Scorpio Invasion by Alan Burt Akers Page B

indoctrinated with sea lore they can form navies as competent as an island’s. The vast distances involved between what Rollo had known and the seaborne terror of the Shanks had, as I have said, inflated their reputations rather than the opposite. In all his youthful arrogance, fostered by the learning taught in Whonban, Rollo had understood that. He’d minimized the stories. Now I was coldly resurrecting all those hideous stories as facts.
    “All the same,” he said rebelliously, “I would still—”
    “You have what is probably the most splendid opportunity afforded any apprentice Wizard of Loh to study with Deb-Lu. Vallia is marvelous. You will like it there.”
    “More study!”
    “If you wish to advance.”
    “That’s the rote cry. Is advancement then the only criterion?”
    “Trying to make the happiest life you can for yourself and those around you is, I suppose, the main criterion. And getting on in life generally helps that ambition. But, no, you are right. There are many other factors involved, and the more advanced you get on, the unhappier you become.”
    “Well, then!”
    I started to move off back to the fliers. “You’ll just have to face the needle, Rollo. Look, give Deb-Lu a couple of seasons. See how you go.”
    “Oh, yes! That means you get rid of me now.”
    “Don’t make it harder on yourself.”
    After that we walked in silence between the trees back to the vollers. My thoughts centered on what the confounded Star Lords were up to.
    Somehow or other, after all my experience on Kregen, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe the Everoinye did not know where I was. They might have not the slightest interest in what I was doing, and had no intention of employing me in the immediate future; they kept themselves informed of my whereabouts. Their messenger and spy, the gorgeous gold and scarlet raptor called the Gdoinye, would fly over and cast his beady eye upon me and my doings. Or a little reddish brown scorpion would waddle out, waving his stinger arrogantly, and tell me my fortune in picturesque terms.
    Certainly, as it seemed to me, both Ahrinye and Zena Iztar must know where I was, for they’d cushioned my fall. At least, that was my supposition. Zena Iztar, possibly the most mysterious of all these superhuman folk, had her own designs. I felt strongly she was a friend. Ahrinye probably would not tell the Star Lords out of spite or contrariness. So — I was still running, still my own man, still free to follow my own plans.
    Those plans, as you are aware, called for a simple next step leading to horror.
    Down south in Makilorn we’d pushed Leone off the throne so that Kirsty might be queen, as the Everoinye desired. The way of doing it was beside the immediate point. Could the practical success of that plot have been enough to ensure that what the Star Lords wished to happen in the future would now take place? Their plans matured over many years. I had rescued folk for them so that those peoples’ children could strut the stage of history. Why I’d saved quite a few of the men and women I had saved remained a mystery; no doubt in the years to come the reasoning of the Star Lords regarding them would come clear in some world-shaking catastrophe, or new religion, the death of a dynasty or a simple person being in the right place at the right time to influence world events.
    Here and now there was no time to wait for those sweeping world movements. Here and now the Shanks were in Tarankar, and up to deviltry, and, like a canker, if they weren’t stopped soon they’d spread to engulf the lands about them, and so spread further. And large though Loh might be, who would be bold enough to say when the Fish Heads would stop?
    If the Star Lords couldn’t see that then they must truly be senile.
    Unless, of course, the whole damned shambles was just a game for them.
    “By Vox, jis!” exclaimed Ornol as we reached the vollers. “You look as though you’ve eaten something that griped