Gondwane - The Enchantress Of World's End Part 9

They looked around, without any ideas in particular. For as far as the eye could see in any direction, there was nothing else to be seen, except league on league of blowing gra.s.s rippling under the invisible caress of the wind. The sky which arched above ,them was as empty as the plain whereon they stood. Gold and crimson appeared in the direction they a.s.sumed to be the east; the sky was still dark purple directly overhead, but gradually the flush of rosy dawn illuminated the dome of heaven.

"All I can suggest is to go south," Ganelon confessed after some moments of silent cogitation. "South of here, somewhere, is Jemmerdy. And if my master has given up trying to find me, that's where he would go. We were taking Xarda home. Xarda is one of those lady knights they have in Jemmerdy . . . you know, that's the country where the men are all artists, and intellectuals, and the women do the hard work and the fighting."

Griff nodded; he had heard of Jemmerdy.

"So ... if that's east, which it must be, then back there must be south. And we might as well get started, as we have a lot of walking to do. It'll be easier in early morning, before the heat of the day comes upon us ..."

Phadia had contributed exactly nothing to this desultory conversation. The boy was too busy looking around at this newness, and anyway, he was accustomed to leaving all of the decisions in his life to grown-ups. Since leaving the hothouse atmosphere of the Pueratormm, in which everything always remained exactly the same and nothing was ever different or particularly exciting, the lad had gone through a remarkable series of strange, marvelously new experiences. He regarded the whole thing as a lark, a spree: Lin Carter it was, in fact, the first real holiday he had ever known, and he was enjoying it enormously.

Just standing here like this, up to your tummy in damp gra.s.s, was new and strange and therefore, exciting to him. Whatever was going to happen next was a matter of complete indifference to him. If his new friends wanted to march south all day, well, he would march along with them as best he could.

Blue clear sky . . . red-and-gold sunrise . . . empty expanses of cool, dewy gra.s.s ... he was eagerly determined to enjoy everything. The decisions were made by the grown-ups; which was, he thought to himself in a satisfied way, the way things ought to be.

So they started walking south.

The city caught up to them before they had been walking for a half-hour. Phadia had been the first to glimpse it, moving swiftly and almost silently across the plains. His companions had regarded it with great amazement, for even on Old Earth's last and mightiest continent, hi these days of the Twilight of Time, a City that moved along overland all by itself was an object of considerable rarity.

At first, they simply continued along the way they had been heading before the weird, hovering metal metropolis appeared on the horizon. And at first the City moved in a straight line, evidently following a course which ran divergent to their own.

But before very long the City turned about and came towards them, and they realized they had been seen or sensed by whatever creatures might be the inhabitants of the futuristic mobile metropolis. They began to run, but in a little while they abandoned this attempt as futile. It became obvious that the Mobile City could traverse the Purple Plains many times faster than could they.

There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to take a stand, not even a tree to climb. So they just stood there waiting for the City to approach them. Ganelon and the Tigerman stood side by side, their weapons held at the ready; as for the boy, he cowered timidly behind the bronze giant, peeping out from time to time.

The City came cruising up on its whooshing air-cushion until its perimeter was about thirty feet away from them. Then it came to a dead halt They stood staring up at it, the slim, soaring spires and towers like truncated cones, and peculiarly-shaped domes which were rather like Christmas tree ornaments. A network of aerial bridges or walkways curved between the domes, spires and towers. But there seemed to be no traffic upon these, neither were there to be seen any guards or sentries stationed on the rooftops of the nearer structures. In fact, they could see no people at all. Not one figure was visible on the long straight streets which radiated from the central ziggurat-like edifice in all directions, like the spokes of a wheel. It was all very mysterious, and quite alarming.

A few moments later, elongated metal shafts extruded from beneath the nearest edge of the immense metal plate which formed the foundation of the City as a whole. These tubes telescoped smoothly towards them with a faint, creaking sound: the whiff of lubricating oil reached their nostrils.

The tubes extended themselves until they were di-rectiy above the three: then wriggling pseudopods of gleaming red metal came slithering out of the open tip of the rods. These extrusions were supple and boneless as are the tentacles of a Myriapod *, and they came wriggling down around the three motionless figures. Ganelon saw that they were about as thick as his thumb and seemed to be made of overlapping sequences of metal rings, which slid smoothly upon each other. They were perhaps held together by some cohesive force, such as magnetism, *An example of lapse of internal time-sense, on the part of the author or authr (or authors) of the Epic. That is, Ganelon had yet to encounter a Myriapod at this point in the course of his career. He does not fight a Myriapod, in fact, until the eighth book of the Gondwane Epic.

Lin Carter As the metal tendrils settled about them, Ganelon voiced his booming war cry and struck at them with his sword. The sword, which was made of ferrous metal, struck the tendrils and clung thereto, as if hi the grip of some unbreakable force. Simultaneously, the Tigerman had employed his ygdraxel in a comparable maneuver, with precisely the same result. Or lack of result, I should say.

The metal tentacles slithered about them, coiling about hips, upper chest, arms and legs. They were gripped snugly, but not with crushing force. Held immobile and helpless, but not uncomfortably so, the three struggling figures were lifted smoothly up into the ah*, whereupon the telescoping rods began to close up with a jerky, machine-like motion.

They were borne hi this manner up onto the edge of the Mobile City, which still hovered about fifteen feet above the surface of the plain on its air-cushion. When the tendril-system had reached the edge of the city, it pa.s.sed them on into the grip of a metal net which two mechanical arms, branching out from the upper story of a cylindrical building of some kind, held open to receive them. They were suspended for a moment over the open net, then the tendrils released their multiple grips. They tumbled into the flexible container, whose mesh gave with a springy elasticity under their weight. The mechanical arms thereupon drew closed the mouth of the net, which it then pa.s.sed on to the next waiting pah* of arms. In this manner they were pa.s.sed from "hand" to "hand" across the width of the Qty, until they reached the central ziggurat. An opening appeared hi its curved flanks and they were dumped within.

As they tumbled into the circular opening, Ganelon was trying to figure out whether a mechanical flying city had kidnapped them, or captured them, or was it that they had been shanghaied?

The precise term, of course, was irrelevant.

They were prisoners.

THE WELCOMING COMMITTEE.

Dumped into the circular orifice which opened in the gleaming metal flanks of the central ziggurat, Ganelon and his two comrades went tumbling headfirst down a slick, smooth slide. This incline carried them down into the bowels of the structure in a giddy, swooping ride that curved and twisted in the most bewildering manner. For the most part, the slide led them through regions of lightless gloom; but at intervals they shot forth into the blue-white glare of artificial lamps. During such periods they went dizzyingly past, or through, or around levels filled with incomprehensible machinery. There were giant engines, motors whose bulk dwarfed the largest mammals, and confluences of colossal pipes and tubes which resembled nothing so much as t.i.tanic pumping stations.

After some time then* trip ended most abruptly as the slide terminated in mid-air, hurtling them onto an immense inflated cushion or gas-bag obviously designed to minimize injury.

No sooner had they struggled to their feet than la.s.sos fell around them, lightening with a jerk. Staring up, they were surprised to see a number of disreputable-looking, rather ruffianly figures suspended above them, clinging to an aerial network of bright-blue metal pipes and tubes. They were a rag-tag, roguish lot, clad in the filthy tatters of former finery, wild greasy locks flying around pinched faces. Quite obviously, these dilapidated vagabonds were stationed 152 Lin Carter here to seize or subdue any chance visitors to the moving metropolis who might happen to drop in, as you might say. It was equally obvious that the scrawny rogues counted heavily on their prey being stunned and dazed by their swooping, veering journey down the steep inclines.

In the present case they had erred, at least as far as the burly Tigerman went. Like all of his feline ancestors, Grrff had the ability to land on his feet and his sense of balance was innate, as was his natural-born resistance to vertigo. Voicing a rumbling roar of outrage, the brawny Karjixian writhed out of his bonds in a trice. He had lost his ygdraxel to the magnetic tendrils, but being unarmed never phased the jungle warrior. Reaching up, he seized ahold of the la.s.so cords and gave them a vigorous pull, s.n.a.t.c.hing two squeaking ragam.u.f.fins from their precarious perch in the piping. They fell squalling and bouncing onto the gas-cushion and Grrff sprang upon them, buffetting them senseless with his heavy paws.

Ganelon was dizzy and disoriented from his headlong trip down the greased shoot, but he was only a moment or two behind the Tigerman's example. One powerful jerk of his arms and four of the raggedy starvelings were plucked from their places above. The others, shrilling curses, clambered away from the debacle with the ungainly agility of monstrous spiders, abandoning their hapless cronies to whatever fate lay in store for them.

Ganelon quickly subdued his four captives in much the same manner as had Grrff and, turning to see how Phadia fared, was pleased to discover that the resourceful lad had whipped out his knife and had cut himself free. Of them all, only Phadia had not been disarmed by the magnetic tendrils which had captured them.

Gripping his captives by the scruff of the neck, Ganelon floundered to the edge of the immense inflated cushion and slid down it to the floor of the huge, bas.e.m.e.nt-like room in which the greased slides had 153.

deposited them. Grrff came at his heels, kicking his unconscious catch along ahead of him, and Phadia brought up the rear.

"A fine welcoming committee!" fumed Grrff, his usually amiable temper severely ruffled for once. "If these skinny varlets be an example of the local citizenry, then we have fallen into a lair of bandits!" He gave his unconscious captives a furious shake, then began searching them curiously.

"Not bandits," Ganelon corrected him, lips pursed judiciously. "lomagoths, I should say. Notice the tribal tattoo above the left eye. But this is strange! The lomagoths are generally a kindly and hospitable lot, so long as you keep your eye on them and lock up the family silver."

"What are lomagoths?" inquired the boy, bright-eyed with curiosity. He found their endless succession of adventures a source of continuous entertainment.

"Wandering bands of tinkers who travel the countryside in gaudy carts, drawn by nguamodom" replied the Construct. "Ages ago, they were a horde of barbarians who formerly inhabited the regions known as The Hegemony. As the other denizens of those lands gradually became civilized, the lomagothic clans retained their nomadic way of life. But they were weaned over many generations from their war-like ways, becoming a gaudy, thievish, lazy, illiterate race of wanderers. I have never known them to dwell in cities before; wonder how they came to be here?"

"Probably s.n.a.t.c.hed up in pa.s.sing by this mechanical kleptomaniac we are all traveling in," growled Grrff disdainfully. "Harmless tinkers, is it? Maybe in your homeland, big man; in Grrff's dear country, they are chicken-thieves, cattle-rustlers, and kaobonga-stealers!" * A few of the captives were beginning to come * A species of very large, four-legged, air-breathing fish found in the jungle streams and rivers of Karjixia, and cultivated by the Tigermen as a staple food.

154 Lin Carter around. Groaning piteously and clutching throbbing brows, they crouched on bony, trembling haunches and stared fearfully at the somber, towering young giant and the burly-chested Tigerman.

Licking thin lips with the point of his tongue, one of them hesitantly addressed them.

"S-surely, your wor-worships intend no h-harm to a poor old lomagoth?" this individual piped shrilly, sharp little black eyes darting about as if seeking an avenue of escape. "No h-harm was meant to your n.o.ble persons, Zilth a.s.sures you! 'Tis our practice to immobilize unexpected visitors, hi order to ascertain if they be enemies or f-friends-"

" 'Immobilize,* is it, you scrawny guttersnipe?" growled the Tigerman threateningly. "Grrff'U 'immobilize' you, aye, with his claws out, next time you try to jump HS!" And, thrusting his great paws under the little man's nose, he bared his glittering and savagely sharp claws with a snicc sound, making the little rogue squeak and cower.

"No rough stuff, Grrff," cautioned Ganelon, stepping forward. "We can't get any information out of these creatures if you scare them half out of their wits! You, there, Zilth, is it? Who's in charge of this city?"

The little man huddled at his feet, examining his second interlocutor with bright, fearful eyes.

"The n.o.ble gentleman asks a question with two answers, at least," he whimpered. "The City runs itself, of course; it's name is Kan Zar Kan. But we of The Folk who dwell herein like hunted rabbits, well, our chief rules us. King Yemple is his name ..."

"No one lives here but you lomagoths, then?"

The little rogue darted his eyes about and licked his lips as he did, seemingly by reflex action, before every spurt of speech. Ganelon got the feeling that, for Zilth, every direct question gave him the choice between his normal mode of reply, a devious lie, and that rarity from his lips-truth. Under the present circ.u.mstances, it seemed, he was too frightened to speak anything but the truth.

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"Mostly lomagoths," he said in a reluctant whine. "A few rogues, of course-"

"Who eluded your clutches in much the same manner as we did?'* offered Silvermane. The scrawny little man eyed him warily, then nodded.

His bony wrists tied behind his back, Zilth reluctantly led them towards the headquarters of the lomagoths. The others they had seized were disarmed of a staggering c.u.mulative a.r.s.enal of daggers, dirks, stilettos, and a number of wicked little hook-knives. They were bound, gagged and left behind.

The room into which they had been precipitated was an enormous, meandering sort of sub-bas.e.m.e.nt, dark and poorly ventilated, and thronged with an immensity of hydraulic pipes, tubes and conduits. The floor was of oil-stained concrete. Why the City had deposited them in such a place was unknown to the lomagoths, who had only been in residence for about two generations, having been captured by the Mobile City pretty much as Grrff had guessed. They had been crossing the Purple Plain in one of their gypsy caravans forty years ago when suddenly, the City had descended upon them and s.n.a.t.c.hed them up into its metal maw, one by one. And here they had remained ever since, either too fearful to attempt to leave, or frustrated in doing so. The City tolerated their presence not so much because it liked them, but because it felt that a proper city should have inhabitants, and any inhabitants were better than no inhabitants.

All this was elicited from their little captive during the subterranean journey. Once his fears of lingering torture or sudden death were mollified, the scrawny little rogue became actually talkative. He was a remarkable little person, no more than four feet tall and thin as a broomstick, with a long-jawed, unshaven face and a sallow, unhealthy complexion. Since his beard was blue-black, this lent him the most peculiar appearance you can imagine. The upper part of his face was yellow, and the bottom half a stubbly blue.

156 Lin Carter He had a long sharp nose, bright inquisitive black eyes, and lank blue-black, remarkably greasy hair, bound about his brows by a scarlet kerchief. Gold rings wobbled in his earlobes and his breath exuded a mingled redolency of garlic, onions, cheese and sour wine.

He did not, of course, say so, but Ganelon guessed that when it had been observed by lookouts that the Mobile City was in the process of scooping up another shanghaied "citizen," a troop of the gypsies went down to the gas-cushion room. They readied themselves to capture the new recruit, strip him of his possessions and then, as likely as not, conduct him before the princeling of the vagabonds as a potential slave. Possibly some of the Kan Zar Kanians enlisted into the local citizenry in this fashion were later ransomed, or perhaps joined the tinker band voluntarily. That remained to be seen.

In the meanwhile, Ganelon just clumped along gloomily, following where the capering, voluble little rogue led. He wondered what had become of the Illusionist, Xarda and Erigon. Were they captives here, or had the City slain them?

Or were they in Kan Zar Kan at all?

That remained to be seen.

WITHIN THE ROBOT CITY.

Yemple was a fat, jolly old man with a pink-yellow scalp visible through his spa.r.s.e strands of dirty white hair. His rubicund face was perpetually wreathed with sunny smiles, but despite his air of heartiness Ganelon sensed a clever, cunning brain that ticked away under the surface, constantly estimating the advantages and drawbacks in whatever situation presented itself.

Probably Ganelon was correct in guessing that it was the usual thing for the lomagoths to seize upon, plunder and enslave newcomers to Kan Zar Kan the moment the automatic mechanism deposited them hi the bas.e.m.e.nt of the central edifice. If so, the gypsy king accepted the complete reversal of roles with equanimity, beyond a few bawdy jests at the expense of poor Zilth who grinned and snickered shamefacedly, shuffling his long feet in embarra.s.sment.

They were served a buffet lunch which consisted of prairie-birds roasted whole, feathers and all; ah* vegetables, a variety of succulent tuber which floated at various levels above the Plains suspended from inflated bladders filled with a hydrogenous gas; and shishke-babs, consisting of gamy meat cubes skewered and cooked over charcoal. Half-heartedly chewing on this last delicacy, Ganelon wisely decided not to inquire into its source. Since the lomagoths inhabited the sewers of the robot metropolis doubtless those sewers, like all others within Ganelon's experience, were inhabited by rats.

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Lin Carter The meal was washed down with a thin, sour red wine, to the tinkling thumps of tambourines and the hip-wriggjings of dancing-girls. Among these, the stellar role was filled by Yemple's own daughter, the lissome Slioma. She was a slim but well-rounded la.s.s with dusky skin, flashing black eyes, and warm red lips perpetually open in a lazy, inviting smile, baring teeth of startling perfection and whiteness. Phadia, a severe critic when it came to the fine art of terpsi-ch.o.r.ean endeavor, was captivated by the vivacious princess of the gypsies, who was not very much older than himself. The lad had hardly ever seen a girl before, much less one of his own age, and his fascination proved there was hope for him yet.

As the boy watched her undulate about the room, bare brown legs twinkling amidst the twirling of flounced, scarlet, innumerable petticoats, Ganelon and Grrff observed his entranced, open-mouthed admiration. They beamed fondly and exchanged a grin of paternal satisfaction.

As the wine bottles went back and forth, the hospitable gypsy king waxed talkative. The Mobile City, he understood, was one of the remarkable constructions abandoned by the Technarchs of Vandalex after the collapse of their empire. Originally, the gigantic robot had been designed as a self-mobile, completely automatic metals mine. Equipped with electronic sensors of extraordinary subtlety, the robot mining machine was supposed to navigate the Purple Plain seeking out subterranean ore deposits. Upon finding one, it squatted atop the ground, rather like a nesting hen, extruding from its underneath drill-probes and clutchers. Excavating the, ore, which it drew up into its innards, the giant 7o5ot smelted and refined the metals thus extracted from the bowels of the planet, stacking them in neatly aligned ingots.

Once programmed for these multiple functions, the machine could virtually run itself forever. When a portion of its machinery broke down through neglect or decay, the machine was permitted by its standard code 159.

of operating procedures to draw upon its stockpile of ingots, set into operation its machine-shops and thus to repair itself. In the long ages since the collapse of Vandalex and the fall of the Technarchs, the giant robot had received no further instructions from Grand Phesion, the capitol. It had been left to its own devices. Becoming over-burdened by the ingot stockpiles, the mining robot had added to its own structure, in lieu of instructions to the contrary. Observing from afar the cities of men, and lacking any other idea, the simple machine had transformed itself into the replica of a city. Since cities require inhabitants, the machine had captured a quant.i.ty of them. Its first inhabitants had been a lengthy caravan-train from Jashp, bearing a party of Zealots on pilgrimage to the shrine of the Floating Stones in far-off Klish.

The Zealots had inhabited the city for about one generation, but had died out due to a lack of females. Thereafter, the Mobile City of Kan Zar Kan (so christened by the unhappy Zealots, who named it after the most excruciating of the seventy-three h.e.l.ls in their dire mythology) had been careful to take aboard females as well as males, during her/his/its periodic efforts to add new citizens to the coEection. The loma-goths had replaced a dwindling band of Quaylies, one or two of which were still around.

Ganelon found it impossible to get a word in, so talkative was the fat old vagabond prince when hi his cups. By the time a tattered band of giggling, bright-eyed gypsy children led them off to the sleeping quarters reserved for guests, he still had not been able to find out if any of his missing friends were also aboard the Mobile Qty.

He reasoned that they must be, for surely Dzimdazoul had directed them into that part of the Purple Plain for the avowed purpose of reuniting him with his friends. He went to sleep stiE worrying about it.

The next day, Ganelon and his companions explored the City. The gypsies were engaged in hunting meat, Lin Carter and the travellers rather squeamishly preferred not to know how then* ruffianly hosts procured food for the table. Declining the invitation to join in the hunt, they were left to then* own devices.

Slioma volunteered to be their guide on the tour. The bright-eyed gypsy girl was intrigued by the strangers, who represented ways of life entirely foreign to her experience. Like many girls her age, the thought of far-off lands and strange kingdoms was irresistibly exotic to her, and she had taken to tagging about after them. She proved a lively, amusing guide, with her piquant chatter and provocative, sideward glances.

She led them to the street-level of the City, which was completely deserted, save for machines. Here were built rows on rows of metal houses, or what closely resembled houses. It puzzled Silvennane that the loma-goths ignored these relatively palatial dwellings for the dark, noisome sewers below the streets. Inquiring of Slioma on this point, the girl seemed baffled; Ganelon at length-came to the conclusion that the vagabonds were more accustomed to a furtive life in hiding, than an open, lawful existence in respectable surroundings. It seemed never to have occurred to them to switch their homes to live in the upper air.

Peering inside one of the metal houses, he realized there was more good sense to their preference for the submunic.i.p.al warrens than he had at first supposed. For the houses, though neat, light, airy and scrupulously clean, were totally devoid of any furnishings, nor were there interior rooms. They were merely empty containers^Jwhose facades alone--suggested their purpose was to accomodate human families.

"Why, it must be the City's fault!" exclaimed Phadia eagerly. "Of course! The City could only see houses in other cities from a distance, and had no idea what was supposed to be inside of them!"

" 'S' true," the girl chimed in. "OF City 'nt know how real folks live. 'N' always cleanin' up after folks, so." She shuddered fastidiously. Personal cleanliness 161.

was a trait observed princ.i.p.ally by strict avoidance, among her raffish tribe.

As they explored the perfectly empty buildings, strolled along the spotless but untraveled streets and ventured on some of the nearest aerial walkways, the City observed them benignly from its thousands of "eyes"-binocular vision lenses stationed at odd points about the metal metropolis. These twinkled down at them with a sentient watchfulness that made Griffs nape-fur tingle and his hackles rise. But the continuous observation was somehow kindly and gratified. The City desired to be inhabited, and it pleased the gigantic robot intelligence to see its populace strolling about its usually unpopulated ways.

When they wearied after a time and sought to rest, a bubble car came smoothly to a halt before them and opened its transparent canopy invitingly. Phadia would have clambered in for the pleasures of an aerial ride but Grrff held him back by the scruff of the neck and Slioma indignantly waved the vehicle on its way.

"Go long with you," the girl scolded shrilly. "Git, now!" The vehicle regarded them calmly but with a trace of sadness in its lenses, then scooted off and floated into the air to join its empty, purposelessly circling comrades. The girl flirted her skirts after it, then came swaggering back to where they stood.

"Ol' cars, they take un where they want un to go! Nemine where you wanna go!" Ganelon studied the circling swarm of weightless vehicles and observed the traffic pattern, which was utterly regular He repressed a sudden qualm: had they accepted a ride from the car, they might have remained trapped in it for days or even weeks, helplessly held captive aloft until the balance of the pattern decreed their vehicle should come to rest.

During their tour of the Mobile City, Ganelon and Grrff observed with avuncular fondness the frequent and meaningful glances the girl exchanged with the boy. During one pause for rest, Phadia showed Slioma 162 Lin Carter some of his cosmetics. The girl delightedly submitted to the deft application of eye-liner, lip-rouge, and instant hair-setting spray which turned her lank, greasy locks into a glossy cloud of shimmering ebon curls. Sniffing with delight the perfume he had dabbed on her wrists, the girl swore with pleasure.

A while later, looking back to see why they were lingering behind, Ganelon was amused to see them holding hands as they strolled dreamily along after the grown-ups/ The central citadel of the City interested him. Inquiring thereof, he noticed the gypsy girl evaded direct answers with slurred half-statements. As the shades of afternoon began lengthening towards nightfall, and they started to return to the submunic.i.p.al warrens for the evening meal, Ganelon directed his companions to return without him. Once they had vanished into the sewers, he headed directly towards the immense structure which bulked at the hub of the city's disk. It was there, he reasoned, that the sensory and cognitional faculties of Kan Zar Kan must be located. As the City seemed benevolent towards its denizens, he hoped to persuade the monster mechanism to a.s.sist him in locating the Illusionist. , There did not seem to be any entrance at street-level, so he clambered up the gleaming flanks to the second story and gained entry through a port which opened into a completely darkened chamber.

He had only advanced five steps into the darkness when a stern voice bade him halt. He whirled about lithely, prepared to give battle to whatever sentry was stationed here.

Light appeared amidst the darkness and by its glare Ganelon could see the being who had accosted him. He gaped in amazement at what he saw.

KAN ZAR KAN.

IS ATTACKED.

Lin Carter Griff only nibbled at his dinner and drank only a flagon or two of the sour yellow wine the lomagoths distilled from the juices of the air vegetables. The burly Tigennan was distracted by worry over the fact that Ganelon Silvermane had yet to return to the gypsy camp.

As to exactly why this should worry him, Grrff himself could not articulate. Surely, the bronze giant was able to take care of himself should he be set upon by beasts or human foes, for he was twice the weight of an ordinary man and had almost the strength of a G.o.d. The City itself, though capricious and at times inscrutable, was charitably disposed towards its inhabitants to the extent of extracting water from the atmosphere to serve then* needs here in the sewers. The gypsy king a.s.sured him that Kan Zar Kan would not attempt to harm the giant man.

Still, Grrff could not allay his suspicions that something had happened to the big man he regarded as his friend, comrade and fellow-warrior. At the evening feast, peering around at the scrawny ruffians, Grrff found himself wondering if the vagabonds were really as friendly as they seemed. Perhaps they had waylaid Silvermane once he was alone, and had imprisoned or slain him. King Yemple swilled down wine, gurgling with laughter over the grotesque capers of his clowns and conjurers; sly, thievish Zilth gorged on fresh meat, jested and snickered with his cronies; Phadia and Sli 163.

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Lin Carter oma hardly touched their meat and had eyes only for each other. Before the feast was actually concluded, the Tigerman noticed, the lad and the girl stole off together to find an unused cubicle. Grrff only hoped it was for the purpose of mutual amatory pleasure, and not a cunning plot on the part of Yemple's bravos to separate them one by one and then capture them. But about an hour and half later his tentative suspicions were relieved when the two young people returned to the feast, flushed, bright-eyed and tousled, with their clothing considerably in disarray.

By bedtime the giant man still had not returned to the tunnel system. Grrff, tossing and turning restlessly on his pallet, entertained visions of Ganelon trapped in a bubble car and condemned to endless circlings of the City; of Ganelon lost in the sewers, having forgotten the code markings which clearly blazoned the way into portions of the system currently inhabited by the lom-agoths; of Ganelon seized by the cold, dispa.s.sionate sentience of the City Brain, and now stretched naked under blazing antiseptic lamps while the robot intelligence scrutinized his innards, laid bare by dissection. The multiplicity of dire eventualities his fevered imagination conjured up forbade Grrff from slumbering.

At length he rose, took up his gear, and found his way past snoring vagabonds to the upper levels again. He had no real idea of where Ganelon Silvermane could have gotten to, nor even why the big man had remained behind. But remembering his queries regarding the central edifice, Grrff decided to begin his search there.

The City by night was weird and more than a little spooky, the faithful Tigerman discovered. The empty buildings stared at him with blank windows, like the eye-sockets of so many giant skulls. His footsteps clanged hollowly on the metal streets as he strode their length. He constantly had a feeling of being watched from a secret place of concealment by hidden 165.

eyes, which caused his hackles to lift in a stiff ruff of fur. Clenching his weapon in his huge paws he prowled the City, eyes roaming nervously from side to side.

The City was in motion, skimming along over the Purple Plain in a north-easterly direction insofar as he could judge, and traveling along at a pretty fair clip- about thirty miles per hour, he estimated roughly. The omnipresent hum and purr of the internal mechanisms of Kan Zar Kan were lost in the rush of wind that blew, with an eerie moaning sound, through the tall spires of the robot metropolis. The air cushion which lifted the dish-like foundation of the City a dozen feet above the violet sward was almost completely soundless: the City glided across the prairie in ghostly flight. It was all just a bit unnerving, he found.

And so was the metal metropolis itself. For its un-ligjited and long rows of dark, empty houses, unilluminated towers and gloom-filled domes lent it something of the aspect of a dead, long-deserted city of the past. In his quests and peregrinations across the mighty face of Gondwane, the Tigerman had once visited the Cylinder Cities of the north and the Dead Cities of Caostro in the remote southlands: the same weird uncanniness gripped him now that he had experienced in those far kingdoms, whose builders had belonged to races long since extinct.

Grrff wondered to himself why Kan Zar Kan did not light itself by night. Surely, the several techniques of artificial illummation were not beyond the skills of its automatic workshops. He brooded over the possibilities of their being some arcane and mysterious reason for the lack of night lights. The City, cloaked in gloom, glided across the meadowlands in an almost furtive fashion. As if bound on a sinister mission, it concealed itself in darkness the better to avoid chance discovery as it crept stealthily upon its prey.