Gateway to Elsewhere

“Intelligent of them,” grunted Tony. “Very well, then! The first thing is to get Ghail and the Queen back to Barkut. Then we’ll start fresh from there. Do you want to arrange matters?”

“For what else,” asked Abdul blandly, “did your Majesty make me your grand vizier?”

He bowed to the ground and vanished. The parade formed almost immediately after. It set out across the desert with the celerity of djinn traffic. The elephant litter maintained a forty-mile speed principally because the elephants were nearly five stories tall. Whirlwinds went on before, spreading out as scouts on all sides, and overhead some dozens of rocs cruised at different altitudes for an air umbrella against possible attack by the former king and his half dozen malcontents. It was all quite preposterous. The elephant litter itself was the size of an eight-room house and actually contained two floors and different compartments on each floor. The Queen sat gracefully underneath the canopy on the sun deck on top. Ghail sat beside her, her lips tightly compressed. Despite the speed of their journeying, the litter was hot. Ghail, however, remained wrapped up in all the voluminous wrappings of a respectable woman during travel.

“Listen,” said Tony, “aren’t you hot?”

“I’ll do,” said Ghail composedly.

“As a slave,” said Tony, “the Queen can give you permission to make yourself comfortable. Why not?”

Ghail regarded him ominously. But the Queen said:

“He’s right, my dear. Why don’t you slip out of that dreadfully hot cloak?”

“He,” said Ghail in even tones, “is very fond of looking at legs. My legs, or anybody else’s legs. And he hasn’t any djinnees with him to sit around like the hussies they are—for instance, that djinnee who held his coat while he fought Es-Souk! So he is unhappy!” Then she flared out at Tony. “Why don’t you get another litter for yourself? All you have to do is command it! Or we’ll get out of this litter and ride on camels, and you can have as many djinnees around you as you want! You can—”

Tony scowled. “If you’re thinking of Nasim… wait a minute!”

He stood up and went to the rail of the gently swaying sun deck. Alongside, a few hundred yards away, a smaller litter kept pace with this. That was the traveling carriage of Abdul, who had explained blandly that as grand vizier to Tony who was king of the djinn a certain amount of state for himself was desirable. But Abdul’s litter was merely carried by two thirty-foot camels, and the litter slung between them was no larger than the cabin of an eight-passenger plane. It was suitably less stately than Tony’s equipage. When Tony bellowed at it, its interior was completely hidden by silken draperies.

“Abdul!” roared Tony.

The thirty-foot camels intelligently swerved to bring Abdul’s litter close. And even so soon, Abdul had attuned himself to react instantly to a call in Tony’s voice. Instantly the drapes were torn aside. Abdul beamed across the space between litters.

But for half a breath Tony did not recognize him. Abdul swaggered, of course—but that was part of his personality. It was his form which was strangely unfamiliarly familiar. He was, in fact, a duplicate of Tony. He wore exact facsimiles of Tony’s soft felt hat, his belted-in-the-back camel’s-hair topcoat, and undoubtedly his feet were encased in duplicates of Tony’s brown shoes. But the face was still the face of Abdul, and it beamed.

Behind him, in the litter, Nasim also beamed at Tony.

“Majesty!” cried Abdul happily. “What is your will?” Tony stared—and inspiration struck.

“That is Nasim, isn’t it?” he demanded.

“Yes, Majesty,” called Nasim archly. She came and stood beside Abdul. “Look! Doesn’t he look just like you? Isn’t he wonderful?”

Tony said sternly:

“It was my thought that I had not yet rewarded Nasim for her aid in the fight with Es-Souk. I see that she has chosen her reward. It is my will that the two of you marry!”

Nasim giggled. Abdul bowed so low that he almost fell out of the litter.

“To hear is to obey, Majesty!”

“And it is also my will,” said Tony severely, “that if at any time in the future Nasim comes into my presence, she must have some clothes on! After all, I’m human!”

“Aye, Majesty!” said Abdul. Nasim coyly pulled a drape about herself.

“That’s all!” said Tony.

He turned his back. The camel litter swerved away. The Queen seemed to be trying to stifle laughter. Ghail looked utterly infuriated.

“Well?” said Tony.

“If the Queen,” said Ghail furiously, “commands that I sacrifice my modesty to the King of the Djinns so that he can see if he wishes to purchase me—”

Tony said just as angrily:

“Hold on! I haven’t talked business to the Queen yet! But I’ll talk it now!” He turned to the much-amused Queen. “Majesty, I understand that I’m the King of the Djinns. Most of the riches I’m supposed to have are fake, as you know. But if there aren’t any real riches, I’ll make these djinns of mine work until there are! And I’ll pay you any sum you care to name if you’ll set Ghail free so she won’t be a slave any longer.”

His conscience spoke approvingly. Tony snarled at it. The Queen almost choked on her laughter. Ghail’s face went blank. She stared incredulously at Tony.

“And—and then what?” asked the Queen.

“Then,” said Tony doggedly, “I’ll try to persuade her to marry me. It isn’t that I’m too damned moral, but I don’t think I’d like bought kisses, however legal the transaction might be in this country.”

“And—and if she would not marry you?” asked the Queen.

Tony looked at Ghail. Her face was crimson, and though there was no perceptible softening in her expression, her eyes showed distinct satisfaction.

“If she wouldn’t marry me,” said Tony shrewdly, “then—I guess I’d have to take an interest in music. After all, I understand that Esir and Esim have pretty good voices.”

The satisfaction vanished from Ghail’s expression. Fury came back.

“I thought,” she observed in detached scorn, “that you would not care for purchased kisses.”

“But I didn’t buy Esir and Esim,” said Tony. “They were gifts. That’s different!”

Then he ducked. A dark shadow flashed past overhead, so close that it seemed almost to touch the sun deck. It was the monstrous body of a roc, soaring swiftly downward from the sky. It touched ground almost directly before the leading elephant, shivered, and became a twelve-foot djinn in what was probably the djinnian air-force uniform. He raced toward the elephant litter.

“Majesty!” he bellowed. “Enemy djinns sighted twelve o’clock overhead! Closing fast!”

Tony reacted swiftly. He bellowed for Abdul and roared for a ladder. Instead, the gigantic trunk of the rear elephant swung around and held itself invitingly ready. Tony scrambled on board. Abdul bounced out of his litter in a wild leap, turned into something unusual on the way to the earth, and landed with a splashing of sand. He arose, himself again.

“Majesty!” he said, beaming. “The chimaera form for this conflict?”

“And make it snappy!” Tony rasped. “I don’t think anything drastic can happen, but—”

Abdul puffed out into the snaky creation of his nightmare, with its face of mist. There was the saddle as before. Tony climbed into it and buckled the safety belt.

“Go ahead!” he commanded.

There was a sensation of almost unbearable acceleration and he rode upward into the blue.

At five thousand feet they passed the first flight of rocs. The great birds wheeled aside to make room for them and then craned their necks to watch. At ten thousand feet Abdul and Tony passed the second line of air defense. From this height Tony could distinctly see the oasis and the gleaming white walls of Barkut. Still the chimaera hurtled skyward. At fifteen thousand feet the ceiling squadron of rocs was left behind.

Abdul turned his temporarily snaky neck about and said triumphantly:

“Majesty! They flee! From us!”