The Sex Life of the Gods
Her face was drained of color as she came into the house, the red of her
lips looking even more red against the pale wash of her face. "Nick!
Where's Nolan?"
"I..."
"Oh, my God, Nick! Have you killed him?"
"I couldn't hit him," Nick told her. "I emptied the magnum at him and he
disappeared into the air." His eyes had a wild look in them, "Right into
the air," he added inanely. Everything was so balled up. Everything was
crazy. He wasn't Nick Danson ... he didn't know his name ... Brice
vanished into thin air ... the two guys were dogging his tracks ...
women came out of the woodwork to make love to him. What the hell else
could possibly happen?
Beth was staring at him. "You killed him," she breathed.
"No, no! He vanished. He vanished ... honest to God, I never even came
close to hitting him. I might as well have thrown rocks."
"Men do not disappear into thin air," she said.
"Listen, forget that for a minute. How'd he know I was here?"
She sank wearily onto a chair and looked at him. "He found the watch I
gave you a few years ago. It was lying at the crash site. He came to the
office where I work and asked about you. I denied that I knew you were
back and he began to yell at me about my life being in danger and that I
should stay away from you until he had a chance to put a bullet into
you. My God, Nick! What have you done?"
"I dunno," he lied. Should he tell her that he was not her husband, that
he didn't have the foggiest notion of who he was? He decided against it.
"How'd he know where to find me?"
She sighed. "He helped you build the place. Now where is he?"
"Goddammit, Beth, I told you! How many times do I have to tell you that
he vanished!"
"Stop yelling at me!"
"Then believe me! It happened! I saw it happen, and I wasn't seeing
things! Go out and look. If you can find his body out there, I'll eat
it."
She uttered a little cry and came into his arms, holding him tightly.
"Oh, darling, I want to believe you. I want very much to believe you;
but men can't vanish."
"Brice did."
"All right. If you say he did. All right. Now what?"
"I don't know. I have to think. I have to try and remember what happened
to me. It's the only way that this crazy whirl will make sense, and it
has to make sense. It has to."
She nodded. "Let's go into the room. I want to be with you tonight. Let
me have the gun, dear?"
He stared at her, his jaws knotted. "You think I'm nuts, don't you? You
think I'm crazy."
"Darling, darling, of course not. But I wish you'd give me the gun."
Resignedly he unstrapped the gun and gave it to her. He shrugged. "I
don't blame you. Hell, I think I'm crazy too."
She didn't argue the point.
They both went into the front room and sat there staring into the ashes
of the dead fireplace while dusk fell about the cabin. Finally Beth
started the fire. When she had finished, she bent and kissed him.
"Why don't we get some sleep, honey," she said. "That may help."
"I'll be up later," he told her and she kissed him again. Then she went
to bed.
How long he sat there he had no way of knowing, but the fire was
steadily dying. The thoughts hammered in his head and he became lost in
them, trying mentally to find the key that would tear away the veil and
grant him a peek at his past. Bits and snatches had filtered through,
garbled and incoherent, that had tried to shed light yet could not. And,
while he leaned toward one conclusion, drawn from the dreams, he felt it
too fantastic for belief.
He was so absorbed in his thinking that he never heard the door open
slowly. When he did hear the soft tread behind him, it was too late! A
handkerchief of chloroform was clamped strongly over his face! He
struggled, trying to get away from the hands that held him, but he was
powerless! The chloroform got to him. He couldn't breathe...
He slept.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The ship came to rest upon a flat, ochre colored plain beside a
brilliant white city encased in thick, heavy walls. There was a dull
pain in his head and fire in his leg, but he was alive. He lay limply
upon the bed while Firstspacer Narvi plied him with honeywine to dull
the pain.
He grinned, studying the blond giant's warm, friendly face. He was among
friends; the tall, yellow eyed Thistians had failed to kill him and
Narvi had whisked him away into the violet sky.
"Thought we'd lost you, Lors," Narvi grinned. "You almost did," he
replied, choking on the Thista honeywine. "Haven't you anything else,
something from Darkkan?"
"Sorry, friend," Narvi grinned, "but you can be glad to get this. The
36th Command has been drinking up even this stuff. I'll see you later,
in the hospital."
"All right, Narvi." The big man started away, but Lors stopped him by
grabbing his blue sleeve. "Narvi?"
"Yes."
"Thanks. Thanks a lot."
Firstspacer Narvi punched him playfully on the arm and left the
compartment. The medical men came in then, hooking the anti-gravity
capsules to the bed and setting them into motion. The cot-like stretcher
lifted and the men towed him out to the freight elevator. As they stowed
him into the ambulance, he could see Narvi's staff car skimming toward
the Commandant's building to make out his report.
No doubt Commandant Imry would be coming to see him, later on.
* * * * *
Nick groaned. Another dream that was beginning to clear things up a
little...
"He's coming around." The words were not English, but Nick understood
them.
The big blond cursed softly. "Speak English, Thesa. Someone might hear
you!"
"There hasn't been anyone around this farm in months," Thesa replied,
lapsing into English. "But if you're getting particular, don't call me
Thesa."
Nick opened his eyes and blinked at them. It was the two watch dogs, the
blond and his sandy haired friend. The giant was grinning at him.
"Hello," he beamed. "Remember me?"
"No! Who in hell are you?" Nick struggled to get out of the chair he'd
been dumped in, but was pushed back firmly.
"When you didn't report, we went out to find you. The old guy at the gas
station covered up for you, so we had to watch Beth's house. Used all
kinds of tricks, Lors. Why in the blue heaven didn't you make contact?"
"You're Narvi!" Nick stared with wide eyes. "You're the man in the
dream!"
"Dream? Say, what's wrong with you, Lors? You refuse to report, you take
pot shots at us... That crash was a bad thing; don't tell me your
head..."
"Narvi," Thesa put in quickly. "The crash! He was lucky to get out of it
alive. Maybe he can't remember what went on. That right, Lors?"
Nick stared at them and foggy pictures swung vaguely into his mind.
Galaxies of stars whirled about, silver ships streaking in the sky and
tiny points of light whipping across ochre deserts. Men in blue uniforms
drilling beneath a violet sky in the heat of a solar wafer splotched
above them. It was real! The fears he had had, the crazy alternative
that the dreams presented to him ... it was all real.
"It wasn't a dream," Nick muttered, shaking his head like a punch-drunk
fighter. "I really am Firstspacer Lors! And I know you! I know you!"
"Take it easy, boy," Narvi said softly. "You've had a bad time. I might
have known you _couldn't_ report to us. Thesa, get some water! He looks
as though he's going to pass out!"
"I'm all right, I'm all right." He looked at Narvi and the memories, at
least a few of them, came fluttering into place. The temporary amnesia
slipped aside and the veil began to rise.
"You're sure you're all right, Lors?"
"Yes, Narvi. Things are beginning to make sense. Tell me about what I'm
doing here."
Narvi cursed angrily. "Commander Imry, the stupid thistlebug! It's all
his fault! All this fouled up thing is his doing. It would have been bad
enough even without your ship crashing; that just added to it. Luckily,
Imry has been ordered back. Someone back home heard of his idiotic plan
and the government is yelling for his hide."
"What plan? I ... can't..."
Thesa came in with a glass of water and handed it to Lors, who sipped at
it slowly while the big blond explained things to him. While Narvi
talked, it all began to come into sharp focus in his mind.
"After you and I finished campaigning on Darkkan and Thista, we applied
for assignment in this galaxy. They wanted to split us up, at first,"
Narvi grinned, "but we got mad, so they left us together and we were
shipped here under old Commander Imry. After a couple of years, Terran
time, studying on Mars we became agents on this planet. I got an easy
one here with Thesa, but Imry had bigger plans for you. Damn him!"
"But why are we spying on these people, Narvi? For war?"
"I hope not. The Terrans are getting close to space travel, and you know
what that would do to our colonies in this galaxy. They're entering a
primitive Atomic civilization and they're like little children playing
with weapons. Oh, they're serious enough, but they're so damned careless
they're likely to ruin the planet in atomic wars..."
"Sounds like the ancient history of our own planet," Lors said softly.
The memories were coming in faster now.
"True. And you know what happened to us? Damned near lost the whole
planet. Anyhow, you know the other planets in this galaxy? Well, since
Terra has a life form like ours, we could use this place as a link in
the supply chain. That is our main purpose. Trade.
"But these people have a strange attitude. Why, if we would land a ship
now, they'd rip us to shreds before you knew it. These people fear what
they don't understand, and anything they can't understand they kill. So,
right now, we're sending agents, or spies, down here with instructions
to probe about. They're coming along rather well, getting out of the
trees, you might say; but we'll have to keep an eye on them for awhile
yet."
Lors finished the water. "But what has this got to do with Commander
Imry and me? Apparently I was to take the place of Nick Danson, but
why?"
"That was Imry. You see, many times our agents are handicapped by the
very lives they lead. In order to learn about people, one has to live
with them; when our agents do this, they have to get jobs and settle
down in one area. Imry picked Danson because he's a footloose artist who
paints illustrations for magazines. All he had to do was snatch Danson,
work a little plastic surgery on you and put you in Nick Danson's place.
You then, would not be confined and could roam all over the planet
without being questioned."
"That's crazy," Lors told him. "I couldn't take Danson's place for the
rest of my life. He was gambling on a hell of a lot."
Narvi grunted. "You're a good spacer, Lors. You follow orders, even when
they're dictated by a madman. When you left the ship, you _were_ Danson.
You were processed so beautifully that no one could tell the difference.
When you cracked up, a blow on the head, or something, must have created
a temporary amnesia and you thought you _were_ Danson. We certainly had
a time locating you. Anyhow, you're to go back to the ship as soon as
you can. The new commander wants to talk with you." Narvi grinned slyly.
"I imagine you'll want to talk to him too. It's Zark, our old friend
from Thista."
"Zark. Yes. I remember him." Lors stood up and paced the room in
thought. He remembered grey haired, friendly Zark, but more than that,
he remembered Commander Zark's beautiful, blond daughter, Jela. "I
remember a lot now, Narvi. It's too bad they didn't send him sooner.
Things wouldn't be so messed up."
"It's not so bad."
"No?"
"No. You'll probably be going back to the home planet now."
"I can't go back," Lors mused. "I have to stay and see this through.
It's personal, now."
"Personal?" Narvi was clearly puzzled. "What can be personal about a