with Ludo?'

  'No. I need to visit the tzin hanger anyway. I want to disperse them, provided I can get their drivers to agree; it's not safe to have them all in one place. Also, we ought to have a fire brigade. Any ideas?'

  'Why not have Albert organise it?' suggested Freddy. 'We've more or less finished the fortifications and his Venusian has come on pretty well since he took up with young Nista.'

  Wilfred smiled wistfully. 'First Ifty, then Albert. What about you Uncle? Have you some little widow hidden away?'

  Freddy shook his head, 'I doubt if I'd be seen as much of a catch. I feel about a hundred and probably look it. Just as well they haven't got proper mirrors here.'

  Glancing at the balding and emaciated old man limping along beside him, Wilfred felt a sudden pang of bitterness towards this world he'd embraced as his own. Venus is killing him, he thought, and may well kill us all before long. 'Sorry Uncle, I didn't mean . . .'

  'It's all right; take no notice. I'm not at my best today. I've got no energy and this confounded ant-sting is giving me gyp.'

  'Would you rather go home?'

  'No, I want to see what the old boy's been up to. You might slow down a bit.'

  Following the overgrown path between the ruined ships, they could eventually see the great bronze hall of the Fates and the straddling legs of the tower rising among the trees. But before they arrived, the steady clink of a pickaxe diverted them to a recently cleared patch of undergrowth a few yards from it. Standing in one of several shallow excavations, shovel in hand, was none other than the High Tuun, whilst the Professor, bent double, was digging. They were so engrossed in their work that they were visibly startled when Freddy called out a greeting.

  'Why, good morning gentlemen,' said the Professor, abandoning his pick. 'You are a little earlier than I expected but never mind. Let us visit our bronze friends.'

  'What's all this then, Ludo?' enquired Fred
dy, attempting to peer into the hole. 'Grave robbing'?'

  The Professor looked a little discomfitted, then chuckled indulgently. 'Goodness me, what an imagination you have, Freddy. We are wearing our archaeologist's hats today, aren't we Loris? It is proving to be a fascinating site, although dating is a problem of course. However, this is not what we asked you here to see.'

  With Loris's help he dragged a few planks over the hole, then plucking some leafy twigs from a nearby bush he bustled away towards the dome, leaving the others to follow.

  'Quite the little Howard Carter, ain't he?' said Freddy, as they followed him into the echoing interior. 'I wonder what he's got for us?'

  'It had better be something important,' sighed Wilfred. 'I've a thousand things to do, and who knows how long we've got?' It was some time since he'd last visited and he was surprised to see the floor now cris-crossed with trenches and dotted with piles of earth. Here and there something metallic dully glinted.

  'The original surface,' said the Professor, anticipating his question. 'In the event we needn't have bothered with it as our discovery was entirely fortuitous, although we found a few interesting artifacts.' He picked his way to the great central column and stopped in front of one of the encircling frieze of figures. Uniquely, it held not a weapon but something resembling an ornate scroll. 'Here he is. We call him the Gate Keeper. Loris, you must, of course, do the honours.'

  Grinning broadly, the High Tuun stepped forward and with a flourish pressed on the tip of the scroll. They heard a small click and the whole figure abruptly swung inwards, revealing a hidden doorway.

  'Well blow me down with a feather!' gasped Freddy. 'How on earth did you find that?'

  'I leant against it,' admitted Loris.

  Holding aloft his bunch of leaves, the Professor stepped inside. 'Come along now, it's quite safe. I hope neither of you minds lifts.'

  Wilfred didn't care for enclosed spaces, lifts not excepted. They were packed together in a narrow and featureless polished-bronze cylinder, and it was with a decided feeling of panic that he watched the door close seamlessly behind them. Not only was there no lift-boy, there appeared to be no buttons for him to press either, and had it not been for the glow of the leaves it would have been pitch dark. He was greatly relieved when only seconds later and without any intervening sensation of movement, they emerged into a small, circular room. Crossing to the window, he looked out.

  They were at the very top of the tower. The morning mist had risen, and far below was the entire caldera, with its lake and terraces and scattered villages. Immediately beneath them was the graveyard of ships, half hidden among lush vegetation.

  'Why, this is magnificent!'

  'It is wonderful,' agreed Loris. 'I could gaze upon it for hours.'

  The Professor had immediately busied himself at a bank of knobs and dials, which bore more than a passing resemblance to the controls of a spaceship.

  'It took us a good while to find a way in,' he explained, 'And but for Loris's piece of luck we may never have done so. It had always seemed to me that the tower could only be a part of some system of communication or control, and there must therefore be a room somewhere from which to do it. I never believed it to be simply a temple; if, indeed, it ever was one. Now if you gentlemen would care to observe closely that ruined ship nearest the tower, you may see something of interest.'

  Exchanging puzzled glances, Wilfred and his uncle did as they were told, pushing open a window the better to peer downwards. A hot breeze immediately stirred the dust of ages lying thick about the room. At first, nothing seemed to be happening, but then they noticed violent movement in the treetops many feet below them and saw that the plundered carcass of the enormous vessel was distinctly levitating, tearing itself free from the creepers and undergrowth that had for so long pinned it to the ground. The professor caused the broken remains to hover for while and then allowed them noisily to drop, terrifying into movement large numbers of flying and scurrying creatures.

  'Why, that's amazing!' declared Freddy. 'How is it done?'

  'I think we can assume that electromagnetism is involved,' said the Professor cynically. 'Whether we shall ever learn more, I rather doubt.'

  'But it's nothing but a pile of scrap,' said Wilfred. 'How can any of it work now? Are you able to do it with the others?'

  'Oh yes, if required. Each appears to have a switch assigned to it. But this larger one would, I believe, lift or ground them all simultaneously.'

  'So does this mean that nothing nearby can fly or even hover unless you allow it to, or is it just the ships we see beneath us? How far does the tower's influence extend?'

  'We don't know,' admitted the Professor, 'although in view of the proximity of that circling ship it would seem not to reach beyond the edge of the crater. If our Purple friend would only stray a little closer, we might be able to put it to the test. My hypothesis is that it's a security device, designed either to guard against unauthorised use of the ships or to prevent an enemy attack. It may, of course, be both.'

  'It doesn't appear to affect a hakijuk though,' said Freddy. 'The one we arrived in was able to land and take off without any difficulty.'

  The Professor nodded. 'That is true. However, from your description, Freddy, it appears that the Hakiid use some form of simple combustion engine, an entirely different type of motive power. That may be why their aircraft are not affected.'

  'And that's perhaps why the crippled thaal chose to bring us here in one,' mused Freddy.

  Wilfred nodded his agreement. 'From which it would follow that the Purples have always known about this place and its tower. It would also explain why they've been so slow to attack us. The fact that their ship seems to be taking care to stay outside the crater wall bears that out. If true, this will make quite a difference to our plans.'

  'There is more,' said the Professor. 'This is something with which you can help us, Wilfred. Do you have your ray-gun with you? Good. Then perhaps you will kindly direct its beam at some suitable object. May I suggest the tip of that tree down there?'

  Setting the little weapon at full power, Wilfred leaned out of the window and aimed at the top few branches of the tree. There was a faint puff of smoke, and they were gone.

  'Now do it again. Perhaps to the adjacent one.'

  Wilfred twice squeezed the trigger. 'Nothing is happening. Does this mean you can also turn off a ray gun?'

  'So it would appear. And the tzinid too, I expect. Anything that is powered in the same incomprehensible way as a spaceship.'

  Freddy shook his head in amazement. 'And to think we went to so much trouble to fortify the place, Why, it's practically impregnable as it is!'

  The High Tuun gave him a gratified little smile. 'You are all quite safe here in Torris Verga, Freddy, just as we said you would be.'

  They stood at the entrance to the vast hulk that acted as a hangar for the tzinid. Those still in working order were being prepared by their drivers to be marched into the relative safety of the forest. Meanwhile a team of mechanics laboured to replace the defective lower leg of another giant, reconnecting the complex arrangement of rods, pistons and wiring.

  'Will it last?' asked Wilfred.

  One of the mechanics, a human, sucked his teeth doubtfully. 'If the Fates permit. It is very worn, though better than the old one.'

  'I think you upset them a bit,' said Freddy, gazing up at the tower. 'It's a remarkable discovery, you know, and Loris did thank you for what you've done.'

  'I wasn't looking for thanks,' said Wilfred irritably. 'I'm just amazed by his complacency. It doesn't seem to matter that we have over thirty miles of border to defend, not to mention the ravine. Dameefu is swarming with Purple ishtaarid. How does he propose to turn them off? The tower gives us a fighting chance, that's all; it won't save us on its own.

  Two days later, the Professor's guess regarding the extent of the tower's influence was proven correct, if not in a way he might have predicted. A lookout signalled that their ever-circli
ng watcher had reversed its course and was rapidly overtaking another flying object. Even before they could clearly see it, they realised its quarry must be an erijuk; nothing else was that small.

  'There are three more, some way behind,' reported the eagle-eyed Freddy.

  'It must be Soldo Pu,' cried Veldo excitedly. 'No-one else can fly like that.'

  The tiny aircraft was following a jerky, erratic course, and their first impression was that its pilot was trying desperately to shake off his massive pursuer, but then they realised he was probably attempting to draw it away from his fellows, one of whom had a trail of glowing vapour pouring from a gash in his aircraft's side. It was a dangerous game, for the Purple ship was closing fast. Everyone gasped, as from its forward gun came a stab of coruscating blue light, but even as it did so, the intrepid flyer turned sharply away, rejoining his squadron in fine style as they hurtled in close formation over the crater wall.

  'No!' cried Freddy, frantically waving. 'Go back!'

  It was, of course, a futile gesture. Abruptly, the insect whine of their engines stopped, and everyone waited horror-struck for the inevitable crash. But then a miracle occurred. As if in response to some bizarre last trump, every ruined ship in Torris Verga began to stir into reluctant life. The engines of the erijukid restarted, and one by one sank gently to the ground a few yards from the palace. All, that is, but the damaged craft, which no longer answering to its controls, slid helplessly into the lake. Fortunately it was quite near a thaal village and many willing hands were there to pluck its luckless pilot from the water and bring him ashore.

  'It is a good omen,' smiled the Migraani. 'Come, let us greet them.'

  But Veldo had already gone bounding ahead and could be seen crushing his men to him one by one in a bear-like embrace.

  'Good old Ludo!' exclaimed Freddy, turning to wave up at the tower. 'He must have seen them coming.'

  But it turned out to be the High Tuun, who with great presence of mind and not a little bravery had briefly disabled the mysterious machinery that so effectively protected his fiefdom.

 

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