Time's Dark Laughter Part 11

"You saw The Serpent?" Blackwind was incredulous. "You saw The Serpent?"

Jasmine eyed Paula suspiciously, for she hadn't mentioned anything of the kind earlier. Ollie, too, took note- though he revealed nothing of his interest. He sat as much in shadow as courtesy permitted, remembering everything being said, who responded; who would be a friend, and who would not.

Paula went on to tell her story of seeing Josh kidnapped in Ma'gas', her pursuit of the pirate ship with Michael and Ellen, and the unloading of the hostages in The City With No Name.

Jasmine's eyes glowed. "He is in the City, then."

"He's in the City," Blackwind echoed.

"You must understand," Starcore said to Jasmine, "our feelings about The Serpent. Most of us have never seen him. We hold him in special reverence-fear, love, hate. We curse him and worship him. His return now will have a profound effect upon our order. Where it will lead, I can't say."

"We must save him," said Candlefire.

"Perhaps," said Starcore. "The whole tribe will have to discuss it."

Ollie spoke, for the first time. "With or without you, we will save him."

"Whatever these Pluggers decide," David spoke to his group, "we'll make our own decision. Wouldn't do to rush things now, with success so clear if our preparation is sound." He looked pointedly at Jasmine. "Wouldn't do for any of us to rush things."

"You talk a big word, sport," Michael mocked.

"When it's time to do, I'll do," David said quietly.

"I wouldn't make Book on it," Michael muttered.

Paula stood, ending the squabble. "We'll go now. Tell your people, and tell us their decision. We'll await word."

Candlefire returned to his own cave and sat in the dark, trying to a.s.similate the new information.

The Serpent had returned.

Something was going to happen.

He didn't know what, but something. Perhaps The Serpent would release them in some way, release them now as he had before; release them from this inexquisite life they now walked, floated through-floated through like ghosts.

That's what they were, ghosts of their former being, of the consciousness they once shared. Half-alive wraiths. He could no longer think as clearly as he did in-circuit; his feelings were no longer as dense or complex; his perceptions apprehended the world in shadow, now. He felt like a lower form of life; algae on a cave floor.

What relief to be freed from this condition. But how would The Serpent do it? Destroy the castle, perhaps, and with it the cables; and with them, all hope of ever plugging again. Without hope there could be no grief; no waking, no more agony. No more emptiness: like a bottomless pit, these catacombs had swallowed his soul. Yet now, such terrible rumors of light . . .

Perhaps The Serpent would simply kill the Pluggers, his poor lost children. Candlefire hoped this was truly why The Serpent had returned-for death would be the only true rest, the only real release from the shackles that locked his brain to his body, held it within the confines of his own skull.

Or would The Serpent return his orphans to the castle, actually rejoin them to the Plug? Could Candlefire possibly hope to know Fusion again, to be in-circuit with the Queen and all the others? His mouth went dry just to think of it What if he was given a choice between the freedom of following his own mind down here in the caves-or wherever he wanted to let it lead him-or the Circuit, lying captive, naked, degraded. And ecstatic.

To his deep shame, with a desperate craving, he knew he would pick the Plug.

Perhaps The Serpent was here only to raise these questions, to force his children to come to terms with their lives and act.

Silently, Candlefire wept, and beat his fists against the wall of the black cave.

Blackwind raced to the deepest cave he knew of and wedged himself in its tapering blind crack. Here he felt safe. Huddled in the darkest, lowest, most inaccessible corner of the catacombs, he could not be reached without his knowing, and few could find him at all.

The Serpent! What did it mean? Almost certainly he was in the castle to unplug more Humans from where they lay in-circuit. More lost souls loose in the world.

Oh, G.o.d, to have seen Heaven and then be thrown out into these wormholes . . .

And Rosel Her name was Rose, the Plugger he had met in the north and convinced to come here. Rose, who was with The Serpent when he unplugged the rest, Rose who went with The Serpent during the first years.

Maybe The Serpent was here for her! Maybe he had come for her, to take her back. Maybe Blackwind could strike a deal with The Serpent-give him Rose in return for a Plug, or a chance to get back in-circuit, hi the Queen's good graces.

Yes, that was it. He would make a deal. He laughed his hoa.r.s.e, whispery laugh in the bottom of the stone crevice, but soon the laughter turned to tears, tears that wouldn't stop, tears of desolation for something that once was but was no more. His sobs echoed off the stone, his hollow eyes reflected the blackness of these tombs his life had become.

Starcore sat staring into the coals of the blazing stove fire; so close, his face flushed from heat and pain. He circled the core of the fire, probed the white-red center with his eyes, with his souL Come, Serpent. Come, O living deathless cable. Join us, Dragontail of Connections, he thought to the flame.

His heart was beating rapidly, almost fluttering; his breaths came quick and shallow. He salivated.

Come, I bid you, suck my swollen brain and sting me with your burning venom, Serpent! You have come to save us, Serpent 11 am yours.

Starcore called a meeting of all the Pluggers an hour later, in the great meeting-cave. He told them The Serpent had returned to the City. There was disbelief, outrage, swooning, sobbing, and ecstasy. Even the unblind caves themselves seemed momentarily to raise their heavy lids, and snarl uncertainly into the depths.

Only the newcomer, Rose, now called Windlight, silently sat in a dark corner, shedding the dry tears of guilt and the dense heat of constrained pa.s.sion.

CHAPTER 9: The Brevity and Understatement of Feline Wit.

Isis twitched her ears, opened her eyes, raised her nose. Something. What was it? A sound? No. A smell. Well, nearly a smell. A presence. Joshua. It was Joshua. She stood quickly, sniffed every direction. Her eyes dilated.

After the flood in the tunnels that had separated her from her friends five years before, she had waited. Certainly, Josh would come to get her. But hunger had overcome her patience finally, and she had ventured out for food, still staying close to where she had become lost. That was the beginning of her subterranean life.

She had become a tunnel Cat. She preyed on Rats, Fish, occasionally eggs. She hated the water but learned to develop a sort of stalemated adversary relationship with it, even learned to swim, after a fashion. And she waited for Joshua.

For the entire first year, she consciously waited for him. Gradually, during that period, she explored more and more of the network of wet and dry tunnels beneath the City. There was much activity during that time-Vampires and Neuromans abounded, trying to track the commandos who had violated their impregnable fortress, looking for hideaways, access routes. All without success. Finally, they retreated back up to their lairs, and Isis was left alone once again. She continued to wait After Josh failed to show for the better part of that year, she twice tried to ascend the stone shafts that connected the tunnel system to the City above. Both times the chute was blocked by an electrified wire grid that knocked her, semiconscious, back down into the running water below, and would likely have killed her outright but for her feline resilience.

She continued to live in the dark corridors after that, continued to wait-though what she was waiting for became less and less clear. She remembered Josh intermittently for another year; then simply continued to wait-for what, she knew not; then simply continued to live down here, since this seemed to be where she lived.

Now, in an instant, that was all changed. Now she smelled Joshua, and remembered.

She walked up and down the watery ducts for an hour before she picked up his true scent. There was no doubt, now: it was Joshua, returned for her.

She made her way slowly against the current-chest-deep on her-staying close to the walls, where the footholds were better and the stream less rapid. At every turn the smell got a little stronger, a little more insistent. Isis licked her nose.

Finally the presence became so great that she stopped and looked around wildly, expecting to see him at any moment. Nowhere. Only the shaft above, where Joshua's odor was heavy. She crawled out of the water, shook herself dry, dug her claws into the pocketed stone, and began the vertical climb up the black, windy chute.

The hairs on her back stood up at the memory of her previous encounters in these shafts-the electric shocks, the battering falls to the water. She took a long pause with each step, sniffing, listening, half of her wanting to run ahead, the other half wanting to run back. Her eyes were wide and wild.

She reached the place where an electrified screen had been-the screen Josh had crashed through on his plunge out of the Queen's chambers-and stopped. A few ends of singed wire remained, sticking out of the stone. Isis sniffed. They reeked of ozone and Joshua.

She climbed carefully here, to avoid the remaining wires, then ran up the last stretch without stopping. When she reached the top, she jumped over the lip of the bin and landed in a four-footed crouch on the floor.

It was dark, but less so than the tunnel had been. Josh- ua's smells were strong, but now mingled with others. Predominantly one other. Isis looked around. There, in the far corner, sat a lone figure.

Isis padded casually but directly toward the seated woman. As Isis approached, she noted both Joshua's and this woman's smells intensify. These were soon mingled with dozens of other presences-not exactly smells-which Isis couldn't see, or identify in any other way.

By the time she was within a few feet of the throne, Isis was heady with Joshua's recent proximity-his smells were all over the strange woman in the chair. The little Cat jumped into the Queen's lap, curled up, and began to lick the back of her left paw in a manner she felt was dignified and touched with enough n.o.blesse oblige so that the strange woman in the chair would know she had been royally graced by Isis's choice of her lap.

Isis decided she would wait there for Josh: without dramatics, without antic.i.p.ation, without the barest betrayal of her truest feelings: she would wait, like a Cat.

The Queen looked down in surprise at the sudden appearance of the small furry beast in her lap. She stroked Isis's head a few times and smiled. Isis ignored her.

"h.e.l.lo, little kitten. To what do I owe this honor? And wherever did you come from? The tunnels, by your look. Well, go on, then, give yourself a good bath, you need it very well, we can tell, we can tell, by your smell, fishy smell. A tunnel Cat in the Queen's chambers, that's a step up in the world for one such as you, that's what I call sweetening the kitty, pulling up your own puss-'n'-bootstraps, coming to me, as you can see."

Isis ignored her, continued licking her own paw.

"What then, Cat and Mouse with me, is it? Cat got your tongue, foul little Ratcatcher?"

Isis licked the Queen's leg once, almost accidentally as she licked the side of her own paw; then, without breaking stride, without acknowledging the Queen in the least, lifted her paw to lick its underside.

The Queen was briefly miffed, then quickly relented. "Well, clean yourself, then. Cat as Cat can, I suppose! I'll have my sterile Neuromans give you a proper cleaning hi a bit, little twit, little kit, you're likely seething with bacteria. I'll have to have my royal self decontaminated after such a redolent visit-'but not degerminated, no, not that, by my seed, indeed. Ah, you don't mind my scratching your neck here, do you? There. I need something to comfort me these days-just something soft to touch. I suppose you knew that, though; else why would you've come? It's those pla-cental hormones, I don't doubt, have made me so needy, and drawn you here. I wish you "could talk to me, though. We could plot the new world together, you and me, and baby makes three, as you can see, as you can see." Isis ignored her, and went to sleep.

CHAPTER 10: The City With No Name.

BEAUTY, D'Ursu, and Aba approached the drawbridge over the moat that surrounded the outer wall of The City With No Name. Beauty couldn't suppress a shudder at being so near the place again, but D'Ursu scolded him under his breath, and warned him to breathe normally and wipe the smell of tension from under his arms. Quickly, Beauty regained his composure.

D'Ursu himself seemed wary but at ease. The days out in the open had done much to calm his spirit. Aba maintained an outward sense of equanimity, though excitement sharpened his eyes and ears to every nuance in the air. A Vampire culture was being developed here, it was said; a Vampire destiny being shaped. Aba was anxious to find out just what these rumors meant. And then, of course, he had his other reason for being there-to search for Lon's last lesson.

He stood behind D'Ursu as they approached the gate, Beauty off to the side. Near a bush by the gate, a movement caught Aba's eye. Inconspicuously, he placed his hand on D'Ursu's back-lightly, briefly, just to get the Bear's attention. "Walk easy, old Bear. We're watched, from the copse."

Suddenly a Cerberus leapt out of the bush and planted itself directly in their path. It twitched its ears, salivated, a.s.sumed a posture of attack, and growled. The three pilgrims bared their necks; then D'Ursu took another step forward and spoke.

"We are emissaries from Jarl, the Bear-King, and would have diplomatic audience with your Queen."

The three heads of the Cerberus growled louder. D'Ursu "Nay!" she screamed. "Naaay!" And the wind shrieked with her. took one giant step forward and backhanded the creature so hard it flew ten feet and landed on its seat.

"Insolent Dog," D'Ursu growled, "didn't you hear me use Jarl's name? Now go fetch your master and tell him we've arrived, before I chew off your middle head and feed it to the others."

The Cerberus inched away, then jumped up and ran inside the portico. In a few moments he returned with three Vampires and two Neuromans.

"That's better," growled D'Ursu. "An escort."

They all introduced themselves, and again D'Ursu stated he had King's business with the ruler of The City With No Name.

"Of course," the captain of the entourage, a supercilious Vampire named Lee, said, with a haughtiness he had no interest in suppressing. "I'm certain it's important business, too. If you'll just follow me, I'll see you're settled hi until the Queen has time for you."

With that he turned-without awaiting a reply-and walked through the front gates and into the City, followed closely by Beauty, D'Ursu, and Aba.

As they marched through the roiling Outer City, only D'Ursu managed to remain unimpressed. Beauty had strong and complicated feelings about what he saw, based partly on his shadowed memories of the night he floated down the river that cut through the City, to s.n.a.t.c.h Rose back to freedom. Aba, too, had his senses jostled. His nostrils flared in resonance with the throngs of Vampires and the rich odors of their Human chattel.

It was like a throbbing organism, this city without name.

A profusion of houses and stores had filled up most of the outer section over the years. They jumbled up and intersected one another without regard for street or structure. To the right of the main gate a great open-air market remained, and the noise level from the bartering there drowned out even Beauty's thoughts.

They were taken over a bridge that crossed the major tributary of the Sticks River, then marched west again, toward the castle. The castle itself was overwhelming. Monstrous, made of stone, with turrets and towers, it lorded over everything that could see it. Thousands of fine, electrified wires radiated from the castle, crisscrossing to the outer wall like the strands of a complex spider web, preventing aerial attack or escape from the City. The spider, seemingly, was asleep.

And everywhere, Vampires. Hundreds of them, dressed in flowing, wildly exotic colors; more in one place than even Aba had ever seen. They strutted the twisting avenues, many walking their Humans on leashes-a social activity known as harem-strolling. At one point the group walked near a pit where harem members bred for fighting were matched against one another by their owners. The Human who lost was pa.s.sed from Vampire to Vampire, for their pleasure and drink. Aba felt sick at the sight of the spectacle, and had to turn his head.

Presently they came to the inner wall, were pa.s.sed on through by the guard, and entered the Inner City. Nothing could have been more different.

There were almost no Vampires here-it was virtually a Neuroman enclave. In contrast to the Outer City, this inner compartment was quiet, orderly, clean, and colorless. Neat rows of barracks lined spotless streets that met at right angles. The Neuromans were all in uniform, rarely spoke with one another, and all seemed to have someplace to go. D'Ursu Magna had no use for either sector. "Stinking cities," he grumbled, and spat.

At the castle gates, the Vampire guard turned back, and the three friends were escorted by the Neuromans into the grand foyer. It was cool inside, surrounded everywhere by stone. Here", too, Neuromans seemed to glide by with quiet efficiency; few other creatures were visible.

They were marched down the main corridor, up one flight of stairs, and down two more halls before being deposited, finally, in a large, bare room, where they were left alone with the only door shut and locked. D'Ursu Magna looked as if he was on the verge of smashing the door down with a single blow of his paw; Aba, seeing this inclination in the Bear's mind, shook his head no, half-pleading, half-parental.

"This is a fine welcome for visiting dignitaries," gruffed D'Ursu. He immediately lumbered over to' a corner and urinated.

"Is this the way it was?" Aba asked Beauty. "When Lon was here?"

"I never saw the inside of the castle then," Beauty said, thinking back to that desperate time, "but the City outside is the same." He paused. "I never thought I would come back."

"Not through the front door, anyway, eh, Beaut6 Cen-tauri?" laughed D'Ursu, scratching his back on the doork.n.o.b.

"Do you fear recognition?" asked Aba.

Beauty shook his head. "None saw me then; I was only in the river and tunnels. It is for Rose I fear, and Joshua. She was known here; and his spells are a constant threat to his safety."

"How will you find them?"

"As the King's emissaries, how else?" rasped D'Ursu. "They'll give us the run of the castle."

Aba looked dubious.

Beauty said quietly, "I memorized the room locations on those maps many years ago. If we can steal a little solitary time here, I think I know where to look."

"The keys to the stinking City, that's what they'll give us," D'Ursu a.s.sured them.