‘Tell your father’s astronomers to buy themselves a telescope,’ I growled, climbing up into the saddle.
Chebarbar snuggled up in front of me and we were off, the girl pointing out the way. The landscape became almost pretty. We passed through great plantations of holly, with berries the size and colour of oranges. Indeed, they tasted quite like oranges, except for an unpleasant tang about them that Chebarbar said was neon, an inert gas tapped from the air by the plants’ sharp leaves.
As we ate, we heard people approaching. Entering painfully into the holly thicket, we persuaded our steed to lie down, and lay beside him ourselves. Some of the Ungulph’s men appeared; Chebarbar learned from what they were saying that they searched for her; she clung tightly to me …
At last we picked ourselves up and went on.
Beyond the plantation the ground rose. Mounting the incline, we found at the top the lip of a shallow crater perhaps a mile in diameter.
I gazed at it in awe, for it was an impressive, though dreary, sight. An island stood in the middle of the crater, and on this island stood a castle built, as it seemed, of a random pile of flaking slate. It had no regular shape, no windows, no towers. Its plane surfaces were as dull as death.
‘The castle of the Squexie Oxin,’ Chebarbar said, clinging to my arm.
There was no way of getting to the ghastly castle. The island on which it stood was surrounded with a sort of oily water that filled the crater to its lip. There was no bridge.
Everything about us was absolutely still, the holly plantation behind, the great bright landscape ahead. It might all have been a weird, meaningless painting, quite without life, but for the waters of the crater. They bubbled and moved like a mindless creature heaving in its sleep. In one place in particular, in a line stretching from rim to island, the liquid milled and tumbled.
Diving in and out of this stuff, flying, then diving again, were strange birds like plucked pelicans. From the eminence on which we stood we heard their desolate cries.
We stood there in a kind of trance – and so were easily surrounded by the Ungulph’s men, who burst from the holly bushes. Ten of them, miscellaneous-shaped brutes, stood there, waving tentacles, claws or swords at us. This time I knew I would need more than cunning to save us from death.
I was seized before I could move. My hands were pulled behind my back by a sort of ox-head insect who stank of fish. Chebarbar was also seized, and a rough paw clapped across her mouth to stop her screams.
Yet the screams went on. The creature who held me drew a great sword and pointed it at my chest. Then he, too, as the others were doing, paused to see who screamed. It was one of the Ungulph’s men. His shaking claw went to the horizon beyond the Squexie’s castle.
Into the bright sky there was growing a great fan of blackness. At its edges it was a pallid grey, in the centre it was as dark as midnight. Though the three suns still burned in the sky, they had no effect on that segment of night.
The impression this produced on the Ungulph’s men was immediate. They let go of us and turned to run for shelter in the plantation. Chebarbar and I were miraculously free again.
‘The Black Sun’s rising!’ Chebarbar cried, and she too would have run away in panic had I not grasped her tightly.
‘Now we can call on the Squexie,’ I said.
In their haste to get away the soldiers had dropped a sword, a bundle of disgusting food, a primitive lantern and a cloak of skins. Picking up the cloak, I put it around Chebarbar, who shivered though it was still hot. I thrust the sword through my belt, hung the lantern over my shoulder, and kicked the food away.
The birds in the crater had fallen silent. All was quiet everywhere. That great black fan was spilling over the horizon into the sky.
Over the crater’s oily contents a thick mist was forming. Colour whirled in it, so that I was reminded of the rainbow curtain that stood before the Interpreter’s house; this made me think that if there were AM material in the crater, it would probably cause the curious disturbance of the waters. Proof of this theory seemed to be that the mist was especially dense over the turbulent strip. As the sky grew darker, the mist became thicker and brighter.
Now more than half the sky had turned ashy grey or else completely black. The three suns still shone, but their power had left them. They were as useless as balloons against the encroaching dark.
Then the Black Sun rose over the horizon!
Just for a moment I saw it clearly by the light of the other suns. It was a great sooty ball, crammed with darkness, radiating blackness. A chilly wind swept the land. Though the other three suns still burned in the sky, they were fast disappearing. Everything turned to night.
Never tell me you have seen a fearful sight until you have stood on Glumpalt and watched the Black Sun rise!
It absorbs all light like blotting paper, and an intense cold prevails. The explanation of this unique phenomenon soon occurred to me. Bearing in mind the origins of Smith’s Burst, it became obvious that this monstrous, impossible sun was a ball of antimatter of such strength that even its visible emissions were of reverse polarity.
The darkness that embraced us was complete. Shivering, I pulled the primitive lantern from my shoulder and attempted to light it.
It gave forth no light. Only the fact that I burned my finger on it assured me that it was functioning. The AM radiations of the Black Sun had blanketed it entirely. Though I held it before my eyes until my eyebrows singed, I could see nothing.
Yet a light was visible ahead of us.
Seizing Chebarbar’s hand and the bridle of the tiger-rhino, I ventured cautiously to the lip of the dark crater.
The thick mist that spanned the water had frozen solid. Glowing with many hues, it illuminated its own way over the waters. No doubt a certain AM content explained its luminosity.
‘A way to Squexie Oxin,’ Chebarbar murmured. ‘I told you it was available only when the Black Sun rose. Come, I am not afraid.’
For myself, I could not say as much. At any time I would have been loath to visit that frowning castle; at this forbidding midnight, doubly so. Moreover, I hated to trust myself to that fragile bridge. As we stepped onto it, it groaned in protest.
Leaving our steed on the bank with instructions to remain, we ventured forward. Once we were onto the bridge, it was steady enough, being of the consistency of firm snow. We sank up to our ankles in it but no more.
Thus we came to the island and to the castle of the Squexie. As we reached it, a slab of it fell inward. A piping voice uttered words that Chebarbar translated to me as ‘welcome’. We passed in, Chebarbar swinging her talisman, and found a fire, giving forth warmth and light. The flames came from a sort of trough, beneath which a pipe ran down through the floor. I guessed that some sort of oil was being burned – an oil possibly from the crater, containing AM matter, or else it would have been powerless to pierce the Black Sun’s darkness. Before this fire stood the Squexie Oxin.
‘We greet you!’ Chebarbar said, or words to that effect.
She was greeting what I first mistook for a giant Christmas tree. The castle seemed to have only one room, and this tree seemed to be the only thing in the room. Regarding it more closely, I saw that its shaggy texture resembled a cactus covered with spikes. Even as I looked, it fell apart.
It disintegrated into hundreds of identical logs, each the size of a rolled hearth rug, each covered with the spikes. Most of these logs contented themselves with milling about our feet; one stood on end and sprouted a sort of flower that assumed lips and ears. It conversed with Chebarbar.
While they talked, one of the logs inspected me, rubbing my leg with its spikes. These were fleshy and not particularly sharp. The feeling nauseated me so much that I gave the log a kick. Every log twitched in sympathy; the ones nearest me blossomed forth with mouths and squealed in protest.
So I learned that the Squexie was a sort of Gestalt entity, all its parts serving a greater whole. This did not surprise me. Nothing surprised
me. I began again feverishly thinking of the comfort of a bunk on a TransBurst ship.
At last Chebarbar finished talking.
‘Well, does this thing help us?’ I demanded.
‘For the sake of the Ungulph of Quilch, the Squexie will take us to Ongustura. It seems to have very little regard for you; you would be advised not to molest it again.’
The Squexie informed us it was ready to go, and shortly we were being bundled out of the castle. We crossed the frozen bridge, the logs bounding along all around us.
To my surprise and delight, we found the tiger-rhino still waiting in the crater rim. Chebarbar and I climbed onto it with cries of affection; it was like meeting an old friend again! Also, it solved a severe problem. In this unnatural blackness, the Squexie – obviously composed in part of AM material – could see as easily as we see in a normal day. It needed no light. But we did, and we had none. The way to Ongustura would have been hell had it not been for the tiger-rhino, which seemed to pick its way through the impenetrable black by divine instinct.
Almost at once, another quarrel developed – or rather the Squexie developed it. His high-pitched voice sounded from lips ranged all around us.
‘What’s it raving about now? Let’s get moving!’ I snapped.
‘The Squexie says it only offered to take two of us to Ongustura – not three. Accordingly, it will not take us at all.’
‘My godly galaxy! Tell him we are not three, nor two, but one. Together we make a creature called a Syllabub, a Gestalt beast with magical properties.’
This rubbish was translated to the Squexie, who mercifully swallowed it. We moved on. It seemed a terrible pity to me that such a marvellous creature as the Squexie should in all its multitude of parts be unable to muster the intelligence of a monkey.
Nevertheless, on our cold and tedious journey, I did manage to extract some information from it. In particular I was interested to learn more about the behaviour of antimatter. Hitherto I had thought that a violent explosion resulted when it came into contact with ordinary matter. Although the Squexie knew little and cared less about the origins of Smith’s Burst, it too accepted that this was what had happened originally. But it said there was a third force present on Glumpalt called ‘noggox’.
‘Tell it that all matter must have either a positive or negative charge,’ I instructed Chebarbar.
She translated its reply.
‘The Squexie says that between plus numbers and minus numbers lies a point of neutrality called “nought” or “zero”. This point exists also in matter, though it is rare, and it is called “noggox”. It can act as a binding agent between anti-and ordinary matter.’
I fell silent. Chunks of the AM stuff were still in my pocket. I knew I had only to get them and my knowledge back to civilisation and I could become rich enough to buy Glumpalt many times over. But what would you do with a hell like Glumpalt?!
Such speculations, and two breaks for sleep, when Chebarbar and I huddled close, were almost our only distractions on that journey. An AM moon spun across the sky, giving some welcome light, and was too quickly gone. Apart from the stray moon we had one other source of light, though it was only occasional and weak. We journeyed past several plantations of the orange-bearing hollies. The neon they contained had evidently an antimatter element that made them shine with a faint, ghostly glow.
As we rode on, I became rather tired, and called a brief halt. Just a short distance away from our resting place ran a tiny stream. On its nearer bank stood one tall and ancient tree. Hoping it was not a tree-being, such as I had encountered earlier, I ran to the stream for a drink of water. Sure enough, the tree lifted a taproot from the water and squirted me. The liquid was freezing; it stopped me dead in my stride. I panicked for the moment and thought that my only escape was to climb swiftly into its branches.
I was frozen from the wetting I had got. A cool breeze stirred, making me shiver uncontrollably. Hoping to warm my hands at least, I unhitched the primitive lantern from my shoulder and lit it. Its glow was so gratifying that only after some while did I observe the light to be not only warming but illuminating me!
VII
Amazed, I stared up. Many stars, the luridly complex constellations of Smith’s Burst, shone down on me. Ghostly forms of the distant Glumpaltian landscape were again visible. The Black Sun had set! The relief of being rid of that stygian gloom was great – and rudely shattered. Angry shouts below made me look down. I was discovered. Too late, I doused my wick; I had already given myself away.
My tree was besieged. Nor was that all. Squexie and the Ungulph’s soldiers stood peaceably side by side, all their belligerence directed at me. A great fire was being kindled near the plantation. By it I saw the demon king figure of the Ungulph of Quilch himself; the caps of his four tusks sparkled.
Cupping my hands, I shouted down to Chebarbar and asked her what had happened.
‘Alas, we are lost!’ she cried. ‘My father the Ungulph has just arrived on the scene. He has shown the Squexie his talisman and told that treacherous creature who I am. He says I must be killed for what he calls my desertion. The Squexie has turned against us.’
Though my thoughts raced, I could think of nothing to say – I, who had always hoped my last words would be memorable.
‘Do something!’ she called. ‘In a minute they will have you down from there, and kill us both.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘Tell your father that I will come down and spin my sword in the air. If it lands with its point in the earth, he shall kill me personally; if it lands flat, his gallant soldiers shall have the honour of tearing me into little pieces.’
When this was translated, a roar of excitement rose from the watchers. They obviously regarded this fancy with delight. Almost with love, the Ungulph beckoned me to descend. My offer was accepted.
Trembling with cold and tension, I climbed down the tree and landed among the motley rabble. They moved aside for me with some show of respect. When I drew my sword, the mutter swelled in volume, and they pressed closer. I cleared myself a circle, taking care that Chebarbar, who was held firmly on her mount, should be near its circumference.
I waved my sword.
‘Here it goes!’ I cried. ‘Watch it!’
Though they did not understand, the exhortation was unnecessary. Every eye followed that glittering blade as it rose, turning over and over; every face was upturned to follow its course. Since I had taken the precaution, before descending the tree, of tying a small chunk of AM material to the weapon, I reckoned the sword would continue to climb for ten seconds and take twice as long to come down. I could use those ten seconds.
As the eyes turned upward, glued to that fateful weapon, I ran for it.
The wretch holding the tiger-rhino’s bridle scarcely noticed as I snatched it from him. Leaping into the saddle, I applied the paddle hard. Our brave beast shot forward so rapidly that Chebarbar and I were almost thrown off. A moment later we had broken through the crowd and were away.
In another moment the whole mob was screaming after us.
VIII
Chebarbar and I could only hang on tightly and hope that our steed would increase the lead he had over the rest of the field. We had no idea of direction. We could but hope.
We were lucky. The flat terrain soon turned into an incline up which the six-footed tiger-rhino moved easily. Small rocky hills loomed around us; the way grew so narrow that our pursuers were forced to proceed in single file, to their great confusion.
We trotted through a pass and began to descend. From then on our followers gave up the chase. They camped there, on the heights; during part of our descent we saw their fires burning above us. The Ungulph’s men and the Squexie together made a formidable body of creatures; gradually more and more points of fire, diminished by distance, sprang up, until a half-circle glittered like a tiara over our heads.
Although we were safe from pursuit, trouble, my constant companion on Glumpalt, had not forsaken us. Dawn was on
its way, and ahead of us through the paling light I discerned a considerable town filling the valley. Chebarbar and I – and the tiger-rhino, for that matter – needed nourishment and rest. Since we had no magical powder with which to perform the usual absolution ceremony, we had to get into the town unobserved.
The town – like every other town on Glumpalt – was a rubbish dump. The only difference here was that the rubbish-houses were separated into islands of rubbish by the typically wide dust tracks. In the tired light of dawn, we had no trouble entering and finding safety.
Chebarbar sold her talisman to a foul old woman at an old stall. With the proceeds we hired ourselves an insanitary cupboard of a room and bought ourselves food.
Eating ravenously – nothing could turn my stomach now – we stared out of our tiny windows. Hills ringed the town; on their heights we could just make out fires and the figures of men. The Ungulph and the Squexie were still there; it looked as if they had the place surrounded and were intending to attack it as they had attacked the warren-village.
Above the hills rose the yellow sun, striking brightly onto the muddle about us. Any hope I might have drawn from it was dashed by my knowledge that this was the day the Trans Burst Traders’ ship would be leaving for Acrostic and other civilised ports. How long before the next one would call, or how far away Ongastura was, I knew not.
‘Don’t be so gloomy!’ Chebarbar cried, taking my hand. ‘Here we are both safe and together.’
Absently, I stroked her hair. I had never told her I came from a distant planet and intended to return there unaccompanied as soon as possible.
‘We are the same shape and colour,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you kiss me?’ We clung passionately.
The floor moved, the whole building shook. For a moment, I thought these were illusions produced by emotional strain. Then we ran to the window, in time to see a nearby collection of houses collapse into a column of dust. Over the distant heights a puff of smoke hung.
The Complete Short Stories- The 1950s - Volume One Page 90