Way of the Pilgrim

by Matt

  So it was that Shane and Maria came into Milan five hours later. He had encountered no objections to dressing her, like himself, in pilgrim garb. But so swiftly had orders moved them from their two rooms to a courier ship, which by that time was waiting for them on the rooftop of the House of Weapons, and from there directly to the airport in Milan, that it was not until they were away from the airport terminal that he had a chance to consider how he might phone Peter in London for directions on how to reach the Milanese Resistance people.

  "But you don't need to do that," Maria had said, when he finally mentioned his oversight to her. They were sitting in a taxicab on their way into the city. "I can find them."

  He felt extremely conscious of his own stupidity. Maria's ability to find her former associates had been right under his nose all this time and its very obviousness had made it invisible to him.

  "But they may have moved since you were here."

  "I can still find them," said Maria. "This is my city."

  And of course it was. After they had settled in a hotel room, Maria slipped out still dressed as a pilgrim and returned in half an hour.

  "I spoke to Georges himself," she said. "He still doesn't like you any better than he ever did, but he'll cooperate. You didn't tell me when we could meet him, so I said I'd have to phone that word in to him when I got it."

  "I won't know until I've reported to Laa Ehon," said Shane, "which ought to be immediately, if it wasn't the middle of the night. Luckily, as it is, we can wait until morning. You'll have to come with me when I report."

  'To meet him?" Maria seemed to shrink inside herself; and Shane knew she was remembering how Shane told her Laa Ehon had watched her without her knowing it, through the vision screen. She had never forgotten the hours of being a prisoner at the Aalaag Headquarters here in Milan, and facing almost certain questioning and execution.

  "Possibly not Laa Ehon himself. He may prefer to see me alone," said Shane. "But you'll certainly be meeting the junior Aalaag officers. It's a chance for you to practice talking to them," he added, remembering what had occurred to him when he had been hoping that Lyt Ahn would let them go to London first. "Laa Ehon may have orders for me, though this time I don't think he'll consider me detailed to him by Lyt Ahn. After seeing Laa Ehon, I'll know when we can see Marrotta. But meanwhile I've got to get Peter here to Milan as quickly as possible."

  "I don't suppose I should ask you why?" she said.

  "No." He sighed. "There're all sorts of things I could tell you that would make it easier for both of us, but we shouldn't risk it. Can you find me a phone outside the hotel this time of night?"

  She took him out into the streets and to a bakery, which was brightly lit in its back sections and where people were busily at work preparing foods that would be hungrily consumed under the sun that was yet to rise. Maria evidently knew one of the men in authority there, and after a quick, private talk between the two of them, Shane was shown to a phone in a tiny office.

  "We'll have to pay them for the call, of course," said Maria.

  "We'll pay it three times over," said Shane. "But they'll have to take gold. I didn't have a chance to trade for any local currency at the hotel. Did you?"

  "Yes," she said, "of course. I've got it with me.

  "But there's no hurry," she added. "He's one of our people —the man I talked to."

  "Good."

  Shane began in Italian the business of working through the long distance operator. After more than a little delay, he heard a ring. It was some time before the phone was answered.

  "Smith and Smith, Exporters," said a surly male voice. "We're closed."

  "I want to speak to Mr. Smith—the old Mr. Smith," said Shane swiftly.

  There was a long pause at the other end, so long that Shane began to wonder if whoever had taken the call had not been briefed on the code he and Peter had originally worked out together.

  "It better be important, this time of night," said the voice. "It's vital," said Shane. "If it wasn't, do you think I'd be calling at this time of night at all?" He was beginning to get angry.

  "I'll have to go wake him up. He'll call back. Where are you?"

  "I'll have someone give you the phone number," said Shane. He passed the phone to Maria. "They've got to call back. Tell them this number."

  Maria spoke in English into the phone. Something brief was replied at the far end, and then Maria hung up.

  "It'll be half an hour, at the soonest, he said," she told Shane.

  It was, as it turned out, nearly two hours before the phone rang and brought Peter's voice to Shane's ear.

  "When did you get to Milan?" Peter said, still thick with the sleep from which he had clearly been roused. "Is Maria with you?"

  "A few hours ago. Yes, she is," said Shane.

  "Well, it'll be all right. Marrotta'll cooperate. Do you need to know how to find him?"

  "No. Maria's seen him. She brought back word he'd work with me. That's not my present problem. I'd hoped to get to London to see you before I came here. We've got to talk. I need you to come to Milan immediately, and then go on with me to Rome before going home again to England. How soon can you get off; and who's the Resistance leader I'd work with in Rome? Have you got money to fly? I can give you all the funds you need once you get here."

  "Bloody hell!" said Peter. "You don't want much, do you? Just wake up in the middle of the night and fly immediately to Milan and Rome! What'll I use as an excuse for the trip if anyone asks?"

  "You can think of something. Who's the Roman leader of Resistance?"

  "Well, I suppose I can do it, if there's room on an early plane. I'll have to get word to you of when I'll be coming in. How do I do that?"

  "Phone our hotel and leave a message for me, making an appointment for lunch, dinner, or drinks—whatever fits the time of day. Tell them you're Mr. Smith. Here, let me give you Maria to tell you the name of the hotel and the name of an eating or drinking place where we can meet—"

  Shane passed the phone over to Maria, who gave Peter the information. She handed the phone back to him.

  "That all?" asked Peter.

  "You didn't tell me if you've got the funds for an air ticket and you still haven't told me the name of the Roman leader."

  "Yes, I can buy a ticket. I don't know the leader in Rome personally. Maria can find out for you there. I'll tell you more about the situation when I see you. Now, goodnight."

  "Wait," said Shane. "You'll definitely be on the first plane out in the morning you can get on?"

  "Yes, yes—and yes again!" said Peter. "Goodnight!"

  He hung up.

  17

  It turned out that Laa Ehon did indeed want to see both Shane and his assistant, in spite of the fact that Shane had explained to the Aalaag who was Officer of the Day that his assistant could neither speak nor understand the alien language to any useful degree. They were admitted to the Milanese Commander's presence by another junior officer whom Laa Ehon sent almost immediately out of the office, leaving himself alone with the two humans.

  "This other beast with you," said Laa Ehon to Shane without preamble, "you say it does not understand the true tongue at all?"

  "It understands a few sounds only, immaculate sir," said Shane. "Also, it can say a few sounds, but not well."

  "Have it say something in the true tongue for me."

  "Maria," said Shane in Italian. "The immaculate sir would like you to say something in his own language to him. I suggest you tell him you are at his orders."

  "This beast at 'maculate sir's orders, 'maculate sir," said Maria to the powerful shape behind the desk. Her voice was thinned by fear, but Shane felt sure that no Aalaag could pick out such a fine distinction in human tones—even if the Aalaag in question happened to be listening for some such evidence of emotion.

  "You're right," Laa Ehon said to Shane. "It is barely understandable. And it comprehends no better?"

  "It does not, immaculate sir," said Shane.

 
"I see. In any case it makes no difference. It is you, Shane-beast, that I have ordered in to be talked to. I am informed Lyt Ahn wishes you to observe the formation here of a Unit similar to the one I had set up in London."

  "That was the command I received, immaculate sir."

  "I am pleased it is you whom he sent," said Laa Ehon. "As I may have mentioned before to you, Shane-beast, I have been interested by your command of the true tongue as well as your other qualities. The Governor Unit will be put together here in the next few days and, as before, I'll be interested in hearing your report on it before you leave. When were you ordered to leave?"

  "This beast was given no specific orders as to its departure date," said Shane.

  "You will be returning to the House of Weapons when you go?"

  "This beast may, or it may be ordered on to some farther place before returning to its base Headquarters."

  "Very interesting," said Laa Ehon. His large-boned white face with its black eyes and snowy eyebrows showed no more expression than any Aalaag ordinarily did. "One of the cattle who is as bright as you are, Shane-beast, should be aware that among the duties of a senior officer like myself is the readiness to assume any necessary command post, particularly one that requires him or her for the good of the Expedition. Also, seeing Lyt Ahn in his post of command, you have no doubt become aware that often he does things that are generally not done, or not permitted to lower ranks. It follows that as one of the officers who might, if conditions should suddenly require it, be called upon to take up the duties of him who is presently senior to us all, I also must occasionally—though rarely—do things not ordinarily done."

  He paused.

  "Do you understand me, Shane-beast?"

  "This beast understands the words, but not the intentions of the immaculate sir in saying them to me." Shane had never encountered quite this sort of conversation with an Aalaag, even with Lyt Ahn; and uneasiness moved in him.

  "The import would naturally not be understandable to a beast in any case. It is not necessary that you understand anything but the words I say to you and reply or obey as ordered. Do you understand that?"

  "This beast understands, immaculate sir." Relief flowed in to replace the uneasy feeling. Unless there was something very strange in the offing, Laa Ehon had effectively notified him that all responsibility for the conversation about to ensue was that of the Milanese Commander; and Shane need not worry about being in any way responsible himself.

  "Better." Laa Ehon's eyes looked directly into his. "Tell me then, is Lyt Ahn a good master?"

  The shock was so great that Shane had no words with which to answer. He was literally dumbfounded. He strove to think of something to say, but the agility of mind that had pulled him out of potential hot water innumerable times before seemed dead within him.

  "You have not answered me," said Laa Ehon. The tone of his voice was no different but nothing could have been more loaded with threat than the question itself.

  "This beast," managed Shane finally, "has known only one master, and cannot conceive of any way in which that master could be better."

  His words seemed to echo in his own ear as Laa Ehon continued to stare back at him in a silence that lengthened and lengthened.

  "It is true," said Laa Ehon at last. "You have known only one master. You and your fellow beast may go."

  Shane touched Maria's arm to alert her in case she had not understood the final sentence. According to the proper ritual they withdrew from Laa Ehon and left the Milanese Commander's office.

  "These two beasts have been ordered by the immaculate sir to go," Shane reported to the Officer of the Day in the outer office.

  "Go, then," said that alien.

  Shane and Maria left the room. Shane's mind was still in such a whirl after what had happened that he said nothing, but led Maria out of the Headquarters building and back to their hotel. Maria, clearly reading the emotional upset in him, did not speak until they were in their hotel room.

  "Did something go wrong?" she burst out there, in Italian. "Was it what I said? I said something wrong, didn't I? Tell me—"

  "No, no..." The expression on her face finally registered on him—and there was the ache again, the ache to put his arms around her and shut out her fears. "You did exactly what he expected after what I'd told him about you. It wasn't you at all."

  "Then what?"

  Shane opened his mouth to answer and found himself at a loss to explain. The answer that had come to his mind was impossible—but there was no other explanation; and it was an answer that could mean ruin to everything he planned. For a moment he wondered if he had not become in some way infected by Lyt Ahn, from being close to him this long; because something in him was boggling at saying what he was about to say as an Aalaag might boggle at saying it.

  "Maria," he said. "Maria—he's insane."

  "Insane?"

  She stared at him.

  "Who's insane? You mean him—Laa Ehon? How can he be? How can you tell? You're not making sense!"

  "In Aalaag terms, he's insane. Did you hear what he asked me?"

  "Hear? Of course I heard everything, but you know as well as I do I didn't understand any of it. Shane, what're you talking about? What do you mean by 'in Aalaag terms, he's insane'?"

  Shane found a chair and sat down in it. Maria dropped into one facing him. He was still searching for words to make the explanation in human terms, as much for his own benefit as for hers.

  "I don't know how to explain it to you." He looked at her, frustrated. "You need to know the Aalaag the way I've come to know them. Laa Ehon did something so inexcusable, it's unthinkable; something no Aalaag would do unless he was insane."

  "You still aren't making sense!" she said more gently. "Just tell me what it was that upset you this way. What's so bad you even have trouble saying it to me? What did he ask you?"

  Shane blew out a heavy, defeated breath.

  "It won't mean anything to you unless you know the Aalaag. He asked me if Lyt Ahn was a good master."

  Maria frowned.

  "Yes?" she said, when he did not go on speaking. "And what did that mean? What about that makes you say he's insane?"

  "Insane by Aalaag standards—and that may not mean the same thing as it would if you called a human being insane," said Shane. "That's what's terrible about this. Suddenly he's a question mark to me. Maybe none of the rules hold for him, if this doesn't..."

  He saw she was staring at him, patiendy, stubbornly still waiting for a decent explanation. He made a great effort.

  "I know all this sounds like a lot of gibberish to you," he said. "That's because of the differences between humans and Aalaag. I'm sorry. Let me try to sort my mind out, and come up with something that makes more sense. The trouble is, just as with any language but more so here, there're meanings among Aalaag that simply don't exist for humans. They don't exist in our languages because they don't exist in the human picture of things."

  He paused, thinking.

  "I told you, didn't I," he said finally, "that unlike humans, where the individual thinks of himself first and the race second, the Aalaag, through genetics or custom—God knows which, or both—always thinks of his race first, and himself or herself second?"

  "You said something about that. I can't remember just what or when."

  "All right, then," he said. "Put it this way, men. With the Aalaag, just like us, let's say sanity can be described as following certain self-evident rules for living and doing. Step outside those rules, start doing what doesn't fit them, and you look to people of your own kind as if you're acting against nature. For example, for a human to try to kill himself because his life was unendurable makes some kind of sense, according to human rules. You can be sane, maybe, and still be a suicide if you had that sort of reason. But try to kill yourself for... say ... a joke, and your fellow humans are pretty sure to call you insane. Do you follow me?"

  "Yes," she said. "Actually ... no, I was going to argue the point. But for now,
let's say it's so."

  "Well, then, don't you think it's at least likely that if you knew for certain some human you knew had tried to kill himself for a joke—for a joke only—you'd assume he hadn't been quite sane?"

  "All right, I would," she said. "Go on."

  He hesitated again.

  "You know," he said slowly, "the more I think of it, the more I think you'd have to have gone through all I've seen and heard among the Aalaag to understand what I'm talking about. You're either just going to have to take my word for it, or not."

  "Tell me what you can," she said, "and if I can believe it, I will."

  He nodded.

  "You see," he said, "there's several things wrong here. Not just one. For an Aalaag to ask the opinion of one of his own beasts about other beasts—what's a beast's opinion worth in an Aalaag's eyes, anyway?—makes no sense, but it's just barely conceivable. But for one to ask any kind of opinion from someone else's beast makes no sense at all. How could he trust a beast he didn't know and didn't control, to tell him the truth? It gets beyond imagining that he'd ask the opinion of a strange beast about another Aalaag—let alone about the owner of that strange beast. Finally, it gets completely unimaginable when it comes to him asking such an unthinkable question of a beast about another Aalaag who was superior to him in rank, as Lyt Ahn is superior to Laa Ehon. Aside from anything else it's an unbelievable insult to Lyt Ahn."