Michael Moorcock - The Blood Red Game

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The Blood Red Game
by Michael MOORCOCK
PROLOGUE
Renark was a wanderer in the galaxy for two years - but he was not lonely. Renark could never be
lonely, for the galaxy was his omnipresent friend and he was aware of its movements. Even the
peculiar control exercised on it by forces, which he could not sense, was as comforting as its
presence. He moved about in it and contained awareness of every atom of it in his long, thin-boned
skull. He wandered purposely through the teeming galaxy for two swift years and then, when ready,
journeyed out towards the Rim...
ONE
The three of them met, at last, in a terrible town called Migaa on the harsh, bright edge of a
wilderness. Both town and planet were called Migaa and it was the Last Chance planet for the
galaxy's fugitives.
Renark disembarked from his cruiser, uncomfortable under the glare of the diamond-bright sun. He
threaded his way through the great looming shapes of a hundred other ships, his mind searching the
town ahead for his two friends. His skilled brain probed the shapes of streets and buildings,
people and objects until at last he had located them, half a mile away on the other side of the
town.
He strode briskly from the spaceport and there were no Customs officers to stop him here. He kept
his friends' forms firmly fixed in his mind as he hurried in their direction. They were agitated
and he guessed they might be in trouble.
People stared at him as he passed a very tall, very gaunt man with deep-set black eyes in a long
skull a brooding face in repose. But they didn't stare at his face - they thought him remarkable
mainly because he wore no apparent weapon. Almost all the men and women who came to Migaa came
hurriedly - but they also came armed.
Only Renark walked purposefully along the metal-paved streets, through the glinting steel
buildings. The others moved aimlessly, wearing dark lenses to ward off the glare of the desert
reflected in the steel and chrome of the buildings. He noted little transport on the streets, and
what there was moved lazily. He thought the town had an exhausted air - yet at the same time it
possessed an atmosphere of expectancy. It was a peculiar mood - and it smothered Migaa.
He noted also a shared quality in the faces of the men and women, a set expression, which tried
vainly to disguise the hope lurking in their eyes. They seemed afraid of hoping, yet evidently
could do nothing else. Migaa - or what Migaa offered - was their last chance. It was Renark's too,
but for other, less selfish, reasons.
When he reached the building where he sensed his two friends were, it wasn't the tavern he'd
expected. This was called The Drift Inn, like hundreds of other taverns throughout the galaxy, but
this one's name had a special significance.
He walked in to find tumult.
A fight was going on. He recognised several, who could be either thieves or spacehands judging by
the white, metal-studded plastileather overalls they wore. They were thick, brutal shouting men
and they were attacking two others, not of their kind.
Renark recognised the pah". Paul Talfryn and young Asquiol of Pompeii, their backs against the far
wall of the noisy, overcrowded public room. For a moment he felt the urge to leave them to it,
confident that they would survive, but then he decided to help them. He wanted them to be as fit
as possible for the forthcoming journey.
As he moved forward, a spacehand, using the whole of his metal-studded body as a weapon launched
himself at Renark. The spacehand had obviously learned his fighting techniques aboard ship or on a
low-gravity planet. Migaa wasn't a low-grav world and the man's method of charging in an attempt
to buffet Renark against the far wall didn't work. Renark skipped aside and the hand blundered
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past. Renark kicked against the base of the man's spine with a pointed boot. The spacehand
collapsed backwards and Renark kicked nun sharply in the head knocking him out.
Swiftly Renark pushed towards his friends.
Talfryn looked almost panic-stricken as he warded off the blows of his attackers, but Asquiol -
flamboyant, grinning and vicious - was enjoying himself. A set of knuckle-spikes gleamed on his
right fist, and there was blood on them. One of Asquiol's opponents blundered back into Renark,
clutching at a bleeding eye-socket.
'We're wasting time!' Renark shouted as the others saw him.
He moved into the crowd, pulling the tumbling spacemen aside with his large, ugly hands. Together,
Talfryn and Asquiol punched their way towards him.
A growling giant swung a pocket-mace at Asquiol who ducked, crouched, then shot out his spike-
covered fist deep into the spacehand's belly. The giant shrieked and the mace dropped from his
hand as he fell to his knees.
The trio burst from the tavern and ran up a narrow side street until they saw the spacehands
abandon the chase, shouting catcalls from behind them. They turned into an alley, running between
the backs of the buildings, their boots ringing on the metal.
'Which way to the Salvation Inn?' Renark said.
'Thanks for breaking that up,' Asquiol grinned. 'I thought you Guide Sensers could tell where
anything was. It's this way. Not far.'
Renark didn't bother to use his space sensing ability. The image of what he had done to the
spacehand was still sharp in his mind. He didn't like violence.
Asquiol led them back on to a main way. As they walked, Talfryn turned to Renark, his expression
embarrassed.
'Sorry about that,' he said. 'Those hands were looking for trouble. They picked on Asquiol because
of his clothes. We had to fight. We managed to avoid a dozen others, but couldn't get out of this
one. The whole damned town's the same - tense, nervous, impatient.'
'I'm afraid I encouraged them,' Asquiol said. 'Really, one can't have one's dress insulted by such
a vulgar breed!' He collapsed his knuckle-spikes and put them away.
Lonely and time-begrimed for all his youth, Asquiol dressed with careful flamboyance. He wore a
high-collared, quilted jacket of orange ny-fur and tight slacks of purple stuff, which fitted over
his pointed, fibreglass boots. His face was pale and tapering, his black hair cut short in a
fringe over his forehead. He carried a slender, anti-neutron beamer - an outlawed weapon.
Asquiol had once been a prince - independent Overlord of Pompeii, before the Galactic Lords
enforced their powers and brought the planet into the Union.
Renark remembered that Asquiol had lost his title and estates for protecting him, and he was
grateful.
He noticed that the younger man had lapsed into a brooding mood. It was his usual reaction and
because of it many people thought him unbalanced, though Renark knew that Asquiol was the very
opposite. His was a fine, delicate balance which only his will maintained.
Talfryn, lean-faced like his two friends, sensitive and bearded, was an unlicensed explorer and
therefore a criminal. He was dressed conservatively - sleeveless jerkin of unstained hide, blue
shirt and black trousers. He carried a heavy power-gun. He looked curiously at Renark, but since
he said nothing Renark remained silent.
Then he smiled. His thin, grim lips quirked upwards and he straightened his back, turning his long
head and looking hard at Talfryn.
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Talfryn seemed disturbed by the look, and felt obliged to speak, so he said: 'When do we leave?
I'm impatient to get started.'
Renark did not respond for a moment, and just kept looking.
Talfryn said: 'I can't wait.'
'I'm not sure yet,' Renark said.
As they reached the tall, many-windowed structure of the Salvation Inn, on the edge of town,
Talfryn said to Renark: 'You told us we were wasting time back there. How much time have we,
roughly?'
'Maximum, thirty-six hours,' the Guide Senser replied.
Asquiol looked up, startled out of his mood. He seemed troubled. 'Is that all?'
'That's all - probably less. I can feel it coming closer to this continuum all the time, but it's
difficult to keep a fix on it always. It takes most of my energy.'
They entered the wide, high-roofed public hall of the Salvation Inn. Asquiol looked around him,
seeking someone in the crowd, but was disappointed. The huge windows, which stretched up one high
wall lighted several tiered galleries and looked out on to the bright black and white carbon
desert of the planet.
They pushed through the crowd of men and women of many types. There were richly clad men; ragged
men; men who drank heavily and men who sipped at a single drink; vociferous men and quiet men.
Here, as in the rest of the town, there was an air of tired, tense expectancy - an atmosphere,
which had lasted, this era, for thirty-seven years. All the residents glanced often at the big
scanner screens suspended in the middle of the hall.
The screens would come to life only on particular occasions - when what they awaited entered the
area of space on which they were always focused. When that happened - if it happened - there would
be a rush for the spaceport and Migaa would be deserted again. Some people had been waiting in
Migaa for over thirty years; others had died before their chance came.
The three climbed a narrow, winding stair until they reached a gallery occupied by a table and
three chairs. They sat down.
'I had this reserved,' Asquiol said as he craned his neck to look down into the public hall.
Renark looked at him quizzically. 'I'm having the ship checked and re-checked,' he said. 'It's got
to be ready very soon. The Snifter could materialise well before the maximum thirty-six hours I
mentioned. Though it shouldn't be here for another twelve hours - judging by the rate it's been
moving towards us since I contacted it twenty days ago.'
Renark paused, staring out across the terrible desert, screwing his eyes against the glare, which
penetrated even the polaroid windows.
'We've got to be ready,' he said. 'I can't tell how long it will remain in this continuum. There's
also the possibility that it will go through the continuum at speed and we won't have a chance to
get there before it travels on.'
'So we could have come to Migaa for nothing,' Talfryn shrugged. 'Well, my tune's my own.'
'Mine isn't,' Renark said - but he didn't expand on that remark.
He was the only man in the entire galaxy capable of knowing when the Shifter System would
materialise. Others who came to Migaa took the chance that the bizarre, continuum-travelling
system would appear in the space-time during their own life, but it was a gamble. This was the
only reason Migaa existed, built on the nearest halfway, habitable planet to where the Shifter
would materialise. So the outlawed and the damned, the searching and the hunted came to Migaa when
there was nowhere else to go. And they waited.
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Renark knew he did not need to wait, for he was a Guide Senser with a peculiar instinct, developed
to the level of a science. He could locate, given only the vaguest direction and description,
anything in the galaxy, whether it was a planet or a lost penny.
Needing no maps or co-ordinates, he could lead a person anywhere they wanted to go. He was a human
direction-finder, and because of this he knew the Shifter was coming closer, for he had trained
himself to see past his own space and out into other dimensions lying beyond, where there seemed
to be hazy ghosts of planets - and suns almost, but not quite - like his own.
He had trained himself to see them, to prove a theory concerning the nature of the weird Shifter
System which had been known to materialise - just suddenly appear in space and then vanish again
without trace - only five times since mankind had reached the rim.
Little else was generally known about it.
The few explorers and scientists who had managed to reach the Shifter before it vanished again had
not returned. It was impossible to say how long it would stay at any one time. The mystery system
seemed to have a wildly erratic orbit, and Renark's theory that it moved on a course different
from the rest of the universe - a kind of sideways movement - had been postulated years before
when, as Warden of the Rim Worlds, he had been given the responsibility of sensing it - as he
sensed the world and suns within his own continuum.
The time of the Shifter's stay varied between a few hours and a few days. It was never certain
when it would appear or disappear. The desperate men who came to Migaa were optimists, hoping
against hope that they would have the luck to be there when the Shifter arrived.
Though the Shifter received its title from Renark's own theory, it had several other names - Ghost
System was a popular one - and certain religious-minded people ascribed some more dramatic
significance to the system, declaiming that it had been cast from the universe for some sin its
inhabitants had committed. These fanatics also had a name for the system - the Sundered Worlds.
And so a whole framework of myth had developed around the system, but very few dared investigate
it for fear of being stranded. For the most part only criminals were willing to take the risk.
Renark stared down at the seething public hall. The Galactic Union's government machinery was near
perfect, its institutions difficult to abuse. This meant they could allow a greater degree of
personal freedom for their citizens. But, because the government worked so well, criminals were
hard put to escape the Union's laws. Migaa was their only hope. From Migaa they had the chance of
escaping right out of the universe - unless the Galactic Police - the Geepees - made one of their
sudden swoops on the town. For the most part the Geepees were content to leave well alone, but
sometimes they hunted a criminal when he possessed some particular item or piece of information
which they wanted. Then, if he eluded them long enough, they would come to Migaa looking for him.
Renark knew the Gee-lords sought him, that Lord Mordan, Captain in Chief of the Galactic Police,
had his men scouring the galaxy for him. He wondered how long it would be before Mordan thought of
Migaa.
Asquiol put his head in his hands and stared at Renark.
'Isn't it time we had your reasons for this trip, Renark?' He turned his head and searched among
the crowd below. 'What made you quit your position as Rim Warden? Why wouldn't you tell the Gee-
lords what you learned from that strange spaceship which landed on Golund three years ago? And why
the passion to visit the Shifter?'
'I don't want to answer yet,' Renark told him. 'In fairness I should, but if I did it would give
rise to further questions I can't possibly answer yet. All I can tell you right now is what you've
guessed - I've been waiting three years to get to the Shifter, ever since I learned something of
great importance from the crew of that spaceship on Golund. What they told me indirectly caused me
to resign as Warden. As for the answers I don't have - I hope the Shifter will give me them.'
'We're your friends, Renark.' Talryn said, 'and we're willing to go with you for that reason
alone. But if you don't find the answers you want out there, will you answer the original
questions?'
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'There'll be nothing to lose if I do,' Renark agreed. 'But if you decide you don't want to come,
then say so now. It's dangerous, we know that much. We might perish before we even reach the
Shifter, and once there we may never be able to return.'
Both men moved uncomfortably but said nothing.
Renark continued: 'I owe you both debts of friendship. You, Paul, helped me in my research on
variable time flows and were responsible for finally crystallizing my theory. Asquiol saved me
from the attentions of that police patrol on Pompeii, sheltered me for six months and, when the
Gee-lords found out, was forced, under the terms of his agreement, to give up his birthright. You
have both made big sacrifices on my behalf.'
'I'm curious enough, anyway, to explore the Ghost System,' smiled Talfryn, 'and Asquiol has
nothing to keep him here unless it's his new-found attraction for Willow Kovacs.'
Willow owned the Salvation Inn. She was reputed to be beautiful.
Asquiol appeared displeased, but he only shrugged and smiled faintly. 'You're right, Talfryn - if
tactless. But don't worry, I'll still go when the time comes.'
'Good.' said Renark.
A woman came up the narrow stair leading to the gallery.
She moved in full knowledge of her slim beauty and her lips were curved in a soft smile. She was
wearing the spoils of her conquests - her emerald-coloured dress was covered with jewels mined on
a thousand planets. They flashed brightly, challenging the very brilliance of the desert. Her
hands, heavy with rings, held a tray of hot food.
As she reached the table, Asquiol looked up at her and took the tray, making sure he touched her
hands as he did so.
'Thanks,' she said. 'And hello - you must be the famous Warden Renark."
'Ex-Warden,' he said. 'And you're the young woman who has so disturbed our proud friend here.'
She didn't reply to that.
'Eat well, gentlemen,' she said, then returned down the staircase. 'We'll meet later, Asquiol,'
she called over her shoulder as she made her way across the crowded floor of the great tavern.
Renark felt slightly troubled by this new intrusion. He hadn't been prepared for it. Although his
loyalty to both his friends was great, he wanted Asquiol on the trip much more than he wanted
Talfryn.
Asquiol was young, reckless, inclined to vindictive acts of cruelty at times; he was arrogant and
selfish and yet he had a core of integrated strength which was hard to equate with his outward
appearance.
But a woman. A woman could either complement that strength or destroy it. And Renark wasn't sure
about Willow Kovacs.
Philosophically, and for the moment, Renark accepted the situation and turned his mind to the
problem in hand.
'I think we should give the ship another check,' he suggested when they had eaten. 'Shall we go
out to the pads now?'
Talfryn agreed, but Asquiol said: 'I'll stay here. I'll either join you out there or see you when
you return. How long will you be?'
'I've no idea,' Renark said, rising. 'But stay here so that we can contact you if necessary.'
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Asquiol nodded. 'Don't worry - I wasn't thinking of leaving the inn.'
Renark restrained an urge to tell Asquiol to be, wary, but the Guide Senser respected his friend -
it was up to the Prince of Pompeii to conduct his own affairs without advice.
Renark and Talfryn walked down the stairs, pushed their way through the throng and made for the
door.
Outside there was a buzz of excited conversation. The two men caught some of it as they walked
along the metal-paved streets.
'It seems there's a rumour that the Geepees are on their way in,' Talfryn said worriedly.
Renark's face was grim. 'Let's hope they don't get here before the Shifter.'
Talfryn glanced at him. 'Are they after you?'
'They've been after me for three years. Oh, it's not for any crime. But the Gee-lords came to the
conclusion that I might know something of use to them and have been trying to get hold of me.'
'And do you know something of use to them?'
'I know something,' Renark nodded, 'but it's in their interest and mine that they don't find out
about it.'
'That's part of your secret?'
Tart of the secret,' Renark agreed. 'Don't worry - if we reach the Shifter, I'll let you know it,
for better or worse.'
He let his mind reach out into the void beyond the Rim. It was out there, coming closer. He could
sense it. His mind trembled. He felt physically sick.
It was so wrong - wrong!
Implacably, the impossible system was shifting in. Would it stay long enough for them to get to
it? And could they reach it? If only he knew a little more about it. It was a big gamble he was
taking and there was just a shin chance of it paying off.
Only he knew what was at stake. That knowledge was a burden he had had to strengthen himself to
bear. Most men could not have done so.
As he walked along, glancing at the wretches who had so hopefully come to Migaa, he wondered if it
was worth the attempt after all. But he shrugged to himself. You had to accept that it was worth
it, he told himself.
There were none there who might have been properly described as extra-terrestrials. One of the
discoveries Man had made when settling the galaxy was that he represented the only highly-
developed, intelligent life-form. There were other types of animal life, but Earth, throughout the
galaxy, had been the only planet to bear a beast that could reason and invent. This was an
accepted thing amongst most people, but philosophers still wondered and marvelled and there were
many theories to explain the fact.
Two years previously Renark had suddenly resigned from his position as Warden of the Rim Worlds.
It had been an important position and his resignation had given rise to speculation and gossip.
The visit of an alien spaceship, supposedly an intergalactic craft, had not been admitted by the
Galactic Lords. When pressed for information they had replied ambiguously. Only Renark had seen
the aliens, spent much time with them.
He had given no explanation to the Gee-lords and even now they still sought him out, trying to
persuade him to take over a job which he had done responsibly and imaginatively. Space-sensers
were rare, rarer even than other psi-talents - and a Guide Senser of Renark's stature was that
much rarer. There were only a few G.S. men in the entire galaxy and their talents were in demand.
For the most part they acted as pilots and guides on difficult runs through hyper-space, keeping,
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as it were, an anchor to the mainland and giving ships exact directions how, where and when to
enter normal space. They were also employed on mapping the galaxy and any changes which occurred
in it. They were invaluable to a complicated, galaxy-travelling civilisation.
So the Gee-lords had begged Renark to remain Warden of the Rim even if he would not tell them who
the visitors to Golund had been. But he had refused, and two years had been spent in collecting a
special knowledge of what little information was known about the Shifter. In the end they had
resorted to sending the Geepees after him, but with the help of Talfryn and Asquiol he had so far
evaded them. He prayed they wouldn't come to Migaa before the Shifter materialised.
Renark had fitted his ship with the best equipment and instruments available.
This equipment, in his eyes, included the dynamic, if erratic, Asquiol and the easy-going Paul
Talfryn. Both had helped him in the past because they admired him. He, in turn, responded to the
sense of loyalty for them that he felt - and knew he could work best with these two men.
Several hundred ships were clustered in the spaceport. Many had been there for years, but all of
them were kept in constant readiness for the time when the Shifter might be sighted.
Certain ships had been there for a century or more, their original owners having died,
disappointed and frustrated, never having achieved their goal.
Renark's great spacer was a converted Police Cruiser which he had bought cheaply - and illegally -
rebuilt and re-equipped. It could be ready for take-off in half a minute. It was also heavily
armed. It was against the law to own a police ship and also to own an armed private vessel. The
Union owned and leased all commercial craft.
The spacer required no crew. It was fully automatic and had room for thirty passengers. Already,
since landing, Renark had been pestered by people offering huge sums to guarantee them passage to
the Shifter, but he had refused. Renark had little sympathy for most of those who gathered in
Migaa. They would have received more mercy from the enlightened Legal Code, of which the Union was
justly proud, than from Renark of the Rim.
Although Migaa itself was thick with criminals of all kinds, there were few in relation to the
huge human population of the galaxy. For nearly two centuries the galaxy had been completely at
peace, although the price of peace had, in the past, been a rigid and authoritarian rule which
had, in the last century, thawed into the liberal government which now had been elected to serve
the galaxy.
Renark had no hatred for the Union which pestered him. He had served it loyally until he had
acquired that certain knowledge which he had withheld from the Galactic Lords. They had asked many
times for the information he possessed, but he had refused; and he was cautious, also, never to
let his whereabouts be known.
He glanced up into the blazing white sky as if expecting to see a Geese patrol falling down upon
them.
Slowly, the two men walked across the pad towards the cruiser.
Mechanics were at work on Renark's ship. They had long since completed their initial check and
found the ship completely spaceworthy. But Renark had not been satisfied. Now they checked again.
Renark and Talfryn entered the elevator and it took them into the centre of the ship, to the
control cabin.
Talfryn looked admiringly around the well-equipped cabin. He had the scientist's eye that could
appreciate the ingenuity, the skill, the energy, the pure passion which had gone into its
construction.
Once, a year before, Renark had said in a talkative moment: Take note of these instruments,
Talfryn - they represent man's salvation. They represent the power of the mind to supersede the
limitations of its environment, the power of every individual man to control, for the first time,
his own destiny.'
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Renark hadn't been referring to his own particular instruments and Talfryn knew that.
Now, Talfryn thought, the mystique attached to science had made it at once a monster and a
salvation. People believed it capable of anything, because they had no idea any more what it was.
And they tended to think the worst of it.
More men like Renark were needed - men who could not take the simple workings of a turbine for
granted, yet, at the same time, could take the whole realm of science for granted.
Just then another thought occurred to Talfryn - a thought more immediately applicable to their
present situation. He said:
'How do we know that our drive - or any of our other instruments - will work in the Shifter,
Renark?' He paused, looking around him at the tall, heaped banks of instruments. 'If, as you think
might be possible, different laws of space and time apply, then we may find ourselves completely
stranded in the Shifter's area of space - cut adrift without control over the ship.'
'I admit we don't know whether our instruments will work out there,' Renark agreed, 'but I'm
prepared to risk the fact that we may share certain laws with the Shifter. Maybe I'll be able to
tell when it's closer, but my judgment won't be infallible.'
As a space senser, Renark needed no equipment to heighten his powers, but he did need to
concentrate, and he therefore used an energy-charger, a machine which replaced natural, nervous
and mental energy as it was expended and could, if used wisely, give a man an extra boost if he
needed it especially. It was equipment normally only issued to hospitals.
Now, as Talfryn studied the recordings which had been made of the Shifter and became increasingly
puzzled, Renark got into a comfortably padded chair and attached electrodes to his forehead, his
chest and other parts of his body. He held a stylus and a plastic writing block on the small ledge
in front of him.
Calmly, he switched on the machine.
TWO
Renark concentrated.
He could feel the presence of the galaxy, spreading Inwards from his own point in space; layer
upon layer of it, time upon time.
He was aware of the galaxy as a whole and at the same time felt the presence of each individual
atom in its structure - each atom, each planet, each star, nova and nebula. Thorough space, where
matter was of minimum density, little cores of denser matter moved. Spaceships.
Faintly, beyond the limits of his own galaxy, he sensed the lesser density of intergalactic space,
and beyond that he picked up faraway impressions of other galaxies.
There was nothing unpleasant happening out there - something he already knew about. Something he
was pledged to alter.
Then he adjusted his mind so that, instead of sensing the components of the galaxy, he sensed it
as a whole. He widened his reception to take in a small area beyond the galaxy and immediately the
entire structure of time and space, as he knew it, was flawed.
There was something there that was alien - something that did not fit. It was as if a body had
moved through that small area and had torn a hole in the very fabric of the universe. His mind and
body trembled as he sought to adjust, as previously, to his new, unnatural factor. It was a binary
star with eleven planets equidistantly encircling it.
It did not exist. Not in relation to the universe Renark knew. He could make no close assessment
of its components - as yet. It was wrong! Renark controlled his mind against the thought and
concentrated on judging the system's progress. It was, in relation to itself, travelling through
space in the same manner as ordinary stars and planets travelled. But it also travelled through a
series of dimensions of which Renark had no experience whatsoever. And its course, its orbits
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through the dimensions was bringing it closer to Renark's own continuum.
He opened his eyes, gasping.
Quickly, he jotted down an equation; closed his eyes and re-adjusted his mind.
It continued towards them. It shifted through myriad alien dimensions, moving through a whole
series of continua, progressing imperturbably onwards in an orbit as constant as the orbits of its
planets about its stars. Soon now it would be passing through Renark's continua.
But how long would it stay there? Renark could not tell without knowing a little of the universes
which lay beyond his own - and of these he had much to find out. His future plans depended on it.
In less than twenty minutes, Renark was finished. He looked over Talfryn's shoulder at the
records.
'She's coming closer,' he said. 'Between twelve to fifteen hours and shell be here. That's if my
calculations are right. I think they are. As far as I can tell, she's travelling at a regular
rate. I can't explain why the periods spent in this continuum have varied so much, though, if her
speed is as constant as it seems to be.'
'Well, you've narrowed it, anyway.' Talfryn's body seemed to tense.
'Yes.' Renark moved about the control room reading gauges.
'And you're certain it won't miss this space-time altogether?'
'That's possible - but unlikely.'
Renark stared at a bank of gauges for a moment and then he moved towards a chrome and velvet chair
which had a whole bank of levers and switches in front of it, a laser-screen above it. This was
the gunnery control panel.
Again he began to move uneasily about the great cabin. Again he volunteered a suggestion.
'We don't know all the directions in which our own universe moves,' he said. 'It may also, for all
we know, have a "sideways" movement through the dimensions at an angle different from the Shifter.
This would explain to some extent any inconsistency in the length of time the system stays in our
space-time continuum.'
Talfryn shook his head. 'I've never been able to grasp any of those theories about the system. I
don't even understand your ability to sense its approach. I know that, with training, space
sensers can locate planets and even smaller bodies in normal space-time, but I wasn't aware that
they could sense things outside, beyond, in different dimensions - wherever it is.'
'Normally they can't,' Renark said, 'but many who have probed the perimeter of space outside the
galaxy have mentioned that they have sensed something else, something not in keeping with any
recognised natural laws. Others have had the illusion of sensing suns and worlds within the galaxy
- where suns and worlds just can't be! This has given rise to the theory of the "multi-verse", the
multi-dimensional universe containing dozens of different universes, separated from each other by
unknown dimensions...'
He paused. How could he explain in calm, logical words the sense of apartness, of alienness, he
had received? How could he describe that shock, that experience which contradicted all he accepted
with every sense he possessed, something that struck at the id, the ego, the emotions -
everything?
He opened his mouth, trying to find words. But the words did not exist. The nearest way of
expressing what he felt was to give vent to a shout of horror, agony - triumph. He didn't feel
inclined to try.
So he shut his mouth and continued to pace the cabin, running his ugly hand over the firing arm of
the big anti-neutron gun which had never been used. It was a savage weapon and he hoped there
would never be need to use it.
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Nuclear weapons of any sort made him uncomfortable. His strange sixth sense was as aware of the
disruption of atoms as it was of their presence in natural state. It was an experience close to
agony to sense the disruptive blast of atomic weapons. The anti-neutron cannon, beaming particles
of anti-matter, was an even more terrible experience for him.
Once, as a child, he had been close to the area of a multi-megaton bomb explosion and his whole
mind had blanked out under the strain of the experience. It had taken doctors a year to pull him
back to sanity. Now he was stronger, better co-ordinated - but it was still not pleasant to be in
a space flight.
Also, he loathed violence, considering it was the easy way out and, like many easy ways out, not a
way out at all but only continuation of a vicious circle. So whenever possible he avoided it.
However, he was prepared, in this case, to use it - if it meant using it against anything in the
Shifter which attempted to stop him in his avowed objective.
Renark had geared himself to drive towards one aim, and one only. Already he was driving towards
it and nothing - nobody - would stop him. He was dedicated, he was fanatical - but he was going to
get results if that was possible. If it wasn't possible, then he'd die trying to make it possible.
Soon, now - very soon - the Shifter would enter their area of space. He was going there. The
Shifter offered the only chance in the universe of supplying him with the information he needed.
He glanced back at Talfryn, who was still studying the records.
'Any clearer?' he asked.
Talfryn shook his head and grinned.
'I can just understand how the Shifter orbits through dimensions hitherto unknown to us, in the
same way as we orbit through time and space, but the implications are too big for me. I'm
bewildered. I'm no physicist.'
'Neither am I,' Renark pointed out. 'If I were I might not be so affected by the Shifter. For
instance, there's something peculiar about any system comprised of a G-type binary star and eleven
planets all equidistant from it - something almost artificial. If it is artificial - how did it
happen?'
'Maybe it's the other way about,' Talfryn suggested vaguely. 'Maybe the planets all being the same
distance away from the parent suns has something to do with the peculiar nature of the system. If
they area natural freak, could this have caused the Shifter's orbit?'
Renark nodded. He thought for a moment before he said:
'If you take for granted that Time is cyclic in accordance with the other known laws of the
universe - although, as you well know, my own experiments seem to prove that there is more than
one particular time flow operating in our own universe - if you take that for granted, however, we
can describe the rest by means of circles.'
He walked to the chair where he had left his stylus and pad, picked them up and moved over the
chart table.
'The Shifter orbits this way' - he drew a circle - 'whereas we progress this way.' He drew a half-
circle cutting horizontally through the first circle.
'Imagine that we have a finite number of space-time continua each with some mutually shared laws.'
He drew a number of other half-circles below and above the first. They're all, like us, travelling
this way. There is no contact between us but we exist side by side without being aware of each
other's presence, all revolving in different sets of dimensions.'
Talfryn nodded.
'Imagine that the normal continua, as we understand the word normal, are orbiting horizontally, as
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file:///G|/rah/Michael%20Moorcock/Michael%20Moorcock%20-%20The%20Blood%2Red%20Game.txtTheBloodRedGamebyMichaelMOORCOCKPROLOGUERenarkwasawandererinthegalaxyfortwoyears-buthewasnotlonely.Renarkcouldneverbelonely,forthegalaxywashisomnipresentfriendandhewasawareofitsmovements.Eventhepeculiarcontrolexercisedonitbyforces,whichhecouldnotsense,wasascomfortingasitspresence.Hemovedaboutinitandcontainedawarenessofeveryatomofitinhislong,thin-bonedskull.Hewanderedpurposelythroughtheteeminggalaxyfortwos...

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