Ecce and Old Earth tcc-2

by Jack Vance

  ” ‘What else?’ “

  “That's hard to say, since the barn has been so thoroughly burgled that I almost feel ashamed offering the stuff to you.”

  “ ‘Let us have no more delay. Sign the papers, and be quick about it.' “

  “I signed the three documents. The voice then said: 'Eustace Chilke, you have saved your life, which henceforth shall be spent repenting your fleering and cavalier attitudes, and your disregard for the sensitivities of those who might have wished to befriend you.' “

  “I decided that Madame Zigonie was referring to my stand-offish conduct at Shadow Valley Ranch. I told her I didn’t mind apologizing if it would do any good, but she said that it was too late for that, and what must be, must be. I was taken out and dropped into the doghole, where I instantly got busy repenting. I assure you I was glad to hear your voice."

  Glawen asked: "You have no idea what she is looking for?”

  “It must be that some of Grandpa Swaner's belongings have more value than I supposed. I wish he had let me know while he was still alive.”

  “Someone must know something. Who could it be?"

  “Hmf. Hard to say. He dealt with lots of strange people — junk dealers, thieves, antiquarians, book dealers. I remember one chap in particular, who was Grandpa's friend, colleague, rival and accomplice, all at the same time. I think they were both members of the Naturalist Society. He traded Grandpa a set of exotic bird feathers and three Pandango soul masks for a parcel of old books and papers. If anyone knew Grandpa s affairs inside-out, it would be this chap.”

  “Where is he now?"

  “I couldn't say. He got into trouble over some illicit tomb-robbing and fled off-planet to evade the authorities."

  Glawen, chancing to look over his shoulder, saw the pale glimmer of Kathcar's face, much closer than he had realized. It was evident that Kathcar had been listening to the conversion.

  The rain returned in another drumming downpour, and persisted until a hint of wet gray light indicated the coming of dawn.

  Light seeped into the sky, and the length and breadth of the prison strip became visible. The four men departed the tree hut and started downhill through the dripping jungle. Glawen went first, followed by Chilke, both with guns at the ready. Presently they arrived at the gully, to find it hip deep in running water, which could not be waded because of the presence of water-snappers. Glawen selected a tall tree, sheared its trunk with energy from his gun and dropped it across the gully to create a slippery bridge.

  The men found the crawler as Glawen had left it; they clambered aboard and headed down the slope slowly to avoid sliding out of control. Almost at once they were attacked by a splay-legged creature twenty feet long, with eight clashing mandibles and tail curled forward that it might project a noxious fluid at its prey. Chilke killed it even as it aimed its tail, and the creature fell to the slide, mandibles gnashing and the tall waving back and forth, discharging a dark fluid into the air.

  A few moments later Glawen halted the crawler, the better to select a route and in the silence an ominous sound could be heard through the underbrush. Scharde gave a croak of alarm; Glawen looked up to see a triangular head six feet across, split into a gaping fanged maw, descending through the foliage at the end of a long arching neck. Glawen fired his gun by reflex, destroying the head. A moment later something bulky toppled and crashed into the jungle.

  As best he could Glawen guided the crawler downhill the way he had come. The slope at last began to flatten and the jungle foliage became thin. The vehicle began to splash through water where the river had overflowed the slime. A tribe of mud-walkers watched from across the swamp, hooting and screaming. The water deepened; the crawler began to lose contact with the slime and float on the swirling water.

  Glawen halted the crawler. He turned to his three companions and pointed to a clump of vegetation. “This is where I left, the flyer, tied to a tree in that clump yonder. The tree must have broken away last night in the storm and carried the flyer away.”

  “That is bad news,” said Chilke. He looked eastward along the face of the swollen river. “I see lots of snags and dead trees, but no flyer.”

  Kathcar gave a hollow groan. “We were better off at the prison.”

  "You, perhaps, were better off,“ said Glawen. “Go on back if you like.”

  Kathcar said no more.

  Chilke spoke ruminatively: “With a few tools and a few materials I could contrive a radio. But there are neither on the crawler."

  “It is disaster!” lamented Kathcar. “Sheer disaster!”

  “Not just yet," said Scharde.

  “How can you say differently?”

  “I notice that the current moves about three miles an hour, no more. If the tree fell in the middle of the night — let us say, six hours ago — it will have drifted eighteen miles or less. The crawler can move five or six miles an hour on the water. So if we set off now, we should overtake the tree and the attached flyer in three or four hours.”

  Without further words Glawen started up the crawler and set off downstream.

  The crawler floated across a wilderness of water, through a swelter of heat and glare reflected from the surface, humidity which seemed to stifle the breath and make every movement an effort of monumental proportion. As Syrene rose, the heat and glare became actively painful. Glawen and Chilke rigged an awning using branches and foliage salvaged from the stream, after first shaking away the insects and small serpents watch might be clinging to the leaves. The awning provided a large measure of relief. From time to time great heads or ocular process rose from the water with evident latent to attack; constant vigilance was necessary to avoid sudden overwhelming disaster.

  For three hours the crawler churned down the river, passing by dozens of snags, dead trees, rafts of detritus, floating reed tussocks. Despite earnest and anxious search, the Skyrie failed to show itself. Kathcar at last asked: “And what if we go another two hours and still don't find the flyer?”

  “Then we start thinking very carefully,“ said Chilke.

  "I have already been thinking carefully,“ said Kathcar sourly. I do not believe thinking is helpful in this case."

  The river widened; Glawen steered a course keeping the left shore always within range of vision, with the main sweep of the river to the right.

  Another hour passed. Ahead appeared a spot of white: the Skyrie. Glawen heaved a great sigh and sank down on the bench, feeling an extraordinary emotion mixed of lassitude, euphoria and an almost tearful gratitude for the favorable workings of Destiny. Scharde put his arm around Glawen’s shoulders. “I cannot find words for what is in my mind."

  "Don't be too grateful too fast," said Chilke. “It looks like we have pirates aboard the craft.”

  “Mud-walkers!" said Glawen.

  The crawler approached the flyer. The tree to which it had been moored apparently had been caught in an eddy and swung into a bank of muck, where it lodged. A tribe of mud-walkers, fascinated by the curious floating object, had run across mud and water and climbed through tangles of debris to approach the craft. At the moment they were prodding at the bag of animal segments Glawen had left on deck, and pushed it into the river.

  A vagrant breeze wafted the odor to the crawler, prompting an exclamation from Chilke. “What in the world is that?"

  “The odor is from a bag of bad-smelling animal pieces,” said Glawen, "which I left on the deck to keep mud-walkers off.” He went to the front of the crawler and waved his arms. “Go away! Get off! Go!”

  In response the mud-walkers screamed in fury and threw mud-balls at the crawler. Glawen aimed his gun at the tree and blasted away a great branch. With startled outcries the mud-walkers ran off across the mud, spindly legs pumping furiously, knees held high. At a safe distance they halted and attempted another barrage of mud-balls, without success.

  The four men climbed aboard the flyer. Glawen threw buckets of water down the deck hoping to allay the lingering stink of the sacked animal part
s and to wash overbroad the litter left by the mud-walkers. The crawler was hauled aboard and made secure. “Goodbye, Vertes River," said Glawen. “I have had all I want of you. He went to the controls, took the flyer aloft and flew down river at a low altitude.

  At dusk the four dined on the provisions Glawen had stowed aboard. The river broadened and spilled into the ocean. Lorca and Sing disappeared and the Skyrie flew across the Western Ocean through the starlight.

  Glawen spoke to Kathcar “I am still not clear in my mind as to why you were brought to Shattorak. You must have done something to annoy Smonny, since Titus Pompo himself apparently counts for little.”

  Kathcar said coldly: “The matter is over and done with, and I do not wish to go into it any further.”

  “Nevertheless, we are all interested, and there is ample time for you to go into full detail.”

  “That may be,” said Kathcar. "Still, the affair is personal and private.”

  Scharde said gently: “Under the circumstances, I don’t think you can expect to keep affairs of this sort private. It is much too close to all of us, and we are justifiably interested in what you can tell us."

  Chilke said: “I must point out to you that both Scharde and Glawen are Bureau B personnel, and their questions have an official tinged to them. As for me, I want to find out how best to make Smonny pay, and also Namour and Benjamie and anyone else who thought that I might not resent being dropped into a doghole.”

  “I resent it as well," said Scharde. “I am working to keep my rage under control.”

  "Everything considered," said Glawen, “you had better explain to us what we want to know.”

  Kathcar was mulishly silent. Glawen prompted him. "You are a member of the LPF faction at Stroma. How did you become acquainted with Smonny Clattuc, or Madame Zigonie — or whatever else she may call herself?”

  "It is nothing to marvel at,” said Kathcar with great dignity. "The LPF is concerned with conditions at Yipton, and wishes to bring Cadwal into modern times, and out of the sleep of centuries."

  "So. You traveled to Yipton?"

  "Naturally. I wished to observe the factual state of conditions."

  "You went alone?"

  Kathcar again became testy. "What possible difference does it make with whom I went?"

  "Identify these persons, and allow us to be the judge.”

  "I went with a deputation from Stroma."

  "Who was in the deputation?"

  “Several members of the LPF”.

  "Was Dame Clytie one of them?"

  Kathcar was silent a long ten seconds. Then he made a furious gesture of frustration" "If you must know, yes!" “And Julian?"

  "Naturally," said Kathcar with a sniff. “Julian is energetic and insistent. I have even heard him described as a bit bumptious, though perhaps I should not characterize him in this fashion."

  "We are discreet, and will not report your condemnation to Julian," said Scharde with a grin. “So what happened at Yipton?"

  "You must understand that, while the LPF uniformly and unanimously agrees on the need for progressivism, there are several concepts as to which direction the changes must go. Dame Clytie speaks for one of these philosophies and I represent another, and our conferences are not always harmonious.”

  Glawen asked: "How do your views differ?"

  "It is mainly a matter of emphasis. I favor a carefully structured leadership organization for the new Cadwal and I have designed the system in careful detail. Dame Clytie, I fear, is a bit impractical and imagines a new society of happy peasants, singling at their toil, dancing and playing tambourines up and down the village commons every night. Everyone will be story-teller or musician; everyone will take joy in producing beautiful artifacts. How is the new community to be governed? Dame Clytie endorses a concept where everyone, young and old, male and female, dolt and sage, all alike are supposed to debate issues at conclaves, then agree by glad hurrahs and vocal acclamations. In short, Dame Clytie opts for a democracy in its purest, most basic and amorphous form.” Glawen asked: “And the native beasts? What happens to them?”

  Kathcar spoke airily. “The wild animals? Dame Clytie is not over-interested in the problem. They must learn to live with the new order. Only the truly nasty and repellent creatures will be driven away or exterminated.”

  “And your views are different?"

  “Very much so. I call for a structured centrality, with authority to formulate policy and establish regulations."

  “So then, you and Dame Clytie composed your differences and went together to Yipton?"

  Kathcar draw back his lips in a sardonic grimace, half-smile, half-sneer. “The junket to Yipton was not my idea. I don’t know for certain where the idea originated, but I suspect that Julian, who is always in favor of intrigue, the more devious the better, evolved the notion. I know that he consulted a certain Namour during one of his visits to Araminta Station, and then possibly broached the idea to Dame Clytie. Whatever the case, the plans were made. When I learned how the wind was blowing, I insisted upon joining the deputation, to ensure that my point of view be made known.”

  “We flew to Yipton. I knew nothing of Simonetta or her status; I thought that we would be conferring with Titus Promo, and so I was astounded when we went into conference with Simonetta. Neither Julian nor Dame Clytie showed the same surprise, and I am sure that Namour briefed them in advance as to what to expect. I was naturally offended by what I considered a breach of diplomatic courtesy, and I resolved to make my displeasure clear at the first opportunity.”

  “In any event, Namour took us into an office with a floor of woven bamboo mat, walls of split bamboo, and a ceiling of intricately carved wood, evidently smuggled in from the mainland. We waited fifteen minutes before Simonetta chose to show herself — a delinquency which irritated Dame Clytie, so I could see.”

  “Simonetta at last condescended to appear, and I was amazed, as I have already indicated. Instead of the earnest, just and dignified Titus Pompo of my expectations, here was a woman as massive and strong as Dame Clytie herself. Simonetta, I must say, is a strange looking woman. She wears her hair in a massive pile atop her head, like a coil of old rope. Her skin is like white wax. Her eyes glitter like amber beads. There is a sense of wildness and unpredictability about her that is most disturbing. She is clearly a woman of a hundred passions, which she disciplines as much as needful, but no more. Her voice is somewhat harsh and peremptory, but she can pitch it almost to a musical softness when she chooses. She seems to be guided by an instinctive or subconscious shrewdness, rather than formal intelligence; like that of Dame Clytie. On this occasion neither woman wasted any affability on the other, and there was only a cursory attempt at simple and ordinary courtesy. But no matter: we had not come to Yipton for the exchange of pleasantries but, rather, to discover how best to coordinate our efforts toward the common goal.”

  “I regarded myself as the senior member of the delegation, and started to speak, that I might express the philosophy of the LPE as I saw it, in an orderly, coherent and definite manner, so that Simonetta should be under no illusions as to our basic point of view. Dame Clytie, however, conducted herself with absolutely vulgar and unforgivable rudeness, interrupting my remarks and shouting me down when I remonstrated and pointed out that I spoke with the authoritative voice of the LPF. Dame Clytie, using her most bluff and boisterous manner, pretended to regard Simonetta as a comrade-in-arms, and a stout paladin in the cause of virtue and truth. Once again I tried to bring the discussion back to its proper channels, but Simonetta instructed me to hold my tongue, which I considered absolutely egregious and insulting conduct. Dame Clytie, rather than taking note of the insult, made offensive remarks of her own, something like: 'Excellent! If Kathcar will stop his braying for a few moments, we will get on with our business.’ Something on that order.”

  “In any event Dame Clytie began to speak. Simonetta listened for a few moments, then once more became impatient. She said: 'I will be quite candi
d! I have been done grievous wrongs by the folk of Araminta Station, and the whole thrust of my life is retribution. I intend to sweep down on Deucas like an angel of wrath, and I shall be Mistress of Araminta Station. My revenge will be so sweet as to transcend all other pleasures I have known! AII shall know the sting of my fury!' “

  Dame Clytie found it necessary to chide her, though she tried to be judicious. ‘This is not quite the emphasis or the thrust of the LPF. We intend to break the tyranny of the Charter, and allow the human spilt scope to flourish and grow!' “

  '’ ‘So it may be,' said Simonetta. 'Still, eventually the Charter will be replaced by the Monomantic Credence, which will guide the future of Cadwal.' “

  “Dame Clytie said: 'I know nothing about this Credence, and I would deplore the introduction of some freakish cult.' “

  “ ‘This is an unkind description,' said Simonetta. ‘The Monomantic Credence is the Ultimate Pansophy: the Way of Existence and the Vital Perfection!' “

  “At this, Dame Clytie became a trifle bleak. Julian leapt into the breach. He discoursed upon the new Cadwal and stated that, where true democracy was the watchword, every person’s beliefs must be and should be sacred. He declared that he, personally, would defend such a precept to the death, or some such blather. Simonetta tapped her fingers on the table and barely listened. I saw the way the wind was blowing, directly toward recriminations and bad feelings. I decided to set the matters straight, once and for all.”

  “I pointed out that absolute democracy — sometimes known as 'nihilism' — is equivalent to utter confusion. Further, everyone knew that rule by committee was only slightly less chaotic than rule by a mob. For true progress, authority must be exercised by a single resolute man of unquestioned quality and judgment. I announced that, while I had no overweening lust for power the exigencies of the situation demanded that I take on this great responsibility, with all its challenges and trials. I felt that at this very moment we should agree to this program and proceed with full dedication in this direction.”