The Grand Ellipse Part 53

She lowered her eyes to quench the eager light in them. Part of her ached fiercely to take his advice. Part of her, equally insistent, rebelled at the thought of leaving him here, in such a state; rebelled, she realized with a certain alarm, at the thought of leaving him at all.

"I'm not abandoning you when you're ill," she returned, almost surprised at the conviction in her own voice. "There'll be another train coming through sometime later today or tonight. With any luck we'll both be on it."

"Stow me in baggage car?" His attempted smile was dreadful.

"If necessary. If you really can't be moved, I'll leave when I know you're being properly looked after."

"No. Stornzof. Win."

She was silent. She wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, that his health and safety were more important than any race, which they certainly were. But the words would not emerge.

"Look at me," Girays commanded.

She met his eyes unwillingly. His face was sadly altered, but his eyes were still his own, intelligent and too observant at times.

"I understand," he said, and did not need to elaborate, for the comprehension was mutual.

"I see that you do, but-"

"Listen. Be all right. Drug wear off. Not fatal, or already dead. Knock me out of race, though. You go on. Win."

He was telling her that it was all right to go, he was telling her exactly what she longed to hear and believe, but it was not all right. The idea of leaving him alone and incapacitated in a foreign railroad station was thoroughly obscene. The tears were starting to well again, and this time she could not control them.

"Girays, I want to stay with you." Her voice was almost as halting and garbled as his. "Do you hear, I want to stay. I can catch the later train, it will be all right. If Karsler draws ahead, I can catch up with him later. I've done it before, several times, and I can do it again. I will will do it. But right now-" do it. But right now-"

"No. Too near end. Fall behind now, lose."

"No, no I won't. A measly few hours won't-"

"Luzelle." He held her with his eyes. "You asked before why I race. Remember?"

She nodded.

"Ministry. Vo Rouvignac came. A second Vonahrish racer to draw enemy attention away from you. Did, too. d.a.m.ned lard-smackers."

"I never let myself think of that, although it should have been obvious. You're you, I should have known. But that's all the more reason why I should-"

"Not waste chance. Waste everything, for everybody. Not now. Go. Win."

She stared at him. Something filled her grip, and she looked down to discover herself squeezing one of Girays's hands fiercely in both her own. The force of the hold would have caused him pain, had he retained the least sensation. She released him at once. The tears streamed down her face.

Voices and scuffling outside. The door opened, and there was the manager, accompanied by a harried individual bearing a black bag.

"Here is the epileptic," the manager announced.

"He is not an epileptic." Infuriated, Luzelle turned to face them. "He's been drugged and poisoned, anyone can see that. You are the doctor?" she appealed to the stranger. Without awaiting reply she continued, "Please, know that this man is in excellent health, only he has been drugged, and now his muscles are useless. Surely your bag contains some strong stimulant that will-"

"Madame, I speak no Vonahrish," the physician announced in Hetzian.

She stared at him. In that speechless moment a whistle shrilled and a bell clanged. The southbound train, scheduled to depart at twelve thirty-seven, was pulling into the station. Her eyes flew to Girays.

"Go," he said clearly. "Please. Go."

"I love you," she answered.

Picking up her skirts, she ran from the office, back through the buffet, pausing only long enough to scoop up the valise still sitting beside the door where she had left it. Then out into the warm summer air and across the platform, sprinting for the southbound train.

THE SUN WAS SETTING as Karsler Stornzof disembarked at Lissildt Station in Lis Folaze. Outside the station house the lamplighters were already at work, and the yellow lights were glowing softly through the perpetual mists of Upper Hetzia. as Karsler Stornzof disembarked at Lissildt Station in Lis Folaze. Outside the station house the lamplighters were already at work, and the yellow lights were glowing softly through the perpetual mists of Upper Hetzia.

Lissildt Station overlooked the silver Folaze River that wound through the heart of the old city. A river pier some few yards distant accommodated a dozen or more small water-hansoms. Karsler engaged one and found himself once again troubled by the obsequious grimaces of the oarsman, who, like so many of his compatriots, cringed at sight of a Grewzian uniform.

And there were so many grey uniforms to be seen. As the water-hansom traveled upstream, Karsler glimpsed them repeatedly; small bands of his countrymen patrolling the riverside neighborhoods with the a.s.surance of conquerors. Not that Upper Hetzia was a Grewzian conquest. Quite the contrary, the nation enjoyed favored status as an ally of the Imperium. Nevertheless, the imperior's ubiquitous peacekeeping forces roused obvious fear.

He did not care to see it. Lifting his gaze from the banks, he distracted himself with a world-renowned vista of tripart.i.te domes and distinctively triple-forked spires draped in fog.

The little boat reached a pier nestled beside one of the numberless red stone bridges spanning the Folaze. Karsler paid the oarsman and returned to dry land. He stood in a region of white town houses boldly ornamented with geometric designs picked out in squares of polished black stone. A fiacre carried him the rest of the way to his destination, and he alighted at the front door of the grand Marbleflower Hotel.

He paused briefly to make inquiries at the desk, then proceeded up the stairs and along a thickly carpeted corridor to suite number 220. He forced himself to knock, heard a familiar voice bid him enter, and went in.

For an instant time seemed to reverse itself and he almost fancied himself back in Jumo Towne, for there was another richly appointed hotel room, there was the Grandlandsman Torvid Stornzof attired in faultless evening wear, there a slim bottle in a silver cooler, a haze of cigarette smoke, and apparently nothing had changed.

"Welcome back to civilization, Nephew." Torvid did not rise from the couch. "Pour yourself a congratulatory gla.s.s, if you like."

"Thank you, Grandlandsman." Karsler obeyed. "But congratulations are premature."

"I think not, the thing is all but accomplished. Now sit down, if you will, and tell me what has happened since we parted. I have read the newspapers, but these accounts are penned by idiots and cannot be trusted. I am particularly interested in hearing of your progress through Rhazaulle, whose natives are capable of impertinence."

"They would have been capable of more than that, had they recognized me as a Grewzian officer. I was obliged to adopt civilian dress while I traveled along the Xana."

"Very good. I had feared that your Promontory principles might perhaps preclude such subterfuge. That, in fact, was for a time my chief concern."

"Promontory principles do not ordinarily preclude self-preservation, Grandlandsman."

"That is rea.s.suring beyond measure. But come, your report."

For the next quarter hour or so, Karsler related most of what had befallen him since Jumo Towne. Only a few details he omitted as superfluous. He did not speak of the a.s.sistance he had rendered Luzelle Devaire in the midst of the Aveshquian mud. Nor did he mention the Grewzian ma.s.sacre of a Rhazaullean village, a topic certain to provoke a quarrel. He described the difficulties of driving a team of sled dogs across Ukizik's ice fields, he dwelt at some length on the storm that had so nearly sent the Walrus Walrus to the bottom of the Sea of Ice, he told of the troublesome plague of carnivorous bats in Obran. At last, having briefly sketched an uneventful progress from Bunckel to Lissildt Station in Lis Folaze, Karsler fell silent. to the bottom of the Sea of Ice, he told of the troublesome plague of carnivorous bats in Obran. At last, having briefly sketched an uneventful progress from Bunckel to Lissildt Station in Lis Folaze, Karsler fell silent.

Torvid considered. "Not too bad," he judged at last. "You have hardly exploited every possible opportunity, and yet, on the whole, not too bad. Congratulations are surely in order."

"Not yet. The race is by no means over. I do not know the exact location of the two Vonahrish contestants, but they cannot be more than hours behind me at best, and it is not at all impossible that they have already reached Lis Folaze. In fact I would do well to continue traveling tonight, on horseback if necessary, if I am to maintain-"

"You need not inconvenience yourself. The Vonahrish difficulty has been resolved-conclusively, I trust."

Karsler set his gla.s.s aside with care. "Explain," he commanded quietly.

"Bah, save your concern." Torvid's brows rose. "I have not maimed or murdered your little Devaire, if that is what you fear. The other one, v'Alisante, is similarly unharmed. They have simply been delayed en route."

"Delayed how?"

"The technicalities are without importance. Enough to know that you have gained an advantage of twelve hours or so-enough to ensure your victory, provided you do not squander them."

"What have you done, Grandlandsman?"

"Served Grewzland and House Stornzof, I believe. That should suffice."

"I hope you will not compel me to retrace my steps in order to investigate. You understand that I will do it."

"That is absurd. Very well, Nephew, since you press me with such zeal, I will a.s.suage your curiosity. I had one of my people slip a little something into the lunch the two Vonahrish ordered at Wolktretz Station. The immobilizing effect is short-lived-a matter of hours-and when it wears off, health and vigor are fully restored. What could be milder or more humane? Even you, with your girlish sensibilities, must concede as much."

"There can be no doubt? Luzelle and v'Alisante both ingested some sort of drug?"

"I would a.s.sume that both ate lunch. As far as that goes, however, I have not yet actually heard from my agent."

"And you regard this piece of treachery as a necessity?"

"Victory is the sole necessity. This is a very simple concept, yet one that somehow seems to exceed your grasp."

"It did not occur to you that I might win this race fairly, without benefit of your destructive meddling?"

"It occurred to me," Torvid returned deliberately, "but I was forced to dismiss that rosy hope long ago. You have from the beginning proved yourself unwilling to sacrifice as circ.u.mstance demands."

"Sacrifice?"

"Vanity, self-consequence, this deluded self-important preoccupation with the purity of your own character, the pretty juvenile notions of sportsmans.h.i.+p and fair play suitable to the school yard but not the world beyond-"

"In short, honor."

"Spoken like a true schoolboy. Your infinite sanctimony begins to annoy me. You will win this race, and the Stornzof name will gain l.u.s.ter by it, but know this. Save for my meddling, as you term it, you would have lost all possible hope of victory long ago."

"How so?"

"Oh, spare yourself distressing knowledge. Revel on in your spotless Promontory innocence."

"Answer, or I will withdraw from the race tonight."

"How can I withstand such blazing moral authority? Very well, there was the Szarish woman with her peculiar conveyance, at the beginning of the race. She might well have left all rivals far behind, had I not taken the necessary steps. Later on, those twin Travornish cretins a.s.sumed the lead and very likely would have kept it, but for me. I did what was needed, then and now. I regret to observe that you cannot say the same. My intervention should have been redundant, you should have overcome all obstacles without a.s.sistance, but this you were unable, or rather, unwilling to do."

Karsler's vision turned inward, and he thought of other voices, other places, other realities of his past. There was silence for a time while he remembered, and when he finally answered, his aspect was serene and seemingly untroubled.

"Grandlandsman, I will finish the race, for reasons that I see little point in explaining to you. It is an obligation to warn you at this time, however, that if I am first to close the Grand Ellipse, I must decline the victor's prize. I will relinquish first place to the next contestant to set foot in Toltz."

"This is childish petulance. I do not take it seriously."

"Take it as you will. I have informed you of my decision."

"Must I remind you that it is scarcely your decision? There is far more at stake here than the integrity of your precious individual conscience. Forget your selfish concerns for once. This is a matter touching upon Grewzian national pride, and it disgusts me to hear a Stornzof speak of compromise. I will not hear it."

"Then I will leave you, Grandlandsman."

"You have not been dismissed. You forget whom you speak to, I think."

"I forget nothing. Otherwise I would not be here this evening."

"Good. Then let us understand one another. As head of House Stornzof, I command you to perform your duty. You will finish this ridiculous race, you will put forth your best efforts, and when you win, you will graciously accept the victory on behalf of Grewzland. You will also accept the Hetzian monarch's offer of an audience, of which there is more to be said at a later date. I trust I have made myself clear."

"I must refuse."

"The matter is not open to argument. You have received your orders, there is nothing more to be said."

"I have notified you of my intentions, and you are right-there is nothing more to be said."

"I do not think you hear me. I order you to serve your House, your imperior, and your nation. You cannot pretend that higher obligations exist."

"I can," Karsler answered, after a moment's pause. "I do."

"Then that sickly monastery of a Promontory has turned the Stornzof blood in your veins to whey. You are a coward, a weakling, and a fool."

"I am a Grewzian recognizing the flaws in an Imperium founded upon the barbarism and mindless amorality of men such as yourself, Grandlandsman."

"Ah? I see you are worse than weakling and fool-you are a traitor."

"You go too far. I have tried to accord you respect, but I will not accept such insults."

"Then prove that you do not deserve them."

"I need prove nothing. I do not seek your approbation."

"Don't you? Take my disapprobation, then." Leaning forward in his seat, Torvid flung the contents of his winegla.s.s into his nephew's face.

Karsler rose to his feet. "Grandlandsman, I bid you farewell," he said courteously, and walked out.

23.

HER TRAIN PULLED INTO LISSILDT STATION in Lis Folaze seven minutes ahead of schedule, but Luzelle hardly appreciated the bonus. Her thoughts were back in Wolktretz, her mind filled with pictures of Girays v'Alisante, paralyzed and helpless in that wretched little windowless hole of an office. And she had left him there in such a place, in such a state. She had walked-no, run-on her merry way. Of course he had urged her to do it, and his reasons had been cogent. But she could not forgive the part of herself that had burned so fiercely to go. in Lis Folaze seven minutes ahead of schedule, but Luzelle hardly appreciated the bonus. Her thoughts were back in Wolktretz, her mind filled with pictures of Girays v'Alisante, paralyzed and helpless in that wretched little windowless hole of an office. And she had left him there in such a place, in such a state. She had walked-no, run-on her merry way. Of course he had urged her to do it, and his reasons had been cogent. But she could not forgive the part of herself that had burned so fiercely to go.

It was not as if she could have helped him by staying. She was not a doctor, there was nothing she could have done. Perhaps her presence would have cheered and heartened him, though. But no, she reminded herself, he had truly wanted her to finish the race, he had practically insisted.

She wished she could convince herself.

The train halted. She disembarked and made her way from the lamplit platform to the street, where she quickly engaged a fiacre to carry her to the nearest livery stable. The vehicle hurried off through the foggy twilight and she sat inside twisting her hands, blind to the sights of the city.

The price of a carriage and a driver willing to navigate unpaved roads by night was high, but she paid without demur, for the expense was worthwhile. Should she reach the railroad station at Groeflen in time to catch the 4:48 A.M. A.M. express from Ferille, she would cross the border into the Low Hetz hours ahead of any train pa.s.sing through Lis Folaze tonight. express from Ferille, she would cross the border into the Low Hetz hours ahead of any train pa.s.sing through Lis Folaze tonight.