by Jack Vance
Madame Zigonie selected a fine restaurant where they were served an excellent lunch. During the meal she encouraged Chilke to talk of his early years on the Big Prairie and the general facts of his family background. Presently the focus of the conversation shifted and touched upon a number of various subjects. As if on sudden impulse, Madame Zigonie revealed to Chilke that she was conscious within herself of strong clairvoyant powers which she ignored only at grave risk to herself and her fortunes. “Perhaps you have wondered at my manifest interest in you,” she told Chilke. “The fact is that I must hire an overseer for my ranch, and this mysterious inner voice insisted that you were the right and proper person for the position.”
“Interesting!” said Chilke. “I’m an old farm boy, no question as to that. I hope that your inner voice recommends a high salary.”
“Adequately high,” said Madame Zigonie. “Shadow Valley Ranch comprises twenty-two thousand square miles with a hundred or more employees. It is a responsible post. I can offer a salary of ten thousand sols per year, along with travel and living expenses.”
“Hm,” said Chilke. “It sounds like an important job. The proper salary would seem to be twenty thousand sols: less than a sol per square mile, which I consider a bargain.”
Madame Zigonie said decisively: “The salary is not reckoned on that basis, since not every square mile needs careful supervision. Ten thousand sols is quite adequate. You will reside in a private bungalow, with ample room for all your belongings. It is important to be surrounded by one’s little treasures; don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.”
“You will find conditions quite congenial,” said Madame Zigonie. “I shall see to it personally.”
Chilke spoke with great earnestness: “I want to reassure you in regard to a rather delicate matter. Never fear that I might become overfamiliar! Never, never, never!”
“You are remarkably emphatic!” said Madame Zigonie coldly. “The possibility had never occurred to me.”
“It is wise to be clear on these things, if only for your peace of mind. You need expect nothing from me except dignified and formal conduct. The fact is, I am sworn to celibacy and I am already married, to boot. Also, if the truth be known, I am somewhat underpowered, shall we say, which makes me nervous and flighty when ladies get too friendly. Hence you may rest easy in this regard.”
Madame Zigonie gave her head a toss which almost dislodged her tall black hat. She noticed Chilke staring at her forehead, and quickly rearranged the russet curls which fringed her face. “That is only a birthmark you see; pay it no heed.”
“Just so. It is rather like a tattoo.”
“No matter.” Madame Zigonie carefully adjusted her hat. “I take it that you will accept the post?”
“Regarding the salary, fifteen thousand sols would seem a nice compromise.”
“It would also seem an inordinate sum for a person of your inexperience.”
“Oh?” Chilke raised his eyebrows. “What does your clairvoyant power tell you in this regard?”
“It inclines to the same opinion.”
“In that case, let us abandon the entire idea.” Chilke rose to his feet. “I thank you for the lunch and for an interesting conversation. Now, if you will excuse me –”
“Not so fast,” snapped Madame Zigonie. “Perhaps something can be arranged. Where are your belongings?”
“They’re more or less the clothes on my back and a change of underwear,” said Chilke. “I tend to travel light, in case I want to make a hasty move somewhere.”
“Still, you must have the goods you inherited from your grandfather. We shall ship everything to Rosalia and you will feel comfortably at home.”
“Not necessarily,” said Chilke. “There’s a stuffed moose in the barn, but I don’t want it in the front room of my bungalow.”
“I’m interested in such things,” said Madame Zigonie. “Perhaps we should go to Big Prairie and make an inventory, or I could go by myself.”
“The family wouldn’t like it,” said Chilke.
“Still, we must do our best to bring you your things.”
“It’s not all that necessary.”
“We shall see.”
In due course Chilke arrived at Rosalia, a rough-and-ready little world at the back of the Pegasus Rectangle. Lipwillow on the banks of the Big Muddy River was the principal town and spaceport. Chilke spent a night at the Big Muddy Hotel and in the morning was conveyed to Shadow Valley Ranch. Madame Zigonie housed him in a small bungalow under a pair of blue-pepper trees, and put him in charge of a hundred indentured workers of an unfamiliar race: handsome golden-skinned young men known as Yips.
“The Yips were a source of total frustration; I could never entice them to work. I tried to be nice and I tried to be cruel. I begged, I threatened, I reasoned, I intimidated. They just smiled at me. They were quite willing to talk about work, but they always had some more or less sane reason why a certain job could not or should not be done.
“Madame Zigonie watched for a while, laughing to herself. Finally she explained how to handle the Yips. ‘They are sociable creatures, and detest solitude. Take one of them to a job, tell him that’s where he stays, alone, until the job is done. He’ll howl and cry, and explain that he needs help, but the more he complains, the faster he’ll work, and if it isn’t done right, he must stay and do it all over. You’ll find that they’ll work briskly enough once they get the idea.’
“I don’t know why she waited so long to tell me. She was an odd one, no question as to that. She was not often in residence at the ranch. Every time she showed up I asked for my salary, and she said: ‘Yes, of course; it slipped my mind. I’ll see to it directly.’ But the next thing I knew she was gone again and I was still penniless. Finally I was reduced to gambling with the Yips and taking what little money they had. When I think back and remember their sad faces I feel just a bit ashamed.
“On one occasion Madame Zigonie was gone several months. She came back in a tense mood. I had lunch with her at the big house and out of a blue sky she said that after careful thought she had decided to marry me. We were to join our lives, mingle our hopes and dreams, share our possessions and live in connubial bliss. I sat stunned, with my mouth hanging open. I have mentioned my first impression of Madam Zigonie at Seven Cities. She had not become more appealing in the meantime. She was still tall and portly; her face was round with round cheeks, and her skin was still the color of lard.
“I said in a polite way that the idea did not fit in with my plans, but, just out of curiosity, what was the sum total of her wealth, and would it be signed over to me at once, or only upon her demise?
“At this she became a bit haughty and asked what I proposed to contribute to the union. I frankly admitted that I had nothing but a barnful of purple bric-a-brac and a hundred stuffed animals. She didn’t like it, but said it would have to do. I said no, not really. It wasn’t fair to her; what with all my peculiar hang-ups in regard to ladies; also we mustn’t forget that I was already married to a lady in Winnipeg, which made another marriage not only redundant but also unthinkable to a man of honor. Madame Zigonie became angry and discharged me on the instant, without paying my salary.
“I made my way into town and went to Poolie’s Place, at the end of a pier reaching fifty yards out into Big Muddy. I sat down with a cold lager and tried to decide what to do. Who should I meet there but Namour, fresh from delivering a gang of indentured Yips to one of the outback ranches. This was a private side enterprise to his regular work, so he told me. I asked how he was able to recruit the Yips; he said it was no problem and actually a fine opportunity for any who showed diligence, since, after working out their indenture, the Yips could take up land and become ranchers themselves. I told him that in my opinion the Yips were next to worthless as workers. He just laughed and told me I didn’t know how to handle them. He used the telephone, then notified me that he had spoken to Madame Zigonie, who said I could have my old job back if I wanted i
t. Namour thought it was a good idea, and that I’d been far too hasty in leaving for town. I told him: ‘You marry that lady, so she’s comfortably taken care of, then come talk to me.’ He said: ‘Not bloody likely,’ but there was another possibility: how would I like managing the airport at Araminta Station? I said: ‘Yes indeed, I surely would.’ He said he could guarantee nothing, but the position was open and he thought he could push the job my way. ‘But don’t forget,’ he said, ‘first and foremost I’m a businessman and I’ll take something in return.’ I told him he could have his choice of a purple vase with two handles or a stuffed mink eating a stuffed mouse. Namour finally said he’d help me with the job anyway, and if he ever got to Earth he might go pick out something he liked. I said that could be arranged, if a few loose ends were tied up, such as my getting the job. He said not to worry; the details would sort themselves out.”
Upon Chilke’s arrival at Araminta Station, Namour introduced him to the Bureau D authorities, who put Chilke through an intensive grilling. Chilke declared himself supremely qualified for the position, and in the end no one could prove otherwise and he was hired on a probationary basis.
It soon became evident that, if anything, Chilke had understated his capabilities and the appointment was made permanent.
Chilke at once instituted a general shake-up which in due course ran him afoul of Namour. At issue were the Yips assigned to the airport staff, where they performed such tasks as keeping the field in order, washing and cleaning the aircraft, checking spare parts in and out of the warehouse, and a few simple tasks of routine maintenance, or even mechanical work, under Chilke’s supervision.
Up to this time Chilke had not yet been assigned an assistant manager. To lighten his own work load, he trained his four Yips with care, and finally brought them to a level where they actually seemed interested in what they were doing. Nevertheless, at the end of their six-month stint, Namour sent them back to Yipton and assigned Chilke four fresh Yips.
Chilke protested with fervor: “What the bloody hell is going on? Do you think I’m running a ruddy educational institution here? Not on your life!”
Namour said coldly: “These people are here on six-month permits. That is the rule. I did not make this rule, but I am required to enforce it.”
“And sometimes you do,” said Chilke. “Sometimes you are busy elsewhere. At the hospital Yip orderlies get new cards every six months and nothing is said; also in the tailor shop and much of the domestic help. I’m not complaining; it only makes sense. Why train these geezers if you intend to send them back to Yipton? There’s no flyers at Yipton, so far as I know. If you want trained Yips for Yipton, you train them yourself.”
“You’re talking nonsense, Chilke!”
With amiable pertinacity Chilke continued. “If I can’t keep the ones I have now, don’t send any at all. I’ll bring in my own help.”
Namour drew himself up to his full height. Slowly turning his head, he brought a glacial stare to bear on Chilke. He said: “Listen well, Chilke, so that there will be no misunderstanding. Your orders come from me and you will do exactly as you are told. Otherwise, two roads lead into the future. The first is uneventful: you resign with your health and leave Araminta Station by the first ship.”
Chilke’s ropy grin grew even broader. He put his hand upon Namour’s face and pushed with great force, to send Namour reeling back against the wall. Chilke said: “That kind of talk makes me nervous. If we’re going to stay friends, you’ll beg my pardon with full sincerity and leave, smiling and closing the door quietly on your way out. Otherwise I’m going to tousle you around a bit.”
Namour, a Clattuc and no coward, was nonetheless a trifle daunted. At last he said: “Come on, then; we’ll see who gets tousled.”
The two men were much of a weight. Namour, with a good physique, stood taller by two inches. Chilke was more compact, burly at the chest and shoulders, with long arms and heavy fists. As the Yips and some boys from the lyceum watched, the two fought an epic battle, and in the end Chilke stood grinning his twisted grin down at Namour, half propped against the wall.
“Now then,” said Chilke. “Let’s face the facts. Why you brought me here I don’t know. You weren’t concerned for my welfare, and I don’t think you’re avid for the stuffed owl I owe you.”
Namour started to speak, then checked himself and painfully rubbed the side of his face.
Chilke went on. “Whatever the reason, I’m here. So long as I stay and keep your scheme going, I’m paying you all I owe you. Otherwise, and except for the owl, we’re even. You keep to your line of work and I’ll keep to mine. Now back to the help. I’ll take your six-month Yips, if you insist! But I’ll use them for dog work only and fill out with my own staff, which is the way I want it anyway.”
Namour pulled himself to his feet. “For your information, the Conservator won’t allow any more Yip extensions. If you don’t like it, go down to Riverview House and tousle him around like you did me.”
Chilke laughed. “I may be wild but I’m not reckless. I’ll have to puzzle this one out.”
Namour departed without further words. Relations thereafter between the two were polite but not overly cordial. Namour gave no more orders to Chilke, while Chilke made no further complaints in regard to the six-month Yips. Bureau D allowed him the services of Porric co-Diffin, to be trained as assistant manager, while the Yips were employed only at “dog work.”
* * *
Chapter I, Part 5
With the onset of autumn anticipation of the wine festival, Parilia, with its banquets, masques and revels began to color the thoughts of everyone. At Parilia almost any kind of eccentric behavior was not only condoned but encouraged, so long as a costume purported to conceal identities. Araminta Hotel had long been booked and overbooked, so that, during the week of Parilia, all manner of desperate expedients would become necessary. In the end, no one would suffer disappointment; if necessary, the six great houses would throw open their guest chambers and feed the visitors in the formal dining halls, and no one so lodged had ever been known to complain.
Glawen had undertaken no special role at Parilia. He lacked proficiency with musical instruments, and the antics of Floreste’s Mummers interested him not at all. His studies at the lyceum had given him no difficulty, even though he had continued flight training, and at the end of the first quarter-term he was awarded a Certificate of Excellence. Arles received an Urgent Notice of Unsatisfactory Achievement.
Glawen’s methods were disarmingly simple: he did his work methodically, promptly and thoroughly. Arles used a different philosophy. From the beginning his work was meager, late and incomplete. He was nevertheless confident that through clever manipulation, bluff and sheer élan he could avoid tedious drudgery and drill and yet promote good grades for himself.
Upon receiving the Urgent Notice, Arles was both impatient and exasperated. In a single decisive gesture he crumpled the message and flung it aside; such was his opinion of all pedagogues! Why did they bother him with such priggish little messages? What did they hope to achieve? The notice told him nothing he wanted to hear; the pedants lacked all largeness of perception! Surely it was obvious that he could not cram his large and sweeping talents into the petty little pigeonholes which they had designated, and which were all they knew! Ah well, he must ignore, or by some means slide around, all this pettifoggery. One way or another things would sort themselves out and he would be graduated into full Agency. Any other possibility was unthinkable! If worse came to worst, he might even be forced to study! Or his mother, Spanchetta, would set matters right with a few well-chosen words, although involving Spanchetta was a risky business. Far better, if at all possible, to let sleeping dogs lie.
At the end of Arles’ second term - this would be at the beginning of summer, before Glawen’s sixteenth birthday – Arles had failed promotion into the third-year class. It was a serious situation which Arles could remedy only by attending summer school and passing an examination. Unfortuna
tely, Arles had made other plans involving Master Floreste and the Mummers, which he did not wish to alter.
The Honorable Sonorius Offaw, superintendent of the lyceum, called Arles to his office and made the situation clear: if Arles failed to meet the lyceum’s minimum requirements before his twenty-first birthday, his Agency status would be canceled and he would become a collateral without option, which meant that under no circumstances could he regain Agency status, unlike collaterals who had met the educational qualifications.
Once or twice Arles tried to interrupt, in order to express his own views, but the superintendent made Arles listen to the very end, so that Arles became more annoyed and edgy than ever.
At last Arles said: “Sir, I understand that my grades should be better, but, as I tried to explain, I was ill during both of the midterm examinations, and did poorly. The instructors in each case refused to make allowances.”
“Rightly so. The examinations measure your scholastic achievements, not the state of your health.” He looked at Arles’ card. “I see you have opted into Bureau D.”
“I intend to be an oenologist,” said Arles sullenly.
“In that case, I advise that you attend summer school and make up your failed work; otherwise you will be cultivating your grapes in very far vineyards.”
Arles scowled. “I’m already committed to Master Floreste for the summer. I am a member of the Mummers Troupe, as you probably know.”
“That is irrelevant. I can hardly express myself more succinctly but I will try. Either do your schoolwork or fail to graduate.”
Arles cried out in pain: “But we will be making an off-world tour to Soum and Dauncy’s world, which I don’t want to miss!”
Sonorius Offaw rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. You may go. I will communicate with your parents and inform them of your problem.”
