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"I never have," said Lord Jagged. "But on the other hand, it would take a while, I suppose, and I was rather keen to see your menagerie this afternoon."
"Perhaps another time, then," said Mongrove politely, though it seemed he was a trifle disappointed. "Snout is one of my favourites. Or is it Snort? But I had better resist the temptation, too. Jherek?"
Jherek reached for the nearest dish. "This looks tasty."
"Well, tasty is not the word I'd choose." Mongrove uttered a strange, humourless laugh. "Very little Plague Century food was that. Indeed, taste is not the criterion I apply in planning my meals…"
"No, no," nodded Jherek. "I meant it looked — um…"
"Diseased?" suggested Lord Jagged, munching his new choice (very little different in appearance from the Snout or Snort he had rejected) with every apparent relish.
Jherek looked at Mongrove, who nodded his approval of Lord Jagged's description.
"Yes," said Jherek in a small, strangled voice. "Diseased."
"It was. But it will do you no great harm. They had slightly different metabolisms, as you can imagine." Mongrove pushed the dish towards Jherek. In it was some kind of greenish vegetable in a brown, murky sauce. "Help yourself."
Jherek ladled the smallest possible amount on to his plate.
"More," said Mongrove, munching. "Have more. There's plenty."
"More," whispered Jherek, and heaped another spoonful or two from the dish to his plate.
He had never had much of an appetite for crude food at the best of times, preferring more direct (and invisible) means of sustaining himself. And this was the most ghastly crude food he had ever seen in his entire life.
He began to wish that he had suggested they have the Turyian dungwhale, after all.
At last the ordeal ended and Mongrove got up, wiping his lips.
Jherek, who had been concentrating on controlling his spasms as he forced the food down his throat, noticed that while Lord Jagged had eaten with every sign of heartiness he had actually consumed very little. He must get Jagged to teach him that trick.
"And now," said Mongrove, "my menagerie awaits us." He looked with despondent kindness upon Jherek, who had not yet risen. "Are you unwell? Perhaps the food was more diseased than it should have been?"
"Perhaps," said Jherek, pressing his palms on the wood of the table and pushing his body upright.
"Do you feel dizzy?" asked Mongrove, grasping Jherek's elbow to support him.
"A little."
"Are there pains in the stomach? Have you a stomach?"
"I think I have. There are a few small pains."
"Hmm." Mongrove frowned. "Maybe we should make the tour another day."
"No, no," said Jagged. "Jherek will appreciate things all the more if he is feeling a little low. He enjoys feeling low. It brings him closer to a true understanding of the essential pain of human existence. Doesn't it, Jherek?"
Jherek moved his head up and down in assent. He could not quite bring himself to speak to Lord Jagged at that moment.
"Very good," said Mongrove, propelling Jherek forward. "Very good. I wish that we had settled our differences much earlier, gentle Jherek. I can see now how much I have misunderstood you."
And Jherek, while Mongrove's attention was diverted, darted a look of pure hatred at his friend Lord Jagged.
He had recovered a little by the time they left the courtyard and plodded through the rain to the first menagerie building. Here Mongrove kept his collection of bacteria; his viruses, his cancers — all magnified by screens, some of which measured nearly an eighth of a mile across. Mongrove seemed to have an affinity with plagues.
"Some of these illnesses are more than a million years old," he said proudly. "Brought by time-travellers, mostly. Others come from all over the universe. We have missed a lot, you know, my friends, by not having diseases of our own."
He paused before one of the larger screens. Here were examples of how the bacteria infected the creatures from which they had originally been taken.
A bearlike alien writhed in agony as his flesh bubbled and burst.
A reptilian space-traveller sat and watched with bleary eyes as his webbed hands and feet grew small tentacles which gradually wrapped themselves around the rest of his body and strangled him.
"I sometimes wonder if we, the most imaginative of creatures, lack a certain kind of imagination," murmured Lord Jagged to Jherek as they paused to look at the poor reptile.
Elsewhere a floral intelligence was attacked by a fungus which gradually ate at its beautiful blossoms and turned its stems to dry twigs.
There were hundreds of them. They were all so interesting that Jherek began to forget his own qualms and left Jagged behind as he strode beside Mongrove, asking questions and, often, giving close attention to the answers.
Lord Jagged was inclined to linger, examining this specimen, exclaiming about that one, and was late in following them when they left the Bacteria House and entered the Fluctuant House.
Here was a wide variety of creatures which could change shape or colour at will. Each creature was allowed a large space of its own in which its environment had been recreated in absolute detail. The environments were not separated by walls but by unseen force fields, each environment phasing tastefully into another. Most of the fluctuants were not indigenous to Earth at any period in her history (save for a few primitive chameleons, offapeckers and the like) but were drawn from many distant planets beyond the Solar System. Virtually all were intelligent, especially the mimics.
As the three people walked through the various environments, protected from attack by their own force shields, creature after creature encountered them and changed shape, mimicking crudely or perfectly either Jherek, or Jagged, or Mongrove. Some changed shape so swiftly (from Jagged, say, to Mongrove, to Jherek) that Jherek himself began to feel quite strange.
The Human House was next and it was in this that Jherek hoped to find the woman he intended to love.
The Human House was the largest in the menagerie and whereas many of the other houses were stocked from different areas of space, this was stocked from different ages in Earth's history. The house stretched for several square miles and, like the Fluctuant House, its environments were phased into each other (in chronological order), recreating different habitats from many periods. In the broader categories were represented Neanderthal Man, Piltdown Man, Religious Man and Scientific Man and there were, of course, many sub-divisions.
"I have here," said Mongrove, almost animatedly, "men and women from virtually every major period in our history."
He paused. "Have you, my friends, any particular interest? The Phradracean Tyrannies, possibly?" He indicated the environment in which they now stood. The houses were square, sandy blocks, standing on a sand-coloured concrete. The representative of this age was wearing a garment (if it was a garment) of similar material and colour, also square. His head and limbs projected rather incongruously from it and he looked a comical sight as he walked about shouting at the three men in his own language and waving his fists. He nonetheless kept a safe distance.
"He seems angry," said Lord Jagged, watching him with quizzical amusement.
"It was an angry age," said Mongrove. "Like so many."
They passed through that environment and through several more before Mongrove stopped again.
"Or the glorious Irish Empire," he said. "Five hundred years of the most marvellous Celtic Twilight, covering forty planets. This is the guinness, or ruler, himself."
They were in an environment of lush green grass and soft light in which stood a two-storey building in wood and stone with a sign hanging from it. Outside the building, on a wooden bench, sat a handsome, red-faced individual dressed in a rather strange dun-coloured garment which was belted tightly at the waist and had a collar turned up to shade the face. On the head was a soft brown hat with a brim turned down over the eyes. In one hand was a pot of dark liquid on which floated a thick, white scum. The man raised this pot frequently to his lips and drained it, whereupon it instantly filled again, to the man's constant, smiling delight. He sang all the time, too, a lugubrious dirge-like melody, which seemed to please him, though sometimes he would lower his head and weep.
"He can be so sad," said Mongrove admiringly. "He laughs, he sings, but the sadness fills him. He is one of my favourites."
They moved on, through examples of the prehistoric Greek Golden Age, the British Renaissance, the Corinian Republican era, the Imperial American Confederation, the Mexican Overlordship, the Yulinish Emperors, the Twelve Planet Union, the Thirty Planet Union, the Anarchic States, the Cool Theocracy, the Dark Green Council, the Farajite Warlord period, the Herodian Empire, the Gienic Empire, the Sugar Dictatorship, the Sonic Assassination period, the time of the Invisible Mark (most peculiar of many similar periods), the Rope Girl age, the First, Second and Third Paternalisms, the Ship Cultures, the Engineering Millennium, the age of the Planet Builders and hundreds more.
And all the time Jherek looked about him for a sign of the grey time-traveller while, mechanically, he praised Mongrove's collection, leaving most of the expressions of awe and delight to Lord Jagged, who deliberately drew attention away from Jherek.
And yet it was Mongrove who pointed her out first as they entered an environment somewhat barer than the rest.
"And here is the latest addition to my collection. I'm very proud to have acquired her, but as yet she will not tell me what to build so that she may be happy in a habitat which suits her best."
Jherek turned and looked full into the face of the grey time-traveller.
She was glaring. She was red with rage. At first Jherek did not realise that he was the object of that rage. He thought that when she recognised him, when she saw what he was wearing, her expression would soften.
But it grew harder.
"Has she had a translation pill yet?" he asked of Mongrove. But Mongrove was staring at him with a tinge of suspicion.
"Your costumes are very similar, Jherek."
"Yes," said Jherek. "I have already met the time-traveller. Last night. At the Duke of Queens'. I was so impressed by the costume that I made one for myself."
"I see." Mongrove's brow cleared a little.
"But what a coincidence," said Lord Jagged briskly. "We had no idea she was in your collection, Lord Mongrove. How extraordinary."
"Yes," said Mongrove quietly.
Jherek cleared his throat.
"I wonder…" began Mongrove.
Jherek turned to address the lady, making a low bow and saying courteously: "I trust you are well, madam, and that you can now understand me better."
"Understand! Understand!" The lady's voice was hysterical. She did not seem at all flattered. "I understand you to be a depraved, disgusting, corrupt and abominable thing , sir!"
Some of the words still meant nothing to Jherek. He smiled politely. "Perhaps another translation pill would…"
"You are the foulest creature I have ever encountered in my entire life," said the lady. "And now I am convinced that I have died and am in a more horrible Hell than any that Man could imagine. Oh, my sins must have been terrible when I lived."
"Hell?" said Mongrove, his interest awakened. "Are you from Hell?"
"Is that another name for the 19th century?" asked Lord Jagged. He seemed amused.
"There is much I can learn from you," said Mongrove, eagerly. "How glad I am that it was I who claimed you."
"What is your name?" said Jherek wildly, completely taken aback by her reaction.
She drew herself up, her lip curling in disdain as she eyed him from head to toe.
"My name, sir, is Mrs. Amelia Underwood and, if this is not Hell, but some dreadful foreign land, I demand that I be allowed to speak to the British Consul at once!"
Jherek looked up at Mongrove and Mongrove looked down in astonishment at Jherek.
"She is one of the strangest I have ever acquired," said Mongrove.
"I will take her off your hands," said Jherek.
"No, no," said Mongrove, "though the thought is kind. No, I think I will enjoy studying her." He turned his attention back to Mrs. Underwood, speaking politely. "How hot would you like the flames?"
6. A Pleasing Meeting: The Iron Orchid Devises a Scheme
7. To Steal a Space-Traveller
"Perhaps another time, then," said Mongrove politely, though it seemed he was a trifle disappointed. "Snout is one of my favourites. Or is it Snort? But I had better resist the temptation, too. Jherek?"
Jherek reached for the nearest dish. "This looks tasty."
"Well, tasty is not the word I'd choose." Mongrove uttered a strange, humourless laugh. "Very little Plague Century food was that. Indeed, taste is not the criterion I apply in planning my meals…"
"No, no," nodded Jherek. "I meant it looked — um…"
"Diseased?" suggested Lord Jagged, munching his new choice (very little different in appearance from the Snout or Snort he had rejected) with every apparent relish.
Jherek looked at Mongrove, who nodded his approval of Lord Jagged's description.
"Yes," said Jherek in a small, strangled voice. "Diseased."
"It was. But it will do you no great harm. They had slightly different metabolisms, as you can imagine." Mongrove pushed the dish towards Jherek. In it was some kind of greenish vegetable in a brown, murky sauce. "Help yourself."
Jherek ladled the smallest possible amount on to his plate.
"More," said Mongrove, munching. "Have more. There's plenty."
"More," whispered Jherek, and heaped another spoonful or two from the dish to his plate.
He had never had much of an appetite for crude food at the best of times, preferring more direct (and invisible) means of sustaining himself. And this was the most ghastly crude food he had ever seen in his entire life.
He began to wish that he had suggested they have the Turyian dungwhale, after all.
At last the ordeal ended and Mongrove got up, wiping his lips.
Jherek, who had been concentrating on controlling his spasms as he forced the food down his throat, noticed that while Lord Jagged had eaten with every sign of heartiness he had actually consumed very little. He must get Jagged to teach him that trick.
"And now," said Mongrove, "my menagerie awaits us." He looked with despondent kindness upon Jherek, who had not yet risen. "Are you unwell? Perhaps the food was more diseased than it should have been?"
"Perhaps," said Jherek, pressing his palms on the wood of the table and pushing his body upright.
"Do you feel dizzy?" asked Mongrove, grasping Jherek's elbow to support him.
"A little."
"Are there pains in the stomach? Have you a stomach?"
"I think I have. There are a few small pains."
"Hmm." Mongrove frowned. "Maybe we should make the tour another day."
"No, no," said Jagged. "Jherek will appreciate things all the more if he is feeling a little low. He enjoys feeling low. It brings him closer to a true understanding of the essential pain of human existence. Doesn't it, Jherek?"
Jherek moved his head up and down in assent. He could not quite bring himself to speak to Lord Jagged at that moment.
"Very good," said Mongrove, propelling Jherek forward. "Very good. I wish that we had settled our differences much earlier, gentle Jherek. I can see now how much I have misunderstood you."
And Jherek, while Mongrove's attention was diverted, darted a look of pure hatred at his friend Lord Jagged.
He had recovered a little by the time they left the courtyard and plodded through the rain to the first menagerie building. Here Mongrove kept his collection of bacteria; his viruses, his cancers — all magnified by screens, some of which measured nearly an eighth of a mile across. Mongrove seemed to have an affinity with plagues.
"Some of these illnesses are more than a million years old," he said proudly. "Brought by time-travellers, mostly. Others come from all over the universe. We have missed a lot, you know, my friends, by not having diseases of our own."
He paused before one of the larger screens. Here were examples of how the bacteria infected the creatures from which they had originally been taken.
A bearlike alien writhed in agony as his flesh bubbled and burst.
A reptilian space-traveller sat and watched with bleary eyes as his webbed hands and feet grew small tentacles which gradually wrapped themselves around the rest of his body and strangled him.
"I sometimes wonder if we, the most imaginative of creatures, lack a certain kind of imagination," murmured Lord Jagged to Jherek as they paused to look at the poor reptile.
Elsewhere a floral intelligence was attacked by a fungus which gradually ate at its beautiful blossoms and turned its stems to dry twigs.
There were hundreds of them. They were all so interesting that Jherek began to forget his own qualms and left Jagged behind as he strode beside Mongrove, asking questions and, often, giving close attention to the answers.
Lord Jagged was inclined to linger, examining this specimen, exclaiming about that one, and was late in following them when they left the Bacteria House and entered the Fluctuant House.
Here was a wide variety of creatures which could change shape or colour at will. Each creature was allowed a large space of its own in which its environment had been recreated in absolute detail. The environments were not separated by walls but by unseen force fields, each environment phasing tastefully into another. Most of the fluctuants were not indigenous to Earth at any period in her history (save for a few primitive chameleons, offapeckers and the like) but were drawn from many distant planets beyond the Solar System. Virtually all were intelligent, especially the mimics.
As the three people walked through the various environments, protected from attack by their own force shields, creature after creature encountered them and changed shape, mimicking crudely or perfectly either Jherek, or Jagged, or Mongrove. Some changed shape so swiftly (from Jagged, say, to Mongrove, to Jherek) that Jherek himself began to feel quite strange.
The Human House was next and it was in this that Jherek hoped to find the woman he intended to love.
The Human House was the largest in the menagerie and whereas many of the other houses were stocked from different areas of space, this was stocked from different ages in Earth's history. The house stretched for several square miles and, like the Fluctuant House, its environments were phased into each other (in chronological order), recreating different habitats from many periods. In the broader categories were represented Neanderthal Man, Piltdown Man, Religious Man and Scientific Man and there were, of course, many sub-divisions.
"I have here," said Mongrove, almost animatedly, "men and women from virtually every major period in our history."
He paused. "Have you, my friends, any particular interest? The Phradracean Tyrannies, possibly?" He indicated the environment in which they now stood. The houses were square, sandy blocks, standing on a sand-coloured concrete. The representative of this age was wearing a garment (if it was a garment) of similar material and colour, also square. His head and limbs projected rather incongruously from it and he looked a comical sight as he walked about shouting at the three men in his own language and waving his fists. He nonetheless kept a safe distance.
"He seems angry," said Lord Jagged, watching him with quizzical amusement.
"It was an angry age," said Mongrove. "Like so many."
They passed through that environment and through several more before Mongrove stopped again.
"Or the glorious Irish Empire," he said. "Five hundred years of the most marvellous Celtic Twilight, covering forty planets. This is the guinness, or ruler, himself."
They were in an environment of lush green grass and soft light in which stood a two-storey building in wood and stone with a sign hanging from it. Outside the building, on a wooden bench, sat a handsome, red-faced individual dressed in a rather strange dun-coloured garment which was belted tightly at the waist and had a collar turned up to shade the face. On the head was a soft brown hat with a brim turned down over the eyes. In one hand was a pot of dark liquid on which floated a thick, white scum. The man raised this pot frequently to his lips and drained it, whereupon it instantly filled again, to the man's constant, smiling delight. He sang all the time, too, a lugubrious dirge-like melody, which seemed to please him, though sometimes he would lower his head and weep.
"He can be so sad," said Mongrove admiringly. "He laughs, he sings, but the sadness fills him. He is one of my favourites."
They moved on, through examples of the prehistoric Greek Golden Age, the British Renaissance, the Corinian Republican era, the Imperial American Confederation, the Mexican Overlordship, the Yulinish Emperors, the Twelve Planet Union, the Thirty Planet Union, the Anarchic States, the Cool Theocracy, the Dark Green Council, the Farajite Warlord period, the Herodian Empire, the Gienic Empire, the Sugar Dictatorship, the Sonic Assassination period, the time of the Invisible Mark (most peculiar of many similar periods), the Rope Girl age, the First, Second and Third Paternalisms, the Ship Cultures, the Engineering Millennium, the age of the Planet Builders and hundreds more.
And all the time Jherek looked about him for a sign of the grey time-traveller while, mechanically, he praised Mongrove's collection, leaving most of the expressions of awe and delight to Lord Jagged, who deliberately drew attention away from Jherek.
And yet it was Mongrove who pointed her out first as they entered an environment somewhat barer than the rest.
"And here is the latest addition to my collection. I'm very proud to have acquired her, but as yet she will not tell me what to build so that she may be happy in a habitat which suits her best."
Jherek turned and looked full into the face of the grey time-traveller.
She was glaring. She was red with rage. At first Jherek did not realise that he was the object of that rage. He thought that when she recognised him, when she saw what he was wearing, her expression would soften.
But it grew harder.
"Has she had a translation pill yet?" he asked of Mongrove. But Mongrove was staring at him with a tinge of suspicion.
"Your costumes are very similar, Jherek."
"Yes," said Jherek. "I have already met the time-traveller. Last night. At the Duke of Queens'. I was so impressed by the costume that I made one for myself."
"I see." Mongrove's brow cleared a little.
"But what a coincidence," said Lord Jagged briskly. "We had no idea she was in your collection, Lord Mongrove. How extraordinary."
"Yes," said Mongrove quietly.
Jherek cleared his throat.
"I wonder…" began Mongrove.
Jherek turned to address the lady, making a low bow and saying courteously: "I trust you are well, madam, and that you can now understand me better."
"Understand! Understand!" The lady's voice was hysterical. She did not seem at all flattered. "I understand you to be a depraved, disgusting, corrupt and abominable thing , sir!"
Some of the words still meant nothing to Jherek. He smiled politely. "Perhaps another translation pill would…"
"You are the foulest creature I have ever encountered in my entire life," said the lady. "And now I am convinced that I have died and am in a more horrible Hell than any that Man could imagine. Oh, my sins must have been terrible when I lived."
"Hell?" said Mongrove, his interest awakened. "Are you from Hell?"
"Is that another name for the 19th century?" asked Lord Jagged. He seemed amused.
"There is much I can learn from you," said Mongrove, eagerly. "How glad I am that it was I who claimed you."
"What is your name?" said Jherek wildly, completely taken aback by her reaction.
She drew herself up, her lip curling in disdain as she eyed him from head to toe.
"My name, sir, is Mrs. Amelia Underwood and, if this is not Hell, but some dreadful foreign land, I demand that I be allowed to speak to the British Consul at once!"
Jherek looked up at Mongrove and Mongrove looked down in astonishment at Jherek.
"She is one of the strangest I have ever acquired," said Mongrove.
"I will take her off your hands," said Jherek.
"No, no," said Mongrove, "though the thought is kind. No, I think I will enjoy studying her." He turned his attention back to Mrs. Underwood, speaking politely. "How hot would you like the flames?"
6. A Pleasing Meeting: The Iron Orchid Devises a Scheme
Having successfully convinced melancholy Mongrove that flames would not be the best environment for the grey time-traveller and having made one or two alternative suggestions based on his own detailed knowledge of the period, Jherek decided that it was time to offer his adieux. Mongrove was still inclined to dart at him the odd suspicious glance; Mrs. Amelia Underwood was plainly in no mood at the moment to receive his declarations of love and, it seemed to him, Lord Jagged was becoming bored and wanting to leave.
Mongrove escorted them from the Human House and back to where the gold and ebony locomotive awaited them, its colours clashing horribly with the blacks, dark greens and muddy browns of Mongrove's lair.
"Well," said Mongrove, "thank you for your advice, Jherek, I think my new specimen should settle down soon. Of course, some creatures are inclined to pine, no matter how much care you take of them. Some die and have to be resurrected and sent back to where they came from."
"If there's any further help I can give…" murmured Jherek anxiously, horrified at the idea.
"I shall ask for it of course." There was perhaps a trace of coolness in Mongrove's tone.
"Or if I can spend some time with…"
"You have been," said Lord Jagged of Canaria, posing above them on the footplate, "a gracious host, and gigantic, Mongrove, in your generosity. I'll remember how much you would like to add that gloomy space-traveller to your collection. I'll try to acquire him for you in some way. Would you, incidentally, be interested in making a trade?"
"A trade?" Mongrove shrugged. "Yes, why not? But what for? What have I worth offering?"
"Oh, I thought I'd take the 19th century specimen off your hands," Jagged said airily. "I honestly don't think you'll have much joy from it. Also, there is someone to whom it would make a suitable gift."
"Jherek?" Mongrove was alert. "Is that whom you mean?" He turned his huge head to look soulfully at Jherek, who was pretending that he hadn't been listening to the conversation.
"Ah, now," said Lord Jagged, "that would not be tactful, would it, Mongrove, to reveal?"
"I suppose it wouldn't." Mongrove gave a great sniff. The rain ran down his face and soaked his dull, shapeless garments. "But you would never get My Lady Charlotina to give up her alien. So there is no point to this discussion."
"It might be possible," said Lord Jagged. The lizard circlet on his head hissed its complaint at the soaking it was receiving. He ducked back into the cabin of the locomotive. "Are you coming, Jherek?"
Jherek bowed to Mongrove. "You have been very kind, Mongrove. I am glad we understand each other better now."
Mongrove's eyes narrowed as he watched Jherek drift up to the footplate. "Yes," said the giant, "I am glad of that, too, Jherek."
"And you will be pleased to make the trade?" said Jagged. "If I can bring you the alien?"
Mongrove pursed his enormous lips. "If you can bring me the alien, you may have the time-traveller."
"It's a bargain!" said Lord Jagged gaily. "I shall bring him to you shortly."
And at last Mongrove found it in himself to voice his suspicions. "Lord Jagged. Did you come here with the specific desire to acquire my new specimen?"
Lord Jagged laughed. "So that is why your manner has seemed reserved! It was bothering me, Mongrove, for I felt I had offended you in some way."
"But is that the reason?" Mongrove continued insistently. He turned to Jherek. "Have you been deceiving me, pretending to be my friends, while all the time it was your intention to take my specimen away from me?"
"I am shocked!"
Lord Jagged drew himself up in a swirl of draperies.
"Shocked, Mongrove."
Jherek could not restrain a grin as he marvelled at Lord Jagged's histrionic powers. But then Lord Jagged turned his grim frown upon Jherek, too.
"And why do you smile, Jherek Carnelian? Do you believe Mongrove? Do you think that I brought you with me on a mere pretence — that my intention was not to heal the rift between you?"
"No," said Jherek, casting down his eyes and trying to rid himself of the unwelcome grin. "I am sorry, Lord Jagged."
"And I am sorry, too." Mongrove's lips trembled. "I have wronged you both. Forgive me."
"Of course, most miserable of Mongroves," said Lord Jagged kindly. "Of course! Of course! Of course! You were right to be suspicious. Your collection is the envy of the planet. Each one of your specimens in a gem. Remain cautious! There are others, less scrupulous than myself or Jherek Carnelian, who would deceive you."
"How unkind I have been. How ungenerous. How ill-mannered. How mean-spirited!" Mongrove groaned. "What a wretch I am, Lord Jagged. Now I hate myself. And now you see me for what I am, you will despise me forever!"
"Despise? Never! Your prudence is admirable. I admire it. I admire you. And now, dearest Mongrove, we must leave. Perhaps I will return with the specimen you desire. In a day or so."
"You are more than gracious. Farewell, Lord Jagged. Farewell, Jherek. Please feel free to visit me whenever you wish. Though I realise I am poor company and that therefore you will have little inclination to…"
"Farewell, weeping Mongrove!" Jherek pulled the whistle and the train made a mournful noise — a kind of despairing honk — before it began to ascend slowly into the drooping day.
Lord Jagged had resumed his position on the couch. His eyes were closed, his face expressionless. Jherek turned from where he stood looking through the observation window. "Lord Jagged, you are a model of deviousness."
"Come now, my cunning Carnelian," murmured Lord Jagged, his eyes still shut, "you, too, show a fine talent in that direction."
"Poor Mongrove. How neatly his suspicion was turned." Jherek sat down beside his friend. "But how are we to acquire Mrs. Amelia Underwood? The Lady Charlotina might not hate Mongrove, but she is jealous of her treasures. She will not give the little alien to us."
"Then we must steal him, eh?" Jagged opened his pale eyes and there was a mischievous ecstacy shining from them. "We shall be thieves , Jherek, you and I."
The idea was so astonishing that it took Jherek a while to understand its implications. And then he laughed in delight. "You are so inventive, Lord Jagged! And it fits so well!"
"It does. Mad with love, you will go to any lengths to have possession of the object of that love. All other considerations — friendship, prestige, dignity — are swept aside. I see you like it." Lord Jagged put a slender finger to his lips, which now bore just a trace of a smile. "What a succulent drama we are beginning to build. Ah, Jherek, my dear, you were born — for love! "
"Hm," said Jherek, without rancour, "I am beginning to suspect that I was born so that you might be supplied with raw materials with which to exercise your own considerable literary gifts, my lord."
"You flatter, flatter, flatter me!"
Later a voice spoke gently in Jherek's ear. "My son, my ruby! Is that your aircar?"
Jherek recognised the voice of the Iron Orchid. "Yes, mother, it is. And where are you?"
"Below you, dear."
He got up and looked down. On a chequered landscape of blue, purple and yellow, flat, save for a few crystal trees dotted here and there, he could make out two figures. He looked at Jagged. "Do you mind if we pause a while?"
"Not at all."
Jherek ordered the locomotive to descend and was standing on the footplate by the time it landed in one of the orange squares, measuring about twelve feet across and made of tightly packed tiny shamrocks. In the neighbouring square, a green one, sat the Iron Orchid with Li Pao upon her knee. Even as Jherek lowered himself from his car the colours of the squares changed again.
"I just can't make up my mind, today," she explained. "Can you help me, Jherek?"
She had always had a predilection for fur and now a fine, golden down covered her body, save for her face which she had coloured to match Li Pao's. Li Pao wore the same blue overalls as usual and seemed embarrassed. He tried to get off the Iron Orchid's furry knee, but she held him firmly. She was seated in a beautiful, shimmering force chair. Bluebirds wheeled and dipped just above her head.
The chequered plain stretched away for a mile on all sides. Jherek contemplated it. His mind was occupied with other matters and he found it difficult to offer advice. At last he said: "I think any arrangement that you make is perfect, most ornamental of Orchids. Good afternoon, Li Pao."
"Good afternoon," said Li Pao rather distantly. Although a member of the Duke of Queens' menagerie, he chose to wander abroad most of the time. Jherek thought that Li Pao didn't really like the austere environment which the Duke of Queens had created for him, though Li Pao claimed that it was all he really needed. Li Pao looked beyond Jherek. "I see you have your decadent friend, Lord Jagged, with you."
Lord Jagged acknowledged Li Pao with a bow that set all his lilac robes a-flutter and made the living lizard rear upon his brow and snap its teeth. Then Lord Jagged took one of the Iron Orchid's fur-covered hands and pressed it to his lips. "Softest of beasts," he murmured. He stroked her shoulder. "Prettiest of pelts."
Li Pao got up. He was sulking. He stood some distance off and pretended an interest in a crystal tree. The Iron Orchid laughed, her hand encircling the back of Lord Jagged's neck and pulling his head down to kiss his lizard upon its serrated snout.
Leaving them to their ritual, Jherek joined Li Pao beside the tree. "We have just returned from Mongrove's. Aren't you a friend of his?"
Li Pao nodded. "Something of a friend. We have one or two ideas in common. But I suspect that Mongrove's views are not always his own. Not always sincere."
"Mongrove? There is nobody less insincere."
"In this world? Perhaps not. But the fact remains…" Li Pao flicked a silver crystal fruit and it emitted a single pure, sweet note for two seconds before falling silent again. "I mean, it is not a great deal to say of someone native to your society."
"Aha!" said Jherek portentously. He had not actually been listening. "I have tumbled, Li Pao, in love," he announced. "I am desperately in love — mindlessly in love — with a girl."
"You don't know the meaning of love," Li Pao replied dismissively. "Love involves dedication, self-denial, nobility of temperament. All of them qualities which you people no longer possess. Is this another of your frightful travesties? Why are you dressed like that? What ghosts you are. What pathetic fantasies you pursue. You play mindless games, without purpose or meaning, while the universe dies around you."
"I am sure that's true," said Jherek politely. "But if it is, Li Pao, why do you not return to your own time? It is difficult, but not impossible."
"It is virtually impossible. You must surely have heard of the Morphail Effect. One can go back in time, certainly — perhaps for a few minutes at most. No scientist in the Earth's long history has ever been able to solve that problem. But — even if there was a good chance of my remaining there once I had returned — what could I tell my people? That all their work, their self-sacrifice, their idealism, their establishment of justice, finally led to the creation of your putrid world? I would be a monster if I tried. Would I describe your over-ripe and rotting technologies, your foul sexual practices, your degenerate bourgeois pastimes at which you idle away the centuries? No!"
Li Pao's eyes shone as he warmed to his theme and felt the full power of his own heroism surging through him.
"No! It is my lot to remain a prisoner here. My self-appointed lot. My sacrifice. It is my duty to warn you of the consequences of your decadent behaviour. My duty to try to steer you on to straighter paths, to consider more serious matters, before it is too late!" He paused, panting and proud.
"And meanwhile," came the languid tones of the Iron Orchid as she approached, hanging on to the arm of Lord Jagged, who raised a complimentary eyebrow at Li Pao, "it is also your lot, Li Pao, to entertain your Orchid, to pleasure her, to adore her (as I know you do) and most caustic of critics, to sweeten her days with your fine displays of emotion."
"Oh, you are wicked! You are imperialistic! You are vile!" Li Pao stalked away.
"But mark my words," he said over his shoulder, "the apocalypse is not that far away. You will wish, Iron Orchid, that you had not made sport of me."
"What dark, dark hints! Does Li Pao love you?" asked Lord Jagged. There was a speculative expression on his white features. He glanced sardonically at Jherek. "Perhaps he can teach you a few responses, my novice?"
"Perhaps." Jherek yawned. The strain of his visit to Mongrove had tried him a bit.
"Why?" The Iron Orchid stared with interest at her son. "Are you learning 'jealousy' now, blood of my blood? Instead of virtue? Isn't jealousy what Li Pao is doing now?"
Jherek had forgotten his craze of the day before.
"I believe so," he replied. "Perhaps I should cultivate Li Pao. Isn't jealousy one of the components of true love, Lord Jagged?"
"You know more of the details of the period than I, joyful Jherek. All I have helped you do is to put them into a context ."
"And a splendid context, too," Jherek added. He looked after the departing Li Pao.
"Come now, Jherek," said his mother, laying down her sleekness upon a padded couch and dismissing the cheque-red field (it had been awful, thought Jherek). The field became a desert. The bluebirds became eagles. Not far off a clump of palms sprang up beside a waterhole. The Iron Orchid pretended not to notice that the oasis had appeared directly beneath where Li Pao had been standing. The Chinese was now glowering at her. All that could be seen above the surface of the water was his head. "What," she continued, "is this game you and Lord Jagged have invented?"
"Mother, I'm in love with such a wonderful girl," began Jherek.
"Ah!" She sighed with delight.
"My heart sings when I see her, mother. My pulse throbs when I think of her. My life means nothing when she's not there."
"Charming!"
"And, dear mother, she is everything that a girl should be. She's beautiful, intelligent, understanding, imaginative, cruel. And, mother, I mean to marry her!"
Exhausted by his performance, Jherek fell back upon the sand.
The Iron Orchid clapped her hands enthusiastically. It was a somewhat muffled clap, because of the fur.
"Admirable!" She blew him a kiss. "Jherek, my doll, you are a genius! No other description will do!" She leaned forward. "Now. The background?"
And Jherek explained all that had happened since he had last seen his mother, and all that he and Jagged had planned — including the Theft.
"Luscious," she said. "So we must somehow steal the dreary alien from My Lady Charlotina. She'd never give it away. I know her. You're right. A difficult task." She looked at the oasis, crying petulantly: "Oh, Li Pao, do come out of there."
Li Pao scowled across the water. He refused to speak. His body remained submerged.
"That's why I'm so attached to him, really," the Iron Orchid explained. "He sulks so prettily." She rested her chin upon her furry fist and considered the problem at hand.
Jherek looked about him, contemplating the enterprise afresh and wondering if it were not becoming too complicated. Too boring even. Perhaps he should invent a simpler affectation. Being in love took up so much time .
At last the Iron Orchid looked up. "The first thing we must do is visit My Lady Charlotina. A large group of us. As many as possible. We shall make merry. The party will be exciting, confused. While it is at its height, we steal the alien. We shall have to decide the actual method of theft when we are there. I don't remember how her menagerie is arranged, and anyway it has probably changed since I visited her last. What do you think, Jagged?"
"I think that you are the genius, my blossom, from which this genius sprang." Grinning, Lord Jagged put his arm around Jherek's grey-clad shoulders. "Most fragrant of flowers it is an excellent notion. But none should be aware of our true intent. We three alone shall plan the robbery. The others will, unknowingly, cover our attempt. Do you agree, Jherek?"
"I agree. What a complimentary pair you are. You praise me for your own cleverness. You credit me with your inventiveness. I — I am merely your tool."
"Nonsense." Lord Jagged closed his eyes as if in modesty. "You sketch out the grand design. We are merely your pupils — we block out the less interesting details of the canvas."
The Iron Orchid stretched out her paw to stroke Lord Jagged's lizard, which had become dormant and was almost asleep. "Our friends must be fired with the idea of visiting My Lady Charlotina. We can only trust that she is at home. And that she welcomes us. Then," she laughed her delicate laugh, "we must hope we are not detected in our deceit. Before the theft's accomplished, at least. And the consequences! Can you imagine the complications which are bound to arise? You remember, Jherek, we were hoping for another series of events to rival that which followed Flags?"
"This should easily rival Flags," said Lord Jagged. "It makes me feel young again."
"Were you ever young , Jagged?" asked the Iron Orchid in surprise.
"Well, you know what I mean," he said.
Mongrove escorted them from the Human House and back to where the gold and ebony locomotive awaited them, its colours clashing horribly with the blacks, dark greens and muddy browns of Mongrove's lair.
"Well," said Mongrove, "thank you for your advice, Jherek, I think my new specimen should settle down soon. Of course, some creatures are inclined to pine, no matter how much care you take of them. Some die and have to be resurrected and sent back to where they came from."
"If there's any further help I can give…" murmured Jherek anxiously, horrified at the idea.
"I shall ask for it of course." There was perhaps a trace of coolness in Mongrove's tone.
"Or if I can spend some time with…"
"You have been," said Lord Jagged of Canaria, posing above them on the footplate, "a gracious host, and gigantic, Mongrove, in your generosity. I'll remember how much you would like to add that gloomy space-traveller to your collection. I'll try to acquire him for you in some way. Would you, incidentally, be interested in making a trade?"
"A trade?" Mongrove shrugged. "Yes, why not? But what for? What have I worth offering?"
"Oh, I thought I'd take the 19th century specimen off your hands," Jagged said airily. "I honestly don't think you'll have much joy from it. Also, there is someone to whom it would make a suitable gift."
"Jherek?" Mongrove was alert. "Is that whom you mean?" He turned his huge head to look soulfully at Jherek, who was pretending that he hadn't been listening to the conversation.
"Ah, now," said Lord Jagged, "that would not be tactful, would it, Mongrove, to reveal?"
"I suppose it wouldn't." Mongrove gave a great sniff. The rain ran down his face and soaked his dull, shapeless garments. "But you would never get My Lady Charlotina to give up her alien. So there is no point to this discussion."
"It might be possible," said Lord Jagged. The lizard circlet on his head hissed its complaint at the soaking it was receiving. He ducked back into the cabin of the locomotive. "Are you coming, Jherek?"
Jherek bowed to Mongrove. "You have been very kind, Mongrove. I am glad we understand each other better now."
Mongrove's eyes narrowed as he watched Jherek drift up to the footplate. "Yes," said the giant, "I am glad of that, too, Jherek."
"And you will be pleased to make the trade?" said Jagged. "If I can bring you the alien?"
Mongrove pursed his enormous lips. "If you can bring me the alien, you may have the time-traveller."
"It's a bargain!" said Lord Jagged gaily. "I shall bring him to you shortly."
And at last Mongrove found it in himself to voice his suspicions. "Lord Jagged. Did you come here with the specific desire to acquire my new specimen?"
Lord Jagged laughed. "So that is why your manner has seemed reserved! It was bothering me, Mongrove, for I felt I had offended you in some way."
"But is that the reason?" Mongrove continued insistently. He turned to Jherek. "Have you been deceiving me, pretending to be my friends, while all the time it was your intention to take my specimen away from me?"
"I am shocked!"
Lord Jagged drew himself up in a swirl of draperies.
"Shocked, Mongrove."
Jherek could not restrain a grin as he marvelled at Lord Jagged's histrionic powers. But then Lord Jagged turned his grim frown upon Jherek, too.
"And why do you smile, Jherek Carnelian? Do you believe Mongrove? Do you think that I brought you with me on a mere pretence — that my intention was not to heal the rift between you?"
"No," said Jherek, casting down his eyes and trying to rid himself of the unwelcome grin. "I am sorry, Lord Jagged."
"And I am sorry, too." Mongrove's lips trembled. "I have wronged you both. Forgive me."
"Of course, most miserable of Mongroves," said Lord Jagged kindly. "Of course! Of course! Of course! You were right to be suspicious. Your collection is the envy of the planet. Each one of your specimens in a gem. Remain cautious! There are others, less scrupulous than myself or Jherek Carnelian, who would deceive you."
"How unkind I have been. How ungenerous. How ill-mannered. How mean-spirited!" Mongrove groaned. "What a wretch I am, Lord Jagged. Now I hate myself. And now you see me for what I am, you will despise me forever!"
"Despise? Never! Your prudence is admirable. I admire it. I admire you. And now, dearest Mongrove, we must leave. Perhaps I will return with the specimen you desire. In a day or so."
"You are more than gracious. Farewell, Lord Jagged. Farewell, Jherek. Please feel free to visit me whenever you wish. Though I realise I am poor company and that therefore you will have little inclination to…"
"Farewell, weeping Mongrove!" Jherek pulled the whistle and the train made a mournful noise — a kind of despairing honk — before it began to ascend slowly into the drooping day.
Lord Jagged had resumed his position on the couch. His eyes were closed, his face expressionless. Jherek turned from where he stood looking through the observation window. "Lord Jagged, you are a model of deviousness."
"Come now, my cunning Carnelian," murmured Lord Jagged, his eyes still shut, "you, too, show a fine talent in that direction."
"Poor Mongrove. How neatly his suspicion was turned." Jherek sat down beside his friend. "But how are we to acquire Mrs. Amelia Underwood? The Lady Charlotina might not hate Mongrove, but she is jealous of her treasures. She will not give the little alien to us."
"Then we must steal him, eh?" Jagged opened his pale eyes and there was a mischievous ecstacy shining from them. "We shall be thieves , Jherek, you and I."
The idea was so astonishing that it took Jherek a while to understand its implications. And then he laughed in delight. "You are so inventive, Lord Jagged! And it fits so well!"
"It does. Mad with love, you will go to any lengths to have possession of the object of that love. All other considerations — friendship, prestige, dignity — are swept aside. I see you like it." Lord Jagged put a slender finger to his lips, which now bore just a trace of a smile. "What a succulent drama we are beginning to build. Ah, Jherek, my dear, you were born — for love! "
"Hm," said Jherek, without rancour, "I am beginning to suspect that I was born so that you might be supplied with raw materials with which to exercise your own considerable literary gifts, my lord."
"You flatter, flatter, flatter me!"
Later a voice spoke gently in Jherek's ear. "My son, my ruby! Is that your aircar?"
Jherek recognised the voice of the Iron Orchid. "Yes, mother, it is. And where are you?"
"Below you, dear."
He got up and looked down. On a chequered landscape of blue, purple and yellow, flat, save for a few crystal trees dotted here and there, he could make out two figures. He looked at Jagged. "Do you mind if we pause a while?"
"Not at all."
Jherek ordered the locomotive to descend and was standing on the footplate by the time it landed in one of the orange squares, measuring about twelve feet across and made of tightly packed tiny shamrocks. In the neighbouring square, a green one, sat the Iron Orchid with Li Pao upon her knee. Even as Jherek lowered himself from his car the colours of the squares changed again.
"I just can't make up my mind, today," she explained. "Can you help me, Jherek?"
She had always had a predilection for fur and now a fine, golden down covered her body, save for her face which she had coloured to match Li Pao's. Li Pao wore the same blue overalls as usual and seemed embarrassed. He tried to get off the Iron Orchid's furry knee, but she held him firmly. She was seated in a beautiful, shimmering force chair. Bluebirds wheeled and dipped just above her head.
The chequered plain stretched away for a mile on all sides. Jherek contemplated it. His mind was occupied with other matters and he found it difficult to offer advice. At last he said: "I think any arrangement that you make is perfect, most ornamental of Orchids. Good afternoon, Li Pao."
"Good afternoon," said Li Pao rather distantly. Although a member of the Duke of Queens' menagerie, he chose to wander abroad most of the time. Jherek thought that Li Pao didn't really like the austere environment which the Duke of Queens had created for him, though Li Pao claimed that it was all he really needed. Li Pao looked beyond Jherek. "I see you have your decadent friend, Lord Jagged, with you."
Lord Jagged acknowledged Li Pao with a bow that set all his lilac robes a-flutter and made the living lizard rear upon his brow and snap its teeth. Then Lord Jagged took one of the Iron Orchid's fur-covered hands and pressed it to his lips. "Softest of beasts," he murmured. He stroked her shoulder. "Prettiest of pelts."
Li Pao got up. He was sulking. He stood some distance off and pretended an interest in a crystal tree. The Iron Orchid laughed, her hand encircling the back of Lord Jagged's neck and pulling his head down to kiss his lizard upon its serrated snout.
Leaving them to their ritual, Jherek joined Li Pao beside the tree. "We have just returned from Mongrove's. Aren't you a friend of his?"
Li Pao nodded. "Something of a friend. We have one or two ideas in common. But I suspect that Mongrove's views are not always his own. Not always sincere."
"Mongrove? There is nobody less insincere."
"In this world? Perhaps not. But the fact remains…" Li Pao flicked a silver crystal fruit and it emitted a single pure, sweet note for two seconds before falling silent again. "I mean, it is not a great deal to say of someone native to your society."
"Aha!" said Jherek portentously. He had not actually been listening. "I have tumbled, Li Pao, in love," he announced. "I am desperately in love — mindlessly in love — with a girl."
"You don't know the meaning of love," Li Pao replied dismissively. "Love involves dedication, self-denial, nobility of temperament. All of them qualities which you people no longer possess. Is this another of your frightful travesties? Why are you dressed like that? What ghosts you are. What pathetic fantasies you pursue. You play mindless games, without purpose or meaning, while the universe dies around you."
"I am sure that's true," said Jherek politely. "But if it is, Li Pao, why do you not return to your own time? It is difficult, but not impossible."
"It is virtually impossible. You must surely have heard of the Morphail Effect. One can go back in time, certainly — perhaps for a few minutes at most. No scientist in the Earth's long history has ever been able to solve that problem. But — even if there was a good chance of my remaining there once I had returned — what could I tell my people? That all their work, their self-sacrifice, their idealism, their establishment of justice, finally led to the creation of your putrid world? I would be a monster if I tried. Would I describe your over-ripe and rotting technologies, your foul sexual practices, your degenerate bourgeois pastimes at which you idle away the centuries? No!"
Li Pao's eyes shone as he warmed to his theme and felt the full power of his own heroism surging through him.
"No! It is my lot to remain a prisoner here. My self-appointed lot. My sacrifice. It is my duty to warn you of the consequences of your decadent behaviour. My duty to try to steer you on to straighter paths, to consider more serious matters, before it is too late!" He paused, panting and proud.
"And meanwhile," came the languid tones of the Iron Orchid as she approached, hanging on to the arm of Lord Jagged, who raised a complimentary eyebrow at Li Pao, "it is also your lot, Li Pao, to entertain your Orchid, to pleasure her, to adore her (as I know you do) and most caustic of critics, to sweeten her days with your fine displays of emotion."
"Oh, you are wicked! You are imperialistic! You are vile!" Li Pao stalked away.
"But mark my words," he said over his shoulder, "the apocalypse is not that far away. You will wish, Iron Orchid, that you had not made sport of me."
"What dark, dark hints! Does Li Pao love you?" asked Lord Jagged. There was a speculative expression on his white features. He glanced sardonically at Jherek. "Perhaps he can teach you a few responses, my novice?"
"Perhaps." Jherek yawned. The strain of his visit to Mongrove had tried him a bit.
"Why?" The Iron Orchid stared with interest at her son. "Are you learning 'jealousy' now, blood of my blood? Instead of virtue? Isn't jealousy what Li Pao is doing now?"
Jherek had forgotten his craze of the day before.
"I believe so," he replied. "Perhaps I should cultivate Li Pao. Isn't jealousy one of the components of true love, Lord Jagged?"
"You know more of the details of the period than I, joyful Jherek. All I have helped you do is to put them into a context ."
"And a splendid context, too," Jherek added. He looked after the departing Li Pao.
"Come now, Jherek," said his mother, laying down her sleekness upon a padded couch and dismissing the cheque-red field (it had been awful, thought Jherek). The field became a desert. The bluebirds became eagles. Not far off a clump of palms sprang up beside a waterhole. The Iron Orchid pretended not to notice that the oasis had appeared directly beneath where Li Pao had been standing. The Chinese was now glowering at her. All that could be seen above the surface of the water was his head. "What," she continued, "is this game you and Lord Jagged have invented?"
"Mother, I'm in love with such a wonderful girl," began Jherek.
"Ah!" She sighed with delight.
"My heart sings when I see her, mother. My pulse throbs when I think of her. My life means nothing when she's not there."
"Charming!"
"And, dear mother, she is everything that a girl should be. She's beautiful, intelligent, understanding, imaginative, cruel. And, mother, I mean to marry her!"
Exhausted by his performance, Jherek fell back upon the sand.
The Iron Orchid clapped her hands enthusiastically. It was a somewhat muffled clap, because of the fur.
"Admirable!" She blew him a kiss. "Jherek, my doll, you are a genius! No other description will do!" She leaned forward. "Now. The background?"
And Jherek explained all that had happened since he had last seen his mother, and all that he and Jagged had planned — including the Theft.
"Luscious," she said. "So we must somehow steal the dreary alien from My Lady Charlotina. She'd never give it away. I know her. You're right. A difficult task." She looked at the oasis, crying petulantly: "Oh, Li Pao, do come out of there."
Li Pao scowled across the water. He refused to speak. His body remained submerged.
"That's why I'm so attached to him, really," the Iron Orchid explained. "He sulks so prettily." She rested her chin upon her furry fist and considered the problem at hand.
Jherek looked about him, contemplating the enterprise afresh and wondering if it were not becoming too complicated. Too boring even. Perhaps he should invent a simpler affectation. Being in love took up so much time .
At last the Iron Orchid looked up. "The first thing we must do is visit My Lady Charlotina. A large group of us. As many as possible. We shall make merry. The party will be exciting, confused. While it is at its height, we steal the alien. We shall have to decide the actual method of theft when we are there. I don't remember how her menagerie is arranged, and anyway it has probably changed since I visited her last. What do you think, Jagged?"
"I think that you are the genius, my blossom, from which this genius sprang." Grinning, Lord Jagged put his arm around Jherek's grey-clad shoulders. "Most fragrant of flowers it is an excellent notion. But none should be aware of our true intent. We three alone shall plan the robbery. The others will, unknowingly, cover our attempt. Do you agree, Jherek?"
"I agree. What a complimentary pair you are. You praise me for your own cleverness. You credit me with your inventiveness. I — I am merely your tool."
"Nonsense." Lord Jagged closed his eyes as if in modesty. "You sketch out the grand design. We are merely your pupils — we block out the less interesting details of the canvas."
The Iron Orchid stretched out her paw to stroke Lord Jagged's lizard, which had become dormant and was almost asleep. "Our friends must be fired with the idea of visiting My Lady Charlotina. We can only trust that she is at home. And that she welcomes us. Then," she laughed her delicate laugh, "we must hope we are not detected in our deceit. Before the theft's accomplished, at least. And the consequences! Can you imagine the complications which are bound to arise? You remember, Jherek, we were hoping for another series of events to rival that which followed Flags?"
"This should easily rival Flags," said Lord Jagged. "It makes me feel young again."
"Were you ever young , Jagged?" asked the Iron Orchid in surprise.
"Well, you know what I mean," he said.
7. To Steal a Space-Traveller
My Lady Charlotina had always preferred the subterranean existence.
Her territory of Below-the-Lake was not merely subterranean, it was subaqueous, too, in the truest sense. It was made up of mile upon mile of high, muggy caverns linked by tunnels and smaller caves, into which one might put whole cities and towns without difficulty. My Lady Charlotina had hollowed the whole place out herself, many years before, under the bed and following the contours of one of the few permanent lakes left on the planet.
This lake was, of course, Lake Billy the Kid.
Lake Billy the Kid was named after the legendary American explorer, astronaut and bon-vivant, who had been crucified around the year 2000 because it was discovered that he possessed the hindquarters of a goat. In Billy the Kid's time such permutations were apparently not fashionable.
Lake Billy the Kid was perhaps the most ancient landmark in the world. It had been moved only twice in the past fifty thousand years.
At Below-the-Lake, the revels were in full swing.
A hundred or so of My Lady Charlotina's closest friends had arrived to entertain their delighted (if surprised) hostess and themselves. The party was noisy. It was chaotic.
Jherek Carnelian had had no difficulty, in this atmosphere, in slipping away to the menagerie and at last discovering My Lady Charlotina's latest acquisition in one of the two or three thousand smaller caverns she used to house her specimens.
The cavern containing Yusharisp's environment was between one containing a flickering, hissing flame-creature (which had been discovered on the Sun, but had probably originally come from another star altogether) and another containing a microscopic dog-like alien from nearby Betelgeux.
Yusharisp's environment was rather dark and chilly. Its main feature was a pulsing, squeaking black and purple tower which was covered in a most unappealing kind of mould. The tower was doubtless what Yusharisp lived in on his home planet. Apart from the tower there was a profusion of drooping grey plants and jagged dark yellow rocks. The tower resembled the spaceship which My Lady Charlotina had had to disseminate (if it had disseminated, as such, being of unearthly origin).
Yusharisp sat on a rock outside his tower, his four little legs folded under his spherical body. Most of his eyes were closed, save one at the front and one at the back. He seemed lost in sullen thoughts and did not notice Jherek at first. Jherek adjusted one of his rings, broke the force-barrier for a second, and walked through.
"You're Yusharisp, aren't you?" said Jherek. "I came to say how interested I was in your speech of the other day."
All Yusharisp's eyes opened round his head. His body swayed a little so that for a moment Jherek thought it would roll off and bounce over the ground like a ball. Yusharisp's many eyes were filled with gloom. "You, skree, responded to it?' he said in a small, despairing voice.
"It was very pleasant," said Jherek vaguely, thinking that perhaps he had begun on the wrong tack. "Very pleasant indeed."
"Pleasant? Now I am completely confused." Yusharisp began to rise on the rock upon his four little legs. "You found what I had to say pleasant? "
Jherek realised he had not said the right thing. "I mean," he went on, "that it was pleasant to hear such sentiments expressed." He racked his brains to remember exactly what the alien had said. He knew the general drift of it. He had heard it many times before. It had been about the end of the universe or the end of the galaxy, or something like that. Very similar in tone to a lot of what Li Pao had to say. Was it because the people on Earth were not living according to the principles and customs currently fashionable on the alien's home planet? That was the usual message: "You do not live like us. Therefore you are going to die. It is inevitable. And it will be your own fault."
"Refreshing, I meant," said Jherek lamely.
"I see, skree, what you mean, skree." Mollified, the alien hopped from the rock and stood quite close to Jherek, his front row of eyes staring roundly up into Jherek's face.
"I am pleased that there are some serious-minded people on this planet," Yusharisp continued. "In all my travels I have never had such a reception. Most beings have been moved and (roar) saddened by my news. Some have accepted it with dignity, skree, and calm. Some have been angry to disbelieving, even attacked me. Some have not been moved at all, for death holds no fear for, skree, them. But, skree, on Earth (roar) I have been imprisoned and my spaceship has quite casually been destroyed! And no one has expressed regret, anger — anything but — what? — amusement. As if what I had to say was a joke. They do not take me seriously, yet they lock me in this cell as if I had, skree, committed some kind of crime (roar)! Can you explain?"
"Oh, yes," said Jherek. "My Lady Charlotina wanted you for her collection. You see, she hasn't got a space-traveller of your shape and size."
"Collection? This is a (roar) zoo , skree, then?"
"Of sorts. She hasn't explained? She can be a bit vague, My Lady Charlotina, I agree. But she has made you comfortable. Your own environment in all its details."
Jherek looked without enthusiasm at the drooping plants and dark yellow rocks, the mouldy tower sticking up into the chill air. It was easy to see why the alien had chosen to leave. "Nice."
Yusharisp turned away and began to waddle towards his tower. "It is useless. My translator is malfunctioning more than I realised. I cannot transmit my message properly. It is my fault, not yours. I deserve this."
"What exactly was the message," said Jherek. He saw a chance to find out without appearing to have forgotten. "Perhaps if you could repeat it I could tell you if I understood."
The alien appeared to brighten and walk backwards. The only difference between his back and his front, as far as Jherek could see, was that his mouth was in the front. The eyes looked exactly the same. He swivelled round so that his mouth aperture faced Jherek.
"Well," Yusharisp began, "basically what has happened is that the universe, having ceased to expand, is contracting. Our researches have shown that this is what always happens — expansion/contraction, expansion/contraction, expansion/contraction — the universe forming and re-forming all the time. Perhaps that formation is always the same — each cycle being more or less a repeat of the previous one — I don't know. Anyway that takes us into the realm of Time, not Space, and I know nothing at all of Time."
"An interesting theory," said Jherek, who found it somewhat boring.
"It is not a theory."
"Aha."
"The universe has begun to contract. As a result, skree, all matter not in a completely gaseous (roar) state already, will be destroyed as it is pulled into what you might call the central vortex of the universe. My own, skree, planet has already gone by now, I should think." The alien sighed a deep sigh. "It's a matter of millennia, perhaps even less time than that, before your galaxy goes the same way."
"There, there." Jherek patted the alien on the top part of its body. Yusharisp looked up, offended.
"This is (roar) no time for sexual advances, skree, my friend!"
Jherek took his hand away. "My apologies."
"At another time, perhaps…" Yusharisp's translator growled and moaned and he kept clearing his throat until it had stopped. "I am, I must admit, rather dispirited," he said. "A trifle on (roar) edge, as you might expect."
Jherek's plan (or at least an important part of it) now crystallised. He said:
"That is why I intend to help you escape from My Lady Charlotina's menagerie."
"You do? But the force-field and so on? The security must be, skree, very tight."
Jherek did not tell the alien that he could, if he wished, wander at large across the whole planet. The only intelligent creatures who remained in menageries remained there because they desired it. Jherek reasoned that it was best, for his purposes, if Yusharisp really did think he was a prisoner.
"I can deal with all that," he said airily.
"I am deeply grateful to you." One of the alien's brown, bandy legs rose and touched Jherek on the thigh. "I could not believe that every creature on this planet could be so, skree, skree, inhumane. But my spaceship? How will I escape from your world to continue my journey, to carry my message?"
"We'll cope with that problem later," Jherek assured him.
"Very, skree, well. I understand. You are risking so much already." The alien hopped eagerly about on his four legs. "Can we leave now? Or must secret preparations be made, skree?"
"The important thing is that you shouldn't be detected leaving by My Lady Charlotina," Jherek answered. "Therefore, I must ask you if you will object to a little restructuring. Temporary, of course. And not very sophisticated — there isn't time. I'll put you back to your original form before we go to Mongrove's…"
"Mon(roar)grove's?"
"Our, um, hideout. A friend. A sympathiser."
"And what, skree, is 'restructuring'?" Yusharisp's manner had become suspicious.
"A disguise," said Jherek. "I must alter your body."
"A skree — a skree — a skree — a trick . Another cruel trick! (roar)" The alien became agitated and made as if to run into his tower. Jherek could see why Mongrove had seen a fellow spirit in Yusharisp. They would get on splendidly.
"Not a trick upon you. Upon the woman who has imprisoned you here."
Yusharisp calmed down, but a score of his eyes were darting from side to side, crossing in an alarming manner.
"And what (roar) then? Where will you take, skree, me?"
"To Mongrove's. He sympathises with your plight. He wishes to listen to all you have to say. He is perhaps the one person on the planet (apart, of course, from myself ) who really understands what you are trying to do."
Perhaps, thought Jherek, he was not deceiving the alien, after all. It was quite likely that Mongrove would want to help Yusharisp when he heard the whole of the little fellow's story. "Now —" Jherek fiddled with one of his rings. "If you will allow me…"
"Very well," said the alien, seeming to slump in resignation. "After all, there is, skree, nothing more (roar) to lose, is there?"
"Jherek! Sweet child. Child of nature. Son of the Earth! Over here!"
My Lady Charlotina, surrounded by many of her guests, including the Iron Orchid and Lord Jagged of Canaria (who were both working hard to keep her attention) waved to Jherek.
Jherek and Yusharisp (his body restructured to resemble that of an apeman) moved through a throng of laughing guests in one of the main caverns, close to the Gateway in the Water through which Jherek hoped to make his escape.
This cavern had glowing golden walls and a roof and floor of mirrored silver so that it seemed that everything took place simultaneously a hundred times upon the floor and the ceiling of the cavern. My Lady Charlotina floated in a force-hammock while the dwarfish scientist, Brannart Morphail, lay gasping between her knees. Morphail was perhaps the last true scientist on Earth, experimenting in the only possible field left for such a person — the field of time-manipulation. Morphail raised his head as My Lady Charlotina signalled Jherek. Morphail peered through ragged tufts of white, yellow and blue hair. He licked red lips surrounded by a tattered beard of orange and black. His dark eyes glowered, as if he blamed Jherek for the interrupted intercourse.
Jherek had to acknowledge her. He bowed, smiled and tried to think of some polite phrase on which to leave.
My Lady Charlotina was naked. All four of her latest breasts were tinted gold with silver nipples to match her cavern's decor. Her body was rose-pink and radiated softness and comfort. Her long, thin face, with its sharp nose and pointed chin, was embroidered in threads of scintillating light-thread which shifted colour constantly and sometimes appeared to alter the whole outline of her features.
Jherek, with the alien clinging nervously to him with one of its feet, tried to move on but then had to pause to instruct the alien, in a whisper, to use one of the upper appendages if it wished to hold to him at all. He was afraid My Lady Charlotina had already detected his theft.
Yusharisp looked as if he were about to bolt now. Jherek laid a restraining hand on the alien's new body.
"Who is that with you?"
My Lady Charlotina's embroidered face was, for a moment, scarlet all over.
"Is that a time-traveller?" Her force-hammock began to drift towards Jherek and Yusharisp. The sudden motion threw Brannart Morphail to the floor of the cavern. Moodily, he lay where he had fallen, looking at himself in the mirrored surface and refusing the proffered hands of both Lord Jagged of Canaria and the Iron Orchid. They stood near him, trying not to look at Jherek who, in turn, tried to ignore them. An exchange of glances at this stage might easily make My Lady Charlotina that much more suspicious.
"Yes," said Jherek quickly. "A time-traveller."
At this, Brannart Morphail looked up.
"He recently arrived. I found him. He'll be the basis of what will be my new collection."
"Oh, so you are to vie with me? I must watch you, Jherek. You're so clever ."
"Yes, you must watch. My collection, though, will never match yours, my charming Charlotina."
"Have you seen my new space-traveller?" She cast her eyes over the alien as she spoke.
"Yes. Yesterday, I think. Or the day before. Very fine."
"Thank you. This is an odd specimen. Are you sure it's genuine, dear?"
"Oh, yes. Absolutely."
Jherek had given him the form of a pre-10th century, or Piltdown, Man. He was apelike, somewhat shaggy and inclined (because of Yusharisp's normal method of perambulation) to drop to all fours. He was dressed in animal skins and (an authentic touch) carried a pistol (a club with a metal handle and a blunt, wooden end).
"He didn't, surely, come in his own machine?" said My Lady Charlotina.
Her territory of Below-the-Lake was not merely subterranean, it was subaqueous, too, in the truest sense. It was made up of mile upon mile of high, muggy caverns linked by tunnels and smaller caves, into which one might put whole cities and towns without difficulty. My Lady Charlotina had hollowed the whole place out herself, many years before, under the bed and following the contours of one of the few permanent lakes left on the planet.
This lake was, of course, Lake Billy the Kid.
Lake Billy the Kid was named after the legendary American explorer, astronaut and bon-vivant, who had been crucified around the year 2000 because it was discovered that he possessed the hindquarters of a goat. In Billy the Kid's time such permutations were apparently not fashionable.
Lake Billy the Kid was perhaps the most ancient landmark in the world. It had been moved only twice in the past fifty thousand years.
At Below-the-Lake, the revels were in full swing.
A hundred or so of My Lady Charlotina's closest friends had arrived to entertain their delighted (if surprised) hostess and themselves. The party was noisy. It was chaotic.
Jherek Carnelian had had no difficulty, in this atmosphere, in slipping away to the menagerie and at last discovering My Lady Charlotina's latest acquisition in one of the two or three thousand smaller caverns she used to house her specimens.
The cavern containing Yusharisp's environment was between one containing a flickering, hissing flame-creature (which had been discovered on the Sun, but had probably originally come from another star altogether) and another containing a microscopic dog-like alien from nearby Betelgeux.
Yusharisp's environment was rather dark and chilly. Its main feature was a pulsing, squeaking black and purple tower which was covered in a most unappealing kind of mould. The tower was doubtless what Yusharisp lived in on his home planet. Apart from the tower there was a profusion of drooping grey plants and jagged dark yellow rocks. The tower resembled the spaceship which My Lady Charlotina had had to disseminate (if it had disseminated, as such, being of unearthly origin).
Yusharisp sat on a rock outside his tower, his four little legs folded under his spherical body. Most of his eyes were closed, save one at the front and one at the back. He seemed lost in sullen thoughts and did not notice Jherek at first. Jherek adjusted one of his rings, broke the force-barrier for a second, and walked through.
"You're Yusharisp, aren't you?" said Jherek. "I came to say how interested I was in your speech of the other day."
All Yusharisp's eyes opened round his head. His body swayed a little so that for a moment Jherek thought it would roll off and bounce over the ground like a ball. Yusharisp's many eyes were filled with gloom. "You, skree, responded to it?' he said in a small, despairing voice.
"It was very pleasant," said Jherek vaguely, thinking that perhaps he had begun on the wrong tack. "Very pleasant indeed."
"Pleasant? Now I am completely confused." Yusharisp began to rise on the rock upon his four little legs. "You found what I had to say pleasant? "
Jherek realised he had not said the right thing. "I mean," he went on, "that it was pleasant to hear such sentiments expressed." He racked his brains to remember exactly what the alien had said. He knew the general drift of it. He had heard it many times before. It had been about the end of the universe or the end of the galaxy, or something like that. Very similar in tone to a lot of what Li Pao had to say. Was it because the people on Earth were not living according to the principles and customs currently fashionable on the alien's home planet? That was the usual message: "You do not live like us. Therefore you are going to die. It is inevitable. And it will be your own fault."
"Refreshing, I meant," said Jherek lamely.
"I see, skree, what you mean, skree." Mollified, the alien hopped from the rock and stood quite close to Jherek, his front row of eyes staring roundly up into Jherek's face.
"I am pleased that there are some serious-minded people on this planet," Yusharisp continued. "In all my travels I have never had such a reception. Most beings have been moved and (roar) saddened by my news. Some have accepted it with dignity, skree, and calm. Some have been angry to disbelieving, even attacked me. Some have not been moved at all, for death holds no fear for, skree, them. But, skree, on Earth (roar) I have been imprisoned and my spaceship has quite casually been destroyed! And no one has expressed regret, anger — anything but — what? — amusement. As if what I had to say was a joke. They do not take me seriously, yet they lock me in this cell as if I had, skree, committed some kind of crime (roar)! Can you explain?"
"Oh, yes," said Jherek. "My Lady Charlotina wanted you for her collection. You see, she hasn't got a space-traveller of your shape and size."
"Collection? This is a (roar) zoo , skree, then?"
"Of sorts. She hasn't explained? She can be a bit vague, My Lady Charlotina, I agree. But she has made you comfortable. Your own environment in all its details."
Jherek looked without enthusiasm at the drooping plants and dark yellow rocks, the mouldy tower sticking up into the chill air. It was easy to see why the alien had chosen to leave. "Nice."
Yusharisp turned away and began to waddle towards his tower. "It is useless. My translator is malfunctioning more than I realised. I cannot transmit my message properly. It is my fault, not yours. I deserve this."
"What exactly was the message," said Jherek. He saw a chance to find out without appearing to have forgotten. "Perhaps if you could repeat it I could tell you if I understood."
The alien appeared to brighten and walk backwards. The only difference between his back and his front, as far as Jherek could see, was that his mouth was in the front. The eyes looked exactly the same. He swivelled round so that his mouth aperture faced Jherek.
"Well," Yusharisp began, "basically what has happened is that the universe, having ceased to expand, is contracting. Our researches have shown that this is what always happens — expansion/contraction, expansion/contraction, expansion/contraction — the universe forming and re-forming all the time. Perhaps that formation is always the same — each cycle being more or less a repeat of the previous one — I don't know. Anyway that takes us into the realm of Time, not Space, and I know nothing at all of Time."
"An interesting theory," said Jherek, who found it somewhat boring.
"It is not a theory."
"Aha."
"The universe has begun to contract. As a result, skree, all matter not in a completely gaseous (roar) state already, will be destroyed as it is pulled into what you might call the central vortex of the universe. My own, skree, planet has already gone by now, I should think." The alien sighed a deep sigh. "It's a matter of millennia, perhaps even less time than that, before your galaxy goes the same way."
"There, there." Jherek patted the alien on the top part of its body. Yusharisp looked up, offended.
"This is (roar) no time for sexual advances, skree, my friend!"
Jherek took his hand away. "My apologies."
"At another time, perhaps…" Yusharisp's translator growled and moaned and he kept clearing his throat until it had stopped. "I am, I must admit, rather dispirited," he said. "A trifle on (roar) edge, as you might expect."
Jherek's plan (or at least an important part of it) now crystallised. He said:
"That is why I intend to help you escape from My Lady Charlotina's menagerie."
"You do? But the force-field and so on? The security must be, skree, very tight."
Jherek did not tell the alien that he could, if he wished, wander at large across the whole planet. The only intelligent creatures who remained in menageries remained there because they desired it. Jherek reasoned that it was best, for his purposes, if Yusharisp really did think he was a prisoner.
"I can deal with all that," he said airily.
"I am deeply grateful to you." One of the alien's brown, bandy legs rose and touched Jherek on the thigh. "I could not believe that every creature on this planet could be so, skree, skree, inhumane. But my spaceship? How will I escape from your world to continue my journey, to carry my message?"
"We'll cope with that problem later," Jherek assured him.
"Very, skree, well. I understand. You are risking so much already." The alien hopped eagerly about on his four legs. "Can we leave now? Or must secret preparations be made, skree?"
"The important thing is that you shouldn't be detected leaving by My Lady Charlotina," Jherek answered. "Therefore, I must ask you if you will object to a little restructuring. Temporary, of course. And not very sophisticated — there isn't time. I'll put you back to your original form before we go to Mongrove's…"
"Mon(roar)grove's?"
"Our, um, hideout. A friend. A sympathiser."
"And what, skree, is 'restructuring'?" Yusharisp's manner had become suspicious.
"A disguise," said Jherek. "I must alter your body."
"A skree — a skree — a skree — a trick . Another cruel trick! (roar)" The alien became agitated and made as if to run into his tower. Jherek could see why Mongrove had seen a fellow spirit in Yusharisp. They would get on splendidly.
"Not a trick upon you. Upon the woman who has imprisoned you here."
Yusharisp calmed down, but a score of his eyes were darting from side to side, crossing in an alarming manner.
"And what (roar) then? Where will you take, skree, me?"
"To Mongrove's. He sympathises with your plight. He wishes to listen to all you have to say. He is perhaps the one person on the planet (apart, of course, from myself ) who really understands what you are trying to do."
Perhaps, thought Jherek, he was not deceiving the alien, after all. It was quite likely that Mongrove would want to help Yusharisp when he heard the whole of the little fellow's story. "Now —" Jherek fiddled with one of his rings. "If you will allow me…"
"Very well," said the alien, seeming to slump in resignation. "After all, there is, skree, nothing more (roar) to lose, is there?"
"Jherek! Sweet child. Child of nature. Son of the Earth! Over here!"
My Lady Charlotina, surrounded by many of her guests, including the Iron Orchid and Lord Jagged of Canaria (who were both working hard to keep her attention) waved to Jherek.
Jherek and Yusharisp (his body restructured to resemble that of an apeman) moved through a throng of laughing guests in one of the main caverns, close to the Gateway in the Water through which Jherek hoped to make his escape.
This cavern had glowing golden walls and a roof and floor of mirrored silver so that it seemed that everything took place simultaneously a hundred times upon the floor and the ceiling of the cavern. My Lady Charlotina floated in a force-hammock while the dwarfish scientist, Brannart Morphail, lay gasping between her knees. Morphail was perhaps the last true scientist on Earth, experimenting in the only possible field left for such a person — the field of time-manipulation. Morphail raised his head as My Lady Charlotina signalled Jherek. Morphail peered through ragged tufts of white, yellow and blue hair. He licked red lips surrounded by a tattered beard of orange and black. His dark eyes glowered, as if he blamed Jherek for the interrupted intercourse.
Jherek had to acknowledge her. He bowed, smiled and tried to think of some polite phrase on which to leave.
My Lady Charlotina was naked. All four of her latest breasts were tinted gold with silver nipples to match her cavern's decor. Her body was rose-pink and radiated softness and comfort. Her long, thin face, with its sharp nose and pointed chin, was embroidered in threads of scintillating light-thread which shifted colour constantly and sometimes appeared to alter the whole outline of her features.
Jherek, with the alien clinging nervously to him with one of its feet, tried to move on but then had to pause to instruct the alien, in a whisper, to use one of the upper appendages if it wished to hold to him at all. He was afraid My Lady Charlotina had already detected his theft.
Yusharisp looked as if he were about to bolt now. Jherek laid a restraining hand on the alien's new body.
"Who is that with you?"
My Lady Charlotina's embroidered face was, for a moment, scarlet all over.
"Is that a time-traveller?" Her force-hammock began to drift towards Jherek and Yusharisp. The sudden motion threw Brannart Morphail to the floor of the cavern. Moodily, he lay where he had fallen, looking at himself in the mirrored surface and refusing the proffered hands of both Lord Jagged of Canaria and the Iron Orchid. They stood near him, trying not to look at Jherek who, in turn, tried to ignore them. An exchange of glances at this stage might easily make My Lady Charlotina that much more suspicious.
"Yes," said Jherek quickly. "A time-traveller."
At this, Brannart Morphail looked up.
"He recently arrived. I found him. He'll be the basis of what will be my new collection."
"Oh, so you are to vie with me? I must watch you, Jherek. You're so clever ."
"Yes, you must watch. My collection, though, will never match yours, my charming Charlotina."
"Have you seen my new space-traveller?" She cast her eyes over the alien as she spoke.
"Yes. Yesterday, I think. Or the day before. Very fine."
"Thank you. This is an odd specimen. Are you sure it's genuine, dear?"
"Oh, yes. Absolutely."
Jherek had given him the form of a pre-10th century, or Piltdown, Man. He was apelike, somewhat shaggy and inclined (because of Yusharisp's normal method of perambulation) to drop to all fours. He was dressed in animal skins and (an authentic touch) carried a pistol (a club with a metal handle and a blunt, wooden end).
"He didn't, surely, come in his own machine?" said My Lady Charlotina.