Exposure
So they dropped the matter there, completely unable to solve the
problem, each convinced that his theory was correct, none without a
lingering doubt but that the other's might be true. And the days sped
by.
They were fruitful days. Lake, who had a flair for the philological,
spent much time studying the Gaanelian language. To Red and Ramey, as
professional airmen, what was of particular interest was the matter
of spaceflight. Gaanelian ships, Sugriva told them, called regularly
at every inferior conjunction of Earth and Venus, Videlian craft less
frequently. "But often enough," the blue lord admitted ruefully.
"And these ships--" demanded Ramey eagerly. "Their method of
propulsion? What is it?"
Sugriva frowned. "I am not sure I can tell you, my friend. I have
searched my brain for the words in your tongue with which to
explain--but they do not exist. It is a concept utterly foreign to your
culture. The nearest I can come to an explanation is to say there are
'fields of force' between the planets, and on these fields the ships
feed and ride."
"An electrical transmission of some sort, perhaps?"
But again the protector of Chitrakuta looked baffled. "Now there is
a word in your tongue," he apologized, "which is foreign to _me_. A
concept of your civilization _I_ cannot grasp."
And Ramey realized suddenly that despite its many magnificent
scientific achievements, the Gaanelian race was apparently in total
ignorance of electricity! It was used nowhere; not for heating,
lighting, communication. He tried to explain the phenomenon to Sugriva,
but it was a hopeless task.
"I am sorry, Ramey. But that is a study in which I am not adept. If
you will but wait until the next spacecraft arrives, a matter of but a
few months, there will be those on board with whom you can talk more
understandingly."
And with this Ramey had to be content.
But if the blue lord's knowledge of mechanical science was deficient,
he lacked few other qualifications of leadership. During the stay of
the time-exiles was held the grand parlay for which representatives had
been summoned from every corer of the civilized eastern world.
* * * * *
Sugriva proved superbly his right to rule. To the gratification of
the assembled humans and the disgruntlement of the Lord Ravana he
laid down the Law. That there should be at all times peace and amity
between the natives of Earth and their foreign visitors. That Earthmen
should feel always free to call upon those of Venus for information and
aid in new projects. That the chosen of Earth's youth should gather
annually in the nearest Gaanelian colony for instruction in knowledge
and culture. That Gaanelians and Videlians should at all times respect
the territorial rights of Earth's races, and should at no time make any
demands upon persons or services of terrestrial subjects for which the
Earthmen did not receive complete and satisfactory compensation.
There had to be teeth in this pronouncement. Sugriva bared them
plainly, for the second time exhibiting the sternness which underlay
his placid nature when he thundered determination to make all abide by
this covenant, under pain of the displeasure and (if need be) the armed
reprisal of the Gaanelian overlord. He did not hint what nature these
sanctions might assume except to Ramey Winters, and then on only one
occasion.
"Guard well the Bow of Rudra, Ramey Winters. The day may yet dawn when
we will have need of it."
Ramey said, "But what is it supposed to do, Sire? I have experimented
with it, but nothing seems to happen when I finger the grips. It's a
pretty useless hunk of ordnance, if you ask me."
Sugriva said, "I am quite content that you do not know how to operate
the Bow, my son. It is too dreadful a weapon to be lightly exploited.
But if the time ever should come for its use--"
So the pact was drawn up, and the several races became signatories. It
was a direct and challenging blow to the ambitions of the Lord Ravana,
one that he swallowed with difficulty. But swallow it he did--though
perhaps one of the greatest contributing factors to his signing was
the fact that at the final meeting were ranged beside Sugriva the
time-exiles--and that in Ramey's ready hand dangled nonchalantly the
dreaded Bow of Rudra.
* * * * *
But the days at Chitrakuta, for such by now they had all learned to be
the Gaanelian name for the temple they had known as Angkor Vat, were
not all concerned with study or the grim business of government. There
were hours of relaxation, too.
Red Barrett, for one, was thoroughly enjoying the championship of
the beautiful damsel who had been placed in his care days before. Of
course she proved a baffling bundle of loveliness in some respects. As
on the first day, when Ramey chanced upon the duo in time to hear Red
demanding perplexedly, "How? How's that? Come again, Toots!"
And: "Ich hight Evavne ab Daffydd y Marwnadd, mihr gneight," repeated
his lovely charge demurely.
Red moaned. "Hey, Doc!" he yelled, "Hey, Sheila! Anybody got any
spirits of ammonia with them? Toots, here, has the hiccups!"
Ramey went to his chum's aid. "What's wrong, Red?"
"It's Toots, here," complained Red aggrievedly. "I said to her, 'Look,
Toots, I can't keep calling you "Toots" all the time. What's your real
name?' So instead of giving me a straight answer, she makes with the
double talk."
Dr. Aiken, who had been listening with amusement, now spoke up. "But
the young lady _did_ answer you, Barrett. She said she was 'Evavne,
daughter of David and Marian.' And--" The old man smiled slyly--"I
believe you've made something of an impression, my boy. She called you
her--er--'knight'!"
"Yeah?" grinned Barrett. "Well, gee! That's okay, ain't it? Evavne,
huh? Not a bad handle, Toots. But after this, you better talk English."
"She _is_ talking English, Red."
"Huh? Aw, now, Doc--"
"Well, let us say, then, she is speaking the ancient tongue from which
modern English derives. I fancy--" said Dr. Aiken speculatively--"our
charming friend is a daughter of one of those races which first settled
the British Isles. A Pict, or a Celt."
"All I got to say," grumbled Red, "is that going in the _vilyishna_
with us didn't do much good if that's the best English she can talk.
Come on, Toots. You and me is going to see Sugriva and have him arrange
another language-exchange in the recording booth."
And together they left on the expedition which was to remove their last
lingual difficulty. They had no other kind.
* * * * *
Ramey Winters, too, was finding the soft, moonbright nights of
Chitrakuta conducive to thoughts far removed from the grim ones of
hatred, war and death that had governed his life until his translation
into this elder world.
In Sheila Aiken he had found a woman who, after all these years of
avowed misanthropy, had the power of arousing within him strange
sensations. New sensations to Ramey Winters, perhaps, but sensations
which any wise men could have told him were as old as humankind.
There was about her a _something_--a peace, a quietude, a
gentleness--which filled a vital need in his makeup, which calmed
and complemented the flamelike restlessness of his own nature. With
propinquity came greater admiration for Sheila Aiken. And as the days
and nights, especially the nights, threw them into ever increasingly
intimate contact, admiration deepened into something Ramey thought,
believed, feared he could name--but dared not.
Vainly he reminded himself that he was a fighting man, a soldier. That
all this madness was a strange interlude out of which sooner or later
he must return to take his ordained place in the world he had left.
That he must neither pledge himself nor demand pledges of one whose
world was so far removed from his own.
But these decisions were more easily made than kept. And if, strolling
at her side in the moonlight, Ramey never actually swept Sheila into
his arms as he wished and knew he could, if he never actually spoke
the words that with increasing frequency trembled on his lips, perhaps
it was not necessary after all. For Sheila Aiken, though she had spent
her twenty years living with men in wild, mannish places, was still
inherently a woman. And she understood these things, and gloried in
them.
And the days and the nights were sweet, and Chitrakuta was an Eden. But
even Eden had its serpent....
* * * * *
Rakshasi had almost slipped from Ramey's memory. A week or more had
passed since he had met her in the council hall of Sugriva when late
one night there came to him a Videlian warrior bearing the message that
the Lady Rakshasi awaited him in her apartment. He was urged to come,
pleaded the messenger. A matter of grave importance.
Wondering, Ramey followed the man through darkened corridors to that
section of the imperial city which housed the Videlian visitors.
If it were business the Lady Rakshasi wished to discuss, the manner
of her approach to the subject would have been a revelation to the
financial tycoons of Ramey's day. For when he entered her apartment it
was to find a small chamber, intimately draped, warmly scented with
the breath of perfume, and exotically furnished with a tumbled pile of
silks and furs upon which gracefully reclined the golden woman of Mars.
In that room, enticingly dark save for small wicks guttering in corner
niches, the Lady Rakshasi was more than ever the sleek, slumbrous cat
of the jungles. The dusty emerald of her eyes lighted with invitation
as he entered. She purred a word of command and the servant vanished.
She and Ramey were alone.
"My Lord is gracious," she whispered in her husky voice, "to answer
thus the plea of his humble servant." She touched the soft pillows
beside her invitingly. "Would my Lord tarry and rest?"
He was, an inner consciousness warned Ramey, playing with fire. But an
instinct stronger than reason lowered him beside her. This woman had
something! The Hollywood of the world he had left behind would call
it "oomph." More strictly rhetorical admirers would call it charm,
fascination, allure. But he would have been a poor man indeed who
could go without learning what the Lady Rakshasi wanted.
"Yes, my Lady?" asked Ramey. "What would you of me?"
* * * * *
The Lady Rakshasi turned slowly on one elbow, studied him long and
lazily before answering. When she spoke her tone was servile still, but
there was a question in her voice, and the suspicion of a challenge in
her curious, heavy-lidded eyes.
"I called thee, my Lord," she replied, "to warn thee of an evil rumor
which has of late gathered boldness in the temples. Believe truly that
thy servant means no ill, nor doubts thy glory. But there are those who
whisper that thou and thy companions are not gods at all--but only men!
Some strangely say, men of another day."
"But, of course--" began Ramey. Then stopped, remembering the necessary
deceit by which Sugriva hoped to maintain peace in the colony. He
finished lamely--"But of course they jest! Surely all saw us come from
the heart of the holy image?"
Rakshasi smiled. "Aye, even so, my Lord. Thus told I them. But there be
ever those who doubt. And they murmur that ofttimes the actions of thy
companions are strangely ungodlike. They eat, they sleep like mortals.
From place to place they transport themselves on foot rather than by
instantaneous translation, as all men know is the way of gods. And many
are the questions they ask, when all know the gods are omniscient."
It was not, Ramey had to concede ruefully, not just a chink in
the armor. It was a gaping hole, big enough to drive a Mack truck
through. He and his friends _were_ touring around Chitrakuta like a
bevy of wide-eyed schoolkids, and certainly putting on one hell of an
unecclesiastical show!
"When the gods walk amongst men," he told her firmly, "they conduct
themselves in the fashion of their worshippers. It is no man's right to
question these things."
"Aye, my Lord!" This time Rakshasi's agreement was more swift. He had,
Ramey thought, pulled a successful sandy. "So told I them, yea, and
even my brother Ravana which lent an ear to their impious murmurings.
These are in truth the gods, spake I, come to mete justice and right to
their children. Still--" Here her voice took on a plaintive, querulous
tone--"Still cannot we of Videlia understand why the gods should show
favor to the blue lord of Gaanelia, when it is _our_ people which have
ever been their most ardent followers. All know that the blue ones of
Gaanelia are a cynical, impious race. Theirs is a culture of agnostic
science. Many, indeed, have declared there are no gods at all, but only
primal causes--"
"Hold, my Lady!" interrupted Ramey. "The protector Sugriva is a good
man--"
* * * * *
A note of passionate rebellion throbbed in the golden one's voice. "A
good man, aye!" she cried witheringly. "In his feeble way! But they
are a decadent, dying race, the Gaanelians! Where as we of Videlia--"
A tenseness gripped her figure, and the shadowy amber of her breast
rose and fell with her emotion--"are a great and growing race, young
and strong. As the gods," she cried challengingly, "have much to offer
men, so have their followers much to offer the gods! Allegiance and
devotion, aye, and sacrifice!
"Speak you, Lord Ramey--were it not to the gods' own benefit that they
should cast down these weaklings of Gaanelia, and raise to the heights
those who are their own true believers?"
Her meaning was clear. Ramey stared at her with sudden sharp
intentness, a warning bell chiming in his ears. Here was open proof of
the faithlessness Sugriva had feared. A plea for divine approval of
Videlian ambitions. It was a good thing he had come here tonight. He
must nip this movement in the bud.
"The gods, my Lady Rakshasi," he said sternly, "desire naught but
peace. They will neither sponsor nor permit the elevation of one race
over another. All must live in amity."
The golden amazon's excitement died. Her voice lost its challenging
note and became softer, throatier, more insinuating. She stirred
nearer him, and the silk rustled languid invitation. The warmth of her
body touched his own, hip and thigh, and the scent of her hair was a
titillation to his nostrils.
"But, say, my Lord," she whispered, "do not even the gods look with
favor upon those who please them?"
The warning bell was clamoring brassily now. It rose and fell with the
pound of Ramey's pulse. His temples hammered, his lips were parched,
and forgotten now were Sugriva and Dr. Aiken, Red, the O'Briens, all
those who had accompanied him into this strange adventure.
Even the mist-blue eyes of Sheila Aiken were a far memory, colorless
and without warmth.
He choked, "It is ... true ... that even a god might look with longing
upon ... one like you, Lady Rakshasi."
And she was closer still, the warmth of her tempting-near, her sleek,
golden body yielding to his own, her breath upon his lips.
* * * * *
"Thou and I, if I delight thee, my Lord," she whispered. "Together
might we raise Videlia into the power and glory which is rightly its
own. With thy mighty arm, and with the strong Bow of Rudra, we will
sweep all others before us. Nor shall we stand alone. For, lo--there is
even my brother Ravana, whose heart sickens with hunger for the goddess
Sheilacita who is in thy train."
Now the warning bell, which had become a faint tolling whisper almost
submerged beneath the waves that engulfed Ramey Winters, burst suddenly
into full, reverberant cry! With one shrugging movement he had thrust
the tawny temptress from him and was on his feet.
"What!" he cried. "Ravana--and Sheila? You mean he _dares_--" His brow
flamed with a sudden, red rage; anger that was darker still with the
realization of the trap into which he had almost let his senses betray
him. "No, Rakshasi! That cannot be! Sheila belongs to _me_! No other
man--"
Then he stopped. For the Lady Rakshasi, too, was on her feet, panting
and furious. The dusty emerald of her eyes was now the cold, burning
green of glacial ice. Even in her outrage, her quick mind grasped the
implication of his words.
"No other _man_, my Lord? Then they were right! Thou are no god, but
only a pretender! And Sugriva has lied. Well, he shall pay for his
deceit. And you, too, poor mortal thing who prefers a pallid shadow to
Rakshasi, you, too, shall regret this night. _Go!_"
She pointed a rage-trembling finger to the door. With a sick
helplessness Ramey realized he had spoiled everything. To stay here
now, to argue with this unreasoning amazon, would only make matters
worse. He left.
* * * * *
In the late morning he woke from a tortured slumber to find Red Barrett
leaning over him, shaking him. The brick-top was grinning mockingly.
"Boy, you sure were knocking 'em off. Know what time it is? Almost ten.
Stir your stumps, keed; we got stuff and things to do today. Golly,
your eyes look like a pair of frayed button-holes! If we was back in
our own, honest-to-gosh time, I'd say you was out on a bender last
night."
Ramey said drowsily, "Not a bad idea at that. When we do get back to
our own time, which I hope will be soon, we'll have to give it a try,
Red. A good one."
"Here's your pants," said Red. "Got good news this morning, anyhow.
Know what happened during the night? That big, overgrown hunk of yellow
nastiness and his gang pulled up stakes and scrammed out of here. I'm
sure glad to see the last of him, ain't you? Though I got to admit that
sister of his was a snappy looking--what's the matter, Ramey?"
Ramey, fully conscious now, was pawing anxiously through the tumbled
silks and furs that were his bed. "Where is it?" he demanded. "Have you
seen it?"
"Seen what?"
"The Bow!" rasped Ramey. "Rudra's weapon! It was here last night. Now I
can't find it anywhere. And--" His eyes suddenly widened--"Ravana left
Chitrakuta! Damnation! If he--Come on!"
With the now equally alarmed Red at his heels, Ramey dashed from the
chamber. He hadn't far to go. He found the others--Dr. Aiken, both
O'Briens, Sheng-ti, Sugriva--in the central court on which his room
abutted. They were gathered in a tight knot; as one man they turned at
his cry.
"Sugriva!" he called, "Order out the troops! There's trouble afoot. Red
says Ravana left last night--and the Bow of Rudra is gone with him!
Well, don't just stand there like that, staring at me! _Do_ something!"
But it was Dr. Aiken who answered. There were white lines about the old
man's lips that Ramey had never seen there before. His eyes were hard
and worried. "The Bow!" he cried. "The Bow, too, Ramey? You hear that,
Sugriva--?"
Despair seemed to settle like a black cloud over the Gaanelian's eyes;
his shoulders sagged, and his voice was ominous. "I hear, indeed! And
now is our plight truly perilous. For if they have the Bow, too--"
"What's this all about?" roared Ramey. "What do you mean, 'the Bow,
_too_'? What else is missing?"
Syd O'Brien stared at him morbidly.
"We don't know how they did it, Ramey," he said, "or why. But when
Ravana and his gang pulled out of here before dawn, they not only took
with them the Bow of Rudra. They also--kidnapped Sheila!"
[Illustration: The two factions met on the causeway in furious combat.]