The Gate of Time

by Philip José Farmer

  He told the others in his party what he wanted to do. They agreed to follow him, especially after he said he thought the captive might give them valuable information. They spread out, taking some time to go around the hill and crawl along a depression. Entering the woods from the depression, they cautiously approached the Perkunishans. Ten minutes elapsed before they were crouching behind trees, close enough to hear the conversation. Since this was in Perkunishan, Two Hawks did not understand much of it, but it was obvious they were cursing and taunting the hanging man.

  By then, the fire was blazing high enough to lick at his bare feet. He had to be suffering intense agony, yet he said nothing. Two Hawks did not wait any longer for a more advantageous time. He did not want the captive to be crippled. He drew a bead on the stomach of the soldier nearest him; the others also sighted in. Two Hawks lifted one hand, held it, then chopped down. An almost simultaneous crash of gunfire smashed the three Perkunishans backwards. None of them moved again.

  Two Hawks rushed out, kicked the burning sticks to one side, and then cut the rope where it was tied to the tree-trunk. Two Blodlandish lowered the hanging man.

  Two Hawks removed his knife from his scabbard, but he did not offer to cut the giant’s bonds. He looked too dangerous. He was at least six feet seven high and three across the shoulders. His arms, chest, and legs were gorilloid in bulk. His face was broad and high-cheekboned; his nose, aquiline; his hair, straight and black. However, his skin was not especially dark, and his brown eyes had large green flecks.

  One of the Blodlandish, Aelfred Herot, questioned the man in Perkunishan. There was some rapid conversation, and Herot said, “He’s a Kinukkinuk.”

  Two Hawks nodded. Kinukkinuk was the Algonquian nation which occupied the area of Czechoslovakia of Earth 1. For over a hundred years, it had been part of Perkunisha.

  “He says his name is Kwasind, that is, the Strong One. He was in a Kinukkinuk regiment under the command of Perkunishan officers. He and other Kinukkinuk decided to desert and join the Hotinohsonih. But they were tracked down and cornered in the farmhouse. You saw the rest. I’ve explained who we are. He says he would like to throw in with us. He also speaks Hotinohsonih, since his mother was a slave from that country. He says she was freed by his father before he married her, so Kwasind is not the son of a slave. The Kinukkinuk are very proud, even if they are treated as sub-human by the Perkunishans.”

  Without a word, Two Hawks cut the ropes from Kwasind. The giant rubbed his wrists while he walked around to restore his circulation. The skin of his feet was very red but not burned.

  He sat down on a corpse to put his boots back on. Two Hawks handed him a rifle and a belt of ammunition and a knife.

  In Hotinohsonih, Kwasind said, “Thank you.”

  “You can walk all right?”

  “I can walk. But if you had been ten seconds later...”

  Two Hawks sent Herot back to bring up Ilmika and her guard. The casualties were checked. Three Perkunishans were still living, seriously wounded. Kwasind and the Blodlandish put them out of their pain with knives in the solar plexus. Kwasind took a sword from a dead officer and hacked off the heads of the Perkunishans. He arranged them in a little pyramid and then stood back a distance to admire the arrangement.

  O’Brien vomited. Two Hawks felt sick.

  Herot explained. “By severing the heads of his enemies, he’s keeping their souls from going to Michilimakinak, the Kinukkinuk heaven.”

  “Very interesting,” Two Hawks said. “I hope he doesn’t have any more customs which will delay us.”

  Ilmika and Elhson joined them. Ilmika turned pale on seeing the heads, but she did not say anything.

  Kwasind chanted over the bodies of his fellow countrymen, then opened their jackets and shirts. The left breast of each was tattooed with a swastika in a circle. These Kwasind removed by cutting a circle around them and stripping off the skin. He restored the fire that Two Hawks had kicked apart and threw the tattooed skins into the flames.

  Herot said, “The tattooed symbols contain the ‘souls’. If they’re burned, the souls are free to fly up to Michilimakinak. But if they’re taken by enemies, they could be dried or preserved in alcohol. The souls would then never get to Michilimakinak.”

  Two Hawks waited until Kwasind was finished. If the delay had been caused by anything but a religious custom, he would have insisted on leaving at once. In this case, it was important not to offend. To strike at a man’s religion was to strike at his basic identity.

  10

  The party walked northwards across the country all that day and the next. The dawn of the third, they were startled out of their sleep by the roar of many motors. Two Hawks crawled to the edge of the hollow in which they were hidden and looked down the slope of the hill at the road a quartermile below. It was crowded with a column of armored cars and trucks pulling cannon on caissons. All the vehicles were painted scarlet with blue bars. The doors bore the image of a black bear, rampant.

  “Itskapintik,” Ilmika said behind him. “They must finally be invading Hotinohsonih. We’ve known for some time that Perkunisha was trying to persuade the Itskapintik to join them. They’ve promised half of Hotinohsonih to them.”

  Two Hawks watched the stream of men, weapons, supplies, and vehicles roar by. The features of the soldiers under the round steel helmets somewhat resembled those of the Mexican Indians of Earth 1, although the skin was lighter.

  All day, the column rode by. The watchers from the hill dozed and took turns guarding. They did not dare to venture out in the light, even in the woods, because there were patrols in the countryside. When dusk came, they resumed their march. The next day, Aelwin Graenfield, the sick Blondlandish, could not get up. Weakly, he urged the others to leave him behind. They would not hear of it. He continued to get worse and by dawn was dead.

  They placed his body in a shallow grave scooped out with knives. Herot conducted the services, which consisted of a prayer by the Blodlandish as they circled sunwise around the open grave and dropped a fistful of dirt on the body at the bottom. Two Hawks stood with bowed head but watched the proceedings. The Blodlandish, like all west Europeans, subscribed to the same religion. This had been founded only a thousand years ago by a man named Hemilka. Inspired by a revelation, he had renounced the worship of the old gods and proposed to replace it with a monotheism. He had been martyred—suspended from a rope by one leg and both legs broken and then left to hang until he died from pain, thirst, and exposure. This was a form of execution for heretics, a form which had died out only seventy-five years ago.

  After Hemilka’s death, his disciples had scattered to escape the same punishment and also to spread his message. Eventually, Hemilkism triumphed, as the Christianity of Earth 1 had won after a long period of persecution.

  There were many parallels to Christianity in Hemilkism: salvation for all who believed in Hemilka, his virgin birth, a heaven, a hell, and a limbo for virtuous pre-Hemilka pagans. There was also a doctrine much like that which the Mormons held, baptism of the dead.

  Two Hawks explained the history and tenets of the religion to O’Brien. The sergeant was especially interested and proud that Earth 2’s Christ had been an Irishman.

  “It’s quite a coincidence,” Two Hawks said, “that the great western religions of our Earth were founded by Semites. Judaism and Christianity by the Jews and Islam by an Arab who took much of his religion from the previous faiths. But here...”

  “A mick is God’s only son, not a Hebe,” O’Brien said. “Didn’t you say he was born in Ireland! And who was his mother? Surely, she was Irish, too.”

  “Curiously enough, she was named Meryam,” Two Hawks said.

  Graenfield’s body was covered with dirt, and they got ready to take up the march. It was then that the Itskapintik police rose from behind the trees where they had been observing the ceremony.

  There were six, all with single-shot rifles, and ready to fire if the others did not lay down their arms.


  The policemen bound the hands of the captives behind them. A small boy, the farmer’s son who had reported them to the police, stood proudly to one side.

  The chief of the police, a short dark man with a big mouth full of very large protruding teeth, leered at Ilmika. The bound captives could do nothing but stand as passive witnesses to what followed.

  Suddenly, O’Brien, who had turned pale and started breathing like a winded horse, gave a whoop and ran forward, escaping the butt of the rifle swung at him. He covered the few yards between the prisoners and the police before the latter were aware of what was happening. He leaped into the air, bent his knees, and then kicked straight out. The policeman, bending over Ilmika, heard the warning shouts of the others and turned. His chin took the impact of both of O’Brien’s hard-driven boots. There was a crack as of a stick breaking, and he flipped onto his back.

  O’Brien slammed hard onto his back. His arms, tied behind him, took the brunt of the fall. He cried out with pain and rolled over and tried to struggle to his feet. A rifle butt cracked against the back of his head; he pitched forward on his face. The man who had struck O’Brien reversed his rifle and shot him in the back of his neck. O’Brien straightened out, quivered, and was still.

  The Itskapintik whom O’Brien had kicked was also dead, his jaw shattered and neck broken. Furious, the police began to beat the prisoners. Two Hawks was knocked to the ground by a rifle butt slammed into his shoulder. He was then kicked in the ribs twice. Another boot-toe driven into the side of his head stunned him.

  Their fury finally vented, the police quit. They talked violently among themselves for a while. The prisoners groaned or moaned or lay mute and motionless. The most brutally beaten, Herot, vomited through lips torn by a gun butt. Blood and teeth poured out on the ground.

  Two Hawks could not think straight for a while. His head felt as if a hot spike had been driven into it, and his shoulder ached like a rotten tooth. Later, he figured out why O’Brien had acted so suicidally. The sergeant had been slowly dying ever since he had learned that he was cut off forever from his native world. A deep grief has possessed him, one so piercing that his will to live poured out through the skin of his soul. And so he had deliberately caused his own death. It was an act of bravery and gallantry and thus did not look to the others as self-murder. And he had struck back at this world.

  Another blow to him, perhaps the most wounding of all, had been the knowledge that his religion did not exist here. He could not attend mass or confess. He would die with no chance of last unction or of being buried in holy ground.

  O’Brien’s act was not entirely in vain. It had taken the interest away from Ilmika. The chief growled an order. Dazedly, Ilmika struggled to her feet and submitted to having her hands retied.

  Herot quit vomiting. He got to his feet and resumed talking to the chief. The Itskapintik told him to shut up, and when Herot continued, the chief placed the muzzle of his revolver against Herot’s stomach. The Blodlandish was either out of his mind with grief and pain or else a very brave man who was not going to back down for anybody. From Herot’s tone, Two Hawks was sure that a good part of his talking was invective. He expected the chief to blow Herot’s guts out. The chief only grinned, shoved Herot away, and ordered the captives aboard a truck which had driven up. They were on the truck ten hours without food or water. The truck finally drove into a military camp. Here the prisoners were marched into a high-walled compound. A little water, some stinking stew and hard dry black bread was given them. Those whose lips and jaws were not too painful from the beatings ate.

  Night fell, and with it came a horde of mosquitoes. Morning brought some relief. An officer who could speak both Blodlandish and Hotinohsonih questioned them. Their stories seemed to alarm the officer. Guards came an hour later and took Ilmika away, treating her with courtesy.

  Two Hawks asked Herot if he had any idea of what was going on. Herot mumbled through swollen lips and broken teeth, “If Itskapintik was still neutral, we’d be set free with an apology. But not now. The best we can hope for is a life of slavery. The Lady Thorrsstein will probably be chosen by some high-ranking officer to be his whore. After he’s tired of her, she’ll go to a lesser officer. God knows what after that. But she’s a Blodlandish noble; she’ll kill herself at the first chance.”

  Two Hawks was not so sure. He suspected that something unusual was happening. The following day, he and Kwasind were taken to a building and into an office. Ilmika Thorrsstein, an Itskapintik officer, and a Perkunishan official were also there. The latter was splendid in a scarlet- and-white uniform, many medals, and huge gold epaulets. Ilmika looked much better. She had bathed, her hair was in a Psyche knot, and she was wearing a lady’s jacket and long skirt. However, she seemed withdrawn. The Perkunishan had to repeat questions several times before she would respond.

  Two Hawks caught on quickly. The very efficient espionage system of Perkunisha had learned about the capture of Ilmika shortly after it had taken place. It’s government had immediately “requested” that Ilmika, Two Hawks, and Kwasind be turned over to it. The Itskapintik government may have wondered what was behind the “request”, but it had no way of finding out. If it had suspected the truth about Two Hawks, it probably would have denied having him.

  It was not until later that Two Hawks found out why Ilmika and Kwasind were also wanted by Perkunisha. Ilmika was a grandniece of its ruler, the Kassandras. She was the daughter of his niece, who had married a younger brother of the king of Blodland. After the king’s brother died, the Kassandras’ niece had married Lord Thorrsstein, himself a cousin of the king. Ilmika was born of this marriage. The Kassandras did not want his grandniece to fall into the barbarous hands of the Itskapintik.

  As for Kwasind, he had been mistaken for O’Brien. That error would soon be detected, but it would last long enough for him to be taken to Berlin with the other two. The Blodlandish were never heard of again. Two Hawks supposed that they were swallowed up in the maw of a labor camp.

  Before the three boarded the train that was to take them to Berlin, they witnessed the execution of the chief and his four policemen. These were marched into a courtyard in which were a number of pillars with a projecting horizontal beam on top of each. The police were naked, and their skins were covered with bruises and whipcuts. Their hands were bound behind their backs. The executioners looped the ends of thick wires tightly around one ankle of each of the prisoners. Then they turned cranks which wound the wires around a drum. The prisoners were lifted to a height of six feet by the wires tied around their ankles.

  The police were courageous. Two Hawks had to give them credit for that. Two even spat at the executioners. But bravery soon dissolved before the pain of stretching skin. They hung screaming and writhing, the skin lengthening slowly from their weight, until they fainted. Cold water over their naked bodies revived them; they began screaming again. One man fell when his violent contortions caused his ankle to be severed. He was picked up, the wire rewound around his calf, and he was hauled up into the air again.

  Two Hawks did not feel sorry for them. They were getting what they deserved. Nevertheless, he felt sick, and he was glad when Ilmika said that she was satisfied that justice was being done. They left the building but had to go a long way before they ceased to hear the screams.

  Two Hawks did not think he was going to like what lay ahead of him in Berlin, yet he felt relieved when they crossed the Itskapintik border. Not until then did the uneasiness in his mind go away.

  The car in which they rode was, in many ways, luxurious. Two Hawks and Kwasind had a compartment for themselves. The food was excellent, and they could drink as much beer, wine, or whiskey as they wished. They could even take a bath. Nevertheless, there were iron bars over every window, and armed guards stood on both sides of the doors at each end of the car. The officer in charge, a Khiliarkhos (captain) Wilkis, was never far away. He took his meals with the two men and helped Two Hawks with his lessons in Perkunishan.

  Ilmik
a stayed in her compartment. The few times she came out, she seemed constrained. He supposed that it was because he had witnessed her disgrace. Not only did she feel embarrassment that he had seen her suffering an outrage, she probably felt contempt because he had not tried to defend her. In her code, any gentleman would have died rather than permit a noblewoman to be dishonored. Two Hawks did not try to defend himself. She had seen what had happened to O’Brien. Moreover, her own people, Herot and the others, had not fought for her. They had chosen the realistic path—and wisely, he thought. What did she think of them?

  Ilmika said nothing about this. She answered Two Hawks’ greetings with a cold nod. He shrugged and sometimes smiled. What did he care? He had been attracted to her, but they were abysses apart. He was neither Blodlandish nor noble. Even if she were in love with him—and she had not given the slightest sign she was—she would have to forget about him.

  Two Hawks occupied himself in learning the language and also studying the country he saw through the car windows. Its topography, he supposed, would be much like that of Poland and Germany of Earth 1. The dwellings were not too different in structure, although there was a tendency to decorate with what he called “curlicue” architecture. The peasants were dressed simply, were shaggy-haired and not too clean. The absence of horses gave him a strange feeling. There was no plowing at this time, but Wilkis told him that oxen were used, although the beasts were being replaced by steam or gas tractors on the big estates. Wilkis boasted that his country had more farm tractors than any other nation in the world.

  At the city of Gervvoge, another officer joined them. Vyautas wore an all-black uniform with silver epaulets and a silver boar’s head on his tall red shako. His face was gaunt and thin-lipped, yet he turned out to be affable and quickwitted. He was liable to pun at the slightest or no excuse. Two Hawks was not deceived. Vyautas was there for preliminary questioning of the two prisoners.