Jack of Swords

Book 0: DUMAREST SAGA

by E.C. Tubb

Genres: Science Fiction; Sci-fi Action & Adventure; Space Opera

Synopsis

Earl Dumarest continues his desperate search for his birthplace, and seems to be coming close to the mythical planet Earth. But his attention is temporarily diverted, as he is unexpectedly involved in a hunt for a nebulous ghost world in another galaxy. It is rumoured that in this fabulous land lies the mysterious Castle of Heart's Desire, where every wish is fulfilled. If Dumarest can find it, then maybe - just maybe - he will be able to return to the planet of his birth. (First published 1976)

Release date: September 29, 2011

Publisher: Gateway

Print pages: 152

Sample

The Dumarest Saga:

1: The Winds of Gath (1967)

2: Derai (1968)


3: Toyman (1969)


4: Kalin (1969)


5: The Jester at Scar (1970)


6: Lallia (1971)


7: Technos (1972)


8: Veruchia (1973)


9: Mayenne (1973)


10: Jondelle (1973)


11: Zenya (1974)


12: Eloise (1975)


13: Eye of the Zodiac (1975)


14: Jack of Swords (1976)


15: Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun (1976)


16: Haven of Darkness (1977)


17: Prison of Night (1977)


18: Incident on Ath (1978)


19: The Quillian Sector (1978)


20: Web of Sand (1979)


21: Iduna’s Universe (1979)


22: The Terra Data (1980)


23: World of Promise (1980)


24: Nectar of Heaven (1981)


25: The Terridae (1981)


26: The Coming Event (1982)


27: Earth is Heaven (1982)


28: Melome (1983)


29: Angado (1984)


30: Symbol of Terra (1984)


31: The Temple of Truth (1985)


32: The Return (1997)


33: Child of Earth (2008)


The Cap Kennedy (F.A.T.E.) Series (E.C. Tubb writing as Gregory Kern)

1: Galaxy of the Lost (1973)


2: Slave Ship from Sergan (1973)


3: Monster of Metelaze (1973)


4: Enemy Within the Skull (1974)


5: Jewel of Jarhen (1974)


6: Seetee Alert! (1974)


7: The Gholan Gate (1974)


8: The Eater of Worlds (1974)


9: Earth Enslaved (1974)


10: Planet of Dread (1974)


11: Spawn of Laban (1974)


12: The Genetic Buccaneer (1974)


13: A World Aflame (1974)


14: The Ghosts of Epidoris (1975)


15: Mimics of Dephene (1975)


16: Beyond the Galactic Lens (1975)


17: The Galactiad (1983)


Alien Dust (1955)


Alien Impact (1952)


Journey Into Terror (originally published as Alien Life (1954, rev 1998))


Atom War on Mars (1952)


Fear of Strangers (first published as C.O.D. – Mars (1968))


Century of the Manikin (1972)


City of No Return (1954)

Death God’s Doom (1999)

Death is a Dream (1967)

Dead Weight (first published as Death Wears a White Face (1979))

Escape into Space (1969)

Footsteps of Angels (2004) (previously unpublished work written c.1988)

Hell Planet (1954)

Journey to Mars (1954)

Moon Base (1964)

Pandora’s Box (1996) (previously unpublished work written 1954)

Pawn of the Omphalos (1980)

S.T.A.R. Flight (1969)

Stardeath (1983)

Starslave (2010) (previously unpublished work written 1984)

Stellar Assignment (1979)

Temple of Death (1996) (previously unpublished work written 1954)

Fifty Days to Doom (first published as The Extra Man (1954))

The Life-Buyer (1965, 2008)

The Luck Machine (1980)

World in Torment (originally published as The Mutants Rebel (1953))

The Primitive (1977)

The Resurrected Man (1954)

The Sleeping City (1999)

The Space-Born (1956)

The Stellar Legion (1954)

To Dream Again (2011)

Venusian Adventure (1953)

Tide of Death (first published as World at Bay (1954))

E. C. Tubb (writing as Arthur MacLean)

The Possessed (revised version of Touch of Evil (1957))

E. C. Tubb (writing as Brian Shaw)

Argentis (1952)

E. C. Tubb (writing as Carl Maddox)

Menace from the Past (1954)

The Living World (1954)

E. C. Tubb (writing as Charles Grey)

Dynasty of Doom (1953)

The Extra Man (first published as Enterprise 2115 (1954) & then as The Mechanical Monarch (1958))

I Fight for Mars (1953)

Space Hunger (1953)

The Hand of Havoc (1954)

Secret of the Towers (originally published as The TormentedCity(1953))

The Wall (1953)

E. C. Tubb (writing as Gill Hunt)

Planetfall (1951)

E. C. Tubb (writing as King Lang)

Saturn Patrol (1951)

E. C. Tubb (writing as Roy Sheldon)

The Metal Eater (1954)

E. C. Tubb (writing as Volsted Gridban)

The Green Helix (originally published as Alien Universe (1952))

Reverse Universe (1952)

Planetoid Disposals Ltd. (1953)

The Freedom Army (originally published as De Bracy’s Drug (1953))

Fugitive of Time (1953)

At sunset the sky of Teralde was painted with vibrant swaths of brilliant color; minute crystals of air-borne dust refracting
the light so that the entire bowl of the firmament looked as if some cosmic artist had spilled his palette in a profusion
of inspired genius. An eye-catching spectacle but one which, for Dumarest, had long ceased to hold charm.


He walked through the streets gilded with dying light, past tall houses fashioned of stone, the windows small, the doors thick
and tightly barred. Even the shops were like small fortresses, their wares jealously guarded, reluctantly displayed The field,
as usual, was empty, the barren dirt devoid of the weight of a single vessel. The gate set into the perimeter fence was unmanned,
a sure sign that no ship was expected.


“Nothing.” The agent, a Hausi, leaned back in his chair. His ebony face, scarred with the caste marks of his guild, was bland.
“Ships will arrive eventually, of course, but Teralde is not a commercial world. Only when the beasts have been processed
and shipments are available will the traders come. Until then all we can hope for is some tourists.”


Luxury vessels carrying jaded dilettantes, the rich and curious with money to burn and time to waste. But Dumarest had no
time—unless a ship arrived soon he would be stranded.


He said, “I need work.”

“Work?” The Hausi shrugged. “My friend, on Teralde the desire is not enough. You need to own special skills. Your profession?”

“I can do most things which need to be done.”

“Of course. Do I reveal doubt?” Yethan Ctonat selected a comfit from an ornamented box and crushed the candied morsel between
strong teeth. “But, you understand, I represent my guild. To place a man who cannot perform the skills he claims to own would reflect on my reputation. And demand is small. Are you a master of genetic manipulation? A physician?
A veterinarian? I tell you frankly, we have no need of gamblers.”


“Do I look a gambler?”

“A man who travels is always that,” said the agent smoothly. “To drift from world to world, never certain of what he will
find, what else can such a man be? Especially if he travels Low. The fifteen-percent death rate is a risk none but a gambler
would take. And you have traveled Low, have you not?”


“To often, riding doped, frozen, and ninety percent dead in caskets designed for the transportation of animals. Cheap travel—all
that could be said for it.


“I will not deceive you,” said Yethan Ctonat. “As you must have discovered, there is no hope of normal employment on this
world. You work for the Owners or for those they tolerate or you do not work at all. And for every vacancy there is a host
of applicants.” He added, casually, “For a man like you there is only one way to survive on Teralde.”


Dumarest was curt. “To fight?”

“You have guessed it. Blood has a universal appeal. If you are interested—” The agent broke off, reaching for another comfit.
“It’s all I can offer.”


And all Dumarest had expected, but the attempt had had to be made. The colors in the sky were fading as he walked through
the city and toward the wilderness at the edge of which sprawled the slums. Lowtowns were always the same and in his time
he had seen too many of them. Sometimes they were huddles of shacks, tents, and shelters crudely fashioned from whatever materials
were at hand; at others as on Teralde, they were simple boxes built of stone and set in neat array. But shacks or buildings
the atmosphere was identical.


A miasma compounded of despair and poverty, the reek of a world which held no pride, no hope, nothing but the bleak concentration
of the moment, the need to survive yet one more day, one more hour. The refuge of those without work or money. Had they been
slaves they would have been fed and clothed, a responsibility to their owners. As it was they formed a pool of cheap labor
which cost nothing, the only expense being the warren in which they lived and bred and died.


“Earl!” A man came running toward Dumarest as he entered one of the buildings. “Earl, have you decided?”


Cran Elem was small, thin, his cheeks sunken, the bones prominent. Beneath the rags he wore his wasted flesh and bone gave
him the fragility of a child.


Dumarest made no answer, climbing the stairs to the flat roof there to stand and look at the sky. Dusk was thickening and
would soon yield to night, the darkness heralded by the glitter of early stars.


Stars like the eyes he had seen too often in the shadows surrounding a ring. The avid, hungry eyes of those eager for the
sight of blood and pain. Their coldness was the chill of naked steel, their gleam that of razored edge and point. To fight,
to kill and maim, to win the price of a meal so as to live to fight again. He had done it before and would again if all else
failed, but there could be a better way.


To Cran he said, “Assemble and warn the men. We leave in an hour.”

The storm broke at midnight with a sudden flurry of lightning followed by thunder and a driving rain. Crouched beneath the
fronds of stunted vegetation Dumarest felt its impact on his head, the deluge filling his mouth and nostrils so that he had
to bend his face in order to breathe. On all sides the gritty soil turned into an oozing, alluvial mud.


“Earl!” From the darkness Cran edged close, his voice strained, echoing his despair. “Earl! It’s a bust!”

“Wait!”

“It’s useless. We tried but this is hopeless. We’d best get back to, town.”

A flash illuminated him, thunder crashing as Dumarest reached out and caught an arm. Beneath his fingers he could feel the
stringy muscle, the stick of bone. In his grip the man was helpless.


“Wait,” he said again. “This storm could help us.”

“Help?” Cran almost sobbed in his disappointment. “With mud up to our ankles and rain in our eyes? The storm will have unsettled
the beasts and they’re bad enough at the best of times.” His voice rose to the edge of hysteria. “I thought we’d have a chance
but the luck is against us. Damn the luck. Damn it all to hell!”


He cried out as Dumarest’s hand slapped his cheek.

“Earl!”

“Control yourself.” Dumarest freed the arm. “Get the others.”


“You’re going back?”

“Just do as I say.”

They came like ghosts, revealed in stark detail by the intermittent flashes, the dirt which had stained faces and hands gone
now, washed away by the rain. Like Cran they wore rags, torn and discarded garments salvaged from garbage, broken shoes and
naked feet wrapped in layers of rotting cloth. Their hair, plastered close, accentuated their skull-like appearance. Starving
men who would be dead soon unless they obtained food.


Among them Dumarest looked solid, reassuring, his clothing scuffed but whole, the gray plastic of tunic, pants and boots gleaming
with a wet slickness.


He said, “Cran, how far to the compound?”

“A mile, maybe less, but—”

“This storm will help us. The guards will remain in shelter and the lightning will be blamed for anything affecting the electronic
system. The animals will be together and easy to take. Before dawn you’ll all have bellies full of meat.”


“Or be dead,” said a man bleakly.

“Today, tomorrow, what’s the difference?” said another. “I’m willing to take a chance if Earl will lead us.”

“I’ll lead you,” said Dumarest. “And there’ll be no quitting. If any man tries to leave I’ll cut him down. Understand?” He
paused as thunder rolled and, as it faded, said, “We’ve no choice and the storm will make it easy. Just keep down and merge
with the ground. Freeze if a light shines your way. Work as a unit and we can’t go wrong.”


Words to stiffen their resolve, but a man had a question.

“When we reach the compound who goes in?”

“I will,” said Dumarest. “Ready? Let’s get on with it.”

Cran led the way and Dumarest followed him close as they left the poor shelter. It was too early to move—later the rain would
ease a little, but waiting would rob the others of enthusiasm. What had to be done must be done fast and they had to be gone
long before dawn.


A blur of light and the compound came into sight. The rain lashed against the mesh of the high fence and the lights ringing
it, spraying and misting the installation so as to give it the insubstantial quality of a dream. A dream shattered by the sudden, snarling roar of a beast as it slammed itself against the fence.


From a tower a searchlight threw a cone of brilliance, the beam tracing a path over milling shapes, settling on the fence,
dying as, satisfied, the guard killed the illumination.


Without hesitation Dumarest led the way to within feet of the mesh well away from the tower. At his orders men vanished like
ghosts into the rain to take up positions at either side. At intervals they would jar the mesh to create a distraction.


“Cran!”

From within his clothing the man produced wire and a set of cutters. Quickly he hooked up a jumper-circuit, and resting the
cutters on the mesh, glanced at Dumarest.


“Now?”

“Wait until the next flash.”

It came with a livid coruscation, closer than before, dirt pluming as electronic energy tore at the ground. As thunder rolled
the mesh parted in a narrow slit through which Dumarest thrust himself. Speed now was all-important and as the searchlight
stabbed to one side where a man had jarred the fence he dived toward the nearest animal.


It was as large as a horse, horned, the hooves like razors, the tail ending in a club of bone. A chelach, its eyes small,
set deep in ringed projections of bone; the mouth, open, showed teeth as sharp as chisels. A beast disturbed by the storm
and bristling with anger. For a second it watched and then, as Dumarest moved closer, it charged.


Its size belied its speed. An engine of bone and muscle weighing half a ton, it jerked from a standstill to the speed of a
running man in a numbing explosion of energy. Fast as it was Dumarest was faster. He sprang aside, his arm lifting as it drew
level, the knife he had lifted from his boot rising, stabbing, the edge slicing at the arteries of the throat as he dragged
it clear.


Blood fountained to splash on the ground, his body; carmine smears washed away by the rain but leaving its sickly scent to
hang on the air. As the beast halted close to the fence he struck again, the point driving deep between the ribs, the hilt
jarring against the hide as the blade dug into the heart.


“Earl!” Cran stared, incredulous. “How—I’ve never seen a man move as fast.”

“The rope. Quick!”


It came toward him like a snake, a thing of carefully woven strands of salvaged wire. Looping it over the head Dumarest ran
back toward the fence and, with the aid of others, hauled the carcass toward the gap. The rain helped as he had known it would,
the mud acting like an oil. He snarled with impatience as the animal jammed, and setting his feet deep in the slime, threw
the strength of back and shoulders against the wire. It grew taut, hummed like a plucked string, stretched a little but held.
With a sudden rush the mass passed through the opening and within seconds was clear.


“Keep pulling,” snapped Dumarest. “Hurry!”

They needed no urging, panting as they struggled against the weight, freezing as. . .