The Dark Crystal (16 page)

Consider: A Gelfling, apprehended by the Chamberlain, whom everyone had supposed to be wandering forever in the outer wilderness. A live Gelfling! The only species that could ever threaten the dominion of the Skeksis, according to the old prophecy concerning the restoration of the crystal shard – the species had therefore been liquidated. The Garthim-Master suppressed the superstitious shiver that even now ran through him at the thought of Gelfling. The Chamberlain would have to be given credit for his captive, if only to dissuade him from crowing about his success where the Garthim-Master’s Garthim had twice failed. But not too much credit. Praise him for his Gelfling, then ask him what had happened to the other Gelfling reported by the spy crystals. That would catch him off-balance. Then restore him to his office of Chamberlain, the second minister of the castle. Accept his homage. Next: The Ritual-Master. He had no grounds now for issuing a challenge to
Haakskeekah!
The Gelfling menace was being contained under the Garthim-Master’s Emperorship. To argue that it had been contained despite the Garthim-Master’s failure with his Garthim would, in the atmosphere of celebration and imminent conjunction, simply be petty. It was true that pettiness was a strong suit among the Skeksis, but the Ritual-Master had always affected to be above such sentiments, ostentatiously devoting himself to a life of hypocritical piety. So what course would he take now? He would want to make the most of this Gelfling for his own purposes: ritual sacrifice. He fancied himself to be at his best when rabid cruelty and high ceremony were mixed. He would have to be preempted, and the Scientist was the answer. The Scientist had to be instructed to requisition the Gelfling for his laboratory, in which case the Ritual-Master would not be able to argue that the claims of ritual preceded the claims of research and security. The Garthim-Master would offer the Scientist the opportunity to dissect a Gelfling in search of a means to eradicate the creatures forever. The Garthim-Master frowned. Until now they all had supposed that the Gelfling already had been exterminated. It was a mystery where these two new ones had sprung from. Spontaneous generation, perhaps? The Scientist would have to find a way to prevent that in the future. Should his advice be to destroy all life, both sentient and inanimate, outside the castle, so be it. For their own sustenance, they could breed Nebrie in the dungeons, and allow the Garthim to pillage and kill all over the globe. That would always leave the urRu, of course. The Skeksis could not destroy them. But the urRu were, by definition, no threat to the Skeksis any more than the mirror was a threat to the face. So that left the way clear for the Garthim-Master to accomplish his two most cherished ambitions: he would always sit on this throne; and, with the Scientist’s connivance, he would drink this Gelfling’s vliya and that other Gelfling’s as well, when it was found. And then let the Ritual-Master do what he could.

To the hosannas of the milky-eyed Pod choir, the ragged Chamberlain swaggered into the Throne Room with Kira clutched in his claws, held above his head. The other Skeksis, drawn up in two lines, could not forbear to lean forward and examine the little creature in curiosity and scarcely controlled apprehension. Since the moment the Ornamentalist had rushed in, babbling about a Gelfling and the Chamberlain, they had been waiting along. Now, here it was, a living example of the only virus that might prevent the renewal of their power: located, trapped, safe.

The Chamberlain made a profound obeisance to his all-wise Emperor. Holding Kira out before him, offering her to the throne, he embarked on a rapid recital of how subtly and persistently he had pursued and overtaken her. He would have gone on to a chilling description of the Skeksis’ fate without his enterprise had the Ritual-Master not interrupted.

“Kelffink Krakweekah!”
the Ritual-Master screeched. At the same time, he pointed at Kira and drew his talons across his throat, making his meaning quite clear.

The Ritual-Master had made but one step forward, intending to take due possession of his sacrificial victim, when the Garthim-Master, raising his scepter, bellowed a denial.

Remaining where he was, the Ritual-Master nevertheless drew out the long, brilliant blade of his sacrificial knife. He held it and stared at the Garthim-Master. The pose was one that the Garthim-Master did not find ambiguous.

The Chamberlain, meanwhile, was issuing his own protest. The Gelfling was his prisoner, and what was to be done with it should be his decision.

Beckoning the Scientist to him for a private consultation, the Garthim-Master talked quietly to him, and the Scientist nodded decisively several times.

Then the Garthim-Master addressed the assembly.
“Kelffink na Rakhash,”
he declared.

Not all the Skeksis were in agreement with the proclamation. Some doubted the Scientist’s effectiveness in his Chamber of Life. The Ornamentalist was devising uses for Kira’s severed head. The Gourmand was savoring thoughts of the rest of her body. And all of them knew perfectly well where the Garthim-Master’s interest lay. Probably it was a deficiency of Gelfling vliya that had killed the old Emperor. Now, if the Scientist could have designed a completely safe method of breeding Gelfling in captivity, with a regular production of vliya, they would have saluted him. Indeed, that would have given him a direct route to the throne. But, as the Ritual-Master was even now screeching to the assembly, the Scientist was a mere Pod processor, a self-mutilating crank. Would it not be more fitting to celebrate their salvation, the Ritual-Master demanded, by use of this ceremonial knife he was holding?

Still, disagreement persisted, and the Ritual-Master continued pressing his bloodthirsty intention.

The Garthim-Master realized that he had to change his tactics. He muttered confidentially again to the Scientist, who was unmoved by the whole fracas, then strode down from the throne to take possession of the Gelfling.

Holding her aloft, he declared portentously,
“Kelffink cho tenkha. Vo olk Kelffink ulls?”

The other Gelfling? In their excitement at seeing this one, several Skeksis had given no thought to the other one. There was consternation, from which the Garthim-Master profited by passing Kira quietly to the Scientist, who made off with her to his Chamber of Life. Eyes turned to the Chamberlain. Where, indeed, was the other Gelfling?

This was the Chamberlain’s trump card. He explained coolly. The Gelfling he had just brought in to them was the one that had spent all this time concealed among the Pod People. It was not inexplicable that it had eluded detection by the spy crystals. Gelfling and Pod People were, after all, of similar size. The other Gelfling, which had appeared at Aughra’s Observatory from an unknown origin, was no longer a risk to them. The Chamberlain had made certain of that. He did feel, however, that he could not justify producing the other Gelfling’s body for them until he was assured that he himself was restored to a secure position within the Skeksis hierarchy. Alive or dead, a Gelfling’s body was, they all knew, an object of rare value. Were he not welcome back in the castle, with all his previous honors and powers returned, he might prefer to retain sole possession of the body and savor the vliya himself.

The Chamberlain knelt in homage. The Garthim-Master bent gravely over him, with the scepter aloft, and murmured in his ear: Where is the other Gelfling?

The Chamberlain told him.

The Garthim-Master nodded. The two of them would go for it themselves, he muttered. Rather that than trust the Garthim.

As the two of them rose and strutted in pomp from the chamber, cries of homage rang in their ears.