by Jack Vance
The practitioner signaled to Reith. “A simple case of possession. Notice: the evil flows from the fingers into the clay. Talk to him if you like. Be gentle but command, and he will answer you.” “Helsse,” said Reith, “describe your association with Adam Reith.”
In a clear voice Helsse spoke. “Adam Reith came to Settra. There had been rumor and speculation, but when he arrived, all was different. By strange chance he came to Blue Jade, my personal vantage, and there I saw him first. Dordolio came after and in his rage maligned Reith as one of the ‘cult’: a man who fancied himself from the far world Home. I spoke with Adam Reith but learned only confusion. To clarify by acquiescence, third of the Ten Techniques, I took him to the headquarters of the ‘cult’ and received contradictions. A courier new to Settra followed us. I could not dramatically divert, sixth of the Techniques. Adam Reith killed the courier and took a message of unknown importance; he would not allow me inspection; I could not comfortably insist. I referred him to a Lokhar, again ‘clarifying by acquiescence’: as it eventuated, the wrong technique. The Lokhar read far into the message. I ordered Reith assassinated. The attempt was bungled. Reith and his band fled south. I received instructions to accompany him and penetrate his motivations. We journeyed east to the Jinga River and downstream by boat. On an island—” Helsse gave a gasping cry and sank back, rigid and trembling.
The practitioner waved smoke into Helsse’s face and pinched his nose. “Return to the ‘calm’ state, and henceforth, when your nose is pinched, return; this shall be an absolute injunction. Now then, answer such questions as are put to you.”
Reith asked, “Why do you spy on Adam Reith?”
“I am obligated to do so; furthermore I enjoy such work.”
“Why are you obligated?”
“All Wankhmen must serve Destiny.”
“Oho. You are a Wankhman?”
“Yes.”
And Reith wondered how he could ever have thought otherwise. Tsutso and the Hoch Hars had not been deceived: “Had you been Yao, all would not have gone so well,” so had said Tsutso.
Reith glanced ruefully at his comrades, then turned back to Helsse. “Why do the Wankhmen keep spies in Cath?”
“They watch the turn of the ‘round’; they guard against a renascence of the ‘cult.’ ”
“Why?”
“It is a matter of stasis. Conditions now are optimum. Any change can only be for the worse.”
“You accompanied Adam Reith from Settra to an island in the swamps. What happened there?”
Helsse once more croaked and became catatonic. The practitioner tweaked his nose.
Reith asked, “How did you travel to Kabasas?”
Again Helsse became inert. Reith tweaked his nose. “Tell us why you cannot answer the questions?”
Helsse said nothing. He appeared to be conscious. The practitioner fanned smoke in his face; Reith tweaked his nose and, doing so, saw that Helsse’s eyes looked in separate directions. The practitioner rose to his feet, and began to put away his equipment. “That’s all. He’s dead.”
Reith stared from the practitioner to Helsse and back. “Because of the questioning?”
“The smoke permeates the head. Sometimes the subjects live: often, in fact. This one died swiftly; your questions ruptured his sensorium.”
The following evening was clear and windy with puffs of dust racing over the vacant dancing field. Through the dusk men in gray cloaks came to the rented cottage. Within, lamps were low and windows shrouded; conversations were conducted in quiet voices. Zarfo spread an old map out on the table, and pointed with a thick black finger. “We can travel to the coast and down, but this is all Niss country. We can fare east around the Sharf to Lake Falas: a long route. Or we can move south, through the Lost Counties, over the Infnets and down to Ao Hidis: the direct and logical route.”
Reith asked, “Sky-rafts aren’t available?”
Belje, the least enthusiastic of the adventurers, shook his head. “Conditions are no longer as they were when I was a youth. Then you might have selected among half a dozen. Now there are none. Sequins and sky-rafts are both hard to come by. So now, in pursuit of the one, we lack the use of the other.”
“How will we travel?”
“To Blalag we ride by power wagon, where perhaps we can hire some sort of conveyance as far as the Infnets. Thereafter, we must go afoot; the old roads south have been destroyed and forgotten.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FROM SMARGASH TO the old Lokhar capital, Blalag, was a three-day journey across a windy wasteland. At Blalag the adventurers took shelter at a dingy inn, where they were able to arrange transportation by motorcart to the mountain-settlement Derduk, far into the Infnets. The journey occupied the better part of two days under uncomfortable conditions. At Derduk the only accommodation was a ramshackle cabin which provoked grumbling among the Lokhars. But the owner, a garrulous old man, stewed a great cauldron of game and wild berries, and the peevishness subsided.
At Derduk the road south became a disused track. At dawn the now somewhat cheerless group of adventurers set forth on foot. All day they traveled through a land of rock pinnacles, fields of rubble and scree. At sundown with a chill wind sighing through the rocks they came upon a small black tam where they passed the night. The next day brought them to the brink of a vast chasm and another day was spent finding a route to the bottom. On the sandy floor beside the river Desidea, on its way east to Lake Falas, the group camped, to be disturbed for much of the night by uncanny hoots and near-human yells, echoing and reechoing through the rocks.
In the morning, rather than attempt the south face of the precipice, they followed the Desidea and presently found a cleft which brought them out upon a high savannah rolling off into the murk.
Two days the adventurers marched south, reaching the extreme ramparts of the Infnets by twilight of the second day, with a tremendous vista across the lands to the south. When night came a sparkle of far lights appeared. “Ao Hidis!” cried the Lokhars in mingled relief and apprehension.
Over the minuscule campfire that night there was much talk of Wankh and Wankhmen. The Lokhars were unanimous in their detestation of the Wankhmen: “Even the Dirdirmen, for all their erudition and preening, are never so jealous of their prerogatives,” declared jag Jaganig.
Anacho gave an airy laugh. “From the Dirdirman point of view Wankhmen are scarcely superior to any of the other subraces.”
“Give the rascals credit,” said Zarfo, “they understand the Wankh chimes. I myself am resourceful and perceptive; still, in twenty-five years, I learned only pidgin chords for ‘yes,’ ‘no; ‘stop,’ ‘go; ‘right; ‘wrong,’ ‘good,’ ‘bad.’ I must admit to their achievement.”
“Bah,” muttered Zorofim. “They are born to it; they hear chimes from the first instant of their lives; it is no great achievement.”
“One that they make the most of, however,” said Belje with something like envy in his voice. “Think; they work at nothing, they have no responsibilities, but to stand between the Wankh and the world of Tschai, and they live in refinement and ease.”
Reith spoke in a puzzled voice. “A man like Helsse now: he was a Wankhman who lived as a spy. What did he hope to achieve? What Wankh interests did he safeguard in Cath?”
“Wankh interests-none. But remember, the Wankhmen are opposed to change, since any alteration of circumstances can only be to their disadvantage. When a Lokhar begins to understand chimes he is sent away. In Cath-who knows what they fear?” And Zarfo warmed his hands at the campfire.
The night passed slowly. At dawn Reith looked toward Ao Hidis through his scanscope, but could see little for the mist.
Surly with tension and lack of sleep the group once more set off to the south, keeping to such cover as offered itself.
The city slowly became distinct; Reith located the dock where the Vargaz had discharged-how long ago it seemed! He traced the road which led through the market and north past the spacefield. From the
heights the city seemed placid, lifeless; the black towers of the Wankhmen brooded over the water. On the spacefield, plain to be seen, were five spaceships.
By noon the party reached the ridge above the city. With great care Reith studied the spacefield, now directly below, through his scanscope. To the left were the repair shops, and nearby a bulk-cargo vessel in a state of obvious disrepair, with scaffolds raised beside exposed machinery. Another ship, this the closest, at the back of the field, seemed to be an abandoned hulk. The condition of the other three vessels was not obvious, but the Lokhars declared them all operable. “It is a matter of routine,” said Zorofim. “When a ship is down for overhaul, it is moved close to the shops. The ships in transit dock yonder, in the ‘Load Zone.“ ‘
“It would seem then that three ships are potentially suitable for our purposes?”
The Lokhars would not go quite so far.
“Sometimes minor repairs are done in the ‘Load Zone,“ ‘ said Belje.
“Notice,” said Thadzei, “the repair cart by the access ramp. It carries components, cases, and they must come from one of the three ships in the ‘Load Zone.’ ”
These were two small cargo ships and a passenger vessel. The Lokhars favored the cargo ships, with which they felt familiar. In regard to the passenger vessel, which Reith considered the most suitable, the Lokhars were in disagreement, Zorofim and Thadzei declaring it to be a standard ship in a specialized hull; Jag Jaganig and Belje equally certain that this was either a new design or an elaborate modification, in either case certain to present difficulties.
All day the group studied the spacefield, watching the activity of the workshop and the traffic along the road. During the middle afternoon a black air-car drifted down to land beside the passenger vessel, which now obscured the view, but it appeared that there was a transfer between ship and air-car. Somewhat later Lokhar mechanics brought a case of energy tubes to the ship, which according to Zarfo was a sure signal that the ship was preparing for departure.
The sun sank toward the ocean. The men fell silent, studying the ships which, hardly more than a quarter-mile distant, seemed tantalizingly accessible. Still the question lingered: Which of the three ships in the “Load Zone” offered the maximum opportunity for a successful departure? The consensus favored one of the cargo ships, only Jag Jaganig preferring the passenger ship.
Reith’s nerves began to crawl. The next few hours would shape his future, and far too many variables lay beyond his control. Strange that the ships should be guarded so lightly! On the other hand who was apt to attempt the theft of a spaceship? Probably not in the last thousand years had such an act occurred, if ever.
Dusk fell over the landscape; the group began to descend the mountainside. Floodlights illuminated the ground beside the warehouses, the repair shop, the depot in back of the loading zone. The remainder of the field remained in greater or less darkness, the ships casting long shadows away from the lights.
The men scrambled the last few feet down to the base of the hill, crossed a path of dank marshland, and came to the edge of the field, and here they waited five minutes, watching and listening. The warehouses showed no activity; in the shops a few men still worked.
Reith, Zarfo and Thadzei went forth to reconnoiter. Crouching they ran to the abandoned hulk, where they stood in the shadows.
From the machine shop came the whine of machinery; from the depot a voice called something unintelligible. The three waited ten minutes. In the town at the back of the spacefield long skeins of light had come into being; across the harbor the Wankh towers showed a few glimmers of yellow.
The machine shop became quiet; the workers appeared to be leaving. Reith, Zarfo and Thadzei moved across the field keeping to the long shadows. They reached the first of the small cargo ships, where again they halted to look and listen: there were no sounds, no alarms. Zarfo and Thadzei went to the entry hatch, heaved it open and entered, while Reith with beating heart stood guard outside.
Ten interminable minutes passed. From within came furtive sounds and once or twice a glimmer of light, which aroused in Reith an intense nervousness.
Finally the two Lokhars returned. “No good,” grunted Zarfo. “No air, no energy. Let’s try the other.”
They stole quickly across the bands of light and shadow to the second cargo ship; as before Zarfo and Thadzei entered while Reith stood at the port. The Lokhars returned almost immediately. “Under repair,” Zarfo reported glumly. “This is where the component cases come from.”
They turned to look at the passenger vessel. “It’s not a standard design,” Zarfo grumbled. “Still, the instruments and layout may be familiar to us.”
“Let’s go aboard and look,” said Reith. But now a light flared across the field. Reith’s first thought was that they had been discovered. But the light played toward the passenger vessel. From the direction of the gate came a low easy-moving shape. The vehicle stopped beside the passenger vessel; a number of dark figures alighted-how many could not be ascertained in the glare. With a curiously abrupt and heavy motion, the figures entered the ship.
“Wankh,” muttered Zarfo. “They’re going aboard.”
“It would mean that the ship is ready for departure,” said Reith. “A chance we can’t afford to miss!”
Zarfo demurred. “It’s one thing to steal an empty ship, another coping with a half dozen Wankh, and Wankhmen as well.”
“How do you know Wankhmen are aboard?”
“Because of the lights. Wankh project pulses of radiation and observe the reflections.”
Behind them came a faint sound. Reith whirled to find Traz. “We became worried; you were gone so long.”
“Go back; bring everyone here. If we have opportunity, we’ll board the passenger ship. It’s the only one available.”
Traz vanished into the darkness. Five minutes later the entire group stood in the shadow of the cargo ship.
Half an hour went by. In the passenger ship shapes moved across the lights, performing activities beyond the comprehension of the nervous men. In husky whispers they debated possible courses of action. Should they try to storm the ship now? Almost certainly departure was in the offing. Such action was obviously reckless. The group decided to pursue a conservative course and return into the mountains to await a more propitious occasion. As they started back, a number of Wankh issued from the vessel and lurched to the vehicle, which almost immediately left the field. Within the ship lights still glowed. No further activity was evident.
“I’m going to give it a look,” said Reith. He ran across the field, followed by the others. They mounted the ramp, passed through an embarkation port into the ship’s main saloon, which was unoccupied. “Everybody to his station,” said Reith. “Let’s take it up!”
“If we can,” grumbled Zorofim.
Traz cried out a warning: turning, Reith saw that a single Wankh had entered the saloon, watching in nonplussed disapproval. It was a black creature somewhat larger than a man, with a heavy torso, a squat head from which two black lenses flickered at half-second intervals. The legs were short; the feet were played webs; it carried no weapons or implements; in fact wore no garment or harness of any sort. From a sound organ at the base of the skull came four reverberating chimes, which, considering the circumstances, seemed measured and unexcited. Reith stepped forward, pointed to a settee, to indicate that it should sit down. The Wankh stood motionless, looking after the Lokhars who had gone their various ways, checking engines, energy, supplies, oxygen. The Wankh at last seemed to understand the events which were taking place. It took a step toward the exit port, but Reith barred the way and once again pointed to the settee. The Wankh loomed in front of him, the glassy eyes flickering. Once again the chimes sounded, more peremptory than before.
Zarfo returned to the saloon. “The ship is in order. But it’s an unfamiliar model, as I feared.”
“Can we take it up?”
“We’ll have to make sure we know what we are doing. It m
ay be minutes or hours.”
“Then we can’t let the Wankh go.”
“Awkward,” said Zarfo.
The Wankh thrust forward; Reith pushed it back and displayed his handgun. The Wankh uttered a loud chime. Zarfo made a chirping sound. The Wankh drew back.
Reith asked: “What did you say?”
“I just gave the pidgin sound for ‘danger.’ It seems to understand well enough.”
“I wish it would sit down; it makes me nervous standing there.”
“Wankh almost never sit,” said Zarfo and went to seal the entrance port.
Time passed. From various locations about the ship came calls and exclamations from the Lokhars. At Reith’s direction, Traz stood in the observation dome, watching over the field. The Wankh stood stolidly, apparently at a loss for action.
The ship shuddered; the lights flickered, went dim, came on bright once more. Zarfo looked into the saloon. “We’ve got the engines pumping. Now if Thadzei can figure out the control configurations—”
Traz called down: “The car is coming back. The floodlight has just gone on, to light the field.”
Thadzei ran through the saloon, jumped up to the control console. He peered this way and that, while Zarfo stood by his side urging him to haste. Reith set Anacho to guarding the Wankh, Joined Traz in the observation dome. The car was slowing to a stop beside the ship.
Zarfo pointed here and there across the control panel; Thadzei nodded doubtfully, thrust at a set of pressure pads. The ship shuddered and heaved; Reith felt acceleration underfoot. He was departing Tschai! Thadzei made adjustments; the ship pitched. Reith reached for a stanchion; the Wankh stumbled and fell upon the settee, where it remained. From elsewhere about the ship came full-throated Lokhar curses.
Reith made his way to the bridge, to stand beside Thadzei, who desperately worked the controls, testing first one pad, then another. Reith asked: “Is there an automatic pilot?”
