"Within my heart, all ecstasy,Within my eyes, all visions dwell.Life—Death, I turn to rhapsody—I am the deathless Philomel."TERRA—20th Century.
"Within my heart, all ecstasy,Within my eyes, all visions dwell.Life—Death, I turn to rhapsody—I am the deathless Philomel."
"Within my heart, all ecstasy,
Within my eyes, all visions dwell.
Life—Death, I turn to rhapsody—
I am the deathless Philomel."
TERRA—20th Century.
TERRA—20th Century.
He swept the assemblage with a glance. Purposely he had stood for seconds in full view. A perfect fop—as frivolous, as dangerous as anything the Paradisiac harbored. The ultimate in elegance.
Julian stepped on the conveyor and had the illusion of being borne along on a cataract of foam to where an immaculately garbed Ganymedean bowed and led the way to a secluded platform embowered in the geometrical interlacings of frost crystals. The panel in the table's center instantly suffused with softest light as he sat down, and a note like the echo of a forgotten song rang subdued.
"Venusin ... undiluted!" Julian ordered laconically.
Mentally he enjoyed in anticipation the exhilarating power of the treacherous drink. It was precisely what a successful adventurer would have ordered there.
He waited calmly, conscious that he was the cynosure of many eyes. He knew a thousand dramas were being enacted in the sumptuous den, under the masking surface of convention and social intercourse.
The place was like a gigantic cup abrim with beauty—so much of it—in the decors, in the music, in theflesh, left him cold. A glowing core of contempt burned within him at the overwhelmingly seductive weakness it induced. Julian knew he had to be as invulnerable as berylo-plast—deaf to all the mellower dictums of the heart. He was here for one single, solitary purpose that was the all-embracing, the tremendousnow. To meet a bearer of information so secret, so profoundly vital, that its possessor had not dared even transmit it in the highly complicated secret code of theDekka. For that he had braved what he now realized was certain death. It was his task to receive it, and pass it through channels that would reach the ten Dekkan patriarchs.
Once more, as he had done when he'd paused at the top of the conveyor, Julian raised his arm and almost imperceptibly made the secret, immemorable gesture of the Dekka. He was impatient. There was no time. Disguise or no disguise, he knew that any minute now, the Paradisiac might erupt like a long-seething volcano.Why wasn't the person he was to meet here yet?Mechanically his fingers groped for the vial he had taken from Fermin, and paused startled as he felt the unmistakable outline of something hard beside the shape of the miniature vial. He drew it out slowly, palmed so that no observer could discern it from even a short distance. It was a tiny plastic disc bearing the words: SUB ROHAN SQUARE. As Julian raised the glass of Venusin to his lips, he swallowed the disc, which he knew would dissolve.He already had met the informant!The thought was almost shocking in its intensity. It could only have been the Ganymedean designer! And yet, the message in itself was disappointing. What could there be beneath Rohan Square, the central plaza before the Temple where he'd met Fermin?
Already amidst the perfect glamour, the seductive illusions of the Paradisiac, forces were gathering that no Ganymedean art could dispel, and which were far from being illusory.
Neighboring platforms had drawn increasingly near; implacable eyes, devoid of languor or of drugs, gazed with cold intensity at the frost-trellised bower and its solitary occupant. The lighting effects of the Paradisiac had changed, dimmed to an idyllic, translucent twilight, while the music sank to undulations of the B flat tonality that were magical—plucking at the emotions with unerring skill.
A draft of fragrance—the headyflorestanof Ganymede—made Julian turn his head. Up the brief stairs of his platform a woman was ascending calmly. Julian rose, a tiny frown between his eyes. He had not sent for a companion; then he remembered his brief flash of passion on the conveyor and wondered with startled dismay if these Ganymedeans went so far as to read the most intimate thoughts of their guests! But no, it could not be.
He shot a clear violet glance of keen appraisal at the girl. She was atrueMutant. Her utter refinement of features, the classical loveliness stamped with intolerable pride were beyond doubt Ganymedean, as was the hair, almost crystalline, that fell in shining waves to her shoulders. The eyes, an enchanting shade of silvered blue, were smiling with a secret amusement.
"Shall one intrude?" The ghost of a smile parted her lips as she sat down, her priceless gown sweeping the platform with the crystal sheen of water. She threw back a shawl as sheer and fantastic as the Veil of Tanit must have been, with a gesture that only a very beautiful woman can achieve.
"Enchanted," Julian answered conventionally, but entirely without warmth. He offered her a drink. Maliciously he suggestedVenusin, certain it would be refused.
The girl let her glance rove over the wondrous spectacle on the stage that had emerged from the floor in the center of the hall, and, her smile was an adventure as she replied:
"Venusin ... weaver of chimeras ... like all this," she waved an alabaster hand, "illusion ... dreams. But even our greatest dreamsbetraysus sometimes. Yes, let it be Venusin!"
Julian wondered, straining all his faculties, whether the veiled warning were a prophecy of things to come, or the ironical skating on thin ice of the enemy itself! And was aware that part of his mind kept harping on the loveliness of this cryptic stranger.What was her purpose? Had she penetrated his disguise? Was she there to make sure that under the miracle of art there was some one far more dangerous than a dissipated Martian fop?His answer came from her slender, fragile hands.They were twining and untwining like lilies bending before the wind!
"Let's dance," Julian said suddenly with an emotion he would not analyze. He rose and caught her roughly up to him. He saw her eyes go expressionless with surprise, she was stunned a little. And before she could recover, the irresistible power of Julian's arms had borne her to the greater anonymity of the dance floor in seconds. One moment the lyric quality of the atmosphere was part of them, and then the illusion was shattered as the frost-trellised bower vanished almost simultaneously with their leaving it. Lurid pencils of unleashed power impinged on the crysto-plast table charring it, while the fragile walls disappeared under the barrage. Julian saw a burly Mutant searching for him, atom-blast in hand, while beside him another Dynast, his face stamped with the excesses of Vanadol slipped into the pandemonium the dance-floor had become.
With cold ruthlessness Julian aimed his electro-beam and saw the upper part of the Mutant's torso disappear. He saw the other one near the conveyor and the "electro" flashed again. The beam went through the creature and struck the great conveyor releasing the imprisoned waters. An icy geyser of liquid shot upward, and pandemonium broke loose. All the lights went out and madness stalked the swirling humanity that desperately sought to escape. He was in a maelstrom of fighting, shrieking beings and a chaos of noise as tables and chairs crashed.
"Let me lead ... my eyes are conditioned to darkness!" Julian felt a tiny hand grasp his arm.
"So are mine ... but who...." He could see dimly a tiny, slender figure, scarcely five feet in height, completely masked. Then he remembered the slurred accents of the artist who had achieved his disguise. The Ganymedean already was scurrying toward the same direction in which Julian wanted to go, to the right of where the conveyor had been. Icy water already swirled around his ankles, and the babel of sounds had risen to a crescendo of unleashed fear, when Julian reached the plastic wall. The Ganymedean was ahead of him, and Julian saw him press a spot in the smooth barrier. A draft of icy air struck his face as an aperture appeared. He dived in.
They must have traveled miles before Julian's Ganymedean guide began to falter, then stopped. The being had silently ignored every question thus far, and twice had asked for silence. Now he turned on a tiny pencil beam and surveyed their surroundings. It was a cavern, musty and icy in temperature; great festoons of dust held together by age-old cobwebs hung from the curved ceiling.
The Ganymedean went directly to a section of the rocky wall on the left, and searched the crumbling surface minutely with the pencil-beam until he found what he sought; he made an odd twisting motion with fingers pressed to the wall, and a circular section slid inward; beyond was another tunnel ending in a seemingly blank wall.
"You will find a metal disk in the exact center of the wall," the Ganymedean explained hurriedly. "Blast it with your electro-beam. It is the mechanism of a door, the combination to which we do not possess. Be prepared todestroy instantly everything that meets your eyes—everything!" He motioned for Julian to enter the tunnel. "You will have only seconds to achieve your purpose. And remember, your life's already forfeit, so do not hesitate now!"
"But whatisbehind that door?" Julian asked, exasperated. "I have a right to know!" He laid a detaining hand on the Ganymedean's shoulder. "I must know!"
By the spectral radiance of the pencil-beam, the artist eyed Julian with a strange expression in his eyes. "As you will, Dekkan," the being shrugged his shoulders. "You will find a laboratory ... if you live to reach it. It is doubly guarded, although even the Dynasty does not suspect the existence of that door, for it is part of the remains of our own subterranean system. Beyond it ..." the Ganymedean paused, "in that laboratory is stored the blood-plasma of Mutants who have voluntarily submitted toinnoculation with a certain disease. The resulting modified virus is thePlague. It's like a vaccine magnified a thousand times—its victims do not die, they merely becomesterile!" The Ganymedean turned toward where the corridor curving to the right was lost to view. "I go that way," he said simply. "My place is here."
"But ... your message on the disc ... you mentioned Rohan Square!" Julian exclaimed. "If I survive this, how can I...."
"You are standing beneath Rohan Square, and the Temple, Dekkan!"
And that was all. Suddenly he was gone like a wraith that melted into the darkness and the silence, his footsteps muted by the velvet carpet of dust. Julian hesitated no longer.
He found the metal disc in the wall, and with the "electro" at low power destroyed the ancient mechanism of the door. As if released from the bond that for so long had held it, the great section rolled back with a crash, carrying away with it a jagged section of plastic covering from its other side. Julian had a vivid glimpse of startled, silver-haired technicians who stared unbelieving at the strange apparition. In that dazed moment of inaction, Julian acted.He was in!The lethal power of the electro-beam in his hand swept like a scythe through the group of Mutants. It was ghastly. The blasted sides of culture vats poured their viscous contents on the floor. There was a livid, billowing flare of incandescence as acids were struck. It was a welter of destruction and supernal fire that roared into the laboratory before any of the Mutants had a chance to act. The acrid smoke, the odor of disintegrated flesh was like a heavy pall. Through it, galvanized figures could be seen descending a winding staircase that led upward from the subterranean lab. The Guards!
V
Julian poured a withering barrage at the plastic staircase, and saw it disintegrate into golden, dancing motes that merged with the advancing curtain of fire. He could hear frantic commands shouted from above as power beams crossed and criss-crossed the lab. The raging maelstrom was unbearable now, and Julian retreated toward the tunnel. Almost at the doorway a ponderous section of plastic from the caving ceiling struck him on the left shoulder and fractured his collar bone. He held his left arm at the elbow to support the broken clavicle and sprinted down the tunnel to the corridor. Muffled explosions behind him fed the cataract of fire. He pushed shut the circular section of wall and followed as fast as he was able in the direction he had seen the Ganymedean disappear.
The corridor seemed endless. Even his tremendous strength was taxed. Charred, the magnificent costume in tatters, his left side a gory welter of blood, he kept on doggedly, on and on, the unnerving fear in his heart—not for his life—but that he might not be able to transmit to theDekkathe ghastly solution of their problem. He kept forcing his legs, and was amazed when a draft of pure, frigid air smote his feverish face. He found himself by the shores of Ganymede's one and only shallow sea. Above him the stars were like freshly washed diamonds; the icy harshness of the wind was like a tonic.
He saw a tiny light describe a parabola overhead, and to his mind, inconsequentially came the lines from a famous poem:
"And an errant star falls rapt and free,In the blue cup of the sea...."
"And an errant star falls rapt and free,In the blue cup of the sea...."
"And an errant star falls rapt and free,
In the blue cup of the sea...."
And then Julian realized it was no star. He followed with a vast unbelieving wonder, the tiny light winking on and off.He knew that code!Beyond he saw the tremendous looming shadows he had thought to be clouds. For an instant, Time stood still. Julian reeled with a surging wave of relief that was like pain in its intensity. Frantically he worked the wrist transmitter on his useless left arm, while waves of nausea rolled over him, receded and rolled again. He would never know how long he stood there, sending that long-repeated, incoherent message, until his mind spinning down the labyrinth of unconsciousness brought peace....
It was a universe later. The blessed peace ofVanadolhad vanished pain. Sulfalixir was cutting through the darkness in his brain like a bright sun. Julian opened his eyes and stared ... stared into a face that reminded him of tele-photos that preserved archaic illustrations of ancient Saints. It was hallowed in the bright patina of silver hair, but it was no Mutant, a virile aura of power shone in those intensely blue eyes.
The "Saint" smiled; the fact was illumined as if with an inner light. "Peace, Varon! There's no need to speak for we have the information. You gave it to us—piece-meal—I must say." He smiled with kindly humor. "But you gave it. We have synchronized and correlated what you told us in the transmitter before you went to the Paradisiac, and your later message from the shore."
"That voice ... that voice!" The thought blotted out all else in Julian's mind. It could not be, it was incredible, and yet, no one else in his experience had just that tonal quality ... those ironic overtones....
"You probably wondered," the "Saint" was speaking again, "when you saw our signal, how the Dekkan fleet could be above Ganymede unchallenged. Look!" He activated a telesolidograph standing by the side of Julian's bed.
"Every inhabited Moon has its fleet here tonight, my son. When we flashed them the news you gave us of the laboratory where thePlaguegerms were kept, and of the incredible plan of the Dynasts—the Mutants, they came on at full power. Enough to blast Ganymede out of its orbit! The plan was the most fiendish, the most ingenious weapon of war ever conceived! You must have guessed it of course ... for fifty years they infected our people in slowly increasing numbers, until at last they let loose the Plague."
"Narda ...." Julian began as memory agonizingly came back.
"That is the name you kept repeating with every other word in your delirium," the stranger smiled. "A Techno-Star, as we found out. She of course, will be one of the very first to be given the antidote, Varon."
"Antidote...." Julian's voice was opaque with wonder, it was as if his heart had lurched in his chest.
"You brought it," the silver-haired stranger replied. "In thePanagranvial you took from the Arch-Mutant. Our scientists are already reproducing it. It acts both as an immunizer and an antidote. The Mutants had to develop it as a safeguard for the native Ganymedeans. It was the only way they could be assured of even their reluctant loyalty. And the Mutants didn't dare war against the Ganymedeans—they still possess ancient weapons that the Dynasty could not cope with. I wish we could obtain some of them," he sighed wistfully. "What a strangely stubborn race...."
But Julian was scarcely listening, an upsurging volcano of hope had set his whole being afire with the immortal, singing flame. Narda ... himself!... He closed his eyes against the tremendous psychic strain.
"Once more open war has been averted by a hair's breadth—I'm a little bit sorry, in a way,Serenity."
Julian opened his eyes startled. "Serenity? You mean 'Control-Facet.' YouareAstran, aren't you?"
"Of course, my son!Don't try to tell me what I mean!" He smiled with feral delight, then: "We're going to bomb the temple to its foundations—a mere token, of course. I shall have you carried to the observation tower.... It will be a welcome sight. Will you do us the honor of directing the routine,Serenity?"