Tom Swift and His Polar-Ray Dynasphere (17 page)

"If they start in with them loud ee-lectric gee-tars, I’m leavin’," grumbled Chow.

The theatrical troupe entered. All were women. They seemed to be divided into two groups, some wearing jewelry, others turbans of yorb-blue.

Jahan provided a quiet commentary for the table of foreigners. "The female actors in blue turbans are portraying men. The performance is entirely silent. The special movements and poses, and the positioning of the players, all communicate the basic story, which the second part elaborates upon in a more natural manner."

The Shoptonians could make little of the first part, which seemed like a dance rather than a play or story. "Just what
is
the theme, Your Highness?" inquired Tom.

"A classic one—temptation and tragedy. The second part will make it all clear."

After the short performance, the players withdrew to applause. Prince Jahan again rose. "Now, honored friends, let us provide the stage for the second act of the
q’nul vedtri
." He gestured. To murmurs of surprise, a big movie screen descended from the high ceiling! "Yes, this part takes place on film. I could not have prepared it alone. Allow me to introduce the man who has donated his great expertise and craft, working with me behind the scenes, in secrecy, to make this performance a surprise. Do come and receive our gratitude, Mr. Hugh Mortlake!"

"
Good grief!
" Bud choked.

Mortlake stepped onto the floor as Jahan led the audience in applause. He glanced toward the guest table, and Tom thought he saw a wink.

As Mortlake left the floor, the lights dimmed and the screen came to life. Jahan sat down and quietly explained to the others: "Hugh is a professional in the field of animation whom I contacted months ago. He is Sri Lankan by birth, but grew up in Britain and has become well known among his peers under the pseudonym
Jesterman
. His London studio is recognized for its expertise in the new form of animation, which uses computers. We hope this will someday become an industry here, as it is in Korea and Japan. He’s spent some time sketching various aspects of Vishnapur life and culture, to prevent anything appearing in the film that might be so inaccurate as to seem insulting. Even within the hour he was doing what he calls ‘final tweaking’."

"Oddly enough, we’ve already run into him a few times on this trip," Tom commented dryly. "He kept your secret well."

"As I asked him to, for reasons you will see."

"I’m on the edge of my seat."

The animated story had no sound but was easy enough to follow. It took place in a kingdom situated in the treetops of a great forest, with Chogyal always looming in the background. The inhabitants were birds, who walked and dressed as people—and in the case of military types, carried modern weaponry. Many visual details made clear that the tree-city represented Chullagar, its fictional palace the very one the audience was sitting in.

The main characters were two families of obvious royal birth, with the husband and wife of one family wearing crowns. Each couple had a young son, and the boys were shown playing together with many signs of mutual devotion.

Then, suddenly, the mother in the crownless family was snatched away by angelic beings and deposited upon the peak of Chogyal. "I know what that means," whispered Bashalli. "The
devis
of the Lord of Good Death have carried her to the next world."

"Traditional symbolism," said Prince Jahan.

The widower father was shown mourning. The two young boy-birds grew rapidly through several youthful exploits, close and loyal friends. But then the story seemed to take a darker turn. The remaining wife was shown meeting alone with the widower, then embracing him in a tender way. Suddenly the entire screen was filled with a flower of dark red hue. "Hunh! No myst’ry about
this
here part!" snorted Chow. "Got a little hanky-panky goin’ on b’hind the sheets.—That dee-sert a little rich fer you, Sandy?"

Next a royal hunt by the two royal fathers was portrayed, with giant canines as riding-elephants with howdahs, their tiger-like quarry a huge striped rat. As Tom and Bud watched in tense anticipation, the rat was brought down by a rifle shot, and the crownless man passed a cup of blue wine to the other, the King, as if honoring him. The wine was downed—and the King suddenly slipped to the ground. The wayward wife now appeared from the leaves, joining the other man. They stared at the dying bird-King before them. Then the woman knelt down and plucked the crown from her dead husband’s head, placing it atop the head of the other.

The screen went black.

Tom had kept himself aware of Jahan throughout the film. The prince seemed to be studying keenly the royal dais, and when Tom followed his glance, he noticed that King Glaudiunda and Queen Aju were becoming distressed and nervous. As the showing ended both rose abruptly and left the dais, followed by the Crown Prince.

As the room lights came up to thunderous applause, Prince Vusungira appeared and spoke to Mr. Phudrim, who stepped onto the floor and waved his hands for silence. "Their Majesties have chosen to retire early," he said, "and will issue their commemorative decree through the Palace Ministry. We thank you all. Good night to you."

As the animated crowd filed out the doors, Tom spoke quietly and frowningly to Prince Jahan. "Do you think that was a wise decision, Jahan?" he challenged. "You’ve stirred things up and put yourself in real danger."

The prince shrugged. "It was necessary. I regard their reactions as confirming the fact of their betrayal of my father. But now tell me, what of the cassette I gave you? What did you find?"

Tom withdrew a videocassette from his inner jacket pocket. "You can have it back. I discovered quite a few things, unexpected things." Jahan reached forward to take it, but Tom shook his head and withdrew it. "No, Your Highness. This is just a blank from the
Sky Queen
. Forgive me, but I had to do just as
you
did—gauge your reaction." He described the theft of the cassette.

Jahan was livid. He said but one word in English—"
Outrageous
!"—and stormed away through the door to the great hall.

In the antechamber Tom and Bud heard their names called, and Hugh Mortlake approached. "Wasn’t this a night? But I hope you’ll forgive me for my little deception, fellows. A promise is a promise, as they say."

"You really pulled it off," said Tom.

"Thanks. I did get a bit nervous when I saw Bud here poking through my sketch book. No, please don’t be embarrassed, Bud—with all that happened you had every right to be suspicious."

"Then I’m
sure
you’ll understand why I’d like to know if our running into you in Mumbai was just an accident," Bud declared coolly.

Mortlake shrugged. "To be honest, only in part. I was in that shop just as a simple bargain-hunting tourist. But I was indeed at the restaurant patio by schemery. You see, it’s my way as an artist to create caricature by viewing my subjects in live motion and sketching it down—I call it ‘the line.’ The palace had Vusungira’s daily itinerary, and Jahan had told me he’d be there. Lucky thing, wasn’t it?"

"In several ways," Tom agreed.

Bidding the others goodnight, Tom and Bud strolled across the courtyard, circling the
Dyna Ranger
and whispering about the escalating events. Then, as they neared their wing, uniformed men came running down a walkway, meeting several others who came swarming from the palace wing. As they all stood in a knot of gesticulation and raised voices, the youths noticed that General Utrong’j and the King’s Minister, Phudrim, were among them.

Remembering Jahan’s anger, Tom rushed up with a sick feeling. "Mr. Phudrim, what’s wrong?" he asked fearfully. "Has something happened to Their Majesties?"

The man’s eyes froze on Tom Swift. "Their Majesties? What could make you think such a thing?—Yet it is horrible,
horrible
! To imagine that this terrible event could happen here, in Vishnapur—!"

"Come on!" snapped Bud. "
Tell us!
"

"Horrible! We have learned of deaths—
many, many deaths!
"

"GIVE us the details, Phudrim!" came a stern voice from behind Tom and Bud—Harlan Ames.

"Mr. Ames, I—of course this is an internal matter for my country—I’m not authorized― "

Phudrim was cut off by a curt bark of Vishnapurian from General Utrong’j. "Your help may be useful, Mr. Ames," declared the general; "all your help. Not everything is understood as yet, but my police are reporting some sort of massive death scene at a crossroads outside the city limits."

"An auto accident?" asked Ames.

"Surely not. But the cause is unclear. Will you three join me at the scene? Perhaps your scientific viewpoint will help us make sense of this."

The three rode with General Utrong’j and Mr. Phudrim beyond Chullagar, turning from the paved highway onto a winding mountain road, along which roadblocks had been set up. Presently they came to a broad pass where two descending roads came together.

Uniformed men and medics swarmed about in the light of powerful lamps and flashlights. Tom and Bud had seen death before—but nothing like this. Bodies were strewn everywhere!

The sight was sickening. "
Horrible
" is too soft a word! thought Tom.

Harlan Ames was already crouching down over the bodies. "Cuts and bruises, mostly on the face and neck and the exposed forearms. No bullet wounds." He stood up pensively. "In fact, I see very few weapons here at all—a few knives, a sabre."

"Could this be an animal attack?" Bud speculated. "Maybe a herd of tigers or something?"

General Utrong’j shook his head. "Here? No sign of such a thing. And it would be unprecedented."

Leaning down over one of the bodies, Tom suddenly pointed. "But look at this! Harlan, don’t these look like bite marks?"

Ames studied them. "I think so. Much too small for a tiger, and there’s no ripping, as an animal would cause. Yet... the smearing of the blood..."

"Let us not fear to say what is obvious," snapped the General. "They are from the teeth of a human being!"

"And I see marks like that on many of these poor people," Tom said. "Sir, do you have any idea who these people are?"

"Oh yes, we surely do. Two large groups, from the two mountain villages in the valleys at the top of these pathways. From what they are wearing and carrying, they were on the way to this night’s Festival event in Chullagar."

Tom nodded slowly. "I see. The groups walked down the two paths—look at the scuffs in the dirt—and arrived here at the crossroads at the same time. And then..."

"Was there bad blood between the two villages? A rivalry or feud of some sort?" asked Ames.

Mr. Phudrim answered quickly, "No, no! The villages were like brothers! We Vishnapuri are peaceful and learn the ways of understanding and friendliness."

"I’d say they’ve been
friendlied
to death," Bud pronounced, without humor.

After a time the authorities began to receive bits of better news from the medical personnel. "By grace of Chogyal they are not all dead after all," announced Utrong’j. "Many are alive, but persist in unconsciousness. We must get ambulances up here and begin to transport the bodies to our two hospitals in Chullagar—the only two in the country."

"General, we’d be glad to house as many as we can aboard my aircraft," Tom offered. "We have medical supplies aboard, and could fly the most critical cases to facilities in India."

"You are most kind," nodded the General.

Suddenly Ames said, "Then perhaps you might indulge us a bit in return, General."

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you. I realize it might be considered a bit undignified and offensive to your beliefs― "

"What do you wish, Mr. Ames?"

"I’d like you to remove your turban and turn around."

The security minister was stonefaced, yet amazement leaked into his voice. "What!
Ji nej’h!
You ask me to—! But why?"

"I ask also, Mr. Ames," said Phudrim. "Perhaps you do not realize that this is insulting to our customs."

"My apologies. What I need to do is examine the General’s neck, where it meets his hairline."

Both Vishnapurians sputtered in bewilderment, and Tom put in: "It could be important, General Utrong’j. You’ve just been examining a great many of these bodies at close proximity. Do you see?"

The man’s mouth snapped shut into a grim line. "Then you suspect a contagion of some sort? Something that first shows on that part of the skin?"

Ames stepped forward. "If you don’t mind, sir."

Utrong’j turned and lifted off his turban. Ames took a close look, but barely a glance, then backed away. "Thanks, General. I don’t see anything. You’re fine."

The man gave a twitch of a smile. "I am relieved. I must be fit to deal with this crisis."

"Yes," Ames agreed. Then he turned his gaze. "And now, Mr. Phudrim, let’s have a look at
you
."

The Royal Minister seemed to pale. "Me? But I have barely― "

"No nonsense, Phudrim," commanded General Utrong’j. "Let us get past this. I will not have you spreading a contagion to Chullagar. All here must be inspected."

"Actually," said the Enterprises security chief calmly, "I don’t believe that will be necessary. Mr. Phudrim?"

Trembling, Phudrim removed his turban and Ames drew close. "Mm-hmm. I think we have a winner. Anyone else want a look?"

Tattooed at the top of Phudrim’s neck was the image of Yamantaka!

"Jetz!" Bud breathed. "Like on that Benni Susak guy!"

"I’d say you have a few things to answer for, Mr. Minister," pronounced Tom dryly.

"I shall say nothing!" snapped Phudrim.

"No? The night is young, Phudrim." General Utrong’j motioned for his security men to handcuff the minister.

As the three Americans turned and stepped away, Ames chuckled quietly. "You’re mighty quick on the uptake, boss."

"I guessed what you were after."

"What made you suspect Phudrim?" asked Bud.

Ames shrugged. "Just a little flatfoot investigating over these last few days. Clearly someone inside the palace gates was involved in the plotting—probably the same person who had the tape stolen. As you reasoned, Bud, it was someone who knew of your plans that day, how long you two could be expected to be away from your room."