Slaves of Sleep

  "Tiger!" said Tombo.

  "Sir?" said Tiger.

  Captain Tombo tried to scowl more ferociously. But it happened that he had, on many occasions, suffered great delay because of the effeminate whims of this gross port captain and, for the life of him, he couldn't carry that much sail at the moment.

  "Tiger," said the captain with a glance at Boli. And he was about to go on when he saw the bedraggled silk which hung in bags all about the Lord. He changed his mind.

  "Sir?"

  "Give them a hand in righting that boat."

  "Yessir."

  Tiger sped down the gangway once more where the ship's mirth-convulsed seamen were working. They said nothing. They couldn't and still keep their laughter inside where it would not offend Boli's ears above. But their eyes were full of great affection.

  They righted the boat and, shortly, Boli's guard came down, leaving a river of water to run behind them on the steps. Gingerly they got into the barge. Nervously they prodded Tiger into the sternsheets. Fearfully they aided the port captain to his seat of state amidships.

  They shoved off and all along the rail above, sailors waved farewell. Even Captain Tombo smiled and Mr. Malek put a rope-scorched hand to his cap and raised it slightly to call, "So long, Tiger. We'll all be in to see you."

  Boli rolled around and glared at his prisoner. Now that the port captain was on, so to speak, his own deck, he was quite recovered (save that his ribs ached from respiration treatment).

  "You are very clever, my fine bucko. Everywhere you set your foot, things happen. I have heard it. Well! Do not think for one moment that your saving of Admiral Tyronin from the Isle of Fire, that your timely bombs at the Battle of Barankeet, that all your other mad deeds will stand a bit in your favor. You have flown too high! Whatever these charges are," and he fished a sealed packet from his soggy shirt, "and I don't doubt that they are severe enough, you will be tried for the crime at hand, not for deeds of questionable character long past. You have been recommended for trial by the queen herself and if she doesn't sentence you to swing, it'll not be the fault of mine."

  There was so much hatred in Boli's voice that Jan shivered. Out of him, like a dying fire, went the reckless madness which had brought him to that deed just done. He could not reason that Boli's hatred was not only born of that deed but of another, more delicate thing. Boli was badly built, ugly beyond description, and before him sat a tall, handsome fellow of a rare kind, calculated to stir the most frigid of feminine hearts. But Jan could not see himself. Jan was just Jan now. He recognized no ships, he recalled nothing. He even fumbled for his glasses to wipe them in his con足fusion and was mighty startled to find that he wore none- indeed, did not seem to need any.

  "The queen?" he gulped.

  "The queen," said Boli, satisfied now that he could feel the uneasiness in his prisoner. "Not four days past she put five heads on pikes outside her palace and that for mere thievery on the highroad. I am given to understand that you have some dread stigma attached to you. Ah, yes, my fine prankster, it seems that your lighthearted days are done. Before you there is nothing but doom and death."

  Boli enjoyed himself for the moment and almost forgot how wet he was. For the remainder of the voyage across the harbor, he piled up torments and watched his victim squirm. But, when he reached the quay, a number of loafers, beholding M'Lord the port captain as soggy as a drowned rat, burst into braying mirth.

  Boli swept an imperious eye across the rank on the dock and roared, "Sergeant, arrest them! Up, I say! I'll show you the price of laughter, that I will!"

  And though his guard tumbled swiftly up the gangway, when they got to the dock, not a man was left. Only laughter's echoes were there.

  Snorting, Boli stamped to the wharf while four men carried Jan along at the point of their swords.

  Jan, bewildered, stared up at the buildings of the town. They stretched back across the plain for miles. They reached around the harbor for leagues. What an immense town it was! Commerce jammed the wharves. Men sweated and swore, hauling cargoes about. Horses stamped and neighed as they strained at rumbling trucks. A bewildering array of signs spread out in every direction and the odd part of it was that one moment they were so many chicken scratches to Jan and the next their meaning was quite plain. Taverns and brokers' offices, sailors' hotels and shipping firms, trucking barns and chandler shops. Immediately beside them reared the customs, a building some four stories in height and of a queer architecture which was prominent in its immense scrolls and swoops and towers. All the buildings were like that, presenting a baffling line of distorted curves and garish, mismatched colors.

  Along the docks bobbed fishing boats, small beside the tower足ing castles of the ocean-going ships. From the scaly decks of the little craft a variety of weird seafood was being hoisted so that Jan knew it was still very early in the day.

  Boli stamped away up the stairs to his quarters where he could get a consoling nip and a change of clothes. His guard, forgotten, stood about, damply keeping an eye on their prisoner and very careful not to get within arm's length of him. Jan found quite accidentally that when he wandered along he carried the whole company with him and so, benighted as he was with woe, he strolled restlessly back and forth, the men moving with him but well away from him and all about him.

  Jan stared down at a pile of flapping fish just tossed from a tubby little vessel's hold. He had never before seen any such denizens of the sea as these. Their eyes were lidded and winked and winked. They were as wide as they were long and their heads were as big as their bodies. For all the world they resembled sheep and Jan wondered distractedly if they tasted like mutton. Some of this catch was being laid on a miserable peddler's cart, the wheels of which spread out very wide at the top and very narrow at the bottom, giving it a bow-legged appearance. Presently the two who had been loading it were accosted by the master of the fishing vessel who held out his palm for his pay.

  One of the pair was a woman. Her hair was snarled beyond belief and a filthy, scaly neckerchief was swathed about her scrawny neck. Her dress glittered with dried scales which showed up very brightly against the black dirt which smeared the whole, shapeless garment. Her pipestem legs shot up out of hopelessly warped shoes and got no thicker when they became a body. She could have passed through a knothole with ease and, doubtless, such an operation would have taken a lot of the dirt from her. She chose to be niggardly about the price.

  "You soul-stealing lobster!" she shrieked in a cracked ruin of a voice. "You . . ." Jan wanted to stop his ears. "Last time you charge two damins the feesh! This time you charge t'ree damins. We don't have to buy! We don't have to deal with the slimy likes of you! We'll take our trade elsewhere!" Her companion, an incredibly diseased fellow, tried to calm her. The fisherman tried to break in with the explanation- quite obvious- that these fish were especially fine, big ones. She would have nothing of it. Her rage mounted higher and higher, in direct ratio to the humoring it got from the two men. Finally this virago seized one of the fish by the tail and began to lay about her with all her might, screaming the foulest of language the while. Her rage made her blind and she lambasted several of the guards who could not get out of the way fast enough.

  Jan was successful in ducking a swing but he tripped over a bitt and fell to stare up and get a full view of this termagant's ugly face. He recoiled, frozen with revulsion.

  This shrew, this harridan, this screaming unholy catamaran, resembled no one if not his Aunt Ethel!

  He recovered and scrambled back. At a safe distance he peered wonderingly at the woman. The voice tone, now that he listened for it, had a certain timbre; the eyes, the nose, the very ears carried the resemblance. Her build, the way she stood now that she was calming down in the wreckage of her victory, was also similar. And finally, though he could not understand how it could be, he was forced to grant this revolting creature the identity of his aunt. Aunt Ethel, wife to a diseased fish peddler! Aunt Ethel, brawling like a harlot upon the common dock!


  But how on earth did she get there?

  Now that hostilities had ceased and a lower price had been paid, the woman signaled to the man to be off and the two pushed the cart along toward the shoreward end.

  "My darling Daphne," said the fish peddler, "the price we saved won't cover the cost of bandages for my head. By swith, how it rings!"

  "Be quiet, you wretched apology of a man. I'll deal with you later when we get home."

  But Jan had to know! He stepped forward beside the cart. "Aunt Ethel," he said, "how... ?"

  She stared at him angrily and brushed on by just as his guards leaped up to take him again and keep him from communicating with others. She glanced back in high disdain and snorted.

  "Y'see? Y'see, you worm-eaten miscreant? I'm sunk so low that convicts talk to me! Ohhh, you wretch, if you think your head rings now..." And so they passed out of sight just as Boli, much fortified, hove like a barge into view.

  Boli had a fresh company of Marids with him who swiftly and efficiently took Jan in hand.

  "Take care," said Boli. "Your heads answer for it if he gets away."

  A sedan chair was borne to them by four humans and into its cushioned depths sank Boli. He raised his handkerchief and flourished it and the party moved off.

  Dread began to settle heavily over Jan. What had possessed him to first frighten the wits out of a sailor and then upset a whole boatload of guard sailors, to say nothing of almost drowning the port captain, M'Lord Boli? What unplumbed possibilities did this swaggering, brawny body of his contain that he had never before felt? And would he do something the very next minute to make his doom absolutely certain-if it weren't already so?

  He was almost treading on the heels of the last two chair bearers. And suddenly it occurred to him that all he had to do was take a slightly longer step and into the street M'Lord Boli would go, perfumed handkerchief and all. Ah, yes, and just ahead there was a lovely, wide mud puddle where horses had been teth足ered not long before. What a bed for M'Lord Boli that hoof-churned muck would be! Just a slightly longer step and...

  "I won't!" yelled Jan.

  M'Lord turned around in astonishment. "What was that?"

  "Nothing," said the miserable Jan.

  On they marched and finally negotiated the mud puddle. Jan sighed with relief when they got to the far side and on dry pavement once more. He took courage at that. It seemed that a sharp exertion of will power would cause this Tiger to fade away. And God knew that one more misstep would put M'Lord Boli into an even higher howl for his head.

  He took an interest in the town and found that the mixed lot of the population was very, very unbalanced where wealth and position was concerned. Ifrits were to be seen at rare intervals and each time they were being borne in splendid carriages which were invariably driven by humans in livery.

  Too, the silken-robed proprietors of these great stores, when seen standing outside, were all of the Jinn. Although human beings were not without some small finery here and there, not one actually wealthy one was to be found. The police were all Marids, resplendent in green cloaks and towering, conical white hats. Marids did not seem to be servants but monopolized all the minor positions of responsibility.

  Here and there men turned to gaze after the marching guard with curiosity. Sometimes men saluted the port captain and he daintily waved his handkerchief back. Sometimes Marids held up traffic to let the procession through and then glowered ferociously upon the prisoner as he slogged past.

  Once or twice people yelped, "It's Tiger!" And gaped help足lessly until the company was out of sight. Jan recognized them but didn't recognize them. One he knew for sure was a tavern keeper on the waterfront. The other, a buxom female, he knew not at all. He was afraid there were tears in her eyes.

  Far ahead, shimmering in the heat, Jan could see a large square opening out. It was easily a mile on the side and parklike trees enclosed a great lake. Too, there were barracks and a parade ground and, set far back, was a low, domed edifice which was deceptive. It appeared to be a normal building at first, done with the usual swoops and curves. But the closer one got, the bigger it got until, from across the huge square, it had the proportions of a mountain. The dome was seemingly solid gold and the sun on it made a man's eyes sting. The balconies were evidently masses of precious stones-or else they were all on fire. The fountains which geysered so brightly before it went a full hundred feet into the air and even then did not reach a height as great as the top of the steps in front-steps down which a cavalry division could have charged with ease.

  Humans began to be less and less in evidence. This park was evidently the haunt of military men, all of them Marids except the officers who were Ifrits. Their gaudy uniforms fitted them loosely, held close only by sword belts. The men were in scarlet and the officers too, except that the Ifrits had a great, golden bird of prey awing across their breasts and three golden spikes upon their shining helmets.

  Coming away from the palace was a small party of men in azure. They too had golden birds upon their tunics, but from the roll of their walk and the curve of the swords at their sides it was plain that here was a party of naval officers on its way back to the harbor.

  Coming abreast of the group, Jan glanced wonderingly at them. He had not yet gotten used to seeing fangs glittering in each Jinn's face and those fellows looked especially ferocious. It almost star足tled him out of his wits when one, more fearsome than the rest, cried out in a voice which bespoke a mortal wound.

  "Tiger!" cried this Ifrit. And then, tearing his luminous orbs away from the man, he held up an imperious hand. "Stop, I'd speak to your prisoner."

  "Come along!" M'Lord roared at his guard. "Commander, you speak to a royal prisoner. Have a care!"

  But the guard couldn't very well walk straight over a com足mander in the navy and as the commander had stepped in close to Jan, they had to stop. Boli raged.

  "What's this?" said the naval officer. "By the Seven Swirls of the Seven Saffron Devils, Tiger, what are you into now?"

  "Come along!" roared Boli. And to the officer, "Sir, I'll have your sword for this! I tell you he's a royal prisoner and not to be spoken with by anyone. Answer him, prisoner, and I'll rip out your tongue with my bare hands!"

  "Tauten your foul face, lover of slime," said the officer. And to Jan, "Tiger, I told you that if you got into trouble to come to see me. This confounded law which makes it impossible for you to have rank of any kind has got to be changed! You wouldn't revolt if you had any status. What's up?"

  "Damn it, sir!" cried Boli, leaping out of his sedan chair and waving the handkerchief like a battle flag, "get back before I'm forced to order a stronger means!"

  The officer, knowing well he was out of bounds, fell back slowly, looking the while at Jan. "Don't forget, Tiger. If they don't let you go send the word and I'll be up here for you with my bullies if necessary. We haven't forgotten what you did for us on the Isle of Fire."

  But the guard was moving off and Jan was pushed along with them. He was dazed by being known by men he did not know. And suddenly it came to him that now was the time to trip those bearers. Out went his foot but in the nick of time he tripped him足self instead of sending Boli hurtling down those steep steps. "Come along," snarled M'Lord, all unwitting of his close squeak.

  Jan, breathing hard and thankfully, made haste to pick him足self up and follow after.

  They went through two immense doors, guarded on either side by silver beasts which towered fifty feet above them. Like ants they crawled along the polished floor of a hall which could have berthed a frigate with ease.

  Ahead, two doors, so tall that the neck cracked before eyes could see the top of them, barred the way with their black bulk and before them stood a crimson line of Marids, larger than most, and leaning now upon silver pikes.

  The chair bearers stopped. The guard stopped. Boli raised himself importantly. "M'Lord Boli, captain of the port, with a prisoner to be thrown upon royal clemency!"

  "M'Lord Bo
li," said the major of the guard, "enter."

  The great doors swung back without, it seemed, any hand touching them, and between them stalked the company.

  Ahead Jan saw a white throne rearing up thirty feet from the floor, hung with tassels of gold and set with diamonds. Behind it, full fifty feet across, hung the great scarlet flag with its golden bird spread upon it.

  The hall, which would have housed the biggest building in the town, was peopled scatteringly by brightly clothed courtiers and officers.

  The blaze of the throne was such, under the onslaught of the sun which poured through the wall-sized, stained glass windows, that Jan could not see the person in it. But as the procession drew near he was startled to find two lions chained with silver at its base, lions as large as camels who eyed the approaching Boli with wet chops and licked their lips over the prisoner as an afterthought.

  Above them reared the throne itself and Jan, blinking in the blaze, beheld the queen.

  She was taller than these other Ifrits. Taller and uglier. Her arms were matted with black hair which set strangely against the soft silk of her white robe. Her hairy face was a horror, her lips spread apart by upper and lower fangs like tusks. On either side of her jeweled crown were black, pointed ears like funnels. Her nose was mostly nostril. Her eyes were as big as stewpans and in them held a flickering, leaping flame which scorched Jan to his very soul.

  He looked down, unable to stand the blaze. He looked down as he marched nearer behind M'Lord Boli. He looked down as the last two sedan bearers topped the double step which surround足ed the throne. He looked down and saw their heels.

  Suddenly there was nothing he could do about it. As he mount足ed himself he lurched a trifle. With horror he found that he delib足erately caught at the scabbard of the guard on his right and-oh, quite accidentally-lifted it between the legs of the carrier.

  The bearer lurched. His comrade, thrown out of step and balance, lurched. The two men forward, feeling the chair go back, surged ahead just as the two in the rear also strove to stop the sudden motion.