Beyond the golden stair

by Bok, Hannes, 1914-1964

  that everything you ve shown us has been gospel truth?''

  The oldster flushed, conquered his feeling, and gravely dipped his head.

  "Then correct me if I'm wrong. We ve got to stay here for a while, but we cant stay forever. We simply wait around until the nature of this place works on us, and we turn into what our minds really are—right?"

  Patur nodded again.

  Burks said: "It's done, of course, to scare the people below from swarming up here, imless they're the proper sort and can't change into anything else, so that you won't have a mob of dimwits invading the place and causing trouble."

  He cocked an anxious eye. "But suppose someone really wants to stay here?" Before Patur could reply, he rushed on: "I Hke this placel Sure, life's a lot more complicated up here, but I like the way you run things. A man's got a chancel And I haven't consciously done anything—^nor ever will—against you."

  He glanced at the others, reddened, but pressed on fervently: "I know you don't have prisons here, but I'd rather rot in whatever corresponds to them— those Jungles of Madness, for instance—^than be a free man and own the whole stinking works down below! And if I turn into anything other than what I am now, I won't care, because as long as I'm here there'll always be the chance of working my way back until I'm a man again—and nothing can stop mel All I ask is a fair break. Send back the others if you must. Do anything to them that you like! But let me stay!"

  And boyishly, as if reverting to childhood training

  in manners, eager to make the best impression: "Please, Patur—Mister Paturl"

  For all the sympathy in the oldster's smile, it held no promise. He said: "My son, our Law is older than your entire racel It was wisely made and cannot be altered. None may remain here beyond the prescribed time-limit unless they have come in knowledge and bearing the Sign.'*

  Burks' voice dropped to a grating whisper. *Then I have to go back?"

  **Even so. What could you contribute to Khoire? And you are far too unevolved to receive from oiu-Historians the memory-knowledge which guides our lives. I doubt that you are as operatively intelligent as was the blue flamingo which you slew—"

  "I might have knownl" Burks spat. 'Tfou're holding that against mel"

  "Why, nol" Patur looked surprised, then sighed a gust of flame. "I was but making comparison. The blue flamingo"—he mused—"it was no ordinary bird of your regions. It had guarded the Gateway for over a thousand years. I wonder what now will take its place."

  Then he said cheerfully: ''Look you, my son—^your banishment from Khoire need not be permanent. There are wise men, teachers, in your world who know of Khoire and with whom our Watchers communicate. Find them and explain your need. No"— in reply to Burks' quick gesture— "I cannot tell you where you may find them. The effort must be your own. If you have not the wit to find them by yourself, then you do not belong in Khoire. They can impart to you those things you must know and be, and arm you with the Sacred Token. Then you may come afresh—and stay.""

  *TBut once I go back down there, I'm a dead duck! ril be hounded by the law, and my life will have to take up just where it left off. Fat chance I'd have of finding those teachers, let alone studying!"

  He pondered. "How long before this change comes over us?"

  "Generally it is within twenty-four of your hoiu's.'*

  ''And we've been here not more than two." His eyes narrowed. His angel's face became that of a fallen one. Scarlatti grunted and Carlotta stirrred restlessly. "Now suppose that I say I won't go back— what then?"

  "Nothing from us. No violence. But in your changed form you might find those parts of Khoire which I have shown you on the web—uncomfortable. Willing or no, you would gravitate toward those environs most suited for you, the abode of the unarmed and ignorant, the less-than-men."

  Patur shuddered at the thought of it, and his servants hastily touched their fingertips together in what Hibbert imagined was a superstitious spell for warding off evil. Furiously the oldster tugged on his rosary.

  "You deem Khoire a heaven!" he said. "So, in part, it is. But is there not a snake in your legend of a paradise? Rather than dwell one moment in the regions of the less-than-men, I would live out an eternity in the torture-chambers of your Inquisition!'*

  Again his servitors touched their fingertips together.

  Burks said, shamefaced: "Well, I wouldn't put up a fight, anyway. You've been square with me—I'll be the same with you. But there must be some kind of court of appeal up here that I could go to. There never was a law without a loophole!"

  Patur said astringently: "Yes, you may appeal. And

  it is true that a law may be circumvented. But I warn you, under the jmisdiction of Khoire you are liable to suffer disfavor for your presumptionl"

  Hibbert remembered the fairy tales in which mortals were granted their dearest wishes—but in a form which more than voided them.

  Burks laughed recklessly. "Disfavor? Hell, IVe had nothing butl All through my lifel Til take whatever's coming and love it, I don't care what it is—even if I'd have to take the place of the blue flamingol*

  Patur started, dropping his necklace. *What! You would dare even so much!" And tensely, momentously: Think, man, think—before committing yourself I" Then he shook his head. "No, no—you are only an untutored outsider and cannot understand/'

  Burks' head was high. Hibbert was abashed by, and envious of, his sovereign resolve. T know what I'm saying, and IT] say it again. Yes, I'd take the flamingo's place. Why, hell—it would be a snapl**

  Gently, Patiu: reminded: **But were you the flamingo's substitute, you would not be in Khoire."

  "So what? At least I'd be on its doorstep, and starting out again from scratch, and with something to look forward to. What else could anyone want?"

  Patur drew in his breath sharply. All his aloofness had lifted away like a raised curtain, and all his ancient sagacity and sorrow were mitigated and humanized by his warm approval. Again Hibbert was aware of Burks' towering manhood and felt a wave of admiration for him, and on that wave, a ripple of jealousy.

  The oldster said: "1 think that what you ask can be arranged. Your making such transformation and leaving Khoire would be in accord with the rule. Never before has it been done in this manner, yet

  it is not without the limits of the Lawl Understand, I personally have no say. The final word must come from our leaders—the Greater-than-men. To them you must go for their verdict."

  Burks covered his eyes with a shaking hand and gritted a weak but relieved little laugh, the happiness of a man being loosed from the rack.

  The manservant caught the hanging web, pulled it eflFortlessly from its place in the air, and rolled it into a ball no larger than a crumpled handkerchief. He dropped it into the cube over which he presided. The maidservant took the mask to her box and packed it. Then she and the man tried to resume their poses of formal detachment, but their look strayed to Binrks, fascinated and friendly but shy.

  Burks lowered his hands, his face glowing. 'When— "" He gulped and started again. "When can I see these Greater-than-men?**

  immediately, if you desire. But it were better that you weighed to the full what you have so rashly asked. Go then with your friends to the quarters assigned you, wherein all of you will await the coming transformation—the Change. View yoiu: request from every anglel You have asked for martyrdom! I know and respect yoiur courage and strength of will, but I know also that you are a creature from Below. You ask the fate of a godl**

  And Hibbert thought of Prometheus and Lold, chained to their rocks. Of Cuaxatl who traded his heart to the parrot-god for a soul.

  Now Scarlotti asked genially: "Whereas these here— quarters—you want us to stay in?** The giant*s abrupt complaisance might have deceived Patiu: and Burks, who was momentarily transported, but certainly not Hibbert, who wondered if he were to be dragged

  along again in whatever hare brained course Scarlatti undoubtedly was charting. Either way, the prospects were unplea
sant. If Scarlatti tried to force him to join in any plan, it would come to a fight. And Hibbert did not think that Scarlatti would let him hve, perhaps to disrupt the plan, even though he were not included in it. The thought of the gun under his shirt was a little reassuring.

  Patur nodded his head, singling out Burks. "Since your friend intends to leave you now in search of higher justice, it were well that you bid him farewell, for you may not meet again.** And somberly: "Or meeting, not know him—nor he yourselves.**

  He glanced at the maidservant. She curtseyed, turned, and flowed from the room. Hibbert arose and took Burks* hand. "What can I say—except that I wish I were more Uke you!**

  Burks was startled, and eyed Hibbert as though seeing him iFor the first time. His gaze took in the bulge under Hibbert*s shirt and his mouth turned up crookedly.

  "So long, kid. Save your breath on the compliments. Frankly, I hope that we don't meet again, and if you really meant what you said, I hope you feel the same. Because it'll mean that Tve got my wish and can stay here—or at least hang around at the threshold. As for you, whatever happens, it can't be too bad—you'll always make out. When you get back down below, why don't you himt up some of those teachers Patur mentioned? Then you can come back.**

  Was this the calloused killer? "Burks, you*ve changedl You're not the same manl"

  Scarlatti and Carlotta gaped, then hastily inspected themselves for any hint of like transformation.

  "No, I haven't changed. Tm the same as ever. I

  just look different against the new scenery, that's all/'

  He slapped Hibbert perfunctorily on the back, then gave his hand to Scarlatti. "Stay on the beam, Frank— do as you're told and you'll be all right. You've got to find out sooner or later that some things are bigger than you arel"

  He moved to Carlotta, offering her his hand. She hesitated, her expression half of scorn and half regret. Then she took her hand from its haven under the giant's arm and touched Burks' reluctantly.

  **I know you don't like me, and never did," Burks said. "Frank was always the big cheese where you were concerned, and I was just the chump leading him around by the ring in his nose. Well, forget it now and wish me luck, or good riddance if that's any better. I'm out of your pictiure from now on, and you can afford to be generous just this once."

  He was so very certain of himself, despite Patur's manifest misgivingsl What if after all he were denied his wish—^would he still cling to his protestations of goodwill, or take arms against all Khoire no matter what the consequences? Hibbert had a swift vision of Burks white-hot with blazing frustration, and it was not a very appealing one.

  Patur's maidservant returned with two of the figures in blue. She resumed her place at the cube. One of the blue-robes waited behind Scarlatti. The other paused beside Burks.

  Patur went to Burks and stood an instant gazing deeply into his eyes. "If I read you accurately, you have at least the spirit which belongs in Khoire I I know not which is better—for you to replace the flamingo, or to return to your homeland and trust to the discovery of the teachers there."

  He patted Burks' shoulder. "Now go to those higher

  ones who will hear your case. And**—^his hand lingered—"my kindest thoughts go with you, whatever betidel**

  He drew away. Burks followed the blue-clad guide without a backward look. The door closed ponderously after him.

  Patur sighed. ^'Carlotta, Scarlatti, Hibbert—^follow this man to your rooms. Wait there. All your needs will be attended. Later, I will visit you."

  He returned Hibbert's bow, smiled at Carlotta, and bent his head in reply to the giant's hearty goodbye.

  The blue-robe led them from the chamber. Hibbert heard the distant roar of a great gong, peeped around, and saw Patur facing the black window, his arms raised as if greeting something which looked inside.

  Greeting, Hibbert wondered, whom—or whatl

  Chapter Nine

  Marethof the Watchers

  They were traversing that same hall of blackness by which they had approached Patur's chamber from the room of the Fu dogs and the ebon frame, but now they made many more of the grotesque weaving movements than before, though always they seemed to be walking straight ahead. Hibbert recalled the pictures on the cobweb screen and decided that in keeping with Khoire's pecuKar gravity they were now walking head-downward or at least up some vertical plane.

  He saw no landmark by which to chart their progress. As far as his eyes could tell, they were pacing a treadmill in a blackened room.

  Without warning, a door arose before them, glowing brassy yellow as had the others. It was a triangle reflected by the mirrored floor to diamond-shape. The blue robe sHd it open and courteously stood aside that they might precede him.

  He followed diem within and, much after the manner of a hotel bellman, hastened to make last-minute improvements—patting a perfectly rounded sofa-cushion into the same perfect rondure; straightening a chair unnecessarily to its table; lifting a vase fussily

  from its place and setting it back again exactly as he had found it.

  He finished these amenities and bowed—Hibbert half-expected him to hold out a hand for a tip. However, he straightened and went outside. The door glided shut.

  Immediately Scarlatti swept a forearm under Hib-bert's chin, sweeping him oflF the floor. His other hand ripped into Hibbert's shirt and snatched the gun. He let Hibbert go and drew back to await the youngster's attack, but Hibbert knew better.

  The giant chuckled. *Tfou didn't know I seen you snitch this, huh? Well, I don t miss no tricks! I wanted you to snitch it so that I could get it—Burks wouldn't of let me have it. Don't try to get it back, or"—he guffawed at the pun—^"I'U let you have it! Hawl You know what I mean."

  Any answer would have been superfluous, so Hibbert merely shrugged and tiuned away.

  Carlotta had begun to explore the suite. The powers of Khoire were indeed a considerate sort when it came to their visitors' contentment. They had slavishly duplicated the last word in the interior decoration of Hibbert's world, even to the fried-egg-shaped chairs which Hibbert had never much cared for.

  There was a deep-piled rug, matching walls of im-bleached duck on which apparently authentic Picas-sos hung. Overstuffed pieces made pleasant contrast with clean-lined blonde-birch ones. All the incidentals were familiar, down to the last ashtray of Swedish glass.

  The apartment contained several bedrooms, sitting-and hving-rooms, a kitchen, dining-room, and baths. Carlotta rapturously plumped herself down on the sofas and beds, testing their softness in turn. She

  squeaked with delight at a vanity table littered with flasks of perfume and other feminine appurtenances, and clapped bhssful hands on sight of a closetful of colorful wraparounds in assorted sizes and hues.

  Typically she did not wait for the men to leave, nor refresh herself with a bath. She ripped one after another of the robes from their hangers, holding them against herself for size. She found one of royal purple embroidered with golden stars, stripped oflF her malodorous tattered dress, kicked it into a comer, and hastened into the robe.

  She scurried to the mirror and began improving on Nature's somewhat questionable handiwork by dipping into cosmetic jars.

  Hibbert availed himself of the opportunity to take a bath. When he emerged considerably refreshed, he found Scarlatti in the kitchen looking unhappy because it contained no refrigerator and therefore no beer. There was a bowl of what was possibly fruit, but the giant shook his head over it. He went to the outer room and took cigarettes from a hinnidor, and probably with a thought for the future, crammed a handful into a pocket. He Ht one, settled back on a divan to enjoy it, but spat disgustedly, stared at its glowing tip accusingly, and flung it away.

  Hibbert came in and retrieved the smouldering butt from the rug. The big man dug into his pocket and scattered the cigarettes from it.

  "Worse n teal'' he grunted.

  The incongruities of the place interested and amused Hibbert. He switched on a lamp
, peered under its shade and saw that there was no light-bulb but a tranquil tall flame instead. Evidently electricity was impracticable in Khoire, or inferior to this replacement for it.

  He examined what purported to be a phonograph. Its turntable and starting mechanism were similar to machines of his world, but there was no diaphragm to throw out sound. The choice of records was interesting—everything from Buxtehude to none-too-recent dance music.

  Scarlatti gave no mind to Hibbert's experiments with the various discs, thereby disproving the saying concerning those charms which soothe the savage breast. No color accompanied the music, although whenever Hibbert or the others spoke their voices still shone as flame. However, he found that by pushing a button he could convert the music into a rhythmic play of colors.

  "How Scriabin would have loved this!** he said over his shoulder. "He was a composer who was experimenting with the expression of music as colored lights."

  "Must of been a dope," Scarlatti said. He brooded on Hibbert until finally the yoimgster was impelled to ask:

  "Something the matter with me?"

  "What? Oh—nah." Then, restively: 'We got about twenty hours before this here changing business starts, twenty hours."

  'What are you planning?^

  "Ha, wouldn't you Hke to knowl But if you can't figure it out for yourself, don't expect me to spill it— not me I It's everybody for theirself from now on.** That at least was reassuring—or was it?

  Scarlatti ruminated: "I sure crossed up the old white-headed geezer! He thought I'd be all burned up, having to show off my thoughts in front of you. And with a Satanic twist of his brows: "Nope, that wasn't my reason. I got my plans all fixed up and I knew