Incarnations of Immortality

by Anthony, Piers

  "Well," the Bemme robot spoke up, "my kind has fought the bone-fleshed kind ever since our two species went to space and discovered the delights of interstellar war. We even named your kind: MAN."

  "You did?" Norton asked, surprised.

  "Of course. MAN—an acronym." The mouth on the screen quirked with obscure humor.

  "Oh? What do the letters stand for?"

  "Multi-Appendaged-Numbskull, of course. Every creature who is worthy of the title of sapience knows that."

  "What?" Dursten exclaimed indignantly. "It can't be that!"

  The Bemme fidgeted, and the screen mouth frowned. "I did clean it up a little for mixed company." Two eyes formed on the screen, glancing at the Alicorn.

  "What's the danged original?" the spaceman demanded.

  "Mucky-Arsed—"

  "We'd better get moving," Norton said quickly.

  Dursten hesitated, then decided to let the acronym pass. After all, he had asked for it.

  They advanced on the drear castle. This one, like the other, was wide open for entry, as if daring strangers to try it. These Evil Sorceresses were entirely too confident! The other one had nearly finished Norton; only Sning's intercession had saved him.

  That reminded him. "Am I doing the right thing, Sning?"

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  He didn't like that answer. It meant he could go either way, and he wanted to go the correct way. "Is it right to seek the null-psi amulet?"

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  How he wished Sning could talk to him directly! "Well, warn me when I start to go wrong."

  Squeeze.

  They crossed the drawbridge and entered the dark aperture of the front gate. There was no sound; it was like a crypt. The air was cool and smelled faintly of earth.

  "Ho!" Dursten called. "Anything in there?"

  He was answered by a gust of wind that reeked like the flatulence of a corpse, and a low moan, as of breath sighing through deserted chambers.

  Excelsia shivered. She wasn't wearing much, but her torso was excellently padded; her chill was more of the spirit than of the flesh. "I wish we had a candle," she said.

  "You could conjure one," Norton suggested. "Aren't you entitled to one conjuration a day?"

  She brightened. "Candle!" she exclaimed, and one appeared in her hand. It was a big taper, already burning, and it spread a fine light.

  "Say, that there's a real good parlor trick," Dursten said. "Too bad you couldn'ta produced a laser fluoroscope, so we could spy the null-psi dingus through the walls."

  The Damsel shrugged, not understanding his language. But Norton realized that the candle probably had been foolish, for she could indeed have conjured something far more effective for either illumination or protection. Well, he should have thought of that before he spoke; now her conjuration was done, and that was that. They would have to make do with what they had. The light of the candle was comforting, anyway. There was something about a flickering flame; it seemed alive, in contrast to the cold brilliance of an electric lamp.

  They entered the dark hole. The Alicorn led, since he could see and smell in the dark, was largely immune to poisonous magic, and had his weapon always ready. Excelsia followed with her candle, illuminating the passage for the rest of them. Her gauzy gown tended to become translucent when the light was on the far side. Norton admired the effect, but wished it wasn't occurring right at this time; he needed to be alert to the hazards of the castle.

  Next came Norton, followed by Dursten, with the Bemme in her natural form bringing up the rear. She, too, could see pretty well in the dark because of her huge eyes. As Norton glanced back, he could see a thousand miniature candles reflected in the jewel like facets other orbs. He doubted the Bemme would overlook anything!

  The passage proceeded directly in toward the center of the castle. It was about eight feet square in cross section, lined on all sides by clammy, mortared stones. In fact, those walls sweated tiny driblets of water that gleamed in the candlelight. The whole thing was dank and oppressive. Norton began to feel claustrophobic, for no good reason.

  The Alicorn came to a blank wall cutting off the passage. The light of the Damsel's candle showed smaller tunnels exiting at right angles to the left and right.

  "Which way should we go?" Norton asked Sning.

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  This was getting annoying! "Don't you have opinions any more?"

  Squeeze.

  "You mean I'm not asking the right questions?"

  Squeeze.

  Norton sighed. Maybe on a better day he would have been able to come up with the right questions and cut through this nuisance instantly; right now he was too distracted by the exigencies of the moment. It had been a long time since he had had a chance to relax and recuperate.

  "Maybe we could split our party, and—" Dursten began.

  "No!" Norton and Excelsia said together. They remembered getting separated in the castle of the other Sorceress.

  Dursten shrugged. "Suit yourself. Pick a tube."

  Norton chose randomly. He pointed right. "That one."

  There was no warning squeeze from Sning, so they proceeded. This passage was narrower, only four feet across. It made another right-angle turn left and debouched into a chamber whose cross section was about twenty-five feet and whose ceiling arched high above. The candle hardly lighted it all. Its far end, fifty feet distant, seemed to have another tunnel exit.

  They spread out and started across.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "Hold it!" Norton said. "Sning just gave warning!"

  The Alicorn dipped his head to point with his horn. There was a line crossing the chamber about ten feet from the entrance.

  "Trap door?" Dursten asked, peering at the line.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "No," Norton said. "I think we're not supposed to cross that line."

  "Hell with that noise!" Dursten said impatiently. "Nobody corrals me like that nohow!" And he stepped across the line.

  From the far side of the chamber a dozen blobs of drainpipe garbage appeared. Each one floated a foot above the floor, trailing drools of hair and slime. They fired clogs of jelly like stuff across the chamber as they advanced.

  "Ooo, ugh!" Excelsia exclaimed, dodging a missile. Evidently she had been braced for routine things like knives or empty boots, but not for this.

  "I'll get them gunks!" Dursten said gallantly. He drew his blaster and popped away with excellent aim. All spacemen, of course, were crack shots. As he scored on each gunk, it exploded, spraying coffee grounds and potato peels at the ceiling. In a moment the chamber was clear—and messy.

  Dursten blew off his smoking muzzle and bolstered his blaster. "Told you I'd upgrade my shooter," he said. "I never liked gunks nohow."

  They continued on through the chamber, through the passage beyond, and into another blank wall with channels to the right and left. "Right again," Norton said. They turned right, and around another right-angle turn, and came into a chamber similar to the first, with another line across it. Dursten drew his blaster and stepped over the line.

  More gunks appeared. One gunk splatted just behind Norton as he dodged. He turned to look at its impact on the wall—and discovered that the stain was smoking. "That's acid!"

  "Sure, them gunks don't mean us no good," Dursten said philosophically, blasting away at them. His aim remained uncanny; in a moment all gunks were refuse.

  They passed on through into another passage, met another T-intersection, and turned right again. A left elbow brought them to a third chamber.

  "Are we getting anywhere?" Excelsia inquired, waving her candle impatiently.

  "Shore, we're blasting lots o' gunks," Dursten answered, stepping across the line and proceeding to blast away.

  "Is that all there is to human life—blasting gunks?" the Bemme asked, forming a mouth for the speech.

  "Ain't that enough?" Dursten asked.

  The Bemme shrugged gelatinously and fol
lowed. But the question nagged Norton. He didn't want to continue blasting gunks indefinitely; he wanted to locate the Eviler Sorceress and get the amulet from her. He would be happy to bypass the gunks entirely.

  They blasted through two more chambers. "Are these all different?" Norton asked.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "You mean we're repeating chambers?"

  Squeeze.

  "Let me check this." Norton walked back to the beginning of the last chamber they had cleared of flying gunks and turned about. He stepped back across the line.

  Twelve new gunks appeared. The other folk, caught by surprise, scurried to avoid them. Dursten got busy and blasted them all.

  "Crossing the line does it," Norton said. "Watch." And, when they were out of the way, he crossed the line a third time—and twelve more gunks appeared.

  Dursten mopped them up. The charge in his upgraded blaster seemed indefatigable.

  "Just what are we accomplishing?" Norton asked, frustrated. "We're repeating chambers and blasting things that are triggered into existence by a line!"

  Dursten considered. "Never thought o' that," he admitted. "This here thing's just a maze."

  A maze—of course! Their object was not to blast innumerable gunks, but to find their way through the maze to the Eviler Sorceress. "So we aren't getting anywhere," Norton concluded. "Is that why you had no answer before, Sning?"

  Squeeze.

  "Can you direct us through this maze?"

  Sning hesitated, then slowly squeezed once.

  Still those odd reactions! They had not yet fathomed the whole truth about this sinister place! "Very well. Should we turn left at the next T?"

  Squeeze.

  They moved through the maze, following Sning's directions. Each new chamber brought a dozen new gunks for the spaceman to blast. Then, abruptly, they came to a chamber that was different. It was small, only eight feet on a side, and had no exit. At Sning's behest, they crowded inside.

  The entrance door slid closed. Then the chamber descended. Excelsia screamed, thinking they were falling to their doom, and clutched Dursten desperately.

  "Say, now," the spaceman said, pleased. "I guess I reckon there are better things'n blasting gunks!"

  "It's only an elevator," Norton said. "Sning wouldn't send us into a trap."

  "Not doom?" Excelsia asked, wide-eyed.

  "Not even discomfort," Norton assured her.

  "That's okay, cutie," Dursten said. "How 'bout a li'l kiss while we're at it?"

  The Damsel realized where she was. "Oaf!" she shrieked, slapping him smartly and stepping indignantly away.

  The spaceman shook his head. "Femmes—who needs 'em?"

  The elevator's motion stopped. The door slid open. Beyond was a green passage.

  "A new maze," Norton said, stepping out. "Can you guide us through this one, too, Sning?"

  Again the response was a slow squeeze.

  "I wish I knew what's bothering you!" Norton exclaimed. "Is there danger we can't handle?"

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "Then let's move on through!"

  They threaded the second maze. This one was curvy rather than angular, and the walls were green plaster. The chambers were ovals with bloated purple glitches attacking on cue. These were resistive to Dursten's blaster, but popped like bubbles when pricked by Excelsia's knife point or the Alicorn's horn. "Just as well," Dursten said gruffly. "My blaster's charge ain't forever."

  Sning guided them through the labyrinth to a second elevator. They entered and descended to a third level—which turned out to be a yellow maze. The creatures in it were icks, like soft bowling balls with eyes where the holes should be. They rolled up, threatening to crush everything in their paths, but Dursten's blaster caused them to go all to pieces.

  Then the charge gave out. The last ick was only winged. It spun out of control and banged into a wall. "Oh, the poor thing!" Excelsia exclaimed. "It's hurt!" She dashed to it and put her arms about it.

  "Crazy dame! What about my blaster?" Dursten demanded.

  "Oh, shove your—" But she was too ladylike to be able to complete a thought like that.

  "Maybe I can stomp the ick," he said.

  "Leave it alone!" she flared, cuddling the bowling ball. "Can't you see it's suffering?"

  The spaceman shot a baffled glance at Norton. "Femmes! Can you figger 'em?"

  "Not me," Norton said, though in truth he had some sympathy with the ick. It was perhaps a variety of wilderness creature, forced to serve as cannon fodder for the Sorceress. He bore no special ill wilt for the soldiers of the front, who tended to be victims of circumstances no matter which side they fought on.

  But this delay gave him an opportunity to ponder the situation again. These multilayered mazes—were they any different from the endless mazes on any one level, if a person proceeded randomly? Was there any more point in threading endless mazes than there was in blasting endless gunks, glitches, and icks? Especially considering that Dursten's blaster had pooped out? Well, he would find out. "Is there?" he asked Sning.

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  "Is that why you've been hesitant? You can guide us through the mazes, but there's not much point?"

  Squeeze.

  "Do you know an alternative?"

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  He had been afraid of that. "So we've still got to muddle through ourselves?"

  A reluctant squeeze. Sning was doing his best, and he was very helpful, but his limit of information had been reached; this castle maze was too complex.

  The Eviler Sorceress, Norton realized, didn't have to kill them directly. She could simply let them wear themselves out in interminable mazes until they were too tired to bother her, or until they made some mistakes and got creamed by whatever monsters defended the level they were on. They were fools to play the Sorceress' game—yet Sning lacked the power to penetrate that larger riddle.

  "Hick says there's a secret room," Excelsia announced.

  "Hick?" Norton asked.

  "The icks are named by letters. This is H ick. He says if he'd known how nice we are, he wouldn't have tried to roll us."

  Norton had an idea. "That room—does it have anything we can use—like maybe the amulet?"

  "Hick doesn't know," the Damsel said.

  "Sning, can you tell?"

  Squeeze.

  They were back in business! "It has the amulet?"

  Squeeze, squeeze.

  Sigh. Somehow things never turned out easy! "But it does have something that will help us shorten this rat race?"

  Squeeze.

  "Let's find it, then!" He turned to Excelsia. "Will Hick show us that room?"

  The Damsel talked to the ick by tapping on its surface with her delicate knuckle. The ick answered by making little off-center rolls. "He says he'll try," she repeated. "But the way is difficult."

  "It always is," Norton said with resignation. "We'll get through somehow. Lead the way."

  The ick rolled to the side of the chamber, somewhat awkwardly because of its—his?—injury, and stopped. "He says through there," Excelsia said.

  Norton contemplated the wall. It looked very solid. Well, Hick had warned that the way was difficult! "We have to break a hole?"

  Squeeze.

  Norton tapped the yellow wall with his knuckle. It was of the same substance as the ick, slightly resilient but quite solid, like padded plastic. He struck it with his fist, and made no impression. Just as he had suspected—soft but strong.

  "A danged padded cell!" Dursten said, disgusted. "Bemme, shape up and try it."

  The Bemme formed into a robot with a sledgehammer fist. She pounded this at the wall. The fist bounced off harmlessly. She changed form to that of a small crane with a dangling wrecking ball. This, too, bounced off harmlessly.

  Norton saw the problem. "A brittle surface would crack, but this padding absorbs most of the shock."

  "Hick says he could do it," Excelsia reported. "If he weren't injured."

&nb
sp; "It figgers," Dursten said wryly.

  The Alicorn poked at the wall with his horn. He succeeded in making a hole, but the horn got stuck and he had to wrench it out. He couldn't break through either.

  Norton pondered. "If the icks can do it—too bad we can't get their cooperation. Or can we, Sning?"

  Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

  Well, he could understand the little snake's problem. The creatures of the Sorceress answered to the Sorceress, so it was difficult for Sning to predict their reactions.

  "Shux," Dursten opined. "We don't need them things to agree. We can trick 'em into helping."

  Squeeze.

  "Sning says that's it," Norton reported.

  "Shore it is," the spaceman agreed complacently.

  "But how—?"

  "Aw, Bemme can do it. Bemme, trick 'em."

  The Bemme pondered a moment, then slid to the wall, formed a dripping-ink appendage, and painted a tunnel opening on it. The picture was very realistic; the Bemme was a fair artist. Then she slid to the center of the chamber and formed into a wooden barricade with an arrow pointing to the wall and a printed sign saying: DETOUR.

  "Say, that's neat!" Dursten said. "You're doing okay, Bemme." The wooden barricade purred.

  The spaceman walked to the line, crossed it, and then stepped back toward the center of the chamber.

  A dozen new icks rolled out of the opposite passage. They advanced on the barricade, hesitated, then made a right-angle turn and took off toward the wall. One by one, they plunged into the painted passage.

  The first one struck the wall roundly and smithereened. Hot on its tail, the second struck the same spot, denting the wall and in the process fracturing itself. Rapidly the others followed, and with each impact the dent grew deeper, until the last ick crashed on through. There was a faint whistling sound, followed seconds later by a distant thunk.

  The Alicorn trotted up to the hole in the wall and poked his head through. He neighed with surprise and withdrew.

  Norton looked next. Only a little light came through from Excelsia's candle; that showed beyond the wall a void—a crevasse whose height and depth were lost in darkness. There seemed to be no way around it; it paralleled the wall.

  Excelsia brought her candle and joined him. The candlelight showed another wall about ten feet beyond—evidently the confinement for the next chamber.