Part 4 (1/2)

Blade took her hand again and led her firmly to the bed. ”I do understand,” he said. ”It does not matter. I do not care. Now, obey me!”

And he did understand. Zulekia was a homid, a human for all intents and purposes, and she had been caught doing what came” naturally to homids. Caught, Blade knew, was the operative word. Caught! Now she was to be punished. Blade's smile was grim, but he was not at all unhappy. This was something he recognized and understood.

And now he could wait no longer. He turned her so that she stood with her back to him. He fumbled with the catch holding on her breastplates and they fell to the floor with a little click of teksin on teksin. Zulekia stared straight before her, unmoving.

”Raise your arms a bit,” said Blade. He was whispering.

She raised her arms.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were cool golden orbs in his hands, the nipples infinitesimal b.u.t.tons only a moment before and now rising to his finger stroke. Blade's knees began to shake, he had to fight to restrain himself, and yet he was determined that this play would serve a double purpose. His mouth was close to her ear.

”You know that Honcho is watching?”

She surprised him by answering aloud. ”Yes. I know.”

”Nod,” said Blade fiercely. ”Nod! Don't speak.”

She half turned to face him, the great violet eyes filled with puzzlement, and again she saw that he did not understand. She reached to pluck out a long red-bronze strand of her hair. She let it float to the floor. Blade watched. When the hair wafted against the teksin she said: ”Honcho heard that.”

Blade suppressed anger. What was the use of raging? And it was good to know that the spiscreens were so sensitive. It was nearly beyond belief, yet he did believe. Whispering was no good. And there was no place to hide. Then he had an inspiration. Just maybe...but it could wait. Everything could wait.

He turned her about and caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again for a moment. He led her to the bed and commanded her to lie down. She did so without demur. Now that she had warned him, told him she was karno, and he did not appear to care, she was prepared to do as the G.o.d pleased. So Blade read her thoughts.

Zulekia gazed up at him, the violet eyes watching without expression. Blade stripped away her brief pants. Her pubic hair was a swatch of color against her tawniness. Blade hurled away his own clothes.

As he prepared to enter her Blade wondered, for one sickening moment, if this was another of Honcho's devilish tricks. Was this woman real? Or was this simlu? A wraith and not woman?

A moment later he knew. It was not simlu. She was real. She was more than real. Zulekia was the essence of all the women Blade had ever had, and he knew that he had never had a woman before. This was the mystery, the unattainable, and Blade was solving it and attaining it.

Zulekia made no sound. Not the whole time. She did not put her arms about Blade. Yet she moved beneath him as he had never suspected a woman could move. The odor of her arose and engulfed him. Taunting and satisfying him at the same time. He had the feeling that what she was doing was as natural as breathing to her. She did not pretend. She did not try. She simply was. Her body perfectly fitted to his, flesh exactly measured to flesh, thrust to thrust, moistness to moistness, pestle to mortar.

It was Blade who groaned and cried aloud. Blade who threshed in frenzy. Blade who poured out in one great spill of ecstasy.

They lay quietly. Blade, from the corner of his eye, saw something move in a corner of the room. He turned to see Honcho's simlu slowly fading, vanis.h.i.+ng. The mocking sneer was the last to go.

Chapter Five.

Blade had hoped to work out some secret means of communication with Zulekia, perhaps body pressures or blinking their eyes, but he was given no chance. A troop of ceboid soldiers came immediately and he was escorted back to his own chambers. Blade, glancing back at the woman, thought he detected a hint of entreaty in her violet eyes. Did she expect him to save her from her fate? Could he?

Honcho was waiting for Blade. He was wearing a breastplate and a heavy cloak of transparent teksin. In his hand he carried two odd-looking belts. They reminded Blade of cartridge belts with bandoliers attached.

The neuter handed Blade one of the belts. ”Put it on.” He touched Blade lightly to show that he was real, not simlu, then said: ”Come with me. We have a long journey to make. Perhaps it would be well if you took a cloak. We are going into the Gorge and there will be weather there.”

From his reading Blade knew that Tharnians understood weather, could in fact control it, but it had never been mentioned before. He could not help wondering how such a state of affairs would work out in England. Most people would be struck dumb!

Honcho touched a wall and a panel slid back. Blade followed the neuter into darkness. Immediately a misty blob of light appeared and began to dance along before them.

They made their way along a smooth floored pa.s.sage so narrow they had to walk in single file. Honcho led the way. For a moment Blade was greatly tempted. This was real Honcho, not simlu, and he could surely kill the neuter with his bare hands.

He fought back the urge. It was not yet the time. He was still very much a stranger in a strange land and the truth was that he needed the neuter as much as Honcho appeared to need him.

The neuter walked on rapidly, following the light He said: ”For the first time I put myself in jeopardy. You will do well to remember it and act accordingly, because if I am in jeopardy so are you. We go to see King Org, of the Pethcines, and his daughter Totha. They do not like me, nor trust me, but they must know about you. The Pethcines do not believe in the G.o.ds of THEY, and I do not think they will believe you are Mazda - they are too cunning and brutish for such beliefs - but I can make them believe that you can help us. As you can, of course. Help me!”

Blade let that pa.s.s. He was still feeling his way, but he was already sure that Honcho was up to nothing more than an old-fas.h.i.+oned palace revolution. He was planning to overthrow THEY and take power in Tharn. In some way he intended to use both Blade and the Pethcines in this. Let it wait. Bide his time. For all Blade knew THEY were better overthrown, and Blade had his own future to worry about.

Casually Blade said, ”Did you enjoy it, Honcho? Watching the woman and me? Or, rather, did your simlu enjoy it?”

”I did not watch to enjoy!” Honcho threw the words back as he strode along. ”I watched to understand. I have never seen coi performed before. Nor has any other neuter. Normally curiosity about coi is not instilled in us during our decanter period. I, of course, am different. I find coi interesting and puzzling. What did you call it in this place from which you claim to come?” During his stay in the Gorge Tower Blade and the neuter had had several long discussions. Blade had been candid about himself and his background. He had seen little point in being otherwise.

Now he found that he was enjoying baiting Honcho. ”We call it s.e.x,” he said. ”It is an emotional thing, one that a neuter cannot be expected to understand. It is also a very powerful physical drive, a hunger. Perhaps the most powerful in all the world.”

He saw Honcho nod in the soft light. The creature's voice was calm and it appeared pleased.

”I saw that. I was watching very closely. I noted your reflexive convulsions, and your face. I saw something more than physical. Something that I do not really understand yet, though I will. It appeared to me that, in this act of coi with the Maiduke woman, you were in her power for a little time. This is so?”

Blade was instantly wary. He warned himself again not to underestimate this...this thing? In that moment he began to think of Honcho as He, not as it. In a way it was a victory for Honcho, though Blade had no intention of letting him know it.

So he was curt. ”I enjoyed it. It was pleasure while it lasted. I was not in her power.”

”I think otherwise,” said Honcho. ”I cannot express it, because we do not have the words in Tharnian. But it is there.”

He was cunning. Blade admitted the loss of another round and was not surprised when Honcho said: ”You will now care what becomes of Zulekia? You would wish, perhaps to save her from the punishment that has been decreed?”

Blade raged inwardly. There might not be words in Tharnian for love, or tenderness, or even for casual human affection, but Honcho had seen the point readily enough.

”I would not like to see her harmed,” he admitted. ”If it is possible to save her I would do so. What is her punishment to be?”

Honcho laughed and the sound was cruel. ”To be given to the ceboids, of course. To all of them, even to the lowest. They are very fond of homid women. Then she will be given to the ceboid females, who will tear her to bits and toss the pieces into the Gorge.”

Blade, who was not an easy or a soft man, did not like to think of that. ”I would not have this happen,” he said.

Honcho said: ”I did not think so. It is in my power to prevent it. I will prevent it, as long as you obey my orders and try no treachery against me. Understand that well, Blade. I have placed the woman in a new place, a very secret place, under guard of my most trusted ceboids. She remains safe so long as you are my man, my Mazda, my HE WHO COMES TO THEY.” And Honcho laughed again.

Blade did not answer. The man was a ferret. A cunning and d.a.m.nable ferret who, without even understanding it, had sought out a weakness in Blade.

The tunnel widened now. The dancing light stopped and hovered over a dark circular hole in the floor. Blade noted again that the Tharnians knew and used the circle concept, though they had long ago discontinued use of the wheel as inefficient.

Four ceboid soldiers were guarding the shaft. They bowed obsequiously as Honcho approached. They wore armor, carried swords, and were equipped with the teksin air guns. Honcho spoke briefly to them in their own language and they stepped aside, watching Blade with bloodshot animal eyes.

Honcho adjusted the belt he wore by turning a dial on it. He told Blade to do the same. The big man did so, understanding now that the belts were some sort of antigravity mechanism. It was perfectly reasonable that the Tharnians, who could harness magnetism and magnetic flux, could also control gravity.

The neuter stepped into the hole and began to float downward. Blade did the same. It was a pleasant sensation, like descending in a very slow elevator. Very slowly, side by side, they floated down and down into the darkness.

Honcho was silent for a long time. Then: ”We have many magkronos to go. So listen carefully, Blade. And obey absolutely.”

The neuter talked for a long time, while Blade listened and absorbed.