Time's Dark Laughter Part 1

Time's Dark Laughter.

James Kahn.

That which is in disorder.

Has neither rule nor rhyme, Like the stars at Heaven's border And the troubled laughter of Time.

-Francis Carl in, The Raveled Edge.

PROLOGUE: DRAGON EGGS.

Tuberous, k.n.o.bbly, soft; they sat in a warm, shallow pool where water from a hot spring trickled down the cold stone of the tunnel. Dark and warm.

An attenuated species, Dragons. Once grand, flaming, they were now almost extinct; yet a small clutch had found these tunnels, and proliferated. Their wings stunted, reflexes dulled, they wormed stiffly through the dank corridors that laced the cliffs beneath the City-living on the refuse of the people above, or on the smaller sewer creatures that cohabited their subterranean domain. Their mating habits, once directed by the stars, now knew only the season of the cave.

So, softly, the scrabble of talons on wet stone, scales grating against cavern wall, the rut and bellow of Dragon l.u.s.t.

While in a warm, shallow pool not twenty feet away, still only half-incubated from the last mating, and still quite oblivious to the writhing lizards in the cul-de-sac beyond- Dragon eggs.

Tuberous, tantalizing . . . from behind the lip of a narrow chasm, down the shelf of rock that ab.u.t.ted the pool, something studied these eggs.

A shape, without form, without motion; a blackness in the blackness-it crouched, staring at the eggs, sniffing the ah-, watching the nearby Dragons circle and couple. As the giant reptiles neared their frenzy, the formless shape crept swiftly from its shelter, padded up the slippery channel to the warm pool, looked left and right, paused. Its pupils constricted in the weak light from a side tunnel not seen from the earlier vantage. The light was feeble but gave the creature a silhouette. It had the outline of a Cat. Its name was Isis.

Warily Isis watched the clambering shadows of the Dragons in heat-clawing each other and the endless night in extremities of pa.s.sion. They roared thunder. In that moment, Isis snagged the nearest egg with her forepaw, rolled it down the stony slope, over the ledge to her hidden ravine-then tore it open with two quick yanks.

She lapped voraciously at the congealing yolk; chewed the few cartilaginous bits that had begun to form. This was a rare treat.

When she had done, she sat; licked her paw, drew it across her face, repeating this many times. In this, she was meticulous.

Suddenly, in mid-stroke, she stopped: the crashing above-the mounting-had ceased. The mother Dragon could be heard sc.r.a.ping, step after slow step, back to its nest.

In complete silence, Isis backed through her ravine to its other end, down a three-foot drop into a twisty fast-water ca.n.a.l. Cannily, she swam several rough turns, paddling out finally at a dry, cool cross tunnel, where she sat only long enough to shake herself out; then trotted calmly off into the dark.

CHAPTER 1: In Which There Is an Unusual Reunion.

THE boy ran silently down the limestone path that twisted through the jungle. He was barely fifteen years old, yet muscled like a tiger. Feline were his feet, too, calloused as footpads; and his eyes, which registered all movement even in these dark mists; and his instinct. Into the flesh of his chest a large ruby was sewn, glinting every time his pectorals flexed. He burned bright, this tiger of a boy.

It was night in the rain forest, steamy and dense. Everything was suffused with a red glow cast by the phosph.o.r.escent algae that covered the ground, filled the pools. The foliage so closely surrounded the path down which the boy ran that he had to crouch to avoid getting tangled. Like as not, he would have crouched in any case: he had crouching ways.

Presently he came to the Alder River. The Alder ran backward. That is, it made a white-water plunge from the Pacific Ocean into the depths of the rain forest-quickly at first, then winding down to a subdued saline flow. Not much vegetation grew along the banks here, due to the brin-iness of the soil, but bleached bones were strewn everywhere, like the broken stalks of death.

The sh.o.r.eline was the gray-white of a dirty salt lick, and just beyond it, the jungle encroached as closely as it dared. Invisible birds chirped, insects buzzed. Steam-the real substance of the jungle-hovered in the air as animals screamed or were silent, according to their sense. And the deeper the boy weaved his way into the dense matrix of the rain forest, the more inexorably he became part of the jungle itself, a cell in the organism.

He lowered himself into the river from the chalky bank, taking rest as the gentle current bore him south and east. Once, a Gator approached his backside, showing its teeth; but the boy warned it off with a select phrase in its own language; and it quickly disappeared into the depths. Most animals knew by scent or sense: it was well not to make sudden moves near this boy.

Others approached. Eyes, recessed into the foliage, like dark jewels buried in thought, kept silent pace for a time. Then they, too, withdrew.

The boy seemed calm, but alert. He a.s.sumed the world was hostile, but took this as such a basic premise that it neither upset nor surprised him. Things were as they were. He had always endured; he would endure.

A giant Lizard stood on the sh.o.r.e munching palm leaves, balefully eying the boy who floated past him. The boy saw the Lizard but ignored it, for it posed no danger.

A quiet rain began to fall-fat, soft drops plopped heavily all around, partially clearing the hot vapor that filled the air. In the undergrowth, jungle eyes glittered.

The boy didn't know what to expect from the tribe whose Queen he sought-it was spoken of only in rumor. Some said it comprised the misfits of a dozen other groups: creatures who had banded together to seek Utopian values after having been exiled from their own peoples. Others swore it was a penal colony that had overthrown its keepers and now lived at the expense of unsuspecting travelers. He was ready for whatever he found-as a Human in a largely animal world, he felt at ease with outcasts.

In the distance, the main fork of the Alder was approaching. The boy brushed a cobweb from his face. From the trees, suddenly, a sound: a continuous humming of voices in the lower registers, almost a groaning. It rose and fell, in pitch and volume, as if it were the jungle's own erratic pulse, as if the beast were stirring from deep sleep.

The boy swam closer to the center of the river, automatically, without expending any energy in the decision or the effort. His energy was focused on his senses. His actions were unclouded by fear or ambivalence or strain. His mind was ever clear.

New voices joined in the droning along the sh.o.r.e, swell- ing like a Gregorian wind. The boy pulled a spider web from his nose, then dipped his hand into the river to wipe off the sticky shreds.

A series of mocking cries rose over the building din; and then, finally, one long howl.

"Howlers," the boy muttered. He dove, and swam underwater for nearly five minutes. When he surfaced, the warbling ululations were diminished. He left the water, once again entering the vegetation.

Almost instantly he was jumped by three Howler sentries, who set upon him with glee and drooling. One held his legs, one his arms, while the third heaved a club into his belly. He crumpled to the ground. As he lay in the ferns, struggling for air, the three guards licked his body all over with their long, prehensile tongues-preparatory to the kill.

It was a kill they never enjoyed.

He blinded two simultaneously with precise stabs of his clawed fingernails. The third he killed in the same moment with a kick to the throat. Then he stood and dispatched the first two with his knife before they could howl. He stood only a minute longer, catching his breath, then went on.

Great, furry, melon-sized Spiders lived in this area of the river, and Spider packs attacked him twice. But each time, at the first hint of a web sticking to him, he would quickly follow the thread back to the Spider who had spit it-they were not, for all their treachery, nimble beasts- and kill the creature with a swift knife thrust or a heavy rock. A few such encounters, and the Spiders desisted.

The boy moved like a vapor toward the tribe's encampment. It was their Queen he wanted; he had to get her. For seven days, he had been stalking, seeking the way with a careful, thoughtful urgency that characterized the two sides of his personality: calculation, and fettered pa.s.sion. It gave him a hunted look.

One step at a time, he neared his destination, closing like an elusive suspicion. If a creature got in his way, he would kill it with little feeling. A step, a kill-it was all one to him.

Until the Vampire swooped out of the tuli tree to clamp its icy fangs in his neck. This was no witless engagement; for the boy loved to kill Vampires.

Ignoring the electrical pain in his neck, the boy thrust toughened fingers into the demon's mouth and, with two twisting, violent tugs, nearly tore off the Vampire's jaw.

It shrieked and jumped back in amazement, its bleeding mandible dangling curiously to the left, unhinged. One of its fangs had broken off in the boy's neck. They regarded each other with malice, and circled.

Again, the Vampire lunged, wings spread. But his timing was off, the boy had unnerved him so. The young Human side-stepped the attack and stabbed the Vampire above the right kidney-twice, in and out with such speed that he could have struck twice more before the Vampire turned; but he wanted the death to be slow. He was never cruel this way, except with Vampires.

The wounded creature staggered off into a moss grove. The boy let him leave, and returned to stalking the Queen's camp.

The rain stopped, the steam returned. Morning was only an hour away, as he crawled meticulously under a thicket of barbed orchids. Finally, through a matting of vines, he saw the bivouac. Tents, fires, a stream. An altar. Howlers, Frangols, Spiders, Vampires, Harpies, a couple of Neu-romans, probably Cidons, Snakes, Cats, some Griffins.

The boy watched from his protected position, absolutely motionless, drawing barely two silent breaths each minute. In the clearing, activities went undisturbed. Some creatures slept, some kept watch. In one corner, Spiders were laying eggs in a ragged hole they had chewed in the belly of a dying Gorilla. Near the main fire, a mother Sphinx suckled her baby.

The boy's attention was drawn to a far tent, from which two Vampires dragged a weakly struggling Human. They pulled him to the stone altar at the center of the camp; then each gnashed one of the Human's wrists and began sucking from the wounds. The Human pa.s.sed out, and with his b.l.o.o.d.y wrists the two Vampires drew ritual designs on the stone. The boy, who watched from the bushes, clenched his teeth-it was all he could do to keep from running into the clearing and cutting them.

Suddenly a figure leapt out of a larger tent, a creature so overwhelming that all the others seemed to shrink. It was a woman.

A tall, naked woman, red of skin and hair, with kohl-black eyes, and a crown of jewels framing her head. The Howlers fell face-down on the earth before her; the Spiders quivered.

This, in the carmine darkness, was the Red Queen.

The Vampires at the altar faced her. They were visibly shaken.

The red woman screamed: "Gos! Vhu! You have broken my law!"

"We had our own laws before we had yours," spat the Vampire named Gos, his anger overwhelming fear.

The Red Queen raised her hand, and green flame shot from her fingertips. Like a liquid nightmare, the flames engulfed the head of the Vampire who had spoken. He ran, screaming, into the jungle, his face on fire.

The other Vampire fell to his knees and bared his neck to the red woman. "My Queen, forgive me."

"You dare indulge in these ancient rites," she hissed. "I have forbidden them." The bleeding Human on the altar stirred. The boy in the bushes watched.

"I wallow in the black dreams of my ancestors," said the kneeling Vampire.

"You must pay penance," said the Red Queen, somewhat subdued. Two young Harpies tumbled over each other with a ball, and this further broke the tension of the scene. Someone rattled a pot. A Lizard barked.

Before he heard another sound, the boy was grabbed by five creatures. No fewer could have held him. The Python wrapped his legs while the others dragged him into the clearing. All other movement stopped.

They pulled him to the feet of the Red Queen and held him there for her to view, to decide, to p.r.o.nounce. He looked up at her mighty figure, her head in the steam, her muscles taut with purpose.

"Release him," she said quietly.

They hesitated fractionally, then obeyed their ruler. The boy stood and faced the magnificent woman, her powerful body glistening in the heavy night.

"Ollie," she whispered.

"Jasmine," he replied.

Before the astonished eyes of the jungle camp, they fell together and hugged each other until they couldn't breathe.

They sat alone hi Jasmine's royal hut trading stories the rest of the night and the following day.

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "How are you? Where's Josh? What are you doing here?"

"I'm . . . fine." Ollie smiled. He had a slight hesitation to his speech, and h.o.a.rded his words like a miser his money. "And you?"

Jasmine-now Queen Redmasque-had never been stingy of syllables, and launched immediately into a rambling narrative.

" 'I'm fine. And you?' That's a response after two years? That's Joshua's influence, the taciturn Scriptic. Me? Of course I'm fine, I'm Queen of the Jungle, here since, oh, two years ago almost-right after I saw you last, in fact. Let's see," she continued, "last I heard of you all, you and Josh were trapping Rat around Ma'gas', fur-trading with the Ice Countries; Rose and Beauty were trying to farm olive trees east of Port Fresno; and Humbelly had died of natural causes in the Flutterby migration of '25. We were having a reunion, as I recall, near Newport; and a grand one it was. Then I went over and spent some time up at the Mosian Firecaves." She was aware she was babbling a bit, but she was uninterested in stopping herself-here was an old friend from a distant past, and Jasmine felt effervescent with words.

Ollie knotted his'brow. "Near Mount Venus? That's all in ice by now."

"That part of the country has been in ice for years now. There's a city there, anyway, though-under the ice. A city of Neuroman scientists, mostly bioengineers. They use the Firecaves as the city's energy source. There are a number of interesting projects going on there, I found out, including the one I took advantage of-they do bodywork on old Neuromans like me. Tuned up all my parts, rewired my circuits, filled me up with Hemolube that almost never needs to be replaced. I'm telling you, I felt like a new woman. But that wasn't all, they added some special features-I couldn't resist. Look, I've got a hidden abdominal compartment now ..."

A small door opened out of the plastic skin of her left flank, revealing a dark, empty s.p.a.ce in Jasmine's belly. She closed it again quickly, and its margins were instantly lost in skin folds.

"For special secrets," she went on, with a wink. "Then they modified my fingers-some have magnesium napalm flares in them, some explosives, some potions. Anyway, with so many new toys, I needed a special playground- so I came right on down here, to the Terrarium."

OHie smiled nostalgically at his old tutor-friend-nanny. In spite of her fearsome appearance, she had changed not an iota-still a garrulous, warm madwoman. After the daring rescue from the castle five years before, she had taken him under her guidance for a time-tried to teach him how to live and act in a world sparkling with danger. He had learned to be hard and cold as a jewel on ice-not the lesson she taught, but what he took away: in such ways we give credit to our teachers for things they never did, or even intended; but such is the nature of students and teachers.

OHie envied Jasmine her ease in the hostile world, her power to be touched without being weak. His strength lay in his ability to remain untouched. That is, her nerve endings registered awe when most people's would register pain or fear; OHie's nerve endings were usually just numb.

Still, he smiled now to see her so happy to see him. In some ways, she was still his teacher, though they both knew he had left school long ago.

She continued speaking. "Most creatures down here never heard of high-tech, see, so they just thought I was magic. Got quite a following. Howlers mostly at first- they're very impressionable-then the Spiders and Snakes.

The more powerful I got, the more animals joined up. Even some other Neuromans-they knew what I was; they just wanted a piece of it."

"Piece of what?" Ollie queried.

"The action, child, the action. The Ice has been moving south so fast the last few years, animals don't know what's going on. Migrations, strange behavior-everyone's moving south, and lots are coming into Dundee's Terrarium. And when they wander into this part of the jungle, brother, I run it.

"Animal wants to live here, he works for me, Queen Redmasque-that's me. We mine jewels, we process herbs, we smuggle, and we guide. We've got a religion and an a.r.s.enal, and we take care of our own. Anyone breaks the tribe laws, we eat 'em. Anyone violates the jungle around here, we do worse than that. We're a scary bunch, and that's all there is to it." She smiled broadly, the unscariest smile Ollie had seen in many a long day. He rarely smiled himself, but now felt such a warm glow from the grin of this wily Neuroman that he was moved to embrace her again.

"The world was always a grand wonder to you," he marveled.

He spoke with affection, though he would never admit to such a feeling-he was much too proud, scared, and protected, Jasmine knew, ever to betray so soft an emotion. She couldn't, she knew, read actual love into his voice, because Ollie was still too hollow, after his experiences in the Vampire harem, to be capable of that helpless condition. Too vulnerable to expose himself through that most vulnerable of states.

He sat back again and took up his own recent history. "I left Josh soon after this reunion you mentioned. Hunting with him, trapping-it was me in the trap, not those sorry Ice Rats. And I hated Scribery-which was very upsetting to Josh."

Ollie came from a family of Scribes, but he had forsaken the religion the day he escaped from the Vampire harem: words had neither saved him nor given him solace-his friends had saved him, through cunning and force. The holy written word, he had decided, was as flimsy as the paper it was written on.

"So I left. Joined a pirate ship in Ma'gas' and sailed for a year. Learned speed and trickery. Had a pirate woman for a while, but I lost her in a Ba.s.s fight off the Baja coast. Guess I should have known better."

Jasmine wondered if he meant he should have known better than to fight Born Again 'Seidon Soldiers in their own waters or known better than to get close to someone. He paused briefly at this sensitive memory. "I left the sea after that. Did a little smuggling on my own. Took some vigilantes into the southeast Terrarium, burned out some of the Vampire colonies. You can't burn them all out, though-there's too many, you know. One way or the other, you end up with blood fever, so what's the point."

It was the febrility of a killing frenzy that, Jasmine suspected, had begun to affect Ollie, not the hepat.i.tis endemic in Vampire colonies. She was soothed to see he had been conscious of-and dissatisfied with-the vertigo of blood heat.

"So I went back to living with Josh," he continued. "At his camp in the Saddlebacks. We hunted some. Evenings he wrote in his journal. I played my flute. Then last week Rose came to visit." He pursed his lip.

"Rose!" Jasmine laughed. "And how is she?" "She was living with Beauty-moving farther south each year, of course. As you said, the Ice pushes us all. Beauty was off scouting the eastern face of the Saddlebacks-he was going to join us when he found a good place to settle. Josh was very happy to see Rose. I can't remember him so happy. She didn't seem right to me, though."

"How not?" Jasmine was suddenly aware of a somber undercurrent in the boy's narrative.