Dancers at the End of Time

Dancers at the End of Time Read Online Free PDF

Book: Dancers at the End of Time Read Online Free PDF
Author: Michael Moorcock
Tags: Fiction, General, SciFi-Masterwork, Science fiction; English
tidings. After I leave here, I will continue my work until, at last, I perish. It will be several thousand years more before everyone I can possibly warn has been warned." There was a sudden roaring and Jherek thought at first that it must be the lions, for he could not imagine a sound like it issuing from the tiny mouth cavity. But it was plain, from the alien's embarrassed gestures and coughs, that the translator was again malfunctioning. Jherek began to feel impatient.
    "Well, I suppose it is an experience," said Lord Jagged. "Though I'm not sure that it was entirely tactful of the Duke of Queens to make it impossible for us to leave should we so desire. After all, not everyone enjoys being bored."
    "Oh, you are not kind, Lord Jagged," said the equally invisible Mistress Christia. "I feel a certain sympathy for the little creature."
    "Dry sgog," said the alien. "I am sorry. Dry sgog." He cleared his throat again. "I had best be as brief as possible."
    The guests were beginning to talk quite loudly among themselves now.
    "In short," said the alien, trying to make himself heard above a rising babble, "my people have reached the inescapable conclusion that we are living at what you might call the End of Time. The universe is about to undergo a reformation of such massive proportions that not an atom of it will remain the same. All life will, effectively, die. All suns and planets will be destroyed as the universe ends one cycle and begins another. We are doomed, fellow intelligences. We are doomed."
    Jherek yawned. He wished the alien would get to the point. He began to stroke Mistress Christia's breasts.
    The babble died. It was obvious that everyone was now waiting for the alien to finish.
    "I see you are shocked, skree, skree, skree," said the alien. "Perhaps I could have (roar) put the news more tactfully, but I, skree, skree, have so little time. There is nothing we can do, of course, to avert our fate. We can only prepare ourselves, philosophically, skree, skree, for (roar) death."
    Mistress Christia giggled. She and Jherek sank to the ground and Jherek tried to remember how the lower garment of his set was removed. Mistress Christia's had already drifted open to receive him.
    "Buttons," said Jherek, who had not forgotten even this small detail.
    "Isn't that amazing!" said the voice of the Duke of Queens. The voice was strained; it was disappointed; it was eager to infect them with the interest which he himself felt but which, it appeared, had failed to communicate itself to his guests. "The end of the universe! Delightful!"
    "I suppose so," said Lord Jagged, feeling for Jherek's heaving back and patting it good-bye. "But it is not a very new idea, is it?"
    "We are all going to die! " The Duke of Queens laughed rather mechanically. "Oh, it's delicious!"
    "Good-bye, Jherek. Farewell, beautiful Mistress Christia." Lord Jagged went away. It was plain that he was disappointed in the Duke of Queens; offended, even.
    "Good-bye, Lord Jagged," said Mistress Christia and Jherek together. Really, there hadn't been such a dull party in a thousand years. They separated and sat side by side on the lawn. By the sound of it, many others were drifting away, stumbling against people in the dark and apologising. It was, indeed, a disaster.
    Jherek, now trying to be generous to the Duke of Queens, wondered if the thing had been deliberately engineered. Well, it was a relatively fresh experience — a party which failed.
    The cities of Africa burst into flame once again and Jherek could see the dais and the Duke of Queens standing talking to the alien on the dais.
    Lady Charlotina went past, not noticing Jherek and Mistress Christia, who were still sitting on the ground.
    "Duke," called Lady Charlotina, "is your friend part of your menagerie?"
    The Duke of Queens turned, his fine, bearded face full of dejection. It was obvious that he had not planned the failure at all.
    "He must be tired, poor thing," said Mistress Christia.
    "It was
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