To Die In Italbar

He realized then that he was screaming too; and he continued to, until Shind pulled him out. Then blackness, like lightning, struck him.

The world called Cleech fell away at his back. Within a matter of hours, he would be outside that small system and able to enter subspace. He turned from the console and fetched a long, slim cigar from a supply he had taken from the dead man's counter, there in the dead men's space port.

It had been much faster this time, had gone through a larger area almost immediately. What had it been? He had not even recognized the condition. Could it be that he had somehow become a breeding place for new diseases?

He lit the cigar and smiled.

His tongue was black and the sclerae of his eyes had grown yellowish. Very little healthy tissue was now visible upon him. He had become a discolored mass of sores and swellings.

He chuckled and puffed smoke until his eyes fell upon his reflection in the dampened screen to his left.

Then he stopped chuckling and the smile went away. He put the cigar aside and leaned forward, studying his face. It was the first time he had seen it since-- How long ago? Where? Italbar, of course. Where it had all started.

He regarded the lines, the places that looked like burns, the dark ridges that crossed the cheeks.

Something inside him chose, at that moment, to close its fingers about his stomach and squeeze.

He turned away from the screen, his breath quickening. Suddenly, he found that he was panting. His hands began to tremble.

My appearance need not be so extreme to achieve the desired effect, he decided. Three weeks in sub before I reach Summit. Might as well go into remission and clean up a bit.

He located the cigar and continued to puff on it. He placed his left hand where it was out of sight. He did not look back at the screen.

After he had entered hd, he turned on the forward screen and regarded stars. Centered about a point directly before him, they moved in long, burning spirals, some clockwise, some counterclockwise. He hung there, absolutely still, and for a time he regarded the universe as it moved about him.

Then he reclined the seat, closed his eyes, folded his arms and followed the long trail he had not taken since before Italbar.

_______________

... Walking, quickly, through the mists. Blue, blue, blue. Blue flowers, like the heads of serpents. A more exotic perfume in the air. Blue moon above, blue vines across the shallow stairs.

Up into the garden ...

Blue insects swarmed about him, and as he gestured to brush them away he saw his hand.

Something is wrong, he decided. Whenever I come to this place I am whole again.

He advanced into the garden and felt a subtle change, though there was no specific thing to which he could attribute it.

He cast his eyes upward, but there was only the motionless 'noon.

He listened, but there were no birdsongs.

The mists snaked about his ankles. The first glittering stone, when he came upon it, still cast its prisms. The butterflies, though, were missing. Instead, it was partly covered by a webwork within which dozens of fat blue caterpillars hung suspended, turning, contracting into U's and straightening again, slowly. Beneath knobbed horns, their faceted eyes blazed like sapphire chips. As he watched, they all contrived to turn in his direction and raise their heads.

He did not look upon the other stones as he passed them, but pressed forward with increasing distress, seeking a certain high stand of shrubbery.

When he located it, he hurried in that direction; and as always, the light faded at his approach. He saw then the summerhouse.

It stood as he had never seen it before. Shaded, peaceful, cool, it had always been. Now, however, each stone was clearly delineated, burning with a cold blue light. Inside, there was absolute blackness.

He halted. He succumbed to a chill that gave way to a shudder.

What is it that is wrong? he asked himself. It has never been this way before. Could she be angry with me? Why? Perhaps I should not enter. Perhaps I should wait here until it is time to go back. Or perhaps I should return immediately. There is an electrical quality to the air. Like just before a storm ...

He stood there, watching, waiting. Nothing occurred within the stillness.

The tingling sensation increased. The back of his neck began to throb, then his hands and feet.

He decided to depart, discovered that he could not move.

The throbbing spread throughout his entire body.

He felt an urge to move forward. It was not a desire, but a compulsion. Throbbing, he moved ahead once more.

When he entered, his feelings were not as they had been on prior occasions in the place. This time he hoped that he would not even glimpse a smile, a fluttering eyelid, an earlobe, a strand of hair, the sheen of blue moonbeams upon a restless forearm or shoulder. This time he was afraid to see anything of her. This time, he hoped she was not present.

He moved to the stone bench that ran along the wall, seated himself upon it.

"_Dra_ Heidel von Hymack," came the words, and they made him want to rise and flee, but he could not move. They were more sibilant than usual, and their breath came cold upon his cheek. He kept his face averted.

"Why do you not turn and look at me, _Dra_ von Hymack? You have always desired this in the past."

He said nothing. She was the same--yet different. Everything had been altered.

"_Dra_ von Hymack, you do not turn and you do not answer me. What is the matter?"

"Lady--"

"Then be unchivalrous. it is enough that you have come home, at last."

"I do not understand."

"You have finally done the correct thing. Now the stars have turned in their courses and the seas have come unchained."

It is a lovely voice, he decided. More so than before. It was the sudden alteration that startled me. The garden is prettier too.

"You have noticed the changes and you approve. That is good. Tell me what you think of your new strength."

"I like it. Men are worthless and they deserve to die. If my power were greater, more of them would."

"Oh, it shall be! Believe me. Soon you will be able to emanate spores that will slay across hundreds of kilometers. And there will come a day when you will need but set foot upon a world to kill everything which dwells there."

"it is only the people that I care about. It was they who hurt me. It is man who is unthinking and brutal. The other races, the other life forms--they do not disturb me."

"Ah, but if you would serve me fully--as you have chosen to do--then all of life is become your enemy."

"I would not go that far, Lady. For it was not all of life that attacked me."

"But to reach the guilty, you must strike among the i

"I can avoid the non-human worlds."

"Very well. For a time, perhaps. Are you still happiest of all when you are here, with me?"

"Yes, Myra-o--"

"Do not barbarize my name. Speak it as it should be spoken--A rym-o-myra--when it must be spoken at all."

"Lady, I apologize. I had thought it otherwise."

"Cease thinking. Simply do as I tell you."

"Of course."

"With your new power, which grows in you by the day, you have the best of both worlds. it is only while you are here that your sleeping body does not bear all the marks of your power. it snores quietly in that little shell you use to cross between the worlds. When you awaken there, you will bear greater strengths and deeper marks than any you have thus far known."

"Why is this? I can recall when it was the other way about."

"It is because you have chosen to act as a man no more, but as a god, that godlike strengths have been granted you."

"I had thought that you might cleanse me for a time, for I discover that I grow increasingly ugly."