At length King Mukanahan sent out the message that he would summon a great council, the first such in a thousand years, and he set as the time for it the approaching Solstice, always a festive season and a time of pilgrimage to the Holy Court. Once or twice a courier in scarlet and black, white band fastened to her helmet, and a sprig of leaves in her empty scabbard, came to the Court; and it was known that overtures toward attaining to the now-vacant High Keepership had been made by some surviving Great Lady.
It was known, too, that the Holy Presence had not been pleased to make any reply.
And many people, of both sexes and of all classes, not knowing where else to turn, clinging automatically to the sole remaining symbol of authority, flocked to the vast precincts of the Court even in advance of the time for the council. There were supplies enough to feed them if they had stayed for years.
“The people still pray and the sun still rises,” O-Narra said to Jory. “But other things will never be the same again.”
“I suppose not,” Jory said. “Levvis tells me that his wife is expecting a child. He picked up some ideas about boat-building on Humboldt’s Two Worlds, one of which is mostly water, and he says that he intends to settle on the River Lin when the council is over, and try to teach the boatsmen there what he knows.”
O-Narra nodded. Slowly a smile crept over her face, and she said, “It is not only Levvis’s wife who is expecting a child.” He looked up at her quickly. She nodded, and said, “I feel life stirring within me. And I am sure that it will be a man-child, and of his father’s size when he is fully grown.”
Too full of emotion for words, he kissed her, and they were silent for a long time. Then she said again, “Other things will never be the same … many men who were the plural mates of a Great Lady have taken each of them a new wife. There have not been enough men to go around for generations, and each generation there have been fewer. Some of the men have been doing something we had never even heard of, except in old daddy’s tales. Some of the men have taken more than one wife each.”
They sat on the mossy verge of a stone pool, watching tiny blue water-creatures dart around, in and out of the shadows of the leaning lo trees, watched the sun catching the ripples of the surface. Jory nodded, slowly. “Polygamy … It makes sense, under the circumstances,” he said.
Her next words were even more surprising. She told him that it made sense not only for the men of the land. Levvis, too, must take many wives. And Mars, and Storm, Duston, Crammer — and even Rond. “If he is not too old,” she added. “But I do not think he is too old, Jory — do you?”
He smiled slightly. “I shouldn’t think so … But why do you say they must, O-Narra?”
Her manner was matter-of fact, but quite sincere, as she told him why. Evidently she had thought it all out to her own satisfaction. The people of the land needed the vigor of the new Great Men. Their bloodlines were old and could only profit by the addition of fresh ones. It would be certain to mean more men-children, since — as she had been told — among Jory’s people there were more males born than females. And the children of these unions, the men-children in particular, would be a further source of fresh and vigorous blood. Their sons must also take many wives. They would thus spread not only the greater physical vigor of the new men but also their greater knowledge. And, finally, but not least, by substituting polygamy for polyandry an absolute end could be written to the old aristocratic system.
He mused on this. Something occurred to him. “You say that Levvis must do this, and Storm and Mars and Duston and Crammer and even Rond. Then — ”
“Yes! Then Jory must do it, too!”
Since the debacle he had been trying to accustom himself to the fact that his old world, his old muliplicity of worlds, was gone forever. That he was here, forever, on a world altogether new, altogether different. One thing above all others had helped him to make this adjustment: O-Narra — who represented a new world all her own. And now O-Narra was refusing to have him all to herself, she was proposing to share him, to restore to him — or, rather, to provide him with — a new multiplicity of worlds. Would he himself, had conditions been reversed, been capable of such unselfishness? He knew that he would not.
“I think … I think …” He found himself stumbling over his tongue as well as his thoughts. “I think that … since you feel this way … that you should make the first choice….”
She said, “I have”
“You — oh. Who?”
“Nelsa. She is a strong woman who will give you strong children. And she is sensible enough to prefer a share of one good man to all of a poor one. Let her pick your third wife, and let the third one pick the fourth, and — ”
“Hold on!” he exclaimed. “Hold on! Don’t rush me! Uh … why don’t you talk to Captain Rond?”
• • •
They found him walking in the garden of his quarters, walking back and forth with a stately air. He had recovered from his period of great shock, was looking perhaps better than Jory recalled having seen him look since they had arrived on Valentine’s World. He greeted them affably.
“I’m particularly glad to see you, Cane, just at this moment. I have many things to tell you. Now that we are likely to be here for the foreseeable future, it behooves us all to take stock of our situation and our resources. We aren’t the only ones who’ve been shaken up, you know, and forced to re-evaluate our lives. Everyone on this continent has had to. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to King Mukanahan, you know. Despite the narrowness of his life and upbringing he’s by no means unintelligent. And I think I may say that he found in me a fellow philosopher. I’ve done my best to give him some understanding of the universe we know and of its other inhabitants and how they developed. For example, my information dealt with the history of our own people on the old Homeworld, their rude beginnings, the strife and struggles of empire, the fumbling and the bungling of democracy, and then the commencement of the Technic Period and the development of the Academic Guilds, the best system of government known to man.”
Jory had decided against trying to follow or accompany Rond as he walked up and down the garden. He and O-Narra sat on the low wall and watched and listened. Now and then, as the older man stopped, and looked at him, inquiringly, Jory said, “Yes, sir.” And then Rond was off again.
It was by now quite obvious, according to Rond, that the old system of government here was gone forever. Not enough of the old ruling caste of warrior-aristocrats remained to reinstitute the former ways of life. This was, of course, a good thing. Still and all, there was much to be said for the old way, barbaric though its expression was. It gave stability, discipline, cohesion. Enough respect for it still remained to provide a foundation for a new structure which would combine the best of the old with the best of the new….
“Are you following me in all this, Cane?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rond nodded, continued his conversational walkings. First of all, the King would have to abdicate. There was no need for a monarchy, nor even a figurehead. The obvious form the new government should take was that of an oligarchy, like the Directorates of the Academic Guilds. Eventually, in fact, an Academy would be set up to inculcate the proper principles. Now — who should comprise the oligarchy, the directorate? The answer was obvious. Rond and his men, for one. The surviving members of the warrior-aristocracy, for another.
They would unite in more than rule. They would unite in marriage. Breed a new race. Their children would marry among themselves, and only among themselves. Doubtless the male genes would prove prepotent and the male children be of normal size. Any exceptions would be rigidly excluded.
“Now is the time to start, Cane,” Rond said, a glow of conviction animating his face. “Now — while the people are still quiescent and willing to do as they are told. Before anarchic notions get spread abroad. And think of the future! This is, after all, only a single continent. There are other continents, other countries. We can extend our rule over the whole
planet, eventually.”
Jory asked, “Have you told all this to the King?”
“I have.”
“He knows he must abdicate?”
“Yes. I think he’s glad of the opportunity. I could see that he was deeply impressed by what I had to tell him. The so-called council will be held shortly, but it will have no duty other than to accept the decision and to see that it’s carried out. I have sent communications to the surviving Great Ladies, and I don’t doubt that a perfect accord can be reached with them.
“As for our own men, that’s your task, Cane. I expect they will jump at the chance. After all, what were they before? Now they can be aristocrats, oligarchs, directors. It means great responsibilities, stern self-sacrificing conduct, hard work. But it will be done.”
Eventually, after more of the same, more “Yes sirs” punctuating the perambulations, Jory and O-Narra got away.
It was late afternoon. Somewhere a gong sounded, voices murmured faintly and rhythmically. The smoke of cooking fires rose thinly on the cooling air.
To O-Narra, Jory said, “Was this what you had in mind?”
Clear green eyes sober in her pale, heart-shaped face, she made with her hand the gesture of negation. “Sword-Narra is dead, and I am glad of it,” she said. “I would not want her to come to life once more. And you — the father of my child which is to be?”
He took her hands. “I have no desire to be Sword-Jory,” he said. “No desire at all.”
• • •
Levvis rejected the idea entirely. “All’s I want to do is sit on the banks of that river,” he said, “and build my boats. Seems as though I’ve always wanted something like that, but I never knew it before. Well, I know it now, and that’s it. I got no intention of becoming a member of any ruling class. I’ll give the old man a free boatride. But that’s all I’ll do for him.”
Mars said he was with Levvis. “A man who can use his hands can make out real good here, Jory. I’ve got lots of notions, and if I fiddle around with them, why, I guess some of them ought to come out real good. Do you know what? Do you know these people have never even heard of either windmills or water-wheels? Remember how many of both there were back there on Regius Two, in the Lace Pattern? I always got a kick out of hanging around and watching how they worked. Now I can make them, myself. No politics for me, I guess.”
Crammer said, “I’m still a Guildsman. I take orders. As far as I know, Captain Rond is still the Captain. I’m not interested in piddling around with toys. Somebody has to run this place and I think the Captain’s notions of how to run it are just fine. And if he’s willing to let me share the rule, why shouldn’t I take him up on it? Why should we let our race become absorbed by these midgets? Yes, First Officer — tell Captain Rond that I’m with him. All the way. All the way.”
And Duston stood there with his head bowed a long time. Finally he said, “I don’t know. The notion of living in a castle and running things my way seems kind of exciting. But … I can’t forget old Locky’s last words about seeing that the farmers here got a break. He said they should be able to own their own land. That’s fair enough, isn’t it? I guess I’ll just wait and see. What kind of a deal the farmers will get — that is what will make up my mind for me. I’ll just wait and see.”
Jory had some trouble finding Storm, located him at last as he came back from a one-man mountain climbing expedition. His reaction was simple.
“I joined for the adventure. I always said so, and I never claimed differently. If the skipper’s scheme is for me to sit in an office and do desk work, nix. I’d sooner build me a raft and just drift out to sea and see where I came ashore and was was doing there, wherever it is, in the way of excitement. But if this new notion will keep me active, then I might take him up on it. Yes, I might very well take him up on it….”
Sire Jahan, the small equerry, was as cordial as ever. He listened to Jory’s request for a meeting with the King; then said, “I will present your request as soon as the great council is over. To present it now would be impossible. The Holy Presence has retired to prepare himself for the event. And no one may interrupt his fasting, his meditation, or his prayer.” He bowed, in the room with the dim blue tapestries upon the ancient walls.
Someone was waiting to see Jory when he returned to his quarters. Nelsa …
He had almost forgotten her. It was plain that she had not forgotten him. “I am still waiting, Giant, for questions to be answered,” was her greeting.
“Questions cannot be answered, Nelsa, before they are asked,” he said.
She smiled her quick smile, but there was something impatient in her expression. “Let us not play with words, then,” she declared. “Are you willing for me to be one of your wives?”
“I am, Nelsa.”
“Would your leader include me and my outlaws in his new class of rulers?”
Jory hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know him. I am inclined to doubt it.”
“You have given me one straight answer, Giant, and an answer which is no answer at all. So now hear my answers. I will be your wife among other wives if things are to be no more as they were before. Or, I will accept a share in your Captain’s way of rule. But I will not bow down to a new caste which would exclude me as the former one did. Nor will any of the women of the forest. Now you have my own answers. Perhaps there will be other questions to fit my answers, at the great council. Until then — Giant, farewell.”
She left him troubled and uncertain. But O-Narra was there to comfort him.
• • •
Meanwhile, the ferment continued, with new elements coming to the surface. Or, at least, elements which had not been perceived before. A priest of the woods came forth and declared that he was in communication with the collective over-soul of the people of the land and that, according to information received, only the complete immolation of the surviving Sword-Ladies — as a sacrifice of atonement — could save the land. There were those who listened … but, so far, none who acted … so far. Another faction, and a not inconsiderable one, wanted Mukanahan and his courtiers to revive the pre-Keeperate system of government; the O-Ban to become Ban once again, with direct male rule as it had been a thousand years before. And (so both O-Narra and Nelsa revealed) there were those among the outlaws who saw no reason why they themselves should not simply exchange all-black armor for red-and-black, restore the rule of women — but with different women (namely, the outlaw women) doing the ruling.
And there was also a fourth new element.
“Of course, they were wrong!” a familiar voice was saying, as Jory came into Rond’s courtyard. That is, it had been familar, but for the moment he couldn’t seem to place it. “Of course, they were wrong. It didn’t take them long to find that out.”
“That’s for sure!”
“Boy, is it ever — !”
These two other voices he could not remember ever having heard. Three voices, not of the pettyboat group, but speaking their own language — it could only mean one thing —
Not all the men aboard Persephone had perished!
Jory stayed right where he was, silent, listening.
“… the madness of crowds, the psychology of contagions … not right …” The hauntingly familiar voice went on, its tones now low and confidential, now high and eagerly persuasive. “… easy to understand … past is done with and … new start to … need every man … thicker than water …”
Jory felt a cough coming, and moved on. It came, and he was grateful for it, for it gave him a chance to mask his feelings. He didn’t move away when a tall figure slapped him on the back, and if his flesh twisted a bit, why, that might have been nothing but the spasm of the cough.
Rond’s face was shining, and he launched into talk while Jory was still clearing his throat. “ — a stroke of extraordinary luck, Mr. Cane! Three more men to help us in the heavy tasks which lie ahead of us, three of our own men, we must after all consider them our own men despite the erro
rs of the past, in which they appear to have been more sinned against than sinning. In the case of” — his voice never paused, as if he wished to give Jory no chance to interrupt — “Fourth Officer Hanks Andar, why, Mr. Andar had been on double-duty all night and naturally wishing to get as much rest as possible he had turned off the wall-communicator and being naturally a heavy sleeper anyway he heard nothing and knew nothing of the mutiny until it was an accomplished fact and the pettyboat had already left; while in the case of Guildsmen Torry and Shore, they were unable to assert themselves against the mutinous majority, and this is not to be wondered at, because we all understand what the Pre-T called the madness of crowds and the psychology of contagious excitement, mass hypnotism, mass delusion — you know, Mr. Cane, it’s easy to understand how it could have happened, the past is over and done with now and the future is only here, here where we have to make a new start to begin the work of reconstructing society and government. You see that, I’m sure, as well as I do; you see that we’ll need every man, every real man, that is, the native men being of inferior genes and stunted in mind as well as body, and much as we may like them we must regard them as children to be instructed and not as partners — no, no, not as partners, impossible — blood is after all thicker than water, and …”
He went on and on. Everyone looked at everyone else. But only Rond was speaking.
Fourth Officer Hanks Andar — Jory barely knew him, had never met him before the last journey of the Persephone. A fourth officer was never much, anyway, and Andar had seemed a little bit less than that. A fourth officer was usually very young, too, and Andar must have been in his thirties. He couldn’t have been over twenty-one when he got his first commission, and to have remained in the same low grade for at least ten years indicated a basic flaw in character. A man could be unsuited for life in the Guild service and still be a good man — but if a man, thus unsuited, didn’t realize it and get out early, then he couldn’t be a very good man.
Mutiny in Space Page 13
