Maske: Thaery

by Jack Vance

  The response, which Jubal could not distinguish, satisfied her; she beckoned, and wheezing from the exertion trotted ahead to a door marked: Assistant Supervisor. Thrusting her head through, she remarked: “Here is the Glint.”

  Eyvant’s office was rather more pleasant than the waiting room. A Chrystosoram rug, in blocks of faded greens and blues, covered the floor. The furnishings were an eclectic set of antiques: a desk of carved blacking , a pale green velveteen settee, a table with a tea urn, a pair of Mork chieftain-chairs. Eyvant Dasduke, standing by the far wall, inspected Jubal with a supercilious expression. “You are confused, as well as very late,” he said in an even voice. “I ordered you to report to Chamber 95 at the first hour of the morning.”

  “I remember your instructions,” said Jubal. “I disregarded them for very good reason.”

  “Personal concerns?”

  “Yes, naturally.”

  “I emphasize that your official duties take absolute precedence over personal considerations.”

  “The ‘personal concerns’ in this case supersede my official duties. Please give me credit for at least a primitive level of judgment.”

  Eyvant raised his eyebrows. “You do not respond amiably to censure.”

  “Censure should be based upon understanding of the facts, not an automatic outcry.”

  “My tingling ears!” murmured Eyvant, “and what have we here?” He went to lean against his desk.

  “What then are the facts?”

  “The matter most directly concerns Nai the Hever. By his orders I must approach him through you, which is why I am here.”

  Eyvant allowed himself to display a flicker of interest. “You may safely explain to me.” He held up his hand. “Yes, yes, I know. I am a paltry subordinate; you are a genuine Glint from the highest crag of Junchion, and intend to deal only at the most important levels. Nevertheless, in Wysrod, Nai the Hever is inaccessible until I request his attention. By this same token I do not casually put through every hole-in-trouser vagabond. So please explain yourself.”

  Jubal seated himself on the velvet settee. “You are Nai the Hever’s personal confidant?”

  “In certain matters.”

  “My business concerns Nai the Hever in an intimate sense; when I finally confer with him, he will have to learn that you insisted upon inquiring into his private affairs.”

  For an instant Eyvant looked blank. Then he smiled grimly, and seating himself thrust his long elegant legs across the carpet. “Your conduct is bizarre—even for a Glint. Instead of the propitiation typical of a new appointee, you prefer to hector that superior who will control every stage of your career. The tactics are novel; I ask myself, will they prove successful? I admit that I am starting to take an interest in your future.”

  “I am here today in a private capacity,” said Jubal, “not as an employee of the Bureau.”

  Eyvant tilted his head back and laughed, and for an instant seemed someone far different from his usual self. “I will explain an elemental fact. When you become an employee of D3, you are altogether in D3: morning, day, night, asleep, awake. So now, with this understood, explain your business.”

  Jubal made no further protest. “The substance of the matter is this: last night the daughter of Nai the Hever, and I refer to the Lady Mieltrude, committed a serious crime. She procured a warrant against me on factitious grounds, then immediately, without my knowledge, obtained a totally illegal validation from an arbiter. She then sent forth two thugs to torture and kill me. Since I am Jubal Droad and a Glint, the thugs may or may not survive. Still, I am far from pleased. The offense cries out for justice.”

  Eyvant heaved a weary sigh. “First, remember this: a sanitary inspector never becomes agitated.

  Secondly, this: girls will be girls. You demolished her favorite; in her pique she proposed the same for you.”

  “Did I thrust Ramus Ymph into a tank of algesic fluid? Did I break his arms and legs in thirteen places? Is this a lover’s solicitude, or vicious irresponsibility?”

  “Calm yourself. The matter can be adjusted. I will quit the warrant; give it here.”

  Jubal produced a document. Eyvant read with austere indifference. “This isn’t—” He read on, and his complacence disappeared. He stared at Jubal. “You are mad.”

  Jubal seemed bewildered. “I cannot understand your subtleties.”

  “I mean that your conduct borders upon the inconceivable.”

  Jubal slowly shook his head. “You disapprove of this document?”

  “Yes.”

  “By Thariot law, a crime must be properly requited; this is common knowledge. I therefore secured this warrant against Mieltrude Hever. I now notify her father, to learn if he wishes arbitration.”

  “You are either insane or a fool.”

  “I am a sanitary inspector. You have forced me to reveal Nai the Hever’s private affairs; now what do you propose to do?”

  “Consult Nai the Hever. What else?” With exaggerated politeness Eyvant inquired, “Would you care to take a cup of tea while you wait?”

  “It is kind of you.”

  “Not at all.” Eyvant touched a toggle; a door across the room slid open and a young woman considerably more comely than the crone in the outer office looked through. “Sir?”

  “A cup of tea for this gentleman. He has had a taxing experience and needs refreshment.”

  “Immediately.”

  Eyvant left the chamber. A moment later the young woman brought tea and a dish of small cakes. “Will these suffice?”

  “Very well,” said Jubal, and the young woman withdrew.

  Five minutes passed. Eyvant returned, his usually placid brow creased with a frown. “Nai the Hever wishes to consult with you.”

  “So I would suppose.”

  “What are your exact intentions in this matter?”

  “Does not the warrant state them in explicit language? I intend to see the vixen punished.”

  “It has occurred to you that Nai the Hever is one of the most influential men of Thaery?”

  “What has that to do with the case? If he is honest, he will be anxious to assist me.”

  “Well, we shall see. Come along.”

  They walked along creaking halls and dismal corridors, up an escalator to a passage illuminated by groined skylights. At a door enameled glossy vermilion, Eyvant halted and knocked. Nai the Hever himself slid the door aside. Passing through, Jubal found himself standing on a blue, white and black stardazzle carpet under a skylight of a hundred facets. At a signal Eyvant went back the way he had come.

  Nai the Hever took Jubal to a couch, motioned him to sit, and deliberately settled himself in a nearby chair. “Tell me precisely what occurred.”

  Now was not the time for expansiveness or passionate imprecations. Jubal recounted the events as tersely as possible.

  Nai the Hever’s quicksilver eyes never left his face. “And why did you procure your own warrant? What were your motives?”

  “Resentment and a desire for justice, respectively.”

  “I notice that you carefully displayed the warrant to Eyvant Dasduke.”

  “I had no choice. He insisted upon learning why I wanted to see you.”

  “Well then—exactly why do you wish to consult with me?”

  “So that you may, if you choose, put this warrant to the arbitrator.”

  “Has it occurred to you that I might easily channel this warrant to Delglas Ymph?”

  “You would be ill-advised to do so.”

  “And why?”

  “When your daughter used his connivance to validate her warrant against me?”

  “I would show very poorly. Of course, I could have you quietly killed.”

  “Not quietly. My uncle Vaidro has been apprised of the entire affair.”

  Nai the Hever looked over the warrant. “You specify ‘penal servitude for two years, with a stroke of the rat-whisk each midafternoon, at the discretion of the jailer.’” He frowned. “Under the c
ircumstances, a relatively mild demand.”

  “It is sufficient. She is witless, irresponsible and over-civilized. Also, why should I unreasonably offend you?”

  “Why, in fact, should you offend me at all?” Nai the Hever paused, then said reflectively: “So far, we have not listened to Mieltrude. In all candor, I am astounded by her act… Yes, most curious. Now as to this warrant: do you intend to implement it?”

  “If your daughter has procured a warrant, as it seems, why should I not?”

  “I might well resent your conduct, and your career would suffer.”

  “What career? Junior Assistant Inspector, at seventeen toldecks a week? My ‘career’ hardly weighs in the balance. Still, I am not unreasonable. I can see circumstances—”

  Nai the Hever interposed a thoughtful remark: “You used the word ‘justice’. I would not demean you by suggesting a promotion with an increase in salary; we must seek elsewhere for resolution.”

  Jubal frowned. After a moment he asked: “Do you intend to arbitrate this warrant?”

  “Naturally not.” Nai the Hever, looking across the room, tapped his pale fingers on the arm of the chair.

  “I will inquire into the matter; in the meantime, please delay the service of your warrant.”

  “You do not understand my problems! The warrant against me, no matter how illegal, still operates.”

  Nai the Hever touched a toggle on the wall. “Connect me to the Faithful Retribution Company.”

  Several musical chords in crescendo announced that the connection had been made. A grave bass voice spoke: “Who calls on Faithful Retribution?”

  “This is the Nobilissimus Nai the Hever. Yesterday you accepted a spurious warrant, purportedly signed by my daughter, the Lady Mieltrude. Do you admit as much?”

  The grave voice raised a half-tone in pitch. “We did indeed accept such a warrant, Nobilissimus. With such a complainant, would we suspect duplicity?”

  “The warrant was obviously fraudulent. An innocent man has been victimized.”

  “Innocent man? Who crippled my operatives? He is a menace to law and order and must be reprimanded.

  I have assigned four keen operatives to the task.”

  “On whose warrant?”

  There was silence. “The warrant is invalid, Nobilissimus?”

  “Naturally, as you well know. If your operatives process Jubal Droad, I will personally swear an executive warrant against you, at triple damages.”

  The grave bass voice became baritone. “I am convinced of my error, Nobilissimus. I will cancel the emergency.”

  “Make absolutely certain. I hold you responsible, and you still have not heard the last of this.”

  “Be tolerant, Nobilissimus! I acted on the strength of your name!”

  “You insult me,” said Nai the Hever. “Disconnect.” He turned to Jubal, a sardonic twist to his lips. “You are safe from official justice.”

  “What of the magistrate Delglas Ymph?”

  “His case will be considered by the proper agency. You may consider the case closed.”

  To his annoyance Jubal found that he had nothing more to say. In some perplexing fashion advantage had again eluded his grasp. He rose to his feet. “In that case I had best be pursuing my ‘career’. In the meantime, I am to restrain this warrant until you have made inquiries and clarified the matter to me.”

  “That is the essence of the matter,” said Nai the Hever in his driest voice. He touched the toggle. “Eyvant Dasduke.”

  Eyvant entered the room. Nai the Hever said: “We have come to an understanding. Take Jubal Droad to the orientation officer, that he may begin his training. Let us hope that there are no more interruptions, since already his pay has been diminished by the value of one half day.”

  “What!” roared Jubal. “My miserable seventeen toldecks?”

  Eyvant said smoothly: “The Department holds itself rigidly separate from its operatives’ private lives.

  Your pay starts when you report for duty.”

  “So be it,” sighed Jubal. “Please conduct me to my work before I fall in debt to the Department.”

  Chapter 8

  In a musty hall deep in the Parloury basements Jubal received instruction from a pair of middle-aged men, of castes not immediately identifiable. Clary was the older and more sedate of the two; Vergaz, a wiry nervous man with a restless gaze, affected the ‘Windy Mountain’ hairstyle, close-cropped on top with side-tufts drawn through a series of gold beads.

  Clary explained the theory of inspectorship. “Basically, the work is simple. You study the Complaint Ledger; you look; you measure; you smell. When in doubt, consult the Code. From time to time, say: ‘This will not do.’ If the innkeeper is sufficiently deferential; if his offenses are trivial, and not the same offenses of which he was previously warned; if his beer is sound and his beds soft: then you endorse his certificate. Otherwise, you plaster a great yellow seal across his door, and—ignoring bribes, threats and outcries—you roll smartly off on your ercycle.”

  “All this seems well within my compass,” said Jubal. “Where do I obtain the ercycle?”

  “It will be supplied, along with a valise, a day and night uniform, and a copy of the Regulatory Code. I touched upon the subject of bribes, and I do not recommend them, as they are a poisonous solace. Your pay, a meager twenty-four toldecks though it may be—”

  “Seventeen toldecks.”

  “—is far more comfortable money. A bribe is usually discovered; you are rebuked and humiliated. If not, the innkeeper takes a high hand and serves you bramble wine and the dry end of the joint.”

  “No innkeeper would dare suborn a Glint.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” said Clary. “Still, innkeepers are a mettlesome lot. Here is your Code; assimilate as much as necessary, and keep it at the ready, like a warrior with his weapon. And that is the sum of it!

  You are now a Junior Assistant Inspector, except for a few incidental techniques which Vergaz will demonstrate.”

  Jubal heaved a grateful sigh. “I had feared that the course might be tedious.”

  “Not at all! Now, in regard to these incidental techniques, we might as well commence with calisthenics.”

  On the following day Vergaz told Jubal: “We must prepare you for every phase of your work. Innkeepers, as a group, are unpredictable. Often, when an inspector condemns an innkeeper’s drains, or faults his cuisine, or perhaps only speaks a cordial word to his daughter, the innkeeper reacts with paranoid excitement, and the inspector must know a few simple tricks of both defense and retaliation. Over the centuries we have evolved a secret system which is never revealed to the general public. For example, aim a blow at my face. Come now, in earnest!”

  Three weeks later Jubal protested: “I had no idea so much agility and unprincipled cunning was demanded of an inspector.”

  “You have learned the merest rudiments,” said Vergaz. “For instance—” his eyes shifted across the room; his expression changed. “Ah, Nobilissimus!”

  Jubal looked around, only to receive a kick in the backside.

  “Just so,” said Vergaz. “An inspector should never allow his attention to be distracted. A favorite trick of the innkeeper is to keep the inspector chatting over a bottle of spirits while scullions scour the kitchen, and empty pots of illicit offal.”

  “I will hold this in mind.”

  Clary said: “It is also necessary to develop your mental powers. The brain is a remarkable organ which junior and assistant grades never use to best capacity. We will subdivide our exercises into categories.

  First, acuity and awareness. Second, mnemonics. Third, precognition, intuition, telepathy and the like.

  Fourth, simulation and dissimulation. Fifth, the techniques of persuasion and suggestion. Sixth, induction and deduction. So much is adequate to the seventeen-toldeck level. What time is it? Middle afternoon?

  We might as well begin at once.” He looked across the room and his expression changed. “Nobilis
simus!”

  Jubal was not to be tricked the same way twice. “Ignore the old buffoon. Let him wait until we are finished for the day.”

  “When you can spare the time,” said Nai the Hever, “I wish a few words with you.”

  “Certainly,” said Jubal after a pause. “At your convenience.”

  They departed the orientation chamber and entered an elevator which conveyed them to the fifth floor.

  Nai the Hever led Jubal on a detour through a white-tiled corridor banded with dull metal strips. A light over the exit flashed blue. Nai the Hever nodded in satisfaction. “A signal that no eavesdrops, microphones, or beacons are concealed upon our persons.”

  Jubal was more amused than impressed. “Who would eavesdrop upon us?”

  “You ask a most profound question,” said Nai the Hever. “I can answer only this: strange events are occurring upon this world. Do you think Thaery a haven of placidity, a bucolic paradise? You are wrong.”

  Leaving the white-tiled passage, he led the way to his office. “Please be seated.”

  Jubal settled himself into a chair and waited politely while Nai the Hever looked over the messages which had been placed on his desk. He found nothing urgent and turned his attention upon Jubal. “Now—to business.”

  “I take it,” said Jubal, “that you have fully analyzed the whole affair?”

  Nai the Hever looked at him blankly. “What affair is this?”

  “The illicit warrant solicited by your daughter against my person; what else?”

  Nai the Hever considered. “Yes. That matter. It is not yet resolved. I made an inquiry or two, but elicited ambiguous information. In all candor I have been preoccupied with matters of large scope.” He raised his hand as Jubal started to make an indignant comment. “Quite so. We will talk of it another time.”

  “It has already been three weeks!”

  Nai the Hever’s voice took on an edge. “All will be arranged to your satisfaction. Now listen closely. As you may have divined, D3 is a complex organization. Occasionally we undertake inspections which might be considered unusual. These inspections are always secret, and our present conversation is confidential; you must never repeat it, in gist or otherwise. Is that clear?”