Renegade of Callisto
- Автор: Картер Лин Спрэг
- Серия: Callisto #8
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Renegade of Callisto». Краткое содержание книги:
Far from his adopted home, the Golden City of Shondakor, Koja, self-exiled insectoid of the Yathoon Horde, has blundered into the savage land he had renounced, accompanied only by little Taran, ward of Prince Jandar. Lost in the treacherous scarlet plains, the two are hurled to separate, unnamable fates —Taran forsaken in shackles, along with the lovely Princess Xara, while the renegade Koja is locked on a perilous course of vengeance for the evils done to his clan. All destinies collide at the Great Yathoon Games in the hidden valley of Sargol — the impenetrable citadel girdled by a seething mote of flames.
In the spine-tingling tradition of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Lin Carter again transports us to a strange and sublime landscape pulsating with the flash of swords, secret splendors, and ever-lurking danger.
Then he turned, left the tier, and went waddling down the inner stairs of the palace as fast as his six bowlegs could move―which was quite fast.
The courtiers and guards were accustomed to seeing the burly othode trotting here and there by now and paid him no particular attention. Nor did Bozo chance to encounter one of his particular human friends, such as Lukor or myself. Hence he did not attempt to convey what had chanced to occur, but, ignoring the humans he encountered on his way through the palace, Bozo left the immense edifice by the nearest exit and galloped through the parks and gardens, soon gaining the streets of the city beyond.
The worried beast had noted the direction in which the ornithopter had been flying when it had receded into the distant sky, dwindling from his view. Now every instinct of his brave and loyal heart urged him to follow the craft in which his friends arid his son were being carried off.
Within a few minutes Bozo was out of the city entirely.
He paused on the outskirts, then waddled through the nearest gate, peered long and earnestly into the darkness that by now had mantled the broad and level Plains of Haratha, and then, stretching his six powerful legs into an easy and tireless lope, the othode began to chase the flying craft on foot.
There was nothing else for Bozo to do. And he knew with his every instinct that he must do something.
The sentinels at that gate saw and recognized Bozo as a palace pet; they saw him go loping off into the night but thought nothing of it.
Later―much later―they had reason to regret their inattention.
3 Lost in the Sky
Taran was frightened. The boy had not been this frightened in a long time, not since he and Bozo had taken part in the attack on Kuur, the underground citadel of the Mind Wizards on the Far Side of Callisto. But he tried not to show it.
Fate, it seemed, had played one last trick upon them. It was bad enough to be lost in the skies, without knowing which way to go. What made it so much worse was the fact that they could not control the direction of their flight, even if they had known!
For as soon as the sky cadet attempted to work the controls, he discovered that they no longer worked. The control cables had snapped, which meant that he could no longer exert any influence over the direction or altitude of their flight.
Obviously, in his frantic scrambling about, Fido had broken the cables. Nor could they be repaired while they were still aloft, Taran knew. Like all other Shondakorian sky cadets, he had been taught how to make emergency repairs―but these could only be made when the skycraft was at rest.
The reason why this was obligatory was very simple: you had to climb under the skycraft and rethread or reconnect the cables from beneath.
When he conveyed this dispiriting information to Koja, the solemn Yathoon counseled him not to worry.
“Things are never quite as bad as you at first assume them to be,” the arthropod pointed out in his toneless, metallic voice. “We are at present in two different kinds of danger. The first of these is that we have become lost and do not know which is the direction in which we desire to go. This is, however, only a temporary predicament. With daylight we shall be able to ascertain our approximate position on the surface of Thanator from the surface features visible to us.”
“I don’t see how we can be―”
“I mean that if, by day, we find ourselves flying over jungles, we shall know that we are over the Grand Kumala, and are therefore due west of Shondakor. And, should we find ourselves flying over a vast body of water, we shall thereby know that we have flown due east, and are over the Corund Laj.”
“I see what you mean,” the boy said seriously. “And if we’re over grasslands, it’s the Great Plains of Haratha, right?”
“Correct,” nodded Koja with a stiff little jerk of his horny head. “Similarly, if we find ourselves in the vicinity of a city, the chances are excellent that we shall be able to recognize it, either from the surroundings or from the city’s appearance. And, whether we are over Tharkol or Soraba or Ganatol, or even Narouk or Farz or great Perushtar itself, we shall know exactly where we are in relation to Shondakor the Golden. It is quite impossible for us to become really lost, as long as we keep our wits about us.”
The young cadet nodded thoughtfully and began to relax just a bit as his consternation subsided. Koja stole a furtive glance at the boy sideways, but said nothing. Actually, he was nowhere near as certain that they could not become thoroughly lost as his soothing words seemed to suggest. He had been striving to calm the boy’s fears so as to spare him needless worry. So he had not exactly been candid with Taran in his estimate of their difficulties.
If, with day, they found themselves over water, for example, it could as easily be the Sanmur Laj as the Corund Laj―and these bodies, the two seas of Callisto, lay at opposite ends of the world.
And should they find themselves flying over the level grasslands, these would indeed be the Great Plains of Haratha: but the Great Plains cover many thousands of square miles―and any one of these square miles looks much like another.
They flew on into the darkness, not speaking.
After a time a fleck of golden flame rose above the horizon. This, they knew, was Juruvad―the “Little Moon”―which we know as Amalthea. And before long a jade luminance painted the dim horizon with pallid emerald fire. This was another of the many moons of mighty Jupiter, and much larger: Orovad, the Callistans call it, but to us it is Io, the second moon.
Within half an hour the dark landscape was illuminated by a much larger spheroid, of frosty azure, which we call Europa but the Callistans name Ramavad, the “Silver Moon.” By this new increment of silvery blue moonlight, Taran and Koja searched the gloomy landscape rushing by underneath their keel, but could discern no surface feature of importance. They were flying over level plains of scarlet grass, but this came as no surprise to the two adventurers. Shondakor is surrounded on all sides by the grassy prairies of the Haratha Plains, and it was yet too soon to tell in which direction they were flying.
If the Lankar-jan were heading west, very soon now they would be able to see the vast jungled tract called the Grand Kumala. But if this did not happen, they could as well be flying north or south or east. If they were headed east, they should be passing over the walls and boulevards and spires of Tharkol the Scarlet City, where Zamara was queen. Koja thought this highly unlikely: that is, he did not believe they would actually see Tharkol, even if they were flying in its direction. Privately, he was of the opinion that they would by now already have passed over Tharkol, if they were indeed flying in that direction, but could not have seen it in the darkness.*
Before very long, the firmament flushed with light of a peculiarly beautiful shade of rose-red, which heralded the rising of Ganymede, fourth moon of Jupiter, which the peoples of Callisto call Imavad, the “Red Moon.”
By that time, with the varicolored luminance of several moons lighting the dark, it was possible to see the landscape beneath quite clearly.
Taran uttered a short cry, clutched Koja’s arm, and pointed ahead of them.
“What is it?” inquired the Yathoon.
“I thought I saw a flash of light―a twinkle!” the boy said breathlessly.
The two watched, straining their eyes, but saw no repetition of the flickering gleam of light that Taran had thought he saw.