Bradley, Marion Zimmer Darkover The Falcons of Narabedla

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in enforced sleep or suspended animation -- called for
energy, kinetic energy, available from one source and
from one source only. Adric had fed the Dreamer lib-
erally with that source. For a time.
One day, as a whim, I had redeemed a young
woman marked for that fate. Then the vagueness
came and choked memory. I might think, I might
burst my brain, but so far and no further could I re-
member. I could not force memory of that chain of
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events.
But after that, Adric's reign had collapsed like an
arch with the keystone removed. His armies scat-
tered; he had shut himself up or been imprisoned in
the Crimson Tower, his memories had been stolen,
and he had gone, or been sent, spinning along a time
line, forward or perhaps back, whether in Time or
Space I could not imagine, until somewhere in the
abyss of the other worlds he had touched the man
who knew himself as Mike Kenscott.
And then, perhaps, Adric had escaped. He had
reached out, drawn Mike Kenscott into his web and
exchanged the two. It was a perfect escape, perhaps,
for a life Adric had come to hate; a life filled with too
many conflicts to be endured.
But I was Adric. ...
There was an explanation for that, too. The physi-
cal body could not make the transition. I had Adric's
body, the convolutions of his brain, the synaptic links
of habit. His memory banks. Only the ego, the super-
imposed pattern of conscious identity -- the soul, if you
will -- was that of Mike Kenscott. In Adric's body and
brain, the old patterns and habits ruled and, to all
intents and purposes, I was Adric.
And back in my own time, I supposed, Adric was
living in my body, living Mike Kenscott's life, going
through the motions, with only the same queer lapses
I was making here. And after a while, even these
would fade. I was wholly trapped. Living Adric's life,
would Adric grow stronger and stronger in me, until
-- he? -- wholly unseated the other identity? And he,
with my body, somewhere in the other world, would
he become me?
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Andy, 1 thought with a wild swift fear, what will he
do to Andy?
Nothing. He could not harm Andy, not in my pat-
tern, any more than I could hate Evarin. Or could he?
I had drawn my sword, today, on a man who called
me friend, given him to Karamy's terrible flowers.
I had to get back! God, I had to get back! But how?
How had I come here?
Once before, for a little while, Adric and I had
touched lives on -- what had Gamine called it? The
Time Ellipse. That day they thought the lab was
struck by lightning. For eighteen hours, while I lay
crushed under a laboratory beam, and later under
drugs in the hospital) he and I had shared a fragment
of life somehow. But the escape had not been com-
plete. Something had driven him, or drawn him, back
to his own world.
And he had tried again, or had been sent back And
this time he seemed to have succeeded. Was he in my
hunting cabin in the mountains, cleaning fish for sup-
per, curiously rummaging through my electrical
equipment? Viciously I hoped he'd give himself some
damned good shocks on it.
Something of Adric had stayed with me after our
first contact. The strange lapses, the day I had flown
at an eagle with my knife.
When the red sun glowed like a darkening ember
across the Sierras, one of Karamy's toy-soldier guards
came with a summons. Hat, mechanical, the words
were a simple request for my presence, but they
made me shudder. Somehow I had thought that these
-- zombies? -- could not speak I stared at the man. He
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was a tall sturdy looking fellow, with a round simple
freckled face, bronzed with health; arms and chest
were bulging with muscle. But the eyes were ran-
dom, unfocused, the mouth was drooping-slack, and
when I questioned him about where I was to go he
stared and shifted his eyes and repeated in the same
flat tone:
"The presence of the Lord Adric is requested."
He stood without moving, immobile except for the
slow rise and fall of his breath, and finally it dawned
on me that if this creature had no volition, he -- or it-
was simply waiting for my command. I wanted to
tell it to go away, but I wasn't sure whether I could
find my way without a guide.
I went automatically to the cupboard, drew out a
crimson cloak lined thickly with fur, and shrugged it
around my shoulders with a careless gesture; then-
waved my hand at the silent sentry and he turned, his
slow even tread ringing on the stairs. I followed him
down through a labyrinth of stairs and elevator-
shafts, finally emerging into a long corridor.
I strode down it, hearing my own steps echo; a
second rhythm joined my steps, almost impercep-
tibly, and Gamine stole out of the darkness, still lumi-
nously veiled, a noiseless ghost behind me. Later I
became conscious of Evarin's padding cat-steps trail-
ing us. And others came from darkened recesses to
stretch the silent parade; a girl in a slim-winged cloak
the color of flame, a dwarfed man who walked in a
huddle of purple cloak and dark fur.
The corridor began to angle upward, climbing to-
ward a gleam of light at the end. Without realizing it,
I had swung into an arrogant, loping stride; now I
brushed away the slave-soldier who headed the col-
umn, and took the lead myself. Behind me the others
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fell into file as if I had bidden them; the flame-clothed
girl in the winged cloak, Evarin in leaf-green, the
dwarf bent in his jester's cap, shrouded Gamine.
Without warning we came into a vast courtyard, an
enclosed plaza of imposing grandeur.
The red sun glowed above us like a gas fire. There
were tall pillars on three sides of the court, and at the
far end a vaulted archway, leading into a tree-lined
drive that stretched away, shadowy, into the forest.
Between two pillars Karamy waited, slim, shimmer-
ing, golden; a hungry impatience sparked her cat's
eyes.
"You're late!"
"I'm ready now," I said. For what, I wasn't sure.
Karamy waved an impatient signal to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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