The Shores of Death by Michael Moorcock Read Free Book Online Page A

good telepath? Volunteers to try and make contact with these people!”
    Four voices answered affirmatively, and four aircars moved towards where Clovis hovered close to the aliens at their eye-level. In one of the cars was dark-faced Andros Aimer whom Clovis recognised as Fastina’s ex-lover. He nodded to him and then spoke to all of them. As well as Aimer, there was a thin, fresh-faced girl, a bulky man in a green quilted coat with pale features, and a young man in a flamboyant hat and flaming red jacket.
    “Presumably these people wish to communicate with us and won’t resent any attempt to make telepathic contact. We don’t know, of course, if they know about telepathy, but if they’re as advanced as they seem, they’ll probably understand its principal. One at a time, I want you to attempt a tentative contact, see what results we get. He pointed at the girl. “Would you like to begin?”
    She nodded. “ I need a mild trance—so don’t be alarmed. I’ll try one of the females—there’s probably a better chance.”
    The aliens watched with interest as the girl stared hard at the tallest female. They watched as the girl’s eyes seemed to go out of focus and then close. She sat rigidly by the side of her car, her lips moving a little. Clovis switched his attention to the alien female. Her crest rose stiffly and her tail feathers rustled. Evidently the girl was having some sort of success.
    The girl began to speak at the same moment as the alien closed her own eyes.
    “It’s strange—strange ...” her voice sounded distant. “ Reds and blacks — stars — pleasure — curiosity — love, is is it} Huge butterflies of gold and green, waves of purple, memory of fear, reds and blacks, reds and blacks ... golden butterflies.. .globes — blue — no, not blue, not blue —it must be blue ... Shafts of indigo fire, yellow men with bright features—A PICTURE, that was a picture — no, I lost it—more colours, mingling colours, like paint swirling across space — hope, tension, excitement, pleasure, curiosity, joy—lilac seas ...”
    Aimer spoke to Clovis. “With due respect, Clovis, this isn’t helping much. The young lady is obviously mainly sensitive to colour-impressions and emotions. The emotions are probably linked with the colours, at that. We need a more logical mind—more objective—someone able to link words and ideas together and get an inkling of their language. Once we’ve got the basics of the language we can let the computers take over and we’ll be able to converse in a few hours.”
    “I agree,” said Clovis, but instead of letting Aimer try, he gestured at the bulky man. “Would you like to attempt contact now—perhaps with a male?”
    The bulky man nodded. He stared hard at one of the males. The male stared back into his eyes. The alien seemed to get an idea of what was happening and seemed ready to co-operate.
    The bulky man spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone, although his voice had something of an edge to it.
    “It’s very odd. I’m getting patterns, mainly. Geometric patterns in sharp colours—triangles and circles—now some sort of pentagram—there’s an idea of machinery there, too—big machinery—some huge ship, perhaps— bigger than the one they came in—a planet—yes, a planet and a vast machine I think.”
    Aimer said pettishly. “Why don’t you let me try, Clovis—I’m sure I could get something more positive than this.”
    Clovis remained obstinate. He nodded towards the young man. “You try now—try the same male.”
    The boy moved his aircar in as the bulky man moved his out. He, too, stared into the tall alien’s eyes.
    “I can see what he meant—geometric patterns on an enormous scale—possible they’re numerals—an equation of some kind? And a planet—and machinery—and —is that our galaxy? Yes, I think so—and from the way it’s seen, I’d say they’re from the invading galaxy.
    But now there’s a sense of really big