Lankar of Callisto
- Автор: Картер Лин Спрэг
- Серия: Callisto #6
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Lankar of Callisto». Краткое содержание книги:
...in the mysterious and treacherous domain of the insidious Mind Wizards. Searching for him is a fearless armada of his loyal friends, and a stranger who knows him better than anyone on Callisto. The stranger, Lankar, is none other than Lin Carter, accidentally transported through the Gate Between the Worlds to the land of the Thanatorians. Aware of Jandar's plight, Lankar joins the search beyond the world's edge and suddenly finds himself battling for his own existence against the most nightmarish creatures on the planet - the gruesome flesh robots of Kuur and the fiendish Mind Wizards of Callisto themselves...
I would be missing these new friends and the marvels of their strange and exciting world. But everything ends, including my adventure on Callisto, and I made the best of it. My chief regret was that Tomar and the jungle maid had not yet been found, for I would like to have made my last goodbyes to them as well. At least their bodies were not among the slain, thank heaven, so the worst that could have happened to them .was that they had become lost in this interminable warren of subterranean tunnels and chambers, and it was expected that Lukor’s search parties would soon find them and bring them in.
The Jalathadar, under Captain Haakon, would remain here at Kuur until the occupation force was ready to depart for holne. The other two surviving. ships of the First Armada, the Tharkolian ornithopters Conqueress and Arkonna, somewhat battered during their capture by the Mind Wizards, but still skyworthy, were reprovisioned from the stores found in Kuur, and loaded with fighting men.
And so, the following dawn, we prepared to depart on the long voyage back to the known hemisphere of
Callisto. Led by the Xaxar, the Avenger, the Zarkoon, the Arkonna and the Conqueress made what must have been the mightiest aerial fleet ever to sail the golden skies of the Jungle Moon. What a grand and impressive sight the five stately galleons of the clouds must have made to the eyes of those who had gathered below to bid us farewell and safe voyage home! The skies of my native world have witnessed many a tremendous gathering of aircraft, but never, I feel certain, a spectacle more wondrous and superb than that we made as we spread our gigantic wings and soared over the valley and beyond the Peaks of Harangzar, dwindling to motes in the western skies.
Living conditions aboard the Xaxar were considerably more crowded on the voyage home than they had been on the expedition to Kuur. This, of course, was due to our having taken aboard a portion of the former prisoners whose release we had effected. Supplies of food and water would have been severely rationed, too, had it not been for the storerooms of Kuur from which we had appropriated according to our needs.
As before, I shared my small, crowded cabin with Dr. Abziz, young Taran, Glypto of Tharkol, and the faithful othode who would not leave my side. Our mood was greatly changed on this second voyage. During the flight into the unknown east an atmosphere of tension had existed: worries as to the nameless fate of our lost friends had exacerbated this suspenseful mood, and tempers had been short and easily frayed. The voyage home, however, was endured in a relaxed and jubilant mood, for we were victorious and all hazards and perils lay behind us now.
Even the vile-tempered little Soraban geographer and the rascally Tharkolian thief hit it off more comfortably. They had been more or less continually at each other’s throats during the first voyage, but now that they had shared a bold adventure and an heroic battle together, something in the nature of a bond of comradeship could be discerned between them. Or perhaps I exaggerate; but anyhow, there was less sniping and arguing, and a feeling of mutual tolerance of the other’s ways, however tenuous and temporary it might prove to be, could be observed.
With so many more hands aboard to share the various tasks and turn the great wheels that lent our vessel its motive power, there was less for all of us to do, and we had considerable leisure in which to become firmer friends. I spent many interesting and pleasurable hours getting to know Jandar and the other warriors who had been only names in a book to me. My fellow Earthling and I talked often together while the great wings of the Xaxar bore us effortlessly through the midnight skies of Thanator. We talked of our native world and of all the many exciting events which had occurred on Earth since Jandar had left it behind him forever to assume his adventurous career upon Callisto. And we discussed for hours the marvels and mysteries of this weird and strange and beautiful jungle world.
There were many things I did not know about Thanator, and I had many questions to ask. For while his narratives had revealed much about life on this planet in the recounting of his exploits and explorations and adventures, there still remained events he had not fully detailed and questions raised in the manuscripts which he had neglected to answer.*
Our homeward flight across the desolate wasteland was almost completely uneventful. We crossed the deserts and the mountains and soared above the great, jungle-girt plateau that was the homeland of Ylana’s primitive tribe without so much as a single adventure to mar the peaceful serenity of the voyage, which, in fact, had begun to verge on boredom.
We flew past .the Mountains of the Zarkoon for the second time, and again without so much as a single glimpse of the savage and monstrous winged cannibals which infested these peaks in such multitudes. As we approached the borders which separated the, two hemispheres without incident, the bleak and barren landscape became gradually forested with weird black and scarlet trees, the hills and plains became carpeted with crimson sward again. It was almost with a feeling of anticlimax that we sighted the red stone walls of Tharkol on the misty horizon, and spied from afar the distant shores of the Corund Laj, the greater of the two land-locked seas of Callisto.
We moored above the swelling domes and soaring spires of the Scarlet City, remaining in Tharkol for the better portion of one entire day while the Tharkolian warriors and nobles gathered up their gear, made their farewells to their Shondakorian comrades, and descended in gigs to their homeland.
Dr. Abziz, clutching his precious instruments and charts and notes to his bosom, made his goodbyes. He retained a stiff and formal dignity in bidding me farewell, but he unbent just a trifle in saying goodbye to Taran and even tousled the grinning boy’s hair with something approaching an avuncular affection. And I noticed with an inward smile that he ventured a tentative and gingerly pat on the head as he passed Bozo on his way out of the cabin. The great othode, who had long since become accustomed to the presence of the little man, seemed puzzled by his departure and whined a little, deep in his throat, as the Soraban left. I was thinking how unbearable would be the wrench of taking my own farewell of the faithful big fellow, and wondering if I could do it. I am unable to report what passed between Glypto and Abziz when they parted, for this scene took place on deck when I was not present. I’d like to think they parted as friends, but somehow I feel certain there was a final exchange of insults between them, if only just for old time’s sake.
That evening we were guests of Queen Zamara at a feast given in our honor in her palace. I could fill this chapter with a description of the sumptuous and splendid hall in which we feasted among furnishings and hangings and appointments of gorgeous and barbaric magnificence, but I know that my words would fall far short of adequacy. Suffice it to say that I gorged myself on succulently spiced, delicious delicacies to a degree which more than made up for the rather rough and unappetizing cuisine the Xaxar’s galley had been serving us. And I drained so many goblets of rare and exquisite wine in response to a succession of toasts in honor of our triumphs and victories that my memories of the last phases of this spectacular evening are, to say the very least, somewhat hazy.
We flew on later that evening, leaving two ships behind. Leagues of scarlet meadow-sward glided beneath our keels as the Xaxar and the Avenger and the Zarkoon floated through the night skies wondrously lit by the many colored moons.
Of our arrival, just before dawn, at Shondakor I shall say little here. The entire populace of the stone metropolis awoke to the exultant cry of golden trumpets as palace watchmen saw us winging through the night under the glorious moons. The streets became thronged with magical swiftness, and a mood of hilarity and joy filled the ancient city as thousands poured through the broad, tree-lined boulevard as if for some triumphant and long-awaited festival.