Free Mazes of Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers

life—”
    “If we have, you would do well to think that perhaps those thousands of years are not to be devoted to Kregen alone.”
    I felt shattered.
    Then a thought came to me that might be connected.
    I said, “You told me that the Savanti objected to what the Curshin did on Kregen—”
    “Stop, Dray Prescot!”
    The voice almost knocked me over with its power.
    “You are a rogue, a miscreant, a man with a charisma that can rouse whole nations to do your will and bidding with joy and gladness. But you may not speak of things that you cannot understand. We told you there are Others of whom we do not speak. The Curshin are not of these. But you do not speak of them.”
    Somehow, I managed to keep my mouth shut.
    The Star Lords went on speaking.
    “There are forces driving on the Shanks, as we have told you, obvious forces. But there are Powers that drive on the forces that impel those that drive the Shanks. In these things, Dray Prescot, you may not meddle.”
    I burst out: “By Vox! I don’t want to meddle in any of it! I just want to get the business finished!”
    “And that is your task to perform. If you do it well, you may remain on Kregen.”
    “I’ll do it,” I raged. “By the disgusting diseased left nostril of Makki Grodno! I’ll do it or get chopped in the doing — as you damned well know!”
    “We know, Dray Prescot. We know. And — we know far more than you think we know of yourself; because you do not understand yourself at all.”
    By Zair! That was true — confound it...
    The arms of the chair began to writhe up. I guessed there was to be an end to this audience. I got a deep lungful of air and said in my old harsh way, “How long do we have before that enormous fleet of Shanks reaches us? And, where will they touch land?”
    “As to the latter — that you must wait and see. As to the former—” Here the arms clamped me tightly. “You have a few seasons yet.”
    “Enough to—?”
    “Enough to do what you want to do, what you know you must do. When the time is nearer, we will call on you again — if we do not call on you before that.”
    Was there that incongruous note of laughter that I have likened to the last bubble in a forgotten glass of champagne? The Star Lords, were they laughing at me?
    The chair gripped me. The blackness swirled. All the stars of the galaxy went around in my head and Seg said, “Here, my old dom, catch hold of this bread, will you. The soup is almost done.”

Chapter seven
    Into Pandahem
    The pursuit continued all through the night.
    The Moons of Kregen sailed majestically overhead, the stars massed into a pervasive glitter that reminded me uncomfortably of the spanning star-glitter in that crimson curved chamber, and Seg and I in comradely fashion took watch turn and turn about.
    As we both half expected, the fleeing voller swung sharp left-handed after passing the northern coast of Hamal. She fleeted westward. Here we were practically on the Equator.
    “Pandahem,” said Seg. “Has to be.”
    “I agree. So there’s no wager there.”
    Seg screwed up his face.
    Our voller was making a speed equivalent to just under eighty miles an hour, a pretty fast clip for an airboat, but slow in comparison with some of the swift vollers in existence. We continued to head due west. Seg sniffed the breeze, and looked around from south to north.
    Then he said, “No wager on Pandahem, that is true. But a wager on which part?” He laughed, his fey blue eyes very merry. “And any loon would suggest we are making for the southern half, I’ll wager you we’re headed for the northern.”
    That thought had been in my mind.
    “Very well. I had a hankering for the north. They’ll turn north, probably, and aim to bypass the Koroles. A due northwest course would suit them. So, I’ll wager on the south.”
    “A gold double-talen?”
    I nodded.
    “Done.”
    Past Skull Bay and due west over the sea fleeted the voller. The day passed. We saw no signs of any other aerial