Voyage to the City of the Dead

by Alan Dean Foster

  "The courier could not be certain. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps several days from tomorrow. I am much gladdened for you both."

  "Thanks again. We've been ready to leave for months, though I suppose we can find a few last‑minute things to take care of."

  "If you will excuse me." The thranx officer released her iron grip on the support pillar and slowly backed clear of the closed bay doors. She looked much happier after she had moved well away from the potential gap.

  Deep in conversation, Etienne and Lyra returned to their quarters. Working smoothly they began packing a motile with personal belongings and other last‑minute items. They were going to be away from civilization for a long time and there would be no returning for a forgotten chip or bit of clothing.

  At least they could consume native foods. That left a lot of room on board for other equipment, extra medical sup­plies, and tridee cubes.

  Stowed in one of the bottom compartments was their cold­weather gear, untouched since its arrival on Tslamaina. They would need the suits when they entered the north polar lat­itudes. After the relentless heat of the lower Barshajagad, both looked forward to some cheerful freezing.

  Two days passed before the ambassador's ship appeared. His retinue was as modest in size and appearance as the vessel which bore them. Ror de‑Kelwhoang looked disap­pointed when he was informed he could not bring any of his escort onto the station, but accepted the determination with diplomatic grace.

  In its own modest way the ambassador's official craft was impressive enough. Hired rowers held their double‑bladed oars at attention as the ambassador debarked, though they were unable to keep their eyes from wandering toward the strange alien castle that stood high above the water on mas­sive metal legs.

  The meeting took place on a deck that encircled the station's lower levels. Etienne and Lyra waited in their briefs and tops. Tslamaina was no place for formal wear.

  The ambassador wore little more than the curious hu­mans. His cache du sex was opaque, as was the custom, and his upper garment of silver and copper‑colored threads concealed little despite covering him from neck to ankles. It made for a very flashy nonexistent costume. As Lyra had explained, the composition of the material as well as the intricate weave told a knowledgeable onlooker much about the wearer's status, as well as the time of year and what holiday it might be. A good Mai tailor could make much out of little.

  Lyra found such details of native life fascinating. Etienne bore her enthusiasm stoically. He was interested in minerals, not millinery.

  The Mai ambassador spread his arms wide and turned a slow circle. The movement was fluid but slow, reflective of his advanced age. Porlezmozmith, who had met him before, performed the formal introduction. Her Mai was competent but could not match that of the Redowls; that was due to the thranx larynx, not a lack of linguistic talent.

  "Ror de‑Kelwhoang, our visitors who would travel your lands, Etienne and Lyra Redowl."

  "It is our pleasure to greet you," Lyra added. "We look forward with endless delight to exploring your magnificent country. We are endlessly grateful for the permission to do so granted by your Zanur on behalf of your most powerful and respected city‑state."

  The ambassador acknowledged the elegant tribute, which Lyra had rehearsed unto boredom, with a slight gesture signifying acceptance. His soft, perceptive eyes seemed fixed on Lyra. That was understandable. She stood eye to eye with the ambassador, which made her tall for a Mai female but not a grotesque scarecrow of a giant like her husband. It was the first time the ambassador had set eyes on the new aliens and he was evidently entranced by the similarities. Etienne had to stifle his amusement at the ambassador's unabashed preoccupation. By Mai standards Lyra's pro­portions were nothing short of awesome.

  "It is with delight that I bring greetings and good wishes from Najoke de‑me‑Halmur, Moyt of Po Rabi. It has been decided after much careful discussion and agreement on a contract of exchange for certain materials to permit you free passage throughout all the vast territories controlled by our city‑state."

  "I'm glad everything's worked out," Etienne replied. His Mai was more colloquial than Lyra's, but the ambassador didn't seem to mind the informality of the alien's speech.

  "What route will you be taking?"

  Etienne smiled disingenuously. He and Lyra had debated the possibility of treachery by the locals and had decided it would be better to appear a little impolite and conceal the exact details of their itinerary.

  "We're not certain. Here and there‑we travel where our thirst for knowledge draws us."

  Experienced diplomat that he was, de‑Kelwhoang did not react to the probable evasion. "I envy you your freedom. Alas, my work rarely allows me to vary from a designated course. I have been told of the marvelous devices you pos­sess which enable you to find your way at night and in bad weather as clearly as in cloudless daytime. Nevertheless, we would be remiss in our duty and it would be an offense to our honor if you were come to distress attempting to work your way into the main channel of the great Skar." Etienne was immediately on guard.

  "It is also necessary that you carry more than signed documents, which can be forged, to prove that you travel under the protection of all Po Rabi. That way the ignorant bandits and suspicious villagers you may encounter, many of whom have not mastered the art of reading, will allow you to pass freely through their lands."

  The ambassador turned and called over the railing toward his boat. A moment later two Mai appeared at the top of the stairs. Their fishnet attire was plain and their attitude def­erential.

  Etienne's first thought was that they constituted some formal part of the ambassador's entourage, but such was not the case.

  "These will be your guides as well as your guarantors of safe passage," de‑Kelwhoang announced. He bade each in turn step forward anti make gestures of obeisance before the humans.

  The male's name was Homat, the female's Irquit. No honorific "de" prefix, Etienne noted. Both wore simple face makeup and had their long hair bound back in single braids in contrast to the ambassador's elegant but thin coiffure. After bending and turning, both extended their hands out­ward toward the Redowls, palms upward.

  After a moment's hesitation Lyra reached out and pressed her own palms to each proffered pair, palm down. The much longer Mai fingers extended well up against her wrist. Each of the six fingers ended in a soft fleshy pad. There were no nails, no residual claws.

  Then she stepped back and drew her husband and Por­lezmozmith aside, spoke in symbospeech. "What's your opinion, Commander? I don't really want these two along, but I don't want to offend this ambassador either, especially since we're not yet on our way."

  "You are the xenologist, Lyra. But it would be bad di­plomacy to refuse this offer of aid. They come to you as official representatives of their city. They do not look threat­ening to me and may indeed prove useful on your journey. Your mastery of Mai customs is far from complete."

  "If it was we wouldn't be disappearing Upriver for a few months. Etienne, what's your opinion?"

  "If it was up to me I'd rather not have them along, but as Porlez says, this is in the nature of an official presentation and I don't see how we can decline. I'm sure they're being sent along to learn everything they can about us for their Zanur, but I don't see much harm in that. They'll have to stay out on the stem deck anyway, away from any sensitive controls. The air conditioning in the main cabins would kill them in a few hours, or at least make them damn uncom­fortable."

  "All right then, they can come along. As you point out, Porlez, they may be of real help. If they cause trouble we can hold the Po Rabian Zanur directly responsible. Instru­ments aside, it'll be nice to have along a couple of locals who are familiar with the territory. Maybe they know how to cook. It would be nice when we enter colder climes to be able to enjoy a real hot meal instead of what the exciter oven throws up at us."

  "I guess it's settled then," Etienne said, and couldn't resist adding, "Nice of you to ask for m
y opinion. Porlez, can you add anything?"

  An inflexible thranx face cannot look thoughtful, but the station commander somehow managed to convey that feeling nonetheless.

  "Just remember that when you pass above communicator range you're entirely on your own. We have no aircar here and it would be hard for me to muster a rescue party to come out after you under the best of circumstances. We do not care for travel by boat, as you are aware."

  "We're aware of the dangers, as we were before we ac­cepted this opportunity," Lyra reminded her. "We're looking forward to our independence and we're quite used to being on our own in difficult country."

  "I know, I know," Portezmozmith said. "I did not mean to sound as if I were chiding you. Once you pass out of communicator range I am no longer responsible for your safety, but I feel concern nonetheless."

  Etienne was touched. Such compassion was a widespread thranx attribute and one of those characteristics that had deeply endeared them to humankind, but it still had the power to surprise.

  "All the more reason then," he replied, "to have native help with us that we can count on. We'll have ample time to establish the reliability of our guests before we've gone beyond communicator range." He nodded toward the two slightly nervous guides.

  "It would seem you are aware of what awaits you," said the commander. "I can think of nothing else to add." They all turned their attention back to the waiting ambassador.

  For his part, Ror de‑Kelwhoang had listened with interest to the harsh alien babble, which contrasted sharply with the rapid‑fire sibilant singsong phrases of his own tongue.

  "We thank the Zanur," Lyra said carefully, "for its kind thoughts and accept this offer of assistance with open hearts." Expressions of relief appeared simultaneously on the faces of de‑Kelwhoang and the two guides. It would have gone hard on all if the offer had been refused.

  Lyra couldn't resist adding to her knowledge of Mai cus­toms. "Etienne and I are mated in the sight of the Ocean and the Oceans of all worlds. What of you?"

  "We are not mated," Irquit replied, instantly establishing herself as senior of the pair. "Neither to each other nor others. The Zanur feels," and she made a deferential gesture toward the ambassador, "that in light of the many dangers that may lie in wait for us Upriver, it would be best if those with no family ties were honored by the opportunity to assist you."

  "How encouraging," Etienne said dryly.

  "I'm curious," Lyra persisted, "did you two volunteer for this, or were you `honored' by choice of the Zanur?"

  "Both apply." De‑Kelwhoang stepped in gracefully. "Not all are qualified to serve as guides on such a momentous journey. Both these two have traveled far past the Skatan­dah. They have knowledge of its currents and its winds as well as many of the peoples you will encounter. I assure you that we have gone to great lengths to provide the most com­petent helpers Po Rabi has to offer."

  Not wanting to risk impugning the Zanur's motives, much less its methods, Lyra switched to more mundane matters. "Irquit, we have some storage space available on our boat. What will you need to bring with you?"

  "Very little. Some simple kitchen utensils and a single change of clothing. We will eat your food or purchase our own along the way. The Zanur has provided us with money. We can also cook for you, if you wish." Etienne looked pleased. "Both Homat and I are accomplished foragers."

  Foraging was a word with many meanings in the Mai language, Lyra knew, referring to the ability to bargain sharply, scavenge efficiently, or steal without getting caught.

  "We also," Homat said, speaking for the first time, "brought no weapons with us, having been told that should we meet hostile peoples you would manage our defense. We did not wish to bring killing instruments with us."

  "Very thoughtful of you." Clearly Irquit is in charge of the little company, Lyra thought. But there was a natural shyness about Homat she found appealing. "That's all set­tled, then. If you would like to come help us with our loading-“

  "No thank you," Irquit said hastily. "If you do not object we would much prefer to remain outside." She was staring with wide Mai eyes at the imposing alien structure. "If we are not to depart until tomorrow we can sleep outside, here, on mats."

  "Are you afraid?" Etienne asked thoughtlessly.

  Lyra shot him an angry glance, snapped in terranglo, "Don't you have any empathy for alien psychology? Can't you see they're trying to cover their fear gracefully?"

  "I only thought that since these two are going to spend the next several months exploring strange country on a strange craft, they ought to start getting used to strangeness as soon as possible."

  "They are not afraid," the ambassador said. He was pick­ing his words with unusual care, Lyra thought. "There is something else."

  "What something else?" Lyra asked, still upset over her husband's lack of sensitivity.

  Ror de‑Kelwhoang looked uncomfortable. "I would rather not say."

  "Don't worry. We're scientists, here to study and learn about your ways and your world. We're just as interested in what you dislike as in what you like."

  De‑Kelwhoang did not look in Porlezmozmith's direction. "It is a question of appearances, you see. We place much value on appearance. There is truth in appearances. It is only that we have certain evil spirits cast in the form of.. ."

  "There is no need for apology." Porlezmozmith knew where the ambassador's desperate circumlocutions were heading. "We are used to shape prejudice." She spoke to the two guides. "Remain by yourselves outside, if it is your wish."

  Strange, Etienne thought. How could the Mai fear the thranx simply because of their shape? Lyra would have told him to read his history.

  "We do not mean to give offense," de‑Kelwhoang said quickly.

  "None taken," the commander assured him. "This is something we are used to dealing with. I and my assistants will withdraw. It was a delight to meet you, Ambassador. You and your fellows are welcome anytime at Steamer Sta­tion. As are those," she couldn't help adding undiplomati­cally but with ill‑concealed enjoyment, "of great Losithi."

  The ambassador stiffened at the mention of Po Rabi's rival but, good tactician that he was, retained his composure.

  "Thank you."

  Porlezmozmith and the rest of the thranx contingent de­parted, leaving the Redowls alone on the deck with the Mai.

  "We wish you much delight and good fortune in your studies," de‑Kelwhoang said earnestly. He did not look at the two guides. "We of Po Rabi hold scholarship in high regard, unlike the rulers of certain other city‑states. We hope you may see your way clear to sharing your knowledge with us after you return."

  "That is our intention," Lyra told him. "This is your world and we are guests upon it, and we are thankful for your assistance." She performed a gesture indicating great ap­preciation.

  Reassured, de‑Kelwhoang turned and walked slowly down the stairway ramp. Waiting hands helped him back into the boat. On command the oarsmen dipped their paddles and pushed away from the support pillar where they had tied up. The Redowls watched for a while as the boat turned east­ward. Then their attention shifted to their unexpected guests. Homat and Irquit waited patiently, their small bundles of cooking utensils and personal effects looking humble indeed.

  "You're sure you want to sleep out here?"

  "Please, de‑Lyra," said Irquit, "we would feel more com­fortable and would be out of everyone's way." She ventured the Mai smile, a thin parting of the lips that barely revealed the small fine teeth beyond. The corners of the mouth did not turn up.

  "As you prefer."

  "When are we to leave? We have heard so much of your wondrous boat and are most anxious to begin this great adventure with you."

  Homat smiled too but said nothing. Not the loquacious type, Etienne decided. Not that it mattered. The two Mai weren't coming along to provide casual conversation.

  "Tomorrow morning," he informed them. "We're almost ready and it'll take just a few minutes to put our boat in the water."

/>   Irquit looked puzzled. "It is not in the water now?"

  "No. It waits suspended by," he tried to shape his thicker lips and less bulbous cheeks to form the correct expression, "you'll see tomorrow. Showing is better than talking."

  "Yes, better than talking," Irquit agreed. She looked ner­vously toward the dark building beyond, abode of grotesque bug‑things. "We will be left alone out here?"

  "Yes." Lyra assured her. "Though our friends are used to a life beneath the ground and have a more flexible work­sleep cycle than we do, they still prefer to sleep during the hours of darkness. No one will disturb you out here and you won't be in the way."

  Irquit smiled again. "I am much delighted that we are going with you."

  "And we are much delighted to have you along," Lyra replied. "We'll see you again in the morning."

  "Come morning." The two females exchanged the palm­to‑palm caress a second time, though Lyra was convinced she'd never be able to compensate properly for the lack of a sixth digit.

  Chapter Four

  The sun was barely aloft as the hydrofoil was lowered into the calm water beneath the station. The readout that indicated air temperature clung desperately to the hundred­ degree mark, and there was no chance it would drop any lower. The Mai stood at the base of the loading ramp which had been dropped to the boat's stem deck, looking chilled and uncomfortable.

  Afire with excitement that had been lost during months of waiting, the Redowls ignored them. When the last supplies had been taken aboard and stowed, they thought to offer moral assistance to their suddenly reluctant passengers.

  Homat and Irquit boarded warily, eyes darting anxiously about in search of sails and oars. When Etienne tested the engine, both dashed for the rail and clung tightly to the unyielding metal.

  Lyra wiped morning sweat from beneath her sun visor and tried to comfort them. "It's all right, it's only our engine. The device that moves the boat. It's loud, but harmless. The spirits within are fully contained."

  "There are no sails," Irquit observed cautiously.