Toller’s head filled with crimson thunder. His mind blurred, became a montage of smeared visions of Vantara and death-hued alien predators; and the rage, a special rage—beguiling and repugnant, shameful and joyous—took hold of his being. He pulled the alien towards him, at the same time going in hard with the sword, and it was only a startled cry from Steenameert which returned him to sanity.
You hurt me! The alien’s silent words were shaded with astonishment and the beginnings of fearful comprehension. You could have done it! You were prepared to kill me!
“That’s what I have been telling you, greyface,” Toller ground out.
My name is Divivvidiv.
“You resemble a corpse to begin with, greyface,” Toller went on, “and it would occasion me not the slightest qualm of conscience were I forced to reconcile appearance with reality. I repeat, if you do not tell me—”
He broke off, disconcerted, as the alien’s face rippled with muscular convulsions, and the frail shoulder gripped in his left hand began to vibrate in tune with internal tremors. The black-rimmed mouth underwent asymmetrical changes, flowing in one direction and then another like a sea anemone pulled by conflicting currents, sending threads of discharged saliva snaking weightlessly through the air. Blurred mental echoes picked up by Toller told him that his captive had never been directly threatened with death before. At first it had been impossible for Divivvidiv even to believe that his life was in danger, and now he was undergoing an extremely violent emotional reaction.
Toiler, receiving his first insight into a culture totally dissimilar to his own, responded by renewing the pressure of his sword point. “The women, greyface … the women! Where are they?”
They have been transported to my home world. Divivvidiv was regaining some physical control, but his words reeked with fear, revulsion and barely contained hysteria. They are in a secure place—millions of miles from here—in the capital city of the most advanced civilization in this galaxy. I can assure you that it is far beyond the abilities of a Primitive like you to alter those circumstances in any way, therefore the logical thing for you to do is—
“Your logic is not my logic,” Toller cut in, hardening his voice in the hope of concealing the dismay which was washing through him. “If the women are not brought back unharmed, I will send you to another world—one from which no man has ever returned. I trust my meaning is clear…”
Chapter 10
The room was large and almost bare, its principal item of furniture being a blue oblong which looked like a bed except that it lacked restraint nets. Ranged around the walls were rectangular and circular panels which continuously changed color, slowly in some cases, rapidly in others. The floor was of a grey-green seamless material closely perforated with small holes. Toller noticed that his feet tended to stick to the floor, obviating the need for zero-gravity lines, and he guessed the holes formed part of a vacuum system.
He was, however, giving little thought to his surroundings—his attention being concentrated on Divivvidiv, who was busy removing his skysuit. The silvery garment had seams which opened readily when a toggle was drawn along them, an intriguing feature which enabled Divivvidiv to shed the suit in only a few seconds, revealing a frail-looking body of humanoid form and proportions. The alien’s thin frame was clad in a one-piece suit made up of dozens of sections of black material which overlapped like birds’ feathers.
The outlandishness of the costume; the bald grey cranium; the virtually noseless, corpselike face—all of these combined to inspire in Toller a powerful xenophobia which was augmented by the discovery that the alien had a smell. The odor was not unpleasant in itself—it was sweet and soupy, like a rich beef broth—but the incongruity of the source rendered it highly distasteful to Toller. He glanced at Steenameert and wrinkled his nose. Steenameert, who had been surveying the strange room, did likewise.
You may be interested to learn that you also have an objectionable smell, Divivvidiv commented. Though I suspect that yours is much to do with inadequate hygiene and would draw complaints from members of your own species.
Toller smiled coldly. “Recovering from your little bout of the shakes, are you? Backbone beginning to stiffen again? Let me remind you that I can still end your life at any second and am quite prepared to do so.”
You are a blusterer, Toller Maraquine. At heart you doubt your ability to fulfill the role you have assumed in society, and you try to disguise that fact in various ways—one of which is the issuing of flamboyant threats.
“Take care, greyface!” Toller was disconcerted at having a ghoulish figure from some distant region of the universe so casually penetrate the innermost recesses of his mind and then blurt out its findings, revealing secrets which he scarcely ever admitted to himself. He glanced at Steenameert, but the younger man had resumed his scanning of the room, almost certainly being diplomatic.
I advise you to divest yourselves of those clumsy insulated suits, Divivvidiv replied unconcernedly. Crude though they look, they are probably quite efficient and will soon make you highly uncomfortable at these temperatures.
Toller, who was already sweating, gazed suspiciously at Divivvidiv. “If you are hoping to surprise me while I am entangled with—”
Nothing could be further from my thoughts. Divivvidiv was now free of his silver suit and was standing close to Toller, swaying slightly above anchored feet. You know that.
The multiplex levels of communication inherent in mental contact left Toller with no doubt about the alien’s truthfulness. But, he wondered, could that be a telepathic technique? Could super-speech be a vehicle for a super-lie, one which carried total conviction for the listener?
“Keep the pistol on him while I get out of this suit,” he said to Steenameert. “If he moves … if he even blinks… put a ball in him.”
Your thought processes are unusually complicated for a Primitive. Divivvidiv seemed increasingly at his ease, and his silent words might have been shaded with amusement.
“I’m glad you realize you are not dealing with simpletons,” Toller said as he struggled out of his skysuit. “And why are you becoming so satisfied with yourself, greyface? What reason is there for it?”
Reason is the reason. An incongruously human chuckle escaped Divivvidiv’s black-rimmed mouth. Now that I have had the opportunity to appraise your mental structure more thoroughly—and find you fairly amenable to reason—I realize that I can protect myself and my interests simply by making your position clear to you. The more information 1 impart to you, the more stable our relationship will be. That is why I suggested moving to these more comfortable surroundings, where we can converse without so many distractions.
“Nothing can distract me in this matter,” Toller said, wondering if the full extent of the lie would be apparent to Divivvidiv. The mode of communication alone was enough to swamp his mind with wonder, and when the outlandish nature and appearance of the alien—to say nothing of the bizarre circumstances of the meeting—were taken into consideration it was a matter of some surprise to him that his brain was able to function at all. He would have to keep Vantara in the forefront of his thoughts at all times. Nothing else mattered but the need to find and rescue her, and return her to the safety of Overland…