The Gates of Creation by Philip Jose Farmer

Author:Philip Jose Farmer [Farmer, Philip]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: sf

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FROM THE EDGE OF THE RIVER, WHERE THE DRAGONBOAT WAS beached, Wolff studied the problem. It was useless to try to climb the near-perpendicular and near-frictionless rock without some aids. A rope had to be thrown up to catch on something. The hexagons were too wide to try to settle a noose around them.

A grappling hook might do the job. It could be presumed that the other side of the gate-that which opened onto another planet, he hoped-would hold a grapple.

The hides of animals could be cut and tied or sewn together to make a rope, although the strips would have to be tanned to give them flexibility. The metal for the hooks was a big problem.

There might be metal somewhere in this world, perhaps not too far away. But getting to it across the land would be a slow process. So, there was only one thing to do, and he did not expect that the two most vital in this particular project would be cooperative.

Nor were they. Vala did not want to give up her sword and Theo`tormon refused to part with his knife.

Wolff argued with them for several hours, pointing out that if they did not give up their weapons, they would be dead in time anyway.

Wolff said, after Theotormon's violent refusal, "Very well. Be pig­headed. But if the rest of us find a way to get through the gate, we will not take you with us. I swear it! You will be pushed back into this pale world of icestone, and you will stay here until an animal de­vours you or you die of old age."

Vala looked around at the Lords who sat in a circle about her. She smiled and said, "Very well. You may have my sword."

"You won't get my knife, I promise you that," Theotormon said.

The others began to scoot on their buttocks towards him. He stood up and tried to run past them. His huge feet gave him a better grip on the white stuff than the others could manage, but Wolff reached out and clutched his ankle, and he went down. He fought as best he could, submerged under the pile of bodies. Eventually, weeping, he gave up. Then, muttering, scowling, he went off to sit down on the river's edge by himself.

With some chalky stone he found, Wolff traced lines on Vala's sword. He set the beamer at full power and quickly cut out trian­gles. He then arranged the three pieces and set several round pieces of the sword on top of them. With the beamer at half-power he fused the three prongs and round pieces into a single unit. After plunging these into cold water, he heated the prongs in their middles and ham­mered them into slightly hooked shapes. He curved another strip of sword with heat and hammered and fused this onto the top of the prong so that a rope could be tied around it.

Since he did not have to use Theotormon's knife, he gave it back to him.

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