Rebels of Gor (73 page)

“How else would we have the courage to approach your august presence?” I asked.

“Certify,” he said.

“‘Certify’?” I said.

“Yes,” he said, “certify.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“I do not think you will leave the corridor alive,” came from the translator. The words were evenly spaced and equable, but the mien of the beast was now clearly menacing, extremely menacing.

“Report to the shogun,” I said, severely.

The second beast, that now a pace or two behind the first, snarled. Whereas this noise seemed to me no different from the noises the translator had been dealing with, rendering them into intelligible Gorean, no Gorean emerged from the machine. It was then, I gathered, a simple snarl.

“The confirmation device, the authentication signal, the sign, the password, is simple,” said the first beast. “Certify.”

“It has been changed,” I said.

“To what?” he asked.

“To this,” I said, drawing the
tanto
from my sash.

The beast lunged forward, and I drove the blade, two hands on the handle, bracing it against my body, deep into its chest.

My head was buried in its fur, and I felt the heat of its breath on my neck. I sensed Pertinax and Tajima hurrying about me.

The other Kur had spun about, rushed to the side, and now had the great Kur ax lifted, ready to strike, when two glaives were thrust into his body, again and again.

The first beast had fallen before me.

It was still alive, and the translator was still on.

“Forgive me,” I said to the beast, kneeling beside it.

“Well done,” said the beast. “Now I will not die the tarsk death.”

“I would have had it otherwise,” I said.

“It will do you no good,” said the beast.

I was not heartened by this remark.

Tajima and Pertinax seemed shaken, numb, almost dazed; in the cry of the moment they had reacted almost reflexively, and were only now better aware of what had occurred; they stood near the fallen Kur, looking down, the blades of their glaives drenched with blood, oddly paled in the yellowish light.

“It is thus, with steel,” I said, “that we certify ourselves.”

“It is the way of warriors,” said Tajima.

“It is well,” I said, “you responded as quickly as you did. Had the strike of the ax been launched you might both have been cut in two. Few things can stand against a Kur ax.”

Pertinax and Tajima came then to stand next to me.

“Now,” I said, “my friends, you have met Kurii.”

“What a gross beast,” said Pertinax, looking down on the first Kur.

“Do not speak ill of it,” I said. “It was a warrior.”

Chapter Fifty-One

We Must Undertake an Inquiry

“It is not here,” I said, miserably.

“This is the fifth level of the palace,” said Pertinax.

“And it is here we encountered the beasts,” said Tajima.

“It must be here,” said Pertinax, angrily.

“It is not,” I said.

That was clear enough. Its bulk would have been impossible to conceal, certainly in the space to which we now had access.

“The roof?” said Pertinax.

“The roof was visible from afar,” I said. “The dragon or, more likely, its housing would have been evident, when we scouted the palace from a distance.”

“One of its wings would not fit in this place,” said Tajima.

“It must be here,” said Pertinax. “There must be a secret panel, leading to an adjoining chamber, one cavernous in nature, one where the walls might draw back, that it might fly.”

“Search then for such a vast chamber,” I said. “But I do not think you will find it.”

“It must be here, somehow adjoined with this chamber,” said Pertinax.

“I do not think so,” I said. “While I was Lord Yamada’s guest, I examined the palace with care, not simply to familiarize myself with the premises, but to seek avenues of escape, and note points of possible attack. I recall no such space. I had hoped the corridor which was sealed away and guarded, that to which I had no access, might lead to such a space, the dragon’s cave, but it does not.”

“There must be a secret panel,” said Pertinax.

“Search for it then,” I said.

Pertinax began to examine the walls, even the floor, with care.

“It is nearly dawn,” said Pertinax.

“The iron dragon is to fly at dawn,” said Tajima. “We will be unable to stop it.”

“The trussed Ashigaru will shortly be discovered,” said Pertinax.

“Doubtless, by now,” said Tajima.

“The door,” I said, “will hold indefinitely.”

“And we are trapped within,” said Tajima.

“I had thought the housing for the device would be accessed from the corridor,” I said.

“But it is not here,” said Pertinax.

“So it is obviously elsewhere,” said Tajima.

“Of course, it need not be here!” I said.

“What do you mean?” asked Pertinax.

“Continue to search for your panel,” I said. “It exists.”

“I do not understand,” said Pertinax.

“It is here, in this secret, guarded place, we encountered the beasts,” I said.

“Yes?” said Tajima.

“They must be its technicians, its controllers, its operators,” I said.

“That is likely, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima.

“Dawn,” I said, “is at hand, perhaps moments away.”

“And the beasts were here,” said Tajima.

“Precisely,” I said.

“The dragon need not be here,” said Pertinax.

“But it must be controlled from here!” said Tajima.

“Search!” I said. “Let us all search for the panel!”

Chapter Fifty-Two

The Secret Room;

What Was Found Within the Secret Room

“It must be dawn,” said Tajima.

“Almost,” I said. “Go, see!”

On the side of the chamber, on the wall, facing west, there was a steel-shuttered aperture which Tajima slid back. The opening was small, a matter of horts. It was, however, apparently, the only direct access the chamber had to view the outside.

“It is dark,” said Tajima.

“You are facing west,” said Pertinax.

“It may be dawn,” I said.

Gor, as Earth, rotates toward the east.
 

Toward the rear of the chamber, fixed in the wall to the right, as one would enter, Pertinax had located a small metal object, circular, less than a hort in diameter, covered with a mesh of fine wire.

“I see nothing inexplicable, or anomalous, other than this,” had said Pertinax.

“That has to be it,” I had said. “The lever, the switch, the key!”

“It would meaningless to most Goreans,” said Tajima.

“By intention,” I said.

“I have tried to turn it, I have pressed it,” said Pertinax.

“But,” I said, “my dear friend, you have not talked to it.”

“What?” he said.

“It looks, does it not,” I said, “like a receiver, or small microphone?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I wager,” I said, “that is, in effect, what it is. The panel is voice-sensitive. Some message in Kur would spring the lock and open the panel.”

“
Ela
!” moaned Pertinax. “We are lost.”

“Not at all,” I said, “you have succeeded splendidly. This victory is yours!”

“We do not know Kur,” said Tajima.

“But the panel has been found,” I had said. “Fetch the Kur ax, and help me, both of you, one after the other, to wield it.”

Four or five feet of the wall had soon splintered apart, and collapsed, before us, succumbing to the attentions of the great ax. I yanked boards aside and revealed a small room, containing what appeared to be a console of sorts, and, behind it, a large frame, in which were mounted six viewing panels.

“Now,” said Pertinax, “we use the ax, and destroy these things.”

“Not yet,” I said. “That would not harm the dragon.”

“It would be inoperative,” said Pertinax.

“Temporarily,” I said.

“Better that than nothing,” said Pertinax.

“Compared to the dragon,” I said, “I am sure the control devices are relatively simple, and possibly easily replaced.”

“You do not know that,” said Pertinax.

“No,” I said. “And I may be wrong. But I think the dragon itself is the target of interest.”

“We do not know where the dragon is,” said Tajima.

“No,” I said, “but I am certain it is controlled from here.”

“Destroy the control apparatus,” said Pertinax. “We have the ax. We can do at least that.”

“Later,” I said.

“At least the dragon will not fly at dawn,” said Pertinax.

“I hope it will,” I said, sliding onto the bench before the console.

“What are you going to do?” asked Tajima.

“I hope,” I said, “—release the dragon.”

“Do not trifle with these things,” said Pertinax. “They may be armed.”

“Withdraw,” I suggested.

“No,” said Pertinax.

“No, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima.

“You were ready,” I said to Pertinax, “to strike it with an ax.”

Pertinax was silent.

“This equipment,” I said, “has been designed to be operated by Kurii, a visually oriented organism presumably unfamiliar with the technology internal to the dragon. I have no doubt that an attempt to examine that technology would be dangerous to the highest degree. Priest-Kings do not care to share secrets on which the fate of worlds may hang. This control apparatus, however, I suspect, is not armed. That precaution would not be necessary, and it might, if accidentally triggered, bring the entire mission of the iron dragon to naught. Further, I suspect we have nothing here which exceeds the technology of the Kurii themselves, and nothing here, by intent, which an average Kur, or human, cannot manage.”

“Can you manage it?” asked Pertinax.

“Possibly,” I said. “The board is very simple. There are only a few switches. There must be a way of opening the dragon’s gate, so to speak, of activating the dragon itself, of opening its eyes, so to speak, and so on.”

“How is it to be guided, controlled?” asked Tajima.

“That is the easiest,” I said. “By its reins.”

“It has no reins, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima.
 

“They are here,” I said, “embedded in the board, this mounted sphere. Long ago, in a distant place,” I said, “I utilized something much like this.”

I needed not speak to them of the great nest in the Sardar, nor of the Nest War, nor of the fierce aerial battles within those mighty chambers, nor of transportation disks and flame tubes.

“And this lever, given its curved, linear housing,” I said, “I suspect will activate the dragon, and regulate its speed.”

“But it seemed to breathe fire and it could blast walls,” said Tajima.

“Like a gun,” I said, “pointed to its target.”

“And where is the trigger?” asked Pertinax.

“I do not know,” I said, “but consider these two switches on the right, in their recesses. There is no danger of accidentally tripping them. That is interesting, is it not?”

“One for a torrent of fire, one for missiles, or rays, of a sort?” said Pertinax.

“In any event,” I said, “we will not try them unless we are successful in getting our dragon out of its cave and into the open air. There is no point in turning its hanger or housing into a furnace or a shambles of debris.”

“There are six small spheres in what appear to be cups,” said Pertinax, pointing to the board, “and each sphere has what seems to be a dial next to it. What is all that for?”

“I do not know,” I said, “but as there are six spheres and six dials, I would suppose it has to do with the six viewing screens.”

We then heard a pounding on the heavy iron portal, probably from the butts of glaives.

“The guards have been found, and released,” said Tajima.

“It sounds so,” I said.

We could also hear shouting from behind the door.

“It must be dawn, by now,” said Pertinax.

“Lord Yamada must be furious,” said Pertinax.

“I doubt that he is informed, as yet,” I said. “I expect, rather, he is ensconced in some coign of vantage, where he is eagerly awaiting the flight of the iron dragon. Indeed, I think I know the place.”