by Jack Vance
Wayness asked Glawen: “Are we really sure that all of us want to ride these nightmarish animals?”
“Stay at the lodge, if you like,” said Glawen. “There’s nothing much to see at Lake Dimple, and nothing to do except look for magic stones.”
“I’ve always been considered at least as reckless as Milo. If he goes, I’ll go. Still, I’d prefer to ride something less intimidating.”
“For the usual run of tourists, the bunters are just right,” said Glawen. “They’d ride the devil himself to Lake Dimple if they were sure the pictures would turn out well.”
“A final point, and I think an important one,” said Wayness. “After I mount the beast and it starts running, how do I control it?”
“Simplicity itself,” said Glawen. “In front of each saddle you’ll notice a control board. Each is equipped with three levers, which work cables and electrical contacts to guide the bunter. To go forward, push the left lever forward, the pull it back to center. To increase speed, push the left lever forward again, as many times as you consider necessary. Ordinarily just once is enough; the bunters make no difficulty about running. To decrease speed, pull the same lever back, then return to center. To stop, hold the lever back. To stop fast, hold the lever back and drop the blinders. To turn left, swing the middle lever to the left. To turn right, swing the middle lever to the right. The third lever, on the right, controls the blinders. A warning light indicates that the blinders are raised. Never dismount without pushing the lever on the right forward, which lowers the blinders and turns off the light. The bunter will become passive and will not move; there is no need to tie him. To the extreme right is a box which houses the emergency radio, which I hope we won’t need. Finally, do not walk close in front of your bunter. The proboscis is tied down but the creature sometimes manages to spit at you anyway.”
“It seems simple enough,” said Wayness. “Push, pull, swing right, swing left, don’t get spit on. I suppose that one should also take care not to walk under the tail. Julian, do you understand all Glawen’s instructions?”
“Yes. I understand very well.”
“Appearances are often deceptive,” said Milo. “Still, these creatures look neither meek nor sated. Julian’s beast is stamping and blowing foam from its nose.” He indicated that bunter with the orange saddle. “I call that peevish behavior.”
Orreduc, the head groom, smiled placidly. “They are restless for their run. All have eaten their fill and destroyed a goodly puppet; they will carry you to Lake Dimple with the keenest pleasure for all.”
Julian stepped forward, past the restless orange-saddled bunter. “Let’s be off!” He went to the bunter with the green saddle. “This is a likely beast! I shall name it ‘Albers’ and ride it with aplomb, and all will marvel to see me dashing at great speed across the plain! Orreduc, help me aboard Albers.”
“One moment,” said Glawen. He opened the case and placed a gun in the holster to the side of each control board. Then he checked over each bunter in turn, inspecting saddles, saddle clamps, controls, control cables, blinders, radio, tail stiffeners and proboscis tie-downs. He said at last: “I can’t find anything wrong.”
Orreduc came forward. “Are you ready, then? For the lady here is the proper mount; she shall sit the blue saddle for her comfort. The bunter is of good condition; she will enjoy her ride with great zest. It is what we call a soft mount. I will help you to the saddle.”
“I am innocent nice little Wayness,” she muttered. “I can’t believe that this is happening to me.” Gingerly she climbed the bunter. “So far, so good.”
Orreduc turned to Milo. “Here is the bunter for you! The saddle is good luck. Shall I help you to mount?”
“I can manage, thank you.”
“Excellent! Well-done, sir!” To Julian: “You, sir, have taken a fancy to your Albers, and he shall be your mount. As for you, sir” – he addressed Glawen - “you shall ride secure in the saddle. This fine fellow will serve you well. He is a bit eager, and the froth means that he is happy and ready for his run. Pay it no heed.”
The grooms retreated into the stable. Glawen looked around at his companions. “Everyone ready? Raise your blinders. Now push the lever forward, then bring it back to center.”
The bunters moved away from the stables, at first slowly, then at a lunging gallop. The Plain of Moans extended before them, a dun-colored desolation. On the left hand the Mandala Mountains skirted the horizon, fading into the murk to north and south.
The bunters ran without effort. Glawen’s steed seemed particularly mettlesome, and he was forced to maintain a close restraint. All the bunters seemed to be running with unusual vigor; Glawen decided that over the recent months they had been insufficiently exercised.
An hour’s ride brought them to Lake Dimple: an expanse of water flat and drab, five miles long and two miles wide. The banks were low, muddy and stamped deep with footprints, where animals had come down to the water. An occasional smoketree or a skeleton oak stood stark and alone along the bank; in the shallows grew reeds, mustard yellow with black tassels. By some freakish circumstance a single tall dendron stood fifty yards back from the lake. To the side of the dendron a well-trodden area stained gray with the ashes of innumerable fires marked the site of the banjee camp.
Glawen led the others to a spot near the dendron. “There it is, and as you see, the banjees are off somewhere about their travels. The magic stones are found either in that thicket of cankerberry bush over there or on the bottom of the lake, fairly close to shore.
But don’t dismount without dropping the blinders.”
Wayness looked askance at the lake. “I’m just a bit squeamish in connection with mud.”
“In that case, search the thicket, but take care to avoid the thorns. Hold a stick in each hand to push the branches aside. The mud is more squeamish but less painful.”
“Perhaps I’ll just watch for a while.”
“Everybody check their blinders. The right-hand lever should be pushed forward and the cups should be definitely in place over the eyestalks. Milo?”
“Blinders down.”
“Julian?”
“They’re down, needless to say.”
“Wayness?”
“They’re down.”
“And mine are down.”
Without further ado Julian jumped to the ground, followed by Milo. Glawen remained in his saddle, perplexed by the conduct of his mount, which had not become quiet.
Julian walked in front of his bunter, Albers, who instantly emitted a terrible squeal and, bounding forward, kicked Julian. Glawen seized his gun; at the same time his own mount uttered a cry so shrill and piercing that it seemed to defeat the sense of hearing. It reared high on its back legs, throwing Glawen to the ground. Blowing great bubbles of froth from its proboscis the bunter hurled itself on Milo, kicking and stamping and pounding. Then it seized Milo and tossed him high into the air.
Glawen, dazed by the fall, twisted around and fired his gun, to blow away Albers’ head. His own mount, turning away from Milo, once again rose squealing on its hind legs, peering down at Glawen while flailing the air with its other legs in an odd dance of triumph and hatred. Kneeling and sick with horror, Glawen fired the gun, again and again. Explosive pellets mangled the bunter’s interior and blew away its head; for a moment it stood erect then toppled ponderously to the ground.
Wayness, crying and sobbing, was trying to jump down from the saddle, in order to run to Milo. Glawen yelled: “Don’t move! Stay where you are! You can’t help him.”
He cautiously advanced on the remaining two bunters, those ridden by Milo and Wayness. The blinders properly covered their eyes; they stood quivering with repressed passion, but, unable to see, could not move.
Glawen told Wayness; “Be ready with the gun, but don’t come down to the ground.”
Julian lay white-faced and moaning, his legs twisted away from his pelvis at strange angles. He gazed up at Glawen. “You did this to me! You arranged
it all!”
Glawen said: “Try to relax. I’ll get help as soon as I can.” He went to look down at Milo, who was clearly dead. Then he stumbled to Wayness’ bunter and called the lodge by the emergency radio.
* * *
Chapter V, Part 4
In his first hurried call to Bodwyn Wook Glawen had imparted only essential facts. Bodwyn Wook dispatched Ysel Laverty and a team of investigators to Mad Mountain Lodge, then returned a call to Glawen, who reported the circumstances at greater length.
“I have dozens of suspicions,” said Glawen. “I’m sure of nothing. Julian’s conduct is especially ambiguous. He went out to the stables and talked politics with Orreduc and his helpers. Julian admitted celebrating the virtues of himself and the LPF and no doubt identified the rest of us as flagrant Chartists and aristocrats, anxious to tyrannize the Yips, and send them off to the Great Spiral Nebula. I don’t see how he could have arranged the bunter attack, especially since he was first off his mount and the first to be hurt.”
“The plan might have gone wrong. But I am not clear as to his motive.”
“It’s not overwhelming. He disliked both Milo and me to the point of detestation. At this time he probably included Wayness in his circle of enemies; she had just broken off what he thought to be a definite understanding. Julian was in a black mood, no doubt as to that. A murderous mood? Probably not. But the event would not have occurred if Julian had not incited the Yips and set the wheels in motion.”
“You are inclined, then, to exculpate Julian.”
“l seesaw back and forth in my thinking. It seems absurd to believe that Julian plotted with Orreduc. On the other hand, when we went to the stables, Julian made a great point of selecting the bunter with the green saddle, whom he named Albers. I wondered at the time what was going on. Whatever the case, Albers proved faithless and savaged Julian without hesitation.
“Conceivably the plot might have called for Julian to jump down from Albers, then jump back aboard and ride off while rest of us were being trampled and tossed, and for a fact he took Albers some distance apart before he dismounted. If this were the plot, Orreduc swindled Julian. Why? I doubt if Orreduc will tell us. Perhaps to eliminate a possible accuser, if things went wrong. More likely because he cared not a fig for the LPF and here was chance to kill four bad woskers at a single swipe, including one who used big words and wore a white hat. I might note that Julian accused me of arranging his injury - a strange thing to say unless the idea was already in his mind.”
“Interesting but inconclusive,” said Bodwyn Wook. “What were you telling me in connection with the blinders?”
“They are proof, definite and final, that Orreduc premeditated the murder. The blinders were slit and the seams loosened. This morning they were carefully wedged in place over the eyes so that they seemed in good condition. But once raised and then lowered, they would flap wide open and the bunter would have a clear view ahead. If we all had alighted together and all of the blinders had failed, we would all have been killed. The bunters would have run away and the verdict would have been ‘an accident.’
“But two of the blinders, on the beasts ridden by Milo and Wayness, failed to unfold. I was able to shoot the other two and except for Milo, we’re alive today.
“Also, to make the scheme even nastier, I’m sure that the bunters were not properly prepared for riding, which incriminates the assistants as well. I think that the bunters were teased and infuriated, then blindered and brought out in a state of total rage.”
“I’ve sent up a pair of biologists,” said Bodwyn Wook. “They will give us a definite answer. Where is Orreduc now?”
“In the manager’s office, looking glum. After I called you, I went out to the stables and told Orreduc that there had been a serious accident. I brought him to the lodge, so that he and his assistants could not cook up a joint story, in case they had not done so already. I asked Orreduc if he owned a gun, and he said no. But I searched him and found that he was carrying a handgun. I asked why he had misinformed me; he said that the gun belonged to the stable and was not his personal property. The manager is now keeping an eye on him.”
“Perhaps Orreduc will reveal what part, if any, Julian played in the affair. Otherwise, conspiracy will be impossible to prove. Now then: I have been in touch with the Conservator and Dame Cora. The girl had already called them from the lodge. How is she bearing up?”
“She is sitting quietly, doing nothing. I think she feels she’s living a bad dream and wants to wake up.”
“The team should be arriving at any minute, and also transport for Julian and the body. The girl, I expect, will want to return as well. Captain Laverty will be in charge; give him what help he needs and then you can come home too.”
Glawen went to Wayness’ room and knocked. “It’s Glawen.”
“Come in.”
Wayness sat on the couch, looking out the window. Glawen went to sit beside her. He put his arms around her and hugged her close. At last Wayness began to cry. After a few moments Glawen said: “It wasn’t an accident. Orreduc had cut the leather of the blinders so that they fell open. He hoped that we’d all be killed.”
“Why should he do such a think? I can’t understand it.”
“He’ll be questioned. Perhaps he’ll explain. Julian might have told him that we were here to phase him and his helpers out of their jobs. Julian surely identified us as Chartists of full stripe.”
Wayness huddled close to him. “What an awful place this is!”
“There won’t be any more Yips and no more bunters,” said Glawen.
Wayness straightened up and combed her hair with her fingers. “It’s foolish to waste time in vain regrets, and yet –” Once again she started to cry. “Life without Milo will be so very different. If I really thought Julian were responsible, I’d – I don’t know what I’d do.”
Glawen said nothing. Presently Wayness asked: “What will happen to Orreduc?”
“I expect that justice will be quick and to the point.”
“And what of Julian?”
“Nothing can be proved against him, even if he were guilty, which he’s probably not.”
“I hope that I never see him again.”
The flyers from Araminta Station arrived. Glawen conferred with Captain Ysel Laverty, then flew the biologists to Lake Dimple, where they tested the blood of the dead bunters. “No question about it! Their blood is full of ‘ariactin’ and they were beside themselves with rage.”
Glawen and the biologists returned to the lodge. Julian, and Milo’s body, had been conveyed back to Araminta Station; Wayness had joined the dismal flight.
While Ysel Laverty questioned the understablemen, Orreduc waited in the manager’s office, showing increasing signs of uneasiness. The understablemen told varying stories. All insisted that the bunters had been teased and enraged to an intense pitch.
“And then what? Who threw out the puppets?”
Here the stories took different directions. Each groom disclaimed responsibility for this particular step; each declared that other duties had distracted him at that particular time. “Most odd,” said Ysel Laverty to the last of the three. “All of you teased the four bunters, then all of you went away and none of you seem to know who threw in the puppets.”
“It surely must have been done! That is part of the process! We are all highly careful workers.”
“I don’t find any used puppets in the trash bin. It’s quite empty.”
“That is astonishing! Who could have taken them away?”
“I can’t imagine,” said Ysel Laverty, and went to question Orreduc. He seated himself at the manager’s desk, and signaled to one of his sergeants, who brought in the defective blinders, then went to stand by the door.
Ysel Laverty placed the blinders carefully on the table, one so that the leather flaps overlapped and the other gaping wide.
Orreduc watched in fascinated silence.
Ysel Laverty leaned back and fixed Orreduc
with a long dispassionate scrutiny. At last, with a trembling half-smile Orreduc asked: “Why do you look on me with eyes that peer and stare? It is unusual when a person looks so long at another person, and the second person will always start to wonder.”
Ysel Laverty said: “I am waiting to hear what you have to say.”
“Come, sir! I am not paid to chat or to say things with different people. The manager will be angry if I am not hard at my work. It is important, if guests should want to ride.”
“The manager has given orders that you should answer my questions. Right now, that is your only duty. What do you think of these blinders?”
“Aha, my dear fellow! Look here and here; you will see that the blinders are broken! That is my opinion! These must now be fixed and fixed well. I will take them to the leather shop.”
“Come, Orreduc, be serious. You are a murderer. Do you care to answer my questions?”
Orreduc’s face fell. “Ask what you will. Your mind is like stone and I am already facing what may be a severe penalty.”
“Who prompted you to do this deed?”
Orreduc shook his head, and, smiling, looked off across the room. “I am not sure of your meaning.”
“What did Julian Bohost tell you last night?”
“It is hard to remember. I am frightened by your threats. If you were kind and said to me: ‘Ah, Orreduc, you are a good person. A mistake has been made; did you know that?’ And I would say: ‘No, of course not. It is too bad.’ Then you would say: ‘Please be more careful the next time these young folk go for their ride!’ I would say: ‘Of course! And now I remember everything, since my mind is free of fear and I am happy again.’”
