Stanislaw Lem - The Offer Of King Krool

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The Offer of King Krool

Stanislaw Lem

An Impressive Advertisement

The tremendous success of their application of the Gargantius Effect gave both

constructors such an appetite for adventure, that they resolved to sally forth once again to

parts unknown.

Unfortunately, they were quite unable to decide on a destination.

Trurl, given to tropical climes, had his heart set on Scaldonia, the land of the Flaming

Flamingos, while Klapaucius, of a somewhat cooler disposition, was equally determined to visit

the Intergalactic Cold Pole, a bleak continent adrift among frozen stars. The friends were

about to part company for good when Trurl suddenly had an idea. “Wait,” he said, “we can

advertise our services, then take the best offer!”

“Ridiculous!” snorted Klapaucius. “How are you going to advertise? In a newspaper? Do you

have any idea how long it takes a newspaper to reach the nearest planet? You'll be dead and

buried before the first offer comes in!”

But Trurl gave a knowing smile and revealed his plan, which Klapaucius—begrudgingly—had

to admit was ingenious, and so they set to work. All the necessary equipment quickly thrown

together, they gathered up the local stars and arranged them in a great sign, a sign that

would be visible at truly incalculable distances. Only blue giants were used for the first

word—to get the cosmic reader's attention—and lesser stellar material made up the others.

The advertisement read: Two Distinguished Constructors Seek Employment Commensurate

with Their Skill and Above All Lucrative, Hence Preferably at the Court of a Well-heeled King

(Should Have His Own Kingdom), Terms to Be Arranged.

The Emissary

It was not long before, one bright morning, a most marvelous craft alighted on their front

lawn. It gleamed in the sun, all inlaid with mother-of-pearl, had three legs intricately carved

and six additional supports of solid gold (quite useless, since they didn't even reach the

ground—but then, the builders obviously had more wealth than they knew what to do with).

Down a magnificent staircase with billowing fountains on either side there came a figure of

stately bearing with a retinue of six-legged machines: some of these massaged him, some

supported him and fanned him, and the smallest flew above his august brow and sprayed it

with eau de cologne from an atomizer. This impressive emissary greeted the constructors on

behalf of his lord and sovereign, King Krool, who wished to engage them.

“What sort of work is it?” asked Trurl, interested.

“The details, gentle sirs, you shall learn at the proper time,” was his reply. He was dressed

in galligaskins of gold, mink-tufted buskins, sequined earmuffs, and a robe of most unusual

cut—instead of pockets it had little shelves full of mints and marzipan. Tiny mechanical flies

also buzzed about his person, and these he brushed away whenever they grew too bold.

“For now,” he went on, “I can only say that His Boundless Kroolty is a great enthusiast of

the hunt, a fearless and peerless conqueror of every sort of galactic fauna, and verily, his

prowess has reached such heights that now the fiercest predators known are ¹longer worthy

game for him. And herein lies our misfortune, for he craves excitement, danger, thrills... which

is why—”

“Of course!” said Trurl. “He wants us to construct a new model of beast, something wild

and rapacious enough to present a challenge.”

“You are, worthy constructor, indeed quick!” said the King's emissary. “Then it is agreed?”

Klapaucius began to question the emissary more closely on certain practical matters. But

after the King's generosity was glowingly described and sufficiently elaborated upon, they

hurriedly packed their things and a few books, ran up the magnificent staircase, hopped on

board and were immediately lifted, with a great roar and burst of flame that blackened the

ship's gold legs, into the interstellar night.

King Krool

As they traveled, the emissary briefed the constructors on the laws and customs prevailing

in the Kingdom of Krool, told them of the monarch's nature, as broad and open as a leveled

city, and of his manly pursuits, and much more, so that by the time the ship landed, they

could speak the language like natives.

First they were taken to a splendid villa situated on a mountainside above the village—this

was where they were to stay.

Then, after a brief rest, the King sent a carriage for them, a carriage drawn by six

fire-breathing monsters. These were muzzled with fire screens and smoke filters, had their

wings clipped to keep them on the ground, and long spiked tails and six paws apiece with iron

claws that cut deep pits in the road wherever they went. As soon as the monsters saw the

constructors, the entire team set up a howl, belching fire and brimstone, and strained to get

at them. The coach men in asbestos armor and the King's huntsmen with hoses and pumps

had to fall upon the crazed creatures and beat them into submission with laser and maser

clubs before Trurl and Klapaucius could safely step into the plush carriage, which they did

without a word. The carriage tore off at breakneck speed or—to use an appropriate

metaphor—like a bat out of hell.

“You know,” Trurl whispered in Klapaucius' ear as they rushed along, knocking down

everything in their path and leaving a long trail of sulfurous smoke behind them, “I have a

feeling that this king won't settle for just anything. I mean, if he has coursers like these...”

But level-headed Klapaucius said nothing. Houses now flashed by, walls of diamonds and

sapphires and silver, while the dragons thundered and hissed and the drivers cursed and

shouted. At last a colossal portcullis loomed up ahead, opened, and their carriage whirled into

the courtyard, careening so sharply that the flower beds all shriveled up, then ground to a

stop before a castle black as blackest night. Welcomed by an unusually dismal fanfare and

quite overwhelmed by the massive stairs, balustrades and especially the stone giants that

guarded the main gate, Trurl and Klapaucius, ranked by a formidable escort, entered the

mighty castle.

King Krool awaited them in an enormous hall the shape of a skull, a vast and vaulted cave

of beaten silver. There was a gaping pit in the floor, the skul1's foramen magnum, and beyond

it stood the throne, over which two streams of light crossed like swords—they came from high

windows fixed in the skull's eye sockets and with panes specially tinted to give everything a

harsh and infernal aspect. The constructors now saw Krool himself: too impatient to sit still on

his throne, this monarch paced from wall to wall across the silver floor, his steps booming in

that cadaverous cavern, and as he spoke he emphasized his words with such sudden stabs of

the hand, that the air whistled.

The Hunting Trophies

“Welcome, constructors!” he said, skewering them both with his eyes. “As you've ¹doubt

learned from Lord Protozor, Master of the Royal Hunt, I want you to build me new and better

kinds of game. Now I'm not interested, you understand, in any mountain of steel on a

hundred-odd treads—that's a job for heavy artillery, not for me. My quarry must be strong and

ferocious, but swift and nimble too, and above all cunning and full of wiles, so that I will have

to call upon all my hunter's art to drive it to the ground. It must be a highly intelligent beast,

and know all there is to know of covering tracks, doubling back, hiding in shadows and lying in

wait, for such is my will!”

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” said Klapaucius with a careful bow, “but if we do Your

Highness' bidding too well, might not this put the royal life and limb in some peril?”

The King roared with such laughter that a couple of crystal pendants fell off a chandelier

and shattered at the feet of the trembling constructors.

“Have ¹fear of that, noble constructors!” he said with a grim smile. “You are not the first,

and you will not be the last, I expect. Know that I am a just but most exacting ruler. Too

often have assorted knaves, flatterers and fakes attempted to deceive me, too often, I say,

have they posed as distinguished hunting engineers, solely to empty my coffers and fill their

sacks with gems and precious stones, leaving me, in return, with a few paltry scarecrows that

fall apart at the first touch. Too often has this happened for me not to take appropriate

measures. For twelve years now any constructor who fails to meet my demands, who

promises more than he is able to deliver, indeed receives his reward, but is hurled, reward and

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