Captain Mubbers was a little surprised. Then he shook his head and pushed My Lady Charlotina towards the ship.
"Perhaps we should allow him just a brief ravishment," she said.
"Too late," said Bishop Castle, and he fired again. "Who loaded this gun, Jherek? We must hope for something a little less restrained."
The second illusion now intruded upon the first. Into the delicate blue and white scenery there lumbered a monstrous ten-legged beast which was predominantly reptilian, with huge eyes which shot flames as it turned its fierce head this way and that.
Captain Mubbers yelled and aimed his instrument. He managed to destroy a fair amount of the wood beyond the blue and white landscape and the flame-eyed monster, but they were unaffected.
"I think it's time to slip away," said Bishop Castle, pulling the trigger once more and introducing bright abstract patterns which whizzed erratically through the air, clashing horribly with the blue and white and making the reptilian beast irritable. The Lat were firing repeatedly at the monster, backing away from it as it advanced (by luck) towards them.
"Oh," said the Iron Orchid in disappointment as Jherek took her by the arm and dragged her into the forest, "can't we watch?"
"Can you remember where we left your air car, Jherek?" The Duke of Queens was panting and excited. "Isn't this fun?"
"I think it was that way," Jherek replied. "But perhaps it would be wise to stop and make another?"
"Would that be sporting, do you think?" asked the Iron Orchid.
"I suppose not."
"Come on then!" She raced off through the trees and had soon vanished in the gloom. Jherek followed her, with Bishop Castle close on his heels.
"Mother, I'm not sure it's wise to separate."
Her voice drifted back to him. "Oh, Jherek, you've become joyless, my juice!"
But soon he had lost her altogether and he stopped, exhausted, beside a particularly large old tree. Bishop Castle had kept up with him and now handed him the deceptor-gun. "Would you mind holding this for a bit, Jherek. It's quite heavy."
Jherek took it and tucked it into his clothes. He heard the sound of something large blundering through the forest. Trunks fell, branches cracked, fires started.
"It's particularly realistic, isn't it?" Bishop Castle seemed almost of the impression that he had made the monster himself. He winced as something howled past his nose and destroyed a line of trees. "The Lat seem to be catching up with us." He dived into the undergrowth, leaving Jherek still undecided as to the direction he should take.
And now, because he might be killed forever, before he could see Mrs. Amelia Underwood again, he was filled by panic. It was a new emotion and part of his mind took an objective curiosity in it. He began to run. He was careless of the branches which struck his face. He ran on and on, through darkness, away from the sounds and the destruction. Danger was a wall which seemed to surround him, in escaping one source he encountered another. Once he bumped against someone in the dark and was about to speak when they said, "Ferkit!" He moved away as quietly as possible and heard a blood-chilling shriek from somewhere else.
He ran, he fell, he crawled, got up and ran again. His chest was painful and his brain was useless. He thought that he might be sobbing and he knew that the next time he would fall and not have the will to rise.
He tripped. He lost his balance. He was reconciled to Death. He went sprawling down the sides of an old pit, bits of earth and rock falling with him, and was about to congratulate himself that he might after all have found relative safety when the bottom of the pit gave way and he was sliding down something which was smooth and plainly built for this purpose. Down and down he slid on the metal chute, feeling sick with the speed of his descent, unable to reach his power rings, unable to slow himself, until he must have been almost a mile underground. Then, at last, the chute came to an end and he landed, winded and dazed, on what appeared to be a pile of mildewed quilts.
The light was dim and it was artificial. After a while he sat up, feeling tenderly over his body for broken bones, but there were none. A peculiar sense of well-being filled him and he lay back upon the quilts with a yawn, hoping that his friends had managed to get back to the landau. He would rest and then consider the best method of joining them. A power ring would doubtless bore a tunnel upwards for him, then he could drift to the surface by means of counter-gravity. He felt extremely sleepy. He could hardly believe in the events which had just taken place. He was about to close his eyes when he heard a small, lisping voice saying:
"Welcome, sir, to Wonderland!"
He looked round. A small girl stood there. She had large blue eyes and blonde curly hair. Her expression was demure.
"You're very well made," said Jherek admiringly. "What are you, exactly?"
The small girl's expression was now one of disgust. "I'm a little girl, of course. Aren't I?"
8. The Children of the Pit
Jherek stood up and dusted at his white draperies, saying kindly: "Little girls have been extinct for thousands of years. You're probably a robot or a toy. What are you doing down here?"
"Playing," said the robot or toy; then it stepped forward and kicked his ankle, "And I know what I am. And I know what you are. Nurse said we had to be careful of grown-ups — they're dangerous."
"So are little girls," said Jherek feelingly, rubbing an already battered leg. "Where is your Nurse, my child?"
He had to admit he was surprised at how lifelike the creature was, but it could not be a child or he would have heard about it. Save for himself and Werther de Goethe, children had not been born on Earth for millennia. People were created, as the Duke of Queens had created Sweet Orb Mace, or recreated themselves, as King Rook had become Bishop Castle. Having children, after all, was rather a responsibility. Creating mature adults was difficult enough!
"Come on," said the being, taking his hand. She led him down a tunnel of pink marble which, to Jherek's eye, had something in common with the style and materials of the ancient cities, though the tunnel seemed relatively new. The tunnel opened into a large room crammed with beautiful reproductions of antiques, some of which Jherek recognized as miniature whizz-mobiles, rocking horses, furry partridges, seasores, coloured quasimodos and erector sets. "This is one of our play-rooms," she told him. "The school room is through there. Nurse should be out soon with the others. I'm playing truant," she added proudly.
Jherek admired his surroundings. Someone had gone to considerable trouble to reproduce an old nursery. He wondered if this, like the wood above, could be attributed to Lord Jagged. It certainly showed his finesse.
Suddenly a door opened and into the room poured a score of boys and girls, all of about the same apparent age, the boys in shirts and shorts, the girls in frilly dresses and aprons. They were shouting and laughing, but they stopped when they saw Jherek Carnelian. Their eyes widened, their mouths hung open.
"It's an adult," said the self-styled child. "I caught it in one of the corridors. It fell through the roof."
"Do you think it's a Producer?" asked one of the boys, stepping up to Jherek and looking him over.
"They're fatter than that," another girl said. "Here comes Nurse, anyway. She'll know."
Behind them loomed a tall figure, grim of visage, clothed in grey steel, humanoid and stern. A robot, much larger than Jherek, built to resemble a middle-aged woman in the costume of the Late Multitude Cultures. Her voice, when she spoke, was a trifle rusty and her limbs were inclined to creak when they moved. Cold blue eyes glared from the steel face.