The Torian Pearls Part 5

He might have done better to ride back by himself in the night, secretly, risking the bat-birds and reptiles and anything else that might be tempted to attack a lone rider. He would far rather risk his own neck ten times over than risk a panic among the Kargoi that could leave them helpless in the face of their enemies.

Blade was able to get some use out of his unwanted escort by making the warriors help him butcher the dead reptiles. At first the warriors drew back at the idea of cutting up two thousand tons of rapidly-decaying corpses in the hot sun. The smell alone already lay across the sh.o.r.e like a fog.

Blade ignored their protests and hesitations. He and Paor and Naula and a few other willing spirits stripped off their clothes, drew their swords, and went to work. After a little further hesitation, the rest of the warriors joined in, except the few on guard duty. They could not refuse to follow the lead of the hero Blade, or refuse to go where even Blade's woman went.

The work was every bit as gruesome as Blade expected. He was glad he hadn't eaten any breakfast. Most of the warriors didn't have stomachs as strong as his. Blade felt sorry for them, but he wasn't too unhappy to see them dropping out one by one. There were plenty of hands left to do the necessary work, and fewer eyes to watch him.

It was soon clear that the reptiles could be put to all sorts of uses. Their scaly hides made excellent body armor, s.h.i.+elds, and helmets-heavy, smelly, and hot, but tougher than boiled leather and almost as tough as mail. Their bones came in all shapes and sizes, from tiny ones that could be carved into b.u.t.tons, through larger ones that would make good axe handles, to the ribs that were as tall as a man and would make good roofbeams for fair-sized huts if the Kargoi ever had a chance to build any.

The claws and teeth would make excellent arrowheads and speartips-not as hard as metal, but more easily replaced and hard enough to deal with most human opponents. The internal organs were too far gone in decay to be much use. Taken from a freshly-killed beast, on the other hand, thoroughly cleaned, and cured in the sun, they would make large, st.u.r.dy bags and bottles.

Blade hacked and slashed, pried and pulled, splattering himself from head to foot with blood and filth until he looked like something found on the floor of a hutcher's shop. Even if the other men had been watching him every minute, they wouldn't have seen anything suspicious. He carved his way deeper and deeper into the decaying bodies without finding anything that shouldn't have been there in a normal beast.

At last Blade asked everyone to stand back and leave him alone for a short time. It was the custom among the English, he said, to offer the brain of a slain animal as a sacrifice to the Earth Wisdom. It was improper for anyone but a warrior of England to witness the sacrifice.

The few warriors still on their feet were more than happy to leave him alone, out of respect for his customs and out of a great desire to get away from the acres of reeking carrion. No curious eyes were around when Blade went to work on the skull of the most intact of the reptiles. That was the most likely place left to find some trace of whatever intelligence might lie behind the beasts' attacks.

Blade closely examined the hide stretched over the huge skull. Any scar, any unnatural bulge might give him a clue. He looked until his eyes were watering and his fingers raw from prodding the scaly hide. All he could find was one strip about a foot long and a couple of inches wide, where the hide seemed a little smoother than elsewhere. It could be the scar of an operation to implant something in or near the brain. It could also be a scar left by a battle against another reptile or by running into a submerged boulder!

Blade began cutting, slowly and methodically, keeping well clear of the scar. He cut through the hide and into the skull, then began working his way around the scar. At last a circle of hide about a foot in diameter was loose. Blade gripped it by one side and thrust his sword gently in under it, to pry it free.

As he thrust, the point of his sword struck something solid. Blade poked gently and heard a sound that could only have been made by his sword striking metal or plastic. He drew his sword out, put it down, and began carefully stripping the hide off by hand.

At last a b.l.o.o.d.y circle of skull lay exposed. A little to one side of the center was a disk of translucent gla.s.s or plastic, about six inches in diameter. Several wires crisscrossed the surface. Blade could make out the faint patterns of what was unmistakably advanced microcircuitry.

There it was--complete and undeniable evidence that someone was implanting something, probably a control device, in the brains of the sea reptiles.

Who? The device itself gave no real clues. Microcircuitry obeyed certain basic laws that were the same for any people or race. All that was implied was a certain level of technology-and the existence somewhere in this Dimension of somebody with that level of technology.

That meant the Kargoi and anybody else who managed to survive the rising waters were in more danger than they could know. No matter how much Blade taught them, they could still be doomed.

Blade swore, first mentally, then out loud. He didn't feel helpless-he never did-but for once he did feel that the opposition might be a trifle overpowering!

He put the flap of hide back in place, stood up, and signaled to the others to gather around him. They came slowly, Paor leading them.

Blade laid his sword across the beast's skull and spoke loudly.

"The brains of these creatures are not fit for sacrifice. They have been attacked by an evil growth, that makes them mad."

Paor nodded. "So that is why they were attacking us?"

"Yes "

It was not the best possible lie, but it should last until the Kargoi were ready to learn the truth-if that time ever came.

Chapter 13.

With all the other men who'd worked beside him, Blade went down to the sea to scrub off the blood and filth. Then Blade rode up to where the smashed wagons lay. He began picking up boards and tying them on the back of his drend.

Paor followed him. "What are you doing, Blade?"

"I'm going to build a raft. Do you want to help me?"

"I suppose I can. Why do you want to build it?"

"I want to go out on the water farther than I can swim and see how these beasts live there."

Paor's mouth opened and he stood speechless for a moment. "Blade, they will come and smash the raft. Then they will gulp you down in a mouthful!"

"Perhaps. But I do not know that. I do not know many things about these creatures, and I need to know them. The Kargoi need to know them too."

"You cannot do this any other way?"

"Not without sending someone else into danger that I will not face myself. Would you have me do that?"

Paor was silent again. He could recognize a man who'd made up his mind to the point where there was no arguing with him.

With the help of half a dozen warriors, the raft quickly took shape. It was about ten feet by six feet, just able to keep Blade afloat and dry. It would never support a sail, so Blade carved one of the reptile ribs into a combination pole and paddle.

The warriors watched grim-faced from the sh.o.r.e as he set out, and Naula was weeping openly. No doubt his voyage seemed as mad to them as that of Columbus had to his Spanish friends. Blade was not going nearly as far-in fact, he was barely going out of their sight. But he was in just as much danger, if not more.

Blade had to push and pull the raft some distance before it would float with his weight on it. Then he scrambled aboard and began paddling steadily. Behind him the figures of the watchers on sh.o.r.e grew slowly but surely smaller.

Blade headed straight away from land. Every few minutes he took soundings with an improvised lead line, a rock tied to a length of rope. He was pleased to find the water getting steadily deeper.

Out in deep water he would be no more vulnerable to the reptiles then he would be in the shallows. They could come at him in either place. He would have a better chance of catching a glimpse of the beasts' masters. Those masters would probably keep their distance from sh.o.r.e, even if they swam in the water along with their pets. If they used something like a submarine to control the reptiles' attacks, they would probably have to stay in deep water.

What they would do to somebody who came out seeking them in deep water was another matter, one not at all pleasant to think about. Again Blade had a painful sensation of going up against outrageously long odds. He would have felt a little better with a rocket launcher, or even a single hand grenade!

Blade kept paddling until the lead showed eighty feet of water under the raft and a bottom that might have once been a forest. He untangled the half-decayed, weed-grown branch the line brought up and threw it over the side. Then he put up his paddle and squatted in the middle of the raft, waiting and trying to look in all directions at once across the water.

Slowly the sunset colors blazed in the sky, then faded into darkness. Somewhere beyond the horizon a storm was raging across water and land and the endlessly changing frontier between the two. Blade saw dim, noiseless flashes low down in the dark sky and felt the raft rise and fall on a gentle swell, all that was left of the distant waves. It was a warm night, and so quiet that when Blade dipped a hand over the side of the raft and held it up, the falling drops sounded almost loud.

Clouds came and went across the face of the moon at irregular intervals. When the moon shone clear there was enough light to see clearly. On Blade's left an isolated hill rose clear of the water. An almost intact stone building was perched halfway up the side facing him. To his right lay a wide stretch of swamp where a large flat hilltop lay just below the surface of the water. Between the two was a wide stretch of empty water, suggesting a valley that was now a deep channel. Certainly that would be a logical route for the sea reptiles and their masters, if the masters were logical-if the masters existed at all.

Alone on the water, Blade found it hard to know exactly what to believe. It seemed possible that he was on a wildgoose chase. It seemed just as possible that some malignant intelligence was even now watching him from under the water, getting ready to strike.

On the sh.o.r.e orange glows told Blade that the watchers had lit fires. If those fires helped keep the watchers happy, so much the better. Blade began a slow, regular scan of a complete circle around him.

He didn't know how long it took him to scan that circle twelve times. He did know that on the thirteenth time, he spotted a faint light just above the water's edge on the hill with the stone building. It was so faint that he would never have seen it from the sh.o.r.e, or even from three hundred yards farther away. The light did not flicker, and it was a pale blue-white that Blade had never seen in any campfire in any Dimension. Perhaps a pocket of volcanic gas had ignited and was venting itself into the air?

Then the light began to come and go, not wavering but going on and off in what Blade quickly saw was a regular pattern. Two long-one short-two long. Then five longs in rapid succession, then a repet.i.tion of the first five. Over and over again, eight times. The blue-white light was artificial, and someone was signaling with it. Who would answer?

Blade began paddling the raft slowly toward the hill. Whoever built the microcircuitry he'd found in the reptile's head could undoubtedly build underwater detection devices able to pick up two shrimps mating five miles away, and radar able to pick up a mouse two miles off. They might not have either one on the hill. In that case he might be able to sneak up on the hill where the light shone and go hunting for the answers to a good many of his questions.

The hill was only a mile away, but it seemed to take hours before it started growing visibly larger. Not a breath of air moved to either slow Blade's progress or conceal the small sounds he could not help making as he paddled the raft steadily toward his goal.

He'd covered about half the distance when the light began signaling again. This time it went through the complete sequence four times. Now Blade could see that the light shone from among low, spreading trees that straggled along the water's edge. The remnants of an orchard, perhaps. Blade started bearing to the left. He wanted to come in on the opposite side of the hill from the light and sneak across the slope under cover of the trees.

The hill grew steadily larger in the darkness, and so did the light on it. On the sh.o.r.e the fires burned higher and higher, undisturbed. Whatever the signal light was doing, it hadn't yet called an attack by the sea reptiles on the watchers along the sh.o.r.e.

At last Blade could see that he was no more than a hundred yards from dry land. He was tempted to slip off the raft and swim the rest of the way in, to make a smaller target. But he couldn't be sure of safely anchoring the raft, or of finding it again in the darkness. He paddled in until the raft gently sc.r.a.ped over the top of a submerged tree and b.u.mped solid ground. Blade leaped ash.o.r.e, agile as a cat and even quieter, and tied the lead line around a stump.

If the signal light was manned, whoever was manning it hadn't detected him, didn't care about him, or was waiting for the right time to strike. There was no point in trying to guess which. Blade made sure that his bowstring was dry and that both swords moved freely in their scabbards. Then he began his slow stalk through the trees toward the blue-white light.

Around him the night was silent and dark except for the signal light ahead, the orange fire glow on the distant land, and the moon when the clouds let it s.h.i.+ne. From time to time the trees cut off Blade's view of the signal fight, but they never entirely cut off his view of the water.

Suddenly the clouds opened wider than ever, as though a veil had been jerked away. The moon blazed down until it laid a silver trail across the water.

As if the moonlight had called it out of the depths, something black and glistening rose from the water into the silver path. For a moment Blade thought it was one of the great reptiles coming to the surface. Then he recognized the conning tower of a small submarine, and the foamy wake it left behind as it ran in toward the island. Half a dozen cylindrical objects seemed to be tied to the submarine's hull, giving it a hump-backed appearance.

Blade had to watch the submarine for only a minute to know that it was heading straight toward the signal light. He moved on again, more slowly and carefully than before. He didn't know what to expect-armed sentries, detectors, b.o.o.by traps, land mines, or what. He was sure that whoever had set up the signal station and was now coming to inspect it must have provided it with some defenses.

If there were any, Blade pa.s.sed through them as if he'd been an insect or a ghost. He came out on a ledge of rock uphill from the signal light, just as the submarine stopped about fifty feet offsh.o.r.e. In the glow from the light he could clearly make out who was operating it and who was swimming ash.o.r.e from the submarine. He watched them and froze, barely breathing.

The signalers and the swimmers were not human. They stood eight or nine feet tall, and they looked like nothing so much as giant stalks of asparagus with four double-jointed arms ending in lobster-like claws. Instead of feet, they moved on a ma.s.sive rippling suction disk at the base of the "stalk." The ones swimming in from the submarine were encased from head to foot in flexible, transparent cylinders that left the arms and claws free for swimming. Blade could see air tanks and sacks of gear slung from a belt around each cylinder.

These beings were not human, but Blade had seen them before. Many trips to Dimension X in the past, he'd met them in a Dimension where they helped send out Ice Dragons to prey on the human inhabitants of a glacier-stricken world. The Ice Dragons had a human Ice Master, but ultimately they were the creation and the weapon of the advanced science of the Menel.

Yet the Menel were not creatures of any Earth or any Dimension. They came from deep s.p.a.ce, across the great gulfs between the stars. From their distant, unknown home they had come to this world, in this Dimension. They had come and now they were settling down to do what?

Blade didn't know. All he had was a magnificent opportunity to find out and perhaps prevent it, if it was dangerous and he lived long enough. If he hadn't been so close to the Menel and still half stunned with surprise, Blade would have laughed out loud.

Now he probably had the answer to his first question-who was controlling the sea creatures? In finding the answer to that question, though, he'd raised at least fifty more!

Chapter 14.

For the moment there was nothing to do but hide and watch the Menel at work for as long as he could. Somehow they hadn't detected his presence, which was distinctly odd. The great stronghold of the Menel under the polar ice of the Dimension of the Ice Dragons had been an incredible display of advanced technology in a dozen fields.

If the Menel had wanted to guard their signal station and rendezvous, they could easily have done so. They could have made it impossible for anyone as poorly equipped as Blade to approach it. That he was here within fifty feet of the Menel, alive and undetected, suggested that the Menel hadn't thought to guard the area at all.

Why? They might despise the inhabitants of this Dimension as hopelessly primitive. So primitive, in fact, that there could be no danger of an attack from them. In that case the Menel might be in for a rude surprise before this night was over.

Or perhaps they didn't have the necessary equipment. Certainly the eight Menel now in sight seemed to have plenty of gear of one sort or another. Blade saw tools adapted to their claws, stacks of gleaming plastic disks, two unmistakable lasers, an array of boxes and tubes that might hold anything. The two signalers had the light and a large metal box with a control panel on one side and wires leading from the other side down into the water. There was nothing that looked like a weapon or a detection device in sight, except possibly the lasers. Even they looked like drills or more signaling devices rather than weapons.

In spite of their lack of alertness, Blade knew that he was really too close to the Menel for safety. They might not be expecting visitors, but he knew they had better night vision than human beings. He didn't know what their hearing was like. Under those circ.u.mstances, it might be as dangerous to move back as to stay put.

His present position also had one advantage. He was close enough to the Menel so that he could charge in among them in a matter of seconds. They were slow moving on their disks, although the four claw-equipped arms could strike fast and far. If he could get in among them quickly enough, Blade was fairly sure he could do as much damage as might be needed. Possibly he wouldn't get out alive, but almost certainly he would take most of the Menel with him.

If he got in among them. Blade wasn't going to lift a finger against the Menel until he knew what they were doing. From his experience with them in the Dimension of the Ice Dragons, he doubted they were harmless or friendly here. But harmless or not, they were intelligent beings from another world. The first time he fought them, he'd refused to kill a helpless Menel and actually given first aid to a wounded one. He'd follow the same policy here.

Blade didn't know if anything more would come of this second meeting with the Menel than had come of the first one. He didn't know how often the Menel's travels among the stars (and perhaps among the Dimensions?) might bring them into contact with human beings. He did know that he would do everything he could to make the Menel realize that human beings did not kill them on sight. If that idea could sink into the brains that lay somewhere in those mammoth asparagus stalks, it might open a new direction for the history of both races.

It seemed like an hour but it must have been only a few minutes more before the Menel started their night's work. One of the two signalers at the control panel started twisting switches and pulling levers. The box began to hum quietly to itself, like a distant hive of sleepy bees. Triangular patches that might be dials or indicators began to glow faintly, purple, gold, and green.

Three of the other six Menel opened one of the boxes and pulled out dark plastic tubes. They looked like hypodermic syringes or sprays, but they were four feet long and as thick as a man's arm. All six of the Menel not busy at the control panel began putting on their diving gear again.

This time it was nearly an hour before anything else happened. Then suddenly the night's stillness was ripped apart. The hissing roars of a number of the great reptiles sounded close at hand. Blade looked out to sea, in time to watch the fanged heads and dark humped backs rise into view.

Then Blade saw them begin to swim toward him and the Menel. He could count nine of them, and he had the distinct impression that six of them were herding the other three toward the sh.o.r.e, like dogs herding sheep.

As the reptiles approached land five of the six Menel divers slipped into the water. They were carrying one of the lasers, the syringes, and several other pieces of equipment whose use Blade couldn't guess.

The Menel swam out toward the approaching reptiles. They were not particularly graceful in the water, but with three of their four arms beating steadily they moved surprisingly fast. Blade found himself forced to respect the courage of the five swimmers. It seemed likely that some of the approaching beasts were under control by the two signalers. That didn't mean it was safe to swim up to those jaws that could bite a Menel in half as easily as a man.

The last of the Menel reached into one of the opened boxes and drew out what Blade recognized as a weapon. He'd seen the Menel carrying them in the land of the Ice Dragons, when they came up from their underground base to put down a rebellion among their human guards and servants. The weapon was a six-foot black tube with a red lens set in one end. The Menel held it crosswise with two arms, rather like a man holding a submachine gun.

Now the nine reptiles were nearly in shallow water. Four of the six herders surrounded two of the others, hissing and b.u.t.ting them in the side to drive them away from the Menel swimmers and from the submarine. The other two herders pushed the last reptile in toward the Menel, who went splas.h.i.+ng out to meet it.

The arms of the two signalers now moved furiously as they sent out increasingly complex signals to the beasts they were controlling. In the darkness they looked like grotesque idols in some Oriental temple, come to life and performing some impossible and inhuman dance. Their attention seemed completely fixed on the sea and their five comrades. The same was true of the armed Menel, who seemed to be in charge of whatever was going on here.

The five swimmers surrounded the "wild" reptile. A shot of anaesthetic left it semiconscious. One of them clamped a disk to the top of its skull. Another pressed the laser against the scaly hide and activated it. A brief red glow, and hide and skull parted.

A third Menel raised one of the electronic brain implants. Another few seconds' work with the laser, and the implant settled into place. From another of the tubes shot a fine mist of what was probably an antiseptic. Then the skull and hide were closed and the whole incision sealed with another brief burst of the laser. The last step in the operation was an injection to counteract the anaesthetic. The reptile shook its head, hissed faintly, then permitted the two herders to drive it into deeper water.

Blade crouched in the darkness, realizing that he'd just seen a breathtaking display of advanced technology and skilled surgery. He also realized that the Menel would have to be treated as enemies. They were using their knowledge to implant in the sea reptiles-and no doubt the bat-birds-the control devices that made it possible to drive them against the Kargoi. Exactly why they were doing this Blade didn't know, but he did know one thing-tonight's operations should be stopped. He would be as careful as he could be to avoid killing any of the Menel. He would be just as careful to leave not one bit of their equipment intact or one of their implanted monsters alive.

There was only one weapon in sight, the tube held by the Menel commander. If he could disable or capture it, that should be a good enough start. After that he couldn't plan in too much detail. He didn't know his enemy that well.

Blade waited as two more of the herders drove one of the wild reptiles toward the waiting surgical team. He waited long enough after that for the operation to begin, and draw the attention of all the Menel.

Then he sprang to his feet and charged down the slope to the attack.

Chapter 15.

The Menel were so intent on what was happening in the water that Blade probably could have charged down on a horse without alerting them. He had seldom been able to take an opponent so completely by surprise.

He threw one spear with all his strength at the control box. He aimed between the two Menel, and the spear sank a foot deep into the box. The humming died instantly and most of the lights went out. The two signalers turned to face Blade, but since neither of them was armed he ignored them.

He charged the Menel commander, letting out his breath in a roaring battle cry as he went, hoping to startle or distract the being. The Menel was just beginning to turn on its base, the arms that held the weapon swinging upward, when Blade came in with a leaping side kick. Both feet drove into the Menel with all of Blade's speed and all of his two hundred and ten pounds behind them. The Menel weighed half again as much, but it was caught too far off balance. It tottered, the two free arms flailing the air wildly, claws snapping within inches of Blade. Then it went over on its side with a thud and a peculiar warbling cry.