The Gate of Time

by Philip José Farmer

  He laughed, although he was not amused, and said, “No, Milady, I am not asking you to be my mistress. You will have to do nothing beyond the requirements of your secretarial duties.”

  She said, “Why shouldn’t I be your whore? I owe you so much.”

  “You don’t owe me that much! Even if you did, I’d never ask you to pay up. I want a woman who loves me—or at least desires me.”

  She was still red in the face, but she looked steadily into his eyes.

  “If I did not desire you, do you think I’d accept your food and lodging now? Do you think me so empty of pride?”

  He stood up and then leaned over her. She raised her face and closed her eyes for his kiss. Her arms came up around his neck, and she rose. She worked her mouth against his and pressed her body against him.

  He pushed her away. “You’re trying too hard. You don’t really want to kiss me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Turning away, she began to weep. “Does no one want me? Do you reject me because I have been dishonored by those beasts in Itskapintik?”

  Two Hawks turned her to face him. He said, “Ilmika, I don’t understand you. Are you doing this because you feel that your virtue was taken away by an act of force?”

  “Don’t you know? There’s not a nobleman in Blodland who’d have me now, since my story is known.”

  “So you’ll take me because I’m a commoner, and commoners don’t care about virtue in their women? Or a commoner should be delirious with joy to get a noblewoman, no matter what her state of virtue? I’m the last refuge, right?”

  She slapped him hard. Then she came at him with her fingernails. He caught her wrists and held her away from him.

  “You dumb bitch! I love you! I don’t give a damn about your virginity! I love you and want you to love me! But I’ll be go-to-hell if I’ll have a woman who thinks of me as being so low I can’t refuse even her! You’re not going to punish yourself by punishing me!”

  He shoved her so hard she fell on the seat, and he said, “The offer is still good. Give me your decision when we reach Tolkinham. Meanwhile, I’m getting out.”

  He slammed the door behind him. The rest of the night, he slept sitting on the floor of the aisle, propped against the side of a seat. He did not sleep well. When the train pulled into Tolkinham, he returned to the compartment. Gilbert was the only one in it.

  “Where did Thorrsstein go?” Two Hawks said.

  “I don’t know. I thought she went to say goodbye to you.”

  Two Hawks pushed through the crowd on the aisle, drawing some black looks and muttered rebukes. Once outside, he looked through the station. She was gone. He thought of sending Kwasind to look for her, but an officer stopped him. He was handed his latest orders, which were to report to the Kreion Grettirsson. Two Hawks wondered why an infantry general wanted him. He hitchhiked a ride on an army car to the big camp outside Tolkinham and went to the Kreion’s camp. Grettirsson informed him that the Blodlandish Lyftwaepon was no more. The shortage of gas and oil was so acute that fuel supplies would be reserved for military ground vehicles only. Two Hawks was to serve as commander of a regiment of armored cars. That is, he would until the gas ran completely out. Then he would be an infantryman.

  Two Hawks left the tent knowing that the island was doomed. Within a month or two, the Perkunishans would own Blodland.

  During the four weeks of fighting that followed, Two Hawks heard about developments in Perkunisha. Despite triumphs abroad, all had not gone well in Berlin. The two sons of the Kassandras had been killed in a train wreck. The Blodlandish agents reported their doubts about the wreck being an accident. On hearing of his sons’ deaths, the Kassandras was paralyzed by a stroke. Six days later, he died of pneumonia. His male heir, a nephew, was assassinated on his way to Berlin. The Perkunishans accused Blodland of the killing and soon after accused it of having caused the train wreck. Blodland denied any connection with the deaths. The Blodlandish agents had their own suspicions, all of which pointed at Raske.

  The German’s ambitions were well known. He wanted to marry the Kassandras’ daughter. If he did, he would become Prince Consort—provided that the Grand Council made her queen. The Council was convening now, debating whether to crown her or to choose a Kassandras from a list of male nobles.

  Meanwhile, the armies in the field conducted business as usual. The Protector of Blodland, Erik Leonitha, proved to be a brilliant tactician. Three times he defeated the invaders in large-scale battles. Each time, he had to retreat, unable to hold the ground he had won. The Perkunishans brought up new armies, strong with fresh troops and superior weapons. The enemy air force, no longer having Two Hawks’ planes to fear, made northern Blodland hideous with strafing and bombing attacks.

  Then, the Blodlandish fuel supply was gone. The army retreated on foot to their last stand. The enemy planes harassed them, and the enemy armor bit at their heels. Two Hawks and Kwasind, riflemen now, made it to Ulfstal. Two Hawks was handed a note from Humphrey Gilbert. He read it, then said, “Kwasind, Ilmika is a nurse in the army hospital here. And before that she was working in an ammunition factory. She has guts. I knew I wasn’t in love with just a pretty face.”

  Kwasind was not tactful. “She may have guts. But does she love you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m still hoping. Maybe she’s supporting herself just to show me she can be independent. Maybe she’ll come to me as an equal after she’s proved she doesn’t have to take me because I’m the only one who’ll have her.”

  “A woman is not the equal of a man,” Kwasind said. “You should have taken her and taught her to love you. What is all this talk about independence? A woman should be dependent upon a man.”

  Two Hawks went looking for Ilmika that evening. He found the hospital, but it had been bombed and was no longer used. The wounded were in tents around the gutted building. It took him an hour to locate her in a large tent on the edge of the camp.

  Seeing him enter, she was so startled she dropped a roll of bandages. She picked the roll up off the dirt floor, evidently intending to use it without sterilizing it. He said nothing about the bandages, since he had long ago learned that it was useless to protest. These people knew nothing of germs and did not want to hear about them.

  “Greetings, my lord,” she said.

  “Health to you, Milady. Dammit, Ilmika, don’t be so formal! We’ve been through too much for this my-lord-my-lady crap!”

  She smiled and said, “You are right—as usual. What are you doing here?”

  “I could say I came to visit with a sick friend.”

  “Do you mean me?”

  He nodded and said, “Will you marry me?”

  She gasped and almost dropped the bandages again.

  “Surely, you’re... You shouldn’t joke about a thing like that.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and said, “Why should I be joking? You know I love you. I couldn’t ask you to be my wife before because... well, you know all the reasons too well. But things have changed. Blueblood, class barriers don’t mean much any more. And if Blodland wins or loses the war, things will never be the same again. And if you can ever quit thinking like an aristocrat, look at me as a woman looks at a man, we can be happy.

  “Can you do that?”

  She did not reply. He waited until he could stand the silence no more.

  “Say yes or say no!”

  “Yes!”

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. She did not seem to be trying to imitate passion this time.

  A doctor interrupted them and ordered her to get back to work. Two Hawks said, “Ilmika, if things go badly tomorrow, I’ll try to meet you in Lefswik. I’ll be shipping out to Dublin from there if we’re defeated here—and I expect we will be. I have plans for us, but there’s no time to talk about them. Meanwhile, I love you!”

  Tears in her eyes, she whispered, “I love you. But, Roger, I’m afraid of tomorrow. What if I don’t ever see you again?”

  “Then you
won’t. But it’ll only be because I’ll be dead.”

  She shivered.

  “Don’t say that!”

  “Everything should be said.”

  He gave her a final kiss and walked away, returning the doctor’s glare with a smile. On the way back to his quarters, he was stopped by a noncom, who told him he was to report to the Protector. Wondering what Leonitha wanted of him, Two Hawks followed the noncom to the pavillion-tent. He had to identify himself to two officer-guards before he was admitted. This security precaution was necessary, since assassination of high-ranking officers was normal procedure in war. In fact, the Protector had narrowly escaped being killed two days before. One of the unsuccessful Perkunishans had shot himself in the head before he could be taken. The other was too seriously wounded to kill himself. When he regained consciousness, he was hung upside down over a bonfire.

  16

  In the tent, Two Hawks snapped to a salute before the Protector, seated behind a desk. His arm, however, did not fall back to his hip with the prescribed swiftness. Two Hawks was too astounded at sight of the man on a chair at the rear of the tent.

  “Raske!”

  The German grinned and waved airily.

  “My old friend—and enemy—the red-skinned Two Hawks!” he said.

  A beautiful blonde woman sat on another chair by Raske. She was richly dressed, and her neck, fingers, and arms glittered with gems. Two Hawks guessed at once that she was Persinai, daughter of the Kassandras.

  The Protector explained their presence. A new Kassandras had been elected by the Grand Council. One of his first acts had been to order the arrest of Raske. The German was charged with the assassination of the heirs to the throne.

  Raske had been one step ahead of him. He had talked the Kassandras’ daughter into running away with him. The two fled from Perkunisha in one of the new two-engined fighter planes. Raske landed at a field in Rasna (Earth 1’s France) and brazened his way through. He got his plane refueled, after which he got as far as a meadow on the eastern coast of northern England.

  He and his bride were asking for sanctuary.

  “I don’t know whether I should shoot him or listen to him,” the Protector said. “He’s worth nothing as a hostage and it’s too late to use his technical knowledge.”

  Raske said, “If you can scrape up enough gas, I’ll fly Two Hawks to Ireland. Blodland will need both of us, since you will have to make a last stand there.”

  Two Hawks said, “Ireland doesn’t have any gas, either. So what good could we do there?”

  “I’ll tell you something the Perkunishans have been keeping very secret. There won’t be any invasion of Ireland until next year. Perkunisha has overextended itself. It’s committed so deeply on the mainland and here that it can’t launch another major campaign. Of course, Perkunisha will try to bluff. It’ll demand that the Blodlandish forces in Ireland unconditionally surrender. But if you refuse, if you hold out, you’ll have a year to make preparations. By then, you may have supplies, gas, oil, ammunition. I’ve been in touch with the Ikhwani. They’re willing to provide all Ireland needs. And they’ve no fear of the Perkunishan navy. They figure it’s been too weakened by its losses.”

  Raske started to rise but was restrained by the guard behind him.

  “If Two Hawks and I will give the Ikhwani all the information they need to build an air force, they’ll aid Blodland!”

  The Protector spoke to Two Hawks. “Can we believe him?”

  “Oh, yes, you can. I don’t doubt that he’s been dealing with Ikhwan, just in case he did have to run for his life. But all this about Ikhwan rearming and resupplying us in Ireland is hog-wash. Even if the Ikhwan dared to run battleships and freight ships to Ireland, they’d be blasted out of the waters. The Perkunishan air force would take care of that. No, there’s no hope from Ikhwan.”

  “I thought so,” the Protector said. He spoke to Raske, “You’re going to the guardhouse while I decide what to do with you. Your wife will be lodged in a house, where she’ll be treated well. After all, she’s the Kassandras’ daughter. What happens to you, Raske, depends upon the outcome of the battle tomorrow. If we lose, Perkunisha will have you, and I suppose you’ll be shot on sight. If we win... well, I may shoot you. Because of you and your flying machines, Blodland is denied a chance to arm itself again in Ireland.”

  As Raske was escorted from the tent, Two Hawks said, “Tough luck, my kraut friend. You lived high on the hog for a while, higher than you ever would have on Earth 1. Be content with that.”

  Raske grinned back at him. “Red-skin, I’m not dead yet. I’ll see you later, that is, if you’re alive.”

  Two Hawks watched him being marched off and thought that Raske’s words were more than bravado. Tomorrow’s battle might be Two Hawks’ last. As it turned out, it was almost—but not quite. Four times during the day, he was slightly wounded by shell fragments, by grenade fragments, and once by a bayonet during hand-to-hand combat. Dusk came, and with it the Blodlandish retreated northward. Two Hawks and Kwasind walked west, since they thought that the main part of the Perkunishan army would be streaming upland, hot for the kill.

  “We could take to the hills and lead a miserable life as guerrilla fighters,” Two Hawks told Kwasind. “Eventually, if we didn’t starve, we’d get caught. So, it’s to the coast for us and a boat to Ireland. What the hell, we don’t owe these people anything! It’s not our fight; it’s not even my world. I’m getting to Hivika—somehow.”

  They arrived at the port of Lefswik on the edge of the Irish Sea. Lefswik was crowded with refugees, all wanting to take passage on the four large steamers and the score of smaller ones. Two Hawks did not have much hope of being allowed on board unless he could find some important official to secure a berth for him. He had, however, not even gotten to the docks before he heard his name called. He turned to see the fat body of Humphrey Gilbert pushing through the crowds, Gilbert was smiling and waving a handful of papers.

  “Two Hawks! My fellow Earthman! What luck! I’ve been looking for you, hoping that you’d show up, despite all the odds against your doing so! I can get you into my stateroom! You’ll have to sleep on the floor! But hurry! The ship leaves in thirty-five minutes! I’d just about given up all hope!”

  “Did you see Ilmika Thorrsstein?” Two Hawks said.

  “Did I see her?” the fat man jumped up and down in glee. “She’s in my stateroom, too! She... never mind... she came looking for you, and she’s all right! Lovers reunited, joy requited, and all that!”

  Two Hawks was too happy to reply. He heard only half of Gilber’s chatter. They were stopped at the bottom of the gangplank where an official took an exasperating amount of time going over the papers. He did not, however, give them an argument. If he had, he would have found himself thrown into the water by Kwasind’s huge hands. Two Hawks would have stormed the ship to get to Ilmika, a foolish move, since the marines at the upper end of the gangway would have shot him down.

  He was not so caught up with his rapture, however, that he did not see a familiar face in the mob on the foredeck. He stopped, looked again, and then shook his head. It could not be.

  But he was not mistaken. Blond, curly-headed, handsome Raske was grinning at him. The German waved his hand and then turned and disappeared into the crowd. His feeling that he would not be betrayed by Two Hawks was correct. Two Hawks wondered how Raske had gotten out of the guardhouse and made his way here and on board a vessel which was taking only the elite of the refugees. He would find out later. Meantime, if Raske was clever and quick enough to make good his escape, he could have it. For the time being, anyway. All Two Hawks wanted now was to hold Ilmika in his arms.

  This he did, although with no privacy. Besides Gilbert and Kwasind, there were five others in the cabin. They pretended to ignore the two lovers and talked on as if nothing were happening. Looking up momentarily from between kisses, Two Hawks saw them glancing covertly at him, their amusement or embarrassment apparent. He did not care.


  The ship left the harbor and gained speed as swiftly as its laboring engines would allow. It was not safe now nor would it be even after it docked in Dublin. At any moment, Perkunishan planes could appear to strafe and bomb. Then, a fog set in, and they were secure—provided they did not ram another ship or run afoul of reefs close to the Irish shore.

  Two Hawks hated to do it, yet he had to find Raske and determine what he was up to. He still was not sure that he would not turn the German in. Raske represented no genuine threat to the Blodlandish at the moment. He could do little against them or for them, although he might possibly be very valuable later on. Or he might end up being a Blodlandish nobleman or even their ruler. Two Hawks would put nothing past Raske.

  He found him sitting on a blanket on the deck. There were others close but half-hidden by the thick fog. Two Hawks called his name until the German answered. Two Hawks said, “Where’s Persinai?”

  “She’s dead,” Raske said unemotionally. “Right after we escaped—and I must tell you about that some time, my red-skinned friend, you wouldn’t believe how I got out... well, I had weapons; I gave her a gun. And she killed herself. She’d been despondent ever since she was put in the guardhouse; conscience, I think. She felt guilty because she’d deserted her people. And she blamed me for her father’s death, hence herself, for having fallen in love with me.”

  Two Hawks was silent for a while. Raske’s story could be true. On the other hand, he was capable of abandoning her if he thought she would hinder him. Whatever the truth, it would probably never be known by any but Raske.