High in the sky flew a bird with a long, cigar-shaped body, a small beak, and short square wings, entirely snow-white. The creature mostly glided through the air, creating an impression of extraordinary lightness.
The bird seemed focused on the mygale, still at a dead stop on the desert below. If an observer had been able to approach the bird in flight, he might have detected something that looked like a camera lens in one of its eyes.
And indeed, it was.
The scene being observed by the strange “spybird” was being relayed to, and broadcast inside, the column of light in Kkal’s sanctum. There, it was being watched with great interest by the King, his Chamberlain Ddôl, and the mysterious “Vôo.”
“It seems the Nyctalope has left Olbansville and is coming here in that overgrown rust bucket,” said Kkal. Then, turning towards the Vôo, he asked: “What should we do now?”
“We must act at once,” replied the scarlet-clad figure. “We must stop the Nyctalope.”
“The thing is, I’m not ready for an open conflict with the French—yet.”
“If we don’t stop the Nyctalope and he uncovers our plans, we’ll suffer a calamitous setback.”
King Kkal thought for a minute, contemplating his options. Then, having made up his mind, he barked:
“Right. You want action? I’ll show you action!” He turned to the Chamberlain. “Ddôl, alert our agent in Choon Ya. Tell him to destroy the Nyctalope!”
“Welcome to Choon Ya, ma chérie” said the Nyctalope.
As the mygale drove over the last hill, the village of Choon Ya came into view. Everything, including the city’s enclosing wall, was a uniform silver-gray. Nowhere could doors or windows be seen, but every building had an indented pyramidal roof, and, at the top, instead of the tip of the pyramid, there was an entrance and exit “door” with convex panels and lock that Leo and Gisèle could make out quite clearly.
The buildings were large and small, round and oblong, triangular and square; the streets below were sinuous and maze-like. Normally, there would have been numerous Diurnals entering or emerging from the edifices, circulating on foot in the streets, or launching themselves into the air from the top of the ramparts, crossing the river in a descending glide and landing on the plain outside the walls.
But not today. Today, Choon Ya appeared to be deserted.
“That’s odd,” said Leo. “Where are all the villagers?”
The mygale drove under a gate-like arch and entered the city
“Maybe we came in at the time of their daily siesta or something like that?” said Gisèle.
“Don’t be silly. Why is the city empty?”
Suddenly, they saw and heard some sound-and-light activity at the end of a long avenue.
“It’s not empty,” said Gisèle. “What’s going on over there?”
“Let’s find out.”
The Nyctalope drove the mygale towards the source of the mysterious phenomenon.
They arrived at what looked like a town square, round in shape, surrounded by a colonnade, from which radiated seven avenues. In its center, on a dais, stood a bizarre figure dressed in eccentric, multicolored clothes performing a strange juggling ritual with two crimson rings and wands in front of the gathered villagers, while chanting an incomprehensible melody. The hypnotized villagers swung their heads from side to side in accord with the music, a glazed look in their eyes.
“What the Hell is going on?” exclaimed Gisèle, taken aback by the strange ceremony.
The Nyctalope frowned, for he had just recognized the colorful juggler. He shared his discovery with his companion.
“It’s our agent, Jaffa M’Deni.”
“What is he doing?”
“Performing some kind of ritual, I suppose... Seeding Day or something like that.”
“I don’t like him. He looks... strange.”
“That he is. But he’s also been our operative in this city for many years. Let’s go and talk to him.”
The Nyctalope pressed a button and a holographic image of him sitting in his command chair appeared just in front of the mygale. He raised his hand in a salute and said:
“Greetings, Jaffa M’Deni!”
Jaffa turned around and, on discovering the mygale and the image of its driver, grinned an evil grin.
“Nyctalope! I had been exponding you with great malevance...”
“I don’t like this,” whispered Gisèle into Leo’s ear.
“Neither do I,” he whispered back. “I’ve never seen him like this.”
Jaffa recaptured one of his crimson rings with a wand, twirled it a few times, then, suddenly, hurled it towards the mygale.
“Die, Nyctalope, die!” he screamed.
“Leo! Do something!” shouted Gisèle.
“I don’t believe it,” said the Nyctalope. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
As the crimson ring zoomed ever faster towards the mygale, the Nyctalope pushed a button. An energy beam shot out of one of the cannons and hit the ring, which exploded in mid-air.
“It would seem that Jaffa M’Deni has turned traitor,” said Leo, with a note of sadness in his voice.
“Isn’t that obvious?” said Gisèle, angry. “I think you should smash that little worm to a pulp.”
“Uh-uh. He is using Builders’ technology. God knows where he’s got it from, but I can’t match it. The mygale doesn’t pack that kind of firepower. But everything has some value. At least, it confirms my suspicions... We’ll be lucky if we get out of here in one piece though…”
At the Nyctalope’s command, the battletruck turned around and prepared to flee. But Jaffa had other ideas. He plucked the other crimson ring out of the air, while cursing:
“You can’t crapete away like this, Nyctalope!”
And just as the mygale drove into a side street, Jaffa used his waqnd to throw his second ring towards it.
The ring chased the vehicle like a heat-seeking missile and finally hit the back where the engine was. Almost immediately, there was big explosion.
Unseen by the crowd, however, the control module detached seconds before the explosion, flew through the air, and landed with a thud on the ground below after bouncing a few times. It finally reached a halt by bumping against a wall.
The Nyctalope, battered, bruised and disheveled, extricated himself from the wreck, helping Gisèle by giving her his arm.
“Are you hurt, chérie?”
“Not really… Just a little startled.”
Gisèle looked at the wreck and shook her head in wonder.
“You really built that mygale well... Amazing...”
Meanwhile, the Nyctalope stepped back inside the wreck and returned carrying a small briefcase.
“We can’t stay here,” he said. “It’s only a matter of minutes before Jaffa finds us.”
Indeed, Jaffa had been running towards the site of the explosion and, when they raised their heads, they saw him coming towards them.
“Nyctalope! Nyctalope! Where are you, you little lanske?”
Realizing that he had not spotted them yet, Leo pulled Gisele towards a tiny alley and they began running through the maze-like streets of Choon Ya.
“Let’s get out of here. We’ve got to get to Qotwaa quickly. Fortunately, we’re near the riverfront… Faster, chérie, or we’ll miss the boat!”
“The boat? What boat?”
“This way!” said Leo, pulling Gisèle through a hole in a crumbling wall.
They then descended a flight of old stone steps covered with moss.
“Hurry!” said Leo.
They arrived in a bare room covered in hieroglyphs with a single-panel, reinforced metal door at the far end.
“We got here just in time,” said the Nyctalope, sounding relieved.
He opened his briefcase.
“I know the damn thing’s in here somewhere.... Ah... At last!”
He pulled out a key and inserted it in the lock. The door opened, revealing a busy wharf occupied by
a mixed crowd of Diurnals and Nocturnals. There were bales of leaves tied together waiting to be loaded and unloaded. Tied to it was a large paddleboat, not unlike the Mississippi Paddleboats, painted in brash and garish colors.
Gisèle gasped in amazement.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” said Leo. “And right on schedule, as always. I love the Polychromatic Paddleboat!”
The Nyctalope and his lady-friend stepped aboard the boat, Leo waving the key at the ticket-taker, who saluted them.
They then settled inside a plush, first-class cabin occupied by only one other passenger, already asleep.
Soon, there was a loud whistle, the sound of steam being released, a last bustle of frantic agitation on the wharf, and the Polychromatic Paddleboat left Choon Ya.
The countryside swept by the windows on both sides of the cabin.
“You might as well enjoy the view, ma chérie,” said Leo. “It’ll take us a couple more days to reach Qotwaa, but, on the other hand, there’s nothing like a boat ride for seeing the sights.”
Chapter VIII
The Blot
In the streets of Choon Ya, Jaffa M’Deni was examining the still-smoking remains of the mygale. It didn’t take long to note for him to the absence of bodies.
Furious, he several some arcane gestures in the air with his wands, then started speaking into the space between the two.
Far to the north, at King Kkal’s sanctum, the image of Jaffa M’Deni appeared inside the light column.
“I have escorned the French machine, but the Oppressor seems to have survivated,” he reported.
“That is welcome news,” said Lucifer. “I’ve long desired to again have the hated Nyctalope in my clutches. Bring him to me, Jaffa, I desire to crush him myself, to experience the ineffable joy of…”
But Kkal, interrupting his partner, barked:
“You mean, you’ve allowed him to escape, you bumbling buffoon?”
Jaffa’s expression became apologetic.
“I’m affligated to admit so, O Mighty King. The Nyctalope is a sly one and...”
Lucifer finally realized what Jaffa had been saying and was enraged.
“What? You failed? You suffered the Nyctalope to live?” His form began shimmering and was shaken by violent static bursts. “You will pay for your incompetence!”
A small energy sphere formed between Lucifer’s hands. He threw it towards the column of light.
“Please, grafiotous one...” begged Jaffa.
But the ball had already entered the column of light and rematerialized just in front of the stunned Jaffa.
The ball pulled the hapless Diurnal into itself, then began shrinking, as it rotated faster and faster, until it disappeared with a pop.
Inside the King’s sanctum, Kkal and Ddôl exchanged a concerned look. Ppy was cowering in fear. Lucifer turned towards them and shouted:
“You must locate the Nyctalope at once!”
“You heard the great Vôo,” said Kkal. “Engage the search. Mobilize all spybirds.”
Ddôl started punching in commands while Ppy ran around activating various devices.
“Search commencing, O great King,” said Ddôl.
A multitude of images began to flash across the screen…
Meanwhile, aboard the Polychromatic Paddleboat, Gisèle d’Holbach stood at the window, marveling at the strange landscape along the riverbanks.
“This whole area is remarkable. The impression of alienness is overwhelming, and yet it’s strikingly beautiful.”
“I knew you would like this region. It’s quite wonderful. I spent several months charting it during my first visit here...”
But high in the sky, unbeknownst to the Nyctalope and his companion, a spybird glided in the air, as it flew above the boat.
Soon, the image of the Nyctalope and Gisèle standing on the boat appeared inside the column of light in King Kkal’s laboratory.
“Ha!” gloated Kkal. “Even the mighty Nyctalope is no match for my spybirds!”
But then, the King suddenly realized what the Nyctalope’s presence in the area meant.
“Wait! If he’s on the Polychromatic Paddleboat, that means he managed to escape Choon Ya and he is headed directly for Qotwaa! He’s coming here!”
He turned towards Lucifer.
“How can we stop him, Great Vôo?”
“Use the special weapon I provided.”
Kkal and Ddôl nervously looked at each other, while Ppy found refuge in a corner.
“The Blot? But that’s impossible.”
“Yes. It’s against the Pact.”
“Ha! Ha!” sneered Lucifer. “You desire to destroy the Nyctalope, but you’re afraid of breaking his laws!”
Kkal grew enraged at hearing this taunt:
“I’m afraid of nothing. I’ll release the Blot!”
At the top of the mountain under which Qotwaa was located, a camouflaged double-door slid open, revealing a hangar hidden behind it.
A Nocturnal dressed in a full leather uniform and carrying a skull-like helmet came out of an elevator and walked towards an elongated, egg-like object, black as soot. It looked like a giant drop of ink, liquid, shiny, but strangely not reflecting its surroundings.
Kkal’s voice was heard through a loud-speaker:
“Uunan, are you ready?”
“Yes, O mighty King,” said the helmeted Nocturnal.
“This is the moment for which you have trained. Release the Blot!”
The drop of ink appeared to shiver as a small undulation rippled across its smooth surface. There was a rumbling sound in the hangar, followed by a low vibration, as the mysterious artifact was activated.
Uunan stepped into the Blot like a man walking into water, and disappeared inside its inky substance.
Then, the Blot began rising above the ground, floating in the air for a few seconds, before bursting out of the mountain like a rocket, despite its apparent lack of propulsion.
“Uunan? Do you hear me?” said Kkal’s voice, emerging from inside the inky substance.
“I hear you perfectly, Great King. What are your orders?” replied Uunan.
“Your mission is to destroy the Polychromatic Paddleboat. Understood?”
“Yes, My King!”
The Blot zoomed away towards the south on its mission of destruction.
Unaware of the looming danger, the great Paddleboat was now crossing some wetlands that looked like rice-paddies country.
“Will we be there soon?” asked Gisèle.
The Nyctalope looked at his watch.
“We should be in Qotwaa in... just about six hours.”
Gisèle suddenly shaded her eyes with her hand.
“Oh, that is odd… It looks like some kind of flying object…”
“You must be mistaken, chérie,” said Leo, who was looking in another direction. “The Pact we signed with the Rheans in 1935 specifically forbids the creation of airplanes. It must be a very large bird.”
“I told you before not to patronize me,” said Gisèle, sounding annoyed. “I’m quite capable of telling the difference between a bird and a flying thing.”
In the sky, the Blot dove towards the Paddleboat.
“In fact, I’d say this flying thing — whatever it is— is going to attack us!” shouted Gisèle, alarmed.
The Nyctalope looked through the window in the direction she was pointing and said, astonished:
“You’re right!”
“I told you so!”
The Blot wooshed past over their heads. Outside, a small band of Diurnal farmers looked at it flying over the Paddleboat in wonder.
“It’s not just any flying thing either,” continued Leo, identifying the artifact at last. “We’ve got to get out of here fast!”
The Blot had completed its recon loop over the Paddleboat and Uunan prepared to attack. The flying artifact began to dive again.
Aboard the Paddleboat, the Nyctalope and Gisèle ran through the corridor, past other cabins, until they
found an escape hatch, which Leo opened.
“Jump! Quickly!” he told his companion.
Gisèle jumped into the water. The Blot was getting ever closer. Then, the Nyctalope jumped too.
At the end of its dive, the Blot rammed through the Polychromatic Paddleboat, creating a massive explosion, without injuring the mysterious flying thing. The flaming remains of the boat began sinking into the river.
From inside his inky shell, Uunan, looking at the devastation, gave his report:
“Mission accomplished, Great King! The Polychromatic Paddleboat is no more.”
On the riverbanks, Gisèle emerged out of the water just as Leo was pulling himself up.
“What was all that about?” asked the young woman.
The Nyctalope watched the Blot zoom away.
“It was the Blot… A tool of death and destruction… Something else stolen from the Builders, I suspect...”
“But why would anyone want to destroy such a beautiful boat?”
“They weren’t trying to destroy the boat, chérie. They were trying to destroy me.” Then, after a pause: “So much for getting to Qotwaa that way. We’ll have to travel underground now.”
“Is that all you can think about?” said Gisèle, horrified. “What about all those poor people?”
“Yes, a bit inconvenient,” said Leo, coldly.
The Nyctalope began walking away from the river and towards the hills over the horizon, followed by Gisèle.
“We’ve got to do something to help them,” she insisted.
“We have more urgent problems, Gisèle.”
“How can you be so callous? You didn’t even try to warn them.”
“I may know my way around this world, Gisèle, but even I can’t perform miracles. What could have I done? There was barely enough time for us to escape.”
“But they wouldn’t have been hurt if we hadn’t been on that boat.”
“Perhaps, but innocent bystanders always get hurt in wars. There’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“I don’t understand,” said Gisèle, at last.
“It’s like this: it would seem that some as yet unknown enemies have invaded Rhea. If they succeed in breaking into the Core, not only this world, but Earth itself will be in grave danger.”
The Return of the Nyctalope Page 24