Renegade of Callisto

As the Yathoon insectoids were the undisputed masters of the southern hemisphere, it did not take us long to guess the culprit. Thenceforward we directed our vigilance to the regions dominated by the Yathoon, known to infest the Black Mountains.

Towing the abandoned scoutcraft behind us, we directed the Shondakor above what turned out to be the Hidden Valley of Sargol―and just in time, it seems, for our appearance in the skies to distract the murderous attention of the victorious Kamchan for one precious instant.

It was with vast relief and satisfaction that we discovered our lost friends alive and relatively unharmed. Koja’s injuries proved superficial, while Valkar’s were more serious. But none of the others had suffered very much from their adventure, and even the two othodes were unscathed.

During our conversation, each of my friends related the story of his adventures to me―the which I have written down in this volume, more or less as they were narrated to me. I was saddened to learn that Prince Valkar, my wife’s cousin, was seriously injured, and I was also alarmed and distressed to learn that the Bright Empire was threatening the peace and security of Ganatol, one of our neighbors to the north.

There had never been aught but peaceful conditions between Shondakor and Ganatol, for we were too distant from one another for war to ever have been particularly desirable or even practical, had it ever been desired. An occasional merchant caravan, a bit of seasonal trade, sometimes a friendly exchange of greetings or embassies―little more.

But the opportunity to form a firm alliance with our neighbor to the north was exceptionally attractive, and I determined to pursue it upon my return.

Various difficulties presented themselves as obstacles to the freedom of my friends and of the new acquaintances they had made while in Yathoon captivity. For one thing, all except Koja and Borak were captives of the Zajjadar Clan, and were Koja to free them by mere command would be for him to insult and anger the powerful Clan, endangering his own position in the Horde. I suggested that Shondakor ransom them; since actual wealth is of no particular use or value to the Yathoon barbarians, an exchange of trinkets was arranged. The Yathoon hoard in their troves much the same sort of bright, glittery trash that may be found in a jackdaw’s nest. Beads and mirrors and glass jewelry and trinkets are to them as desirable as treasure. Koja promised to arrange the exchange as surreptitiously as he could, for to be seen actively participating in the freeing of human captives might be extremely detrimental to him in his new capacity as Arkon.

After the departure of my friends―the two othodes we of course kept with us, as they were of no value or interest, even to the Zajjadars―I flew the Shondakor back north into the grasslands to the place where Koja and Taran and Fido had left the Lankar-jan tethered to the upper branches of a tall stand of borath trees.

We found the little scoutcraft intact and still se. curely anchored to the treetops, apparently none the worse for wear. Towing it behind us, we returned to the Black Mountains to await Koja’s signal.

Later that day, Borak emerged from the pass through the mountains, with two trusted Yathoon warriors, to receive our store of gewgaws. My officers and I had stripped ourselves of every ornament and bright scrap of decoration we could find on our persons or among the fittings of the two ornithopters, including some valuable optical instruments and navigational devices which we presumed might be rare and curious oddities to the simple arthropods.

That evening Koja himself came down into the hills, escorting Taran and Kadar and others. Prince Valkar, sleeping easily under the influence of drugs administered by the fussy little Soraban physician, was borne on a litter. With him were Xara of Ganatol, whom I was pleased to meet, and that curious personage introduced to me as Zothon of Arzoma, the representative of a race I had never previously encountered during all my wanderings across the broad face of Thanator the Jungle Moon. These five former captives were now free, ransomed by the glittering trash we had scavenged; free, too, was Doctor Yetzl, who was still attending to Valkar.

Koja solemnly informed me that he would not be returning to Shondakor, at least not at once. First he must consolidate his position as Emperor of the Yathoon Horde. And it was also his avowed intention to introduce certain novel concepts into the ancient and immemorial traditions of the Yathoon race.

During his years with us in Shondakor, my friend Koja had learned the value of some of the softer sentiments normally unknown to his emotionless kind, and, even when known, regarded with revulsion and distrust as ennervating and effete.

The first thing he intended was an innovation in the nature of the Great Games themselves. Since the Yathoon race was gradually dying out―a secret which he confided to me in solemn confidence―it should not be difficult to persuade his princelings and chieftains to abandon the bloody games, hitherto fought to the death, in favor of contests of athletic excellence and martial skill. This innovation was rather like banning warfare in favor of something like the Olympic Games, but Koja felt confident that he could do it.

The Yathoon are coldly emotionless; reason and logic appeal to them where vehement passions cannot sway them. Simply to point out that irreplaceable lives are lost from a dwindling race when the Games are fought to the death should, he thought, suffice to convince his lords of the folly of the ancient practice. It’s only real purpose, after all, was to make certain that the healthiest and most superior specimens of male Yathoon adulthood were permitted to lie with the females and breed the next generation. Athletic contests should weed out the sickly or unfit as certainly as pitched battles, and without further decimating the strength of the Horde.