They ate at a table under a spreading pear tree. A stew of slightly rotting oily black toadstools, a real delicacy, had been provided for Hrsh-Hgn. Isaac ate Whole Erse potatoes for energy. There was a seafood soufflé for Dom, expertly cooked. He was beginning to realize too that Creapii were experts automatically. His Furness sucked something from a pressurized cylinder into an airlock approximately where his stomach should have been.
‘Where is your next port of call?’ he asked.
‘Minos, if you can take me there,’ said Dom. ‘I have to get another ship, and I know there is a multiracial settlement there. I could take a look at the Maze, too.’
‘Do you think there might be a clue in the Maze?’ asked the Creap politely.
Isaac chortled, and nudged Dom heavily in the ribs.
‘That was a clever literary allusion, that was,’ he said. ‘Even the name of the planet is—’
‘I know,’ said Dom. ‘I shall look forward to meeting the minotaur. Hrsh?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ said the phnobe, looking up. ‘I was jusst reflecting that I sseem to be insside a legend.’
He called the ship One Jump Behind. It was the best the small yard on Minos had to offer. It lacked even an autochef, which was a point in its favour, but its matrix was carefully calibrated and the cabin was at least larger than a closet.
‘Why One Jump Behind?’ asked Isaac.
‘Relativity,’ said Dom. ‘It’s full name ought to be A Jump So Far Ahead That If Einstein Had Been Right It Would End Right Behind You. Try getting that on the ident panel. Do you think you can handle it?’
‘It’ll do,’ said Isaac ruefully. ‘It’s hardly a thoroughbred.’
They walked through the human scientific colony towards the Maze, the nearest wall of which loomed over the low domes.
‘What did you think of the High-Degrees?’ said Hrsh-Hgn.
‘Remarkable,’ said Dom non-committally. ‘What about you?’
‘I met several while you were taken on that tour. I wass sstruck by their phnobisshness, ass you might expect, and your ssuggesstion that each race ssees itss reflection in the—’
A small silver egg rolled up to them at the Maze entrance, waving a sheaf of papers in a tentacle. The reddish tint of its eyeshield said it was a very low-degree Creap indeed.
‘Psst!’ hissed a non-directional voice. ‘Wanna buy a map? Can’t see the Maze without a map. Compiled by my brood-brother from genuine aerial photographs!’
‘Sod off, cinderbrain!’ screamed a large Creap, thundering towards the group. ‘Now, sir and frss, you are obviously discerning people and you want a map. Now I have a map, sir and frss, the like of which is seldom seen.’
‘Do I need a map?’ Dom asked.
‘Not precissely,’ said the phnobe, who had visited the Maze before. ‘But they do make good souvenirss!’
A dozen other map-sellers lurched and rolled after them as they strode into the Maze.
The Jokers had their little joke. Occasionally a researcher would point out that the Maze was probably never designed as a maze at all, but none could come up with a believable alternative use. Dom wasn’t surprised when his two companions faded away on either side of him – Hrsh-Hgn had warned him of the Maze effect.
Something in the monomolecular walls created a separate universe for every individual. That was why all maps and aerial photographs ceased to be useful. Dom’s own map of the maze could be perfectly accurate – for Dom.
Once he saw a shadowy outline of Hrsh-Hgn walk out of a wall and disappear into another. Dom thumped the wall good and hard and then, glancing around to make sure that no one was watching, played a stripper beam over the white surface. It didn’t even get hot. As an illusion it was pretty solid.
He found the centre after ten minutes’ brisk walking. He had the memory sword still turned to the stripper setting, and his finger hovered on the stud as Ways turned round and smiled.
‘I see you were expecting me,’ he said pleasantly.
Dom fired. Ways gave him a hurt look, and extended a hand. A growing, light-bending sphere bounced towards Dom and disappeared.
‘Round One,’ said Ways. ‘Now I’ve a resonance-dampening matrix, but what have you got?’
‘Who are you?’ said Dom. He thumbed the weapon on its knife setting.
‘Ways of Earth.’ He stopped and tossed the knife back to Dom. ‘I’m afraid you have blunted the blade,’ he continued, ‘but that was a pretty smart throw.’
‘My next question was have you come to kill me, but that’s not intelligent, is it?’
‘No,’ said Ways, ‘I don’t seem to be achieving anything, but I must keep trying otherwise what is free will for?’
‘Do I get any explanations?’
‘Sure. You must realize that the universe is too big to hold us and the Jokers. Some people are afraid that the Jokers might turn up any day now.’
‘Do they expect some kind of big-brained monsters?’
‘I think gods are what they are expecting. You know where you are with big-brained monsters, but gods are another matter. No one wants to be a slave race. Oh, I’ve got a couple of things for you.’
The robot slid aside his chest panel and threw Ig at Dom. The little animal screamed vengeance at Ways from the safety of its master’s shoulder, then dived inside Dom’s shirt.
‘And there was something else …’ said the robot. He patted his carry-all, and felt around behind his chestplate. ‘Sorry for the delay, you know how it is, thing wanted never there. Ah, here.’
Dom caught the small grey sphere before he could stop himself. It was warm. Ways watched him closely.
‘That is a matrix engine without a coil,’ he said. ‘By now it should have blown your head off. Crude, I know.’
Dom hurled the globe over the nearest wall. It sparkled briefly under the light of the Chains before landing with a thud in the next avenue. Then Ways cannoned into him.
The robot had weight behind him. Dom rolled backwards and tried to throw his attacker, and had to jerk aside as a fist struck the Maze floor by his ear. The blow split the artificial skin. Ways turned the punch into a sideswipe, and a fingertip scored a cut across the boy’s head.
Ig erupted straight for the eyes. Ways brushed him off lightly, and leapt back, flexing his fingers.
‘I refuse to believe in invulnerability,’ he said. ‘Let’s get down to the real thing.’
The matrix engine exploded. The Maze thumped.
Ways was picked up like a doll and hurled at the wall, one flailing leg catching Dom across the chest.
And a long way overhead a ship was coming in to land.
10
‘On Laoth they cultivate with a screwdriver.’
Galactic Miscellany
‘Hark to the crash of
the leaves in the autumn, the smash
of the crystal leaves.’
Charles Sub-Lunar, Planetary Haiku
The bed was a relic, an ornate black affair that bore all the markings of the Taminic-P’ing Dynasty. Dom stared through thinning blue mists at the rest of the room.
He was in a treasure house. Or it may have been a museum. Someone had ferried furniture and ornaments across the galaxy and dumped them there with no regard for style and period. Memory tapestries hung from two of the walls, where forgotten heroes re-enacted pages from history like an ever-repeating recording. A set of tstame men in ceremonial costume stood stiffly to attention on a board set in a giant cultured ruby. There was a water sculpture, inactive, which lay in a pool at the bottom of its tank, and an Early Chrome display case displaying several pieces of bootlegged Phnobic temple pottery. Where the walls were free of tapestries they were hung with purple drapes.
Dom pictured the severely practical home domes on Widdershins. The only ornamentation really encouraged was the Sadhim logo and perhaps the One Commandment, suitably framed. Even electricity was allowed to come no further than the kitchen. And the Sabalos family was rich – so rich, in fact, t
hat it could afford the simple life. Whoever owned this room was either poorer or would make them look like paupers.
He felt something warm by his ear, and turned to find Ig curled up in the sleeping field. The creature opened one eye and purred.
Dom swung himself clumsily out of the bed’s field and landed clumsily. The gravity was fractionally higher than Widdershins.
He drew aside a curtain and saw a sun, flattened by refraction, dipping below a rugged horizon. It was an anaemic red. And something small flew jerkily past the window, found an open section and flittered in. Dom saw the metallic sheen of its wings as it hovered around the light, and the haze of its tiny airscrew. It was a Laoth moth. The sun out there was Tau Ceti, and it was setting pale because the atmosphere was almost dust-free. He felt pleased with himself.
The bronze doors at the far end of the room swung open, and Isaac walked in.
‘Hi, boss,’ he said wearily. ‘How do you feel?’
‘My chest feels like someone’s been sticking pokers in it,’ said Dom, ruefully. ‘The last I remember I was on Minos.’
‘That’s right. We found you at the entrance to the Maze with your chest half caved in. That Ig was keening fit to bust.’
Dom sat down. ‘At the entrance to the Maze? How did I get there? Hey – did you look in the centre?’
The robot nodded. ‘Sure, but our centres, if you see what I mean. Another attempt, huh?’ Dom told him.
Isaac said: ‘Your grandmother arrived not long after. Hrsh-Hgn and I thought well, you were dying, and the Drunk is a fast ship.’
‘Yes, okay. But this isn’t Widdershins.’
‘She stopped off here so you could get treatment. Those googoo bodies aren’t infinitely self-repairing.’
‘Of course, this is your home, isn’t it?’
Isaac stiffened. ‘I am a citizen of the galaxy, boss. Yes, this is the old place. Workship Three, Factory Complex Nineteen, that’s where I sprang from.’ He looked round the room. ‘Mind you, we never got to see the inside of this place. Between ourselves, I don’t like it. Do you know I’m the only ‘bot in the place?’
‘Knock it off, there must be servants!’ said Dom, looking for some clothes.
‘Sure. Humans. I tell no lie, sahib.’
Dom gaped at him.
‘And one of them called me “sir”! In my cube, any human who calls a robot “sir” is due for a bunch of knuckles.’
‘Cool down and find me some clothes. I want to see this place before it vanishes,’ said Dom.
They walked out of the room and along a broad, deep-carpeted corridor. Isaac led the way through several large, over-furnished halls until they reached a pair of silvered doors. Two men in brown and gold livery opened the doors hurriedly and stood to attention as they passed through; Dom heard a mechanical growl in Isaac’s throat.
A circular table with a central well filled the room. Dom’s gaze first caught Joan; she dominated the room, as usual, in a long midnight-purple dress and a black wig that matched her skin. She smiled faintly. Next to her was a tall, fat man, built almost on drosk lines; Dom recognized him as the Emperor Ptarmigan. Next to him was Keja, even at this moment rising from her seat before racing round the table to embrace Dom. By her sat a boy about Dom’s age, regarding him thoughtfully. The rest of the table was made up of the usual run of Board directors and senior planetary management.
Keja embraced Dom and kissed him.
‘I knew you’d turn up here! Dom, you’re green...’ she gasped. ‘Have you been fishing?’
‘Sort of,’ he said.
‘Come and join us, we were just starting dinner. Tarli, could you move along? If you crush up a bit Isaac can find room, too,’ she added brightly.
‘Sure,’ said the boy, grinning at Dom.
‘Me, madam? Dine with humans?’ said Isaac coldly, gazing fixedly at the liveried men standing behind the diners.
‘Don’t be embarrassed – we’re all one big integrated circuit here,’ said Keja.
Dom leaned close to the robot and murmured: ‘Sit down and look pleasant or I will personally disassemble you with nails, teeth and toes.’
Dom ended up sitting between the Emperor, who greeted him politely before turning back to Joan, and Keja. Many of the diners were watching Dom with frank disbelief. There were several phnobes around the table, with Hrsh-Hgn hissing amicably to a very important-looking alpha-male.
‘Do you always dine like this?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Keja, ‘Ptarmigan prefers to have people where he can see them.’ She raised a finger and the waiters moved forward.
‘Uh, Keja, how long have I been here?’
‘Since yesterday night. You’re famous, little brother. According to Ptarmigan half the galaxy is out looking for you. You’re supposed to be leading us all to Jokers World. What do you think we’ll find there?’
‘On present showing, a damn great bomb.’ He saw her flinch. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that. Famous, eh?’
‘There’s a dozen ships in orbit, most of them Terra Novaean and Whole Erse. More turn up every hour. Ptarmigan is very angry about it. I haven’t quite understood it all, but I gather that everyone wants to kidnap you. Is it true that you’ll discover Jokers World in five days’ time, whatever happens?’
‘I expect so. How come everyone knows?’
‘Well, you haven’t been keeping it a secret, have you? United Spies are in on it too. Ptarmigan has to send special squads out every hour to sweep up those little robot insects they keep dropping on the palace. One got into the kitchen and opened the oven on a soufflé, and that’s outside all the rules!’
‘Is one of the ships Creapii?’
‘I don’t know.’
Tarli leaned round his young stepmother and nodded. ‘My apologies, O Dom, but I have been overhearing the conversation—’
‘Eavesdropping,’ said Keja sternly.
‘—and as a matter of fact one of the ships is a Crepii VMFTL squareship, Chain Stars registration.’
‘Chain Stars, eh? Oh, boy.’ A thought struck him and his hand flew to his belt. ‘Keja, was there a bottle—’
‘It’s safe. My maid said one of the security men told her that it contains the Water of Life. Not that I’m prying, of course.’
‘Of course not. In the last few days I’ve nearly been killed, overdrawn at the Bank, I’ve breathed for an hour underwater, I’ve got into orbit by a very bawdy method, and I’ve had a swim on the surface of a star. Oh yes. And I walked out of the Maze on Minos even though my chest was smashed up. Life is one gay round. Someone ought to start writing my biography now, before it’s too late!’
‘Try him, then,’ said Keja, indicating a diner on the far side of the table. Dom recognized the scarred man and his battered robot.
‘That’s Charles Sub-Lunar, isn’t it? The one they call the Renaissance Man?’
Keja saw the man and the robot looking at them, and raised her glass and smiled. Under cover of this she said: ‘Yes, and Joker expert. And historian. His poetry is rather good, too. Did you know he was the one who deciphered the Joker language?’
‘The poet and the mad computer,’ quoted Dom.
‘Yes, though he’s not really mad. I don’t know who the poet was. His servant is quite fascinating, too, don’t you think he looks fascinating with all those scars, Dom? Dom?’
‘Uh, yes,’ said Dom, slowly. He twirled his wineglass thoughtfully. ‘Funny, isn’t it, you form an impression of people … I think I’d like a word with him. Excuse me.’
Dom sidled round the table, but had not been careful enough. Joan caught him lightly by the arm – lightly it looked, at least, but there was a knowledge of anatomy behind the hold.
‘Good evening, Grandson. You have been mixing with some very bad company, it seems. Ways is the chief torpedo of the Joker Institute.’
Dom sighed. ‘All right, Grandmother. I suppose you have been prying into my mind?’
‘Well, you were unconscious and it
naturally seemed the logical thing to do.’
‘Oh, naturally.’
‘Don’t be peevish, this is real life. Every security man in the galaxy knows about Ways. Once he assassinated the deputy-chief of United Spies, you know. He’s a robot with a killer instinct. I see you’ve still got that swamp crawler?’
‘He’s spent a little time with Ways. I think it’s likely that he’s been booby-trapped,’ said Dom. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much.’
‘You think you’re invulnerable. Don’t bank on it,’ said Joan. She glared at Ig.
The Emperor rose slowly to his feet and rang a small black bell. The diners began to leave the table. Dom saw Sub-Lunar and his serving man disappear into the crowd.
‘What happens now?’ he asked. ‘I understand everyone’s waiting for me to make a move.’
‘Are you going to discover Jokers World?’
Most of the diners had left. The Emperor bowed to them and left them seated. Across the room Hrsh-Hgn and Isaac chatted to Tarli.
‘I think so,’ said Dom. ‘I’m getting the ...the sort of outline of it already. It’s not a planet. I mean, it may be a planet but … well, Widdershins is a planet, with an orbit, a hydrosphere and a magnetic field and so on, but Widdershins is also a world and a culture.’
‘I see,’ said Joan. ‘I wonder where it could be?’
‘I’ve got five days, less now, so that rules out most places outside the life-bubble. I think …’ Dom stopped. ‘You are pumping me.’
‘For the sake of Widdershins. I don’t want you to find Jokers World and lose it to a mob. You don’t care about politics. I tell you, used properly this could be the making of the Sabalos family.’
‘You mean that seriously?’
‘I do.’ She rose. ‘We’ll talk about this later. Are you coming to see the Masque?’
‘You must!’ said Tarli, hurrying round the table. ‘It’s a special production. Sub-Lunar wrote it on the ship coming here. Father likes a little entertainment after dinner.’
The Darkside Of The Sun Page 13