HATRED ON KEEMAR
Marlinok, the Jkak’s majordomo, called on Sir John and Alan a days after they had the Sacrament of Schlerik-itata. “Will you be ready,” he asked them, “when the Kymo is at the full, to start on your to Hoormoori to to the Rorka?”
“Are we all to go?” asked Alan.
“But one of you need go,” he answered. “The Rorka will visit Minniviar later, and then the other may make their bows.”
“I am of that,” said Sir John, “for I should like to here in and retirement for a little while. I am to the of my age, and am out with the of the last years.”
“I will go to Hoormoori,” Alan, “I can start at time the Jkak thinks best.”
“He has prepared and for you to take as gifts from the ones,” said Marlinok, “if you will now see Waz-Y-Kjesta all your can be made.”
“I’ll go now,” said Alan.
Alan was going a toward where the air were when he aware of him. He turned—immediately the ceased, and he see no one. Thinking he must be mistaken, and nothing from the Keemarnians, he on his way blithely. The air was warm, and the fresh breeze, with the of flowers, it. Still the with 245regularity; as he hastened, so they quicker; as his died down, so they altogether. Yet he had no of fear, no of evil; the of on Keemar was to imagine. The Keemarnians were of a as different from the earth to which he belonged, as he was from Heaven! He passed fields, with and daisies. Friendly the in enjoyment. They did not as he near, but only their heads, and looked at him out of their liquid with and friendliness. A pig in a as she her young; a brayed; a of were the while their near them. He saw animals too. There was the of the deer family, a creature, the colour of a Scottish stag, and its in miniature, but with none of its brother’s timidity. All the animals on Keemar were of a smaller than those he had been to. The were smaller then the little Jerseys so valued in England. He had and dogs, and in this world, and the were all on a smaller scale. The Jkak had a dog—a Borzoi, Alan would have called it, yet it was no than a small Irish terrier; but enough, its was not by its minuteness. So Alan on. The way was to him, but he was the of the scene, and he his excellent of would sooner or later lead him to Y-Kjesta. Again the time with his own, and for companionship, he into the of a tree, and to a shy, but stranger. A second passed. The had ceased—then came a rustling, and the of Kulmervan the Student appeared over a bush. Silently he came forward, and until he was on a level with Alan.
“Hullo!” said Alan amiably. “Where are you going, Kulmervan?”
The was magical! Kulmervan jumped as 246though he had been struck, and his whitened. He silent. “I’m going to see Waz-Y-Kjesta,” on Alan. “Are you my way?”
Kulmervan did not reply, but a light in his eyes, and his mouth twitched.
“What’s the matter?” asked Alan curiously.
Suddenly Kulmervan spoke, and there was a of in his tones. “Why did you come here, you strangers? I was happy until you came. I was contented. You have me want—want the unknown. You have my and it with that I cannot yet fathom. Why have you come to up among a happy and race?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alan, “I have done nothing.”
“You’ve done everything. You to your to the level of Chlorie, our Ipso-Rorka. You put about her into my head. Oh—” as Alan would have in—“I read your thoughts, it was easy, my friend. You to think of her as a woman—even your woman. It was an impertinence, I tell you. I love Chlorie with my whole soul, and Mitzor the Mighty, I’ll her away into some off land, she can look with a on a man, not only of another world, but a man of a nature than our own.”
Kulmervan was when he finished, for his had come thick and fast, over themselves in his great excitement. Alan was speechless, and looked as he felt, and at ease. “Why your very proves guilt,” Kulmervan.
“Why should I not love Chlorie?” Alan, “Why should my love for her us?”
“Because, my stranger, I am a Prince of the Rorka’s House. I am not only Kulmervan the Student; but Taz-Ak of the House of Pluthoz. Why else would Chlorie have my party—why else come to the of a student? There are but four 247Keemarnians that Chlorie can marry, and I rank second.”
Alan at the time why the Princess should come in so natural a manner to the Student’s reception. He at the time at her with Kulmervan. She had his hand, into his eyes, and had him more than once with a dance.
But Alan, too, was in love. Idiotically, in love with a woman who had not to her to his, at his presentation. His at the of the touch of her as he them to his lips. He loved her, and in that moment was a to overcome all obstacles, and or no princess, to win her. But he too that in this land of Keemar an had come upon him, and the Curse of Death had it. He the and of their Murdoch had to this land.
“I’ve spoken to your Ipso-Rorka only once,” said he. “The night of your party. She has called on my uncle and Mavis. Mavis has been out with her times. But I, unfortunately, have missed her each time. Surely you are not I—”
“Because you love her? I am,” said Kulmervan thickly, “and I say this—if you so much as to your to her, if you to address her, I’ll make you for it—aye, though I also for it,” and with that he on his and walked away.
Alan was very about this meeting, and to tell the of it to Waz-Y-Kjesta,—yet the he had for Chlorie was not to be spoken of, or about from man to man. No, he would keep it to himself, and trust to time and common to Kulmervan of his hatred.
He walked on, and already see the air in the distance, above their houses. 248The little at right angles—there was a descent, and rose at either to a of six or seven feet, while the of the trees met in the middle and a arch. The banks were with flowers, and the sweet on the air. Again the narrow path to the right, and Alan it, there almost at his feet, across almost the full of the path, a lion, full grown, with his in the breeze. Alan stopped suddenly, and his quickly. The lion’s were closed—he was sleeping.
The Englishman was almost to move the should upon him and him. He looked to the right, the of a tree low over the path. He up the bank, and with one of it, and up to a branch.
He was safe—but the had the lion, who rose up and with a low and the tree.
It was an position to be in—the tree was very thin, and and and ominously. Still the King of Beasts underneath. Alan the on his as the and bent, yet there was no other to which he move. Still the animal near, his no at the noise he heard, and waiting to see what had it.
The minutes by—the branch was perceptibly—he already see the white of the where the branch was away from the parent trunk. There was no one in sight, and still the lion walked to and fro.
The Kymo was rapidly. It was already low on the horizon, and Alan he had been about two English hours in his position. He saw a branch above his head, and he his way along to see if he in any way it. Carefully he went—slowly—suddenly with a 249and a crash the branch gave way, and Alan himself being to the ground.
The was not great, and he in the centre of some sweet-smelling, soft bushes. He was dazed, and when the lion would pounce. He he was powerless to help himself. He the pad, pad, of its feet; he the of its breath—then the thing was upon him. He his and waited.—Nothing but the of the wild beast, and a as it the stranger.
Alan opened his eyes. The animal was on its him, and he there was in the beast’s as it him. He moved slightly—still the motionless. He himself up from the and down. He he would have to the inevitable.
Suddenly a voice him, and he saw Waz-Y-Kjesta the in the lane. “Stand back,” he cried. “There’s a lion here—he may spring!” But the Waz came on fearlessly. Alan was petrified, his was parched, no came from his lips. He the Waz in horror.
The Keemarnian was smiling. “Where have you been, my friend? You are late—very late. I you had missed your way, so I came to you.” He was now three of the lion. “What is the matter? Why are you so grave? Has you?”
Alan pointed to the beast. His hand was shaking. Surely the must end soon, the lion spring, and the play.
“Why Maquer,” said the Waz affectionately, “what are you doing here? You visit us, you know.”
The lion moved toward him, and his great against the Keemarnian’s leg, while Y-Kjesta talked to him and him.
“He’s then?” Alan with a of relief. “You know him?”
“No, my friend. I’ve this Maquer before—they in places.”
250“But he is so friendly.”
“All are here, my Alan. What—would Maquer have you on your Earth?”
And Alan laughingly told of his at the lion. He had learnt one more truth about Keemar—there were no animals upon it. Of a truth, it was a perfect land!
Waz-Y-Kjesta was at his friend’s story, and together they toward the air birds. The Keemarnian were creations. White and gold, they were like swans, with outspread, in the light. They were of a mixture of and metal, and for passengers, as well as the Waz in command, and a staff of ten. Although not as big as the ill-fated Argenta, the Keemarnian was of a speed nearly thrice as great.
“This is the Chlorie,” said Y-Kjesta, “and our bird. The Jkak has orders that you are to choose your own vessel, so you would like to see over some others?”
“No,” said Alan, looking at the hangings, and in them the of his love’s eyes. “No, this one will do beautifully.” And the Waz was by the easy way in which his friend was pleased. He little that it was the name of the vessel—the Chlorie—that him. And in the of it Alan to read his fate.
“We’ll go for a cruise,” said the Waz, “and go to the landing stage Minniviar.”
There was not a cloud in the sky, and the from the sun’s was pleasant.
“I can’t how you so from the sun, your Kymo,” said Alan. “Let me see, you must be at least five times away from the sun than we were on our earth, yet of your light and being to about one twenty-fifth of our supply, you appear to to the same degree.”
“Ah, my friend, that is easy to explain. Dark clouds our globe—”
251“Yes, of vapour,” Alan.
“Well—vapour. These our world. They are with a of gas, I think you would call it. Well, this as a to the sun’s rays. It the to our but their withdrawal. Therefore it the to enter, but its escape.”
“Well?”
“Consequently we the maximum of light, and an temperature.”
“Do you then, have no here?”
“Seasons?”
“Yes, Spring or Winter.”
“Oh yes, it is cold at the poles—very cold, but as we nearer to the it warmer, and varies. You see, my Alan, our world from yours. The of is almost to our orbit, we are not to as you were in Quilphis.”
“I didn’t know that before.”
“We too, are more at each end—indeed, there are many our world that is, and yours that was.”
“Do you have rain here?”
“Yes, my Alan. How else would plants live and thrive? But again, we do not from excesses.”
“But don’t you have that last from six to seven weeks? Surely those are excesses.”
“Hurricanes? I do not know the word.”
“Hurricanes—winds—tornadoes.”
“Why they affect only the regions, and nothing there.”
“Well,” laughed Alan “I think your world is a great on ours.”
The they passed on this was very varied, but very to the world he at its best. Here he he was in the of Scotland with its and and torrents. There in Southern France with its to the river’s edge. Again, the of 252suggested the tropics, and the next moment they were over great arms of a sea, that were of the of Norway.
They at last, and to the Jkak to him farewell. There a Alan.
“My son,” said the Jkak. “Our Ipso-Rorka has to travel in the Chlorie to Hoormoori. She to her father’s without any more delay. Taz-Ak Kulmervan has permission from his to her on her journey. But you need have no fear, my Alan. I you will see the Princess. She will keep the of her apartments, and will be by her maid.”
Alan distressed. Should he tell the Jkak of his with Kulmervan? Had he his and in the old man, he would have saved himself and Chlorie from much suffering. As it was—well, who can tell which is always the right to take? Errors are made, and paid for in suffering, in a Perfect World.
“Is it far, my Jkak, to Hoormoori?”
“Forty Kymos will take you there.”
“Forty Kymos—about twenty of our earth days! It is a long way then?”
“Ah, my friend, you have no idea of the size of our planet.”
“And yet you are all one nation—with the same and religion and speech! It is hard to comprehend, my Jkak, for at home on our little islands, we were of four races.”
“The Ipso-Rorka will the Chlorie immediately,” said the Jkak. “Now Mitzor be with you. Farewell.”
There was no of the Princess when Alan the ship, neither was Kulmervan to be seen, but he was to Waiko on the deck. He gave Alan a of as he passed, but did not or offer any greeting.
“Don’t you know Waiko?” asked Y-Kjesta in some surprise.
253“Why of course. I met him at Kulmervan’s party.”
“Then why he not and you according to Keemarnian custom? You have with him—”
“Please, Y-Kjesta, don’t say any more. I—I think I understand, and it’s my fault. Let it pass.”
“As you will, my Alan.” The Chlorie rose, over the marble of Minniviar, then her nose, swiftly.
The Princess in her cabin, her doors were closed, and the her shuttered.
“Ought I to pay my respects to the Ipso-Rorka?” asked Alan.
Waz-Y-Kjesta looked at him in horror. “Nay, my friend. It is not to address our Ipso-Rorka unless she you first. She has orders that she is not to be disturbed.”
So! Kulmervan had his work of revenge. Darkness fell, and Alan retired to his little cabin. There were on board, ten in all, and the whole place was in stillness. All the same he very restless—the four of Jupiter were brightly; they were now over a sea, and the were playing on the waters. He rose, himself, and was about to his cabin, when he a movement outside. His were quickened, he for the time since his entrance into this new world, a of danger.
In a second his mind was up—quickly he a on his and it over with rugs: in the semi-darkness it almost the of a body. The door softly, and Alan the of a curtain. Softly the door opened, until it was just wide to permit the passage of a man’s body. Alan through the opening and saw that it was Kulmervan who had entered.
The Keemarnian over to the and touched the coverlet. “He’s asleep,” he 254in his own language, and Waiko entered softly. “Have you the spray?”
“Yes, my Kulmervan—but is it necessary? I’m afraid—”
“Fool,” Kulmervan. “The spray.”
Waiko him a long piece of tubing, the end of which was to a small bulb. Kulmervan the end on the bed—there was a sound, and the room sweet with a scent.
“Quick,” Kulmervan to his accomplice, “hasten, the us,” and the two left the the door them.
The air was already heavy, and Alan a over him. With a he opened the window and out. It was a the and the fresh air. Alan his and his swim, but the pure night air conquered, and the little was soon free of its poison.
Silently Alan sat until the broke, over the problem that had presented itself to him. He had an enemy, it is true, but an enemy who would stop at nothing in order to his ends. He what the powerful would have had upon him. In a land where there was no death, life be taken? What would have to him had he them? He was to ask Waz-Y-Kjesta at the opportunity. Suddenly from without a voice him. It was the Waz.
“How did you sleep, my friend?” and he entered the cabin.
“Very well indeed,” said Alan, lying.
“I slept badly, my Alan. I had of you. I saw you lying—serquor—oh!”
“What is serquor?”
“It is the thing that us on Keemar, my friend. Seldom it happens—but once in a lifetime. The stiffens, sleep comes from which one awakens. Life is, to all and 255purposes, extinct. Yet the not melt into nothingness, as at the Sacrament of Schlerik-itata. It on earth, cut off from the living, cut off from those already in glory,—useless, desolate, alone.”
“What it?” asked Alan eagerly.
“Sometimes a or a fall—or it can be produced by morka, a used in the of our silks. The wear over their mouths when using it, and are very careful. Never have I such an accident to occur, but it could. It was thus I of you, my Alan.”
Alan smiled. He had come across as proofs of as in the old world spirits. Whatever he Waz-Y-Kjesta was his friend. “Perhaps I am in danger, my friend,” said he. “If so can I count on you?”
“My Alan, I would for you,” he answered fervently. And Alan he spoke truly.
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