by Jack Vance
At noon the men, increasingly dubious, ceased paddling and once more searched the horizon. As before, there was nothing visible save the line dividing dark blue from bright blue. The floats by now should be well within sight.
Had they veered too far north or too far south? The men deliberated and decided that while their course had generally been true west, the original direction of flight might have been something south of east. In validation of this view was the fact that they had passed the intervening line of floats to the south. Hence Old Floats in all probability lay behind the northern horizon. They agreed to paddle four hours to the north, then, if nothing was seen, to return to the south.
Toward the waning of afternoon, with the rain clouds piling up, far smudges showed themselves. Now they halted, lowered the horn, to hear ‘crunch crunch crunch’ with startling loudness. The men twisted the tube to detect the direction of the sound. It issued from the north. Crouching low, they listened, ready to paddle away if the sound grew louder. But it seemed to lessen and the direction veered to the east. Presently it reached near-inaudibility, and the men proceeded.
The floats took on substance, extending both east and west; soon the characteristic profiles could be seen and then the hoodwink towers. Dead ahead was Aumerge, with Apprise Float yet to the west.
So they paddled up the chain, the floats and beloved names drifting past, floats where their ancestors had lived and died; Aumerge, Quincunx, Fay,
Hastings, Quatrefoil with its curious cloverleaf shape and then the little outer group, The Bandings, beyond, after a gap of a mile, Apprise Float.
The sun set, the hoodwink towers began to flicker, but the configurations could not be read. The men paddled the coracle toward Apprise. Verdure bulked up into the sky; the sounds and odors of the Old Floats wafted across the water, inflicting nostalgic pangs upon each of the men. They landed in a secluded little cove which had been described to them by Phyral Berwick, and covered the coracle with leaves and rubbish. According to the plan, two remained by the coracle, while the third, one Henry Bastaff, went off across the float toward the central common and Apprise Market.
Hundreds of people were abroad on this pleasant evening, but Henry Bastaff thought their mood to be weary and even a trifle grim. He went to the ancient Apprise Inn, which claimed to be the oldest building of the floats: a long shed beamed with twisted old stalks, reportedly cut at the astounding depth of three hundred feet. Within was a long buffet constructed of laminated strips, golden-brown with wax and use. Shelves to the rear,displayed jars and tubes of arrack, beer, and spirits of life, together with various delicacies and sweetmeats.
At the front wide eaves thatched with garwort fronds shaded several dozen tables and benches where travelers rested and lovers kept rendezvous. Henry Bastaff seated himself where he could watch both the Apprise hoodwink tower and that of Quatrefoil to the east. The serving maid approached; he ordered beer and nut wafers. As he drank and ate, he listened to conversations at nearby tables and read the messages which flickered and down the line of floats.
The conversations were uninformative; the hoodwink messages were the usual compendium of announcements; messages, banter. Then suddenly in mid-message came a blaze, all eighteen lights together, to signal views of great importance. Henry Bastaff sat up straight on the bench.
“Important … information! … This … afternoon … several … of … the … intercessors … kidnapped … by … the … rebels … returned … to … the … Floats… They … are … Barquan Blasdel … of … Apprise … with … his … spouse … and … several … dependents … Vidal Reach … of … Sumber … Luke Robinet … of … Parnassus … They … have … a … harrowing… tale … to … tell … The … rebels … are … established … on … a … float … to … the … east … where … they … kill … kragen … with … merciless … glee … and … plan … a … war … of … extermination … upon … the … folk … of … the … Old … Floats … The … intercessors … escaped … and … after … an … unnerving … voyage … across … the … uncharted … ocean … late … today … landed … at … Green Lamp Float … Barquan Blasdel … has … called … for … an … immediate … convocation … to … consider … what … measures … to … take … against … the … rebels … who … daily … wax … in … arrogance.”
Chapter 14
Six days later Henry Bastaff reported to the council of New Home Float. “Our arrival was precarious, for our initial direction took us many miles to the south of the Old Floats. Next time we must keep to the north of the floats intervening, whereupon we should make an easy landfall. Apparently the Blasdel coracle experienced even worse difficulties, for they reached Green Lamp about the same time we landed on Apprise. Possibly they delayed on one of our floats until they felt we had given up pursuit. I sat at the Old Tavern when the news came, and I saw great excitement. The people seemed more curious than vindictive, even somewhat wistful. I heard no talk of King Kragen except one re-mark, somewhat ambiguous, to the effect that the rebels were perfectly welcome to attempt the slaughter of certain local kragen. A convocation was called for the following day. Since the folk of Almack Float would attend, I thought it best that Maible and Barway remain hidden. I stained my face swindler color, shaved away most of my eyebrows, pulled my hair forward, and wore a swindler‘s hood. I seemed the most inept of swindlers: half goon, half advertiser. At the convocation I looked eye to eye with my uncle Fodor the withe-peeler, who never turned a second glance.
The convocation was vehement and lengthy. Barquan Blasdel resumed his rank of Apprise Intercessor, without a moment’s hesitation or as much as a by-your-leave.
In my opinion Vrink Smathe, who had succeeded to the post, found no joy in Blasdel’s return. He sat three rows back, bereft of his gown and nosepiece, frowning and blinking every time Blasdel spoke, which was almost continually.
“With great earnestness Blasdel called for a punitive expedition. He spoke of those who had departed as ‘iconoclasts’, ‘monsters’, ‘vicious scum of the world’, which it was the duty of all decent folk to expunge.
“A certain number were stimulated, mostly those whom I would call the lowest element: folk of low prestige, unskilled, unknowledgeable and jealous of their betters. But these were few. In general he aroused only lukewarm attention. No one of importance showed heart for the project. The new intercessors in particular were less than enthusiastic. Clearly they covet their new posts, which they would lose if the old intercessors returned.
“Blasdel, seeing that he had aroused no vast sympathy for his wrongs, almost lost his temper, which is a rare thing to see in Barquan Blasdel. He accused those who were reluctant of cowardice and complacence, and so aroused antagonism. Everyone knows the temper of Emacho Feroxibus, Elder of the Quatrefoil Bezzlers. He is highly orthodox; still he is no poltroon. Very brusquely he instructed Blasdel to speak with a less pointed tongue: ‘No one questions your zeal, but let it be applied to constructive purposes! What avail is there in destroying these folk? They are gone; good riddance. We shall maintain our ancient ways with more dedication because the dissidents have departed! I, for one, do not care to hear any further rabble rousing!’
“I must say that Barquan Blasdel was not at all cowed. He said, ‘It is all very well to temporize, and no-one enjoys attempting an arduous and uncomfortable task such as the one I propose. Nevertheless these are unregenerates, creatures of the most depraved sort.’
“Feroxibus laughed in his face. ‘If they are this evil how did they allow you to live? Why did they not drown you?’
“Barquan Blasdel was taken aback. But he said, ‘It is clear enough. They feared discovery by King Kragen and planned that it the worst occurred, we would intercede in their behalf.’
“Emacho Feroxibus said no more, nor did Barquan Blasdel, and the convocation ended without any decisive acts.
“But this was only the convocation—the overt situation. I doubt if Barquan Blasdel was surprised by the lack
of response. His last act was to call a meeting of all intercessors at the cottage of Vrink Smathe that evening.
“I went back to the coracle and conferred with Barway and Maible. Barway is a deep-diver. With this attribute in mind, and recalling the typical arrangement of an intercessor’s workroom, we evolved a means to secure more information. Barway can tell you what occurred better than I.”
Barway now made his report. He was a year or two younger than Henry Bastaff, an expert oarsman and a deep-diver of great endurance. He was an Advertiser-man by caste, but had taken as a spouse the daughter of an Incendiary, and was generally held in high esteem. He spoke modestly, in a subdued manner.
“We made our plans while the sun was still high. I took a bearing on Smathe’s hut, put on my goggles, ducked under the float. I don’t know how many of you have swum under a float, but it’s a beautiful sight. The water is deep blue, overhead is the white subskin and down below go the stems until finally they disappear into the depths. “Smathe’s hut was about seventy-five yards from the edge. This is a distance I can swim easily. But there and back, no. I would run out of air and drown under the float, unless I could find a hole like the one we found in Blasdel’s hut. I trailed a rope so that I could be hauled back and revived it I failed to find the hut.
“But there was no problem. Seventy-five yards from the edge of the float I saw the dark hole above and then I rose and floated in the hole. The plug was off. I was able to breathe. No-one was in the workroom. In an outer chamber voices, which seemed to be those of Vrink Smathe and his spouse. They were jointly lamenting the return of Barquan Blasdel. In fact, Smathe’s spouse was upbraiding him for submitting so tamely to Barquan Blasdel’s resumption of his position, and speaking in language quite unbecoming a woman of the Bezzlers, as I believe her caste to be.
“I did not linger. I made my rope fast to the horn, so that after dark I could find my way back. Then I returned to the coracle.
“We waited until evening. Henry Bastaff went back to Apprise Inn and listened to the talk, but heard nothing of consequence. As soon as we observed intercessors entering Smathe’s hut, I took to the water, and guiding myself by the rope, returned to the hole in the Smathe’s workroom.”
At this the members of the council all gave a shudder, since the under-water by night was a region of superstitious dread, especially under the pad: the locale of children’s horror tales.
Barway continued. “I was early. The intercessors continued to come in as I waited. Vrink Smathe came to listen at the horn, and I was forced to submerge. I had taken little air and began to feel strain. Smathe turned the horn about, and I was forced to draw back when it pointed toward me. It stopped—and I realized that Smathe could hear my heartbeats. I swam to the other side of the hole and looked up through the water. Smathe was listening with his ear down and eyes turned away. I surfaced, took air, and went below once more.” Barway laughed. The councilors responded with wry smiles. Barway was understating the drama of the moment, as all knew.
“Smathe left the horn. I surfaced. I heard him say, ‘For a moment I heard a curious pounding sound: a ‘thump thump’. But it went away.’ Someone suggested that the sound was probably due to someone jumping on the float, and Smathe agreed to this. And then Blasdel came into the room.”
Barquan Blasdel looked around the circle of intercessors, all of whom wore ceremonial black gowns with float emblems. He spoke first to Vrink Smathe. “Guards are posted against eavesdroppers?”
“Four apprentices stand outside the hut, with lanterns. No one may approach.”
“Good, What we discuss now is of the utmost gravity and must not be disclosed, by deed or action.
“First of all, the intercessors now present must be ratified in their posts. Vidal Reach, Luke Robinet, and relinquish our posts as Intercessors for Sumber, Parnassus, and Apprise, and now become Central Authorities. I hereby accede to the urgent suggestions made by many of you and will become Supreme Presiding Intercessor for all the floats. Luke Robinet and Vidal Reach will become my Chief Manciples.
“Now, to our main business. In spite of the timidity and inertia of the population, we cannot allow the rebels to continue in a state of insubordination. The reasons for this are many. First, they dared to attack King Kragen and to attempt his death: a deed of horror. Secondly, they kidnapped fifteen intercessors, a most heinous act. Third, even now they kill kragen with ever greater facility and already are preparing an assault upon King Kragen. Fourthly, even if they chose to remain quietly on their new floats, they represent a challenge to King Kragen’s rule and thus to our authority. Fifthly, they have subjected me, Vidal Reach, Luke Robinet, and all the rest to the most repugnant indignities, thus by extension attacking the whole institution of intercessorship: which is to say ourselves. We must destroy them. Before I proceed, do I have your unanimous approval and endorsement of the viewpoints I have just presented?”
Endorsement was somewhat cautious but unanimous.
“These, then, are my proposals. We will organize a militia to be called ‘The Defenders’ or ‘King Kragen’s Admonitors,’ or ‘The People’s Protectors’ or something similar. The able-bodied men of the New Floats number less than a thousand. Probably not more than five hundred would be fit to fight. To secure absolute and overwhelming strength we must recruit a force of at least a thousand active, strong and zealous young men. We shall train them in the use of weapons and, more importantly, wash from their minds all compunction, pity, or qualms against violence, and likewise do so in ourselves. I realize we thus contradict our oldest and most cherished tradition, but it is a worthy cause.
“When the force is trained and equipped, we will embark in a suitable fleet of coracles, go forth and subdue the rebels. The most vicious and recalcitrant we must deal with definitely and finally; the rest shall be brought back in shame to the main floats and reduced to a new and low caste. Thus shall the lesson be driven home! Thus shall the power and benevolence of King Kragen be asserted! Thus shall we maintain and augment our own prestige!”
Barway reported the exhortations of Barquan Blasdel in as careful detail as he was able, in addition to discussion that followed. No one had offered serious opposition to Barquan Blasdel’s plan; there had only been a questioning as to ways and means.
“Did they announce a time schedule?” asked Phyral Berwick.
“I gather that they will begin immediately?”
“I would expect as much.” Phyral Berwick heaved a deep sigh. “Thus fear and pain and brutality come to the floats. It seems as if even in spite of heritage we are little better than the folk of the Outer Worlds.”
Sklar Hast said, “We must contrive countermeasures. First, there is no further point in keeping the intercessors captive. Better if now we give them a coracle and send them home. In this way they will learn nothing of our plans.”
“What are our plans?” Arrel Sincere asked bleakly.
Sklar Hast considered. “We have a number of alternatives. We could train a militia of our own and trust to our own skill and strength. Ultimately, after much bloodshed, I fear we would be defeated. We could pack our belongings and flee once again, to seek a new far set of floats. This is not an appealing idea. We can try to kill King Kragen—but they would still attack us. Or we can defeat our enemies by a strategy which so far I am unable to define … In the meantime we must continue a close observation of the Home Floats.”
Chapter 15
On the world which had no name there were no seasons, no variations of climate except those to be found by traversing the latitudes. Along the equatorial doldrums, where floats of sea-plant grew in chains and each day was like every other, and the passage of a year could be detected only by watching the night sky. Though the folk had small need for accurate temporal distinctions, each day was numbered and each year named after some significant event. A duration of twenty-two years was a “surge” and was also reckoned by number. Hence a given date might be known as the 349th day in the Year of Malvinon’s
Deep Dive during the Tenth Surge. Time reckoning was almost exclusively the province of the scriveners. To most of the folk life was as pellucid and effortless as the grassy blue sea at noon.
King Kragen’s attack upon Tranque Float occurred toward the year’s end, which thereupon became the Year of Tranque’s Abasement, and it was generally assumed hat the following year would be known as the Year of the Dissenters’ Going.
As the days passed and the year approached its midpoint, Barquan Blasdel, instead of allowing the memory of his kidnapping to grow dim, revived it daily within unflagging virulence. Each evening saw memorandum from Barquan Blasdel flicker up and down the line of floats: “Vigilance is necessary! The dissidents are led by men of evil energy! They flout the majesty of King Kragen; they despise the folk who maintain the traditions and most especially the intercessors. They must be punished and taught humility. Should they dare to attack us, which is not beyond the limits of their megalomaniac viciousness, they must be hurled into the sea. To this end—King Kragen’s Exemplary Corps!”
At a conclave of notables he made a speech of great earnestness, depicting the goals of the rebels in the most serious light, in which he was supported by those intercessors who had been liberated and who had made their way back to the Home Floats.
“Do we wish to see their detestable philosophy transplanted here?” demanded Barquan Blasdel. “A thousand times no! King Kragen’s Exemplary Corps will act as one man to destroy the invading rebels, or, if a policy of cauterization is decided upon, to wipe out the central node of sepsis!”
Emacho Feroxibus, Elder of the Quatrefoil Bezzlers, was not moved by Barquan Blasdel’s vehemence. “Let them be,” he growled. “I have had long association with some of these folk, who are persons of high caste and good character. They obviously do not plan to invade the Home Floats; such a thought is absurd, and so long as they do not molest us, why should we molest them? No-one should risk drowning for so dismal a cause.”
