of calculated torture and bloody murder. Olivia screamed. And Codlugarthia again Spoke. And the on-rushing onslaught blistered into so much fuming smoke.
Then there was silence, but for the hiss of escaping steam, the quick crackle of a bright fire consuming a wildly jumbled heap of green wire which had been cascaded out from the guts of the therapist, and the moans of the therapist itself.
‘I think,’ said Codlugarthia, ‘that our friend here will not be torturing or imprisoning anyone for quite some centuries to come.’
‘I’m blind,’ sobbed the therapist. ‘I’m blind!’
‘Never mind,’ said Codlugarthia. ‘We can repair the damage, given time. Well. That is all for the moment. Pokrov, you must stay. It seems I have need of you. As for the others… for you, my friends, it is time to go.’ ‘You don’t want to stay here,’ said Justina earnestly. ‘You can’t be serious! A million years? Here?’
‘What I need is here,’ said Codlugarthia. ‘Knowledge. Knowledge to amplify power. This is the source. There is no other.’
In vain did Chegory and Olivia plead with Codlugarthia. In vain did the Empress Justina offer him control of the island of Untunchilamon, of the city of Injiltaprajura and all its treasures. In vain did Juliet Idaho threaten him with the combined wrath of the Yudonic Knights of Galsh Ebrek. Codlugarthia was given to thinking in terms of years by the thousands and millions. While incarnated as the Crab, Codlugarthia had grown accustomed to taking the long view. And, in the long term, the mastery of the secrets of many a cosmos was far more tempting than the wearisome task of sorting out the squabbles of Injiltaprajura.
‘But you could do it,’ persisted Justina. ‘You could really do it. Peace and good will and all that. You could make Injiltaprajura a very paradise.’
‘Shabble has told me all about making paradises for human beings,’ said Codlugarthia. ‘It’s no good. The human beings start hitting each other on the second day and killing each other on the third.’
‘You exaggerate,’ said Justina.
‘Read your history books,’ retorted Codlugarthia. And, after just a little more debate, the humanized Crab sternly ordered all unwanted humans from its presence. And they then had no option but to say goodbyes to Ivan Pokrov and then to depart from that place and face whatever doom awaited them in the world above.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
As Justina led her small party through the mazeways Downstairs, she did her best to conceal her dismay, but in truth she was shocked. Ever since the present crisis began, she had always thought that she could triumph over all her enemies if only the Crab could be liberated from the form which had so long oppressed it.
Now the Crab had been so liberated, and walked the world in human form. And the faithless thing had allowed itself to be tempted from its duty by a slippery-tongued therapist! Its duty, obviously, was to serve Justina Thrug faithfully forever after, in gratitude for the way in which it had been liberated thanks to the efforts of Justina’s minion, the daring Olivia.
But the Crab had proved a thankless traitor, and so…
‘Stroth!’ said Justina, swearing softly to herself.
What would she find when she got up above? What was Trasilika doing right now? Had he killed Ek? Or did Ek still live? And Varazchavardan? And Jan Rat?
Justina was more than a little humiliated to realize that the rule of Injiltaprajura was of so little concern to the humanized Crab that it preferred to gossip away the centuries in the company of a monstrous therapist. Furthermore, such was Justina’s shock at her unexpected betrayal by the Crab that she found herself quite unable to formulate any coherent plan of action. No help in this respect came from her companions.
Chegory Guy seemed none the worse for wear after his ordeal — he was, after all, an Ebrell Islander, and such creatures are far less sensitive to rough handling than the ordinary run of humanity — but both Chegory and Olivia were going to be of very little use as far as any sensible planning went. They were too busy canoodling, something they managed even while on the move. As for Juliet Idaho, he just wanted to kill something; and Justina did not believe that any plan involving murder was likely to secure as much as their bare survival, far less their health and happiness.
The journey which had seemed so short when Justina had been leading her forces to certain victory now seemed long, tedious and wearisome as she led the march toward the uncertain future. Through dark and light they went, sometimes pursued by the squillering of vampire rats — and at last emerged into the light of day.
For safety’s sake, Justina chose to exit from the mazeways by means of the tomb-door on the desert side of Pokra Ridge. Here observing eyes were fewest. Once out in the saunabath heat of Injiltaprajura, she hesitated, unsure whether to retreat to Moremo Maximum Security Prison — the sole stronghold which any people loyal to her might have managed to seize and fortify against her enemies — or whether to proceed to the palace.
‘Where are we going?’ said Olivia.
Thus forcing Justina to decide.
‘We will go to the palace,’ she said firmly.
By fleeing to Moremo, she would only concede Injiltaprajura to any thug with the will to take it. By going to the palace, by occupying the traditional seat of power, she might yet secure the rule of the city. If her enemies were in disarray. If Manthandros Trasilika had not already set himself up once more as wazir. If Master Ek was dead, or at least too sick to speak a word against her. Given a little time — a few days, that was all she asked for — she could try other strategies. Such as producing her own false wazir.
A new scheme occurred to her: a variation on those of the past. She could produce a man, any man, any stranger to the city — one of Jal Japone’s men would do — and claim that man to be the Crab incarnated in human form.
‘I can do it,’ muttered Justina, as she strode toward the palace.
‘Do what?’ said Juliet Idaho.
‘Regain my throne,’ said Justina. ‘And my power.’
Yes.
If the events of the past few days had proved anything, they had proved that her enemies were incapable of coordinated, coherent action. They had hesitated and prevaricated when they should have struck ruthlessly and decisively. They had given themselves to doubt when they should have given themselves to action. They had been deceived repeatedly by lies, bluffs, carefully planned leaks of false information, and deceits of all kinds. They had proved themselves a pack of second-rate fools, cowards and weaklings.
Justina Thrug threw open the unguarded sally port which gave access to the pink palace from the north. She stepped inside, into the dusty silence of her palace.
‘Anyone home?’ she bellowed.
Then listened for a challenge, for clattering feet.
Nobody answered.
Nobody came.
Chegory Guy and Olivia Qasaba ventured within. Juliet Idaho peered suspiciously at the landscape without — then joined them.
‘We have the palace,’ said Justina. ‘That’s the first thing. Come. My quarters first.’
She went to her quarters, hoping to find a servant or messenger, or at least a message. But there was nothing and nobody, but for the dragon Injiltaprajura, first (and perhaps only) child of the brave-hearted dragon Untunchilamon. Justina peered closely at Injiltaprajura’s saucer.
‘At least my dragon has been fed,’ said Justina.
Indeed it had, for there was fresh milk-soaked c amp;ssava bread and a quarter of a corpse worm on the dragon’s saucer. Injiltaprajura yawned, and stretched baby dragon wings. She looked closer still. Unless she was mistaken, the dragon was ever so slightly jaundiced. That was no good! What should she do?
‘Where now?’ said Chegory.
A good question!
Justina was momentarily at a loss for an answer, and so pretended she had not heard. Chegory spoke again.
