by neetha Napew
They shook hands.
The bulk of the Ice Captain seemed almost to fill the little cabin. He leaned forward confidentially. 'Remember how those two treated you, and do as I say. You stay in this cabin. No one must know of your existence.'
'While you go ashore and get drunk again. Where's Abathy?'
A big hand came up in a cautionary gesture. 'I'm getting old and I want no fuss. I will not get drunk. I will return as soon as possible. I want to get you safe to Lordryardry, where you will be well looked after, you and that magical timepiece of yours. There, you can tell me about the vessel that brought you here, and other inventions. But first I have some business to transact, and that letter to deliver.'
Billy became more anxious. 'Krillio, where is Abathy?'
'Don't make yourself ill again. Abathy has gone. You know she was travelling only as far as Ottassol.'
'She's left without saying good-bye? Without a kiss?'
'Div was jealous, so I hustled her away. I'm sorry. She sent you her love. She's got a living to make, like everyone else.'
'A living to make...' Speech failed him.
Muntras took the opportunity to slip nimbly out of the cabin and lock the door from the outside. He pocketed the key, smiling as he did so.
'I'll be back soon,' he said reassuringly as Billy started to hammer on the door. He climbed the companionway stairs, crossed the deck, and strolled down the gangplank. Across the wharf was a tunnel leading into the loess. A notice above it read LORDRYARDRY ICE TRADING CO. TRANSIT GOODS ONLY.
This was a modest wharf. The main Lordryardry wharf was half a mile farther downstream, where the seagoing ships tied up, and a grander affair entirely. But here few eyes pried, and security was good. Muntras walked down the tunnel and entered a checking office.
Two clerks, alarmed to see the owner arrive, stood up, hiding playing cards under ledgers. The other occupants of the office were Div and Abath.
'Thank you, Div. Will you take these clerks away and let me have a moment alone with Abathy?'
In his sullen way, Div did as instructed. When the door had closed behind the three men, Muntras locked it and turned to the girl.
'Sit down, my dear, if you like.'
'What do you want? The journey's over - at long last -and I ought to be on my way.' She looked huffy and at the same time anxious. The sight of the locked door worried her. In a way she had of drawing down her mouth in displeasure, Muntras recognized her mother's gesture.
'Don't be cheeky, young lady. You've behaved properly till now, and I'm pleased with you. In case you don't realize it, Captain Krillio Muntras is a valuable ally for a young slip of a thing like you, old though I am. I'm pleased with you, and I intend to reward you for how amiable you were with me and Billish.'
She relaxed slightly.
'I'm sorry. It's just that you were making a - a bit of a mystery of it. I mean, I would have liked to have said good-bye to Billish. What is wrong in his harneys?'
As she was talking, he was removing some silver pieces from his body belt. He held them out to her, smiling.
Abath came closer and, as she reached out to take the money, he grasped her wrist tightly with his other hand. She gave a cry of pain.
'Now, girl, you can have this money, but first I'm going to get a confidence out of you. You know that Ottassol is a big port?'
He squeezed her wrist till she hissed, 'Yes.'
'You know there are therefore many foreigners in this big port?'
Squeeze. Hiss.
'You know among those foreigners are people from other continents?'
Another squeeze. Another hiss.
'Like Hespagorat, for instance?'
Squeeze and hiss.
'And even far Sibornal?'
Squeeze, hiss.
'Including people of the Uskut race?'
Squeeze - pause - hiss.
Although it seemed from the furrowing of Muntras's brow that this catechism was not over, he let go of the wrist, which had grown red during interrogation. Abath took the silver coins and tucked them into a pocket in the roll of luggage she had by her, making no comment beyond a dark look.
'Sensible girl. Take what you can in life. And I am correct in thinking that you had some dealings with a certain man of Uskut race, in Matrassyl, in the way of the usual commodities. Isn't that so?'
She looked defiant again and stood alertly as if thinking of attacking him.
'What usual commodities might those be?'
'The ones you and your mother trade in, my dear -money and kooni. Look, it is no secret to me, because I had the word off your mother and have kept it under my palm ever since. It's been so long that I need you to remind me of the name of that man of Uskut race with whom you exchanged those commodities.'
Abath shook her head. Tears gleamed in her eyes. 'Look, ' I thought you were a friend. Forget it! The feller's left Matrassyl anyhow, and gone back to his own country. He got into trouble... That's why I came south, if you want to know. My mother should have held her slanje tongue.'
'I see. Your money supply ran out - or ran away... Now, I just want to hear you pronounce his name, and then you're free.'
She put her hands up to her face and said into them, 'Io Pasharatid.'
A moment's silence.
'You did aim high, my little fillock. I hardly believed it. The ambassador of Sibornal, no less! And not only kooni but guns involved. Did his wife know?'
'What do you think?' She was defiant again. She outshone her mother.
He became brisk. 'Very well. Thank you, Abathy. You now are clear that I have a hold on you. You have a hold on me. You know about Billish. Nobody else must know about Billish. You must keep quiet and never mention his name, not even in your sleep. He was just one more customer. Now he has gone, and you've been paid.
'If you mention Billish to anyone, I shall slip a little note to the Sibornalese representative here, and you will be in trouble. In this religious land, intercourse between Borlienese ladies and foreign ambassadors is strictly illegal. It always leads to blackmail - or murder. If word gets out about you and Pasharatid, you'll never be seen again. Do we understand each other?'
'Oh, yes, you hrattock! Yes.'
'Good. That's sensible. My advice is to keep your mouth and your legs closed. I'm going to take you to a friend of mine whom I have to see. He's a scholar. He needs a housemaid. He will pay you regularly and well. I'm not a natural bully, Abathy, although I enjoy getting my way. So I am doing you a favour - for your mother's sake as well as yours. You'd soon go to the bad on your own in Ottassol.'
He paused to see what she said, but she merely watched him with untrusting eyes.
'Remain with my scholarly friend in his comfortable home, and you will have no need to turn into a whore. You can probably find a good husband - you're pretty and not a fool. It's a disinterested offer.'
'And your friend'll keep an eye on me for you, I suppose.'
He looked at her and pushed his lips forward in a pout. 'He's recently married and won't molest you. Come. We'll go and see him. Wipe your nose.'
Ice Captain Muntras called a one-wheeled sedan. He and AbathVasidol climbed in and off went the sedan, pulled by two veterans of the Western Wars, who had between them two-and-a-half arms, three legs, and about the same number of eyes.
In this style, they creaked through the underground lanes of Ottassol and eventually entered Ward Court, where daylight shone down brightly from the square of sky overhead. At the bottom of a flight of steps was a solid door with a sign above. They climbed out of the cramped conveyance, the veterans accepted a coin, and Muntras rang the doorbell.
It was hardly to be expected of a man in his profession that Bardol CaraBansity, deuteroscopist, should show surprise, whoever called on him; but he did raise an eyebrow at the girl while shaking the hand of his old acquaintance.
Over wine, which his loving wife served, CaraBansity professed himself delighted to instal AbathVasidol in his household.
&nb
sp; 'I don't suppose you will wish to carry hoxney carcasses about, but there are less alarming jobs to be done. Good. Welcome.'
His wife appeared less delighted by the new arrangement, but said nothing.
'Then, sir, I shall be off, with grateful compliments to you both,' said Muntras, rising from his chair.
CaraBansity rose too, and this time there was no mistaking his surprise. Of recent years, the Ice Captain had developed leisurely habits. When delivering his fresh ice -of which the CaraBansity household and its corpses consumed a fair share - the trader generally settled in for a long pleasant talk. This haste must have some meaning, thought CaraBansity.
'In gratitude for the introduction to this young lady, I will at least ride with you back to your ship,' he said. 'No, no, I insist.'
And he did insist, to such effect that the discomfited Muntras found himself in no time with his knees pressed against the deuteroscopist's knees and their noses almost touching, and nowhere to cast his regard except into the eyes in front of his, as they jolted in a sedan towards the TRANSIT GOODS ONLY warehouse.
'Your friend SartoriIrvrash,' the Ice Captain said.
'Well, I trust?'
'No. The king's dismissed him and he's disappeared.'
'Sartori disappeared. Where?'
'If people knew where, it would not count as a disappearance,' said Muntras humourously, dislodging one knee.
'What happened, for beholder's sake?'
'You've heard about the queen of queens, of course.'
'She came through here on her way to Gravabagalinien. According to the newsletter, five thousand hats were mislaid, having been thrown carelessly into the air as she arrived at the royal dock.'
'JandolAnganol and your friend fell out over the Massacre of the Myrdolators.'
'And then he disappeared?'
Muntras nodded his head so gently that their noses scarcely touched.
'Into the palace dungeons, where others have gone?'
'Very likely. Or was clever enough to flee the city.'
'I must discover what has happened to his manuscripts.'
Silence between them.
When the sedan chair reached the warehouse, Muntras said, resting his hand on the other's sleeve. 'You are too kind, but there is no need for you to get out.'
Looking as confused as possible, CaraBansity climbed out nevertheless. 'Come, I know your ruse. A good one. My wife can become better acquainted with your pretty AbathVasidol while you and I have a quiet farewell drink aboard your boat, eh? Don't think I didn't grasp your scheme.'
'No, but - ' While Muntras was anxiously paying off the sedan men, the deuteroscopist was marching in his ponderous way towards the dock where the Lordryardry Lady was tied.
'I expect you have a bottle of the Exaggerator aboard?' inquired CaraBansity cheerfully, as Muntras caught up with him. 'And how did you acquire this young lady you have so kindly deposited with me?'
'She's a friend of an old friend. Ottassol's a dangerous place for innocent young girls like Abathy.'
There lay the Lordryardry Lady, with two phagor guards nearby, wearing armbands bearing the name of the company.
'I'm sorry, but I cannot let you aboard, my friend,' said Muntras, stepping into CaraBansity's path, so that once more their eyes almost touched.
'Why, what's the matter? I thought this was your last trip?'
'Oh, I shall be back... I live only just across the sea...'
'But you are always terrified of pirates.'
Muntras took a deep breath. 'I will tell you the truth, and keep it under your palm. I have a case of plague on board. I should have declared it to the port authorities but I didn't, being anxious to get home. I cannot let you on board. Definitely. It would endanger your life.'
'Mm.' CaraBansity wrapped a meaty fist round his chin, looking at Muntras from under his brow. 'In my trade, I'm familiar with disease and probably immune to it. For the sake of the Great Exaggerator, I'll take the risk.'
'No, sorry. You're too good a friend to lose. I will see you again soon when I'm in less of a hurry, and we'll drink ourselves under the table...' Talking in a distracted manner, he shook CaraBansity's hand and almost ran from him. Pounding up the ship's gangplank, he called out to his son and anyone else aboard that they were going to sail immediately.
CaraBansity stood on the quay, watching until the Ice Captain disappeared below decks. He then turned slowly on his heel and began walking away.
At a certain point into the lanes, he stopped short, snapped his fingers, and began to laugh. He thought that he had solved the minor mystery. To celebrate a further success to deuteroscopy, he turned into the next court and walked into a tavern where he was not known.
'A half-Exaggerator,' he ordered. A treat for himself, a reward. People gave themselves away with talk without knowing it, for the underlying reason that they hated the feeling of guilt and therefore betrayed themselves. With that understanding, he recalled what Muntras had said in the sedan.
'Into the palace dungeons...' 'Very likely.' 'Very likely' means neither yes nor no. Of course. The Ice Captain had rescued SartoriIrvrash from the king and was smuggling him to safety into Dimariam. The matter was too dangerous for Muntras to tell even SartoriIrvrash's friend in Ottassol...
Sipping the fuming drink, he let his mind wander over the possibilities which this secret knowledge opened up.
In his long and colourful career, Ice Captain Muntras had had to play some tricks on friend and enemy alike. Many mistrusted him; yet towards Billy he felt strong paternal affection, reinforced perhaps by the difficulties he experienced with his own son, the weak-minded Div. Muntras liked Billy's helplessness and valued the store of startling knowledge which seemed so much a part of Billy. Billy was indeed a herald from another world; Muntras did not doubt it. He was determined to protect the strange creature from all comers.
But before setting sail for his homeland of Dimariam, he had a small piece of business to attend to. His leisurely journey down the Takissa had not made Muntras forget his promise to the queen. At his main wharf in Ottassol, he summoned to his office one of his captains, the man who sailed the coastal trader Lordryardry Lubber, and laid MyrdemInggala's letter before him.
'You're bound for Randonan, yes?'
'As far as Ordelay.'
'Then you will deliver this document to the Borlienese general, Hanra TolramKetinet, of the Second Army. You are personally responsible for putting it into the general's hands. Understand?'
At the main wharf, the Ice Captain transferred Billy onto the fine oceangoing Lordryardry Queen, the pride of his fleet. The ship was capable of transporting 200 tons of finest block ice. Now, on its homeward journey, it carried cargoes of timber and grain. Together with an excited Billy and a sullen Div.
A favouring breeze filled the sails until the cordage strained and sang. The prow swung southwards like the needle of a magnet, pointing to distant Hespagorat.
The shores of Hespagorat, together with the doleful animals which inhabited them, were familiar sights to everyone aboard the Earth Observation Station. They were watched with extra attention as the fragile wooden ship bearing Billy Xiao Pin approached them.
Drama was not a feature of life aboard Avernus. It was avoided. Emotion: superfluous, as 'On the Prolongation of One Helliconian Season Beyond the Human Life-span' had it. Yet dramatic tension was evident, especially among the youth of the six great families. Everyone was forced into the situation of disagreeing or agreeing with Billy's actions.
Many said that Billy was ineffectual. It was more difficult to admit that he showed courage and considerable ability to adapt to different conditions. Under the arguments that raged was a wistful hope that Billy might somehow convince people on Helliconia that they, the Avernians, existed.
True, Billy appeared to have persuaded Muntras. But Muntras was not considered to be important. And there were indications that Billy, having convinced Muntras, would take no further steps in that direction, but merely,
selfishly, enjoy his remaining days before the helico virus attacked him.
The great disappointment was that Billy had failed where JandolAnganol and SartoriIrvrash were concerned. It had to be admitted that they had on their minds matters of more immediate concern.
The question that few people on the Avernus asked was, What, effectively, could the king and his chancellor have done had they taken the trouble to understand Billy and come to believe in the existence of his 'other world'? For that question led to the reflection that Avernus was far less important to Helliconia than Helliconia was to Avernus.
Billy's successes and failures were compared with those of previous Helliconia Holiday winners. Few winners had done much better than Billy, if truth were told. Some had been killed as soon as they arrived on the planet. Women had fared worse than men: the noncompetitive atmosphere on the Avernus favoured equality of the sexes; on the ground, matters were conducted differently, and most women winners ended their lives in slavery. One or two strong personalities had had their stories believed, and in one case a religious cult had grown around this Saviour from the Skies (to quote one of his titles). The cult had died when a force of Takers eradicated the villages where the believers lived.
The strongest personalities to descend had concealed their origins entirely and lived by their wits.
One characteristic all winners shed. Despite often severe warnings from their Advisors, all had enjoyed or at lease attempted sexual intercourse with the Helliconians. The moths always headed for the brightest flame.
Billy's treatment merely strengthened a general aversion among the families to the religions of Helliconia. The consensus was that those religions got in the way of sensible, rational living. The inhabitants - believers and unbelievers alike - were seen as struggling in the toils of falsehood. Nowhere was there an attempt to be placid and view one's life as an art form.
On distant Earth, conclusions would be different. The chapter in the long cavalcade of history which concerned JandolAnganol, SartoriIrvrash, and Billy Xiao Pin would be watched with a grief superior to any on the Avernus, a grief in which detachment and empathy were nicely balanced. The peoples of Earth, for the most part, had developed beyond that stage where religious belief is suppressed, or supplanted by ideology, or translated into fashionable cults, or atrophied into a source of references for art and literature. The peoples of Earth could understand how religion allowed even the labouring peasants their glimpse of eternity. They understood that those with least power have most need of gods. They understand that even Akhanaba paved the way for a religious sense of life which needed no God.
