(eng) Michael Moorcock - SSC by Legends From the End of Time

Author:Legends From the End of Time [Time, Legends From the End of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

5. In Which Snuffles Finds a Playmate

The Duke of Queens, in cloth-of-gold bulked and hung about with lace, pearls in his full black beard, complicated boots upon his large feet, a natural, guttering flambeau in his hand, led his party through his new caverns ("Underground" was the current fad, following the recent discovery of a lost nursery-warren, there since the time of the Tyrant Producers), bellowing cheerfully as he pointed out little grottos, his stalagmites ("Prison-children in the ancient Grautt tongues — a pretty, if unsuitable, name!"), his scuttling troglodytes, his murky rivers full of white reptiles and colourless fish, while flame made shadows which changed shape as the fluttering wind changed and strange echoes distorted their speech.

"They must stretch for miles!" hissed Miss Ming, hesitant between Dafnish and Snuffles and the host she admired. "Aren't they altogether gloomier than Bishop Castle's, eerier than Guru Guru's?"

"They seem very similar to me," coldly said Dafnish Armatuce, looking hungrily about her for a branching tunnel down which, with luck, she might escape for a short while.

"Oh, you judge without seeing properly. You close your eyes, as always, to the experience."

Dafnish Armatuce wondered, momentarily, how much of her self-esteem she might have to relinquish to purchase the good will of a potential ally, someone willing to rescue her from her remorseless leech, but she dismissed the notion, knowing herself incapable of paying the price.

"Snuffles is enjoying himself — aren't you, dear?" said Miss Ming pointedly.

Snuffles nodded.

"You think they're the best you've seen, don't you?"

Again, he nodded.

"A child's eye!" She became mystical. "They take for granted what we have to train ourselves to look at. Oh, how I wish I was a little girl again!"

Sweet Orb Mace, in loose, navy-blue draperies, waved his torch expansively as he recognized Dafnish Armatuce and her son. His accent had changed completely since their last meeting and he had dropped his lisp. "Good afternoon, time travellers. The twists and turns of these tunnels, are they not tremendously tantalising? Such a tangle of intricate transits!" The caverns echoed his alliterative Ts so as to seem filled with the ticking of a thousand tiny clocks. A bow; he offered her his arm. Desperate, she took it, uncaring, just then, that Snuffles remained behind with Miss Ming. She needed a respite, for both their sakes. "And how do you find the grottos?" he enquired.

"Grotesque," she said.

"Aha!" He brightened. "You see! You learn! Shall we ogle, the gorgeous gulfs together?"

She failed to take his meaning. He paused, waiting for her response. None came. His sigh was politely stifled. The passage widened and became higher. There was a murmur of compliment, but the Duke of Queens silenced it with a modest hand.

"This is a discovery, not an invention. I came upon it while I worked. You'll note it's limestone, and natural limestone was thought extinct."

Their fingers went to the smooth, damp rock, and it received a reverential stroke.

Sometimes in silhouette, sometimes gleaming and dramatic in the flamelight, the Duke of Queens indicated rock

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