Sci Fiction Classics Volume 3

by Vol 3 (v1. 2) (epub)

  "You are pleased, then. This is satisfactory?" Nara-Lim asked quietly.

  "Are you pleased?" The companion asked with a becoming urgency.

  "Yes. Yes, I am pleased." He dragged his eyes from the companion and turned to Nara-Lim. "You have done me great honor, and I am beholden."

  The old Papi turned almost double. "It is we who are honored. No Janif has ever before been so generous of his interest; no Janif has even bothered to learn from us. You have been most kind."

  "Really," he said. "What more is there for me to do? Are there rituals, or documents …?"

  "A brief ritual," Nara-Lim said diffidently. "It is to assure your care of your companion, since it is wholly dependent on you. They are made for one individual and may not be changed. We feel it is essential to have a ceremony to establish this."

  "Commendable," Navbe said, hoping that the ritual would be short. He was anxious to return to the Terrace House. The companion would be his then, for whatever purposes he chose. His auxiliary arms drew his robes more closely about him so that the Papi could not see the agitation he was feeling.

  "Then, if you will come this way?" Nara-Lim held open the door to the garden. "I arranged for the proper setting earlier. I hope this does not distress you. Ordinarily it would be for you to do, but I thought that you would forgive me this liberty."

  "Your behavior is excellent, Nara-Lim." How he hated exchanging these useless formalities with this race of precious animals. Only the promise that was held in the companion's body kept him reasonable and accepting of the ridiculous wishes of the Papi. "I am unfamiliar with your ways and find your tact most rewarding."

  They went into the small garden where Nara-Lim had lit a number of ornamental fires in braziers. Then he threw scented water on the companion. He next gave each a plant to hold while he recited some unfamiliar words. When the plants had been burned in the braziers, it was over.

  "Very pretty," Navbe remarked, thinking it all very stupid. The companion clung to his auxiliary arm.

  "In five days there will be a ceremonial visit paid to you, as assurance that you are taking proper care of the companion. But you must not let this concern you. It is merely our way." He made an elaborate gesture to signify the perfunctory nature of the visit.

  "I thank you for telling me." This was genuine thanks, for Navbe realized that he must be careful to leave no mark that might arouse suspicion as to his use of the companion. There must be no sign of abuse; at least, not for the first five days.

  The Papi elder bowed. "Go then. And learn of each other."

  Navbe led the companion away from Nara-Lim's garden with unseemly haste, smiling ferociously.

  Although Ambassador Lesh suspected why Navbe had taken the companion, he was careful not to show this in his manner. He greeted Navbe as he returned and directed his servants to show them to the Terrace House.

  "I know you will understand that this is the best of the separate houses I have," he said uneasily.

  "Of course. This had to be expected." The patronizing sound of his voice grated, and Ambassador Lesh had to force himself to ignore it.

  "You should find it adequate," he responded at last, when he was sure he would not overstep his status.

  "Adequate," Navbe agreed. He turned to the companion, glowing fragile and childlike beside him. "It will do for you," he told the companion with a sound curiously like a snort.

  "Wherever you are, that is truly the best place to be," murmured the companion in a sweet, trilling voice.

  Navbe was surprised. He hadn't expected quite so much ability in the companion and was not sure he wanted it. But devotion would be something new, and he thought it would amuse him.

  "Do you hear, Lesh? It's quite alarmingly faithful." The cruel eyes mocked the rigid control of the Ambassador. "Were you about to warn me of the natives? Your little Nara-Lim has done so already. Charmingly. We went through a ceremony designed to overwhelm me with the honor of the occasion." He turned again to the companion. "He wanted me to understand what I was being given. As if I needed him to tell me." He laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh.

  "They are meant to be faithful, Undersecretary. I understand that they cannot be altered to suit another once they have been given to … someone …" he ended awkwardly.

  "Are you suggesting that I take this with me when I leave? With all that's being said about me?" He had taken the precaution of speaking Janif rather than his approximation of Papi. "Really, Lesh. This is an animal, no more. I have it to amuse me and stave off the unutterable boredom of this place. When I leave, it will return to its people. You're wrong, you know, to think that creatures like this one really care about their masters. It's sham, Lesh. Just cunning and sham."

  "You're not to harm it," Ambassador Lesh cried recklessly.

  "Would it make your position here embarrassing?" Navbe looked at Lesh until the Ambassador was forced to look away. "I can't adapt my wants merely to suit you, Lesh. You know that, don't you?" He put his primary arm under the status badge on the front of his robe. "You do know that."

  "If Nara-Lim were to discover—"

  "Discover what?"

  "Certain things," Lesh said petulantly.

  "Lesh, you forget who you are." This was harshly said, and to emphasize the harshness Navbe put both auxiliary arms outside of his robe, thumbs twitching.

  "You will do as you wish," Ambassador Lesh allowed, in a defeated tone. "You will be shown to your Terrace House."

  "Oh, you may lead the way," Navbe said maliciously. It pleased him to take vengeance on Lesh by making him do servant's work, lower status servant's work.

  "As you say," Lesh said tightly.

  "I have not pleased you?" the companion asked anxiously.

  "Does it matter?"

  "I have tried to do as you wish. What more do you want of me?" The great sad eyes hovered over him.

  "What are you doing off your mat?" Navbe asked, entirely out of patience.

  "You are not pleased with me. What must I do?" Even the downy antlers quivered with emotion.

  "Do not fret. You were all compliance. Return to your mat." But even as he said it he was annoyed afresh. The children had not wanted him; they had fought him with their hands and new antlers as well as struggling and crying out when he assaulted them. This creature had accepted him, making no more than a whimper at the worst of it and looking with dumb reproachful eyes as it was ravished.

  "I must please you."

  "Then go to your mat!" With this he turned away and had the satisfaction of hearing the soft sounds as the companion curled on the mat at the foot of his bed. There was vulnerability after all.

  "Companion," he said without turning or rising.

  "Yes," answered the eager voice in the gloom.

  "You will learn to please me. It is that we are different in our ways. In time we will grow accustomed to one another."

  There was relief in the little voice as it answered. "Oh, yes. There is plenty of time. I will learn. It is a promise. I will be as you want me."

  As Navbe fell into sleep, he knew that the companion would learn. He would see to it.

  Nara-Lim and the visitors were disturbed when they made the perfunctory five-day visit. There was a lingering pain in the eyes of the companion, an elusive sorrow that they could not understand. Questioned in private, the companion said: "We are different. That is the trouble. It will take time."

  "You are well, then?" Nara-Lim asked, uneasy without knowing why. He felt something he had not felt before, an oppressive air, a touch of hidden fury. He did not have a name for it, but he was afraid that the companion did.

  "I am well." The companion turned its eyes away, looking toward Navbe across the terrace.

  "Is there some trouble?" pursued Nara-Lim.

  "Just that we are strange to one another. I am learning to … please him." The trouble in the deep eyes faded. "He has promised to teach me and keep me by him forever. He promised."

  Nara-Lim nodded, and felt that
he ought to be satisfied: "It is probably as you say. They are not as we are."

  The companion came near to Nara-Lim. It gestured formally, a pale imitation of Navbe. "He is my master, Nara-Lim, and I am his companion. I must be his way now."

  "Yes," said Nara-Lim with equal formality. "That is the way of companions." But he was still unsure.

  "Come, you will talk with him. You will see how much he cares for me and how great is his esteem for me. I am fortunate indeed in this master." So saying, the companion led Nara-Lim across the terrace to where Navbe stood, surrounded by Papi, a gargoyle surrounded by fauns.

  When the visit was concluded, Nara-Lim went away with the rest, fearing that his gift had been a betrayal to his people. He had seen the look in the Janif's eyes, the contempt of his manner, and had heard him say fleetingly to Lesh that it would be welcome to him to be among civilized beings again. He had issued the binding orders himself, and felt no doubt at the time, but seeing the companion with the Janif now, he feared.

  "Another postponement!" Navbe snarled, hurling the directive to the floor. His sensors writhed on his hands and his tongue flicked uneasily over his outer lips.

  "What delay?" asked the companion meekly. It had seen fury in Navbe's stride when he had left Ambassador Lesh, and could feel the rage that consumed its master.

  "I am not summoned back …" He broke off, realizing who he was answering. "It is not important to you."

  The companion came to Navbe's side, its soft clothes whispering as it moved. "This thing has disturbed you. Let me bind your brow, or bathe you."

  Navbe tore the delicate primary hands from his forehead. "No!" He stormed across the room. "I do not want you sniveling around me!"

  The companion was shocked. "But I am here …"

  "I don't want you here!" Navbe punctuated this with a blow, and was rewarded with a moan. "Go away. Go bother someone else."

  "But I can't," the companion said softly. "I was made to be your companion, and I serve no other. I cannot leave you."

  Navbe turned murderously on it. "Then keep out of my way."

  "As you wish," the companion whispered unhappily.

  "And be silent!"

  Then he sat on the reclining cushions and thought. The delaying order was not entirely unexpected, but it angered him. There was not reason enough to refuse him the right to return to Jan. To be left on this outpost world with talkative pets was driving him distracted. He pulled at the directive with all four hands. The children could not have betrayed him. They were too frightened and too badly hurt. And for that they would have ordered him exterminated, not exiled. He feared that they might delay him forever, shifting him from remote world to remote world until his name had no power and his status was reduced to nothing. He scuffed at the tattered directive. That some low status clerk had sent it only made matters worse.

  "Would you want food, my master?" came the question from the far corner of the room.

  "No." There had to be something he could do to force the issue. He would protest to Secretary Vlelt. It was a risky business but he was not without status, and the Secretary might listen to him if he were careful in his phrasing. He made up his mind to work out a plea that very evening.

  "May I help you?" the companion asked, the ghost of a voice in the gathering dusk.

  "Come here," Navbe commanded, and when the companion was beside him, he sank all his hands into the young flesh.

  It was Ambassador Lesh who gave him the news that the Secretary had called him back to Jan.

  "When?" the Undersecretary demanded urgently.

  "As soon as possible." There was an expression on the Ambassador's face that might almost be disgust. "He needs your services, it would seem."

  "How many days before I must depart?" Navbe had unwittingly shown his interest in the order and felt that he had to brazen it out.

  "Four days, Undersecretary. I think you can be ready in that time."

  Navbe scowled. It was more than he was willing to tolerate, this superior attitude from an inferior. He would have something to say about it when he got back to Jan.

  "The Terrace House is yours until you leave, Undersecretary." Lesh started to move away.

  "I will expect you to prepare my belongings for departure," Navbe said smoothly. "All things suitably crated for the journey. That will include the bolts of cloth given me by the Papi, and that worked stone." It had been in the back of his mind to bring these products to the attention of the Merchant Council. That Ambassador Lesh had not done so would be a mark against his record.

  "And the companion."

  Navbe was getting out of patience with Lesh. "Send it back to its people. What good is it to me?"

  "I can't do that." Ambassador Lesh turned on the Undersecretary. "It has been made for you, and it is yours. If you abandon it, it will die. It cannot go back to its people." The heat in his words alarmed Navbe. He had been aware that Lesh was too wrapped up in the Papi but had not thought it was this far gone. He would have to recommend treatment when he saw the Representative Master.

  "Calm yourself, Ambassador. You make too much of these creatures. Certainly they are pleasing to look at, and they have their uses, but like all domestic livestock, they will transfer their allegiance in time." He put the directive in his sleeve. "Well, you will be busy the next few days, preparing to send me off." There was a quiet threat in his next words. "I don't imagine you will mention the companion to the Secretary. For the same reason, I will not mention the unwillingness you have shown in the exploitation of the crafts of the Papi. They are worth a lot. Were you saving them for yourself?" Then he stood back.

  The Ambassador's auxiliary hands grew livid, but he controlled himself enough to say: "I will say nothing." It was only when Navbe had walked away from him that he dared to ask: "How did you get to those children?"

  Klin Navbe only laughed.

  All his things were packed. Navbe surveyed the mound of crates in front of the door to the Terrace House and was satisfied. As last he was going back to Jan, where he would be with intelligent beings once again. He felt cleaner, better than he had since his arrival on Papill. It would be so little time now. He would be with real people.

  Ambassador Lesh was not there, nor had Navbe seen him at any time the past two days. Such was the way of those of low status: when challenged, they hid. It was part of the natural cowardice of the stratum.

  Behind him, Navbe sensed the companion, standing helplessly amid the desolation of the rooms. For the last day or so it had wandered disconsolately from room to room as the contents were crated and put outside the door. Now it stood, bewildered, looking at Navbe.

  "Don't worry," Navbe said without turning to it. "I'll leave you a present."

  "Leave me?" asked the Papi, uncomprehendingly.

  "You'll need something to live on. All right. I'll arrange it with Lesh." His mouth puckered at the thought.

  "No." It was a little word, barely said, as the companion sank to the floor, its huge eyes glazed as with a fever.

  Navbe twisted in impatience. It was always this way with house animals. "You'll be fine," he told the companion, joviality in his manner to conceal his impatience. "You knew I was going away. Don't let it bother you so much." He nudged the huddled figure at his feet with his boot.

  Four eager hands grabbed his leg through the folds of his robe. "Take me. Take me. Don't leave me here. You can't leave me here."

  Disgusted, Navbe shook the foot free of the desperate fingers. "Don't be foolish," he snapped, striding back to the door.

  "I belong to you," the companion said. "I was made to be part of you. You must take me with you." There was anguish in the little face now, and foreboding.

  "I am tired of this," Navbe announced. "If you want to see me off, you may follow me to the landing place. If not …" He shrugged elegantly.

  "There is nowhere I can go," murmured the companion to itself.

  "Nara-Lim will take care of you. Lesh will see to it. Now, I want no more
of this. You served me adequately, and you'll be paid. Nara-Lim can manage the fee, if you like." He rang a bell for the servants, knowing they would be slow.

  "It doesn't matter," the companion said blankly, looking away from the Undersecretary. "If you go, it doesn't matter."

  Why is it these animals take everything so personally? Navbe asked himself as the servants came along the terrace. "Here, you," he called to them. "These are to go to the landing place. Nothing is to be dropped or broken, do you understand?"

  The crates were loaded into the boxlike rolling platforms and dragged away from the Ambassador's house to the landing field.

  "Come along," Navbe said to his companion. "Walk out with me, why don't you?"

  Numbly the companion stood, and numbly it followed Navbe across Ambassador Lesh's estate.

  The squat craft waited, a mushroom ready to assault the sky. Around it Papi and Janif workers were loading and pampering the machine, readying it for the surge upward, away from the soft mists of Papill for the bright scraps of light that were stars.

  Ambassador Lesh was not there.

  A low status officer examined the directive Navbe held out to him and made him welcome with becoming deference, concealing his hands and moving his mouth as little as possible. This was much more to Navbe's liking.

  "I will board soon," he informed the officer and was pleased to see the officer rigid. As he turned back to his companion, he felt the first tuggings of civilization on him and found the sensation a warm delight.

  "Well, companion, here is what I've promised you," he said, handing the creature a voucher and the border from one of his sleeves. The companion took the sleeve and pressed it to its face. The voucher slid away on the wind, unheeded.

  "I forbid you to behave in this way," Navbe said to the companion as it looked at the ship with hopeless eyes. He found the manner attractive, even stimulating, but it was a feeling he could not afford now.

  "Don't go," whispered the companion. "Or take me with you. I will die without you."