Planet of Adventure Omnibus (21 page)

He found two
short lengths of wood, tied them to his shoes, and, taking long steps, stalked
carefully away through the garden.

He had
traveled only fifty yards when he heard sounds behind him, and instantly took
cover. Peering back through the shrubbery, he saw that his hunch had not only
been accurate, but timely. By the shed stood three Chaschmen security guards in
purple and gray uniforms, with a pair of Blue Chasch, one of whom carried a
detector-wand connected to a pack and thence to a mask across his nasal
orifice. The Blue Chasch, waving the wand across the ground, sniffed out Reith’s
tracks without difficulty. At the back of the building the creature became
confused, but presently discerned evidence of Reith’s sojourn on the roof. All
drew back warily, apparently believing Reith still on top.

From his
vantage point fifty yards distant Reith chuckled, wondering what the Blue
Chasch would think when they found no Reith on the roof and no perceptible
trace of his departure. Then, still on his wooden clogs, he continued through
the gardens toward the wall.

With a great
caution he approached the large building and halted behind a tall tree to take
stock of the situation. The building was dark and gloomy, apparently
unoccupied. As Reith had supposed, the roof was very close to the top of the
wall.

Reith looked
back over the city. More sky-sleds were visible, at least a dozen. They flew
low over the area he had just crossed, trailing black cylinders on wire: almost
certainly olfactory pickups. If one passed overhead or downwind, whatever
distinctive odor Reith exuded must be detected. It was obviously important that
he take cover swiftly, and the somber building against the wall seemed the only
practical cover: if it was unoccupied.

Reith watched
another few minutes. He could discern no stir of movement within. He listened
but heard no sounds; still he dared not approach. On the other hand, glancing
over his shoulder at the air-sleds, he dared not remain. Discarding the clogs,
he took a tentative step forward-then, hearing sounds behind him, sprang back
into concealment.

There were
measured tones of a gong. Up the road came a procession of Chaschmen muffled in
gray and white. In the van, four carried a white-draped corpse on a bier;
behind marched Chaschmen and Chaschwomen sighing and keening. The building was
a mausoleum or mortuary, thought Reith; the somber aspect was no deception.

The gong
strokes slowed. The group halted below the portico of the building. The gong
became still. In utter silence the bier was brought forward and placed upon the
porch. The mourners drew back and waited. The gong struck a single tone.

A door slowly
opened, a gap which seemed to extend into an infinite void. An intense golden
ray slanted down upon the corpse. From right and left came a pair of Blue
Chasch, wearing a ceremonial harness of straps, tabs, golden whorls and
tassels. They approached the corpse, drew down the pall to expose the face and
the beetling false skull, then stepped aside. A curtain descended to hide the
corpse.

A moment
passed. The ray of golden light became a glare; there was sudden plangent
sound, as of a broken harpstring. The curtain lifted. The corpse lay as before,
but the false skull was split and the cranium as well. In the cold brain sat a
Blue Chasch imp, staring forth at the mourners.

The gong
struck eleven jubilant strokes; the Blue Chasch cried out, “The elevation has
occurred! A man has transcended his first life! Partake of beatitude! Inhale
the jubilant odor! The man, Zugel Edgz, has given soul to this delightful imp!
Could there be greater felicity? Through diligence, by application of approved
principle, the same glory may come to all! In first life I was the man Sagaza
Oso-” spoke one. “I was the woman Diseun Furwg,” spoke the other. “-So with all
the others. Depart then in joy! The imp Zugel Edgz must be anointed with
healthful salve; the empty man-hulk will return to the soil. In two weeks you
may visit your beloved Zugel Edgz!”

The mourners,
no longer dejected, returned down the path to quick strokes of the gong, and
were lost to sight. The bier with corpse and staring imp slid into the
building. The Blue Chasch followed, and the door closed.

Reith gave a
quiet laugh, which he quickly stifled as a skysled drifted alarmingly close.
Creeping through the foliage, he approached the mortuary. No one, Chasch or
Chaschman, was in sight; he slipped around to the rear of the building, which
almost abutted the wall.

Low to the
ground was an arched opening. Reith sidled close, listened, to hear a muffled
grind of machinery, and he winced at the thought of the grisly work being done.
He peered into the dimness to see what appeared to be a storeroom, a repository
for discarded objects. On racks and shelves were pots, jars, heaps of old
garments, a clutter of dusty mechanisms for purposes unimaginable. The room was
untenanted, apparently little used. Reith took a final look at the sky and
slipped into the building.

The room
communicated with another, through a wide low arch. Another room lay beyond,
and another, and another, all illuminated by a sickly glow from ceiling panels.
Reith was content to crouch behind a rack and wait.

An hour
passed, two hours. Reith became restless and made a cautious exploration. In a
side chamber he found a bin containing false craniums, each with a label and a
series of characters. He picked one up, tried it on. It seemed to fit; Reith
detached and discarded the label. From a pile of garments he selected an old
cloak and drew it up under his chin. From a distance, at a casual glance, he
might conceivably be taken for a Chaschman.

There was a
fading of light at the window; looking forth Reith saw that the sun had settled
into a wrack of clouds. The adarak trees moved against a background of watery
light. Reith climbed forth, scrutinized the sky; no sky-sleds were immediately
evident. Reith went to a convenient tree and started to climb. The bark was a
slippery pulp, which made the project more difficult than he had anticipated.
At last, sticky with aromatic sap, sweating under his ill-smelling garments, he
gained the roof of the mortuary.

He crouched,
looked out over Dadiche. The sky-sleds had disappeared; the sky was brown-gray
with oncoming dusk.

Reith went to
the back edge of the roof, looked across at the wall. The top surface was about
six feet distant, flat, with foothigh prongs at fifty-foot intervals. Warring
devices? Reith could imagine no other purpose. On the other side was a drop of
thirty feet-twenty-five feet, if he hung by his hands before he let himself
fall. Reith appraised the chances of landing without broken bones or sprained
joints: about two in three, depending upon the ground beneath. With a rope, the
descent would be effortless. In the basement of the mortuary he had seen no
ropes, but there were quantities of old garments to be knotted together. First:
what would happen if he reached the top of the wall?

To learn,
Reith doffed his cloak. Moving along the rooftop until he was opposite one of
the prongs, he swung the cloak out and over the prong.

The result
was instant and startling. From the prongs to either side lances of white fire
darted forth, piercing the cloak, setting it aflame. Reith snatched it back,
stamped out the blaze, looked hurriedly back and forth along the wall.
Undoubtedly an alarm had been set off. Should he risk leaping the wall, fleeing
across the waste? The chances, very bad in any case, would be nonexistent if he
should become caught in the open. He ran to the tree, descended far more
rapidly than he had mounted. Over the city sky-sleds were already appearing.
Reith heard a far weird whistling which set his nerves on edge ... He ran,
cloak flapping, back under the trees. A gleam of water attracted his attention:
a small pond, overgrown with pallid white water-plants. Throwing off his cloak
and false cranium, Reith jumped into the water, submerged himself up to his
nose, and waited.

Minutes
passed. A squad of security guards on electric motorcycles dashed past. Two
sky-sleds trailing scent-detectors drifted overhead, one to his right, the
other to his left. They disappeared to the east; clearly the Blue Chasch
thought he had crossed the wall, that he was at large outside the city. If this
was the case, if they presently decided that he had escaped into the mountains,
his chances would be thereby much improved ... He became aware of something
moving along the bottom of the pond. It felt muscular, purposeful. An eel? a
watersnake? A tentacle? Reith jumped out of the pond. Ten feet away something
broke the surface and made a sound like a snort of disgust.

Reith seized
up the cloak and the false cranium and trudged dripping back down away from the
mortuary.

He came upon
a small lane winding among the Chaschmen bungalows. By night they seemed close,
secretive, locked-in. The windows were small and none lower than eight feet
from the ground. Some exuded a wavering yellow light, as if from a lamp, which
puzzled Reith. Surely a race as technically capable as the Blue Chasch could
provide their underlings electric or nucleonic illumination ... Another paradox
of Tschai.

The wet
clothes not only chafed but smelled abominably-a situation which might
camouflage his own scent, thought Reith. He pulled the false cranium over his
skull, threw the cloak around his shoulders. Walking slow and stiff-legged, he
continued toward the gate.

The sky was
dark; neither Az nor Braz was in the sky, and the byways of Dadiche knew only
the most casual illumination. Two Chaschmen came into view. Reith pulled down
his chin, hunched his shoulders, walked stolidly forward. The two passed with
no more than a glance.

Somewhat
encouraged, Reith reached the central boulevard with the gate two hundred yards
ahead. High lamps cast a yellow glare into the portal. Three guards in purple
and gray were still in evidence, but they seemed slack and uninterested, and
Reith was reinforced in his belief that the Blue Chasch thought him gone from
the city.

Unfortunately,
thought Reith, the Blue Chasch were wrong.

He considered
the feasibility of sauntering up to the portal, dashing through and away into
the darkness. The sky-sleds would instantly be after him, as well as platoons
of guards on electric motorcycles. What with his reeking clothes, he would have
no place to hide-unless he discarded all his garments and ran naked through the
night.

Reith gave a
soft grunt of disapproval ... His attention was attracted by a tavern in the
basement of a tall building. From the low windows came flickering red and
yellow light, hoarse conversation, an occasional gust of bellowing laughter.
Three Chaschmen came lurching forth; Reith turned his back and looked through
the window down into a murky taproom, lit by firelight and the ubiquitous
yellow lamps. A dozen Chaschmen, faces pinched and twisted under the grotesque
false crania, sat hunched over stone pots of liquor, exchanging lewd banter
with a small group of Chaschwomen. These wore gowns of black and green; bits of
tinsel and ribbon bedizened their false scalps; their pug-noses were painted
bright red. A dismal scene, thought Reith; still, it pointed up the essential
humanity of the Chaschmen. Here were the universal ingredients of celebration:
invigorating drink, gay women, camaraderie. The Chaschman version seemed
somewhat leaden and dour ... Another pair of Chaschmen passed close to Reith
without remark. So far the disguise had been effective, though whether it would
pass a more detailed examination Reith was uncertain. He walked slowly toward
the gate, until he was barely fifty yards distant. He dared approach no
further. He slid into a niche between two buildings and settled himself to
watch the gate.

The night
went on. The air became still and cold and Reith became aware of odors from the
Dadiche gardens.

He dozed.
When he awoke Az had appeared behind a line of sentinel adarak. Reith shifted
his position, groaned, massaged his neck, recoiling at the odor of the still
damp garments.

At the gate
two of the security guards had disappeared. The third stood torpidly,
half-asleep. In the booths the attendants sat looking morosely out over the
empty spaces. Reith settled back into his niche.

The east
became bright with dawn; the city came alive. New personnel arrived at the
portal. Reith watched the incoming and outgoing groups exchange information.

An hour later
drays began to arrive from Pera. The first, drawn by a pair of great draft
beasts, brought casks of pickles and fermented meat, and stank with a fervor
that put Reith to shame. On the driver’s bench sat two persons: Emmink, more
sour, sulky and dire than ever, and Traz. “Forty-three,” shouted Emmink. “A
hundred and one,” called Traz. The guards came out, counted barrels, inspected
the wagon, then ordered Emmink to proceed.

As the wagon
passed, Reith emerged from his niche, walked close beside. “Traz.’

Traz looked
down and made a small exclamation of satisfaction. “I knew you’d still be
alive.”

“Just barely.
Do I look like a Chaschman?”

“Not too
much. Keep the cloak over your chin and nose .... When we come back from
market, up under the right foreleg of the right beast.”

Reith turned
aside into a secluded little nook behind a shed and watched the wagon move off
toward the market.