The Garments of Caean

The yakusa bonze was gross. The loose gown was open and drawn aside so that he could rest his puffy hands on the pommels of two huge curved swords which were thrust into a sash-like belt, to which also were clipped dozens of appurtenances. Swelling over the belt was a vast belly, corrugated and metal-studded.

A semi-circular plate of gold apparently bisected his brain and jutted out from the skull, each half of which sported its own control turret. The psychological implications of that division intrigued Estru, but he had no time to think about it. He felt only relief when the warrior abbot turned away from them, his attention taken by something else.

A captured Sovyan was being goaded across the dodecahedron by jerking cyborgs. The bonze floated up from his raft and went out to his meet his enemy, drawing the two great swords with a swift, vigorous motion.

His divided brain clearly did not detract from his physical prowess. A normal man, in normal gravity, would have needed two hands to control just one of those unwieldy blades, but the bonze, a sword in each hand, executed a dazzling series of movements, using each weapon to counterbalance the torque of the other. Then the shimmering blades whirled like propellers as he fell to destroying the suit-man, slicing through the metal body with astonishing ease. In less than a minute the Sovyan had been hacked to pieces and his gruesome wreckage drifted through the void.

It was impossible not to feel the tribal energy of the exulting cyborgs as the abbot turned his back on the scene, his twin swords smeared with blood and oil, and again approached the Faraday cage.

In panic Amara and Estru retreated to the far side of their prison. The incredible swordblades flashed, hacking their way through the meshed gridwork. A tumult of Japanese babble burst through the Ziodeans’ earphones the instant the wires were scythed away. Then more of the creatures joined in, tearing the cage apart and reaching for its contents. The hysterical babble became deafening.

Then, at that moment, the whole dodecahedron seemed to implode. A great gap was riven in the side of the building. Shrieking hoarsely, the cyborgs turned to face the new threat.

The bulky shape of the Callan was visible hovering beyond the shattered wall. Driveboats were steering themselves into the dodecahedron, firing on the cyborgs and picking them off in dozens. Captain Wilce’s promised rescue party had arrived at last.

Amara patted her frizzled, purple-dyed hair into place. Though badly shaken, she was rapidly recovering her composure.

‘You certainly took your time,’ she chided in a carefully controlled voice.

Knowing how close a thing it had been, Captain Wilce was not inclined to take the reproof as a joke. ‘It was the best we could do,’ he said gravely. ‘We had some nasty moments. The Sovyans managed to do us a bit of damage, I’m afraid. As a matter of fact the arrival of the cyborgs took them off our backs and enabled us to get to you.’

The explorer ship had withdrawn from Domashnabaza. Through the bridge’s observation dome they could see the ring system a couple of million miles away, arcing through space like a rainbow. Wilce, his back to the view, was stuffing herbs into a smoking tube. ‘We’ve spoiled our welcome all round one way and another, I reckon,’ he said equably. ‘It might even be our brush with the cyborg raft that brought on this onslaught. What are your ideas now, Amara?’

‘We’ll move on,’ she said shortly. ‘We’ve collected enough data here to be going on with. It wouldn’t be very easy getting more, anyway. The defence problem, as you point out, Captain.’

She laughed nervously. As they had left she had seen the cyborgs sacking what might have been a nursery or a hospital.

Estru had been gazing at the rings. He turned to her. ‘Before we move shall I release Verednyev?’

Amara frowned. ‘Eh? What for?’

He shrugged. ‘I presume it was our intention eventually.’

‘Well you presume wrong,’ she snapped. ‘These people are nothing but savages, cyborg and Sovyans alike. We’ve right to collect specimens where it bears on the security of Ziode. I want him for study, do you hear? He stays with us!’ She barely refrained from stamping her foot.

Resigned, Estru shrugged again.

Captain Wilce issued orders. The Callan moved into the interstellar velocity bracket. In minutes they had left behind the tiny, dark, forsaken planetary system where, against all the odds, man had survived, and set themselves to go probing yet farther along the Tzist Arm.

7