He went over to the wall and laid his hand against it. He felt a gentle warmth radiating from it, instead of the chill that he had unconsciously expected, since he knew he must be well down inside the ice or the chill rock below it, and more than the warmth-a gentle throbbing like the slow beating of an incredibly large and distant heart. He put his ear against the wall, trying to hear the sound more clearly and learn something about the nature of the source. He still had his ear against the wall when the door slid open and the Ice Master walked in.
He had taken off his surface clothing and wore a dark red coverall that was stretched tight over his broad chest and around his thick limbs. His feet and head were bare, and he wore on one side of his belt one of the curved swords and on the other side a small black box that looked like a pocket calculator or a radio. His head was almost entirely bald, except for a fringe of gray-flecked brown hair ending just above his ears, and all in all he looked almost more like the chief of a tribe of savages than Nilando did. Blade smiled at the thought.
The Ice Master returned the smile with a note of smugness that did nothing to put Blade at his ease. Then he took a few steps into the room and sat down on the floor. Blade noticed the Ice Master carefully kept between him and the door. Deciding that nothing was to be gained by remaining standing, he also sat down, but at a safe distance. He was not going to give the Ice Master the impression of any trust or friendliness-not now at any rate.
The Ice Master put both large hands on his knees and inclined his head in a ceremoniously slow nod. Then he spoke. His voice was higher-pitched than Blade would have naturally associated with such a large man, and his words came out slowly, calmly, and with the confidence of a man who knows he is in command of the situation and will remain that way.
«I was hoping you would make the flight north. You and Doctor Leyndt. The pilot was not so valuable, but it would have been interesting to see how he reacted to the conditioning. Although I have usually had to destroy violent ones like that in the past. I would not have destroyed the guard, except that he acted beyond his orders. That showed his conditioning was faulty. Even if I were willing to overlook it, the Menel would not be. They are very concerned about their own safety, the Menel are. But perhaps when one lives two thousand years, to be cut off at the age of, let us say, five hundred means a great loss. I do not know.»
Blade recognized the ploy. The Ice Master was hoping to establish his dominance by talking of things about which Blade knew nothing, but which were certain to arouse his interest. Having aroused that interest, he could increase the domination by throwing Blade bits of explanation, like throwing bones to a yelping dog. It was a comparatively basic interrogation technique, and for a moment Blade felt almost disappointed. Was this the best the fabled Ice Master, ruler of the snowy wastes, creator (or at least manager) of the Ice Dragons, and presumed ally of beings from beyond space (no doubt these were the Menel) could manage? Then he hastily reined in his complacency. The Ice Master was probably just exploring. It would be unwise to assume there was nothing more in his arsenal.
He was also going on. «-much impressed by the abilities you showed, both physical and mental. Of course I had no way of confirming the reports I received, but I hoped that if you were all they said you were, you would do what you have just done.» After this cryptic remark, he paused briefly, looking at Blade with a stare that seemed to want to strip him not only of all his clothing but of all his psychological barriers and expose the nakedness of his soul as well as of his body. Blade again noted the clumsiness, but again resisted any impulse to dismiss the man completely. Clumsy interrogation was often one of the most subtle techniques of a highly skilled interrogator, to get a subject feeling complacent, certain he had the measure of the man quizzing him.
«I am glad Doctor Leyndt came along. I had planned to make her one of the Girls (the way he said the word emphasized the capital letter) but now I see you care for her. At least enough to wish not to see her killed. Or thrown to the male slaves when they are given Pleasure Days. Or converted, as your pilot and the dead guard will be, into nutrient cultures for the Menel. This can be done while the subject is still alive-at least for a few hours. It appears to be quite painful.»
Blade made no attempt to control the disgust be was beginning to feel for this hulking, arrogant, and now sadistic brute. No, perhaps that was not quite right-there was nothing about the Ice Master yet revealed to suggest any sort of stupidity. In fact, there was too much heard and seen suggesting the reverse. Although he had yet to sort out what the Ice Master had done himself, what he had done with the help of the Menel, and what the Menel had done by themselves perhaps centuries before the Ice Master had even been born. He took a deep breath to calm himself and went on listening.
«Obviously I could condition you thoroughly enough to make someone of even your demonstrated strength and intelligence thoroughly docile. But that would destroy many of the same qualities that made me so-interested-in getting you into my hands.» Blade noted the barely concealed hesitation over the choice of words, suggesting a barely averted slip. So he possessed qualities of special interest to the Ice Master. That was indeed «interesting,» at least.
«You may have as many of the Girls as you wish, of course, and any extra furnishings you need can be brought in-«as the Ice Master gestured expansively around the apartment like a barkeeper welcoming a particularly good customer. «I would rather not have to even hurt Leyndt in order to influence you. She appears to be worth more than most women. You can easily see that the guards are numerous and well-armed, and you have already seen what the Pi-field that envelops my stronghold will do to more advanced weapons that might give one man a chance against superior numbers.» Blade nodded in what he hoped would come across as a gesture of boredom rather than of agreement. The Ice Master was leading up to something, although Blade found it hard to believe that anything much short of announcing the Day of Judgment justified this long a build-up.
He decided to speak. Trying to balance his voice between boredom, contempt, and stubbornness, concealing the curiosity and the disgust, he said shortly, «Well and good. So you're going to treat me like a prize laboratory specimen. Is that what you have in mind for me?»
The Ice Master managed to look shocked or at least give a fairly good imitation of it. «You are certainly not a specimen. You are an ally. You are my ally against the Menel.»
Chapter 14
After rejecting the notion that he might not have heard the Ice Master correctly, Blade went through more calculations of risk and advantage in less time than ever before in all his career in either Home or X Dimensions. Although he maintained an outward appearance of no more than casual interest, within his mind was working furiously, breaking down the Ice Master's statement into logical chunks.
The Ice Master wanted-or needed-an ally. So he had weaknesses or inadequacies. A man strong enough to stand alone does not seek allies. Doing everything oneself is always safer, but seldom possible. So-what were the man's weaknesses?
And he needed an ally against the Menel. What was he planning to do to them? Or was he merely planning to defend himself against something they were planning to do to him? How far was he planning to go against them, if he was moving in that direction? How much was he prepared to offer Blade in return for his help-assuming that it turned out Blade could in fact give any help at all?