Kirlian Quest
Page 9
They proceeded along a ridge. It was cool up here, and a brisk breeze tugged at him, making him shiver for more than one reason. He had never spent much time in the heights; his species of Slash rolled along on disks, and a long slope could be deadly. Here the path dropped away steeply on either side, and the barrel-trees crowded in close. There was really no danger of a long fall here, as any creature rolling down would soon fetch up against a tree trunk, but still it seemed precarious.
Psyche drew abreast of him. There was just room for two horses on the path, no more. "This is the Ridge Road," she explained as her bright hair-tail whipped first one way and then another in the wind, as if struggling to be free. "Our cattle use it to get to the high pasture."
"Oh," Herald said in human idiom, for what that was worth. He noticed how the wind flattened her jacket against her front, making her twin young breasts stand out attractively. In his natural body, Herald would never have been concerned about such a detail. But in Transfer the standards of the host became, in large part, the standards of the Transferee, and this intensified with the passage of time. As a Slash he would have looked for precise lasers and clean disks in a female; as a human—well, Psyche was something special, despite her youth. Or perhaps because of it. The blooming of Solarian females seemed transitory, so that by middle age they had lost much of their sexual appeal. Certainly the older females of the Kastle Kade staff illustrated this condition; there was little about them to tempt any man in this respect. But a girl like Psyche....
In due course the path broadened into the high pasture, a generally cleared slope with a broad spread of tall Solarian grasses and multicolored flowers. Beyond it was a small castle: residence of the Baron Magnet.
The party drew up to this edifice, and were met outside it by a modest hunting group. One horse detached itself and rolled up. In its saddle rested a creature perfectly designed for it: a metallic sphere whose Shield of Arms was painted right on its surface. An entity from Sphere Magnet, of course, whose sapients had achieved prominence in the Second War of Energy. It moved and acted by using magnetic attractive and repulsive forces. Since Keep was not a high-metal planet, the Baron would be virtually helpless if thrown from the saddle. But of course his type was extremely tough, being metallic, and he had his retainers to assist him.
"Greeting, my Liege," the Baron said via a speaker set in his saddle. His magnetic waves of communication were not audible to human perceptions, of course.
"Greeting, Baron," the Duke replied. "Be introduced here to my party: the Lady Kade, my daughter"—Psyche nodded politely—"Herald the Healer of Andromeda"—Herald emulated the nod—"the Earl of Dollar."
The Baron lifted momentarily in his saddle. A metal ball detached itself from its pocket in the saddle and swung in orbit around the magnet ominously. "Dollar aligns with you, now?"
Whirl rotated his wheel. "Have no concern, Magnet. Sheathe your mace. I am the Enemy Witness, present by the covenant to observe the Lady."
Magnet settled down again. His ball dropped back into its pocket. "Oh, naturally." He seemed relieved to know that Dollar remained an enemy knight.
"If you will direct us to the most recent sighting, we shall rout out the monster," the Duke said.
"Please follow, Liege," the Baron said, riding off.
They soon left the pavement and crossed open countryside. The tall grasses brushed against the horses' wheels. Herald found the swishing sound pleasant to his human ears, though fine pollen was flying up in brief clouds to tickle his nose and discolor his uniform. Now they were going uphill, and the horses were laboring. When one of the sets of wheels grew tired, they simply rotated a quarter turn and used the other set, the top saddle-wheel turning just enough to keep the riders facing forward. The horses were remarkably sure-wheeled, never bumping or skidding, though this cross-country climb was necessarily slower than the highway roll had been.
Abruptly they stopped. "Here the beast attacked my cattle, devouring one cow," the Baron said. "There are the wheels and axles of the loss, and there is the spoor of the attacker."
They made a large circle around the indicated spot. The tall grass was flattened to the ground, and there was a pile of animal wheels with dark stains upon them, as of dried blood. Sadorian entrails showed gruesomely between some of the spokes. There was no question about the violence of the death. Large, deep wheel tracks led away, up the hillside into the forest. Evidence enough!
"Flankers out," Kade ordered, and the human and Sador riders spread out to either side. "Lances ready." And the long spikes that had been pointing into the air dropped to parallel the ground. "Swords ready." And the Solarians loosened the blades in their sheaths, while the Sadors spun their forward wheels momentarily to show that their sharp spokes could function.
"Let's finish this by nightfall," Kade said. "Proceed."
The party began to move, following the trail. Birds flew up, disturbed by this intrusion. They were of pretty colors, some with each wheel of separate hue, and they dodged back and forth very quickly. With wheels spinning on six sides, they had precise control. Copterbugs approached, but were blown away by jets of forced air from the horses' resting wheels. These animals were versatile!
Once the initial thrill of the chase abated, the hunt became dull for Herald. With some thirty armed servitors flanking them, there seemed to be little actual danger, and as entertainment it quickly palled. There was nothing very sportsmanlike about this hunt despite the trimmings; that errant beast was about to be butchered.
Herald allowed his steed to lag, and Psyche and Whirl did likewise, while the Duke and Baron and troops pushed eagerly ahead. They obviously enjoyed the chase! After a time they were out of sight. It didn't matter; there was no way to get lost amid the massed-wheel-tracks of the hunting party, and of course they would return this way.
"Does this really thrill you?" Herald asked Psyche.
"It is a big bore," she admitted. "But it is the duty of the nobles to cull the dangerous animals. We receive dispensations from contributing worlds to guarantee discipline here. And of course we have to round up the ones whose terms have expired if they don't come in for re-Transfer on their own. But I'm no huntress; I'd rather be back talking with Hweeh. I wonder what it can be about that Amoeba?"
"I hope to find out soon," Herald said. "Perhaps if we return to the castle in time—"
There was a horrendous roar from immediately behind them. The horses bolted in alarm—and all three riders were bucked out of their saddles, caught completely off-guard. Herald did a kind of turnabout in the air and landed hard on his posterior. Fortunately the ground was spongy, and his rear did not hurt much. Psyche landed neatly on her feet beside him, just as if this were her customary mode of dismounting; Whirl rolled over twice before getting righted.
The three horses were gone, wheeling at panicky speed up the slope. No help there.
The ground exploded. A cloud of dirt flew up, and from it emerged—a monster. The thing was huge and solid, with spiked treads and projecting teeth on its side wheels. It could obviously do a lot of damage in a short period.
Herald had no sword or shield; these remained attached to the saddle of his vanished horse. Psyche had both, but of course she was a helpless girl. Whirl....
"Retreat to yonder tree," Whirl cried, cutting between them and the monster. "I shall delay it."
"Don't try," Psyche cried back at him. "No one but a mounted warrior with lance can balk that thing!" She ran toward the tree, and Herald started to follow.
But the Earl held his position, his battle wheel whirling rapidly. Herald remembered how this creature had stood his ground against the wrathful Duke, and knew he was not going to retreat. But against the massively armored wheels of the monster this was suicidal.
Herald reversed and ran to join Whirl, though he had no weapon. "Fool! Make for the tree!" Whirl cried. "I cannot hold it long!"
"That's why I'm here!" Herald shouted back. "You go; I'll handle it somehow."
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p; But now Psyche joined them. "You two are exactly like my father!" she screamed. "You won't retreat before a foe, though it kill you! Must I protect your lives with mine, as I protected your honor with mine before?"
"She's making sense," Herald said. "None of us can fight it—not singly, not together. But if we all run separately—"
"It will pick its choice and destroy that one," Whirl said. "I know not why it hesitates now."
Amazingly, the monster itself replied, in Clustric. "Which has the aura?" it demanded, its wheel-voice slurred almost into unintelligibility. "That one is mine!"
Then Herald understood. "It was a high-aura sapient. Now that it has faded almost to animal status, it thinks it can recover aura by consuming me! My aura roused it from its hiding place."
"It could have escaped the hunt if it had stayed in its hiding place," Psyche said. "The hunting party passed right over it, and we did too, never knowing! It is a most cunning beast."
"That is why it must be destroyed!" Whirl said.
"If it is after my aura, it won't leave this area until I do," Herald said. "And I'm heading for that tree. Both of you run in other directions; it won't follow you."
"Precisely," the monster said, nudging toward Herald.
Psyche stepped forward, her light sword in her right hand, her decorative shield bravely raised on her left arm. "It shall not have you, Healer!" she cried, stabbing at it.
The monster crunched forward, its deadly wheel revving up. A spoke caught Psyche's blade and ripped it out of her hand. The bent sword flew in an arc as she shook her bruised hand with a little exclamation of pain.
Herald lunged forward, circled both arms about her slender waist, and half hurled her around and behind him. "Get out of here!" he bawled.
The monster charged, when Herald was off-balanced from his effort. And suddenly he realized another point of affinity: the monster was like a Slash, his own kind! A Slash was a tubular creature with disks around its girth that it used for slicing out pathways, cutting up food, and dismembering enemies. It also had laser lenses for longer-range action. In his natural body, Herald could have met this creature on even terms, perhaps more than even terms. A Slash was smaller, but the lasers could score with devastating effect before the disks struck. But this Solarian host was a poor excuse for a combat creature.
These things forged through his human brain at about the same velocity his human legs got oriented and propelled him the hell away from the monster. A gap opened between him and the pursuer. But it was strictly temporary; the monster had more power, and its wheels gave it more forward impetus. All too quickly it closed the gap again.
Whirl shot across, his little side wheels throwing up divots, moving to intercept the monster. "Get out of here!" Herald shouted, in the same tone he had used on Psyche. "Guard the Lady! I can take care of myself!" He needed no further proof of the little Earl's courage. Enemy he might be, but he took the covenant seriously, and was quite ready to give his life to protect those he guarded. It was another example of the kind of honor heraldry was supposedly based on, but that Herald had seldom encountered directly. He liked it very well, but not when it foolishly wasted lives.
"Yes, it is the Lady I must watch," Whirl agreed. "Forgive me, alien exorcist, that I must relinquish you to your fate." There was no intended irony in this.
But now Herald had to concentrate exclusively on the monster. He knew how to fight it, using his Slash reflexes, but that did not make the task simple. The Sador beast was as tall as he, and several times as massive; its bladed front wheel was as wide across as the full length of its body. But the liability of size was that it slowed maneuvering, and wheels were more readily balked than legs. He could not outspeed the monster in a linear race, but he could foul it up in close acrobatics—maybe.
He felt the reverse breath of its savage front wheel, sucking the draft past him. An excellent way to catch prey, he realized: The wheel helped pull the pursuer forward while it sucked the fleeing animal back. Even if it didn't actually lift the prey off its feet, it helped slow and tire it. Small, subtle advantages could make the difference between failure and success.
How close could he afford to play it? Herald lost his nerve as be felt the hair of his head lifted by that breeze. He thrust out his right leg as though doing a squat jump, letting his body be hurled to the left. He twisted as he fell, and the monster rolled over the spot where he had been. Its massive side wheel crunched its track into the soil just beyond his feet.
The angled blade-spokes had light-receptors that were immediately aware of his new location. The monster did not turn; like the horses, it dropped its front and rear wheels and raised its side wheels. Now it was oriented on Herald again; the shift had taken only a moment.
But for that moment it was stationary; it could not shift wheels while traveling. It had had to brake to a stop, and now it had to get its mass going again. Herald's body could take off from a standing start faster than it could.
Herald was rolling as he thought. Unlike his Slash body, the Solarian form had to assume a vertical position before it could accelerate. He got his feet under him and launched himself toward the tree at right angles to the new orientation of the monster's driving wheels.
"Clever!" the monster roared as it shifted wheels again. Its Transfer aura might have faded, but much intelligence remained. It would not fall for the same trick again! Herald hoped he could reach the tree in time.
He saw that Psyche was already there, drawing herself up into its spreading upper wheels. Whirl was getting there.
But Herald's ill-conditioned host-body was tiring rapidly, as it had during the exercise sessions. If only the host had seen fit to indulge in a physical development program himself! A strong human body should have maintained velocity easily, but this one was panting painfully. A few more days of exercise might have corrected that. Meanwhile the monster was gaining again.
Herald knew he had to use his brain, but it was hard to do that during the distraction of this rising agony of effort. One more diversion of the monster might be enough. But what would work?
He was running through a chewed-up section of the field, where a slight ridge of earth had caused the wheels of the hunting party to grind apart the turf. His feet slid, causing him to drop momentarily to his knees. Precious time lost!
But maybe this would serve as even more of an obstruction to the monster! Herald climbed to the firm bank beyond, and turned to face his pursuer.
Now the monster showed its cunning. It steered carefully around the dirt-patch, coming at Herald from the side. Herald started for the tree again—but his fatigued body stumbled, and he sprawled full-length on the ground.
No chance now to go for the tree! The monster had cut him off, and had good traction and position—and it was not on the verge of physical collapse from overexertion. Herald went the only way he could: be rolled down into the pool of dirt again.
The monster, certain the prey would make his bolt for the tree, had to halt and reorient again. But now it had its quarry trapped, and knew it. It paused to gloat. "Squirm, victim!" it buzzed. "Soon I eat your aura!"
That was the one thing Herald did not have to fear. With the strength of his aura, and the training and skill he had in its application, he could destroy the lesser aura of the monster. But he would be materially dead at the wheels of the thing before he could do this. It was physical destruction he somehow had to stave off.
"Run, game, struggle!" the monster said. "I will catch you and eat you and hide myself again, and I will have high aura and no one will find me until I conquer."
"There are two witnesses," Herald pointed out. "There in the tree. They will betray your hiding place, and the hunters will destroy you."
The monster spun its forward wheel in rage. "I shall kill them too!"
"You can't reach them," Herald said. He was speaking more easily now, as his body rested and recovered. That was good; the longer he could keep the monster talking, the better off he was.
Herald edged in the opposite direction, keeping the bulk of the dirt between them. "Who are you, that you speak Clustric?"
"I am King Caesar of System Capella, Sphere Sol," the monster said proudly. "My throne was usurped by my protégé, Antony, and I was exiled here. But with your aura, I shall return from the dead. Then will the traitorous heads roll, and the gutters will clog with the blood of those supporting the usurpers. Right will be might again!"
Something jogged Herald's Slash memory. "You call yourself Caesar?" he inquired. "Even in Galaxy Andromeda there was news of the Butcher of Capella, who slaughtered indiscriminately and tortured sapients for the sheer pleasure of it, until at last even that hardened system vomited him out—"
The king-monster hurled himself forward with astonishing suddenness. Gouts of dirt sailed back, and the spiked wheels spun momentarily in air as he hurdled the brown pool.
Caught by surprise—when was he ever going to learn!—Herald's host-body reacted automatically. He dived to the side, his head going down, his feet up. He took a forward roll in the soft dirt, coming to rest on his back, while Caesar landed just past his head.
More thoughts tumbled through his brain as his body inverted. There had been a historical Caesar, too, a Solarian ruler two thousand years in Planet Earth's pre-Spherical past. A merciless but able entity, heading the powerful neolithic or age-of-iron kingdom of Rome, said to mate with either male or female individuals of his species—what an example to follow!
Herald sat up, grabbed two handfuls of dirt, and flung it at the monster, hoping to gum up the axles. It was a futile gesture. Caesar's host was a creature of the wild, well adapted to the wilderness hazards, able to bury itself in dirt, as they had discovered. Only the unnatural denudation of turf in this vicinity impeded its progress even slightly.
Herald did not wait. He scrambled to his feet and charged for the tree with renewed vigor. Caesar's wheels threw up a tremendous cloud of dirt as they churned out of that hole, but the monster no longer seemed to care. By the time he achieved firm ground, Herald was halfway to the tree.