The Enchantress of World's End
- Автор: Картер Лин Спрэг
- Серия: Gondwane Epic #2
- Год: 101
- Язык: английский
- Год: DAW
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Enchantress of World's End». Краткое содержание книги:
Gondwane... When all the kingdoms of all the peoples of Earth had come and gone and new ones arose, it was on Gondwane they created their ephemeral glories.
On Gondwane, amid the turmoil of the last wars and the last quests and the last efforts of scientists and alchemists, there arose one final hero, the mighty Ganelon Silvermane.
The saga of Ganelon is the telling of master fantasist Lin Carter. And it is in the story of the Scarlet Enchantress that Ganelon first found the meaning of manhood.
Grrff was completely practical and methodical, and took things as they came.
Suddenly, the whistling silence was broken by the shrill and clamor of alarms. Grrff started, jumped four inches into the air and cursed himself for his jumpi-ness. Had he accidentally tripped some warning device, unwittingly announcing his presence? Hefting the ygdraxel he had retrieved from the municipal stores, he peered about for some type of robotic guards, monitors or police. He found none.
Then a deep, calm voice spoke out of thin air, echoing through the length of the City.
“Attention all Citizens! This is your City speaking. I am about to suffer attack by unknown enemies who will strike simultaneously from the Earth’s surface and the upper atmosphere! All attempts to enter into electronic communication with this unknown foe have proved futile. But fear not, people of Kan Zar Kan! Your City will defend its inhabitants against exterior molestation with the utmost vigor and ingenuity its mentation tanks are capable of! Remain in your homes and be of good cheer: The City has never yet been conquered or even invaded. If all Citizens do their part in our Civil Defense program, we shall elude or destroy our enemies without serious harm. Evasive maneuvers will begin in approximately nine seconds. Secure a comfortable position in a prone posture, if you please, to avoid being flung about and thereby bruising yourselves against my edges. Evasive action begins—now!”
And the City took an abrupt curve at right angles to its former course. Grrff was flung off-balance and he cracked his head against the curbing. His skull rang and he saw stars. Shaking his head furiously, he got to his feet and peered around intently to discern the nature of the attack.
From the upper works of the forward traveling edge of the City, lamps cast a piercing actinic glare on the prairie directly ahead. Peering down the length of the street whereon he stood, Grrff saw nothing but an endless plain of waving grasses, formerly cloaked in darkness but not brilliantly illuminated by the stabbing rays.
The night was young and the Falling Moon had not yet entered the sky. By the searchlights, Grrff now saw a turmoil of sudden activity far out on the grassy plains. Thousands of small, scuttling bowlegged figures, vaguely humanoid in appearance, came into view. They seemed to have diverted their course to intercept the Mobile City. They were too small or too distant, or perhaps both, for him to mark them clearly. The City was now moving at such velocity that their small, waddled figures were mere blurs against the brightly-lit field.
Then something fairly large swooped down low over the City and burst like deadly fireworks, becoming a drifting cloud of small red lights. Grrff looked up, shading his eyes against the ruddy glare. The slowly falling red balls of flame exploded with deafening concussions when they came into contact with the upper tiers, tower-tops or aerial walkways. One red fireball struck an empty bubble car and the resultant explosion tore the plastic vehicle asunder. Shards of red hot plastic showered the street and rooftops directly beneath.
The City was indeed under attack. But—by whom?
Staring up into the black sky, Grrff strove to discern the nature of the air assault. Then more searchlights snapped on, spearing the sky, snaring a flying vehicle in their shafts of brilliance.
Now Grrff could see the air enemy clearly—and he roared with astonishment at what he saw.
26. IN THE RED ZIGGURAT
Ganelon stared, grunted with surprise, then relaxed grinning happily. For the person who had addressed him from the darkness of the room proved to be a remarkably handsome young woman in a state of nudity, brandishing a longsword in one small, capable fist. A young woman with tousled red hair, sharp green eyes and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her small snub hose.
It was Xarda, the girl knight of Jemmerdy!
She was almost as surprised to see him as he was to see her. Her green eyes widened and she started to ask him some mane question like “What are you doing here?”, when she was suddenly reminded of her state of undress. Dropping her sword (which thumped to the carpet), she snatched a sheet from the bed in which she had been sleeping and hastily held it before her.
“It’s not that I am sorry to see you,” she grexed, “but, gadzooks, must you come popping through the window of a lady’s bedchamber?”
Ganelon solemnly apologized, explaining the situation. Then he released a torrent of questions which the Sirix of Jemmerdy stilled with a lifted palm.
“Save all that for later, can’t you? The magister will want to be apprised of your arrival. I’ll get dressed now—if you don’t mind!”
Ganelon loitered in the hallway until she rejoined a few moments later, now bedecked with odds and ends of steel armor which she thought were decent and proper garb for a young woman. She led him through a maze of rooms into a huge chamber mostly filled with towering banks of machinery where the Illusionist toiled, his silken robes besmirched with daubs of graphite lubricant. He was delighted to see Ganelon, but it was obvious his attentions were elsewhere.
“Thought you’d be turning up before long,” he murmured abstractedly. “Wherever have you been all this while? Getting into trouble as usual, I’ll hazard! Never mind: tell me later. Must get these switches connected to the power source …”
Above them, a huge lens swung about to observe the grouping amiably. A toneless mechanical voice spoke from a grill situated beneath the lens.
“I perceive you have been joined by one of my more recent Citizens,” the voice stated calmly.
“Yes,” grunted the old magician briefly. “Ganelon, meet the City. City, this is my associate Ganelon, called Silvermane.”
Never having been formally introduced to a city before, Ganelon groped for something to say. The City, on the other hand, felt no such restraints.
“How do you do, Ganelon-Called-Silvermane? Welcome to myself. Enjoy your stay here. Should you desire to reside within me permanently, the Immigration Bureau opens tomorrow morning at nine. All applications considered promptly. While you are within me, do not neglect to see the several major tourist attractions. The Red Ziggurat, which is the largest metal building presently extant in Greater Zuavia. The Fire Fountain, newly restored and renovated. An aerial tour via bubble car can be arranged.”
“Oh, do be quiet, City!” the magician said, testily. “These connections are tricky.” The voice lapsed into silence on the half-syllable.
“How did you get here, anyway?” asked Ganelon of Xarda in low tones. She told him briefly of their escape from Chx and how they had discovered the Bazonga rendered temporarily inoperable, having run into the Vanishing Mountains headfirst; how they had searched Chx and Dwarfland for him and would have extended the quest to include the Land of Red Magic, had not the witless Bird flown them into the northern plains country.
“Well, that’s where I was, all right,” said Silvermane. While the Illusionist listened with half an ear, swearing under his breath at the wiring problems, the young giant explained how the Death Dwarves had captured him and turned him over to Red Magic legionnaires. He told of his captivity by the Enchantress, his escape with Grrff and Phadia, their weird interdimensional trip through the hyperspatial tube, their stay with the Old Dragon, and so on.
By the time Ganelon had concluded an account of his most recent adventures, the magician had finished rewiring the City’s bypass unit, as he explained it to be.
“The City desires nothing more than to become a real city, which implies a stationary locale; but the prime directives implanted in its mentation tanks force it to continually wander about hunting for ore deposits which it no longer has any reason to mine,” he explained, wiping his hands on a bit of waste.* “These emergency bypass circuits, which I have just installed, should enable the poor thing to get around those of the directives which it no longer wishes to obey. So you fell into the toils of Zelmarine, heh? Remember how I spirited you out of Zermish to keep you from her clutches? Well, you seem to, ah, have escaped her dominions unscathed: tell me, dear boy, did you find out what it was she wanted you for?”