Lurulu

by Jack Vance

  Almost before he had finished speaking, the children had dashed from the inn and around the building to the flitter. Myron hurried after them, and reached the flitter in time to extricate the luggage before Berard and Sonssi swarmed aboard to do the work themselves. Myron passed out the luggage; the children seized the cases and carried them triumphantly back to the inn, up the stairs and into the room which had been assigned to the spacemen.

  Maloof and Myron followed more sedately, and were ushered by the children into a large room smelling of wax and old wood. The room lacked ornament, but was furnished with massive pieces clearly of great age. Maloof went to look from the window which, as advertised, commanded a view of the river. A path led from the inn, down to a dock, where several boats bobbed at their moorings.

  Maloof signalled Sonssi, who sprang forward, quivering with eagerness. Maloof said: “I notice boats at the dock yonder. Are they to be used by guests of the inn?”

  “Indeed they are, sir, and they provide truly fine sport, or — if you prefer — calm and gentle rest. You are assured of a pleasant evening on the water.”

  “Not tonight,” said Maloof. “Perhaps tomorrow morning.”

  “Still, you should reserve now. In the morning the fishermen come early and take out the best boats, and nothing remains but the scow.” Berard stepped forward. “May I ask, what sort of boat do you require?”

  Maloof considered. “Something not too large, but it should move well through the water and be very quiet.”

  “Perhaps you should come down to the dock while the light still holds and make your own selection.”

  “A good idea,” said Maloof. “We will come down in five minutes.”

  “We will be ready.”

  Berard and Sonssi marched to the door where they turned to stand in postures of formal decorum. Maloof and Myron paid them no heed, and began to arrange their belongings.

  Berard spoke. “Sirs, we have done our best to serve you. If we have failed, then we deserve no gratuity.”

  “Aha!” said Maloof. “All is now clear.” He gave five dinkets to each, which the children accepted politely but without enthusiasm and departed.

  Ten minutes later Maloof and Myron walked down to the dock, with Berard and Sonssi running ahead. Four boats were moored to the dock. In the end they selected the Lulio, an unpretentious work-boat about twenty feet long, with a small cuddy.

  Sonssi endorsed the choice. “All are good boats; they float without hesitation and the engine propels them in a direction of your choice. The Lulio has a small cabin which will deflect the rain, should this occur.”

  Berard demonstrated the controls and certified that the boat was capable of at least adequate speed. Sonssi told them confidently: “Naturally you will need a skillful pilot, and here I am superior to Berard who is somewhat reckless and likes to try sidewise swashes. He is also absent-minded and is apt to run you aground. If you trust Berard, you are likely to come back bedraggled and wet. As for me, I know all the secret places of the river and the fine streams.”

  Berard said scornfully: “Pay no heed to Sonssi; she is a bit of a braggart. I am by far the superior pilot! I take it for granted that you will hire me in this capacity.”

  Maloof explained that no pilot whatever would be needed, while the two listened glumly. The four returned up the path. Berard and Sonssi raced ahead and stationed themselves by the door to the inn.

  Maloof looked from one to the other. “So what is it now?”

  “Nothing of consequence, sir,” said Berard. “We were waiting in case other services might be needed.”

  Sonssi added: “Also, if you planned gratuities, we wanted to be ready at hand, to cause you the least inconvenience.”

  Maloof gave a rueful laugh and distributed five-dinket coins to each, then he and Myron entered the inn. They went to sit at the bar, where four villagers were already present, drinking beer from tall tankards. They darted sidelong glances toward Maloof and Myron, then turned back to their beer, to mutter in undertones.

  Teybald, now wearing a white smock and a small white cap, approached. “What, sirs, is your pleasure?”

  “You may serve us a bitter ale, if it is readily available,” said Maloof.

  Without comment Teybald produced two tankards of foaming ale.

  “Further,” said Maloof, “we want to cruise the river for a few hours tomorrow. For preference we will use the Lulio. I expect that this is a service that you offer to guests at the inn without charge?”

  “Wrong! We rent the Lulio out at a rate of seven sols per day.”

  Maloof raised his eyebrows in shock. “That is a large sum! We can swim the river free of charge.”

  “True, and you will lose your private parts to the glass-fish within the minute. Swimming is a poor economy.”

  In the end Maloof secured the Lulio for five sols, payment to be made in advance. Maloof agreed to the provision and paid on the spot.

  The two were presently called to supper, which consisted of a dish of sharp greens, fried fish with sour fritters, goulash with seasoned barley, a compote of fresh fruit and a pot of tea.

  Berard and Sonssi, wearing white aprons, served them deftly and again received gratuities.

  After supper Maloof and Myron resisted a second visit to the bar and went upstairs to their beds. The evening was quiet; there were no sounds from the village. After half an hour of desultory conversation, the two slept.

  6

  Maloof and Myron arose early, descended to the common room and were served a substantial breakfast of porridge, griddlecakes with marmalade and fried sausages. In the pre-dawn stillness, they walked down to the dock.

  The day was clear and crisp, without so much as a breeze to ruffle the face of the river. The two boarded the Lulio, loosed the mooring and set off downstream, with the first glimmer of dawn light reflecting on the water.

  The Lulio moved quietly at ten miles per hour, according to the meter on the console.

  Maloof kept the boat close to the right-hand shore, where, in Maloof’s opinion, they should be less conspicuous to anyone watching from the Maijaro, although it seemed unlikely that either Cavke or Lady Maloof would be vigilant at this early hour. Under different conditions the two men would have enjoyed the peace of the river and the idyllic scenery along the shores, which, appearing ahead, drew abreast, then receded astern.

  Half an hour passed, and the two began to search the water ahead for a glimpse of the Maijaro, but there was no sign of the houseboat. Ten minutes went by, while Maloof and Myron became increasingly tense. At last the Maijaro came into view, anchored beside a small island, bow pointing downstream.

  Maloof idled the engine; the Lulio drifted close under the trees which shaded the water, toward the Maijaro, and at last drew alongside. They watched and listened, but detected neither sound nor movement from within. With the utmost delicacy, Myron transferred himself to the front deck where he made the Lulio’s painter fast to a stanchion. Maloof joined him and they let the boat swing free, to where it could not bump into the houseboat.

  For a moment they stood listening lest someone within might have been alerted by the slight movement of the houseboat when they had brought their weight aboard. Within was silence; no one had noticed.

  Maloof tested the door into the front cabin and eased it ajar. Across the cabin a doorway opened into the main saloon. From where they stood only a section of the far wall was visible, but clearly through the open doorway came the chink of porcelain and a faint sipping sound. Maloof shifted cautiously forward and brought most of the saloon into view.

  In a high-backed wicker chair sat Lady Maloof, with an octagonal tabouret of split bamboo beside her, on which rested a tray with a pot of tea, a plate of small pastries and a saucer of what might have been honey. In her bony hand she held a fluted yellow teacup. She wore a voluminous peignoir of pale blue silk, decorated with a fantastic array of flamboyant birds. They sat on perches with their tails dangling below spread into extravagant fan
s, creating patterns of vivid color: tangerine-red, phosphorescent green, acrid blue. The garment was wildly unsuitable to the circumstances and would seem to represent Lady Maloof’s brave but futile attempts to deny the remorseless passage of time. Apparently she had undergone surgical techniques to the same ends. The results were not at all happy. The skin adjacent to her eyelids had been gathered, causing her eyes to tilt upward as if in querulous inquiry. The wattles under her chin were gone, leaving a long pointed chin. Myron saw Maloof wince and shake his head.

  The two searched the saloon. Lady Maloof was alone, thinking her dismal thoughts.

  Holding his hand-gun at the ready, Maloof stole step by step into the saloon. Myron silently followed. Lady Maloof became fretful and raised her head, as if to call out. Maloof and Myron froze in their tracks, but Lady Maloof changed her mind and drank more tea. Maloof eased silently forward, slow step by step. Lady Maloof sat nodding over her tea, until, warned by some small sound, she looked over her shoulder. At the sight of the intruders, her eyes went wide and her mouth sagged open. She started to scream. Maloof was upon her, clamping her mouth before she could utter more than a terrified squeak. Her eyes bulged, as she stared at her still-strange assailant; as for Maloof, this haggard old woman was only barely recognizable as his mother. Orlo Cavke had lavished little loving care upon the source of his income.

  At last Lady Maloof’s shoulders sagged, as Maloof’s identity penetrated her consciousness. She clawed his hand away from her mouth. “You are Adair,” she croaked. “Adair!”

  “Yes, I am Adair. I am taking you back to Traven and your home.”

  Lady Maloof’s eyes filled with tears which trickled down her addled old cheeks.

  Maloof said: “Your friend Cavke —” he corrected himself “— Loy Tremaine, where is he now?”

  Lady Maloof looked toward the hall which led to the after-cabins. Maloof followed her gaze, to find Cavke standing in the doorway. He was naked to the waist and barefoot.

  “Here I am,” said Cavke. He peered at Maloof, then at Myron. “What do you want of me?”

  “I have come for my mother. I am taking her home to Traven.”

  Cavke took note of the hand-gun which Maloof held at the ready. “Not a good idea,” said Cavke easily, apparently relaxed in the doorway. Then, with two sudden long strides, Cavke stood behind Lady Maloof. With one hand he seized her scrawny neck; with the other he took up a knife from the galley counter and thrust the point against the corded gray neck. To Maloof he said: “You are a fine and noble son, but why should I be inconvenienced on that account? In short, she will not go with you, or anyone else!”

  Maloof studied the dark aquiline face, noticing again that the eyes were set too closely together. Remembering the Krenke photographs, Maloof saw that Cavke’s face had become indefinably coarse. The lips had thickened; there was a puffiness under the eyes; the slack rotundity at the abdomen marked the beginnings of a paunch. His black trousers were almost indecently tight around the hips, flaring at the knees. His naked chest was hairless and glistened as if oiled. A gold ring hung from his left ear; the sunburst tattoo was visible under his jaw. He asked suddenly: “How did you know where to find your mother?”

  “It was simple enough. You gave out the information yourself.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “At my aunt’s house on Traven you said that you intended to return to Fluter, the most beautiful world in the Reach. I took you at your word. At Coro-Coro the IPCC agent suggested that you would rent a houseboat. Zangwill Transit told us where to find the Maijaro, and here we are.”

  Cavke grinned wolfishly, and said: “You are not welcome; to be frank, I am not quite sure how to deal with you.”

  “I have a suggestion,” said Maloof. “Leave the houseboat, return to Coro-Coro, but do not try to interfere with my plans.”

  “A very good idea if a trifle droll,” said Cavke. “But I have an even better idea. In a month or so I will drop this old woman off at the O-Shar-Shan in Coro-Coro, and you can do what you like with her.”

  “No!” squeaked Lady Maloof. “He wants to cash my annuity! To this I say ‘No’! Not another dinket for this brute!”

  Maloof said to Cavke: “That seems definite enough.”

  Lady Maloof continued: “I cannot tell you how he has abused me! His insults have been beyond belief!”

  Cavke gave her a half-amused jostle. “Quiet, you old mudlark! Have you no dignity? These men are not interested in your complaints!”

  Lady Maloof only raised her voice. “His insults were cruel! He called me a bony old sandpiper with the molt! He said that I smelled like pickled herring, and that I must bathe! And he suggested that I use the river, since the glass-fish would give me one look, then rush off to find something edible!”

  “Not at all nice,” said Maloof.

  “Just a bit of jocularity,” said Cavke, grinning.

  “He has slandered me in a hundred ways!” wailed Lady Maloof. “I want to go home!”

  “Not so fast,” said Cavke. “Come along, old lady; find my clean clothes.” He started for the hallway, dragging Lady Maloof along in front of him.

  Myron instantly bounded across the room and stationed himself in the opening, holding his gun at the ready. He grinned at Cavke. “You have a gun in your room. You don’t need it at the moment.”

  Cavke saw that if he moved toward the hall, he would be putting himself between Myron and Maloof, which would not be to his advantage, since either one could then shoot him. With a sulky expression, dragging Lady Maloof stumbling and hopping, he backed into a corner, where no one could get behind him. He spoke in a sibilant voice: “This is a stalemate which must be resolved. If you behave reasonably, in three weeks or a month you may take custody of this woman and go your way, and I shall not interfere, unless you attempt some act of mindless vengeance upon me. Otherwise this lady shall be dead, and I may also be dead, but for you that is only incidental. So, that is the proposition, which should satisfy us all, more or less. What is your response?”

  From somewhere came a soft thud; Myron looked toward Maloof and the act nearly cost him his life. Orlo Cavke hurled his knife at Myron’s neck. Maloof shouted; Myron saw the flicker of steel and slumped over backwards, almost to the floor. Cavke reached behind him and took up a heavy cleaver which he slung with great force at Myron’s head. The cleaver spun through the air and with its butt end struck Myron’s shoulder, numbing his arm. Cavke took instant advantage of the occasion. Scooping up Myron’s gun, he lunged for the hallway, dragging Lady Maloof along with him. He gained the opening into the hallway, where he halted for a triumphant moment. “Now!” cried Cavke. “From behind this old woman I will shoot you dead. If you retreat to your boat, I will shoot you from the deck! You gambled with your lives, and you have lost at the great game! Prepare to meet the judgment of your —”

  In the hall behind Cavke a heavy form appeared. A hand reached over Cavke’s shoulder, twisted and wrenched. Cavke screamed and the weapon clattered to the deck. Lady Maloof fell into a whimpering heap of scarlet birds and sprawling limbs. Cavke screamed again as his arm was wrenched into an unnatural position, and he was thrust stumbling into the saloon.

  Three men entered from the rear cabin. Myron and Maloof recognized the three: Derl Mone, Avern Glister and Madrig Cargus, who had come up from behind Cavke in the rear passage. Mone and Glister advanced upon Cavke; they shackled his arms behind his back, then tied a lead-rope around his neck, while Cavke stood limp and stricken, his features sagging, overcome by the disaster which had so suddenly overtaken him. The men from Krenke, standing back, surveyed Cavke with cold satisfaction.

  Mone spoke: “Orlo! Do you know me? I am Derl Mone. My daughter was Murs Mone. Do you remember her?”

  Glister spoke: “Orlo! Do you know me? I am Avern Glister. My daughter was Lally Glister. Do you remember? She had brown hair and a tip-tilted nose.”

  Cargus spoke. “Orlo! Do you know me? I am Madrig Cargus. My daughter was Salu
. Surely you remember Salu?”

  Cavke grinned a ghastly grin. “I know you all well, and the three girls also! The brain is a wonderful instrument, that it remembers so well.” Then he added in a voice suddenly husky: “How did you find me, so far from Krenke?”

  Mone showed a small cold grin: “You have these off-worlders to thank. They flew their flitter out to Krenke and asked questions about you. We put a tracer button on their flitter and followed wherever they led. As we expected, they brought us to you.”

  “Be assured that you will not escape us again,” said Glister. “We shall watch you with care, as if you were our ailing child!”

  “Your return to Krenke will be a great sensation!” said Cargus. “The homecoming celebration will be remembered down the ages. The entire village will be in a froth of excitement!”

  “Just so,” said Mone. “We plan a festival of seven days at which you shall be the dance-master.”

  “But we must not keep all of your old acquaintances waiting! So now, it is back to Krenke, in grand style!”

  “You will want to make an impressive entry,” said Cargus. “I will get you a shirt, a coat and shoes.”

  Maloof asked Mone: “Will you be able to rise from the roof with so much of a load?”

  “Feel no concern; we have come in our working flitter; it will carry double the weight and fly like a bird.”

  7

  The Flauts with their wretched prisoner were gone. Lady Maloof had changed her own costume and packed a few of her belongings into a travelling bag, then the three boarded the Lulio and returned upstream to dock at Pengelly. Lady Maloof was placed aboard the flitter; there were final gratuities for Berard and Sonssi, then the flitter rose above the village and set off back toward Coro-Coro.

  Maloof told Lady Maloof: “There is a final critical moment when we transfer you from the flitter to the Glicca. We must be as inconspicuous as possible, so as not to attract the notice of the Civil Agents.”

  Lady Maloof made a querulous sound. “Surely they will recognize me for what I am, and not molest me in any way.”