He awoke to the sound of soft footsteps approaching him along the lake sh.o.r.e. Without rising, he slid his hand under the furs over him and clasped the hilt of his sword. He lay motionless as the footsteps continued to approach, then stopped. In the silence Blade heard the faint whisper of the wind, the even fainter whisper of breathing close at hand, then a small, nervous laugh. He turned his head in the direction of the sound, and saw Silora.

She had obviously been swimming in the lake, and had not bothered to dress again. Beads of water glistened like jewels on her skin. The moonlight silvered one whole side of her body from forehead to ankle. Her hair flowed in a dark straight cascade down her bare back.

She was utterly beautiful standing there, and Blade felt desire springing to life in him. It was a desire that Silora obviously shared, a desire to which she was ready to respond. Their eyes met and she smiled. It was a somewhat uncertain smile, reminding Blade how much of Silora's experience of s.e.x had been rather ugly. He would have to be more than usually gentle with her.

Before Blade could move an inch Silora came over to him and knelt down beside him. She bowed her head over Blade's middle, then shook it until her hair was flowing down over her shoulders and b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It flowed on down over Blade's genitals, caressing them with a thousand tiny soft delicate brushes. Then Silora began to slowly sway back and forth from the waist. The movement sent exciting little shudders through the taut flesh of her small, perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It also drew her hair back and forth across Blade, which was far more exciting. His desire rose further, and his body began to show it. He would not have believed that what Silora was doing could draw such a response from him, no matter how much skill a woman put into it. But he couldn't deny that she was doing it.

Blade had not wanted to move for fear of alarming the woman. Now he could not have moved if he had wanted to. His body would not obey his brain any more. It would obey only its own desperate desire to receive more of the caresses of Silora's hair.

How long she could have gone on this way Blade never knew. He did know that he was about to throw caution to the winds and reach out for her when she took the next step herself. It was a short step, and it left her astride his body. Then she gently lowered herself onto him, taking the whole of his erection into herself so slowly that she seemed to be wanting to test his ma.s.sive member an inch at a time. Blade saw her eyes widen and the muscles of her throat tighten as he entered her, and the rise and fall of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s quickened. Her nipples were small but very distinct, dark brown, and now standing out hard and surprisingly long.

Then Silora closed her eyes and began to rock back and forth and twist around and around with Blade inside her. She moved slowly at first, without any pattern, feeling her way along. Then she found a pattern that pleased her, and she began to move faster.

Blade did not move. A move would no longer frighten Silora away-she wouldn't notice. But on top of what he was already getting Blade knew any movement of his own might push him to climax and beyond. He didn't want that now, not with this woman. With this woman it was more important than ever before to match his pace to hers, however hard he had to fight for it, whatever he had to do to manage it. He knew as clearly as if it was written across the night sky above that she must reach her peak first. That would set his lovemaking apart from anything she had ever experienced before, and Blade wanted to be certain of doing that. It was no longer just a question of getting out of her all the information the people so badly needed. It was a matter of kindness and decency on his part toward a woman who had been hurt in so many ugly ways.

Silora kept on. Her eyes were no longer wide, but shut tight, and a tear traced a path down each cheek. The water was drying off her now, but beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead and neck and b.r.e.a.s.t.s as she moved. Her mouth tightened into a line that looked more grim than ecstatic. Blade was beginning to wonder if she was somehow beyond reaching a climax, if the damage over the years hadn't been too great. But he didn't know, he couldn't know, he had to hold on. He had to hold on, and if holding on meant dying he would die and there was an end to the matter.

A moment later Silora's mouth opened, but not to smile. She let out a wide-mouthed, almost terrifying yell, that went floating away across the lake into the silent darkness of the plain. There was pain in that yell-real pain-but also triumph, joy, surprise-all mixed together in a terrible, wonderful confusion. The tears turned from a trickle into a flood, sweat broke out all over her body, her pelvic muscles jerked in a frantic rhythm, her body arched and bowed and twisted. Then she started sagging forward, eyes glazed. If she had to save both her life and Blade's by a single extra movement, they would both have died on the spot.

Blade's own moment arrived as Silora sagged forward onto his chest. He clutched at her until his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her thighs and b.u.t.tocks and twisted his own hips around as his terribly pent-up beat jetted upward into her. As that jetting came to an end Silora collapsed onto him, as boneless as a jellyfish and for the moment as helpless as one cast up on the beach after a storm. Blade did not need to disturb her and wouldn't have done so even if he had needed to.

How much time pa.s.sed before Silora's eyes flickered open, Blade didn't know or care. The same warm bath of satisfied desire was washing over both of them. But eventually he found her dark eyes staring into his, and her lips curling in another smile. Then she raised herself on her elbows and looked down the length of his body, then the length of hers.

"What are you looking for, Silora?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. The shtafari-"

"-are not here. I am not one of them, not a Princ.i.p.al Technician of War, not even a Very Unimportant Technician of War!"

For some reason his feeble joke made her giggle and then laugh long and loud. "No, you are not anything of that sort," she said, after catching her breath. "I think it is time we found out more about what we really are, as you said. I do not know for certain what you will do with what you learn, Mazda. But I am as certain as I need to be that you will not use it to hurt me or the Peace Lords. That is something new for me. Just how new, perhaps you will understand in time."

Chapter 23.

They stayed in their Adam-and-Eve home by the little lake for several more days. By the end of that time Blade understood clearly why a bout of healthy lovemaking was something so rare and wonderful for Silora. He also knew nearly everything he needed to know about the Looters in order to continue the people's fight against them. He did not know enough to guarantee victory, but no general ever knew that much. So Blade did not worry. He and Silora would do their best.

To start with, there were two different groups among the Looters: the shtafari-which meant "mercenaries"-and the Peace Lords. Most definitely they were not on good terms. Silora made it clear that the two groups in Konis got along about as well as sheep and wolves.

The Looters could indeed travel between dimensions, and in fact had been doing so for nearly a century. That was one of the causes of their present problems. When Blade heard this, he could not quite manage to stay seated or keep his face straight. Eventually he had to tell Silora his full story, swearing her to secrecy beforehand.

"Do you think that the people of Konis have ever reached your-your England on earth, you call it?"

Blade shook his head. "Not with their war machines. If they did, they would be discovered quickly. And most of them would not get back to Konis."

"That is likely, from what you tell me. But for the moment the mercenaries are here in Tharn. If they are to be fought, it must be here."

"Too true, unfortunately."

Konis was, or had been, a nation of the world in Silora's "Home Dimension." It was a world with a history as long and complex as earth's. But most of that history had nothing to do with what Blade faced in Tharn now. The part that did began only about a century before, with a full-scale global atomic war.

"No one knows any more what caused it. Most of those who did were killed in the war. But the principle of travel among the dimensions was discovered in Konis about then. Perhaps some of the nations that were our enemies got word of the discovery and decided to try to destroy us before we gained too great an advantage over them."

"Possibly." It was a sobering thought for Blade. What would England's enemies say if they knew about Project Dimension X? What would even her friends say-and do?

In any case, Konis won the war, as much as such a war can ever be won. It was left as the only relic of civilization in a world rapidly reverting to wilderness inhabited by savages.

Over two generations, Konis came to have only two groups that wielded real power. There were the scientists and learned people in general, the Peace Lords. They were busy trying to recover lost knowledge, and also kept control of the process of interdimensional travel.

Then there were the mercenaries, the formidable warriors who held the line against the barbarians and even extended the frontiers of Konis from time to time. As formidable as they were in war, the Peace Lords held them in contempt and showed it.

"That was a mistake," said Blade.

"It was," said Silora grimly. "Even some of the Peace Lords themselves realized it, my parents among them. They tried to change the minds of their fellow Peace Lords. Then when that failed, they joined the mercenaries in a rebellion. They thought it was only justice. I think what they really hoped was that it would be easier for them if someone else took over and ruled Konis. They were sick and tired of endless work that produced nothing."

The mercenaries were of course only too glad to take over Konis and rule it according to their own notions. The Peace Lords soon found that one of those notions was treating all nonmercenaries as virtual slaves, particularly the women. But that was only the beginning.

"They had defeated and driven back most of the barbarian peoples on the frontiers by then. So they thought-why not use the dimension door to go raiding in other dimensions? They dreamed of more war and killing and loot and slaves they could keep themselves or sell in Konis to make people grateful to them."

So the Looters were born. Frightened Peace Lords built a dimension door in the heart of the mercenary city. Then the mercenaries took the machines they had been using to fight the barbarians and went off to other dimensions in them, to kill and destroy and loot.

"Of course it wasn't quite that simple, or I wouldn't be here now and you and your people would mostly be dead. The mercenaries had been fighting n.o.body but barbarians for so long that they had lost the knowledge of how to use many of the weapons and machines they had. Also, some of the machines themselves were only powerful enough to fight against people who could not really fight back. I think of the ones with the purple rays, for example."

So the mercenaries needed the help of the Peace Lords after all, to program and fight their machines. This meant that each expedition of Looters that traveled out from Konis through the dimension door into the unknown contained two groups who hated and distrusted each other. The mercenaries needed the Peace Lords and the Peace Lords usually had to leave hostages behind. So most of the time there was peace, at least on the surface.

But the Peace Lords seldom gave the mercenaries the best advice on tactics, or did the best possible job in programming the computers of the war machines. Some committed open acts of sabotage. The boldest of the Peace Lords plotted to find chances of running away entirely.

"For us, even exile in another dimension sometimes seemed better than living in Konis under the rule of the mercenaries. But the mercenaries knew this as well as we did. They did not trust us in positions where we could escape easily. Not many Peace Lords got into my position-one of three people on a fighting expedition in an almost new dimension."

This was not surprising, considering how Silora convinced the mercenaries that she could be trusted. She convinced a succession of them that she had such an insatiable appet.i.te for the most grisly s.e.xual perversions that she would never run away from anyone who would give her what she needed. That succession ran from the Princ.i.p.al Technician of War himself down to the two other men in the crew of the command machine. Her painfully acquired skill in unarmed combat further convinced the mercenaries that she had accepted their values and way of life.

Neither Silora's tale nor that of her people was a very pretty one. But when he heard it, Blade had more hope than before of saving the people of Tharn, which was what mattered here and now.

Still- "Silora, I think I see a way of fighting the-the next expedition from Konis, when it arrives. But I need to know even more about the way that expedition will move and fight. Can you tell me? Will you tell me?"

"How can I do otherwise?" asked Silora simply. "I would do it even if I could do otherwise. I would not speak before, because I thought you were another barbarian warrior who had enslaved a civilized people.

"It has been a dream among the Peace Lords for many years that the mercenaries would one day meet a people who could face them in war. You are only one man, but you are so terrible in war that you are almost an army by yourself. You are also very-very worthy-in things other than war. Anything I know, you will know too."

It took quite a while for Silora to keep her promise. In spite of her intelligence, courage, and skill, she was not really a military expert. Blade had to draw much of her knowledge of Looter strategy, tactics, and weaponry out of her in bits and pieces. But it did come out.

When they were finished at last, Blade was tempted to take another day off for celebration and spend it swimming, lovemaking, and lying in the sun. But he did not know how much time they might have before the Looters arrived in Tharn in swarms. He had to a.s.sume that every day was precious.

So a week after landing by the lake, Blade and Silora took off again, heading west at full speed toward the lands of the people.

They arrived only a day after the triumphant return of the fighting expedition. Everyone in the New City was beginning to get worried over Mazda's "disappearance." He had flown off into the sky with a Looter prisoner and superbomb. Perhaps the prisoner had somehow slain Mazda and was on the way to drop the bomb on the people?

Blade's return put at least those fears to rest. But there were mutterings when Mazda and King Rikard gave orders for the Looter woman to be treated as an honored guest instead of locked up and tortured as an enemy prisoner.

Blade got even louder and more persistent mutterings from his own son when they discussed plans for the rest of what now both called the Looter War.

"The Looters make camp, as a rule, in three widely separated sections. One section is the tents of the mercenaries. Silora expects that when the Looters come again from Konis to Tharn, they will bring several thousand mercenaries, their soldiers, as well as the various machines. Another is the tents of the Peace Lords, well-guarded so they cannot get out to attack either the mercenaries or the war machines. The third is all the machines except a few that patrol around the camps. The machines must be our number-one target. A few Looters can do more damage with many machines than many Looters can do with a few machines. Also, it is easier for them to replace men, up to a point, than to replace machines."

"I see. What you wish to do is drop the captured superbomb on the machines, and then fight the living Looters as we fought the Pethcines."

"That's about it."

"What makes you think they will camp as Silora says they have done before?"

"They have no way of knowing that we have a superbomb. Also, their war leaders apparently do not like to make changes in the way they fight. That is a habit I have seen in many war leaders during my travels. It is always a bad habit."

"I can see why it would be one," said King Rikard. "Very well, you drop a bomb on the Looter camp and destroy most of their machines. How will you know when the Looters arrive and where they are?"

"Silora has shown me--"

"You trust Silora that much?" Father and son looked at each other sharply. Their stares collided with an almost audible crunch.

"So far I have seen no reason not to trust her," said Blade in a carefully level voice. "Do you see any reason to disagree with me on this? If so, speak out now, in private. Let us settle this between us before we take our plans before the council. There is already enough muttering about Silora and me without you adding to it."

"That is true," said Rikard slowly. It was the slowness of a man weighing his words very carefully, not the slowness of a man reluctant or disagreeing. "But I will say this-neither of us should be prepared to risk the whole people, everything, on what she says. Is that not so?"

Blade had to nod. "What are you thinking of, exactly?"

"I cannot know that until you finish explaining your plans, father. So go on, and I will not raise the matter of Silora again."

The Looter war machines were equipped with radio receivers and direction-finding gear that could give warning of the arrival of a Looter force in Tharn and the course to follow to reach it. Silora knew how to operate this equipment, and had showed Blade the same.

"With these devices, I will know when the Looters arrive and where they are. Silora and I will fly directly to the Looter camp. On the way she will prepare the superbomb to explode. We will sneak in low in the darkness, and drop the bomb on the Looter machines. This should destroy most of them."

"And if it does not?"

"Then obviously we must be ready. But if only a few war machines survive, it will not be too serious. We have four of the Looter machines ourselves, and more of our people can learn to fly them. The Looters will not know that our rays do not work. They will think we can use our machines against their soldiers if they use theirs against ours. Their mercenaries go into battle against people like us wearing much metal, so they also would be afraid of the purple rays.

"I see," said the king. "And with the machines destroyed, the Looters will be easy to fight?"

Blade shook his head. "There may be several thousand of them. They are well-trained and they will fight bravely. They have large pellet-throwers that can match the range of our bows and small dart-throwers that are deadly at short ranges. They also have helmets, armor, and swords and knives they can use well. If several thousand of them come, there will be a greater battle than was ever fought against the Pethcines, let no one doubt that. But I think we can win if we prepare and equip ourselves properly. It will help greatly that the explosive bombs are now ready."

It was nearly dawn before Blade finished explaining to his son what the people would have to be ready to do in the battle against the Looters. King Rikard seemed to have no more doubts about Silora's trustworthiness. The questions he asked were those of a warrior taking the measure of an enemy and a leader responsible for his followers. That was a great relief to Blade.

Finally, as the eastern sky began to turn pale, King Rikard stood up and drained the last of the great leather jug of beer that had stood beside him through the night.

"Father, I will speak for all of your plans and schemes and say nothing against Silora if you will speak for one plan of mine."

"What plan is that?"

"The moment the Looters arrive, all the children and all those too old to fight will go down into the Gorge. They will take food, clothing, weapons, tools, seeds, and written records of all the knowledge of the people, including what you have taught us about the Looters. There are caves down in the Gorge where ten times ten thousand of the people can hide so that the Looters will never find them. Those who go down into the Gorge will enter the caves and stay there until the Looter War is over, one way or another."

Blade laughed. "I will speak with pleasure for that plan. I was going to suggest something like that myself, if there was a place where some of the people could hide from the Looters." He rose and embraced his son. For a long moment they stood looking at each other, then Blade turned and went out into the courtyard of the King's House.

The hard-packed earth was damp with dew and the eastern sky was rapidly getting lighter. A cool breeze blew up over the New City from the Gorge. Blade stretched and stretched, until every knotted muscle was extended to the full. Then he headed toward the chamber he shared with Silora.

Chapter 24.

The people threw themselves into preparing to fight the Looters with an enthusiasm that surprised even Blade. Part of it was their desire to please Mazda. More of it was the joy everyone felt at being able to strike a deadly blow at the Looters, a blow that might end their threat for good. This joy was all the greater because when the people's fighters rode out to battle this time, they would all be going. No one who could fight would be left behind.

This was perhaps the biggest gamble of the whole war. If the Looters did come to the battlefield with a strong force of war machines and were willing to risk using the purple ray, the people could be slaughtered. But without bringing out the whole three thousand fighting men and women of the people, there was no chance of inflicting a truly crushing blow on the full strength of the Looters. Blade wanted to smash the Looters-especially the mercenaries-not just defeat them.

Most of the people shared Blade's desire, but did not know all his reasons. Vengeance for their dead and a desire for peace in the future drove most of the People onward. Blade had another reason, one Silora gave him.

"If all the mercenaries are destroyed by your people here in Tharn," she said, "Konis will be free of them. It can start on its own road back to civilization, and perhaps I can even go home." Her eyes filled with happy tears at the thought.

Blade put his arm around her to console her but said nothing. It was a lovely fantasy-saving two dimensions for the price of one battle. But he suspected it was only a fantasy. From what Silora had told him, Konis was too far gone to have much hope of clawing its way back up to civilization, in spite of dimension doors and war machines. They had let the barbarians take over, barbarians they had created themselves. If there was any hope at all for them, it probably lay much farther in the future than it did for Tharn.

But it was obvious that Silora wanted to go home to Konis in spite of that, to take her chances there with her own people, to live and die there. Blade made up his mind that he would do everything he could to see that she got her wish, or at least everything that he could do without danger to the people.

A month pa.s.sed, a month of furious training and making weapons and explosives, of stocking the refuge caves down in the Gorge, of packing up tools and seeds and written records ready to go. Three of the captured war machines were also hidden down in the Gorge. Their pilots were trained on them down there. One remained on the plateau, carefully disguised. Silora tuned its receivers to pick up the signals that would tell of the arrival of a Looter expedition. For the first few days she spent most of her time in the machine listening for that signal. She worked herself close to collapse listening, so Blade set up a regular rotating watch in the machine, reliable fighters trained by Silora to recognize the signal.

But it was Silora herself who came to Blade in the darkness one night to shake him gently awake.

"Mazda, the signal has come. The expedition is in Tharn. A large one, as we expected. I have never seen so many strong signals."

"Where are they?"

"No more than two days' ride away, I think, and almost straight east."

"Good." Blade rose and started pulling on his clothes.

"Go quietly to the King's House and give them the message. Then join me at our machine."

"I shall." She rose on tip-toe to kiss him long and warmly, then vanished into the darkness.

They could have reached the Looter camp in less than twenty minutes by flying fast. But Blade did not want to fly quite that fast just a few feet above the plain on a pitch-black night. They had to fly low, to stay below the Looters' horizon for as long as possible.

Halfway there they landed and Silora crawled out onto the rear platform to arm the bomb. Blade was waiting until now for safety's sake. He was quite sure that Silora would not betray him and the people by setting off the bomb deliberately. But he was equally sure that she could make mistakes, and mistakes with atomic bombs can lead to rather impressive displays of fireworks. Blade wanted to be sure that any such fireworks were a good safe distance away from the people.

The clatter of tools and the sc.r.a.ping of metal sounded from outside for about ten minutes. Then a pale and perspiring Silora climbed back in, unreeling a long teksin cord. She handed the leather loop at the end of the cord to Blade, then closed the hatch, leaving only a two-inch opening. Blade carefully pulled on the cord to make sure it would slide freely back and forth through the opening.

Silora sighed with relief and sat down cross-legged on the cabin floor. "That's done, Mazda. Now all we can do is to hope everything works as we planned it to work and that the mercenaries have followed their usual camp plan."