Warlock. Part 9

'Soon,' Shaker Sandow agreed.

Soon what? he wondered. Just what is all this about and what are we walking into here?

And then the region which the birds had reported was fully upon them. In the s.p.a.ce of half a dozen steps, the ratio of gems to living plant flesh grew markedly greater until, abruptly, there was not the least sign that anything here was alive. Everywhere: bright. Everywhere: images of themselves. Everywhere: wealth!

Great palms thrust upward in petrified beauty, their boles semi-transparent with millions of tiny facets. The palm fronds overhead were feathery constructions, crystallized into the most delicate laces. The sun came through them and was transformed into a rainbow aurora, making the floor of the forest seem like the inside of a mammoth cathedral with the largest stained gla.s.s windows in the world. In the uppermost levels, the wind and the rain had taken their toll on the fronds, had shattered them completely or had made them ragged. But further down, they remained intact, a spectacle to make the eyes seek darkness and comparative comfort.

Around their feet, glittering ferns stood at brittle attention, their undersides coated with tiny, crystallized spores that each looked like a bead of solidified wine. When a foot touched them, they shattered and sprayed up, went down with a tinkling reverberation that was like the laughter of small children-or of evil spirits.

The orchids and other flowers here had also been transformed, and the smooth petals now stood permanently open, permanently fresh, colored a very slight purple. The stamens and pistils were like the hobby work of a watch-maker, intricately perfect, carved from diamonds by a madman with the eyes of a hawk and the sense of precision of a ballet dancer. Some of the men carefully plucked blooms and tucked them into their lapels. The crystals made the undersides of the men's chins shine with color!

It was Shaker Sandow who made the unpleasant discovery.

He was prowling along a small lane between the scintillating plants, examining the wide variety of forms which had been frozen in detail for eternity. He had noticed that rocks and soil had not been affected, only whatever plant life had been about. He had also noticed, here and there, pieces of metal breaking the ground, rusted and eaten through, but impressive nonetheless. It seemed as though they were roofbeams the size of the wooden ones beneath the shingles of his own house back in Perdune, but made of steel. Clearly, here were the remains of the buildings that had existed before the Blank, back in times now lost. He felt his pulse quicken as he examined these bits and pieces of ancient times.

But these things were not what made him stand straight, his eyes wide and his spine suddenly cold.

The thing that did that was what appeared to be a tiger.

It was crystallized.

Shaker Sandow took a step backward, his eyes riveted to the beast which did not advance on him, could never advance on anything again.

The tiger stood upon three legs, the fourth foot braced against a tree where it had crystal claws sunk into crystal bark. On its face, there was a look halfway between rage and agony. It seemed that the disease had struck quite suddenly, too fast for the tiger to drop and writhe in its death throes-yet too slow to keep it from expressing its confusion and despair in at least this small manner.

It was striped, as tigers should be. It carried a very slightly orange cast, with darker umber streaks through it, though it was more transparent than anything.

Mace, who had been nearby-as always-had apparently seen his master's surprise. He had come along the narrow trail with swift, easy grace. 'What is it?' he asked.

Sandow pointed.

Mace looked, grumbled, bent and touched the frozen creature of the jungle. 'Can it do this to us?' he asked the Shaker.

'That's what I have been wondering,' Sandow said. 'That's the same nasty thought I've just had: we might all remain here like this tiger if we don't break out quickly!'

17.

With amber head and green body, crimson hands expressing his emotions better than his words did, fingers moving in quick flight before him, Commander Richter considered the danger they might all be in, and he tried to weigh it all correctly before taking any action that might be adverse rather than helpful.

Multi-colored, his men listened and watched.

There eyes were kaleidoscopes.

They were still flesh, but the light from the prisms which so gayly colored them made them feel as if the first taint of the crystal blight had already gotten within their blood. Perhaps, already, minims of gem structures swirled through their blood!

'But would we not already have changed?' Richter asked the Shaker, hands flitting, face melting honey.

'I have no way of knowing that, But the fact remains that we a.s.sumed that only the plants had been transformed-when it was the animals, too, that were stricken, all living things.'

They had found a dozen birds perched rigidly and eternally upon the glittering branches of the trees. Their colorful plumage was even brighter in the death than it could ever have been while they lived and flew. They watched the a.s.sembled men with hard, shining eyes that saw nothing at all.

There was a snake, too. It had been found alongside the little clearing in which they now stood. It looked like nothing so much as a diamond walking stick.

'If we take the gems with us and manage to escape with our flesh intact,' Richter mused, 'will the jewels we carry away be deadly? Will they, at some later time, transmit this disease to us and bring about our destruction? And perhaps the destruction of the Darklands where we will take them when our mission's done?'

'Again,' the Shaker said, 'we can only guess.'

'Then we shall not risk it,' Richter said, though he clearly loathed breaking his promise that all the men would know some wealth when they returned across the mountains.

That will not be necessary!

They turned, in all different directions, seeking the source of the words all of them had heard. In the fantasmagorical fountain of jewels, there was no one but themselves.

'Who spoke?' Mace asked, his hand upon the hilt of his knife, his eyes shifting about through the trees.

I have no name to give you, the voice said. the voice said. In a thousand years, you see, one loses the need for a name and soon forgets who he was! In a thousand years, you see, one loses the need for a name and soon forgets who he was!

'There is a real voice,' Richter said. 'We are hearing a Shaker's tongue inside our heads.'

'Not a Shaker,' Sandow said. 'It is too smooth, too a.s.sured, too easily performed telepathy for a Shaker. Alas, we are not so well-talented as our visitor.'

'If you have no voice and no name,' Richter said to the air around them, 'perhaps you have no form, either. But if you should have features like other men, show them to us so that we may rest easy that we don't speak to demons.'

Above you, the stranger said. the stranger said.

They looked overhead in time to see the face forming on the fronds of the glazed palm trees, spread over an area of six feet, the face of a minor G.o.d looking down on them, from some equally minor heaven. It was an indistinct face in some ways, chiseled by the sharp edges of the crystalline structures. But they could make out this much about it: the eyes were very blue and deepset beneath a broad forehead and above a strong, patrician nose; the chin was square and strong and set with a dimple; the lips between the nose and the chin were very thin and not the least bit sensuous; it was a man, a young man with a flowing mane of yellow hair which curled down the nape of his neck and concealed his ears.

His lips did not move as he said: I hope this is better. I had forgotten that men still of the flesh expect to view those to whom they speak. I hope this is better. I had forgotten that men still of the flesh expect to view those to whom they speak.

'You said something about the jewels we see around us,' Richter reminded the spectral visage. 'Are they safe, or does our fate soon become the equal of the tiger's fate -or of yours?'

The transformation of this part of the forest was completed long ago. Now, all remains in stasis and no further changes can be made, you are safe; the jewels are worth taking with you.

A collective sigh of relief pa.s.sed through the men, and they seemed to stand easier. One or two of them bent and picked up the stones they had been examining while waiting for the specter's judgment of their safety.

But most of them still watched the face which shimmered overhead, fascinated by the alienness of such a vision.

'What manner of thing caused this change in the jungle?' Shaker Sandow asked he face. 'Was it some disease or other?'

First, the specter said, the specter said, you must understand the nature of this jungle in which you find yourself. you must understand the nature of this jungle in which you find yourself.

'It is round,' the Shaker said. 'And there is some artificial heat source beneath the surface of the ground.'

Perceptive. What more do you know?

'Nothing, really. There has been no time for examination of these interesting facts.'

The face watched them, expressionless, nothing more than a construct for them to direct their attention to. Around them, inside their heads, the voice came again: At one time, this was a great amus.e.m.e.nt park. It was surrounded by a force shield which kept its animals within it, and visitors rode through encapsulated in smaller shields, getting first-hand looks at the jungle animals of earth and several other worlds from which animals had been brought back. Do you understand force shields? At one time, this was a great amus.e.m.e.nt park. It was surrounded by a force shield which kept its animals within it, and visitors rode through encapsulated in smaller shields, getting first-hand looks at the jungle animals of earth and several other worlds from which animals had been brought back. Do you understand force shields?

'No,' the Shaker said, rather sadly. 'The world of such marvels died some centuries ago.'

The refugees came through, for a while. That was some eight or nine hundred years ago. Telling strange tales of war in s.p.a.ce, of traitors in high councils, of the earth shifting and dancing beneath the feet. They said mountains grew where no mountains had been and seas opened beneath cities once built upon rocks. We few who lived here, within the crystals, knew nothing of that. Our jungle was stable and no changes came to us-and we were incapable of going elsewhere to look. The refugees ceased to pa.s.s through, and only every few hundred years do we find one such as yourself.

'And you?' Sandow asked. 'How came you to be as you are, not flesh but jewel?'

Those who owned the amus.e.m.e.nt park were always anxious to find new and unique jungle creatures to place here. Within traveling distance of but a day, there were three cities with many people-many prospective patrons. On some distant world, circling an alien sun, they found a small furred creature, much like a mongoose, which lived in a crystal maze which it structured for itself, a sphere of crystal as hard and enduring as any metal. One was anesthetized and returned here at great expense, turned loose to establish itself in its new home. They imagined a new tourist attraction would be added when its crystal home was finished, but they misunderstood the creature (a common thing, this ignorance, as we fled to the stars with more business ac.u.men than scientific knowledge). The mongoose somehow was able to tamper with the very nature of Time itself as concerns living matter. In its panic and confusion, it began to spin this colorful landscape that you see. Before it had been killed, all this large sector of the forest had succ.u.mbed to it and has remained this way since.

'But you live, despite what was done to you.'

I was a caretaker here. Four other human beings fell before the crystal change, and all of us live yet, though in a strange way. Our bodies still live, just as the plants live, just as the tiger and the snake live, though that life is invisible to human eyes. It is a life stretched across eternity. We live now. We live at the origin of the universe. We live, too, at the end of the universe a hundred billion years from now. Our life energies have been captured and spread across the map of eternity like b.u.t.ter over bread. We inhabit the crystal, but we inhabit the very ether of every era in history, recorded and unrecorded. was a caretaker here. Four other human beings fell before the crystal change, and all of us live yet, though in a strange way. Our bodies still live, just as the plants live, just as the tiger and the snake live, though that life is invisible to human eyes. It is a life stretched across eternity. We live now. We live at the origin of the universe. We live, too, at the end of the universe a hundred billion years from now. Our life energies have been captured and spread across the map of eternity like b.u.t.ter over bread. We inhabit the crystal, but we inhabit the very ether of every era in history, recorded and unrecorded.

's.p.a.ce, you said,' the Shaker reminded the specter. 'You spoke of s.p.a.ce. The stars?'

Does not man still travel there?

'Man does not even fly his own skies, let alone those of other worlds,' Sandow said.

The specter was quiet a while. Yes, I can see that now. If I focus my attention in on the years ahead, the immediate, future, I can see that man is still struggling to regain civilization. Forgive me for being so stupid; but with all eternity commanding one's attention, the woes of a few thousand years seem as nothing and go unnoticed. Yes, I can see that now. If I focus my attention in on the years ahead, the immediate, future, I can see that man is still struggling to regain civilization. Forgive me for being so stupid; but with all eternity commanding one's attention, the woes of a few thousand years seem as nothing and go unnoticed.

'Please, a request,' Commander Richter interrupted.

That is?

'Can you see our futures? Can you know if we will meet with success?'

Such is not my province. The sweep of it all, you see, is far too ma.s.sive to make any single man's destiny stand out, even if he should be a king.

'Of course,' Richter said. But he was disappointed. All of them were, for all of them were not above knowing if the G.o.ds were on their side or not. Even an atheist would welcome a burning bush which brought him the word that he was Chosen.

Shaker Sandow returned the specter to the subject at hand. 'Will man ever return to the stars? Do you see that in the vista of the future?'

Yes. And he will be greater than ever.

'Permit me a moment,' Richter said again. 'The sun is all but gone. Let us make camp, Shaker. Then you can speak with your crystal friend all night if such is your desire.'

'It is mine,' the Shaker said. 'But is it the desire of our friend?'

I have time. The only way I can ever converse with a single man, in a single mote of history, is if he comes here among the crystals. Now and then, such a diversion is welcomed. The minuscule, after the eternal, can be quite fascinating.

'A backhanded compliment, that one!' Mace said, roaring with laughter, though no one else seemed so amused.

'Come on, you lummox,' Gregor said. 'Let's get our things settled, then scoop up our ration of these jewels. Leave the Shaker to his specter.'

'I would think you would be interested in the apparition as fully as the master,' Mace said.

'That I am. But I fear my presence would dull some of the Shaker's enthusiasm. There are times when a man needs to be alone, even when he desires company. The Shaker understands. He will tell me of it later, in detail and with flourishes that will make it even better than it was.'

And so, though the others slept to conserve their energy for the continuation of the trek in the morning, the Shaker spoke to the face in the diamonds-which had settled from overhead until it appeared on the bole of a palm tree on a level with the seated Shaker's face.

And the night pa.s.sed.

He held the diamond snake, running slim fingers along its super-hard skin, along the light pattern of colors.

And tales were told.

In the morning, as fresh as he had been that night, he ate his breakfast while listening to the faceted face, and when it was time for them to depart, he asked one last question which he had been saving for such a time as this.

'Good friend,' he addressed the specter, 'I have been wondering whether your imprisonment has been h.e.l.l for you, or heaven. And perhaps-perhaps you would wish me to try to help. These constructs-but for the lacy palm leaves and ferns-are quite solid. But perhaps I could smash the image of your body and free you from torment, if such you are in.'