Pliocene Exile - The Adversary Part 17

"Exactly! So what's wrong? This body I'm wearing doesn't appeal to you? Let me try another! You had a Howler wife, so I thought you'd go for something kinky. But I could be a human wench just as easily. Or ... since you were a silver-torc, how about a domineering blonde with wraparound b.r.e.a.s.t.s-"

"Please!"

Tony edged away.

The houri's expression became calculating. "What did you mean, about not being strong enough since you lost the torc?

You're not burned out, are you?"

"Of course not! It's just-well, you see, when humans experience s.e.x with you exotic women-that is, when we have the torc, most of us are able to carry on-uh-more efficiently.

Whereas without it-and even with it, if one proves incompatible-I mean, there's a danger-a certain inhibiting factor takes over-"

"Ah-Aa!" said Skathe.

There was a meditative silence. Feeling about in the dark, Tony found his pants and s.h.i.+rt. The houri made no move to stop him, and he gratefully slipped into his clothes, simultaneously slithering to the far end of the couch. The monster did not follow, but she never took her eyes off him.

Finally she said, "You have no significant metapsychic powers. Why did the Tanu give you a silver torc, then? For your prowess in the pleasure dome?"

Tony bridled. "Certainly not. I was a very important person in Finiah. As a metallurgical engineer, my professional skills were highly valued. I was in charge of the entire barium extraction operation."

"Interesting. That mine was our princ.i.p.al target, you know.

Madame Guderian pointed out to us that without a barium supply, the Tanu are unable to manufacture new torcs."

Tony had the distinct feeling that he might have said too much. He hastened to add, "The mine's completely buried in lava, you know. Not the remotest chance of its ever being opened again. Not in a million years."

"Or six," said Skathe.

Tony kept very quiet. The houri's body was melting, lengthening. The dreadful Skathe looked down at him and asked quietly, "Why did you come through the time-gate, Tony?"

"Well ... it was very commonplace, really. My lover told me she was leaving me for another chap, my immediate superior.

We three worked together in the same facility, you see, and there was no question of their leaving. The situation became quite unbearable."

"So you ran away."

"Actually, I tipped the pair of them into an eight-hundredmeganewton forging press."

The monster's eyes bugged. "Te's t.i.tties!"

"It pa.s.sed as an accident at the time, but I knew that the Milieu's forensic redactors would catch up with me sooner or later. It seemed the sensible thing to leg it."

Skathe patted Tony on the head. "You know, I like you."

"Then why not turn me loose? I'm never going to be any good for your experiment. Aside from being scared to death of you, I'm so tired that I could sleep for a week, and devilishly hungry besides."

"Are you, by d.a.m.n!" She exploded in great gusts of laughter that brought Karbree to the compartment door. "Sling that hamper of food and drink in here, Worm!" She tipped a wink to Tony. "After you've eaten, get some rest. Strap into one of the soft seats so you won't be bothered by the rapids. I've got business to attend to down in Bardelask, but when that's over-we'll see about letting you go."

Again, Tony dreamed. But this time it was about Finiah, flaming and devastated, with bodies heaped in the streets and Firvulag monstrosities gathering for their final a.s.sault on the palace gate, and Lord Velteyn and his Flying Hunt poised in the smoke, their brave battlecries ringing in his mind while he, Tony, hacked his way through a horde of Lowlife invaders, wielding an aquamarine sword.

But he hadn't.

Even as the dream scenario unfolded, Tony knew it for falsehood. He had never even suspected that Finiah was under attack until the ragtag Hidden Springs troops broke into the pleasure dome, dispatched his Tanu bedmate with an iron-studded mace, and hustled him off to judgment. Dream-Tony, defying this contradiction, fought on until the moment that the sleeper opened his eyes to reality-to lurid smoke clouds rolling above the boat's bubbletop roof, to martial shouts and screams faintly heard, to the unmistakable battle-reek that smote his nostrils and shocked him into alertness.

He was alone in the after cabin of the boat. It was moored in the midst of papyrus plants so tall and densely crowded that he could see no details of the region on either side. The view forward was less restricted and he could see a dock area with devastated buildings ablaze; and when the air cleared momentarily he caught sight of a Tanu citadel with scorched walls and broken towers and a single defiant blue beacon against the lowering sky. Pulses of multicoloured light sparked fitfully behind the fortress windows. There were random small explosions that uncannily resembled heavy calibre rifle fire.

This, beyond a doubt, was Bardelask. And it seemed as though the battle was nearly over.

How long had he been asleep?

Wondering if the monsters had abandoned him, he began to make his way forward. And then he heard indeterminate soft noises and muttered speech coming from up there, and a sudden burst of choked laughter. Tony stood stock-still.

"Marvellous. Terrific!" The voice was that of Karbree the Worm.

"No turn-on like a good bit of warfare," Skathe agreed. "Just enough to whet the old lower appet.i.tes."

Karbree giggled hideously. "Still say you should have taken yours, too.

Any which way."

"My turn's coming, c.o.c.kie. I have my own style."

"You watched me, I get to watch you. Fair's fair."

"Shares on your leftovers, then," Skathe demanded.

The Worm growled, then waxed jovial. "Oh, why the h.e.l.l not? Here-try these toes." There came a distinct crunch.

Tony felt his guts trans.m.u.te into a frigid lump. Fee fie ...

Tanu lies ... fo fum ... propaganda, on my honour as a member of the Gnomish Council ...

Somebody emitted a colossal belch. Somebody else vented a replete sigh. The voices of the Firvulag seemed to recede to a great distance.

"Great little battle, all right," said Karbree. "Discipline in the ranks pretty well fell apart after the brewery was taken, but you can't expect miracles."

Skathe murmured a.s.sent. "I'll give old Mimee the Bird high marks for the main action, though. And I thought his special forces did particularly well, considering the small number of high-technology weapons we were able to send to Famorel."

A guffaw broke from the Worm. "And didn't the Exalted Lady Armida look surprised when Anduvor Doubleta.r.s.e put that steel-jacketed bullet into her gizzard! Pity the body fell into the main fermentation vat. Contaminated the whole batch."

The ogres chortled in reminiscence. There was a loud splash, followed by a number of small ones. Tidying up time, no doubt.

Karbree uttered a huge yawn.

"Why not catch a little zizz?" Skathe said. "I've got a lot of female-type preliminaries I want to enjoy before getting around to my own main event. Tease my miminy-piminy poppet before letting him have his little souvenir of Bardelask. Keep him begging. Take my time in the buildup. But you'll be waked up when the real fun starts-no fear!"

Energized at last by sheer panic, Tony spun wildly about and staggered toward the stern. There was no way he could escape overboard. Abaft the wheelhouse, the boat was still securely roofed over, the pla.s.s panels held in place by stubborn little clips. To hide then ... but the big deck hatches wouldn't budge, and the lockers were too small to hold him, and the pedestals of the benches were already stuffed with marine paraphernalia.