by Jack Vance
suffered search of an intimate nature. He wasthree-dimensionally X-rayed with a range of frequencies calculated toexcite fluorescence in whatever object he might have secreted in hisstomach, in a hollow bone, or under a layer of flesh.
His luggage was explored with similar minute attention, and Murphyrescued his cameras with difficulty. "What're you so damn anxious about?I don't have drugs; I don't have contraband ..."
"It's guns, your excellency. Guns, weapons, explosives ..."
"I don't have any guns."
"But these objects here?"
"They're cameras. They record pictures and sounds and smells."
The inspector seized the cases with a glittering smile of triumph. "Theyresemble no cameras of my experience; I fear I shall have to impound ..."
A young man in loose white pantaloons, a pink vest, pale green cravatand a complex black turban strolled up. The inspector made a swiftobeisance, with arms spread wide. "Excellency."
The young man raised two fingers. "You may find it possible to spare Mr.Murphy any unnecessary formality."
"As your Excellency recommends...." The inspector nimbly repackedMurphy's belongings, while the young man looked on benignly.
Murphy covertly inspected his face. The skin was smooth, the color ofthe rising moon; the eyes were narrow, dark, superficially placid. Theeffect was of silken punctilio with hot ruby blood close beneath.
Satisfied with the inspector's zeal, he turned to Murphy. "Allow me tointroduce myself, Tuan Murphy. I am Ali-Tomas, of the House ofSinghalut, and my father the Sultan begs you to accept our poorhospitality."
"Why, thank you," said Murphy. "This is a very pleasant surprise."
"If you will allow me to conduct you...." He turned to the inspector."Mr. Murphy's luggage to the palace."
* * * * *
Murphy accompanied Ali-Tomas into the outside light, fitting his ownquick step to the prince's feline saunter. This is coming it prettysoft, he said to himself. I'll have a magnificent suite, with bowls offruit and gin pahits, not to mention two or three silken girls with skinlike rich cream bringing me towels in the shower.... Well, well, well,it's not so bad working for _Know Your Universe!_ after all! I suppose Iought to unlimber my camera....
Prince Ali-Tomas watched him with interest. "And what is the audience of_Know Your Universe!_?"
"We call 'em 'participants'."
"Expressive. And how many participants do you serve?"
"Oh, the Bowdler Index rises and falls. We've got about two hundredmillion screens, with five hundred million participants."
"Fascinating! And tell me--how do you record smells?"
Murphy displayed the odor recorder on the side of the camera, with itsgelatinous track which fixed the molecular design.
"And the odors recreated--they are like the originals?"
"Pretty close. Never exact, but none of the participants knows thedifference. Sometimes the synthetic odor is an improvement."
"Astounding!" murmured the prince.
"And sometimes ... Well, Carson Tenlake went out to get themyrrh-blossoms on Venus. It was a hot day--as days usually are onVenus--and a long climb. When the show was run off, there was more smellof Carson than of flowers."
Prince Ali-Tomas laughed politely. "We turn through here."
They came out into a compound paved with red, green and white tiles.Beneath the valley roof was a sinuous trough, full of haze and warmthand golden light. As far in either direction as the eye could reach, thehillsides were terraced, barred in various shades of green. Spatteringthe valley floor were tall canvas pavilions, tents, booths, shelters.
"Naturally," said Prince Ali-Tomas, "we hope that you and yourparticipants will enjoy Singhalut. It is a truism that, in order toimport, we must export; we wish to encourage a pleasurable response tothe 'Made in Singhalut' tag on our _batiks_, carvings, lacquers."
They rolled quietly across the square in a surface-car displaying theHouse emblem. Murphy rested against deep, cool cushions. "Yourinspectors are pretty careful about weapons."
Ali-Tomas smiled complacently. "Our existence is ordered and peaceful.You may be familiar with the concept of _adak_?"
"I don't think so."
"A word, an idea from old Earth. Every living act is ordered by ritual.But our heritage is passionate--and when unyielding _adak_ stands in theway of an irresistible emotion, there is turbulence, sometimes evenkilling."
"An _amok_."
"Exactly. It is as well that the _amok_ has no weapons other than hisknife. Otherwise he would kill twenty where now he kills one."
The car rolled along a narrow avenue, scattering pedestrians to eitherside like the bow of a boat spreading foam. The men wore loose whitepantaloons and a short open vest; the women wore only the pantaloons.
"Handsome set of people," remarked Murphy.
Ali-Tomas again smiled complacently. "I'm sure Singhalut will present aninspiring and beautiful spectacle for your program."
Murphy remembered the keynote to Howard Frayberg's instructions:"_Excitement! Sex! Mystery!_" Frayberg cared little for inspiration orbeauty. "I imagine," he said casually, "that you celebrate a number ofinteresting festivals? Colorful dancing? Unique customs?"
Ali-Tomas shook his head. "To the contrary. We left our superstitionsand ancestor-worship back on Earth. We are quiet Mohammedans and indulgein very little festivity. Perhaps here is the reason for _amoks_ andsjambaks."
"Sjambaks?"
"We are not proud of them. You will hear sly rumor, and it is betterthat I arm you beforehand with truth."
"What is a sjambak?"
"They are bandits, flouters of authority. I will show you onepresently."
"I heard," said Murphy, "of a man riding a horse up to meet thespace-ships. What would account for a story like that?"
"It can have no possible basis," said Prince Ali-Tomas. "We have nohorses on Cirgamesc. None whatever."
"But ..."
"The veriest idle talk. Such nonsense will have no interest for yourintelligent participants."
The car rolled into a square a hundred yards on a side, lined withluxuriant banana palms. Opposite was an enormous pavilion of gold andviolet silk, with a dozen peaked gables casting various changing sheens.In the center of the square a twenty-foot pole supported a cage abouttwo feet wide, three feet long, and four feet high.
Inside this cage crouched a naked man.
The car rolled past. Prince Ali-Tomas waved an idle hand. The caged manglared down from bloodshot eyes. "That," said Ali-Tomas, "is a sjambak.As you see," a faint note of apology entered his voice, "we attempt todiscourage them."
"What's that metal object on his chest?"
"The mark of his trade. By that you may know all sjambak. In theseunsettled times only we of the House may cover our chests--all othersmust show themselves and declare themselves true Singhalusi."
Murphy said tentatively, "I must come back here and photograph thatcage."
Ali-Tomas smilingly shook his head. "I will show you our farms, ourvines and orchards. Your participants will enjoy these; they have nointerest in the dolor of an ignoble sjambak."
"Well," said Murphy, "our aim is a well-rounded production. We want toshow the farmers at work, the members of the great House at theirresponsibilities, as well as the deserved fate of wrongdoers."
"Exactly. For every sjambak there are ten thousand industriousSinghalusi. It follows then that only one ten-thousandth part of yourfilm should be devoted to this infamous minority."
"About three-tenths of a second, eh?"
"No more than they deserve."
"You don't know my Production Director. His name is Howard Frayberg,and ..."
* * * * *
Howard Frayberg was deep in conference with Sam Catlin, under theinfluence of what Catlin called his philosophic kick. It was the phasewhich Catlin feared most.
"Sam," said Frayberg, "do you know the danger of this business?"
"Ulcers,
" Catlin replied promptly.
Frayberg shook his head. "We've got an occupational disease tofight--progressive mental myopia."
"Speak for yourself," said Catlin.
"Consider. We sit in this office. We think we know what kind of show wewant. We send out our staff to get it. We're signing the checks, so backit comes the way we asked for it. We look at it, hear it, smell it--andpretty soon we believe it: our version of the universe, full-blown fromour brains like Minerva stepping out of Zeus. You see what I mean?"
"I understand
