Part 8 (2/2)
My eyes drifted casually to the blank, cold stare of the old Jivro, to the mournful liquid eyes of the Schree, on to the apparently disinterested gaze of the queen's friend. The only ominous feeling I got was from the eyes of the aged insect-man, and my deduction that they were the source of the evils of these people was strengthened. The chills ran down my back, and something within me thrilled as I understood that this queen was playing a part to please the Jivros, that her interests were actually divergent. Her voice was saying:
”You could help us greatly by explaining your life to us, who are so different; make it possible that in the future trade and cultural intercourse might spring up between the two alien ways of life. There will be no peace without understanding, you realize!”
”I quite agree with your views, and will help you in any way that I can,” I said loudly, for the old Jivro seemed to be hearing with difficulty. He leaned back at my words, seemed to relax as if pleased.
The queen turned to her companion, smiled and said:
”Genner, you will see that he is taken care of as a guest, and endeavor to learn what you can from him. I will hold you responsible for the success of this experiment.”
”Very well,” Genner murmured, ”but it seems to me, Wananda Highest, that we can never allow the wall of secrecy between ourselves and the people of this planet to be breached. To consider doing otherwise ...” for an instant his eye hesitated upon hers, then he went on, ”... could hardly be logical, but of course, there is much we could learn from them, and they from us. That, I see, as the only purpose of this exception.”
Just then a great hullabaloo broke out in the corridors outside, the door burst open, and into the room three captives were borne, half-carried, half-pushed. I stood back out of the way, and the three were prodded into a row in front of the low table. Among them I recognized with a start my erstwhile guard, Holaf, of the Zervs.
Wananda leaned forward, her eyes glittering with sudden triumph, her voice thrilling with a cruel mocking note.
”More of the skulking Zervs fail to avoid our warriors! Where did you find them, Officer?”
”They were attempting to release the captive Croen female in the crystal prison of the cave of the Golden statue, your highness. Our spies among the Zervs informed us of the attempt.”
Wananda's eyes blazed at Holaf. Her voice became more shrill with something almost like fear. The three men shrank back visibly from her fury.
”So it is not enough you plot treason, you must also turn against your G.o.ds? You know the Croen powers, you know what she would do to us all, you included. But so that you can overcome the Schrees, nothing else to you is sacred, nothing too vile for you to do. Away with them, let them become the least among the mindless men.”
The tall Schree warriors, their long faces expressionless, started to hustle the three captives toward the door again. Holaf wrenched free, turned, his face contorted with hatred.
”You have hounded us until we are but few, Wananda the Faithless, but you will never conquer us. We still have your doom in our hands, and it will find you out. Death to you, woman without mercy, creature without soul! These sacred Jivros plot your downfall, and your people pray that they will succeed. The ancient Jivro rule would be better than the justice you administer, you snake in a woman's fles.h.!.+”
The Schree holding Holaf's arms let go, tugged a weapon from his belt, struck Holaf over the head with it. He slumped unconscious, with blood running over his face from the blow. The three were taken out, and Wananda leaned back. Seeing my intent face, she waved a hand to her companion, Genner, who rose to his feet and motioning to me, preceded me from the room by another door than that which I had entered. I followed him.
Apparently I was on my honor, for no guard followed, and Genner bore no weapons I could see but a little jeweled dagger in his belt.
As he walked a step ahead of me, I asked:
”Who is this Croen that Holaf spoke of, in the crystal column. I saw her, wondered at her, in the room of the golden G.o.ddess. Why do they think she could be released?”
”The Croen are a powerful race of wizards, Carlin Keele. They live far off from our home planets in s.p.a.ce, and they have a code of conduct that makes them monitors, doctors, interferers in all matters of other races'
business. If she were released, she would at once attempt to overthrow our power, to set up a state after the Croen pattern. It is their way.
They consider themselves as superior to all others, and they do have a knowledge of nature which they use to impose their will upon all peoples. They are wors.h.i.+pped as G.o.ds by many primitive people, and so consider themselves above all laws but their own. She was captured many years ago in an attempt to overthrow the rule of Wananda upon a small satellite planet. Wananda did not kill her, but placed her in suspended animation within the protective crystal plastic. Our queen intends to revive her and study her mind for her wisdom, but we have not had time because of the press of events. Soon, now, she will become a tool in our hands to build greater the eminence of Wananda.”
”Peculiar looking creature, yet attractive,” I murmured.
”The Croens are physically beautiful, but they are warlike and cruel, they do not desire peace and the way of life of the Schrees and Jivros is an irritant to them. They hate and despise us, and we return them the favor.”
I did not reply, but my heart seemed to throb in sympathy with the Zerv attempt to free the beautiful creature from her living tomb.
”Could she turn the tables for the Zervs if they had succeeded?”
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