"That's correct," I replied. "We regret exceedingly the passing of His Exaltedness—"
"We are certain you do," Pytho said. His eyes gave me a shiver, I don't mind admitting!
He picked at his teeth, then belched. Wine fumes clouded round my head. He was so deep in his cups, he wasn't even startled by the appearance of Mrf Qqt.
He resumed, "We were totally unprepared for the honor which the late Geriasticus placed on our shoulders. In fact, we urged him to grant rule to his consort. But concerned for the health of her person, especially under the constant pressures of statecraft, he deemed her too precious to bear the burden—"
How smoothly the rascal dissembled! Aphrodisia snorted at the last remark, but Pytho was too intoxicated to notice.
"Thus the palm passed to us, just as our monarch succumbed to the last wracking phases of flux. Alas, there was not even time to summon a physician." He wiped a crocodile tear from his eye.
Then he clapped his hands for wine. The serving boy, cold sober, swooned at the sight of His Subservience. Three more had to be summoned, before one was found with stamina to perform the requested task.
I found Pytho's wine-soaked state not a bit unusual. He was merry, and well he might be! None would ever know what had really transpired in the king's last hour. Flux? Never. More like the dirk, the cup—or a pillow jammed over the old ruler's breathing orifices. Of that I grew more and more certain.
However, I had other matters in hand.
"Your Exaltedness, your humble servant hopes you'll permit bygones to be bygones—"
"It's possible," he returned, with a cryptic stare.
"Might I ask—did you perchance confer with Geriasticus over the matter of the Zorophim?"
"Those blue things, you mean? Yes, he reported some of it to us. But refresh our memory, Hoptor."
At once I did so. I painted a glowing portrait of the Zorophim, outlined the advantages of a peaceful meeting between heads of state, touched upon the matter of the Sacred Fuel, and concluded with some telling suggestions about ways and means to use the meeting to quiet the disorderly populace. At the close, I pressed into his hands the small tablet, writ by Geriasticus. All in all, a flawless performance!
"You say these Zorophim wish to acquaint themselves with the scientific lore of our Island Kingdom?" Pytho asked between swills of wine.
"That is our entire purpose," confirmed His Subservience. "We come in peace, seeking wellsprings of the Sacred Fuel, as our Official Liaison Officer mentioned."
"Then we'll be delighted to cooperate! As Hoptor has suggested, your arrival will have a salutary effect upon the masses. Bid your rulers land. Have them bring their miraculous craft down right in the main courtyard. We deem it wisest for only one craft to land at first, in order that the public can get accustomed to the idea. Invite the rest to descend tomorrow. Naturally we guarantee the safety of all aboard."
Mrf Qqt bowed in stately fashion. "That is good news indeed. It shall be communicated to the almighty ones at once."
So saying, he touched blue fingers to the silver disc. I leaped forward to forestall the communication.
"One moment, one moment please! There remain a few trifling minor matters—the reward on my unfortunate head, for one. I'm the Official Liaison Officer now. So I beseech the king to usher in a new era of justice by pardoning one and all in my party. In return for this magnanimous gesture"— (I nearly choked on the noxious syllables. Expediency is expediency, however!) —"we pledge loyalty to the house of Pytho I."
His brutish fingers touched the imperial circlet.
"Yesterday, we would have refused. Today—well, it's as they say. The office of king changes a man. Grants him new perspectives and attitudes in a twinkling. You are all pardoned in full. Now please make haste to invite the almighty ones to descend. We are most anxious to learn how they propel their sky-craft. Yes indeed, we certainly are!"
Overjoyed that I had pulled it off, I never paused to wonder at the rapidity of Pytho's conversion. Puffed up with my success, I permitted Mrf Qqt to touch the silver disc.
Evidently he communicated with his rulers by a sort of silent wiggling of his jaws. He soon informed us that the Zorophimian monarchs would descend to the courtyard that very day.
Before nightfall, an imperial tympani corps boomed the welcome. Whole regiments of troops had been turned out. The luminescent vessel came glittering downward in the rain.
Government employees were stationed everywhere, including the rooftops. They had been given the rest of the day off, and instructed to wave bandananas, throw flowers, and cheer lustily. My friends and I occupied a post of honor near the ceremonial carpet upon which Pytho I would receive his guests.
The craft settled on its tripod legs. The hatchway opened. The incline dropped down.
Then the familiar figures of His Splendor and Her Radiance appeared, to the gasps and applause of the multitude.
The royal pair descended the incline, then advanced to the carpet over which a canopy was being held.
Resplendent in his robes of state, Pytho I marched forward with a dozen armed guards. A wide grin split his battered face.
"O miraculous moment!" Babylos whispered at my elbow. "The old order changeth—"
So I thought too, in that last fleeting moment of innocence.
His Exaltedness Pytho I bowed to the smiling blue monarchs. Smile locked in place, he came upright. He remarked through clenched teeth:
"All right, boys, grab them!"
Whereupon, with weapons bared, his bodyguard leaped forward to surround the Zorophim!
* Thirteen *
While I gasped in horror, the armored plug-uglies menaced Zorop's rule with broadswords and spears. Smug satisfaction caused Pytho's scars to purple, a colorful effect I knew all too well.
At my side, His Subservience Mrf Qqt whispered:
"Is this some ploy of yours, Vintner? Some trick designed to gain you an advantage—?"
"Believe me, I hadn't the slightest inkling—! You heard me receive the king's personal guarantees—!"
Conax growled, "As an adviser on statecraft, baboon-belly, you're as effective as a cake of ice in hell."
"Very well, turn on me! I only did my best, that's all! I only tried, that's all! Curse me, scourge me—how was I to know that we couldn't trust him?"
But of course, on reflection, I knew I should have been more wary. If I maneuvered events in my favor, why not Pytho, who had a record far more reprehensible than mine?
Conax's thews began to quiver fitfully, indicating that he might unleash his temper at any moment. Then he seemed to think better of it. Good thing, too; even the fighting fury of a full roused barbarian couldn't have coped with the companies of armed men in the courtyard.
His Exaltedness, Pytho I, had grown aware of our buzzing. He turned to glare at us, just as Mrf Qqt reached for the disc on his forehead.
"I shall summon the fleet," he confided. "Perhaps we Zorophim may not survive the day. But before we wing to the Eternal Bonko"—at least I believe that was his term!—"we'll be avenged. We are slow to provoke, but once we are—"
"Hold, hold. Your Subservience! Don't you see we're completely surrounded? Call down your ships now and you invite instant death for your monarchs!"
He hesitated, his blue fingers quite near the disc. Out beneath the canopy, His Splendor and Her Radiance flexed their digits frantically—as if this friendly gesture could make all the surrounding swords disappear!
In the hatchway of their craft, other Zorophim could be seen, conversing with obvious alarm. They too recognized the threat of the sword-ring, and did no more than whisper among themselves.
"Surely," I heard His Splendor address Pytho, "surely there has been some error of protocol—?"
"We doubt that," Pytho sneered.
"But you personally guaranteed a friendly welcome!"
"So we lied." Pytho shrugged. "It served our purposes. Don't tell me you've never done the same in your empire! Too bad you'l
l never return to wherever that is!"
Then he fixed me with a baleful eye.
"As for your so-called Liaison Officer, you were ill-advised to listen to him. He has long been at the top of our list of undesirables. About the only liaison he can arrange is between a nobleman and one of his wenches. He's an inept schemer—far more stupid than we originally believed! Trust our promises? How foolish! As to your disposition, excellencies, you shall be conducted to apartments in the palace. There, our number one torturer will interrogate you."
Then, with a broad gesture: "Bring chains! And secure their vessel until we discover its motive power!"
Soldiers rushed forward bearing manacles and leg irons. His Splendor and Her Radiance were unceremoniously shackled, even as another platoon invaded their shining craft. Shortly, every last blue being was turned out into the open. Each was restrained by one or more chains.
In a sad procession led by His Splendor and Her Radiance, the Zorophim were escorted from the yard.
Pytho I remained behind, leering with glee. I discovered the reason for his delay when the Zorophim had all but clanked out of sight.
Pytho glanced at the sky. It had begun to darken again. He signed me forward.
"Who, me?" Inexplicably, my feet bore me backward. "The king can't wish to speak to lowly m—yow!"
A sword in my backside shot me forward. I had trouble abasing myself properly, due to a sudden onslaught of palsy.
"Stand up, you swollen son of the sewers!" His Exaltedness cried, seizing my hair. I was on my feet instantly, I'll tell you!
I observed Pytho darting glances at the crowds still assembled. Then he said:
"We feel we owe you a certain debt, Vintner. You have delivered a prize into our hands."
"Unwillingly and unwittingly!" I said. Of course I regretted my remark at once. He cuffed me, and shrieked for silence.
Then, regaining his control, he said, "No doubt you're wondering about the purpose of the seizure you just witnessed."
"I suppose you plan to make the Zorophim the feature attraction at some terrible court orgy of cruel depravity—"
"Don't you give us credit for greater wit than that? We intend to relieve them of their various secrets. What propels yon magical craft, for instance? By what arcane principles is it levitated above the rooftops? Once we possess this marvelous information, we shall dispose of the blue creatures. But not before. For fat and foolish as you are, Vintner, your brain still contains a kernel of perception. Currently we hold the throne by force. The populace is restless, affrighted. Firmly in control of the scientific secrets of Zorop—and sharing those secrets with none!—we can easily convince the rabble that we possess divine power. They'll think twice about open rebellion. Fear is a powerful deterrent. Superstitious fear twice so. Perhaps, to exploit that fact to full advantage, we'll even have ourselves elevated to godhood. So you see—you have been helpful to our cause after all! As a token of our appreciation, we intend to grant you a boon."
"You intend to spare my friends and me? Oh, thank you, Your Exaltedness—"
"Spare you? Naturally not! Our boon is this. Rather than a lingering death, lasting for days and including excruciating agonies, you shall, by our grace, be dispatched promptly, with as little mess and bother as possible. A splendid gift, is it not, Hoptor?"
As he tittered in cruel mockery, I realized I'd been gulled once again!
Pytho treated me to a merry wave. "Good-bye, now, and good luck to you. Give our regards to Hades—or wherever it is you go! By the way—you haven't seen Captain Num, have you? That little tease has quite disappeared."
Unable to speak, I shook my head.
With a shrug, Pytho remarked, "No matter. He's rather beneath us, now that we have our new status." And he stumped off toward the palace, surrounded by three dozen armored thugs.
I stood miserably beneath the canopy, which was beginning to sway in the stiff wind. I glanced at the shining vessel, now guarded by several soldiers. Throughout the courtyard, the crowds were dispersing. But my unhappy companions still waited, along with yet another military detachment.
"You've good news?" Aphrodisia asked as I approached.
"The king's spared us, isn't that right, Hoptor?"
"Uh, well, not exactly—"
I was spared the necessity of further explanation by a sudden surge of the soldiers around us. Their callous expressions and coarse jests made our fate instantly apparent.
With a bellow, Conax began to struggle, managing to snap a few wrists and blacken a few eyes before he was borne to the ground. Thus unmanned, he was shackled round the ankles and dragged over the stones in the wake of our group.
Aphrodisia lost no chance to heap abuse on my head.
"Oh, Hoptor, you've failed again! How I regret that I ever allowed you to lure me into the vintage trade! Of course I lost my heart to you because of your glib tongue and seemingly superior education. Who was I, a mere schoolgirl with an attractive body, to see that honeyed phrases often prove powerless? If we're to be sentenced to death once more, the very least you can do is let me die as a fulfilled female. Five minutes with a priest and we can face the funeral pyre as husband and wife—"
"Yes, yes, naturally," I said, my mind being elsewhere; namely, upon the problem of how we could save ourselves this time. Of course I was once again held responsible for our plight—as if I could outsmart every last blackguard in Atlantis! The others looked to me for leadership, and I was wracking my brain for a scheme. Thus I agreed with Aphrodisia, while hardly hearing her.
"Hoptor! Do you truly mean it this time?*'
"What? Oh, of course. As soon as we devise a means of escape—"
"Not another delay, surely—!"
"Come, Aphrodisia, which do you prefer? Being a living fugitive or a wedded corpse?"
"Considering the trials you've put me through lately, the latter has much to recommend it. You realize you have now promised—"
"And I'll honor that vow the instant we're free, if you'll just be silent and permit me to think!"
In truth, I was beginning to see the glimmers of a plan. Not much of one, I must admit privately! But the best I could concoct on the spur of the moment.
I mulled it furiously as we were led back to the prison building, descending to the very dungeon cell we had occupied before. One of the guards—a large-headed lout with a walleye—gave Aphrodisia a lascivious look as old Menos greeted us.
Naturally Menos expressed his regrets. Then he carefully pointed out that he could again be of no help. This time also, the death order had been issued by the supreme ruler.
"But do you know how much time we've got?" I inquired as he clanked the door shut.
Locking it, he tossed the key to Walleye. "No scroll has arrived as yet. But I'm anticipating the issuance of the document momentarily. I expect it will call for execution before sunrise."
"What, execute one of your oldest, dearest friends? The one who spared you humiliation in the matter of the birthmark—?"
"Don't start that again, Hoptor! I tell you there's nothing I can do! Naturally I couldn't bring myself to lop off your head personally. I shall let that sad duty fall to Cloddus."
He indicated Walleye, who continued to lounge nearby, letting his hot, if skewed, eyeballs, rove up and down Aphrodisia's frame. She noticed the unwelcome attention.
"How dare you strip me with your eyes, you cur? I'm practically a married woman!"
I let that one pass.
In the grimy reaches of the cell, Conax was busily gnashing his teeth, having recovered from being dragged across the stones. Babylos seemed to have sunk into a daze. He squatted in a corner, prattling more of his warnings of destruction. I certainly wished I had his detachment! I no longer gave one olive seed for the welfare of fair Atlantis. Not with my own to concern me!
Menos seemed reluctant to leave us.
"You must understand, Hoptor old fellow, I wouldn't even want to know about your execution, had I others to stand in for me.
But I've been stripped of all my prison manpower. Except for Cloddus yonder, of course. Poor fellow, he was left behind because he always casts a spear at the oblique. That sad condition of his eyes, you understand—"
Cloddus' eyes didn't seem in all that bad shape! Both were still busily engaged examining Aphrodisia's physical charms. But the remark of Menos piqued my interest in another way. I drew him aside in order to whisper:
"What is the reason for this reduction of prison manpower?"
"Riots, of course. They're breaking out almost hourly. In every quarter! I believe old Babylos, as well as the lesser prophets of doom, have done their work thoroughly. Torrential rains are falling again, and the populace is convinced that Atlantis is accursed. It takes a huge number of troops to quell all the outbreaks—"
I digested this information quickly, as it might well aid my skimpy plan. But I would need to move fast. Pytho would waste no time extracting the secrets of the Zorophim. Having discovered how to levitate their craft, for instance, he would probably whiz it up for a flight—and spread the word that he was at the controls!
Once the public believed he was privy to such powers, they'd heel soon enough. We had to act before it happened.
"Well, Menos"—a contrived yawn—"that's interesting, certainly. But it hardly affects me any longer. I believe I shall lie down and take a nap."
"Sleep only hours before your life is snuffed out? How can you, Hoptor?"
"To a man at peace with himself," I lied, "death is not the least fearful. Good evening."
That I was able to utter such a ridiculous statement proves my desperation just then! Had Menos happened to glance down at my knees, he would have known my deception.
Instead, he merely sighed sadly. As he departed, he told me:
"Right after I have my supper, I'll see whether the execution order's come down."
But I was already at work hustling Aphrodisia into a corner, signaling both Conax and Mrf Qqt to follow. Old Babylos I left to himself, rambling of the coming apocalypse.