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Sky Pirates of Callisto -
Jandar 03
Lin Carter
Book I
VOYAGE INTO PERIL
Chapter 1
ONE CHANCE IN A THOUSAND
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 When all is lost, the most foolhardy course of action becomes feasible.
When you have nothing more to lose-except, possibly, your life-even one chance in a thousand seems
well worth the risk.
It was thus that we resolved upon the most absurdly dangerous solution to our intolerable dilemma.
It had been a year, perhaps a trifle more or a trifle less, since I had stumbled upon the Lost City of
Arangkhor, abandoned untold ages before in the trackless jungles ofCambodia . In that colossal stone
ruin I had passed the portals of the Gate Between The Worlds. An unknown force, whose secret was
still an unsolved mystery to me, had miraculously transported me more than three hundred million miles
from the planet of my birth to the surface of a strange and beautiful and terrifying world of marvels and
monsters-a world where black and crimson jungles sprawl under weird skies of golden vapor, lit by five
glorious moons.
It was a world of barbaric splendor, that world of Thanator, where savage beasts and curious peoples
vied for supremacy. Three widely different races of intelligent beings shared this jungle Moon between
them -three races locked in unending warfare.
Into the very midst of this planet-wide struggle, a mysterious force had thrust me, lone, friendless,
ignorant even of the tongue spoken by the strange Thanatorian civilizations.
The first of the Thanatorian races I encountered in my travels was not even remotely human-a savage,
merciless, warrior horde of monstrous and emotionless arthopodes called the Yathoon. Not unlike tall,
jointed insectoid beings were they, their gaunt yet graceful limbs clad in shiny grey chitin, their
expressionless faces glistening masks of horn crowned by weird antennae and eyed with huge jewel-like
orbs, black and glittering.
By these inhuman creatures I was enslaved and under their emotionless tutelage I mastered the single
language spoken by all intelligent beings across the face of Thanator.
While a slave of the Yathoon Horde, I made my first friend on the jungle world-Koja, the tall, stalking,
coldly logical chieftain of the Yathoon, who did not even comprehend the meaning of friendship until I
taught him the sentiment. And, as well, while a Yathoon slave, I met and came to love the most beautiful
woman in two worlds-Darloona, warrior princess of the Ku Thad.
Escaping by Koja’s aid from our slavery, we were again made prisoners, this time by yet another
mysterious people, the Sky Pirates of Zanadar. Humanoid in very truth were the Sky Pirates, sharing the
worst traits of mankind; these cruel aerial corsairs lived like vampires, preying upon the lesser peoples of
Thanator, who lacked their scientific mastery of the skies.
During the months of my captivity, first by the Yathoon and then by the Zanadarians, I learned something
of the recent events which had transformed the jungle world to a gigantic theatre of war. Darloona’s folk,
the Ku Thad, or Golden People-so-called from their tawny amber skin which was not unlike that of the
Polynesian peoples of my own world-had been driven from their home in the walled stone city of
Shondakor and all their domain had been conquered by a migrant bandit army called the Black Legion.
Whereas Koja and I became mere slave laborers, toiling under the whips of the Sky Pirates, the
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 Princess Darloona was held as a valued guest of Prince Thuton, the brilliant and unscrupulous leader of
the Zanadarians. Ambitious to extend his empire, Thuton dreamed of wedding the princess End of
pressing his claim to her throne by waging war against the Black Legion, now ruling
thekingdomofShondakor . Half-persuaded that to accept Thuton’s suit would win freedom for her exiled
people, Darloona would not listen to my protestations of Thuton’s innate villainy. At length I managed to
escape the slave pens of Zanadar, finding refuge in the house of a Ganatolian master-swordsman named
Lukor. This gallant and chivalrous old gentleman, revolted by Thuton’s villainy as was I, became my
co-conspirator in an attempt to free Princess Darloona as well as the Yathoon chieftain, Koja. During this
period of enforced inactivity, I learned from Lukor the secrets of swordsmanship.
After some time we did indeed rescue the woman I had come to love, and my friend Koja, as well; and
traveled the breadth of Thanator in a stolen aerial vehicle, eventually rejoining Darloona’s exiled people
who were hiding in the jungles of the Grand Kumala. Alas, my princess was captured by the Black
Legion ere we had combined forces with the Ku Thad warriors-whereupon I conceived of a bold and
daring plan, entering Shondakor in disguise and joining the ranks of the Chac Yuul (as the Legion was
called), pretending to be a wandering mercenary swordsman. A carefully timed plot to free Darloona
from the clutches of the conquering Legion and overthrow the Chac Yuul by smuggling Ku Thad warriors
into the city via a secret route was interrupted and almost ruined by a sudden attack upon Shondakor by
Prince Thuton’s flying navy.
By an odd quirk of fate, however, we both succeeded and failed. That is, we did indeed break the Chac
Yuul hold on the city ofShondakor , slay their leader, and drive them from the kingdom-but my beloved
princess was seized in the confusion and carried off by the vengeful and cunning Prince Thuton. For many
weeks now she had been held captive for a second time in remote and inaccessible Zanadar, rightfully
called the City in the Clouds. And this time her captivity was not shared by friends able to strive for her
freedom.
For weeks now, ever since the battle that freed Shondakor, we, the victors, had been sunken in a
profound depression. While the dominion was ruled wisely and well by Darloona’s noble and courageous
uncle, Lord Yarrak, the citizenry of Shondakor mourned the loss of their princess and cried out that she
somehow be delivered from the cruel captivity of the Sky Pirates.
Their determination to free Darloona was no less than my own. Freedom in Shondakor meant nothing to
me, nor did life itself, unless I could share that freedom with the most beautiful princess in two worlds.
For the last words I had heard from Darloona’s lovely lips, even as the flying vessel bore her into the
skies beyond my reach, was an avowal of her love for me.
It was a fortuitous accident that gave us a method with which to attempt the rescue of Darloona.
During the three-way battle between the Ku Thad, the Black Legion, and the Sky Pirates, one of the
remarkable aerial contrivances of the Zanadarian fleet had become partially disabled and was taken
captive. The remainder of the flying armada had either returned safely, it must be assumed, to the City in
the Clouds, or had been destroyed in the battle. Only one vessel had been left behind unharmed.
The daring scheme which I had at length decided to endeavor to use was, simply, this:
Repairing the aerial galleon, stocking it with loyal Ku Thad warriors, I would fly the aerial craft across
the face of Thanator to the very gates of Zanadar, and, attempting to impersonate Zanadarians, we would
assault the royal citadel and carry off our princess to freedom!
As I have already stated, there was one chance in a thousand that this audacious plan would succeed.
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 Whatever the risks, I was determined to make the attempt.
This desperate scheme I broached to my comrades only a few days after our victory in the battle against
the Black Legion.
The loss of our princess in the very hour of triumph had plunged the victorious Ku Thad into a profound
depression, mingled with a grim determination to somehow effect her rescue.
We were met in an upper council chamber, high in the lofty towers of the royalpalaceofShondakor .
About us, clearly visible through the immense crystal windows, the spacious city lay spread out.
Broad, well-paved avenues radiated from the palace, which stood encircled by parks and gardens at the
very heart of the walled stone metropolis. The broad, tree-lined boulevards extended in every direction
from the palace like spokes from the hub of a wheel.
Above, the strange skies of Callisto were a glowing canopy of golden mists, illuminated by no visible
source of light. The distance of Callisto from the sun is so great that the sun is but a very brilliant star from
the viewpoint of the dwellers upon the jungle Moon. The mystery of the light source is but one of the
numerous enigmas of this weird world to which I have never found the key.
The council chamber was cut from massy stone, faced with softly golden marble sculpted into a fantastic
frieze of godlike forms. The floor was carpeted with glowing tapestries of ancient work and the oval table
was one glistening slab of dark green malachite. At the head of the table sat the kingly form of an older
man whose noble frame, molded in the image of heroic strength, was draped in superb robes which
glittered with gems and crystals unknown to me. This was the Lord Yarrak, Darloona’s loyal uncle and
regent of the domain in her absence.
About the curve of the table sat five personages. First was the ancient Ku Thad sage and philosopher,
Zastro, his lined face and snowy cataract of beard giving mute testimony to the many years of his service
to the throne of Shondakor.
Next to him sat the Yathoon chieftain, Koja. The gaunt, skeletal limbs of the giant arthopode were
folded uncomfortably in a chair designed for a human occupant, but the glistening horny ovoid of his
expressionless visage, with its black, gemmy, compound eyes, revealed no sign of discomfort.
A noble young warrior was seated next to the chitin-mailed insect-man. His frank and open face, keen,
alert eyes, and breadth of brow showed him for one of high birth and gentle rearing. This was the
Prince Valkar, a lord of the Ku Thad betrothed from childhood to Darloona. I had made his
acquaintance while serving incognito in the Black Legion, as, indeed, was he. Both of us had enlisted in
the bandit army under false identities, and both with the same purpose in mind-to bring about the freedom
of Princess Darloona.
A lean, elderly man was seated beyond him, a man whose clear, tanned features and alert dark eyes
denoted him as a member of another race than the amber-skinned, crimson-maned, emerald-eyed Ku
Thad. Although his seniority was evident, this man held himself erectly, and his slender, well-knit limbs,
disposed gracefully, revealed extraordinary strength and suppleness for one of his years. This was Lukor
the Swordmaster, a Ganatolian, whose friendship I had won in the streets of Zanadar and from whom I
had learned the most hidden secrets of the art of fence.
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 The last person at this council was myself. A grateful populace had awarded me with the high title of
komor of the Ku Thad in recognition of my daring attempt to rescue Darloona from the clutches of
Arkola, warlord of the Legion.
To this small circle I revealed my wild scheme whereby the freedom of Darloona might be achieved,
with luck. In all candor, and although they desired to rescue their princess with a fervor no less intense
than that which flamed within my own bosom, my comrades at first thought me mad with grief over
Darloona’s loss. For surely, said they in commiseration, only one driven beyond the extremities of reason
would have seriously suggested so ludicrous and dangerous a plan.
I was forced to admit that my scheme did savor of extreme desperation, if not madness, at first thought.
But I begged them to consider further, for it was my firm opinion that upon closer consideration it would
reveal some glimmer of a chance for success.
The basic problem was a simple one. The City in the Clouds, you see, was most aptly named.
The Zanadarians had constructed their fortresslike capital upon the peak of a great mountain north of the
Grand Kumala jungles. This soaring summit of solid granite had sheer cliff walls so smooth and unbroken
as to preclude even the possibility of our leading a land-based army of invasion against it.
In fact, it was my considered opinion that it was a feat beyond human powers to climb that mountain.
Neither one man nor a thousand could achieve the summit alive. The precipitous walls climbed sheerly
from the dizzying abyss for thousands of feet without a break, a ledge, even a handhold. The greatest
alpinist on earth would have quailed before attempting to scale that soaring pillar of rock.
It was this inaccessibility that rendered the city of Zanadar invulnerable to attack. From their
mountaintop eyrie, the Sky Pirates could descend to strike at merchant caravans and defenseless towns
at will, and their foes could not carry the battle back to Zanadar, for only the Sky Pirates held the secrets
of construction of their remarkable flying ornithopter galleons, and only from clefts in the peak of the
mountain on which their capital was constructed did the natural levitating gas escape-the gas which, pent
under pressure between the double hulls of their sky ships, made it possible for their fleets to navigate the
clouds.
These facts were widely known and were accepted instantly by my associates in this mad venture.
I then pointed out my contention that, trusting to the remote height of Zanadar to render their dominion
impregnable, the Sky Pirates doubtless neglected strict guard and surveillance in other regions. And were
an enemy force, disguised as Zanadarian corsairs, riding a Zanadarian vessel, to attempt to land in the
Cloud City, it should logically find little opposition or even suspicion.
My associates were forced to agree to the logic of this supposition. It seemed indeed highly likely,
although very dangerous.
“But Jandar,” my friend Valkar objected, “what do you know about flying one of these sky ships?”
“Rather a bit,” I replied calmly. “Koja and I served as wheel slaves on the Zanadarian flagship Kajazell
during a flight from the great plains to Zanadar itself -we flew across the entire length of the Grand
Kumala jungles. I thoroughly understand the mechanism of the wings, and as for navigation, doubtless
that will prove a minor problem. The captain’s cabin will, I assume, have charts aplenty.”
“This is true,” Koja assured our comrades solemnly. “But even I am forced to admit, Jandar, that there
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