The Best of Jack Vance (1976) SSC

by Jack Vance

  Elf Intry arrived early in the afternoon, coming down to Mail’s Planet in a capsule discharged from the weekly Outer Ring Express packet. A woman of normally good disposition, she greeted Ullward in a seethe of indignation. “Just who is that brute around the other side of the planet? I thought you had absolute privacy here!”

  “That’s just old Mail,” said Ullward evasively. “What’s wrong?”

  “The fool on the packet set me the wrong coordinates and the capsule came down on a beach. I noticed a house and then I saw a naked man jumping rope behind some bushes. I thought it was you, of course. I went over and said ‘Boo!’ You should have heard the language he used!” She shook her head. “I don’t see why you allow such a boor on your planet.”

  The buzzer on the communication screen sounded. “That’s Mail now,” said Ullward. “You wait here. I’ll tell him how to speak to my guests!”

  He presently returned to the terrace. Elf came over to him, kissed his nose. “Ully, you’re pale with rage! I hope you didn’t lose your temper.”

  “No,” said Ullward. “We merely—well, we had an understanding. Come along, look over the property.”

  He took Elf around to the back, pointing out the swimming pool, the waterfall, the mass of rock above. “You won’t see that effect on any illusion-pane! That’s genuine rock!”

  “Lovely, Ully. Very nice. The color might be just a trifle darker, though. Rock doesn’t look like that.”

  “No?” Ullward inspected the cliff more critically. “Well, I can’t do anything about it. How about the privacy?”

  “Wonderful! It’s so quiet, it’s almost eerie!”

  “Eerie?” Ullward looked around the landscape. “It hadn’t occurred to me.”

  “You’re not sensitive to these things, Ully. Still, it’s very nice, if you can tolerate that unpleasant creature Mail so close.”

  “Close?” protested Ullward. “He’s on the other side of the continent!”

  “True,” said Elf. “It’s all relative, I suppose. How long do you expect to stay out here?”

  “That depends. Come along inside. I want to talk with you.”

  He seated her in a comfortable chair, brought her a globe of Gluco-Fructoid Nectar. For himself, he mixed ethyl alcohol, water, a few drops of Haig’s Oldtime Esters.

  “Elf, where do you stand in the reproduction list?”

  She raised her fine eyebrows, shook her head. “So far down, I’ve lost count. Fifty or sixty billion.”

  “I’m down thirty-seven billion. It’s one reason I bought this place. Waiting list, piffle! Nobody stops Bruham Ullward’s breeding on his own planet!”

  Elf pursed her lips, shook her head sadly. “It won’t work, Ully.”

  “And why not?”

  “You can’t take the children back to Earth. The list would keep them out.

  “True, but think of living here, surrounded by children. All the children you wanted! And utter privacy to boot! What more could you ask for?”

  Elf sighed. “You fabricate a beautiful illusion-pane, Ully. But I think not. I love the privacy and solitude—but I thought there’d be more people to be private from.”

  The Outer Ring Express packet came past four days later. Elf kissed Ullward goodbye. “It’s simply exquisite here, Ully. The solitude is so magnificent it gives me gooseflesh. I’ve had a wonderful visit.” She climbed into the capsule. “See you on Earth.”

  “Just a minute,” said Ullward suddenly. “I want you to post a letter or two for me.”

  “Hurry. I’ve only got twenty minutes.”

  Ullward was back in ten minutes. “Invitations,” he told her breathlessly. “Friends.”

  “Right.” She kissed his nose. “Goodbye, Ully.” She slammed the port; the capsule rushed away, whirling up to meet the packet.

  The new guests arrived three weeks later: Frobisher Worbeck, Liometta Stobard, Harris and Hyla Cabe, Ted and Ravelin and Iugenae Seehoe, Juvenal Aquister and his son, Runy.

  Ullward, brown from long days of lazing in the sun, greeted them with great enthusiasm. “Welcome to my little retreat! Wonderful to see you all! Frobisher, you pink-cheeked rascal! And Iugenae! Prettier than ever! Be careful, Ravelin—I’ve got my eye on your daughter! But Runy’s here, guess I’m out of the picture! Liometta, damned glad you could make it! And Ted! Great to see you, old chap! This is all your doing, you know! Harris, Hyla, Juvenal—come on up! We’ll have a drink, a drink, a drink!” Running from one to the other, patting arms, herding the slow-moving Frobisher Worbeck, he conducted his guests up the slope to the terrace. Here they turned to survey the panorama. Ullward listened to their remarks, mouth pursed against a grin of gratification. “Magnificent!”

  “Grand!”

  “Absolutely genuine!”

  “The sky is so far way, it frightens me!”

  “The sunlight’s so pure!”

  “The genuine thing’s always best, isn’t it?”

  Runy said a trifle wistfully, “I thought you were on a beach, Lamster Ullward.”

  “Beach? This is mountain country, Runy. Land of the wide open spaces! Look out over that plain!”

  Liometta Stobart patted Runy’s shoulder. “Not every planet has beaches, Runy. The secret of happiness is to be content with what one has.”

  Ullward laughed gaily. “Oh, I’ve got beaches, never fear for that! There’s a fine beach—ha, ha—five hundred miles due west. Every step Ullward domain!”

  “Can we go?” asked Iugenae excitedly. “Can we go, Lamster Ullward?”

  “We certainly can! That shed down the slope is headquarters for the Ullward Airlines. We’ll fly to the beach, swim in Ullward Ocean! But now refreshment! After that crowded capsule, your throats must be like paper!

  “It wasn’t too crowded,” said Ravelin Seehoe. “There were only nine of us.” She looked critically up at the cliff. “If that were an illusion-pane, I’d consider it grotesque.”

  “My dear Ravelin!” cried Ullward. “It’s impressive! Magnificent!”

  “All of that,” agreed Frobisher Worbeck, a tall, sturdy man, white-haired, red-jowled, with a blue benevolent gaze. “And now, Bruham, what about those drinks?”

  “Of course! Ted, I know you of old. Will you tend bar? Here’s the alcohol, here’s water, here are the esters. Now, you two,” Ullward called to Runy and Iugenae. “How about some nice cold soda pop?”

  “What kind is there?” asked Runy.

  “All kinds, all flavors. This is Ullward’s Retreat! We’ve got methylamyl glutamine, cycloprodacterol phosphate, metathiobrominer-glycocitrose…

  Runy and Iugenae expressed their preferences; Ullward brought the globes, then hurried to arrange tables and chairs for the adults. Presently everyone was comfortable and relaxed.

  Iugenae whispered to Ravelin, who smiled and nodded indulgently. “Lamster Ullward, you remember the beautiful oak leaf you gave Iugenae?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “It’s still as fresh and green as ever. I wonder if Iugenae might have a leaf or two from some of these other trees?”

  “My dear Ravelin!” Ullward roared with laughter. “She can have an entire tree!”

  “Oh Mother! Can—”

  “Iugenae, don’t be ridiculous!” snapped Ted. “How could we get it home? Where would we plant the thing? In the bathroom?”

  Ravelin said, “You and Runy find some nice leaves, but don’t wander too far.”

  “No, Mother.” She beckoned to Runy. “Come along, dope. Bring a basket.”

  The others of the party gazed out over the plain. “A beautiful view, Ullward,” said Frobisher Worbeck. “How far does your property extend?”

  “Five hundred miles west to the ocean, six hundred miles east to the mountains, eleven hundred miles north and two hundred miles south.” Worbeck shook his head solemnly. “Nice. A pity you couldn’t get the whole planet. Then you’d have real privacy!”

  “I tried, of course,” said Ullward. “The owner refused to consider
the idea.”

  “A pity.”

  Ullward brought out a map. “However, as you see, I have a fine volcano, a number of excellent rivers, a mountain range, and down here on the delta of Cinnamon River an absolutely miasmic swamp.”

  Ravelin pointed to the ocean. “Why, it’s Lonesome Ocean! I thought the name was Ullward Ocean.”

  Ullward laughed uncomfortably. “Just a figure of speech—so to speak. My rights extend ten miles. More than enough for swimming purpose.”

  “No freedom of the seas here, eh, Lamster Ullward?” laughed Harris Cabe.

  “Not exactly,” confessed Ullward.

  “A pity,” said Frobisher Worbeck.

  Hyla Cabe pointed to the map. “Look at these wonderful mountain ranges! The Magnificent Mountains! And over here—the Elysian Gardens! I’d love to see them, Lamster Ullward.”

  Ullward shook his head in embarrassment. “Impossible, I’m afraid. They’re not on my property. I haven’t even seen them myself.”

  His guests stared at him in astonishment. “But surely—”

  “It’s an atom-welded contract with Lamster Mail,” Ullward explained. “He stays on his property, I stay on mine. In this way, our privacy is secure.”

  “Look,” Hyla Cabe said aside to Ravelin, “the Unimaginable Caverns! Doesn’t it make you simply wild not to be able to see them?”

  Aquister said hurriedly, “It’s a pleasure to sit here and just breathe this wonderful fresh air. No noise, no crowds, no bustle or hurry.”

  The party drank and chatted and basked in the sunlight until late afternoon. Enlisting the aid of Ravelin Seehoe and Hyla Cabe, Ullward set out a simple meal of yeast pellets, processed protein, thick slices of algae crunch.

  “No animal flesh, cooked vegetation?” questioned Worbeck curiously.

  “Tried them the first day,” said Ullward. “Revolting. Sick for a week.”

  After dinner, the guests watched a comic melodrama on the wallscreen. Then Ullward showed them to their various cubicles, and after a few minutes of badinage and calling back and forth, the lodge became quiet.

  Next day, Ullward ordered his guests into their bathing suits. “We’re off to the beach, we’ll gambol on the sand, we’ll frolic in the surf of Lonesome Ullward Ocean!”

  The guests piled happily into the air-car. Ullward counted heads. “All aboard! We’re off!”

  They rose and flew west, first low over the plain, then high into the air, to obtain a panoramic view of the Rock Castle Crags.

  “The tallest peak—there to the north—is almost ten thousand feet high. Notice how it juts up, just imagine the mass! Solid rock! How’d you like that dropped on your toe, Runy? Not so good, eh? In a moment, we’ll see a precipice over a thousand feet straight up and down. There—now! Isn’t that remarkable?”

  “Certainly impressive,” agreed Ted.

  “What those Magnificent Mountains must be like!” said Harris Cabe with a wry laugh.

  “How tall are they, Lamster Ullward?” inquired Liometta Stobart. “What? Which?”

  “The Magnificent Mountains.”

  “I don’t know for sure. Thirty or forty thousand feet, I suppose.”

  “What a marvelous sight they must be!” said Frobisher Worbeck. “Probably make these look like foothills.”

  “These are beautiful too,” Hyla Cabe put in hastily.

  “Oh, naturally,” said Frobisher Worbeck. “A damned fine sight! You’re a lucky man, Bruham!”

  Ullward laughed shortly, turned the air-car west. They flew across a rolling forested plain and presently Lonesome Ocean gleamed in the distance. Ullward slanted down, landed the air-car on the beach, and the party alighted.

  The day was warm, the sun hot. A fresh wind blew in from the ocean. The surf broke upon the sand in massive roaring billows.

  The party stood appraising the scene. Ullward swung his arms. “Well, who’s for it? Don’t wait to be invited! We’ve got the whole ocean to ourselves!”

  Ravelin said, “It’s so rough! Look how that water crashes down!”

  Liometta Stobart turned away with a shake of her head. “Illusion-pane surf is always so gentle. This could lift you right up and give you a good shaking!”

  “I expected nothing quite so vehement,” Harris Cabe admitted.

  Ravelin beckoned to Iugenae. “You keep well away, Miss Puss. I don’t want you swept out to sea. You’d find it Lonesome Ocean indeed!”

  Runy approached the water, waded gingerly into a sheet of retreating foam. A comber thrashed down at him and he danced quickly back to the shore.

  “The water’s cold,” he reported.

  Ullward poised himself. “Well, here goes! I’ll show you how it’s done!” He trotted forward, stopped short, then flung himself into the face of a great white comber.

  The party on the beach watched.

  “Where is he?” asked Hyla Cabe.

  Iugenae pointed. “I saw part of him out there. A leg, or an arm.”

  “There he is!” cried Ted. “Woof! Another one’s caught him. I suppose some people might consider it sport…”

  Ullward staggered to his feet, lurched through the retreating wash to shore. “Hah! Great! Invigorating! Ted! Harris! Juvenal! Take a go at it!”

  Harris shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll try it today, Bruham.”

  “The next time for me too,” said Juvenal Aquister. “Perhaps it won’t be so rough.”

  “But don’t let us stop you!” urged Ted. “You swim as long as you like. We’ll wait here for you.”

  “Oh, I’ve had enough for now,” said Ullward. “Excuse me while I change.”

  When Ullward returned, he found his guests seated in the air-car. “Hello! Everyone ready to go?”

  “It’s hot in the sun,” explained Liometta, “and we thought we’d enjoy the view better from inside.”

  “When you look through the glass, it’s almost like an illusion-pane,” said Iugenae.

  “Oh, I see. Well, perhaps you’re ready to visit other parts of the Ullward domain?”

  The proposal met with approval; Ullward took the air-car into the air. “We can fly north over the pine woods, south over Mount Cairasco, which unfortunately isn’t erupting just now.”

  “Anywhere you like, Lamster Ullward,“said Frobisher Worbeck. “No doubt it’s all beautiful.”

  Ullward considered the varied attractions of his leasehold. “Well, first to the Cinnamon Swamp.”

  For two hours they flew, over the swamp, across the smoking crater of Mount Cairasco, east to the edge of Murky Mountains, along Calliope River to its source in Goldenleaf Lake. Ullward pointed out noteworthy views, interesting aspects. Behind him, the murmurs of admiration dwindled and finally died.

  “Had enough?” Ullward called back gaily. “Can’t see half a continent in one day! Shall we save some for tomorrow?”

  There was a moment’s stillness. Then Liometta Stobart said, “Lamster Ullward, we’re simply dying for a peek at the Magnificent Mountains. I wonder—do you think we could slip over for a quick look? I’m sure Lamster Mail wouldn’t really mind.”

  Ullward shook his head with a rather stiff smile. “He’s made me agree to a very definite set of rules. I’ve already had one brush with him.”

  “How could he possibly find out?” asked Juvenal Aquister.

  “He probably wouldn’t find out,” said Ullward, “but—”

  “It’s a damned shame for him to lock you off into this drab little peninsula!” Frobisher Worbeck said indignantly.

  “Please, Lamster Ullward,” Iugenae wheedled.

  “Oh, very well,” Ullward said recklessly.

  He turned the air-car east. The Murky Mountains passed below. The party peered from the windows, exclaiming at the marvels of the forbidden landscape.

  “How far are the Magnificent Mountains?” asked Ted.

  “Not far. Another thousand miles.”

  “Why are you hugging the ground?” asked Frobisher Worbeck. “Up in the
air, man! Let’s see the countryside!”

  Ullward hesitated. Mail was probably asleep. And, in the last analysis, he really had no right to forbid an innocent little— “Lamster Ullward,” called Runy, “there’s an air-car right behind us.”

  The air-car drew up level. Kennes Mail’s blue eyes met Ullward’s across the gap. He motioned Ullward down.

  Ullward compressed his mouth, swung the air-car down. From behind him came murmurs of sympathy and outrage.

  Below as a dark pine forest; Ullward set down in a pretty little glade. Mail landed nearby, jumped to the ground, signaled to Ullward. The two men walked to the side. The guests murmured together and shook their heads.

  Ullward presently returned to the air-car. “Everybody please get in,” he said crisply.

  They rose into the air and flew west. “What did the chap have to say for himself?” queried Worbeck.

  Ullward chewed at his lips. “Not too much. Wanted to know if I’d lost the way. I told him one or two things. Reached an understanding…” His voice dwindled, then rose in a burst of cheerfulness. “We’ll have a party back at the lodge. What do we care for Mail and his confounded mountains?”

  “That’s the spirit, Bruham!” cried Frobisher Worbeck.

  Both Ted and Ullward tended bar during the evening. Either one or the other mingled rather more alcohol to rather less esters into the drinks than standard practice recommended. As a result, the party became quite loud and gay. Ullward damned Mail’s interfering habits; Worbeck explored six thousand years of common law in an effort to prove Mail a domineering tyrant; the women giggled; Iugenae and Runy watched cynically, then presently went off to attend to their own affairs.

  In the morning, the group slept late. Ullward finally tottered out on the terrace, to be joined one at a time by the others. Runy and Iugenae were missing.

  “Young rascals,” groaned Worbeck. “If they’re lost, they’ll have to find their own way back. No search parties for me.”

  At noon, Runy and Iugenae returned in Ullward’s air-car.

  “Good heavens,” shrieked Ravelin. “Iugenae, come here this instant! Where have you been?”