Keith Laumer

“ There my own lived memories took up the tale: the awakening of Foster, unsuspecting, and his recording of the mind of the dying Ammaerln; the flight from the Hunters; the memory-trace of the king, that lay for three millennia among neolithic bones until I, a primitive, plucked it from its place; and the pocket of a coarse fibre garment where the cylinder lay now, on a hip of the body I inhabited and as inaccessible to me as if it had been a million miles away. ”

“ Foster threw up an arm and ducked. The ball of light veered, struck him a glancing blow and darted off a few yards, hovered. In an instant, the air was alive with the spheres, boiling up from the ground, and hurtling toward us, buzzing like a hive of yellow-jackets. Foster's flashlight lanced out toward the swarm.
"Use your light, Legion!" he shouted hoarsely. I was still standing, frozen. The globes rushed straight at Foster, ignoring me. Behind me, I heard the publican turn and run. I fumbled with the flashlight switch, snapped it on, swung the beam of white light on Foster. ”

“ I got out of the car in the drive at Foster's house, and looked around at the wide clipped lawn, the flower beds that were vivid even by moonlight, the line of tall poplars, and the big white house.
"I wish I hadn't come," I said. "This kind of place reminds me of all the things I haven't gotten out of life."
"Your life's still ahead of you," Foster said. He opened the slab of mahogany that was the front door, and I followed him inside. At the end of a short hall he flipped a switch that flooded the room before us with soft light. ”

“ Dressed in the latest in Vallonian cape and ruffles, I was sitting with my drinking buddy Cagu, Chief Bodyguard to Owner Gope, at a small table on the first terrace at the Palace of Merrymaking, Bar-Ponderone's biggest community feasting hall. It looked like a Hollywood producer's idea of a twenty-first century night club, complete with nine dance floors on five levels, indoor pools, fountains, two thousand tables, musicians, girls, noise, colored lights, plenty of booze, and food fit for an Owner. It was open to all fifty-lash-and-over goodmen of the estate and to guests of equivalent rank. ”

“ I had spent three hours every day in the armory at Rath-Gallion, trading buffets with Gope and a couple of the bodyguards. The thirty-pound slab of edged steel had felt right at home in my hand that first day—for about a minute. I had the borrowed knowledge to give me all the technique I needed, but the muscle power for putting the knowledge into practice was another matter. After five minutes I was slumped against the wall, gulping air, while Gope whistled his sticker around my head and talked.
"You laid on like no piper, good Drgon. Yet have you much to learn in the matter of endurance." ”

“ I saw again by Cintelight the office where Ommodurad had received me and near it an ostentatious hall with black onyx floor and ceiling, gold hangings, and ceremonial ringboard. But the center of attraction was the familiar motif of the concentric circles of the Two Worlds, sketched in beaten gold across the broad wall of black marble behind the throne. Here the idea had been elaborated on. Outward from both the inner and outer circles flamed waving lines of sunburst, and at dead center a boss, like a sword hilt in form, chased in black and gold, erupted a foot from the wall. ”

“ Suppose I could take a heavy named Torbu; would that set me in better with a new Owner?"
"Such is no place for a man of your abilities, good Drgon," Gope exclaimed. "True, 'tis a place most close to an Owner, but there is much danger in it. The challenge involves the most bloody hand-to-hand combat, second only to the rigors of a challenge to an Owner himself."
"What's that?" I snapped. "Challenge an Owner?"
"Be calm, good Drgon," said Gope, staring at me incredulously. "No common man with his wits about him will challenge an Owner. He is a warrior trained in the skills of battle. ”

“ If a man with his health and plenty of money can't enjoy life, what the hell is there for anybody?"
Foster looked at me thoughtfully. "Legion, if you could have anything in life you wanted, what would you ask for?"
I swirled the beer in the mug. "Anything? I've wanted a lot of different things. Once I wanted to be a hero. Later, I wanted to be smart, know all the answers. Then I had the idea that a chance to do an honest job, one that needed doing, was the big thing. I never found that job. I never got smart either, or figured out how to tell a hero from a coward, without a program." ”

“ There was a pedestal in the center of the floor, from which a polished bar projected. The bones of a man lay beside it. While I stared, Foster sprang forward, seized the bar, and pulled. It slid back easily. The lights flickered, and I had a moment of vertigo. Nothing else happened.
"Try it the other way," I yelled. "The bombs will fall any second—" I went for it, hand outstretched. Foster thrust in front of me. "Look!"
I stared at the glowing panel he was pointing to—a duplicate of the one in the underground chamber. ”

“ The other, higher up, was that of a man I had known as Ommodurad. But this was a clear-eyed Ommodurad, just under twenty-one.
"Onto the blank slate we traced your mind," said Gope.
"He owed you a life, Legion," Foster said. "His own was forfeit."
"I guess I ought to kick and scream and demand my original ugly puss back," I said slowly, studying my reflection, "but the fact is, I like looking like Mr. Universe."
"Your earthly body was infected with the germs of old age," said Foster. "Now you can look forward to a great span of life."
"But come," said Gope. "All Vallon waits to honor you." ”

“ Then did I draw the long blade and hold it at the throat of Qulqlan. "Press me not, or your king will surely die," I said. And they feared me and shrank back.
"Do you dream that I, Ammaerln, wisest of the wise, have come for the love of far-voyaging?" I raged. "Long have I plotted against this hour; to lure the king a-voyaging in this his princely yacht, his faithful vizier at his side, that the Change might come on him far from his court. Then would the ancient wrong be redressed.
"There are those men born to rule as inevitably as the dream-tree seeks the sun—and such a one am I! ”

“ He led the way to the tall window.
"Your place is by my side at the great ringboard," said Foster. "And afterwards: all of the Two Worlds lie before you."
I looked past the open window and saw a carpet of velvet green that curved over foothills to the rim of a forest. Down the long sward I saw a procession of bright knights and ladies come riding on animals, some black, some golden palomino, that looked for all the world like unicorns. ”

“ Foster had his hand on the door of a deceptively modest-looking cabriolet. I could smell the solid leather upholstery from where I stood.
"Why not come along to my place, Legion," he said. "We might at least discuss my proposition."
I shook my head. "I'm not the man for the job, Mr. Foster," I said. "If you'd like to advance me a couple of bucks, I'll get myself a bite to eat and fade right out of your life."
"What makes you so sure you're not interested?"
"Your ad said something about adventure. I've had my adventures. Now I'm just looking for a hole to crawl into." ”

“ He lowered his immense sword, turned, pushed aside a flunky who had bustled up with a wad of bandages. As he strode from the room a swarm of bodyguards fanned out between the crowd and Foster. I could see him clumsily struggling to rise, then I was shoved back, still craning for a glimpse. There was something wrong here; Foster had acted like a man suddenly half-paralyzed. Had Qohey doped him in some way?
The cordon stopped pushing. I tugged at the arm of the bodyguard beside me. "What's to be the fate of the man?" ”

“ The piercing stare of Ommodurad's eyes was on me again. "There was a friend of mine—swell guy, but impulsive. It seems he challenged the former Owner of Bar-Ponderone...."
Ommodurad did no more than twitch an eyebrow but suddenly the air was electric. His stare didn't waver by a millimeter but the lazy slouch of the six guards had altered to sprung steel. They hadn't moved but I felt them now all around me and not a foot away. I had a sinking feeling that I'd gone too far. ”

“ The journal bristles with tantalizing references to matters that are never explained."
"And you think the man that wrote it had amnesia?"
"Not actually amnesia, perhaps," Foster said. "But there were things he was unable to remember."
"If that's amnesia, we've all got it," I said. "Nobody's got a perfect memory."
"But these were matters of importance; not the kind of thing that simply slip one's mind."
"I can see how you'd want to believe the book had something to do with your past, Mr. Foster," I said. "It must be a hard thing, not knowing your own life story. But you're on the wrong track. ”

“ Foster said. "I watched my savage people put aside their animal hides and learn the ways of civilization. I built a great city, and I tried—foolishly—to teach their noble caste the code of chivalry of the two Worlds. But although they sat at a round table like the great Ringboard at Okk-Hamiloth, they never really understood. And then they grew too wise, and wondered at their king who never aged. I left them, and tried again to build a long-signaller. The Hunters sensed it, and swarmed to me. ”

“ We can handle 'em."
We lifted, swung to the east, barrelled along at low altitude.
"What do we do when we get there, boss?" said Torbu.
"We play it by ear. Let's see how far we can get on pure gall before Ommodurad drops the hanky."
The palace lay below us, rearing blue towers to the twilit sky like a royal residence in the Munchkin country. Beyond it, sunset colors reflected from the silky surface of the Shallow Sea. The timeless stones and still waters looked much as they had when Foster set out to lose his identity on Earth, three thousand years before. ”

“ Sime stood watching me scrape at it.
"Why don't you claim the Chief Piper's place, Drgon?" he said. "You pipe rings around the lout. Then you'd have freeman status, and could sit among us in the kitchen almost as an equal."
"I'd gladly be the equal of such a pastry cook as yourself," I said. "But what can a slave-piper do?"
Sime blinked at me. "You can challenge the Chief Piper," he said. "There's none can deny you're his master in all but name. Don't fear the outcome of the Trial; you'll triumph sure." ”

“ I shook the sleeping man, him who had once been the Rthr—king no more, by the law of the Change. He wakened slowly, looked about him, with the clear eyes of the newborn.
"Rise," I commanded. And the king obeyed.
"Follow me," I said. He made to question me, after the manner of those newly wakened from their Change. I bade him be silent. Like a lamb he came and I led him through shadowed ways to the cage of the Hunters. They rose, keen in their hunger, to my coming, as I had trained them.
I took the arm of Qulqlan and thrust it into the cage. The Hunters clustered, taking the mark of their prey. ”

“ Sime made a motion in the air. "I have heard of these wands: a forbidden relic of the Black Arts—"
"Nuts," I said. "You don't believe in magic, do you, Sime? The rods are nothing but a scientific development by your own people. How you've managed to lose all knowledge of your own past—"
Sime raised his hands in distress. "Good Drgon, press us not in these matters. Such things are forbidden."
I went on out to the car and climbed in to wait for Owner Gope. It was impossible to learn anything about Vallon's history from these goodmen. They knew nothing. ”

“ And once more: as I hung by numbed fingers under the cornice of the Yordano Tower, the cold voice had spoken.
And I had forgotten. The miracle had been pushed back, rejected by the conscious mind. But now I knew: this was the knowledge that I had received from the background briefing device that I had used in my island strong-room before I fled. This was the survival data known to all Old Vallonians of the days of the Two Worlds. It had lain here, unused; the secrets of superhuman strength and endurance ... buried by the imbecile censor-self's aversion to the alien. ”

“ I reached for the cleaver the kitchen-slave had left on the table, backed against a tall wall cupboard. The bodyguard unlimbered his club.
"Hold it, Blon," said Torbu. "Drgon's okay." He looked at me. "I kind of figured you for done-for, Drgon. The boys worked you over pretty good."
"Yeah," I returned, "and thanks for your help in stopping it. You claim to believe in the system around here. You think it's a great life, all fair play and no holds barred and plenty of goodies for the winner. I know, it was tough about Cagu, but that's life, isn't it? ”

“ Foster looked at me, half-smiling. It had only been a few weeks since he woke up from a nap looking like a senior class president who hadn't made up his mind whether to be a preacher or a movie star but he had already lost that mild, innocent air. He learned fast, and day by day I had seen his old personality re-emerge and—in spite of my attempts to hold onto the ascendency—dominate our partnership.
"It's a failing of your culture," Foster said, "that hypothesis becomes dogma almost overnight. You're too close to your neolithic, when the blind acceptance of tribal lore had survival value. ”

“ I had been about to try the briefing gimmick, and had wondered if it would work. It had—with a vengeance. For a minute there I had stumbled around the room like a stranger, yearning for dear old Vallon. I could remember the feeling—but it was gone now. I was just me, in trouble as usual.
A rattle of gunfire outside brought me to the window in a jump. It was the same view as a few moments before, but it made more sense now. There was the still-smoking wreckage of the PT boat, sunk in ten feet of water a few yards from the end of the jetty. Somebody must have tried to make a run for it. ”

“ My voice slashed at the men. "Stand aside, as you value your lives."
And the body pushed past them, strode off along the corridor. It passed through a great archway, descended a flight of marble stairs, came along a hall I had seen on my tour of the Palace of Sapphires and into the Onyx Chamber with the great golden sunburst that covered the high black wall.
In the Great Owner's chair at the ringboard Ommodurad sat scowling at the lame courtier whose red hair was hidden now under a black cowl. Between them Foster stood, the heavy manacles dragging at his wrists. ”

“ How could it happen?"
"When the mind renews itself, erasing the scars of the years, the body, too, regenerates."
"When I first met you," I said, "you told me about waking up back in 1918, with no memory."
"Yours is a harsh world, Legion. I must have forgotten, many times. Somewhere, sometime, I lost the vital link, forgot my quest; when the Hunters came again, I fled, not understanding."
There was a silence, then Foster spoke in a faraway voice.
"What came to pass aboard this ship all those centuries ago?" he said. "Why was I here? And what killed the others? ”