by Ric Locke
“The ferassi consider the usage valid.” Khurs shrugged and smiled faintly. “For that matter, so do I… they have spoken of little else these past two llor.”
“I don’t—didn’t have as much contact with the ferassi on a day to day basis as Khurs… did,” said Dhzeenis, “but even I have heard the talk. The ferassi consider your actions remarkable, deserving of the highest respect.” He grinned wryly. “Like Khurs, I do as well. Probably it is the influence of too much romantic literature.”
“Romantic literature?”
“Oh, yes,” said Khurs. “In days long gone, before Belsar Flen established control over the Jewel and took the ferassi into space, the establishment of a new pa’ol was an affair of force and grandeur. Literature is filled with such exploits: a lone adventurer, or the leader of a small band of desperadoes, penetrates the defenses of an established clan, carrying away treasure and the beginnings of a tuwe which serve as the basis of his future fortune.” She produced a wry smile of her own. “As Dzheenis says, we may have been unduly influenced by the tales as well. Certainly I always found them exciting; the better writers can make the scenes in the tuwe particularly poignant.”
“I enjoy the tales of deceit and subterfuge,” Dzheenis put in, “but Khurs is correct about the scenes in the tuwe, although ‘poignant’ is not precisely the word I would choose to characterize them.” She poked out her tongue at him, eyes twinkling, and waggled the tips.
“I still don’t see how that applies to me,” Peters observed.
“Do you not? Consider the recent past from the ferassi point of view.” Khurs held up a finger. “First, when minions were sent to abduct you you dispatched them handily, with the aid of a single henchman. Next, you were abducted while unconscious and placed in close confinement; you escaped the confinement and defeated your captors. Then you spun such a tale as hypnotized them, seduced the keepers of the tuwe, and made away with a valuable spacecraft and such females as you chose. It is the stuff of legends. They all feel they have fallen into the pages of a story-book, never mind that they themselves are the hapless villains in this particular tale. Fredik Fers in particular is positively swaggering.”
“Hm,” said Peters. “I suppose I see how that might be the case… certain elements seem to be lacking, such as the sword-swinging escape, leaving spear-carriers scattered like so much chaff.”
Dzheenis smiled and fingered his jaw. “Here we enter the realm of more modern traditions,” he commented. “Some considerable time ago, but not in antiquity, there arose a thinker called Chazis Mar. He opined that the ferassi would find greater prosperity in trade and equable relations than in raid and rapine, and such were his powers of persuasion that the ferassi accepted his doctrines and put them into effect.”
“Except for the dar ptith”, Khurs interjected. “The epa’ol of the dar rejected those teachings, and maintain the customs and practices of earlier eras.”
“Yes… Chazis Mar also decreed that girls should be taught to speak, read, and write, and that the best should be preserved past their first maturity; this policy was adopted as well.”
“Yes.” Peters leaned back again in the deep cushions. “It’s still not clear how this is applicable to my case.”
“No?” Dzheenis grinned. “I will be specific, then. In addition to having performed a feat of deceit, daring, and general derring-do of a magnitude not seen outside the covers of a book for squares of uzul, you have managed to do so entirely within the precepts of Chazis Mar!”
“Consider,” Khurs interjected, and began ticking off points again. “You refrained from taking the life of Fredik Fers, even though you had extreme provocation. The story that mesmerized the ferassi contained nothing but limpid truth; you even admitted your relatively low status instead of indulging in vainglory. You selected adult girls instead of dipping into the tuwe, and seduced them with nothing more than your own attributes and force of personality. During your escape you were presented once again with the opportunity of taking life; once again you demurred, giving Chester Zin nothing worse than a sore head and a hearty shove to safety—”
Peters held up a hand. “You refer to the guard on the smallcraft deck? I assure you, I was seeking nothing but my own safety at that moment.”
“Would it not have been more prudent to simply shoot him? If he had succeeded in giving the alarm your escape might have come to a rapid and sad conclusion at that point.”
“Perhaps so,” Peters admitted.
She nodded. “Just so. To continue: You gave your pursuers ample opportunity to withdraw; when they scorned that option, you held your fire well past the point of prudence, launching your blow only when faced with the stark choice of kill or die. The blow itself was clean and decisive, and you did not remain to boast or gloat, nor did you seek retribution.” She faced him with a broad grin over the fingers she had folded down. “Throughout the episode you made repeated offers of amity and cooperation, which were contemptuously pushed aside. Really I hadn’t thought it all through myself. My admiration is rekindled; your only omission was that you failed to take with you a number of Grallt to serve you in your new establishment.”
“Hmph,” said Peters. “The events you describe scarcely seem related to the ones I experienced. What I recall is pain, fear, and desperate improvisation.”
Dzheenis pinched his lower lip again. “That detracts not a whit from the tale,” he said judiciously. “If anything it adds. To keep ‘desperate improvisation’ so far within the bounds of civilized custom is remarkable in and of itself.”
“Hmph,” Peters grunted again. “So you would expect that this missive—” he indicated the note “—contains offers of amity and cooperation?”
“I know what it contains,” Khurs declared. “I helped draft it. Would you like me to read it to you?”
“I would appreciate it, if you would be so kind.”
She nodded. “‘You may order your lives without reference to the wishes of others, unless you yourself grant those wishes power,’” she quoted. “I am not under direction; nevertheless I choose to grant your request, of my own will. Are these the proper terms of reference?”
“They are, and I thank you.”
“Defer your thanks until I have finished.” She picked up the note, glanced at it for a moment, and began to read in her strong clear baritone:
“Depa’olze Peters—”
“Disgraceful,” Dzheenis muttered. “He omits the honor-syllable from your name.”
Peters shook his head. “I take pride in being so addressed, but it is an innovation of the Grallt of Llapaaloapalla. He has my name correct in its original form.”
“Now shush,” Khurs admonished. Dzheenis subsided, and the girl began again:
“Depa’olze Peters,
I send you greetings and felicitations, along with wishes for an extended and prosperous existence. Your exploits among us have been remarkable, both in themselves and in the clever, even artful way you have blended the old and the new to induce our admiration and excite our imaginations.
You have taken nothing from us but the most rare and precious, beyond a few trifles of incidental equipment. I feel secure in assuming that those trophies, together with your own formidable resources, will assure your continued and ultimate success. In aid of that, however insignificant that aid may be, I present you with the two before you.
They are called by us Dzheenis and Khurs. Dzheenis is a male of proven vigor, and a supercargo and accountant of great skill and precision. Khurs is a scribe of notable accomplishments, fluent in three tongues of the kree and capable in two others, as well as glib and precise in Language and the trade speech. Unless maltreated they cannot fail to add luster to what is already an establishment of considerable brilliance.
Again, felicitations and best wishes. I hope to encounter you in person at some time in the future, under amiable conditions.
Candor Zin
Depa’olze of the zin pa’ol”
Peters started to
comment, but she held up a hand. “Wait, please. He has added a postscript which was not part of the document I drafted.” She scanned, colored, and began again to read aloud:
“The girl Khurs is also a purveyor of sexual gratification of unique competence: warm, clever, inventive, and compliant, besides being an amiable companion in the intervals. If your taste includes such sport, you will not find her wanting in any way. And Luter sends her regards, along with wistful regrets that you were unable to take her along. For my own part I cannot regret the latter. I treasure her companionship more than may be entirely reasonable, and am glad she remains with me.
CZ”
She looked over the top of the note, her face a bright-pink mixture of embarrassment, dread and—regret? “Does your taste include such sport, ze Peteris?” she asked.
“I have indulged in such ‘sport’, and believe I gave satisfaction as well as receiving it, although no male can ever achieve certainty in that regard.” He held her eyes. “Two factors intrude: first, I strongly prefer not to indulge in ‘sport’ unless I believe the female to be at least equally so inclined; and second, my appetites are fully satiated, and my physical prowess might be considered oversubscribed, by the arrangement I find myself in.”
“You don’t find me desirable?”
“I didn’t say that.” He grinned. “My first thought upon seeing you was ‘deliciously pretty’, and I have not changed that assessment. Under proper conditions I would certainly make the proposal, in hope and anticipation.”
In the gathering twilight he could no longer make out the color of her face, but she grimaced, then smiled a little wanly. “You are complimentary.” She looked down, then met his eyes again. “In a way it is something of a pity. Candor Zin is—was—kind and considerate, and taught me much in what he calls the ‘intervals’; I looked forward to the occasions with pleased anticipation. I suppose I was entertaining the hope that you would accept my services in that regard, as well as my person.”
Peters shook his head. “That option is permanently closed. For me to even consider it would be such an offense against the custom of my people as to be loathesome; carrying it out would be an act of insupportable vileness.”
Dhzeenis sighed in the growing gloom. “In any case I would have no such inducement to offer. Come, Khurs. We have intruded upon ze Peteris’s attention far beyond the bounds of necessity; I wonder that he is so patient. In addition, I note that it is growing dark and cold. We should leave ze Peteris to go about his affairs, and seek shelter and sustenance for ourselves before our bodies take on the same attributes.”
“You have the right of it,” said Khurs, regret coloring her voice. She rose. “Depa’olze Peters, we thank you for your attention. You are kind and considerate, and a philosopher as well. May your affairs go as you desire.”
Peters grimaced. A gentleman and a scholar, is it? “Wait,” he said. “Please seat yourselves. There are matters we have not yet attended to.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“You’re very late,” Ander said, her voice muffled from having her face pressed against his chest. “We were beginning to worry.”
“Yes,” Alper breathed into his right ear. “We had visualized you abducted again, and it was hard to say which was worse: thinking of you undergoing horrid tortures, or imagining you winning free to return with another brace of females to compete with us for your affections.”
“I have everything I need or want in that regard,” he told them, and accompanied the words with a gentle squeeze.
“I should hope so.” Alper leaned back a little to look into his face. “You’re tired,” she commented. “Ander, it’s my turn; will you join us tonight? I feel the need for mutual comfort.”
“Thank you, Alper.” Ander pushed herself away a few millimeters and looked up. “Is that all right with you, John?”
“It’s exactly what I might have wished.” Peters had no idea how the two women allocated his time between them; the method seemed to satisfy them, and he had no complaint. The occasional sessions of ‘mutual comfort’ were happy and without pressure, a true joy. “First I must complete the resolution of the matter that delayed me,” he told them, and turned his head. “Dzheenis, Khurs, please enter.”
The two Grallt entered the room, to stand uncertainly before the door, and both women stiffened. “John, you are a duplicitous creature,” Alper Gor said accusingly. “First you tell us your requirements are entirely met, and then we find you’ve imported Khurs! Ander, let me modify my invitation. We can comfort one another, and leave this enterprising fellow to his new delights.”
“Your proposal seems sound,” Ander said, lifting her head to look at the two Grallt. “Ah, well, John is a vigorous man, and younger than Candor Zin; perhaps there will be some scraps left for us.”
“Calm yourselves,” Peters admonished. “Khurs is not here in that capacity. She has been discarded by Candor Zin, and comes to us as a refugee. She deserves compassion, not jealous accusations.” The girls relaxed somewhat, and he continued: “Here also is Dzheenis, who finds himself in the same state. Consider the two equivalent in my affections.”
“That does put a different complexion on the matter,” said Alper. “Hello, Khurs. I had thought never to see you again.”
“Hello,” said Khurs, evincing wariness. “I had the same thought. Your vanishing from the adult girls’ quarters in the company of an alien was a shock to us all. Little else is being discussed aboard ship.”
“It’s a wonder to us as well,” Alper told her. “I greet you, Dzheenis.”
“And I you,” the big man said with a nod.
“Good,” said Peters. “I’m glad to see amity restored. Dzheenis and Khurs need our help, but they will have to comfort one another.”
Ander and Alper relaxed somewhat but remained alert. “You must have done something remarkable to extract Khurs from the clutches of Candor Zin,” Alper said. “It’s a wonder you aren’t badly hurt. I don’t see so much as a broken fingernail.”
“Their suits have been blanked,” Ander noted. “It seems that Candor Zin has relinquished them voluntarily, for what reason I can’t imagine. Dzheenis was hardly lower in his regard than Khurs; he is young, but already a negotiator of some note.”
Alper Gor went rigid, and an Oh! of mingled astonishment and pleasure escaped her lips. She pushed herself back to half an arm-length and looked down at the other woman. “It’s no wonder we’re the talk of the ship, Ander! It’s the event of a lifetime. We are a pa’ol!”
Ander brought her head erect. “Pahp! How can three persons constitute a pa’ol?”
“We have a depa’olze, and one of great vigor and resource,” Alper said with a broad grin, and touched Peters gently at the base of his throat. “We have females of breeding age, you and me. Now we have Grallt, and the requirements are satisfied.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said Ander somewhat critically, “but it’s an incredibly sketchy version of a pa’ol. If the requirements are indeed met, it’s so minimally as to be almost a joke.”
“It’s not a joke, it’s wonderful! At some point John would have rejoined his own pa’ol, and where would you and I be then? Back with the adult girls, to idle ourselves in cold beds between occasional calls for our services, if we weren’t culled in favor of those already resident!” She sighed, eyes brimming, and sank against him once more. “It is beyond hope.”
“Easy,” Peters told them gently. “Your fears were groundless, Alper; I wish you had expressed them to me earlier, so that I might have dispelled them.” He gave them both a squeeze, a light flexing of his arms. “We must discuss in more detail the customs of the human ptith, but for the moment we should turn our attention to Dzheenis and Khurs. They are between one status and another, and fearful of their futures on that account. They should be fed, treated with consideration, and given such comfort as we can provide.” He smiled and gave another squeeze. “In other words, they are guests, and in a distressed condition. We sho
uld act accordingly.”
“I suppose so,” said Alper. She kissed him and broke away. “Welcome to our abode,” she said to the two Grallt.
Dzheenis nodded. “Thank you for your welcome. We are sorry to intrude.”
“Don’t apologize,” Ander told him, encompassing Khurs in the statement with a glance. “We were surprised to see you, but perhaps we should not have been. John is a remarkable individual, and we still can’t predict his actions with any reliability. Returning with a pair of Grallt is well within the scope of his potentialities.”
“Yes,” Alper agreed. “He might equally be expected to have the command keys of Trader 1049 in his pocket, or the Jewel of Ropta in fully functional condition.” She spread her arms and smiled. “You are guests,” she noted. “What do you require for your comfort?”
Dzheenis grimaced. “The use of a toilet facility would be greatly appreciated.”
“Through the door on your right,” Alper said economically. “Khurs, I see you’ve been crying. If you’d like to order yourself, there’s another facility inside that bedchamber and to the left.”
“Thank you,” said Khurs. “I’ve been crying, and laughing, and everything between. I’ve received such shocks in the past llor as I never imagined to encounter.”
“John has that effect sometimes,” Ander noted with amusement.
“So it would seem, based on my limited experience… I’ll go and order my appearance.” She slipped through the bedroom door.
After a moment Ander mused, “So we are a complete pa’ol. That’s comforting, to a degree I find a little surprising.”
“Yes,” Alper agreed vigorously. “The arrangement has felt tentative and insecure.”
“Don’t protest, John,” Ander put in. “You’ve made every effort possible, and I for one had begun to realize that we were establishing a stable if unconventional relationship, but satisfying the forms of our own society, even on such a minimal basis, supports my emotions in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.”
