Exile (30 page)

Dalin nodded weakly. "And you are . . ."

"Me? I'm just your humble servant—and a man who used to steal from you whenever he could!" The bear of a man made a mock bow. "Shatz Abel's the name!"

Dalin nearly fainted. "The
pirate.
Oh, no . . ." The grin grew even wider. "You've heard of me! I'm overwhelmed!"

"Ralf and Enry ..

"Enry and Ralf! Those rogues!" For a moment the man's visage clouded. "They owe me money." Again the grin returned. "But no matter! What I'd like to know is, how did you get here, Your Majesty?" The voice deepened. "From the look of your eyes, I fear I already know."

"Wrath-Pei."

Now Shatz Abel's face flushed red with anger. He said nothing, but a fierce light unlike anything Dalin had ever seen rose into the man's eyes. Now, as Shatz Abel's fists clenched, Dalin saw for the first time just how powerful he was; his closed hands the size of earthly hams, his muscled arms hard as mahogany logs, his chest bulging beneath his tunic like two barrels stove together.

The anger slowly passed, until Shatz Abel said in a basso hiss,
"Wrath-Pel
. . ."

"Yes," Dalin said weakly.

Suddenly the king was lifted into Shatz Abel's arms. Too weak to protest, he was carried across the white chamber, whose walls appeared made of metal, to a huge window fronting one end. It was apparent from the rocky sill framing the window that the structure they were in had been cut into the side of a mountain.

Outside, the blue-white storm raged. But now once again one of the strange silences came over it. A swirl of snow gave way to a clearing sky.

Up above, the stars momentarily glinted.

Cradled in one of Shatz Abel's arms like a rag doll, Dalin felt oddly at peace.

With his free hand, the pirate pointed. "There," he said, softly.

Dalin looked hard, but saw only a black area near the distant starlike Sun. "1 don't see anything."

"But it's there, Your Majesty. Earth."

Dalin's heart quickened.

"And I now make a vow of my own, to return you to it, and to your rightful place. Just as I vow to turn Wrath-Pei into jelly, for the things he's done."

For a brief moment Dalin felt himself tightened in Shatz Abel's grip, until the huge man's anger passed.

"Let me stand," Dalin said.

He was lowered gently to the floor and now felt his legs hold him with their returning strength.

The two stood side by side, staring into a clearing night.

"Yes," Dalin said.

Soon he could see the tiny blue dot he sought.

G
ilgesh Khan, ruler of no empire, was, nevertheless, descended from one. On the wall of his office on icy Europa, at the base of monstrous Carlton Cliff, was hung a duly signed and witnessed document containing a sliver of Lexan enclosing a minute particle of genetic material attesting to such fact that Gilgesh, mild and small, weak and inoffensive manager of the "Greatest Attraction in the Solar System," was, nevertheless, a direct descendant of the feared and hated Earth Khan known as Genghis. It was a matter of great pride to Gilgesh (it had cost enough) but it gave him no comfort on this day, when the ancestor himself might be needed.

"What in Rama's name could Wrath-Pei want with
me?"
he sputtered nervously, fussing with the instruments on his desk, turning to tap the tilt out of the framed and sealed genetic testimonial.

To his right, the side wall of his office was nothing short of a full window, giving a view of the lower portion of the cliff. As Gilgesh turned nervously toward it, a customer fell into view from the sheer icy white heights above, flailing as they all did until the auto-chute opened, bringing the rider up short a few meters from the ground. The rider kicked happily and touched down, running a few strides before turning back to gaze wonderingly at the wall he had just descaled. The trip down had taken nearly twelve minutes—an "Eternity of Thrills," as the advertisements spread over the Four Worlds so hyperbolically, and nearly accurately, claimed—and by the end the thrill seekers who took the plunge at the top were overwhelmed. It was a common reaction—and one Gilgesh had often wished he could charge extra for.

But such pecuniary thoughts were far from his mind today. "Why
me?
Why
now?"
he whined, to no one in particular, being as the office was empty. On learning of the Titan tyrant's imminent arrival he had sent his crew of four scrambling home, and prepared to close the attraction for the day.

There came a knock at the outer air lock, and Gilgesh for a moment froze, thinking that Wrath-Pei had already arrived. But that was impossible—the madman's ship had not yet been detected by Europa's sensors, and Wrath-Pei himself had declared that he would be extending his stay on sulfurous lo before traveling on to Gilgesh's humble amusement ride.

"There's nothing else
on
this frozen rock!" Gilgesh protested, before activating the lock on the outer door and running to the porthole to see who was there to waste his time.

Two figures shrouded in visored climate suits confronted him; the larger of the two began to raise a hand in greeting before Gilgesh cut him off.

"Go away! We're closed for the day!" he snapped.

The two, obviously stupid tourists, did not budge.

"Are you deaf? I said leave! Go to the hotel and sit by the fireplace! Spend money in the gift shop! Come back tomorrow!"

Still they stood staring at him, faces unseen.

A brief chill ran through Gilgesh Khan, making even his ancient Khan's blood freeze: could these two be advance guards for Wrath-Pei himself? To find out: "Don't you know that Wrath-Pei is due here today? We're closed, I tell you!"

That got a reaction, and a good one, from the pair: instantly the larger one turned, pulling the shorter one after him, and they made their way out of the lock, leaving it open behind them.

Though secretly pleased at their alarmed reaction, Gilgesh was also angry: "Stupid tourists! No discount for You tomorrow!" he shouted after them, activating the closing of the lock from where he stood. No one had any common courtesy anymore.

But even as the lock closed, Gilgesh Khan turned from the door to fret once more over the items on his desk, and to tap again at the ever-so-slightly askew testimonial on the wall behind his desk.

"Why
me?
Why
now.
. . ?"

Halfway between the icy beauty of the Europa Hotel and the precipitous majesty of the Carlton Cliff, Shatz Abel reached out a hand to stop Dalin Shar in his tracks.

"We don't have much time," Shatz Abel said grimly.

"Why?" Dalin answered. Though he couldn't see the pirate's eyes through the darkened visor, he nevertheless turned in the big man's direction. "And why didn't you ask Khan's help?" A note of sarcasm crept into the king's voice. "I thought you two were 'tight as tigers' in the old days."

Ignoring the king's tone, Shatz Abel answered, "We were tight, but Gilgesh is about as seaworthy as a sieve. If he knew we were here, Wrath-Pei would soon know it, too." The answer that surfaced when Shatz Abel articulated Wrath-Pei's name was evident.

"But what about his ship? I thought—"

"There are other ways to secure a ship," Shatz Abel said. "And the sooner we get to doing it, the sooner we get off this waste of a moon."

Without another word Shatz Abel turned toward the hotel once more; in a moment, Dalin Shar, throwing up his hands in resignation, followed.

Still fussing with his office bric-a-brac, Gilgesh Khan was startled to hear the audio monitor on his wall Screen come to life.

"Is anybody home?" a voice said lightly.

"Who is that!" Khan shouted back into the monitor; at the same time he ran to the window, straining to see up the sharp face of Canton Cliff. "Don't you know the ride is closed? Get out of there immed—"

The last word turned into a gag in his throat as he caught a glimpse of a monstrous wedge-shaped ship, as long as Canton Cliff was high, hovering over the top of the ridge.

Wrath-Pei's chuckle filtered through the Screen's audio. "Why, Khan! Is that any way to greet an old friend? Do come up and say hello."

"Yes, of course," Gilgesh croaked out. Already he was fumbling for his climate suit, climbing into it backwards before discovering his mistake and pulling it off to try again.

All the while muttering, "Why me.. . ?"

The ride up was not pleasant for Gilgesh Khani

The ride's owners had insisted that the elevator to carry customers to the cliff's summit not only be spacious but that it be nearly invisible. Made of quality quartz glass, the elevator was little more than a soap bubble in which its passengers felt as if they were riding on air.

Most customers loved it; but Gilgesh, being afraid not only of heights but of upward movement (two facts which he had judiciously kept from the owners, since he very much needed the job at the time) hated the elevator with a passion. This hate was only superseded by his loathing for the ride itself; he made sure that his hirelings did as much of the maintenance at the apex as possible, leaving Gilgesh to fret about the much more important matters of cash receipts and promotion—two endeavors which could be carried out very easily at ground level.

So tightly were his eyes closed, in fact, that Gilgesh did not even realize that the elevator had reached the top of the cliff until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and snapped open his eyes to peer into the crystal clear visor of Wrath-Pci's climate suit and see the delightedly smiling face of Wrath-Pei himself.

"Khan!" Wrath-Pei said, releasing the proprietor from his grip one uncurling finger at a time before settling back into his gyro chair. "So nice to see you again!"

As always, Wrath-Pei was dressed with impeccable, if chilling, taste: his climate suit, jet-black, was form fitting and seamless to the tips of his gloves; his helmet save for the clear faceplate was ebony also, and sculpted to mimic Wrath-Pci's swept back leonine mane of silver hair: the effect was startling.

Trying not to shiver, and trying most of all not to stare at the holster secured at the side of Wrath-Pei's gyro chair like a scabbard, Khan bowed at the waist and stuttered, "And n-nice to s-see you, too, Your G-G-Grace!"

Wrath-Pei clapped his hands in delight. His protege Lawrence, standing a few paces behind the chair, took a tentative, creaking step forward before resuming his silent position. Gilgesh noted that the boy was somewhat shorter than at their last meeting; bile churned from his stomach into his throat when he saw the blunt lines at the boy's thighs that delineated real flesh from artificial limb.

"H-How may I serve you, Your Grace?" Gilgesh Khan said, wanting only for the interview to be over.

Wrath-Pei, still immersed in delight, turned his eyes from Gilgesh to take in the land and skyscape around him. Hypnotized like a cobra, Khan's eyes followed. Beyond the profile of Wrath-Pei's ship, outlined against the diamonds-on-black-velvet of starry space, sat Jupiter like a fat red pumpkin. The horrid crimson swirls of its Great Red Spot were just hoving into view, surrounded by a thousand other variegated storms and fault lines. At the horizon, the contrast of ebon space with white ice was startling; a far line of cliffs smaller than Carlton stood like blunt teeth biting at the deep heavens. There had been vague talk about developing those other cliffs into further amusement rides, or the possibility of the exploitation of Europa's huge ocean, sixty feet below the icy surface....

Suddenly Gilgesh Khan was filled with excitement: could this be why Wrath-Pei was here? Could this be about money?

Gilgesh's confidence replaced his fear in an instant. Now he was on terra firma. If there was cash to be made, Khan would be involved. Perhaps Wrath-Pei had taken over the present ride, and had come to introduce himself as the new owner. Or perhaps he really was here to present new plans—for new amusement rides, a new hotel, even a theme park! Oh joy! Oh money!

"Your Grace, are you here—?"

"I am here for two reasons," Wrath-Pei said, with sudden detachment. The tyrant's sight had fallen and stayed on the line of auto-chutes lined like obedient dogs at the edge of Canton Cliff. Beside them was the tall credit machine, the lone sentry of commerce, which allowed customers to release one of the chutes from its locked mooring, don it, and leap from the titanium ledge perched like a pirate ship's plank against the top of the cliff. Exactly eleven point eight minutes later the chute would automatically activate, ending the ride.

"Is it ... fun?" Wrath-Pei asked idly.

"I wouldn't know, Your Grace," Gilgesh said, impatient to discuss the tyrant's plans and reasons. "I've never been down."

"No?" Wrath-Pei said, turning to study Khan.

"As to your reasons—"

"Yes, my reasons for being here," Wrath-Pei said. "As I said, there are two. First and foremost, I need this ice-ball as a defensive station against Prime Cornelian. I am therefore claiming it in the name of. . . me, and closing your facility, including the hotel, forthwith."