The Legend of Dan

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The Legend of Dan Page 25

by Robert Wingfield


  “That's how everybody gets here,” said Hector suspiciously. “I thought it said so on the invitation. You do have an invitation?”

  “Rabbit of Troy?” said Tom. “I thought it was a horse.”

  “Yes, we had to say that. We didn’t want anyone to think we were stupid enough to open our gates, and drag in a huge rabbit, cute though it was.”

  “How disappointing,” said Tom. “Do you think anyone will believe this when we get back home?”

  “I don’t think I believe it now,” said Suzanne.

  The road turned away from the edge of the cliff. In the distance, Tom began to make out a ruined citadel, black against the yellow sky.

  “Is that where we’re going?”

  The Trojan nodded. “We must leave the Edge and head towards it. It looks like a mess from way out here, but you wait and see.”

  The lizard horses began a canter, as they turned away from the Edge. As the group rolled towards the citadel, the building slowly changed, from being a broken ruin, to ‘deserted’, to ‘rundown’, to ‘in good order’, to ‘brand new’. They were approaching the gates, when the full splendour of the building shone forth as though floodlit.

  “Behold,” said their guide, “the most exclusive citadel in all the universes, ‘The Celebrated Fortress of the Dull Combatant on the Periphery of Occasion’.”

  “What a silly name,” said Tom. “Suzy, can you translate for me?”

  The girl murmured the words for a few moments. “What about ‘the Star Palace of the Sombre Warrior on the Edge of Time’?”

  “I think I had the track on tape somewhere.”

  “All that, if you like,” said the Greek. “I suppose it does sound a bit more impressive. I’ll see about getting all the invitations reissued.”

  “But it looked a ruin from a distance.”

  Hector nodded. “From the End of Time, all things are in ruin. We have simply travelled backwards through Time, likewise through Space. It’s one of the benefits of Living on the Edge.”

  “One small step for a lizard...” said Tom.

  The trio rode along the curtain wall of the citadel, to the main gate. Walls and towers seemed to be constructed of highly polished bronze, and the diamond gates of the fortress sparkled like a bejewelled chav. A sentry opened up for them. “Hi Hector. Thanks for the message from the Edge about these two. I’ve checked with Alphonse.”

  Hector shot a look at Tom, who fidgeted uncomfortably.

  “Apparently, he does have a brother, but he hates him. He feels that any friends of his brother would most likely be undesirables.”

  Tom broke out in a sweat. Suzanne groaned.

  “He therefore recommended that, if they are carrying no beverages, they are most likely the subversives who have threatened the life of the Dull Combatant, and it would be best for all involved, including the film crew, if they were gratuitously slaughtered.”

  The spear was again raised against them. “Sorry about this,” said Hector, “but have you any explanation? You know, in case we’ve got it wrong. It’s happened before,” he added, reflectively.

  There was a pregnant pause, which birthed beads of sweat on Tom’s forehead. He stammered, “Er, not Alphonse... you must have heard me incorrectly, I actually said, ‘Bill’.”

  “Bill who? We don’t have any Bills here.” The spear was drawn further back.

  “Sorry did I say Bill, I meant, er, John. That’s it, we’re friends of John.”

  The Greek’s face brightened. “Oh, you mean ‘John of Gaunt’. Why didn’t you say so? He knows everybody; he’s friends with everybody; he’s been married to most of them. What a mistake we nearly made. Come in, come in, good friends, and make yourselves at home.”

  “If you’re sure, o mighty Hector.” The sentry seemed sceptical, but waved his hand. Tom and Suzanne followed their guide into the main city. They were instantly impressed.

  Everywhere, there were streets paved with gold tiles, and no greasy beggars to trip over. Crowds of beautiful, immaculate people milled around, as they browsed market stalls. Big hairy minstrels played gentle ‘death-metal’ songs about their girls jilting them for a stockbroker (not the same one of course), having met one on ‘FinancialFriendGrinder.uni’, and sharply-dressed people in the stocks were suffering a barrage of woolly balls, thrown by uniformed street-urchins.

  “They have to be taught a lesson,” said Hector in answer to Suzanne’s enquiry about the punishment. “We have found that the humiliation of being forced to sit still for an hour, listening to rock music, and being gently pelted, is better than any violent chastisement.”

  “So what sort of crimes would that man have committed? I mean, we need to be aware, so we don’t fall into the same traps.”

  “I understand. It could have been not eating up all his food, or being cheeky about the weather, or perhaps turning up late for band practice. You have to be careful what you do and say here.”

  “We’ll remember that,” said Suzanne, sarcastically.

  “That’s exactly the sort of thing I mean,” said Hector. “Don’t let the mind-police hear you, if you’re going to take the piss.”

  The main gate of a large castle atop a hill admitted them to a much more formal area. Soldiers there were dressed in purple and black velvet uniforms, bearing the insignia of a spacecraft being flattened by a fist with seven fingers. There were fewer civilians, and they all looked prosperous.

  “Only the special guests in here,” said Hector. “You are honoured. I’ll get Mr. Gaunt to come and see you later. I’ll be interested to see who he’s married to today. Ah, the guest annex. We must dismount here, to keep the lizard poo to a minimum inside the confines. This will be your room. I’m sorry it’s a bit Spartan,” said their guide ushering them inside, “and I’d know— bloody Spartans—but all the good ones are occupied by the guests who arrived on time. This one would have been taken too, if Brianus had thought, before skewering the people allocated to it. I hope it will be acceptable.”

  They gazed at golden fittings, fantastically expensive decorations, and amongst many other luxuries, in the distance, a bed the size of a tennis court.

  “I suppose we can live with it,” said Suzanne. “Thanks Hector.”

  “That wasn’t sarcasm again?” The Greek looked sharply at her. “Once is silly, twice is naughty...”

  “Of course not,” she said innocently. “Cross my heart and hope nobody heard...”

  “I can’t remember what three times is, so I’ll catch you later then.” The Greek bowed and shut the door.

  “What’s this for?” Tom fiddled with a lever as they settled in to the room, found their bearings and collected them in a gold vase. A powered blind opened, revealing large windows over a square courtyard, filled with exotic plants and shrubs of many colours. The yellow light from the sky was filtered by a diamond cover over the quadrangle, and seemed to be amplified before it sparkled down on the foliage. A stream chuckled from a pile of gold rocks in the centre, and flowed in four directions, before disappearing under the sides of each of the facing rooms. “Lovely.”

  “Hey, look what I’ve found.” Suzanne called from a doorway beyond the bed. “Have you seen the size of this bath? We could sail a boat on here. By the way,” she laughed as she peeled off her clothes, and Tom gaped, “do you know, I haven’t had a bath for over two billion years?”

  “And I thought you were pleased to see me,” said Tom, ogling her svelte figure.

  A sponge loaded with water hit him in the face, and Suzanne dived, laughing, into the pool. Tom ripped off his own clothes and bombed into the bubbles of the ocean-sized tub after her.

  Suzanne eventually eased herself out of the water. Tom lay back on a mock lily-pad inflatable, and watched her as she headed for a hot air dryer.

  “Time for something to eat and hopefully drink, I think,” she said, standing with her back to him. Tom folded his knees to his chin. She turned and looked at
him, and he felt as though he had been hit by a blast of hot air too. As she stood there, with the draught ruffling her nearly dry hair, he realised that she was the avatar he had created with his fantasy game: her frame, now filled out healthily, her golden eyes flashing under the gentle lighting, and the clouds of beautiful hair. He swam over, climbed out and stood beside her, their bodies touching from head to toe. He kissed her, and she responded, pressing closer to him. He felt the stirring down below and his hands slipped down her back to her buttocks...

  There was a polite cough from the main room. Tom groaned, and released the girl, who sank gently on to one of the carpeted seats by the pool. He slipped on a bathrobe, and went to investigate. Soft velvet outfits in a rich purple colour had appeared on the bed while they bathed. A butler informed them that the celebrations were to start later in the evening, and if they felt like taking a few hours rest, now would be a good time.

  “So you got me out of the bath to tell me to get back in again?” Tom felt slightly annoyed.

  The butler was most apologetic. “I’m sorry, sir, but the protocols must be observed. This close to the Edge, any unbalance can have serious effects.”

  “You can go now.” Tom tried to open the door. “Is it stuck?”

  “No sir, it is locked for your own protection, because it is very easy to get lost in the citadel without a guide. Also, sir, you don’t need to let me out, as I am only a hologram.”

  The butler vanished as Suzanne emerged from the bathroom. “Who was that?”

  “A spectral butler; it said we should rest,” said Tom, “but I don’t really feel like it. What say we go out into the courtyard for a bit?”

  “Why not, I’d love one?” Suzanne was now filling her stomach from a fruit bowl the size of a radio telescope with one hand, and holding a glass of an excellent wine in the other. “See,” she said, indicating the bottle. “Proper wine. Press that button on the side, the top removes itself, and pings into the nearest recycling outlet.”

  “Suppose you want to reseal the bottle though?”

  “Poor boy,” she said. “Why would you ever want to do that? It doesn’t keep—well not with me around anyway. Shall we get dressed?”

  They put on the robes, which were exactly the right size, reaching almost to the floor, and discovered pairs of open sandals hidden underneath. Suzanne rummaged in a cabinet and found some of what she referred to as ‘the most expensive make-up in the Universe’. “Wow, look at this unit here.”

  “What is it,” asked Tom, not really interested.

  “See what happens when I put my head into it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No problem.” A clear dome briefly covered her upper body, and then lifted. The make-up had all been applied, perfectly. She looked...

  “Like a million dollars—all green and crinkly at the edges,” said Tom. “What a useful machine. Think of all the time that could save in the universes.” He ducked a playful swipe from a small chair, and slid the window open. They stepped out into the rich jungle, and sat quietly together on the pile of warm rocks in the centre, watching the water flowing down through the plants.

  There were voices coming from one of the other rooms off the courtyard. “Ah, fellow guests. Let’s go and say ‘Hello’,” said Tom, always one of chummy disposition.

  “Why not?” Suzanne kissed him, and stood up, stretching her long legs. They strolled towards to open window of the other room. Tom was about to shout a greeting, when the word, ‘kill’, froze the words on his lips. He pulled Suzanne below the window ledge, and they listened.

  “So,” said a voice, “our people are all in position. When the word is given, the Dull Combatant, or Sombre Warrior as he now seems to like calling himself, will be killed, and we will take over the Edge.”

  “Hush,” said another voice, “we could be overheard.”

  “Unlikely,” replied the first, “the rooms round here are all empty. I checked the register before we came in. Some guests never made it.” There was an unpleasant laugh.

  “So tell me, how did you manage to infiltrate the guards?”

  “Simple. We replaced them with our sympathisers already based here. A little surgical manipulation and bingo, here we are, ready to conquer the Void.”

  “Great, but what about my reward for letting you through the time barrier? You haven’t forgotten that I am to be made the new Combatant when the old one is killed?”

  “That’s why I’m here. We honour our debts.”

  Tom peered over the sill in time to see the first voice clap its hand over the second voice’s mouth, and force a long dagger into its back. The second voice grunted and slipped to the floor, its yellow blood pouring out over the carpet. The first voice gave an evil chuckle, as would be customary in this situation.

  “Oh, I forgot to say, we also lie through the posterior lobes. Cheerio, gullible friend.” He kicked the corpse, and left the room, quietly locking the door behind him on the way out.

  Tom took Suzanne in his arms. She sighed. “Why can’t we go somewhere nice for a change? I think everything’s rotten, even to the end of time.”

  “People,” said Tom, as though that explained everything. “We’ve got to get out and warn the Warrior. But the door’s locked...”

  “Through one of the other rooms?” Suzanne suggested, taking a deep breath. “I don’t suppose they’ve locked those, if they’re empty, as the man said.”

  “Good idea. But what about something to wear?”

  “This or nothing, I suppose,” replied the girl.

  “I hope they are going to let us have something more substantial before we go to see the investiture,” said Tom. “I mean, I don’t want to catch a chill.”

  “Wuss. Now come on and don’t shiver.”

  The window into one of the other rooms opened easily. The room door wasn’t locked, and they were soon out in the main corridor.

  “What are you guests doing out, before the investiture has started?” A challenge came almost immediately from a smart man in the standard guards’ uniform.

  “Do you have a chief of security?”

  “Of course.”

  “Take us to him. I think the life of the Warrior is in danger.”

  “We know it is,” said the man. “Do you have information?”

  Tom nodded.

  “Then you must come with me.”

  The soldier led them through golden corridors and courtyards, and to a spiral staircase. The décor changed to gain more of a military feel. The thick carpet now had pictures of guns and aeroplanes on it.

  “I think I had this in my bedroom when I was a kid,” whispered Tom.

  The guard heard. “Possibly. It’s very hard to get now, especially at the end of Time. There was a plague of carpet-moths, about a billion years ago, or it may have been a couple of weeks, and that wiped out all our stockpiles. You are standing on the last of this pattern in any of the universes, so don’t stub out any cigarettes on it. Anyway, this is what you might like to think of as the military heart of the complex. We are here now.” He stopped at a huge oak door, and knocked.

  “Avanti.”

  The soldier opened the door, and led them into a vast and incredibly comfortable room. In the distance was a man the guard introduced them to as the chief of security. He clicked his heels and then departed smartly.

  Suzanne and Tom were invited to sit down, and tell their story. The Chief listened silently, a solemn expression on his face, until they had finished speaking. “This is very serious,” he said, “and I must do something about it, immediately. Firstly, however, there is someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Tom gave a cry of shock as, from the shadows at the side of the room came the ‘assassin’ he had seen in the guestroom. “Shit!” he said, gazing at the blaster in the man’s hand.

  “Not your day is it?” said the chief. “I think that you’ll find that I too am one of those, to use your own words, ‘
botty bastard infiltrating subverters who are out to screw up your universe’. That’s quite unkind really. We are only here to liberate you all from the tyranny of the Warrior...”

  “And replace it with your own tyranny?”

  “You’ve got to have tyranny, otherwise the people start to think for themselves.”

  “What’s so bad about that?”

  “You get things happening, like Brexit.”

  “Point taken,” said Tom. “We’re on your side. Where do I sign?”

  “I see through your subterfuge,” said the chief. “I bet you voted in favour.”

  Tom shut his mouth with a snap.

  “Either way, I am going to kill you, painfully and messily.”

  Suzanne moaned. “Do you have no mercy?”

  “Yes I do,” said the Chief. “I will keep you alive instead, and kill you later for sport,” He called a guard in. “Throw them in the dungeon.”

  “Is there an appeal process?”

  “This is a coup, not a bloody human rights issue,” said the Chief. “The only appeal you have, is your lady-friend, which is why you will stay alive, so that I can torture you, to get her to be nice to me. It’ll be fun. Off you go. See you after the investiture.”

  The Coup

  In which the box is opened (spoiler alert).

  T

  om and Suzanne were dragged away, through silent, empty corridors, and thrown into a dark prison cell. Suzanne sat on the floor with her back against the wall. “I really thought we were okay before we got into all this,” she whispered.

  “Where there’s life…” said Tom.

  “What can we do now?”

  “We aren’t tied up, and the air seems fresh. This doesn’t look much like a dungeon, so there may be a way out. Now that my eyes have got used to the gloom, I’ll have a look round.”

  “Mine take longer to get used to it,” she said. “I’ll be fine soon, but what can you see?”

 

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