Tschai-Planet of Adventure (omnibus) (2012)

by Jack Vance

  “But who is he?”

  Anacho gave his fingertips an irritated twitch. “His name? I do not know. His status: high, in his own opinion at least. He is a Yao cavalier.”

  Reith turned his attention to Ylin Ylan, who watched the young man from the corner of her eye. Miraculous how her mood had altered! She had become alive and aware, though obviously twitching with nervousness and uncertainty. She flicked a glance toward Reith, and flushed to find his eyes on her. Bending her head she busied herself with the appetizers: dishes of gray grapes, biscuits, smoked sea-insects, pickled fern-pod. Reith watched the cavalier, who was unenthusiastically dining upon a black seed-bun and a dish of pickles, his gaze off across the sea. He gave a sad shrug, as if discouraged by his thoughts, and shifted his position. He saw the Flower of Cath, who feigned the most artless absorption in her food. The cavalier leaned forward in astonishment. He jumped to his feet with such exuberance as nearly to overturn the table. In three long strides he was across the room and down on one knee with a sweeping salute which brushed his cap across Traz’s face. “Blue Jade Princess! Your servant Dordolio. My goals are won.”

  The Flower bowed her head with an exact modicum of restraint and pleased surprise. Reith admired her aplomb. “Pleasant,” she murmured, “in a far land to chance upon a cavalier of Cath.”

  “‘Chance’ is not the word! I am one of a dozen who went forth to seek you, to win the boon proclaimed by your father and for the honor of both our palaces. By the wattles of the Pnume’s First Devil, it has been given to me to find you!”

  Anacho spoke in his blandest voice, “You have searched extensively, then?”

  Dordolio stood erect, made a cursory inspection of Anacho, Reith and Traz, and performed three precise nods. The Flower made a gay little motion, as if the three were casual companions at a picnic. “My loyal henchmen; all have been of incalculable help to me. But for them I doubt if I would be alive.”

  “In that case,” declared the cavalier, “they may ever rely upon the patronage of Dordolio, Gold and Carnelian. They shall use my field-name Alutrin Stargold.” He performed a salute which included all three, then snapped his finger at the serving woman. “A chair, if you please. I will dine at this table.”

  The serving woman somewhat unceremoniously pushed a chair into place; Dordolio seated himself and gave his attention to the Flower. “But what of your adventures? I assume them to be harrowing. Still you appear as fresh as ever — decidedly unharrowed.”

  The Flower laughed. “In these steppe-dwellers’ garments? I have not yet been able to change. I must buy dozens of sheer necessities before I dare let you look at me.”

  Dordolio, glancing at her gray garments, made a negligent gesture. “I had noticed nothing. You are as ever. But, if you wish, we will shop together; the bazaars of Coad are fascinating.”

  “Of course! Tell me of yourself. My father issued a behest, you say?”

  “He did indeed, and swore a boon. The most gallant responded. We followed your trail to Spang where we learned who had taken you: Priestesses of the Female Mystery. Many gave you up for lost, but not I. My perseverance has been rewarded! In triumph we will return to Settra!”

  Ylin Ylan turned a somewhat cryptic smile toward Reith. “I am of course anxious to return home. What luck to find you here in Coad!”

  “Remarkable luck,” said Reith dryly. “We arrived only an hour ago from Pera.”

  “Pera? I do not know the place.”

  “It lies at the far west of the Dead Steppe.”

  Dordolio gave an opaque stare, then once more he addressed himself to the Flower. “What hardships you must have suffered! But now you walk under the aegis of Dordolio! We return at once to Settra.”

  The meal proceeded, Dordolio and Ylin Ylan conversing with great vivacity. Traz, preoccupied with the unfamiliar table implements, turned them dour glances, as if he suspected their ridicule. Anacho paid them no heed; Reith ate in silence. Finally Dordolio sat back in his chair. “Now, as to the practicalities: the packet Yazilissa is at mooring, and shortly departs for Vervodei. A melancholy task to take leave of your comrades, good fellows all, I’m sure, but we must arrange our passage home.”

  Reith spoke in an even voice. “All of us, so it happens, are bound for Cath.”

  Dordolio presented his blank questioning stare, as if Reith spoke an incomprehensible language.

  He rose, helped Ylin Ylan to her feet; the two went to saunter on the terrace beyond the arbor. The serving woman brought the score. “Five sequins, if you please, for five meals.”

  “Five?”

  “The Yao ate at your table.”

  Reith paid over five sequins from his wallet. Anacho watched in amusement. “The Yao’s presence is actually an advantage; you will avoid attention upon your arrival at Settra.”

  “Perhaps,” said Reith. “On the other hand, I had hoped for the gratitude of the girl’s father. I need all the friends I can find.”

  “Events sometimes display a vitality of their own,” observed Anacho. “The Dirdir teleologists have interesting remarks to make on the subject. I recall an analysis of coincidences — this, incidentally, not by a Dirdir but by a Dirdirman Immaculate …” As Anacho spoke on, Traz went out on the terrace to survey the roofs of Coad; Dordolio and Ylin Ylan walked slowly past, ignoring his presence. Seething with indignation Traz returned to Reith and Anacho. “The Yao dandy urges her to dismiss us. She refers to us as nomads — rude but honest and dependable.”

  “No matter,” said Reith. “Her destiny is not ours.”

  “But you have practically made it so! We might have remained in Pera, or taken ourselves to the Fortunate Isles; instead —” He threw up his arms in disgust.

  “Events are not occurring as I expected,” Reith admitted. “Still, who knows? It may be for the best. Anacho thinks so, at any rate. Would you please ask her to step over here?”

  Traz went off on his errand, to return at once. “She and the Yao are off to buy what they call suitable garments! What a farce! I have worn steppe-dwellers’ clothes all my life! The garments are suitable and useful.”

  “Of course,” said Reith. “Well, let them do as they wish. Perhaps we also might make a change in our appearance.”

  Toward the dock area was the bazaar; here Reith, Anacho and Traz fitted themselves out in garments of somewhat less crude cut and material: shirts of soft light linen, short-sleeved vests, loose black breeches buckling at the ankle; shoes of supple gray leather.

  The docks were but a few steps away; they continued on to inspect the shipping, and the Yazilissa immediately engaged their attention: a three-masted ship over a hundred feet long, with passenger accommodations in a tall many-windowed after-house, and in a row of ’tween-decks cabins along the waist. Cargo booms hung over the docks; bales of goods were hoisted aloft, swung up, over and into the holds.

  Climbing the gangplank, they found the supercargo who verified that the Yazilissa sailed in three days, touching at ports in Grenie and Horasin, then faring by way of Pag Choda, the Islands of Cloud, Tusa Tula at Cape Gaiz on the western thrust of Kachan, to Vervodei in Cath: a voyage of sixty or seventy days.

  Inquiring as to accommodations, Reith learned that all first-class staterooms were booked as far as Tusa Tula, and all but one of the ’tween-decks cabins. There was, however, unlimited deck-class accommodation, which according to the supercargo was not uncomfortable except during the equatorial rains. He admitted these to be frequent.

  “Not satisfactory,” said Reith. “At the minimum we would want four second-class cabins.”

  “Unfortunately I can’t oblige you unless cancellations come in, which is always possible.”

  “Very well; I am Adam Reith. You may reach me at the Grand Continental Hotel.”

  The supercargo stared at him in surprise. “‘Adam Reith’? You and your group are already on the passenger list.”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Reith. “We only arrived in Coad this morning.”

&
nbsp; “But only an hour ago, perhaps less, a pair of Yao came aboard: a cavalier and a noblewoman. They took accommodations in the name of ‘Adam Reith’; the grand suite in the after-house — that is to say, two staterooms with a private saloon — and deck passage for three. I requested a deposit; they stated that Adam Reith would come aboard to pay the passage fee, which is two thousand three hundred sequins. Are you Adam Reith?”

  “I am Adam Reith, but I plan to pay no two thousand three hundred sequins. So far as I am concerned, cancel the booking.”

  “What sort of tomfoolery is this?” demanded the supercargo. “I have no inclination for such frivolity.”

  “I have even less desire to cross the Draschade Ocean in the rain,” said Reith. “If you want recourse, seek out the Yao.”

  “A pointless exercise,” growled the supercargo. “Well then, so be it. If you will be happy with something less than luxury, try aboard the Vargaz: the cog yonder. She’s departing in a day or so for Cath, and no doubt can find room for you.”

  “Thank you for your help.” Reith and his companions walked down the dock to the Vargaz: a short high-pooped round-hulled ship with a long bowsprit, sharply aslant. The two masts supported a pair of lateen yards with sails hanging limp while crewmen sewed on patches of new canvas.

  Reith inspected the cog dubiously, then shrugged and went aboard. In the shadow of the after-house two men sat at a table littered with papers, ink-sticks, seals, ribbons and a jug of wine. The most imposing of these was a burly man, naked from the waist up, save for a heavy growth of coarse black hair on his chest. His skin was brown, his features small and hard in a round immobile face. The other man was thin, almost frail, wearing a loose gown of white and a yellow vest the color of his skin. A long mustache drooped sadly beside his mouth; he wore a scimitar at his waist. Ostensibly a pair of sinister ruffians, thought Reith. “Yes, sir, what do you wish?” asked the burly man.

  “Transportation to Cath in as much comfort as possible,” said Reith.

  “Little enough to ask.” The man heaved himself to his feet. “I will show you what is available.”

  Reith eventually paid a deposit on two small cabins for Anacho and Ylin Ylan, a larger stateroom which he would share with Traz. The quarters were neither airy, spacious nor over-clean, but Reith thought that they might have been worse.

  “When do you sail?” he asked the burly captain.

  “Tomorrow noon on the flood. By preference, be aboard by midmorning; I run a punctual ship.”

  The three returned through the crooked streets of Coad to the hotel. Neither the Flower nor Dordolio were on the premises. Late in the afternoon they returned in a palanquin, followed by three porters laden with bundles. Dordolio alighted, helped Ylin Ylan forth; they entered the hotel followed by the porters and the chief bearer of the palanquin.

  Ylin Ylan wore a graceful gown of dark green silk, with a dark blue bodice. A charming little cap of crystal-frosted net constrained her hair. Seeing Reith she hesitated, turned to Dordolio and spoke a few words. Dordolio pulled at his extraordinary gold mustache, sauntered to where Reith sat with Anacho and Traz.

  “All is well,” said Dordolio. “I have taken passage for all aboard the Yazilissa, a ship of excellent reputation.”

  “I fear you have incurred an unnecessary expense,” said Reith politely. “I have made other arrangements.”

  Dordolio stood back, nonplussed. “But you should have consulted me!”

  “I can’t imagine why,” said Reith.

  “On what ship do you sail?” demanded Dordolio.

  “The cog Vargaz.”

  “The Vargaz? Bah! A floating pigpen. I would not wish to sail on the Vargaz.”

  “You do not need to do so, if you are sailing on the Yazilissa.”

  Dordolio tugged at his mustache. “The Blue Jade Princess likewise prefers to travel aboard the Yazilissa, the best accommodation available.”

  “You are a bountiful man,” said Reith, “to take luxurious passage for so large a group.”

  “In point of fact, I did only what I could,” admitted Dordolio. “Since you are in charge of the group’s funds the supercargo will render an account to you.”

  “By no means,” said Reith. “I remind you that I have already taken passage aboard the Vargaz.”

  Dordolio hissed petulantly through his teeth. “This is an insufferable situation.”

  The porters and the palanquin carrier drew near, and bowed before Reith. “Permit us to tender our accounts.”

  Reith raised his eyebrows. Was there no limit to Dordolio’s insouciance? “Of course, why should you not? Naturally to those who commanded your services.” He rose to his feet. He went to Ylin Ylan’s room, knocked on the rattan door. There was the sound of movement within; she looked forth through a peep-lens. The upper panel of the door slid back a trifle.

  Reith asked, “May I come in?”

  “But I’m dressing.”

  “This has made no difference before.”

  The door opened; Ylin Ylan stood somewhat sullenly aside. Reith entered. Bundles were everywhere, some opened to reveal garments and leathers, gauze slippers, embroidered bodices, filigree headwear. Reith looked around in astonishment. “Your friend is extravagantly generous.”

  The Flower started to speak, then bit her lips. “These few things are necessities for the voyage home. I do not care to arrive at Vervodei like a scullery maid.” She spoke with a haughtiness Reith had never before heard; “They are to be reckoned as travelling expenses. Please keep an account and my father will settle affairs to your satisfaction.”

  “You put me in a hard position,” said Reith, “where inevitably I lose my dignity. If I pay, I’m a lout and a fool; if I don’t, I’m a heartless pinchpenny. It seems that you might have handled the situation more tactfully.”

  “The question of tact did not arise,” said the Flower. “I desired the articles. I ordered them to be brought here.”

  Reith grimaced. “I won’t argue the subject. I came to tell you this: I have engaged passage to Cath aboard the cog Vargaz, which leaves tomorrow. It is a plain simple ship; you will need plain simple garments.”

  The Flower stared at him in puzzlement. “But the Noble Gold and Carnelian took passage aboard the Yazilissa!”

  “If he chooses to travel aboard the Yazilissa, he of course may do so, if he can settle for his passage. I have just notified him that I will pay neither for his palanquin rides, nor his passage to Cath, nor —” Reith gestured toward the parcels “— for the finery which he evidently urged you to select.”

  Ylin Ylan flushed angrily. “I had never expected to find you niggardly.”

  “The alternative is worse. Dordolio —”

  “That is his friend-name,” said Ylin Ylan in an undertone. “Best that you use his field name, or the formal address: Noble Gold and Carnelian.”

  “Whatever the situation, the cog Vargaz sails tomorrow. You may be aboard or remain in Coad as you choose.”

  Reith returned to the foyer. The porters and palanquin carrier had departed. Dordolio stood on the front verandah. The jeweled ornaments which had buckled his breeches at the knees were no longer to be seen.

  Chapter III

  The cog Vargaz, broad of beam, with high narrow prow, a cutaway midships, a lofty sterncastle, wallowed comfortably at its mooring against the dock. Like all else of Tschai, the cog’s aspects were exaggerated, with every quality dramatized. The curve of the hull was florid, the bowsprit prodded at the sky, the sails were raffishly patched.

  The Flower of Cath silently accompanied Reith, Traz and Anacho the Dirdirman aboard the Vargaz, with a porter bringing her luggage on a hand-truck.

  Half an hour later Dordolio appeared on the dock. He appraised the Vargaz a moment or two, then strolled up the gangplank. He spoke briefly with the captain, tossed a purse upon the table. The captain frowned up sidewise from under bushy black eyebrows, thinking his own thoughts. He opened the purse, counted the sequins and found an in
sufficiency, which he pointed out. Dordolio wearily reached into his pouch, found the required sum, and the captain jerked his thumb toward the sterncastle.

  Dordolio pulled at his mustache, raised his eyes toward the sky. He went to the gangplank, signaled a pair of porters who conveyed aboard his luggage. Then, with a formal bow toward the Flower of Cath, he went to stand at the far rail, looking moodily off across the Dwan Zher.

  Five other passengers came aboard: a small fat merchant in a somber gray kaftan and tall cylindrical hat; a man of the Isles of Cloud, with his spouse and two daughters: fresh fragile girls with pale skins and orange hair.

  An hour before noon the Vargaz hoisted sails, cast off lines and sheered away from the dock. The roofs of Coad became dark brown prisms laid along the hillside. The crew trimmed sails, coiled down lines, then unshipped a clumsy blast-cannon, which they dragged up to the foredeck.

  Reith asked Anacho, “Who do they fear? Pirates?”

  “A precaution. So long as a cannon is seen, pirates keep their distance. We have nothing to fear; they are seldom seen on the Draschade. A greater hazard is the victualling. The captain appears a man accustomed to good living, an optimistic sign.”

  The cog moved easily through the hazy afternoon. The Dwan Zher was calm and showed a pearly luster. The coastline faded away to the north; there were no ships to be seen. Sunset came: a wan display of dove-brown and umber, and with it a cool breeze which sent the water chuckling around the bluff bow.

  The evening meal was simple but palatable: slices of dry spiced meat, a salad of raw vegetables, insect paste, pickles, soft white wine from a green glass demijohn. The passengers ate in wary silence; on Tschai strangers were objects of instinctive suspicion. The captain had no such inhibitions. He ate and drank with gusto and regaled the company with witticisms, reminiscences of previous voyages, jocular guesses regarding each passenger’s purpose in making the voyage: a performance which gradually thawed the atmosphere. Ylin Ylan ate little. She appraised the two orange-haired girls to become gloomily aware of their appealing fragility. Dordolio sat somewhat apart, paying little heed to the captain’s conversation, but from time to time looking sidewise toward the two girls and preening his mustache. After the meal he conducted Ylin Ylan forward to the bow where they watched phosphorescent sea-eels streaking away from the oncoming bow. The others sat on benches along the high quarterdeck, conducting guarded conversations while pink Az and blue Braz rose, one immediately behind the other, to send a pair of trails across the water.