by Jack Vance
Slaves of The Klau
Jack Vance
Slaves of The Klau by Jack Vance is a short but very intense novel. A lowly, though rebellious human servant to an advanced alien is seized and taken into the most desperate slavery under utterly ruthless masters. His initial attempts at escape turn into an ongoing journey of personal development as his mental strength and power grow to enable him to take command of increasingly complex and hazardous situations.
The story is completely believable and consistent, as the hero fights to overcome setback after setback. It is wonderfully woven between the different personalities of a number of alien races, a highly technological future, and intergalactic war. Very clever ideas, very visual, delightfully written. This is a timeless piece. It has been on my bookshelf for nearly thirty years and has been read many times.
Jack Vance
Slaves Of The Klau
© 1958
CHAPTER I
Markel, the Lekthwan, occupied a strange and beautiful dwelling on the highest crag of Mount Whitney, consisting of six domes, three minarets, and a wide terrace. The domes were formed of almost clear crystal, the minarets were white porcelain-stuff, the surrounding terrace was blue glass, and in turn was surrounded by a rococo balustrade with blue and white spiral stanchions.
To Earther minds, Markel was like his dwelling-beautiful, incomprehensible, disturbing. His skin shone lustrous gold; his features were fine, hard, exotic in their spacing. He wore soft black garments: tight breeches, sandals resting on two inches of air, a cloak which fell into dramatic shapes apparently of its own volition.
Markel welcomed no strangers, made no appointments, but contrived to conduct a large volume of business with small effort. He employed a dozen agents, conferring daily with each via Lekthwan three-dimensional television, which produced the illusion of face-to-face discussion. He occasionally flew abroad in his air-boat, occasionally received visitors from other Lekthwan domes.
His two Earther attendants, Claude Darran and Roy Barch, found him formal, courteous, painfully patient. Some of their duties were familiar enough, with parallels from their own experience: washing down the terrace, polishing the air-boat; others involved apparently irrational operations. When they made mistakes, Markel repeated his instructions, while Darran and Barch reacted each to his temperament-Darran ruefully apologetic, Barch listening with grim concentration.
Markel's psychological attitude was perhaps as much due to preoccupation as any innate conviction of superiority. On occasion he extended himself to be gracious. Noticing a mark on Barch's chin, he asked, "How did you do that?"
"Cut myself shaving," said Barch.
Markel's eyebrows flickered in surprise. He entered the dome, returning a few minutes later with a flask of clear liquid. "Wipe this over your face and you'll never need to shave again."
Barch looked dubiously at the bottle. "I've heard of stuff like this. It takes your face along with the beard."
Markel shook his head politely. "You need not worry in this case." He turned away, then paused. "A ship will be arriving today; my family will be aboard. We will receive them formally at eleven o'clock. Is that clear?"
"Very well," said Barch.
"You understand the landing operation?"
"Perfectly," said Barch.
Markel nodded, continued around the terrace, the space under his sandals giving him a springing, striding gait. Barch went to the quarters he shared with Darran, cautiously applied the depilatory to his face. When he felt his cheeks, the stubble had disappeared.
Darran came in. "There's going to be a shake-up. The old man's family is arriving today-a wife and two daughters. Now everybody toes the mark, Markel included."
Barch nodded. "I know. He asked me if I remembered how to fold down the balustrade. Also, he said 'formal'- that means monkey suits." He glanced sourly at his skintight green coveralls with the blue jacket. "I feel like a ballet dancer in that outfit." He handed Darran the bottle. "Here, make yourself beautiful. It's depilatory, removes your beard-a present from Markel. If we had ten gallons, we'd be millionaires."
Darran weighed the flask in his hand. "Some kind of hint? Maybe we're looking seedy."
"If it was deodorant, I might think so."
Darran looked at his wrist watch. "Ten-thirty; we'd better get into our uniforms."
When they arrived at the landing stage, Markel already stood by the balustrade. He inspected them briefly, then, pulling the peak-visored cap lower over his eyes, turned to look out over the panorama to the south.
Moments passed. Down from the sky floated a glistening ball, striped red, gold, blue and silver. It expanded swiftly, the stripes flashing and whirling. Barch and Darran bent over the balustrade, felt for the locks. The balustrade collapsed into the blue glass, and a blast of cold air blew across the terrace.
The space-ball loomed overhead like a mountain, the stripes boiling and melting like the colors of a soap bubble. It pressed close, locked to the terrace.
The hull broke open into an arched portal. Markel stood like a statue; Barch and Darran stared.
Five Lekthwans came forth: two women, two men, and a little girl who ran gaily across the terrace. Markel cried out a greeting, lifted the child high with one golden arm, with the other embraced the two women. There were a few moments of staccato Lekthwan conversation, then Markel set down the child, led the party into the near rotunda.
From the portal slid a dozen crates, cushioned on two inches of air, like Markel's sandals. Barch and Darran guided them one at a time to the service dome.
The portal closed, the colors in the hull boiled furiously. The space-ball drifted back from the landing stage, spun off into the east.
Darran and Barch, left alone on the terrace, watched it dwindle to a spot of color.
"Well, that's that," said Darran. "Now we've seen the big shot's family." He waited, but Barch made no comment. They lifted the balustrade back into place. "The older woman must be his wife," Darran went on reflectively, "and the two girls, his daughters."
"Cute little kid," said Barch.
Darran turned him a quizzical glance. "How about the other one?"
Barch bent over a crate. "Why argue? She's beautiful." He glanced briefly toward the rotunda. "But she's still something off another planet, strange as a fish."
Darran shrugged. "We're making a good thing out of those 'fish.' They pay through the nose for everything we sell them. They've advanced us hundreds of years. We're building spaceships with principles of science we never even dreamed of. We've cut the death rate with their medicine-"
"It's not our science, nor our medicine."
"It works, doesn't it?"
"It never grew on Earth; it's not good transplanting that alien stuff."
Darran regarded him curiously. "If you don't like the Lekthwans how come you're up here working for Markel?"
Barch turned him a speculative glance. "I could ask you the same question."
"I'm here because I might learn something."
Barch abruptly turned away. "Guys like you are too easygoing. You want to be nice."
"Sure. It's nice to be nice."
"Are the Lekthwans nice to you? Maybe they come down to visit your house, buy you a beer?" Barch snorted. "Not on your life. They're Lekthwans; we're the peasants."
"Give them time," said Darran. "They're a long way ahead, we're strangers to each other. They're decent enough-maybe a little stand-offish."
Barch's bright hazel eyes glittered like coals. "And in a few years-what then? We were doing pretty well as Earthers, making progress every year. Homegrown, native, natural progress. Do you know what's going to happen to us? In those few more years you talk about, we'll be through. We won't be any good as Lekthwan
s-they won't have us-and we'll be a hell of a lot worse as Earthers."
"You'll never win a prize for optimism," said Darran. He bent over a crate, gave it a shove toward the door. "Let's be realistic. The Lekthwans are here. We can't turn back the clock. Why should we want to? We've got a lot to gain."
"Only what they decide is good for us."
Darran shook his head. "Earthers at Lekthwan schools learn anything they want to."
"First you've got to know the language."
Darran laughed. "Do you expect them to run their schools in English?" Darran laughed cheerfully. "You're looking through the wrong end of the telescope. Maybe you ought to go to visit their planet. It might give you a different slant."
"If I go to Lekthwa, I'll go to learn something pretty basic, and that's how to ease these gold-plate snobs off of Earth."
Tkz Maerkl-Elaksd-Markel, as the Earthers called him- awaiting his wife Tcher, his daughters Komeitk Lelianr and Sia Spedz, stood looking through the wall of his south salon across the great California deserts. He wore no cloak; afternoon sunlight coppered the gold of his skin.
Behind him sounded the quick pad of feet; Sia Spedz came running out barefoot, wearing a diaphane diaper with white pompons at each hip. Her hair was finest platinum floss, burnished and waxed, parted in the middle, flared playfully over each ear. She stood on tiptoe by the wall looking out over the view. "Where are the other domes? Are we all alone?"
Markel stroked her head. "No, there are agencies all around Earth."
"And always on the mountain tops?"
"Yes, that's how we secure isolation and privacy." He turned as his wife and his second daughter appeared, wearing simple white kirtles. Tcher, the mother, dressed her hair sleek as a silver cap against her head. Komeitk Lelianr, the daughter, combed hers into a high tuft, like a silver flame.
Markel brought forth couches of half-living white foam. "And your voyage, was it pleasant?"
Komeitk Lelianr grimaced. Tcher said, "Everywhere but at Great Dark Cloud. A Klau web forced us to stop."
Markel stirred uneasily in his seat. "And then?"
"A boat clamped alongside, intending to send aboard a search party."
"But why? Why?"
"We were told that a dozen Lenape escaped from Magarak and the Klau would not have them win back to Lenau."
"No, that would be a great defeat for the Klau," Markel murmured. "And then?"
"The ship master behaved with enormous dignity. He commenced a sight and sound broadcast of the Klau anxiety, and in five minutes they withdrew."
Markel conveyed his understanding through the complex Lekthwan eyebrow, eye and eyelash mood-language, and by the same method indicated a change in subject. He turned to Sia Spedz: "Tell me, how goes your gain of life-experience?"
The girl wriggled her toes. "Everyone commends my ability. I have learned eleven characterizations and three optionals, which are: Smiling Sunrise, Playful Kitten and The Solitary One."
"Excellent."
Tcher said with whimsical pride, "She can walk twenty feet high on her sandals, and she went alone out around Mirska Moon in a day-boat."
"On Earth she must be more cautious," said Markel. "Lekthwans are not universally popular."
Sia Spedz asked in puzzlement, "Why is that? Do we not help them, do we not train them at our Lekthwan schools?"
Markel smiled quietly. "The Earthers have long considered themselves unique in the universe, and the coming of the Lekthwans has been a blow to their pride."
Sia Spedz continued doubtfully. "Also I know all the Lekthwan reigns, dynasties and realms, starting with King Phalder in the proto-history."
"Down on the plains of Earth, you will find natives in roughly the same stage of culture."
"That is more to the interest of Lelianr."
Markel turned to his other daughter. "Time fleets like a meteor streak; I cannot believe that you have finished your first curricula. And now?"
Komeitk Lelianr spoke in the Sedate Counsel characterization. "I think in several directions. Primitive anthropology concerns me, and also food research. Last month I designed a very pleasant sugar, of which several tons were produced and distributed."
Markel laughed. "If you would discover new and exotic flavors, taste some of the Earther food."
Komeitk Lelianr screwed her face into a wry grimace. "Animal tissues."
"They also consume much plant matter."
"Life devouring life, nevertheless."
"An intrinsic immorality which I believe goes unrecognized. However, the race can synthesize only the simplest carbohydrates."
"I suppose they must feed themselves somehow."
"The Earthers are not entirely savage; indeed, if you decide to pursue your interest in proto-culture you will come upon some surprising achievements."
Komeitk Lelianr shrugged. "There is still time before I need limit myself to rigid specialization."
Sia Spedz cried, "Look, two Earthers on the terrace!"
Markel changed his characterization. "They are my servants-both bright young men."
"They are not quite as I had pictured Earthers," Komeitk Lelianr remarked thoughtfully.
Tcher said, "The darker of the two seems more agreeable; the other has weight on his soul."
"As a matter of fact," said Markel, " Roy has little liking for the Lekthwans."
Tcher shook her head. "If the Klau had come to Earth in our place, then he would have grounds for resentment."
"He has grounds, of a rather personal nature. His father was a scientist, and Roy 's ambition was to follow in his father's footsteps. From earliest youth he trained himself in the accepted techniques. Then the Lekthwans came, and overnight the entire effort of his life became nothing. Much of what he had learned was inaccurate, and the remainder, in the light of Lekthwan knowledge, was either obsolete or rudimentary. Roy became very bitter."
Komeitk Lelianr studied Barch's back. "Understandably."
"Why does he not study on Lekthwa?" demanded Sia Spedz.
Markel considered Barch and Darran. "He may approach the idea. At the moment all he sees is long years of further study, where he must start learning with children the age of Spedz."
"The other," said Tcher, "indeed has a much kinder expression. What is his name?"
"That is Claude. He is more practical than Roy, and on the whole, less emotional. I plan to include him in the next group to Lekthwa."
"And Roy?"
"So far he has shown no inclination to leave Earth."
Markel's two guests entered the salon. He rose to his feet. "You have refreshed yourselves?"
"We have bathed and rested. The view from your dome is magnificent."
Markel nodded. "I consider Earth among (he more beautiful worlds. Have you noticed the valley to the southeast, the hundred soft colors?"
"Beautiful."
"Beautiful, and also deadly. Indeed, the Earthers call it ' Death Valley.'"
CHAPTER II
Barch and Darran cooked for themselves, with supplies delivered every Saturday by helicopter. By and large their duties were nominal, and after washing down the terrace, their mornings were free. During this time Darran studied the Lekthwan grammar texts and tape recordings that Markel had placed at his disposal, while Barch read or moodily sunned himself.
The arrival of Markel's family disturbed the routine. On the morning after her arrival, Sia Spedz made friends with Darran, asking him why he wore shoes, rather than air-sandals.
Darran's answer was completely honest. "In the first place, I own no air-sandals. In the second, I'd fall flat on my face if I tried them."
"But it's not hard," said Sia Spedz, speaking English with a precise accent, "so long as you stay close to the ground."
"I don't understand. Why should it be easier close to the ground?"
"The force comes out like a pyramid. Close to the ground the base is broad. The higher you walk, the narrower becomes the column you walk on, so much the harder to balance."
"Ah," said Darran. "Why don't you make more powerful sandals, so that even when you walk high there would be a wide pyramid under your feet?"
"I don't know. I think because then there would be no fun in learning."
"I thought you were a practical race," said Darran.
"Not entirely. The Klau are completely practical. Everything is planned for exact use, whether it makes people happy or not. There is no gaiety on the Klau worlds."
"So? Who are the Klau?"
"Enemies. Terrible men, with eyes like red stars." But Sia Spedz was more interested in showing off her skill with the sandals. "Watch." She climbed into the air as if she were mounting stairs, ran gaily back and forth over Darran's head. "Now I'm going higher."
"Be careful!" Darran walked back and forth below her with arms outstretched.
"This is as high as I like to go," said Sia Spedz. "Up here it's very shaky."
"You'd better come down. You make me nervous."
She rejoined him. "Why don't you ask Markel to give you a pair of sandals?"
Darran shrugged. "It's not polite to ask for gifts."
"If you don't make your wants known, they go unrecognized."
Darran laughed. "I thought you weren't a practical race."
"Perhaps we are after all. In any event I'll give you a pair of sandals myself."
"You'll get spanked for giving away your father's best shoes."
Sia Spedz giggled. "That's a funny thing to say."
Barch had been leaning on the balustrade. "I think he's funny too. He knows all kinds of games. Get him to teach you hopscotch."
"Hopscotch?" Sia Spedz looked at Darran. "What's that?"
"It's a game little Earth girls play."
"Do you know how to play?"
Darran scratched his cheek. " Roy plays a lot better than I do."
"No," said Barch," you won yesterday."
"You show me, Claude."
Barch sat down on a bench. "I'll see that there's no cheating." He reached under him, pulled out Darran's Lekthwan Primer. He flipped it open, and glanced at the introduction.
