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  Whereupon he swallowed a cupful of spiced wine, which put a little heart into him, while Clement took up the refrain.

  “Holy name, I still see the fires dancing before my eyes. Say, Garin, you really sure we ain’t dead?”

  “My brothers, I tell you in all truth: bom of God, dead in Jesus, we rise again by the Holy Spirit. Repent your sins and you will inherit eternal life. Sin no more and ye shall know peace of soul. What matters then the loss of a mortal body? William—bless him—preaches a Holy Crusade which will give you the means to redeem your faults, by traveling infinite space to serve the cause of the Faith. During our voyage, we will have no chance to be tempted by sins of the flesh, far less to be moved by foul perversions. So we shall be meeting creatures whose sex is surely not like ours, and all fornication will be forbidden you under pain of revealing your earthly nature. So you will have occasion to make a virtuous and complete abstinence...

  “God!” sighed Guiot, dazed. “I never thought of that That’s true. We’re going to have to give up women for a damn long time.”

  “That is exactly the truth,” the Templar assured them with an ironic smile. “If we meet other star folk, they’re surely going to have a shape different from ours.”

  “Holy name,” Clement swore. “What a bore! And what do you think, we going to have to stay very long in that purgatory?”

  “Hard to say. The equivalent of one or two of our months no doubt about it. Lord Marco Polo has to make contact with other merchants, get information out of them, maybe even enter one of the cities occupied by the Baphomets. Then we go back to Earth, taking the long way home so as not to draw attention of enemy patrols. Surely a minimum of two months, granted nothing unforeseen comes up....”

  “Ah, well, that's promising. Garin, my brother, thanks for letting us know. I’m done in, I’m going to bed. You coming, Clement?”

  "I’m there. Night, Garin.”

  “The Lord protect you and grant you edifying dreams,” the Templar wished them, astonished to see his two comrades become so virtuous.

  He stayed musing a moment, staring into the glowing embers, wondering why his miscreant brothers had suddenly lost their appetites. Was it the prospect of leaving Earth that led them finally to think of their salvation? He shook his head, knelt for a brief prayer and, wrapping himself in his great white cloak, prepared to sleep the sleep of the just

  As for Guiot and dement, they seemed to have forgotten all their fatigue. The moment their brother fell asleep, they went wide-striding along the road that led to Chang-Chu.

  At the end of a quarter hour, they reached the drawbridge, identified themselves and entered the city by the postern gate.

  There they followed a dark lane about fifty meters and reached the front of a brightly lit shop. Songs, cries, oaths rang far down the lane. The sign hanging over the door illustrated the name of the tavern. The Four-Day Drunk.

  Through the upper-story windows came women’s laughter.

  The two brothers looked at each other with a conspiratorial grin. Before suffering a forced continence of several weeks, they were going to give themselves memories enough for this disturbing voyage, and even for several future ones.

  Next morning, Garin found Clement and Guiot sleeping nearby. He recited his matins, prepared breakfast with the leavings of the last night’s supper, then, as his brothers still kept snoring, hands curled, he decided to shake them, gently at first, and then more roughly.

  The sleepers turned back over, grumbling.

  Confronted with the futility of his efforts, Garin scratched his head thoughtfully, leaned over Guiot, sniffed his breath and straightened with a grimace of disgust, for his brother reeked of wine.

  Suddenly he snatched a waterskin, emptied it into a shield and poured it liberally over the luckless fellows who came up like the devils they were, cursing and blaspheming.

  “For sure,” the Templar growled, “you’ll always be impossible. Where did you spend the night?”

  “Well, we thought we ought to say good-bye to our friends,” muttered Clement, snorting. “Then we went to town. . . . Suddenly everyone was drinking our health, and we had to answer that. Couldn’t offend them.”

  “Yeah,” said Guiot “Couldn’t let old buddies down like that....’’

  “Oh, yes? And then?” asked Garin, taking out of the rascal’s pocket a red silk scarf. “A farewell gift, I suppose?”

  “Right you are,” said Clement “Out where we’re going, the nights can get cold.”

  “Cease your lies, you filthy sinners! You were sunk again in orgies and debauchery. I don’t know what keeps me from giving you up to your sony fate. . . . ”

  “You know, we were thinking about you,” Guiot murmured, all abashed. “We were going to bring you a relic, a tooth of St. Agatha, because it would bring you luck, and you can’t be wounded when you’re carrying it on you.”

  So saying, he rummaged in his purse and brought out a yellowed stub that the Templar hurled far from him with a ringing slap.

  “Stupid yokels! They’d have you believing any kind of flummery when you’re drunk. Eat and get dressed. We’re supposed to be on board in an hour....”

  “All the same,” protested Red Guiot, “you’re going too far. A tooth that cost me thirty sols....”

  The Templar shrugged and, paying no more attention to them, turned back to his affairs, then brushed his white cloak meticulously and polished his armor.

  At the appointed hour, the Tholon brothers presented themselves in front of the reconnaissance ship. Clement and Guiot were yawning fit to unhinge their jaws.

  Lord Marco Polo walked up and down before the ladder to the lock.

  The Venetian was a very handsome man. A large cap of red-striped velvet crowned his black, almost crinkly hair. His deep-set blue eyes enlivened an energetic face, full of health, tanned by his endless ridings forth. His short curled beard, which he frequently tugged, but half hid his bull’s neck, which marked an uncommon strength. His wide shoulders were clothed in a spotless ermine mantle, which cloaked a fine figure well set off in a broidered pourpoint

  His piercing look, of astonishing keenness, passed over the members of his crew. Then he talked to them in his musical voice, with a slight Italian accent “My friends, we’re going to live together a dangerous adventure. I know your bravery and I haven’t any worry about your behavior if we run into a fight. But it will be your cleverness and your adaptability we need most of all. We’re going to be staying among hostile populations and we have to watch moment by moment how we act and what we say. Be cautious: a casual gesture could be fatal among strangers. The secret of our success rests, then, in our constant care. Thanks to Brother Joubert’s talismans, you will be inspired by God and speak fluently the language of the people whose look you will assume. The wonderful gadgets of the learned Joubert work marvelously, I’m sure of it The wise lama who is going with us will keep us safe from all surprise by his power to compel souls. It is imperative for the safety of Christendom that we conduct this mission well. You’ll be merchants, so no quarrels and no stealing. Only one thing matters to you, to sell your goods at a good price. Keep your ears open at all times and make your friends do the talking; be generous. Don’t be stingy with gifts; keep an open table.

  Most of all, don’t ever let yourselves be rash in eating and drinking strange food and liquor; we’ll inform you of the danger of certain items, but we could forget some details. So it’s up to you to act with prudence. Be wise also in mistrusting others’ generosity. Don’t let people get around you. I don’t know what the women of the other worlds may be, but the female kind always brings the most extreme danger! Now we’re going to board. You’ll get the rest of my instructions on the ship. Know finally that I have the utmost confidence in the success of our mission. You’ll be equal to your job.”

  So saying he agilely climbed the rungs of the metal ladder which led to the lock, and his companions followed.

  Besides the Tholon brothers,
there were only two other passengers, Djaffar the subtle, the only one who knew precisely how the esoteric engines aboard worked, and the wise lama Houen-Lun, on whom rested the whole success of the expedition.

  There was no lack of room. The ship could accommodate ten men. Everyone settled in comfortably.

  The ships meant for William's army had been faithfully based on the Baphomet ships, the sole difference being that they could easily hold a hundred armed men.

  The size of those ships might seem strange to the extraterrestrials, so Joubert had given the spies a ship similar in eveiy detail to those of their enemies.

  When the thick hatch clicked shut on its mountings, the Tholon brothers felt a little uneasy. They were going to face unknown dangers. And would they see the sweet Earth again?

  But when the screen in front of Djaffar came alight and William wished his mission good luck, the men of Auxerre felt all cheerful and full of pride. Had not the Grand Master said that on them rested the destiny of all mankind?

  They swelled with pride and swore they would accomplish their mission without fail, come what might

  Chapter III

  ☆

  The ship took off like a feather, headed for the light cloud9 which drifted lazily in the blue.

  In bewilderment Clement and Guiot saw the green countryside shade off and disappear in the bluish haze, while the thin clouds unraveled themselves across the viewports or, at least, what took the place of viewports.

  The sight became even more impressive when the Earth dwindled to become a plain blue-haloed sphere nestled in the ebon sky.

  “God’s blood!” Red Guiot gasped, “that’s climbing.”

  “And our moon,” raved Clement. “Look at thatl You’d think it was a princess’ jewels. . . . ”

  But the ship was still gathering speed. Djaffar stopped checking the instruments. Everything aboard was automatic, or practically everything, and his role was limited to watching the behavior of the whole.

  The ship exited the solar system perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic, so that they could hardly tell the other planets in the star-studded sky.

  “My friends,” Marco Polo said then, “our voyage is going to last several weeks. We’ll pass close to several stars like our sun. Most of them shouldn't have any planets. But all the same, our wise Houe-Lun will proceed with a psychic broadcast when we cross the vicinity of those stars. Of course, the nearer we come to the land of the demoniacal Baphomets, the more careful we have to be. In the event we met another ship en route, Djaffar knows the procedure to follow. Our lama will try at that point to dominate the minds of the crew to get information on the way the extraterrestrials conduct their commerce. That will be one of the most dangerous moments of our voyage. You will have to be quiet and not interrupt his spiritual concentration. He’ll share with us then what he’s learned and advise us the best behavior to follow. For the moment, don’t fear that you’re going to suffer from idleness. Doctor Djaffar is going to teach you our enemies’ language, by means of a marvelous talisman. Every day you’ll wear that network for an hour. You may perhaps feel a few headaches from it, but that won’t last. At the end of a fortnight, you’ll be speaking the language of the planet Baphom as readily as your own. You’ll also know the Baphomets’ usages and customs, which will keep you from making mistakes. Finally, if we make contact with a different race, your apprenticeship must be much more rapid, a few minutes, no more. Djaffar will give you a medication then that will ease your fatigue. Now, take your places for your first lesson."

  The three brothers, a little reluctantly, took their places on the special seats, after which Marco Polo assured them that he had undergone this treatment himself with no hurt, and so had Djaffar and Houen-Lun.

  This lesson went very well.

  At the beginning they sat there with their mouths open. A thin voice whispered incomprehensible words in their ears. Little by little they relaxed and the murmur became inaudible.

  Their lesson finished, they had a little liberty, and then, it being dinnertime, the Auxerre gourmands had to content themselves with a thin broth doled out by a mysterious machine. To quench their thirst they had nothing but water, a very poor beverage in the reckoning of Clement and Guiot, who were beginning to dream of the food of the good Earth....

  But they put a brave face on it, keeping their opinions to themselves. Marco Polo, Djaffar and Houen-Lun were under the same discipline, so the Tholons would have been churlish to complain. As for Garin, he was taking great delight in his two miscreant brothers’ pretense.

  This monastic life was going to last for days and days.

  The Tibetan spent most of his time crouched on his mat, surrounded by a gold net, his skull shining with grease. Djaffar undertook regular examination of the strange instruments situated in the console before him, and he concocted unguents in his spare time. As for Marco Polo, he ceaselessly compared the configuration of the constellations which shone on his screen with those depicted on a crystal sphere.

  The Tholon brothers unenthusiastically submitted to their dairy seances. Only Clement complained of headaches and nightmares. Djaffar gave him several drops of a bitter mixture and everything settled back into order.

  The sun had long since become only one tiny ember lost among countless other stars.

  One morning as Garin wakened he pronounced a few words in a strange language with harsh accents. Amazed, he finally understood Djaffar’s maneuvers, discovering suddenly that the ship, driven by immaterial waves, was navigating in an environment without regard to their own, following a trajectory precisely determined by an automatic system. He realized that the images he was seeing on the screens were only a rendering in a spectrum of light perceptible to his eyes. Strange details came into his mind, visions of a ruddy planet with a sky streaked with amethyst cloud, or titanic cities lifting towers to assault the clouds like the towers of Babel. He knew, too, the unnatural customs of the perverted Baphomets, who committed fornications among themselves with males and females. From these monstrous unions were born little monsters which would be brought up en masse in warm incubators. Horrified, he perceived thousands of foul mouths suckling hungrily at the plastic tubes which dripped a foul green broth.

  The Templar learned, too, that there existed besides the Baphomets three other races of aliens. First, the graceful Ethir with frondy plumage and vast wings, who had led a peaceful existence on their own planet, nesting in the great branches of the trees, feeding on grain and tiny insects. Then the Baphomets had come and the gentle flying-folk lived now in slavery. Certain of them, expatriate, served as household servants. Their long broken wings trailed sorrowfully behind them. The ones who stayed on Eth had been provided with tiny brain implants and worked without letup, cultivating the wondrous flowers which they distilled to produce a rare essence. This they saved in crystal vials and sent by entire shiploads to the Baphomets, who drank it prodigiously. This drug plunged them into an incomparable ecstasy after their interminable couplings.

  The Orpheds, on the other hand, were insects like huge praying mantises. They were expert in the making of strangely convolute horns from which they drew melodious sounds, and they had besides a marvelous gift for musical composition. Their race had been decimated by the Baphomets and the survivors were brought into captivity on Baphom. There, to soothe their masters, these poor creatures must play their inexhaustible repertoire without cease. They suffered from the climate of this planet of exile, which was too cold for them, and they died very quickly. Fortunately their race was very prolific. Each female laid about thirty eggs, which were hatched in artificial incubators. The little ones were then fed by metal creatures, which gave them the juices of the plants indispensable to their growth, especially imported from Orph.

  The Odeous, the only race with an advanced civilization, had been enslaved after harsh combat which had ravaged their homework!. Their bodies would have been very much like those of Terrans if nature had not given them an iridescent skin of
changing colors. Their vast, translucent eyes were full of a marvelous tenderness. The Baphomets, lacking pity, made these spacefarers prisoners eternally chained to their ships.

  These slaves had an inborn talent for electronics, chemistry and mechanics, which rendered them irreplaceable. They did ceaseless commerce on the planet Baphom, crossing immeasurable distances to make contact with other distant stars and to furnish their masters with new sources of nourishment and the psychedelic drugs of which the Baphomets were inordinately fond. Impossible for these ships of the damned to escape die despotic lords of Baphom: a special device inexorably brought their ships back to this planet, as a lode-stone draws iron. No hope either of ending their pitiable lives, for tiny electrodes implanted in their brains rendered every attempt at suicide impossible. So for all the course of their existence, the Odeous gazed on one another with their vast, wide-pupiled eyes, slaves forever imprisoned within the hulls of their ships. Their females, beautiful as goddesses, knew a fate even more pitiless. The foul Baphomets, avidly seeking after new pleasures, appreciated their delicate bodies, their graceful beauty, and filled their harems with these unfortunate creatures.

  All this the Templar learned without surprise, as if he had always known ft. Before his departure from Earth, he would have had difficulty absorbing these gifts, so strange to his mind. But thanks to the magic apparatus, he took in this information as if it were ordinary.

  His brothers acquired these revelations almost at the same moment and painlessly assimilated them. As for the other passengers, they had undergone the treatment before their departure and already knew these details.

  Marco Polo still had to give them some supplementary information.

  “You know now what is the aspect of these creatures that we will meet on this voyage. Unfortunately, we don’t know their language at all. The Baphomets despise their slaves and few among them speak the idiom of the enslaved races. Our wise lama will therefore have a very hard task if we chance to meet a ship inhabited by Odeous. Once the initial contact is established, we will disguise ourselves so we don’t attract attention. Everything necessary has been foreseen. You just have to carry out your role. The most painful part of it is doubtless going to be enduring the lenses which will make your eyes like those of the Odeous. Come, I’m going to teach you to slip them under your lids.”