"Won't we be able to buy anything there?" she demanded.
Smith glibly explained. Foreign products might take some getting used to, and in the meantime - and again Malina glibly rationalized. Smith paid for everything, and he rented a suite of rooms just to use for sorting and packing. He even brought in professionals to help Malina cross-organize her purchases so that there were a number of self-contained units and she would not find that the entire supply of some item had been stowed at the bottom of a cargo hold.
Finally they were ready. Their luggage and the shipping containers were hauled away by truck. They made their own departure at 2:00 A.M. in a taxi, carrying only light hand luggage. Malina felt deeply apprehensive about the hour. She wondered if it had been deliberately chosen to avoid witnesses - she could envision a newspaper story that ended, "They were last seen getting out of a taxi at the intersection of - "
But it was too late to turn back, and she could not abandon her dream of financial independence. The taxi snorted away, and Malina led her sleepy children up the walk to the door Smith held open for them. It was a stately old house in an eminently respectable neighborhood, but they saw very little of either. Smith led them down the stairs to the basement and through an oddly designed transmitter frame that looked nothing like those used in the public transmitter terminals.
And then, in a spaceship parked in orbit somewhere beyond Pluto, they learned the truth.
They traveled, and even with the miracle of enormous, transmitting leaps through space, space was so vast that the journey seemed interminable. Smith, who now preferred to be called Rok Wllon, did his best to keep them occupied. They had a language to learn, something called small-talk, which was alleged to be the galactic civilization's version of Basic English. It was formidably complicated with pronunciation peculiarities, and its alphabet, Malina thought, would have made Egyptian hieroglyphics seem a model of simplicity and logic.
To Malina's embarrassment, Brian and Maia took to it delightedly.
It was a game, and they quickly became able to mug elaborate conversations with Rok Wllon, who was astonished at this precocity in immature humans. Malina's natural pride in her children was tempered by her mortification at finding herself the group's slow learner.
Small-talk proved to be a kind of linguistic shorthand for large-talk, a vast panorama of linguistic horrors. They labored on; presumably the spaceship traveled, but in an enclosed, windowless, completely self-contained five-room compartment, they were unaware of that. The only proof that they were in space came from their compartment's low gravity. The children were able to make soaring leaps about their playroom, and once Brian collided with the ceiling and gave himself a worrisome concussion.
At an early stage of their journey, their compartment, and the freight compartments containing their belongings, were transferred from Rok Wllon's private ship to a public space liner. They remained in their compartment during the exchange, experiencing only a bit of tilting and a jolt or two, while Rok Wllon engaged in a project that intermittently occupied him throughout their voyage: explaining space travel to Brian. The spaceship of course was a hollow hulk except for operation and service sections. The essential paraphernalia of old-fashioned ships and airliners on Earth - doors, corridors, stairs, elevators - weren't needed, so passenger and freight compartments could be intermixed and taken aboard as they were engaged to be hooked up to power and ventilation connections. The tons of freight that might be stacked above their compartment didn't matter in space, and however deeply their compartment was buried, they were only a step from the passenger lounge - or, when in port, the transfer station - by transmitter. That much was clear enough.
But Brian's questions focused on a blunt "What makes it go?" variously expressed, and Rok Wllon's attempts to answer this became increasingly amusing because obviously he did not know, any more than the average traveler on Earth could have explained matter transmission or a jet engine.
Brian understood transmitters. At least, he accepted them. The Universal Transmitting Company had opened for business in the year of his birth. It now had terminals in every city and town on Earth, and local trans networks laced every populated area. And their spaceship, Rok Wllon assured Brian, operated on a modification of the same transmitting principle utilized in Earth's transmitters.
"But what makes it go?" Brian persisted.
"When we went to Nashville," Rok WIlon said, "you walked into a transmitter frame in Colliston and came out of a receiving frame in Nashville. Now supposing, instead of you moving through the frame in Colliston, you stepped into it and sat down, and the frame transmitted itself. Then the transmitter frame that was in Colliston would be in Nashville, and you'd step out of it there."
"That's just like walking through it, except I'd waste time sitting down," Brian said.
"But space is so large," Rok WIlon said desperately, "that you can't travel from world to world in one transmission. The transmission begins to diffuse."
"You mean space won't warp that much?" Brian asked. Malina wondered what he had been reading.
"Something like that," Rok Wllon agreed stiffly. "So the only way we can transmit through space is through transmitting leaps, and since it wouldn't be possible to have receiving stations placed in space at the end of every leap, the transmitter, which is the spaceship, has to transmit itself without a receiver. Understand?"
Brian seemed to ponder this; actually, he was thinking of another way to ask, "What makes it go?"
Every ship carrying passengers had a passenger lounge, instantly accessible by transmitter, but Rok WIlon did not think they were ready for the experience of mingling with their fellow galactic citizens. He kept them at their studies. Much later, when he felt that they had their languages under control and had learned how to behave in public places, he permitted them to tour the transfer stations at worlds where the ship called.
These artificial satellites featured something like a restaurant, where travelers could eat while having a fantastic view of the wheeling, star-studded sky through a transparent dome. Malina and the children ordered food by pressing buttons - having learned in advance which buttons would bring them food most closely approximating their own - and their dinners arrived by way of transmitters built into the table. When Malina had her first taste of the galactic civilization's cuisine, she felt profoundly grateful for Rok Wllon's thoughtfulness in insisting that they bring an enormous stock of canned goods with them.
The three of them dawdled over the rubbery concoctions, pretending to eat while they admired the revolving sky and tried not to gawk at their fellow diners. Each passing monster challenged the evidence of Malina's senses and set the children to giggling.
"Hush!" Malina said. "You look just as funny to them." "Do we smell as bad?" Maia whispered.
"Probably. Stop holding your nose. See - none of them are doing that."
"Most of them don't have noses," Maia complained.
One life form was an expanding and contracting puddle of tissue with an astonishingly loud voice. Another was approximately human in appearance except for double pairs of arms and legs and a wholly unconscionable number of facial features. There was an enormous starfish topped with an oversized head that made it look like an octopus, and when it was ready to leave each arm sprouted a multiplicity of tiny legs, and it scurried away.
During an unexpected lull in the seething babble of incomprehensible conversations, a large, featureless ball of wrinkled, hairless flesh suddenly began to sing. The composition was complex and utterly unearthly, but it seemed pleasantly musical for all that, and when finally the song concluded, Malina felt like applauding. Later she described it enthusiastically to Rok WIlon, and he informed her that she'd been listening to the creature's digestive processes.
When they had become somewhat acclimated to the strange sights and sounds and smells of the transfer stations, Rok Wllon took them down for a brief visit to the world of Ffladon. A precipitous mountain range
made the land mass a vast desert crisscrossed with oases along vast river systems. They behaved like the bewildered tourists they were, staring at the multi-legged inhabitants - who very politely ignored them - and sightseeing from a taxi, which was an uncomfortable cart pulled by a spidery-legged, tailless crocodile that paused frequently to steal mouthfuls of leaves from a plant that looked like vulcanized spinach.
At Ffladon they changed ships again, this time from the public space liner to a private ship, because there was no intergalactic space service. The last leg of their journey was long and uninterrupted, for there were no transfer station stops in the Greater Galaxy, but they came finally to the depressingly barren world of Montura.
At the Montura Mart landing field they were greeted by a bulky, multi-limbed apparition whom Rok Wllon introduced as E-Wusk. E-Wusk regarded Malina with intense curiosity and exclaimed, "Gula - Darr?" when Rok Wllon introduced her. Then he concentrated his attention on Brian and Maia, making faces at them - an impressive performance because he had so much face to work with - and lashing his telescoping limbs in antics that instantly convulsed them.
They went at once to the Prime Common, the Galaxy Prime headquarters in one of the fifty pairs of towers that rose around the edge of the mart. Many creatures of E-Wusk's species were at work in the cubicles that filled the room.
"For the present I'll put you in Gula Schlu's apartment," E-Wusk said. "She has several vacant rooms."
They selected a room for themselves, a simple task because all of the bare, windowless rooms looked alike. After a look at the mart building from the curving lounge windows, Malina obtained the use of some ingeniously stacked boxes to store their belongings in and left the children to unpack the hand luggage. She went to join the others. Now that she finally had arrived, she was eager to get to work.
E-Wusk had arranged himself in a corner of one of the larger cubicles. Rok Wllon was perched on the edge of a hassock, evidently perturbed about something. "What is Gula Schlu's business?" he was demanding.
E-Wusk twined and untwined limbs, square himself away, paused to ruminate for a moment. Malina quietly seated herself on the opposite side of the cubicle and watched with fascinated amusement. Obviously whatever the mysterious Gula Schlu was involved in would be a long and complicated story.
"I cautioned her against it," E-Wusk said finally. "She claims she is following Supreme's orders and also that it will strengthen our position here. I'm already the largest trader at the mart by volume, but she claims - "
"What is her business?" Rok WIlon interrupted.
E-Wusk again squared himself away and paused to ruminate.
Malina had the embarrassed sensation of having inadvertently walked in on a family quarrel.
"The mart has a central column that supports the arena's dome," E-Wusk said. "There are tiny rooms inside, one atop the other. Gula Schlu - "
"What is her business?" Rok Wllon demanded. "That's what I'm telling you!" E-Wusk protested.
Rok Wllon bounced impatiently on his hassock. Malina had a side view of him, which disconcerted her. Her training in anatomy led her to believe that such a thin body couldn't possibly contain the necessary vital organs.
"Gula Schlu suggested that I take over this column as a place to display my samples," E-Wusk said. "She said the location was the best in the arena, which is true, but I rejected her advice for a number of excellent reasons. For one, the rooms were too small. If samples were displayed, there'd be no room for the customers. For another, it would have involved disregarding the established mart organization, and the other traders - "
"You rejected her suggestion for a number of excellent reasons," Rok Wllon said dryly.
"True enough. But if you already know about it, why are you asking me?"
"I don't know about it!" Rok WIlon shouted. He subsided resignedly, leaned back on his hassock, and said, "Please continue."
"Gula Schlu, entirely against my advice, petitioned the gesardl that's the governing body - and obtained permission and opened her own business in that central column." E-Wusk waved a cluster of limbs wearily. “I implored that she should not. I gravely feared - and fear - that she will disgrace herself and destroy our mission. She said it couldn't possibly disgrace her, it could only make her notorious.”
He waved his limbs again, this time mournfully. "She said she'd achieve status quickly and get acquainted with a lot of important people, and her notoriety wouldn't matter as long as she was successful. I must admit that she is tremendously successful, though I don't understand what she is doing. She certainly has become notorious. She's the best-known person at the mart, and she knows everyone of importance. It remains to be seen whether she will disgrace herself”.
Rok Wllon exploded again. "What is her business?"
Brian and Maia had joined them. They tiptoed in with exaggerated care and took places beside Malina on her hassock, and they watched the progress of the discussion with open mouths, staring first at E-Wusk and then at Rok WIlon.
"I told you I don't understand her business," E-Wusk said. "It makes no sense at all to me. Montura Mart is a strange, primitive place, with outlandish goods, and abominable tastes, and infantile business practices. The traders here have never heard of the regularized solvency that makes civilization possible. As far as I'm concerned, the tested methods are best, but what we have to contend with here at the mart - "
Rok Wllon seemed about to explode again. E-Wusk broke off and said hastily, "I don't know anything about Gula Schlu's business. Here she comes now. Why don't you ask her about it?"
The most remarkable creature Malina had seen since she left Earth had just stepped from the transmitter. It was a woman, small, gray-haired, looking spry and briskly alert in spite of being elderly. She had a lovely smile on her face, and in a crinkly dress she would have looked like a generalization of everyone's favorite maiden aunt. She was wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt.
And she was human. Malina looked, disbelieved, and then looked again.
She sprang to her feet. The children climbed onto the hassock and added their stares to hers. After the long, weary, bewildering succession of monsters, each more unlikely than the one that preceded it, suddenly here was a fellow human being.
At the same moment the woman saw them. She exclaimed, in English, "Good God!" Then she turned on Rok Wllon. "Smith, this time you've blown a gasket for sure. Is this your precious specialist?"
Before he could answer, she hurried over to Malina. “Excuse me. I'm Effie Schlupe. Miss Effie Schlupe. In high galactic society they call me Gula Schlu. I should have waited on Earth to see what Smith was up to. Every time he acts on his own initiative, he puts his foot into it."
Rok Wllon spoke stuffily in large-talk. "The project was ordered by Supreme. I proposed Doctor Darr as the required specialist, and Supreme concurred. I hardly thought it necessary to consult you, or Gul Darr either."
"Lord save us!" Miss Schlupe gasped. "Gul Darr - Doctor Darr is that why you chose her? Because her name is the same as that pseudonym Mr. Darzek uses? Smith, you blew all your gaskets on that one, and so did Supreme!"
"It seemed to me," Rok Wllon said defensively, still speaking large-talk, "that the job required certain qualities that you Earthlings are lavishly endowed with - qualities, I remind you, that disqualify you for membership in the Synthesis, though I concede their usefulness in uncivilized crises. Since you and Gul Darr utilize those qualities so effectively, I suggested to Supreme that perhaps a relative, especially one with the proper specialist qualifications - "
"You idiot! Darr isn't Mr. Darzek's name on Earth, and she couldn't possibly be a relative!" Miss Schlupe turned to Malina. "Are these your kids? Why'd you bring them?"
Malina said uncertainly, "Mr. Smith - Rok Wllon - assured me they'd be safer here than at home." She asked anxiously, "Won't they?" ....
"They will as far as I know. But I don't know how far I know, and neither does Smith. He's never been here be
fore. Smith - "
"The name," Rok Wllon said stuffily, "is Rok Wllon."
"Your name is anything I want to call you, and right now it's mud. Didn't you get my message? Your specialist isn't needed. There aren't any natives on Montura. I passed the word to Supreme and asked Supreme to forward it to you."
Rok Wllon said angrily, "Supreme specifically recommended a skin specialist. My choice was Doctor Darr, and Supreme approved it, and Doctor Darr accepted. Do you presume to question Supreme's instructions when Gul Darr himself has said all the intelligent life in the universe is threatened? This is a crisis beyond our comprehension!"
"It's certainly beyond yours," Miss Schlupe said. "Sit down and be quiet." She plunked herself onto a vacant hassock and asked Malina, "You're a medical doctor?"
[Jan Darzek 03] - This Darkening Universe Page 10
