John Brunner - The Whole Man

The furs and gaudy hangings on the “chiefs wagon” were snatched aside, revealing that they covered only a light bamboo frame with enough space for a man to enter, wait as if talking to the chief, and turn around to leave again. Apart from that, the whole wagon was an incendiary machine, full of tinder, pitch and jars of oil.

Now they whipped the only pair of oxen which had not been unharnessed. The startled beasts bellowed and leaned on the traces; the wagon rolled. After ten yards men dashed in with swords and slashed the oxen free, and the wagon continued by itself down the sloping road to the gate, its wooden wheels rumbling.

Hao Sen waited tensely. The defenders had seen what was happening, and were scrambling frantically to get off the balcony over the gate.

Another ten yards…

The fire-arrows went whizzing after the wagon, the second and third struck fair on oil-soaked rags at the back of the inflammable pile, and flames soared twenty feet, crowned with licking black thunderheads of smoke. The wagon slammed into the gate with a crunch of collapsing boards, and at once there was an inferno.

So far, so good. But had Chu Lao been taken unawares ?

Apparently not, for the rain came streaming down after only a few minutes” hesitation. As the smoke and flames died, it could be seen that a wide gash had opened in the gate. Another incendiary wagon was being readied at the head of the slope to follow the first when the gate was hurled open and the defenders charged out in force.

This was such an illogical act that Hao Sen was startled. Tiger City’s best strategy would clearly be to wear the attackers down — or so he had thought. For a moment he questioned his own planning; then the city guards, both mounted and on foot, were streaming forward with yells and much brandishing of swords, and there was no time to wonder about second-best courses of action.

The fighting spread by degrees all around the city. It was tough work. After a while Hao Sen spotted a large silken banber being borne forward from the gate, and dismissed his own command into the charge of a junior officer whom he suspected of being one of his schizoid secondaries. That banner was embroidered with a tiger, and must belong to the Emperor—

No! Wait!

Sudden insight, as blinding as lightning, pierced the grey sober mood of Hao Sen’s mind. The tiger banner couldn’t be the Emperor’s; the Imperial symbol was the dragon, the most powerful of all beasts. So the tiger would be reserved to Chu Lao, the wizard, because this was his city — Tiger City — and magic operated here according to strict rules of which he had seen an example when Chu Lao repaired his sword and told him that a weapon which had killed a dragon was worth keeping…

And the tiger was only the second most powerful beast!

Hao Sen urged Starlight forward, his mind racing, trying to beat his path to the spot where the tiger-gaudy banner was set up.

There was a violent melee all around it, so it was a while before he could reach a spot from where he could see if indeed Chu Lao had come out to supervise the battle. Three times he had to use his spike to spit a construct soldier, and the third time lost his grasp on it; shocked, because that implied he was much tireder than he had believed, he took a firm grip on himself as well as his sword.

At the same moment he saw the wizard under his banner, and the wizard saw him. Instantly, guards formed to block his path. Hoping that Chu Lao’s attention was distracted, he hurled himself sideways from his saddle, and Starlight rose on her hind legs, kicking furiously. The guards went flying.

The camel afforded only an instant’s respite, though. She was slashed across the forelegs the moment she touched ground with them. Hao Sen ignored her dying wails and fought onward, his sword sweeping an arc of death. Twice glancing blows made his helmet ring; twice he felt his sword-point slow and then free itself in a manner that meant it had cut clean through flesh. A dismembered arm seemed for one wild moment trying to catch hold of him by the beard.

Then he was through, and into the circle of enchanted ground surrounding the wizard.

“Chu Lao!” he shouted. “Chu Lao!”

The wizard, astonished, gazed at him — and yet that wasn’t only astonishment. There was — sardonic amusement…

Hao Sen rushed on. “Chu Lao, I name your city!”

All over the battlefield men seemed to lose heart for the fight. As though struck by a premonition, Chu Lao wavered.

“The city is Tiger City! That tiger is your city! And the tiger is less powerful than the dragon!”

How it happened could not be seen, but where the city had stood was a green-eyed striped cat, crouching and snarling, its claws unsheathed and huge beyond imagining.

“My tiger!” cried Chu Lao. “Yes, that is my tiger!”

“And this sword has drunk a dragon’s blood!” Hao Sen shouted “ This sword is my dragon!”

He whirled the blade once around his head and flung it sparkling into the air; as it twisted, it changed, and as it fell it fell on four gigantic taloned feet. It raised its spiny head and waved its monstrous tail. Its open jaws roared defiance at the tiger.

It reared up. It slashed, and its talons added stripes of blood to the tiger’s hide. It bit, and rivers of blood stained the earth. Vainly the tiger clawed at its impenetrable scales. It had no chance. In moments it was struck down, with a thud to shake the world. Everything was riven apart, and with it Hao Sen.

For an instant he saw the rival armies, the gory ground, the dead and dying, and—

And it was over and he was Howson, not Hao Sen, and he was full of a nameless terror because of the way he had won.

He stood at the end of the bed where they had put Choong to recover, waiting for him to wake up. Meantime, he had no refuge from his thoughts.

I think that Miss Moreno knew — at any rate, she left so quickly, before I’d slept off my exhaustion… And Pak knows, but I can trust him after the times we’ve worked together…

Pandit Singh, of course, had no inkling of the terrible truth which had come to Howson. He was going around radiating paternal pride, and all the UN people — Lockspeiser and Ho and everybody — were feeling apologetic for doubting him in the first place, and Howson felt mainly a dull ache.

His triumph, had been a sham. The whole business had been set up like tenpins for him, and he had been given an unlimited number of balls.

And here was Choong, who had treated him like a plaything, who was happily married and physically whole, and the world was so grossly unjust he didn’t know how long he could stand it.

Choong stirred, and it was as though a gigantic light had been switched on in the room; everything stood out in bright three-dimensional forms compared to which there had been grey dusk. That was his perception waking up. Only another telepathist would have realized there was a difference.

His eyes opened. There was a moment of blankness. Then:

I seem to know you… ?

“Yes, you know me. Gerald Howson.” Deliberately he used words; he was shutting down every batten he could over his raging mind. “You’ve made a fool of me, haven’t you? Well, I want to know why !”

There was another blank moment during which Choong ordered his thoughts with a swiftness which impressed Howson despite his preconceived anger.

“So you handled my — ah — case,” Choong said, and gave a wry smile. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have thought it necessary to bother you, of all people. A comparative novice should have been assigned to me. I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I wasn’t on the run, and would be willing to be brought back.”