The Kings of Eternity (24 page)

“Then they would be unlucky in their search for the homunculus,” Vaughan said. “And there’s precious little to implicate Charles in his escape.” He stopped, biting his lip.

“What?” I said.

“Again,” he said grimly, “I make assumptions based only upon what I know. What if the Vark have means whereby to trace or locate artefacts of technology not of this planet? By which I mean the defective shanath, the blue egg and the box-like device? In that case, Charles might indeed be in danger.”

“Always assuming, of course, that the Vark thought to examine the Grange. They might have confined their search to Hopton Wood.”

“All this is pure speculation, Jonathon. We’ll find out more when we get there. But,” he went on, “a thought did occur to me.”

We were motoring from London now, with open fields on either side. The snow that had covered most of England for weeks was no more; it had given way, instead, to torrential rain storms. The heavens opened now, and it was all the feeble wipers could do to swipe a flood of water back and forth across the blurred windscreen.

“Go on,” I said, eager to hear his speculations.

“Consider what Kathan told us about the shanath,” he said. “It duplicates itself at its destination. Therefore, if Kathan or Jasper were to elect to come back to Earth, then all they need to do is select the planet’s co-ordinates, if that is possible, and the shanath would duplicate itself on our planet. In effect, Jasper has the means to return home whenever he wishes.”

“Always assuming, of course, that he has the Earth’s co-ordinates.”

I stared through the rain-smeared glass at the sodden countryside. Thunder and lightning had joined the storm, and a strong wind side-swiped the car: it felt as though we were aboard a small yacht on a storm-tossed ocean.

“We are assuming, too,” Vaughan went on, “that the shanath can be used at will. But what devices do we use on Earth that come without the need to pay for them? I’ll wager that the shanath’s expenditure of energy is prodigious: it won’t come cheaply, and as far as I know British pounds, shillings and pence are unlikely to be legal tender among the stars.”

“But just think if he has returned,” I said. “What wonders might he have brought back with him! And if a portal to the stars could be maintained...” My head reeled with the myriad possibilities.

“Recall what Kathan told us about the Galactic Council,” Vaughan reminded me. “We’re considered too primitive to contact and admit to the fraternity of star-faring races. I think it unlikely that any governing body would allow the free use of a jump gate linking our planet to the stars.”

“But what a fanciful speculation,” I said.

Just an hour or two ago I had been standing beside my father’s death-bed, my thoughts anywhere but the stars - and now I was exchanging wild speculation with my friend. And yet it seemed perfectly natural that we should be doing so, for after all had not we alone, among everyone upon the face of the planet, witnessed more wonders in just weeks than most citizens were privy to in an entire lifetime?

Two hours after leaving London we arrived at Aylesbury, and Vaughan turned his car along the narrow lane bound for Fairweather Cranley. It seemed hard to believe that we had come this way for the first time just three weeks ago.

Thirty minutes later Cranley Grange came into view. Twilight was falling, along with the rain, and the Grange appeared dour and isolated set amid the hills and forests of the Chilterns.

Vaughan drove around the back of the house, and we climbed from the car and hurried through the downpour and into the familiar library.

Charles had a roaring fire built, and the claret breathing. He was standing before the hearth with a glass in hand, and he assured us that we would dine well tonight. He seemed heartier than on the occasion of our last meeting, and I wondered at the reason for his lightened spirits.

“Well, man,” I said as I accepted a glass of claret. “What is it?”

I glanced across the room to where the shanath had stood, but it was no longer there.

Charles gestured towards a writing-desk in the corner of the room. “I thought it best to lock away the devices,” he said, “in case the Vark came a-hunting.”

“We can safely assume that they’ve left you unmolested?” Vaughan said.

Charles nodded. “I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of any beast answering their description.”

“And the blue light?” I said.

“No sign of that either, though I must admit I’ve not looked too closely.”

“Then out with it, man!” Vaughan demanded. “We didn’t come all this way to play guessing games!”

Charles plucked at his Adam’s apple, nodding to himself. I sat down on the chesterfield before the fire, and Vaughan accommodated himself within the padded comfort of an armchair.

Charles remained standing, glass in hand, as befits the teller of the tale we were eager to hear. “I was dining in this room last night,” he said. “It was nine o’clock. I had had a long day in the surgery at Aylesbury, and I must admit that I had partaken of a glass or two of Jasper’s claret. I was more than a little relaxed, and at first I assumed that what I’d heard was no more than something from one of those lucid dreams that sometimes visit one on the borderland of sleep. The sound was sufficiently loud, however, to wake me. I could have sworn that I heard my name called out.”

I was sitting upon the edge of my seat. “And?”

“Only silence. I thought nothing of it, and decided to retire. I was about to leave the room when I heard it again.”

“Someone calling your name?” Vaughan said.

“Very distinctly. I was awake, and relatively sober. I knew that my senses were not deceiving me.”

“And the voice came from where?” I wanted to know.

“I was standing by the door, and the voice issued from behind me.” He pointed towards the corner of the room, where the writing desk stood. “The voice said, ‘Charles! Charles, are you there?’ I turned in amazement, and not a little fear. Cautiously I approached the desk, and the voice came again, calling my name. And now I was certain - it was Jasper’s voice, and no mistake.”

I leaped up and strode over to the writing-desk. “May I?” I asked, indicating the sliding lid.

Charles nodded. “Be my guest.”

I slid back the lid to reveal the shanath, the blue egg, and the device that put me in mind of a bread-box.

Charles was saying, “I approached the desk and opened the lid, and to my astonishment found that the blue egg was glowing.”

Reverently, I took up the egg in both hands and carried it back to the fire. I sat with it before me, our eyes fixed upon its sky blue, ovoid perfection.

Charles said, “As I stared at it, my brother’s voice came again, ‘Charles, are you there?’ I had overcome my surprise, and was about to reply, when the blue glow died and Jasper’s voice came no more.”

Vaughan was lighting his pipe, frowning as he did so. “So the egg is obviously some kind of wireless device between the stars,” he said. “It sounds as though Jasper gave up when he thought you were not at home.” He grunted a laugh. “I’ve done the same with the telephone! It seems that some devices, no matter how sophisticated, suffer similar inconveniences!”

Charles went on. “I carried the egg to my bed chamber, and slept with it on my bedside table, in case Jasper was wont to try again. Needless to say, he was not. However, knowing that my brother is a creature of habit, it occurred to me that he was more than likely to try communicating with me again at the same time, nine o’clock, tonight. Hence my summons to you earlier today. I thought you might be interested.”

I smiled. “You thought right,” I said, and glanced at my watch. “It’s not yet seven.”

“In that case we have more than ample time for dinner,” Charles said. “Cook has prepared roast mutton.”

We ate in the library, the blue egg taking pride of position in the middle of the table. The food was excellent, as was the wine, and by eight-thirty I was sated and a little tipsy, and excited at the possibility of Jasper Carnegie contacting us via the blue egg.

We sat back in our chairs and loosened our belts. Vaughan glanced at me. “You seem a little distracted, Jonathon,” he said.

I was surprised at his observation, as I assumed that I had not allowed the events of London to cloud my manner.

“My father died this morning,” I said.

Vaughan and Charles made sympathetic noises.

“It was expected. He’d been ill for some time.” I refrained from telling them about my separation from Carla: how could I begin to elucidate the complexities of a failed love affair to people who had never even known the woman?

I drank my wine and considered my life in London of late, my shortcomings in the department of relationships. Carla had been my first true affair, discounting a chaste dalliance with a younger girl when I was in my mid-twenties, and the thought of my failure, of my inadequacy, filled me with a quiet despair.

I would devote myself to my writing, I declared to myself there and then - which is testament to my naïvety that I thought I might create worthwhile novels without experiencing the pain that is concomitant with meaningful, mature relationships.

Five minutes later, as I was yet again filling my glass, the blue egg gave off a great effulgent glow, lighting the entire room, and my thoughts returned to the immediate present.

I sat up and stared at the lambent egg, as did my friends.

Charles leaned forward. He licked his lips nervously. “Jasper, is that you?”

Seconds later a voice came through loud and clear, unmistakably that of Jasper Carnegie. “Charles? Are you there, Charles?”

“Jasper! You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice at last!”

“And I yours, Charles. I tried to reach you yesterday, with no luck.”

“I heard you, but too late. I thought you might try again. I summoned Vaughan and Langham to the Grange. They’re with me as I speak.”

“They are? Excellent!”

I leaned forward and addressed my words to the blue egg. “Jasper, are you well? It’s been two weeks - you must have much to relate?”

“Two weeks? Is that all? It seems much longer. I have done much in that time, travelled far. The going has been far from easy...”

I stared around the table at my friends, hardly able to credit that we were conversing with someone light years distant. It was as if we were talking with him on a telephone line from the very next room.

The blue egg pulsed. “Tell me, have there been any further developments in Hopton Wood? The portal? Have by any chance the Vark shown themselves?”

“Not that we’ve noticed,” Charles replied. “It’s been all quiet here, Jasper.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. As I’ve learned recently, the Vark are despicable beings. The pair pursuing Kathan were lone bounty hunters, and in all likelihood would not be missed.”

Vaughan spoke. “But what of you, Jasper? We’re eager to learn of your exploits among the stars. I’ve been thinking of nothing else since your departure.”

We stared at the egg, and his reply could not come soon enough. “When the shanath closed down,” Jasper said, “I travelled with Kathan to the transparent city, intending to board a transport ship off-planet.”

Vaughan leaned forward and addressed the egg. “A ship? But you still had the shanath, presumably? Couldn’t you have simply-?”

“As marvellous as the shanath is, it is also expensive to use. You have no idea of the cost of the short jump we made from Earth. Our flight is being funded by Kathan’s political party in the fourth quadrant, and we can make only the occasional jump via the portal when we find ourselves upon worlds that have no connecting transport.”

Vaughan was nodding. “We surmised as much on the drive from London.”

Jasper went on, “However, when we arrived at the spaceport, we found the city in chaos. A Vark assault ship had visited the planet the day before, and wrought havoc. A thousand humanoids lay dead or dying in the streets. Kathan told me that this was common Vark practice, in order to subjugate a world. The lizards think nothing of laying waste to entire populations, as a warning. Then, when they come to occupy the planet, the citizens thereon know better than to rebel.”

“You paint a bleak picture of the universe,” Vaughan said, with sadness in his eyes.

“The picture that Kathan has painted over the past few days is bleaker still, my friend. The Vark rule three quarters of the inhabited galaxy with a brutal, blood-thirsty regime. They see all forms of life, whether sentient or not, as their inferior. As we moved through the city, I beheld ample evidence of this fact. My friends, the horrors I beheld visited upon those innocent people...”

He fell silent for a time; we stared at each other around the table, for once speechless to a man.

At last he went on, “Eventually we found the spaceport and negotiated passage off-planet aboard a slow freighter like a mammoth ocean liner, only ten times the size.

“During the voyage, Kathan took the time to tell me something about himself. His mission in this sector is to contact and liaise between cells and bands in opposition to the Vark, raising funds and publicising the many iniquities perpetrated upon innocent peoples. Kathan is attempting to stir opposition so that when the time comes, the advance of the Vark will not be unopposed.”

“And your part in all this?” I asked.

“To be frank, I wondered this myself as I accompanied Kathan across the gulf of space. However, my friend has assured me that all hands are valuable in the fight against evil.”

“And where are you now?” Charles asked.

“Two days ago the freighter set down on a mining world, the name of which I can hardly pronounce. So far, the Vark have yet to strike this planet. Kathan is doing his best to alert the government to the threat.”

“I can only imagine what you’re experiencing,” Vaughan murmured, his gaze light years away.

Jasper laughed. “I have thought of you often, Vaughan. You would find this experience grist to the mill of your art, if dispiriting. I must admit that, as I stepped through the jump gate, I dreamed I might be entering a pacific, enlightened future realm.”

“I sometimes wish that I had stepped through the shanath too,” Vaughan said wistfully, “notwithstanding the horrors you describe.”