The Sinners of Erspia

So, at the last minute, when he sat before the station's control board ready to energise the engine, the projector was still emitting. But already he had taken a key which he had found hanging from the neck of the dead Kwenis, and had opened the lid of a sturdy box bolted to the board. Inside the box was a massive switch of the old-fashioned lever type.

Laedo's arm seemed extraordinarily heavy as he moved his hand to the switch. The lever seemed to resist him, and he thought for a moment that it might be corroded in place. Then, with a clunk, it shifted.

The invisible mental searchlight went out. Without pause he energised. The globe of Ormazd shot away from Erspia, into the interstellar realm and towards Harkio.

The sun had set and Hoggora, High Priest of the Forces of Darkness, felt vigorous and confident. True, the villagers, contrary to Drosh's report, had assembled a force to match his own. He was faced, in fact, by an alliance of villages, and this would be a battle to go down in legend. But darkness had come, and the darkness always made him feel strong. He looked forward with joy to the carnage that was about to commence.

His cavalry was lined up on one side of a shallow river, the infantry jostling behind. On the other side of the water was a less colourful, but more rigidly disciplined parade. It was a case of ferocity versus fortitude, as it had always been. But this time the outcome would give one side or the other a decided advantage for years to come.

Beyond the silent ranks, the priests of Ormazd, in their tall, coiffed headdresses, raised their faces to heaven in rapt prayer. Hoggora prayed, too, hurling his voice hoarsely to that point in space where he knew the Mouth of Ahriman hovered.

"Ahriman! Aid us!"

And then, as if in answer to his supplication, an event took place that caused the entire assembly, on both sides, to pause and become stock-still. It was an invisible event, but one that was yet felt by everyone present. In the perpetual tussle that took place in each man's mind, one of the contending factors abruptly went missing. Ahriman alone remained, to exult in his victory.

It was as if a shadow of evil swept over the world, a shadow that could never be lifted. The priests, sensing the death of the Good God, wailed in disbelieving horror. The ranks arrayed before them shivered and moaned as they, too, felt the strength of their lord leave them.

But among Hoggora's army an incredible chafing joy took hold. Hoggora screamed a command, howling in triumph. A volley of arrows whistled across the river. Lances were levelled, pennants flew. With a great shout, the Horde of the Evil One surged across the shallow water to claim its own.

TWO

Orchid Paradise

The drive had been in operation for only minutes when a mechanism behind the panel of the control board chattered and a sheet of parchment-like material came stuttering out of a slot.

Laedo snatched it up as it floated floorwards. Words, still smoking, had been etched or burned into the sheet in argot galactica.

Experiment incomplete, they read. Return station to duty.

Laedo stared. It had not occurred to him that the projector station might be able to monitor the performance of its staff.

How to reply? Laedo searched the panel. The mechanism had not spoken out loud, so he presumed there would be a writing plate or something even more primitive, such as a keyboard. But he found nothing. Finally, in exasperation, he responded as if to a normal control device.

“The experiment has been abandoned. The staff are all dead,” he said, raising his voice.

After a pause there came more chattering and another sheet of parchment was extruded.

Must report to Klystar, he read. Then he felt movement under his feet.

The dials on the board were shifting their settings. With a yell he seized control levers and tried to correct the course, but it was no good. The station was changing direction and all the flight parameters—velocity flow, fuel rate, flight tensor—were being adjusted by an unseen, expert power.

Not back to Erspia. Not towards Harkio. To where?

He groaned and sank back in the pilot's seat.

The door slid open. Histrina stepped into the room, her gun thrust into the belt of her gauzy shift-like gown, dimpling her soft belly.

“What's wrong?” she asked, in the cool and self-possessed voice she had acquired since the killings.

“I don't know where the hell we're going—if anywhere."

“I thought we were going to your home world. To Harkio."

“So did I. But this thing has a mind of its own. I think it's trying to take us to Klystar, the being who made Erspia. Only I don't suppose it even knows where Klystar is."

“Well, do something,” Histrina said, in a tone whose sharpness surprised and even frightened him a little.

Raising his face, and ignoring Histrina's puzzlement at seeing him address thin air, he spoke again.