The foliage above their heads was now so thick that hardly any light came through at all. The silence had deepened and, scarcely realizing what they were doing, they all crept as quietly as possible over the moss, gently pushing aside the low branches which increasingly blocked their way.
My Lady Charlotina took Jherek's other arm, murmuring animatedly: "We are like the babes in the bush. Do you think we will be lost, Jherek?"
"It would be wonderful if we were," said the Iron Orchid, but Jherek said nothing. For some reason, the mysterious wood had a healing effect upon his emotions. He felt much calmer; more at ease than he had been for a long while. He wondered why the thought had occurred to him that he was, in this wood, somehow much closer to Mrs. Underwood. He peered through the shadowy gloom, half-expecting to see her in her grey dress and straw hat, standing beside the bole of a cedar or a pine, smiling at him, ready to continue where she had left off with what she termed his "moral education."
Only the Duke of Queens was unaffected by the atmosphere. He paused, tugging at his black beard, and he frowned.
"The beaters must have detected something," he complained. "Why haven't we heard them?"
"The forest does seem to be rather larger than we had at first supposed." Bishop Castle tapped his fingers against the barrel of the deceptor-gun. "Could we be walking in the wrong direction, I wonder?"
Jherek and the two ladies had also stopped. Jherek himself was in something of a trance. It had been in a wood not dissimilar to this one where Mrs. Amelia Underwood had kissed him, admitting, at last, her love for him — and from a wood like this one she had been whisked away, back to her own time. For a moment he considered the notion that Lord Jagged and My Lady Charlotina had planned a surprise for him, but it was obvious from My Lady Charlotina's behaviour that she had known nothing about this wood before they had discovered it. Jherek took a deep breath of the air. The predominant smell, he supposed, was of earth.
"What was that?" The Duke of Queens cupped a hand to his ear. "A harp, was it?"
Bishop Castle had abandoned his hat altogether now. He scratched his red locks, turning this way and that. "I think you're right, my dear Duke. Music, certainly. But it could be birds."
"The song of the rabbit," gasped My Lady Charlotina, romantically clasping her various hands over her multitude of breasts. "To hear it in these woods is to become Primordial Man — experiencing the exact emotions He experienced all those millions of years ago!"
"You are in a lyrical mood indeed, my lady," lazily suggested Bishop Castle, but it was obvious that he, too, was infected by the atmosphere. He raised the hand in which he held the heavy deceptor-gun. "I think the sound came from that direction."
"We must go extremely quietly," said the Iron Orchid, "to be sure not to disturb either the alien or any wildlife." Jherek suspected that she did not care a jot about disturbing the animals — she merely desired the same uninterrupted peace which he had been enjoying. He confirmed her words by means of a grave nod.
A little later they detected a haze of dancing crimson light ahead of them and they proceeded with even greater caution.
And then the music began.
It dawned on Jherek, after a few moments, that this was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.
It was profound, stately and very moving, it hinted at harmonies beyond the harmonies of the physical universe, it spoke of ideals and emotions which were magnificent in their sanity, their intensity and their humanity; it took him through despair and he no longer despaired, through pain and he no longer felt pain, through cynicism and he knew the exhilaration of hope; it showed him what was ugly and it was no longer ugly; he was dragged into the deepest chasms of misery only to be lifted higher and higher until his body, mind and feelings were in perfect balance and he knew an immeasurable ecstasy.
As he listened, Jherek, with the others, moved into the haze of crimson light; their faces were bathed in it, their clothing coloured by it, and they saw that it and the music emanated from a glade. The glade was occupied by a large machine and it was this which was the source of the crimson glow; it stood lopsidedly upon four or five spindly legs, one of which at least was evidently broken. The body was asymmetrical but essentially pear-shaped with little glassy protuberances, like flaws in a piece of ceramic, dotted about all over it; from an octagonal object at the tip, the crimson poured. Near the crippled machine stood or sat seven humanoid beings who were unmistakably space-travellers — they were small, scarcely half Jherek's size, and burly, with heads akin in shape to that of their ship, with one long eye containing three pupils which darted about, sometimes converging, sometimes equidistant, with large, elephantine ears, with bulbous noses. They were bewhiskered, unkempt and dressed in a variety of garments, none of which seemed congruent with another. And it was from these little men that the music came, for they held instruments of unlikely shapes, which they plucked or blew or sawed at with stumpy fingers. At their belts were knives and swords and on their wide, splayed feet were heavy boots; their heads were decorated with caps, scarves or metal helmets, adding to their practical appearance. Jherek found it difficult to equate the exquisite beauty of the music with the ruffians who produced it.
All were affected by the music, listening in awe, unnoticed by the players, as the symphony slowly reached a resolution of apparently clashing themes, ending in a concordance which was at once unimaginably complex and of an absolute simplicity. For a moment there was silence. Jherek realized that his eyes were full of tears and, glancing at the others, he saw that they had all been as moved as he had been. He drew a series of deep breaths, as a man near-drowned when he breaks at last to the surface of the sea, but he could not speak.
The musicians for their part threw aside their instruments and lay back upon the ground roaring with laughter. They giggled, they shrieked, they slapped their sides, they were nearly helpless with mirth — and their laughter was raucous, it was even crude, as if the musicians had been enjoying a sing-song of lewd lyrics rather than playing the most beautiful music in the universe. Gabbling in a harsh, grating language, they whistled parts of the melodies, nudging one another, winking and bursting into fresh fits of merriment, holding their sides and groaning as they shook.
Somewhat put out by this unexpected sequel, the Duke of Queens led his party into the glade. At his appearance the nearest alien looked up, pointed at him, snorted and fell into another series of convulsions.
The Duke, who had always made a fetish of inconvenience, flicked on his wrist translator (which had originally been intended for communicating with Yusharisp's colleague), an ornate, old-fashioned and rather bulky piece of equipment he favoured over simpler forms of translator. When the aliens' outburst had subsided and they sat asprawl, still tittering and giggling a little, the Duke bowed, presenting himself and his companions to them.
"Welcome to our planet, gentlemen. May we congratulate you on a performance which went behind pleasure?"
As he drew closer, Jherek detected an odour he recognized from his sojourn in the 19th century; it was the smell of stale sweat. When one of the aliens stood up at last and came swaggering towards them, the odour grew decidedly stronger.
Grinning, the ruffian scratched himself and offered them a bow which was a mockery of the Duke's and sent his companions into a complaining, painful sequence of snorts and grunts.
"We were just having a bit of fun among ourselves," the alien said, "to pass the time. There seems precious little else to do on this tired old globe of yours."
"Oh, I'm sure we can find ways of amusing you," said My Lady Charlotina. She licked her lips.
"How long have you been here?"
The alien stood on one bandy leg and scratched at his calf. "Not long. Sooner or later we'll have to see about repairing our ship, I suppose." He offered her what seemed to be a crude wink. My Lady Charlotina sucked in her lower lip and sighed, while the Iron Orchid whispered to Jherek:
"What marvellous additions they will make to a menagerie. I believe the Duke realizes it, too. He has first claim, of course. A shame."
"And from what part of the cosmos have you come?" asked Bishop Castle politely.
"Oh, I doubt if you'd recognize the name. I'm not even sure it exists any more. Me and my crew are the last of our species. We're called the Lat. I'm Captain Mubbers."
"And why do you travel the spaces between the stars?" The Iron Orchid exchanged a secret look with My Lady Charlotina. Their eyes sparkled.
"Well, you probably know that this universe is pretty much crapped out now. So we're drifting, really, hoping to find the secret of immortality and get a bit of fun along the way. When that's done — if we ever succeed — we're going to try to escape into another universe not subject to the same conditions."
"A second universe?" said Jherek. "Surely a contradiction?"
"If you like." Captain Mubbers shrugged and yawned.
"The secret of immortality and a bit of fun!" exclaimed the Duke of Queens. "We have both! You must be our guests!"
It was now quite plain to Jherek that the devious Duke intended to add the whole band to his collection. It would be a real feather in his cap to own such splendid musicians, and would more than make up for his gaff involving Yusharisp. However, Captain Mubbers' response was not quite what the Duke seemed to hope for. An expression of low cunning crossed his features and he turned to his crew.
"What do you think, lads? This gentleman says we can stay at his place."
"Well," said one, "if he's really got the secret of immortality…"
"He's not just going to give it up, is he?" said another. "What's in it for him?"
"We assure you, our motives are altruistic," Bishop Castle insisted. "It would give us pleasure to have you as our guests. Say that we enjoy your music. If you play some more for us, we will show our gratitude by making you immortal. We are all immortal, aren't we?" He turned for confirmation to his companions who chorused their agreement.
"Really?" mused Captain Mubbers. He fingered his jaw.
"Really," breathed the Iron Orchid. "Why I myself am some…" She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of My Lady Charlotina's affected lack of interest in her remarks. "Well, quite a few hundred years old," she concluded anticlimatically.
"I have lived two or three thousand years, at least," said the Duke of Queens.
"Don't you get bored?" enquired one of the seated aliens. "That's what we were wondering about."
"Oh, no. No, no, no! We have our pastimes. We create things. We talk. We make love. We invent games to play. Sometimes we'll go to sleep for a few years, maybe longer, if we do tire of what we're doing, but you'd be surprised how swiftly the time goes when you're immortal."
"I'd never even thought of it," said Bishop Castle. "I suppose it's because people have been immortal on this planet for millennia. You get used to it."
"I've a better idea," Captain Mubbers said with a grin. "You will be our guests. We'll take you with us as we continue our ride through the universe. On the way you can tell us the secret of immortality."
Nonplussed, the Duke shuddered. "To space! Our nerves would not bear it, I regret!" He turned with a wan smile to Jherek, still addressing the alien. "I thank you for your invitation, Captain Mubbers, but we have to refuse. Only Mongrove, who seeks discomfort in all forms, would ever contemplate venturing into space."
"No," said My Lady Charlotina sweetly. "It is our duty to entertain you. We shall all go back to Below-the-Lake and have, oh, a party."
"We were having a party when you turned up," Captain Mubbers pointed out. He sniffed and rubbed at his bulbous nose. "Mind you, I think I know what you mean. Eh?" And he sidled up to her and gave her a nudge in the thigh. "We've been a long time in space, lady."
"Oh, you poor things!" said My Lady Charlotina, putting two of her hands on either side of his face and twiddling his moustachios. "Are there no females of your race now?"
"Not so much as a single old slag." He raised his eyes piteously to contemplate the trees. "It's been a very hard trip, you know. Why, I doubt if I've tickled an elbow in four or five years." He darted a chiding glance at his companions who were leering to a man. Then, smirking, he reached up and put his hand on her bottom. "Why don't you and me go inside the ship and talk about this some more?"
"It would be more comfortable if you returned with us," insisted the Duke of Queens. "You could have some food, a rest, a bath…"
"Bath?" Captain Mubbers started in alarm. "Do what? Come off it, Duke. We've still got a long way to go. What are you trying to suggest?"
"I mean that we can supply anything you desire. We could even create females of your own species for you, reproduce exactly your own environment. It is easily within our power."
"Ho!" said Captain Mubbers suspiciously. "I bet!"
"I'd like to know what their game is." One of the crew got up, picking his teeth (which were pointed and yellow.) His three pupils darted this way and that, regarding the five Earth-people. "You're too sodding eager to please, if you ask me."
The Duke made a vague gesture with his hands. "Surely you can't suspect our motives? As guests on our planet, it is your right to be entertained by us."
"Well, you're the first lot who thought that," said the crewmember, putting his hand into his shirt and rubbing his chest. "No, I agree with the skipper. You come with us." The others nodded their approval of this proposal.
"But," the Iron Orchid told them reasonably, "my scrumptious little space-sailors, you fail to understand our absolute loathing of these vacuous reaches. Why, hardly anyone makes the trip to the nearer planets of our own system any more, let alone plunging willy-nilly into that chilly wilderness between the stars!" Her expression softened, she removed the cap of the one who had just approached.
She stroked his bald spot. "It is no longer in our natures to leave the planet. We are set in our ways. We are an old, old race, you see. Space bores us. Other planets irritate and frustrate us because good manners demand that we do not re-model them to our own tastes. What is there for us in your infinity?
After all, save for minor differences, one star looks very much like another."
The Lat snatched his hat from her hand and pulled it down over his head. "Thrills," he said.
"Adventures. Peril. New sensations."
"There are no new sensations, surely?" said Bishop Castle, willing to hear of one if it existed. "Just modifications of the old ones, I'd have thought."
"Well," said Captain Mubbers decisively, stooping to pick up his instrument. "You're coming with us and that's that. I know a trap when I smell one."
The Duke of Queens pursed his lips. "I think it's time we left. Evidently, an impasse…"
"More like a fait accompli, chummy," said the pugnacious alien, pointing his instrument in the Duke's general direction. "Get 'em down and show 'em up!"
By this time the other Lat had picked their horns and strings from the ground.
"I don't follow you?" the Duke told Captain Mubbers. "Get what down? And shove what up?"
"The trousers and the hands in that order," said Captain Mubbers. And he motioned with his instrument.
Bishop Castle laughed. "I believe they are menacing us, you know!"
My Lady Charlotina gave a squeal of delight. The Iron Orchid put fingers to her lips, her eyes widening.
"Are those weapons as well as musical instruments?" asked Jherek with interest.
"Spot on," said Captain Mubbers. "Watch this." He turned away, directing the oddly shaped device at the nearby trees. "Fire," he said.
A howling, burning wind issued from the thing in his hands. It seared through the trees and turned them to smoking ash. It produced a tunnel of brightness through the gloom of the forest; it revealed a plain beyond, and a mountain beyond that. The wind did not stop until it reached the far-away mountain.
The mountain exploded. They heard a faint bang.
"All right?" said Captain Mubbers, turning back to them enquiringly.
His companions smirked. One of them, in a metal helmet, said: "You wouldn't get far, would you, if you tried to run for it?"
"Who would resurrect us?" said Bishop Castle. "How curious? I haven't seen an actual weapon before."
"You intend, then, to kidnap us!" said My Lady Charlotina.
"Mibix unview per?" said Captain Mubbers. "Kroofrudi! Dyew oh tyae, hiu hawtquards!"
In despair, the Duke of Queens had switched off his translator.