The Sinners of Erspia

Wordlessly the work party took hold of the cadavers one by one, by wrists and ankles, swung them once, then tossed them into the bell of the waiting orchid.

That was it. No ceremony, no farewell. The orchid closed again with a crunch, and the men set off back the way they had come, giving Laedo vague but friendly smiles as they passed.

He turned and bumped into Histrina, who without his knowing it had followed him. “Just what is it,” he said in a low, angry tone, “that makes you think you can murder whoever you like whenever you like?"

She stared at him as though he were mad. “What are you worrying about them for? They deserved to die. They were wicked."

“These people? How can you call them wicked?"

“Because they sin . They do it all the time.” Her eyes widened. “In the orchids. That's just as bad as killing people, the priest at home says."

Laedo saw that she believed what she was saying. She was not joking. Before he could frame a reply she continued, speaking waspishly. “It's terrific here, Laedo. Do you see what these people are like? They're just like little children—naughty children, but quite helpless. You can do anything you like with them.

We're going to be their king and queen. They'll all be our slaves, every one, and do our bidding."

“I thought you wanted to go on to Harkio,” Laedo reminded her wearily.

“Yes!” she said passionately, and her words came in a rush. “We'll do everything we want to do here and then we'll go to Harkio and do everything we want to do there!"

The will-numbing effect of the pod's poison must have worn off. At any rate Laedo know what he had to do, and he did it quickly. He stepped to Histrina, kneed her in the solar plexus, and jabbed his fist at her jaw as she doubled up and dropped the gun. She reeled and sprawled stunned to the ground.

Wrestling her over his shoulder, he stooped to retrieve the gun, and then he was off through the orchid jungle towards the projector station. She began to stir as he was clambering up the stairway, making him wonder if he had hit her hard enough, but she didn't struggle.

He withdrew the stairway, closed the hatch, and made for the control room. Dropping her in a corner, he activated the board. The viewscreen lit up, showing the ground hanging aslant the from top of the screen, upended by the angle of the station's inner floors.

He looked at Histrina, who was conscious now and had sat up. “Just stay there, and don't move or you'll get the same again,” he warned her.

She nursed her jaw and stared at him sulkily.

Laedo addressed the hidden controller. “We've been trying to report to Klystar,” he said. “But he isn't on this world any more. He's left. Hand control of the station over to me."

Chatter-chatter-chatter. Parchment shuddered from the machine and floated floorward.

Must report to Klystar, the burned-in words read simply. A light came on, showing that the drive unit had been energised.

There was a slight swaying sensation which was probably visual in origin, for the scene on the viewer swivelled to make the ground a vertical wall. The station had righted itself.

The drive acted in a direction parallel to the floor, in the same manner as on a surface or ocean vessel.

The horizon slid away and vanished. In an amazingly short time, the planetoid's atmosphere thinned and became black space thick with stars.

Erspia-2 dwindled.

Laedo slumped in one of the control board's two chairs, asking himself if he had really thought this thing through. His main concern had been to get Histrina sway from the planetoid before she started killing again. His hope that he could actually persuade the station to give him control of the drive was, he realized, forlorn.

“Now where are we going?” he wondered out loud.

But this time, the machine didn't answer.

FOUR

War of the Worlds

Gauzewing and her lover Flit would delight to make love in the orchards and in the bowers, and in the scented pools and wild woods, but most of all in the air, which was where they disported now, wings beating in time together as they flew at a leisurely pace through fluffy cloud and emerged into flashing sunlight. Pivoting on the breeze, Flit seized his sweetheart. They hovered with bodies pressed close together, wings quivering, squeezing in rhythmic ecstasy. Then, the final rapture spent, they parted to go tumbling and spinning like sycamore seeds, recovering to soar and dip just above the level of the treetops.

Flit alighted on a bough which presented itself like an elegantly extended hand in the roof of the forest.

Gauzewing joined him and they sauntered to the cushioned pad of a giant green leaf. There they lay down and nestled together, gazing overhead.

It was always a fascinating sight. First, easily within flying distance, were scuds of fluffy cumulus. Far, far higher, looming over everything like a vast roof, was the upper world, with its rivers, its mountains, its seas and green plains, all upside down.

The upper world had its own clouds, too, which appeared to crawl over its surface, small and white.