Orion Shall Rise

by Poul Anderson

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Iern let go and withdrew a pace. ‘I’m just – glad – too weak a word – glad to see you. Been waiting for hours. Wondered if you’d ever come. Since when has the tavern stayed open this late?’

  ‘It didn’t. But Sesi was in a mood for me. She usually gets that way when I’m doing a poem. Psychic pheromones?’ Plik’s tone sharpened. ‘Happens you are the subject, old chap. How’ve you fared?’

  He squinted through the shifty light. The Clansman wore a pysan’s blouse and baggy trousers. A slouch hat cast obscurity over his countenance, but it could be seen that he was shaven, scrubbed, and well nourished, more than could be said for the balladmaker.

  ‘In haste,’ Iern related. ‘You may have guessed I left Skyholm by parachute when Jovain took over.’ He nodded a trifle smugly as he glimpsed awe. ‘I knew who I could trust hereabouts, and made my way from place to place, generally at night. Early on, I took the added precaution of swapping my clothes for this outfit.’ His high spirits faded like a moonbeam sundered by a cloud. ‘I dared not linger anywhere. Outsiders are always noticed in the countryside, and the news of them spreads faster than you might suppose. I’d endanger any household where I stayed, and probably be tracked down in short order. Obviously I can’t go to my mother and her husband; they’ll be watched. Kemper seemed my best bet. Much easier to disappear in a city, right? I entered after dark and took my stance here, expecting you’d pass by.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You’re my hope now, Plik. You know every back alley and thieves’ den Kemper has got, and who in them would be willing to help, for a price or for love.’ Iern doubled his fists and hung his head. ‘I know it’s asking much. We’ve been drinking companions but scarcely blood brothers. This isn’t even your country. But where else can I turn? The respectable folk who might agree are too conspicuous, and have no experience at this sort of thing anyway. That’s why I decided against trying Beynac and its environs. I don’t think you’d run a great risk yourself. All I want is for you to introduce me to someone who’ll hide me until – till – I can see what I ought to do next. I’ve been counting on it.’

  Plik stood silent a while. The wind ruffled his thin hair. He began to shiver a little. Then, slowly: ‘I don’t believe I’d better.’

  The pilot stared at him, mute.

  ‘Not that I wouldn’t,’ Plik went on. ‘I’m with you more than you can understand, Talence Iern Ferlay. Your cause goes beyond you, beyond the Domain. There’s a transcendence about it that I can’t prove but do feel, through and through my marrow. Who am I to deny the gods what they are groping after, whatever that is?’

  The other man’s eyes widened further. ‘You’re a weird one.’

  True. Always have been. Else I’d never make a line of poetry. It’d all be mere verse. I freely admit most of it is.’ Plik’s grin, crooked as the moon, straightened out into somberness. The trouble is, I don’t know anybody we can rely on.’ He described the announcement of the reward. ‘Five thousand aers is a fortune in that class of society – in fact, it’s a way out of that class; and additional help is promised too. If a given person kept faith, somebody else would be bound to find out and turn you in.’

  Iern looked away, down a street that was a tunnel of darkness. ‘Jovain wants me worse than I realized,’ he said, word by word. ‘Why? I’m not leading the opposition to him. None exists yet, except in certain hearts.’ He paused. ‘Yes. When I’m dead, soon my wife – Yes, provided she doesn’t learn he had me murdered. He tried it himself, about three years ago.’

  Again Plik stood dumb, shivering more violently, until Iern perforce looked back at him. Pain twisted the homely face. ‘I’m sorry,’ the singer mumbled. ‘I thought you knew.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘About her. Well, the mails only go weekly between our Breizheg farms, and few have radios. It’s common knowledge here. Clansfolk newly returned from Skyholm have talked, and now the very newspapers –’ Plik laid hands on Iern’s shoulders. ‘Talence Faylis Ferlay is openly living with Captain Jovain. She stood by his side at the inaugural. She lent her name to a call for unity under his leadership. Yesterday she announced she’ll start a divorce process against you. She spoke of cruelty, infidelity, and desertion.’

  He dropped his clasp and waited. Iern did not stir. His expression was unreadable below the hatbrim. The wind piped. Cloud shadows fled across pavement and made the carven stones above appear to move.

  Finally Iern whispered, ‘I was afraid of that. Her brother – But I kept telling myself I was being unjust, Faylis herself would never … conspire, betray –’ A shudder went through him. He cleared his throat, spat, raised a boot and slammed it down so it boomed. The bitch!’ he roared. The treacherous little bitch!’

  ‘Sh, sh, keep quiet, a police squad might hear.’

  Iern spun on his heel and blundered back into the murk where wall met tower. He struck his fist on the hardness, kept it pressed there, jammed his brow to it, squeezed his eyes shut.

  Plik, waiting in the open, could not see that. He did hear strangled words – ‘I loved her once. She loved me’– and afterward the harsh, gut-deep sobbing of a man who has had no practice with tears.

  It didn’t take long. Iern came forth, gait machine-firm, back straight and head borne high. The hat still masked him. His tone was flat and remote: ‘Your pardon. It was a shock. Probably I can steal a boat and singlehand her to Angleylann or Eria. Can you suggest any good possibilities there?’

  Plik hugged himself and made his teeth stop chattering. ‘No, I’m afraid not. In the more prosperous nations, word about you would soon get back here, if the hunt is out as seriously as I think, and agents would come regardless of whatever sanctuary you’d been promised. You could go to earth in some wretched half-barbarian village, but do you have the skills to support yourself under those conditions? Nobody there can afford to feed an idler. And how would you keep in touch with your partisans on this side?’

  ‘Why should I? What’s the use?’

  ‘You will because you must,’ Plik said gravely. ‘I tell you, you smell of fate as the air before a thunderstorm smells of lightning.’ He pondered. ‘I’ve no idea what your destiny is. Maybe fate itself doesn’t yet know. Maybe you won’t save but will destroy the soul of your people. I only know that when something alien to a spirit enters it – and Jovain is bringing alienness with him – then demons break free.’

  ‘Arh, you and your flights of fancy!’ barked Iern. ‘No sense in standing about freezing. I’d better find me that boat and be away before dawn.’

  It blazed in Plik. He grabbed clumsily at the pysan blouse. ‘No, wait, wait! A refuge that could also become a base of operations –’ He dragged on the coarse fabric. His feet jittered beneath him. ‘Come on! We can talk while we go. I have the waterfront in mind anyway.’

  Iern’s manner remained metallic, but he fell into stride. The two left the square and started down a street beyond. It was narrow, lampless, hemmed in by walls; they must move carefully. ‘What is your notion?’

  ‘You know about the ships from the Maurai Federation and the Northwest Union, don’t you?’ Plik replied. They’ve lain in port for months, while personnel of theirs scuttled hither and yon about the Domain. Everybody’s irritatingly secretive, but I’m convinced that whatever their different objectives may be, both crews are from their respective governments.’ His laugh clanked. ‘Maybe they’re assigned to spy on each other.’

  Emotion tinged Iern’s voice: ‘By Charles, yes! Why didn’t I remember? The Maurai –’

  ‘M-m-m, I wouldn’t. I’ve tried to cultivate those sailors, and they’ve been cordial, invited me to parties aboard ship – and never let slip a flinking word that meant anything. I realize you favor closer relations with the Federation, but that doesn’t give you such a claim on their gratitude that they’d likely take the substantial risk of compromising their mission by hiding you. I repeat, they’re a quite unknown quantity. Besides, I doubt they could hide you
. You couldn’t be tucked away indefinitely below decks, I suppose, because visitors like me get guided tours all over the ship, and they plan on a lengthy stay. A white man in their midst would stand out like a hay-fevered nose.’

  ‘Well… who besides them? The Norrmen?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve gotten to know their chief somewhat, an amusing scoundrel by the name of Mikli Karst. My strong impression is he’d take you aboard, if only for love of mischief – though I daresay, too, he’d think of options that a popular member of the Aerogens, in exile, might open for his country. Remember, the Northwest Union is the underdog vis-a-vis the Maurai, and determined to change that condition. This requires taking chances.

  ‘Furthermore, he gave me to understand yesterday, when he stopped in for a drink, that he expects to leave betimes. Evidently he’s accomplished something important; he did fairly well at hiding his excitement, but I saw it aquiver in him, oh, yes, I saw. In fact, he was making arrangements – notifying the harbormaster, et cetera – arrangements for a cruise of a day or two, starting this morning, as an exercise for his men before they begin the long voyage home. Which gives you that much time already, out of sight of your enemies. For the short while left that the ship lies docked again, why, it shouldn’t be hard to keep you hidden. I imagine you could actually appear on deck at intervals, if you’re dressed like a Norrman. Those fellows come and go so much that a casual glance would lump you in among them.’

  ‘You’re persuasive,’ Iern said, ‘but I see a large non sequitur or two.’

  ‘Why should they not collect the reward for you, eh? Well, Mikli won’t, I warrant. The money is nothing to him; he has other sharks to fry. At worst, he’ll refuse and send you off – because he is a secret agent of some kind, who’ll not want to attract unnecessary attention to himself. If he does take you in, I assure you none of his crew will speak of it. I’ve found them as close-mouthed in their way as the Maurai.’

  Still Iern hesitated. ‘You talk fast,’ he said, ‘but your trade is words. Are you certain you’re a judge of people? And I – I’m a flyer and castlekeeper. Nothing more, really. What do I know about people, or politics, or, or anything? Where do you get this fantasy, Plik, that I could possibly lead more than a squadron of aircraft?’

  The street opened on the docks. Beyond shadowy hulls and raking, rocking masts, the water glimmered beneath the hasty moon. Watchmen’s lanterns were like stars in their loneliness. The wind was quieting down but growing colder yet.

  Iern looked west, toward the two great ships that had traveled halfway around the planet. He squared his shoulders. ‘We’ll try it,’ he said. ‘Lead on.’

  They met scant delay in gaining admission onto Mount Hood. Her commander, if not her captain, had left orders to inform him of any unusual happening, no matter the hour. After a brief colloquy, the guards at the rail extended a gangplank, and quite soon after that, Iern and Plik were having brandy-charged coffee in Mikli Karst’s cabin.

  The atmosphere was warm in there, thick and acrid from the host’s cigarettes and the poet’s clay pipe. Iern resisted an urge to fan the smoke off with his hand. It curled blue through the glow of two lamps. Outside came a strum of wind in rigging, slap of waves against strakes, creak of hawsers. The deck swayed slightly, to and fro. The men sat on a leather-covered bench that curled around a table. A filing cabinet and typewriter were secured nearby. Additional were a bed with a beaverskin blanket, a bureau, and a door to a private bath. Otherwise bookshelves, enclosed against motion, occupied bulkhead space. The volumes were in a variety of languages, and several were ancient – not from the century before the Judgment, for most such were long decayed, but from two or three hundred years earlier, when paper and bindings were durable. No pictures were displayed, though Plik had said Mikli was married and a father. The single personal item to be seen, held fast on its shelf by guying threads, was a statuette of a cat-headed woman in a pleated skirt. Mikli had remarked that he had recovered it, years ago, from what seemed to be the ruins of a museum in the Nile swamps.

  Talk had gone on until dawn was turning the portholes gray.

  ‘We’re agreed,’ said the small man. ‘I’ll get you to my country, and it will grant you asylum. Naturally, I cannot guarantee the conditions, but they’ll be loose.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’ asked Iern, and coughed.

  ‘Why, that quaint institution we are pleased to call the government of the Northwest Union has no power to keep anyone out whom a Lodge would make welcome, and I know that Wolf will be happy to receive you. Discreetly, no doubt; secretly if possible. You’ll have to bide your time before you contact any underground movements in the Domain. But at best they’ll need time themselves to organize … if they actually decide to. Never fear, Colonel Ferlay, we’ll meanwhile keep tedium from your doorstep.’

  Plik blew a smoke ring and watched it dissolve in the haze. ‘Human schemes,’ he said. ‘Ah, well.’

  Mikli raised a finger. His gaze pierced Iern’s. ‘Now please understand,’ he said. ‘As of this moment, you are free to go ashore and forget us. However, once you have accepted our protection, we’ll have to think about our own security too: which means you’ll have to obey orders. Are you prepared to do so?’

  ‘Of course,’ Iern told him. ‘I understand entirely, and accept your protection and thank you for it.’

  ‘Splendid!’ Enthusiasm rose in Mikli. ‘Then I can tell you that you’ll be in the western hemisphere quicker than you guessed.’ His look sought Plik. ‘This is not matter for drunken babble, or even for verse.’

  The Angleyman smiled. ‘I do babble in my cups like the proverbial brook,’ he said, ‘though I hope less monotonously. But have you ever heard me spill anything I shouldn’t? Most of being a poet is knowing what to omit.’

  The Norrman smiled back. ‘I wish we could talk further, you and I. We’re equally addicted to circumlocutions.’

  He turned to the Clansman. ‘We’re not going out today exclusively to refresh our seamanship,’ he said. ‘You may have noticed an aircraft pod aboard. We’re not supposed to fly over the Domain, but once we’re below the horizon, who cares? Not that we planned to mention the pod will be empty, when this ship returns here.’ He felt after a fresh cigarette. ‘The case is that we have urgent reason to send something home. Never mind what.’

  ‘Home?’snapped Iern. ‘How?’

  Mikli put a lighter to his cigarette and inhaled. ‘Ah, you would be aware of the problem, wouldn’t you? That the Maurai restrict what types of aircraft we may have. Nothing that could get from here to the Union in a single flight except perhaps, barely, the eastern wilderness fringe. Humiliating, no? Well, we’ll refuel along the way.’

  Iern visualized the globe. ‘That must be in Mong country.’

  Mikli gave him a sharp glance. ‘Eh? Why do you say that?’

  High-keyed as he was, Iern’s mind raced. ‘I don’t imagine you would leave a stationful of valuable fuel by itself in the wilds. Too big a temptation for local savages, to capture it, fill their lamps, and plunder the metal. Besides, you’d have trouble keeping its existence secret from the Maurai for long. So you have a hushed little arrangement with somebody. In Krasnaya, I think. It’s reasonably well located for the purpose, and not poor and primitive like Chukri or bustling and officious like Yuan.’

  ‘You’d better cultivate some hushedness yourself, Ferlay,’ snapped Mikli, before he donned amiability and suggested, ‘Concentrate your interest on the pilot. She’s a charming young lady who’s completed her task in Uropa. Alas, I do not recommend you make your attentions physical. She’s also a cougar.’

  He reapproached earnestness: ‘You cause me to modify the plan. I wasn’t going to ride along. But in light of this remarkable development – your imaginable potential – well, I’ll come too. I’d like to be a witness and have a voice when you meet our leaders.’

  Iern gave him a hard stare. ‘Besides,’ the Stormrider said, ‘you’ve more or less finished your work here, at least
for the present. Otherwise you’d never consider leaving. And the coup in Skyholm means that you, like the Maurai, had better do nothing more about the Domain until you can get a line on how things are likely to go.’

  Mikli cackled laughter. ‘Marvelous! Congratulations! You’re absolutely right. It’s as plain as a corpse at an orgy, but you are right.’

  He rose. ‘Well,’ he proposed, ‘what say I have Ronica Birken called, she’s the pilot, and a special breakfast prepared, and we get acquainted over it?’ He looked at the third man. ‘Um-m, Plik, I hate to be inhospitable, but perhaps it would be better all around if you don’t hear certain things.’

  The Angleyman smiled and unfolded his lanky length. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘Anyhow, I’m dog-weary, and after getting some sleep I have a song to finish.’

  Iern glanced uneasily upward from his seat. ‘Is that the one you mentioned, about me?’ he asked.

  Plik nodded. ‘Yes, but have no fears. It’s much less about you than about the myth of you.’

  ‘What myth?’

  ‘Ah, hardly more than a fresh-begotten cell in the womb. It’ll grow, and when it’s born – But only poets recognize myths for what they are, and who really listens to poets?’

  Plik stooped. His arms went around Iern, his lips close to the Clansman’s ear. ‘Farewell, Prince,’ he breathed. ‘We may never see each other again, but when you’ve become a god, or a hero or a demon, I’ll still remember you were a damned good drinking companion.’

  ‘What the chaos do you mean?’ Iern returned the embrace. ‘Oh, never mind. You’re crazy, but you did save me and I do thank you, more’n I can ever tell. Goodbye.’

  Plik straightened and left the cabin. Mikli followed him to the door and signaled the watch, who let the visitor go down the gangplank.