“How so?”
“There is no time to lose. You and Rhialto must create an ideal semblance in the shape of Calanctus, and here, at least, I can be of assistance. The creation need not be permanent, but it must be sufficiently vital so that Llorio is persuaded that once again she pits herself against Calanctus.”
Ildefonse pulled doubtfully at his beard. “That is a major undertaking.”
“With scant time for its execution! Remember, by winning the IOUN stones you have defied the Murthe with a challenge which she cannot ignore!”
Rhialto jumped to his feet. “Quickly then! Let us do as Lehuster suggests! Time is short.”
“Hmmf,” growled Ildefonse. “I do not fear this misguided harridan. Is there no easier way?”
“Yes! Flight to a far dimension!”
“You know me better than that!” declared Ildefonse. “To work! We will send this witch squealing and leaping with skirts held high as she bounds over the brambles!”
“That shall be our slogan,” declared Lehuster. “To work!”
The semblance of Calanctus took form on the work table: first an armature of silver and tantalum wires built upon an articulated spinal truss, then a shadowy sheathing of tentative concepts, then the skull and sensorium, into which were inserted all the works of Calanctus, and a hundred other tracts, including catalogues, compendia, pantologies and universal syntheses, until Lehuster counselled a stop. “Already he knows twenty times as much as the first Calanctus! I wonder if he can organize such a mass?”
The muscles were stretched and drawn taut; the skin was applied, along with a thick pelt of dark short hair over the scalp and down the forehead. Lehuster worked long and hard at the features, adjusting the jut of the jaw, the thrust of the short straight nose, the breadth of the forehead, the exact shape and curve of eyebrows and hair-line.
The ears were affixed and the auditory channels adjusted. Lehuster spoke in an even voice: “You are Calanctus, first hero of the 18th Aeon.”
The eyes opened and gazed thoughtfully at Lehuster.
“I am your friend,” said Lehuster. “Calanctus, arise! Go sit in yonder chair.”
The Calanctus-form rose from the table with only a trifling effort, swung his strong legs to the floor and went to sit in the chair.
Lehuster turned to Rhialto and Ildefonse. “It would be better if now you stepped into the parlor for a few minutes. I must instill memories and associations into this mind; he must be vivid with life.”
“A full lifetime of memories in so short a time?” demanded Ildefonse. “Impossible!”
“Not so, in a time-compression! I will also teach him music and poetry; he must be passionate as well as vivid. My instrument is this bit of dry flower-petal; its perfume works magic.”
Somewhat reluctantly Ildefonse and Rhialto went to the parlor, where they watched morning come full to Low Meadow.
Lehuster called them to the work-room. “There sits Calanctus. His mind is rich with knowledge; he is perhaps even broader in his concepts than his namesake. Calanctus, this is Rhialto and this is Ildefonse; they are your friends.”
Calanctus looked from one to the other with mild blue eyes. “I am glad to hear that! From what I have learned, the world is sorely in need of amity.”
Lehuster said aside: “He is Calanctus, but with a difference, or even a certain lack. I have given him a quart of my blood, but perhaps it is not enough … Still, we shall see.”
Ildefonse asked: “What of power? Can he enforce his commands?”
Lehuster looked toward the neo-Calanctus. “I have loaded his sensorium with IOUN stones. Since he has never known harm he is easy and gentle despite his innate force.”
“What does he know of the Murthe?”
“All there is to be known. He shows no emotion.”
Rhialto and Ildefonse regarded their creation with skepticism. “So far Calanctus seems still an abstraction, without over-much volition,” said Rhialto. “Can we not give him a more visceral identification with the real Calanctus?”
Lehuster hesitated. “Yes. It is a scarab which Calanctus always wore on his wrist. Dress him now in apparel, then I will give him the scarab.”
Ten minutes later Rhialto and Ildefonse entered the parlour with Calanctus, who now wore a black helmet, a breast-plate of polished black metal, a black cape, black breeches and black boots, with silver buckles and accoutrements.
Lehuster nodded. “He is as he should be. Calanctus, hold out your arm! I will give you a scarab worn by the first Calanctus, whose identity you must assume. This bracelet is yours. Wear it always around your right wrist.”
Calanctus said: “I feel the surge of power. I am strong! I am Calanctus!”
Rhialto asked: “Are you strong enough to accept the sleight of magic? The ordinary man must study forty years even to become an apprentice.”
“I have the power to accept magic.”
“Come then! You shall ingest the Encyclopedia, then the Three Books of Phandaal, and if then you are neither dead nor mad I will pronounce you a man strong beyond any of my experience. Come! Back to the work-room.”
Ildefonse remained in the parlour … Minutes passed. He heard a queer choking outcry, quickly quelled.
Calanctus returned to the parlour with firm steps. Rhialto, coming after, walked on sagging knees with a green pallor on his face.
Calanctus spoke somberly to Ildefonse: “I have accepted magic. My mind reels with spells; they are wild, but still I control their veering forces. The scarab gave me the strength.”
Lehuster spoke. “The time is near. Witches gather on the meadow: Zanzel, Ao of the Opals, Barbanikos, and others. They are fretful and agitated … In fact, Zanzel approaches.”
Rhialto looked to Ildefonse. “Shall we use the opportunity?”
