Айзек Азимов - Before The Golden Age

“We seek one who has fled from Kau,” he replied. “As long as the light holds we will continue our search. Such were my orders.”

“It is unfortunate that you men of Kau do not understand some of the laws of nature with which I am familiar,” I said. “If you were, it would be a simple matter to communicate with your sovereign and ask for a modification of your orders. The waves which come from your power house could easily carry a message to you.”

“How would such a thing be possible?” demanded Neimeha in amazement.

I smiled enigmatically.

“It is but one of the things which I can teach you,” I replied. “I could instruct one of your learning in a short time, but I do not choose to do so. Perhaps your Sibama will desire to confine this new knowledge to his Alii. How long will it take us to fly to Kaulani?”

He turned to a map hanging on the wall and I walked over and studied it. It was the first map of the submicroscopic country I had ever seen, for Ulm had not progressed to the stage of map making and probably never would have. The Ulmites were possessed of an uncanny sense of direction which enabled them to find their way readily about their domain without other aid.

I had been captured in what was apparently a “no man’s land” between the empires of Ulm and Kau. Ulm lay, as nearly as I could scale distances by the eye, about ninety miles due west of where we were. The old legend had lied after all. Kaulani was roughly two hundred miles to the east, a hundred and fifty of which were over barren mountains.

“We can fly to Kaulani in an hour and a half,” said Neimeha. “In view of your presence, I am going to alter my instructions on my own initiative and take you directly to the city.”

“I thank you,” I said. “I am fairly familiar with this type of ship. With your permission, I will take the dual set of controls and guide the ship a part of the way.”

He nodded and for the rest of the trip I devoted my attention to improving my technique. There was really nothing to it and long before we reached Kaulani, I was as confident of my ability to fly any ship in the country as I was of my ability to fly a Bach or a Douglas.

It was nearly dark when we landed in Kaulani. The plan of the city resembled the plan of Ulm, but the architecture was of a much lighter and more graceful type. Not that Ulm had not been a beautiful city but its beauty was the beauty of grandeur and massiveness with utter simplicity marking its architectural lines. Kaulani, as well as I could tell in the gathering dusk, was made up of buildings of a much more graceful style. I could not place the type of architecture, although in the daylight it had a strong note of the best Grecian style in it.

We landed in the huge grounds surrounding the royal palace. Neimeha and two of his guards escorted me into the palace to a floor below the level of the ground.

“I am placing you in the slave’s quarters,” he explained, “not that your status as a guest has changed, but that it is necessary that you be kept under surveillance, until it is learned whether Kapioma Sibama will receive you. The slave’s quarters are the only place where this can be done. Besides, I thought that you might like to see some of your old subjects,” he added with a touch of malice in his voice.

The room into which I stepped was the central recreation room of a large suite of rooms. It was well lighted and ventilated and was fitted with a number of comfortable looking chairs and divans. At the far end of the room a half dozen men clothed in coarse white garments were grouped together talking. They turned as I entered and surveyed me from head to foot. As I approached them, one stepped in front of the rest and looked at me keenly. I suddenly became aware that I was dressed in corduroy breeches and a flannel shirt and not in the gorgeous robes of the Crown Prince of Ulm with the diadem indicative of my royal rank blazing on my brow. These garments were not suitable for rough work and I had left them at my adjuster in the care of Olua. With as much of an air of dignity as I could command, I stepped forward to face the group. Suddenly I recognized the man who had stepped forward.

“Moka!” I shouted with joy. It was indeed Moka Alii, Lord Chamberlain of Kalu’s court.

The old nobleman stared at me in unbelief for a moment and then a red flush stole over his haughty face. Pointedly he turned his back on me.

“Moka!” I cried again. “Don’t you remember me? I am Courtney Siba Tam, your prince; Courtney Sibama, if Olua spoke the truth when he said that Kalu Sibama was no more.”

Moka turned and faced me coldly, entirely ignoring my outstretched hand.

“I recognize you, Courtney,” he said in a biting tone, carefully avoiding giving me any title, “to my regret, but my lips will never touch the hand of a traitor, though I be boiled in oil for my refusal!”

“Moka!” I cried in real anguish, for the coldness of the first friend I had made in Ulm cut me to the heart. “It is not true. I am no traitor to Ulm. I was delayed in my task and was on my way to Ulm with aid when I learned that it had fallen. I surrendered to the Kauans and hastened here to bring what aid and comfort I could to those of my subjects who still lived. Never have I deserted Ulm and never has the thought of her welfare been absent from my thoughts.”

“Traitor! Doubly dyed traitor!” said Moka slowly and bitingly, “and now, it seems, liar to boot! Well, I know the plan with which you left Ulm. You planned to aid her enemies and to depose Kalu Sibama, your lord, and reign in his stead. Thankful I am that Kalu, who foolishly loved you, died before he knew of your treachery.”

“I am no traitor, Moka,” I cried, “and who says I am, lies in his throat! Hold up, old friend,” I exclaimed as he sprang at me, “I am not hitting at you but at the one who told you this pack of lies. Where did you learn what you thought were my plans?”

“Your smooth tongue, which deluded Kalu Sibama, will not avail you, Courtney,” he said coldly. “Cover your face in confusion and learn that your treachery was told by Lamu Siba, whom you tried to corrupt and failed.”

“Lamu!” I gasped—”Did Lamu return to Ulm?”

“He is here and he has told of the plans which you broached to him to destroy Kalu and of how he fled from you when he learned of your baseness. Your treachery is proven indeed, Courtney.”

“So he got back to Ulm safely,” I said. Somehow I had always had an idea that he must have missed the city as I did and thought that he and Awlo were wandering somewhere in the submicroscopic world. The news that he had reached Ulm and had managed to turn my friends against me was a bitter blow for it could mean only one thing, that Awlo was dead. Had she been alive, he could never have told that tale and been believed. With a sinking heart I put my next question.

“What of Awlo?” I asked.

I reeled back as Moka struck me a blow on the mouth.

“Dog!” he cried. “The name of a Sibimi of Ulm must not be uttered by the lips of a perjured traitor! To complete your confusion, I will tell you that the Sibimi of Ulm is in Kaulani.”

“Said she that I was a traitor?” I demanded bitterly. Moka paused.

“No,” he admitted slowly, “she did not, but it is unnecessary. Lamu Siba has told enough. We men of Ulm need no word from her to damn you further.”

My heart leaped with joy at the thought that Awlo was alive and in the same city with me, and while her silence was inexplicable, I knew that she must have some good reason for it. Awlo knew that I was no traitor to Ulm and I would have staked my life on her love and loyalty.

“Listen, old friend,” I said to Moka, “it was never your way to condemn a man unheard in his own defense on the testimony of his enemies. You have known me as your lord and as your friend for years; have you ever known me to speak an untruth?”