Tschai - Complete Part 43

"Pnumekin outcasts."

The three trudged back through the dank streets of Sivishe.

Anacho presently said, "It might have been worse."

"But why should Pnumekin follow us?"

Traz muttered, "They have been following us since we departed Settra.

And maybe before."

"The Pnume think strange thoughts," said Anacho in a heavy voice.

"Their actions seldom admit of sensible explanation; they are the stuff of Tschai itself."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE THREE SAT at a table outside the Ancient Realm Inn, sipping soft wine and watching the pa.s.sing folk of Sivishe. Music was the key to a people's genius, thought Reith. This morning, pa.s.sing a tavern, he had listened to the music of Sivishe. The orchestra consisted of four instruments. The first was a bronze box studded with vellum-wrapped cones which when rubbed produced a sound like a cornet played at the lowest possible range. The second, a vertical wooden tube a foot in diameter, with twelve strings across twelve slots, emitted resonant tw.a.n.ging arpeggios. The third, a battery of forty-two drums, contributed a complex m.u.f.fled rhythm. The fourth, a wooden slidehorn, bleated, honked and produced wonderful squealing glissandos as well.

The music performed by the ensemble seemed to Reith peculiarly simple and limited: a repet.i.tion of simple melody, played with only the smallest variation. A few folk danced: men and women, face to face, hands at sides, hopping carefully from one leg to the other. Dull! thought Reith. Yet, at the end of the tune the couples separated with expressions of triumph, and recommenced their exertions as soon as the music started again. As minutes pa.s.sed, Reith began to sense complexities, almost imperceptible variations. Like the rancid black sauce which drowned the food, the music required an intensive effort even to ingest; appreciation and pleasure must remain forever beyond the reach of a stranger. Perhaps, thought Reith, these almost-unheard quavers and hesitations were the elements of virtuosity; perhaps the folk of Sivishe enjoyed hints and suggestions, fugitive l.u.s.ters, almost unnoticeable inflections: their reaction to the Dirdir city so close at hand.

No less an index to the thought-processes of a people was their religion.

The Dirdir, so Reith knew from conversations with Anacho, were irreligious. The Dirdirmen, to the contrary, had evolved an elaborate theology, based on a creation myth which derived Man and Dirdir from a single primordial egg. The submen of Sivishe patronized a dozen different temples. The observances, as far as Reith could see, followed the more or less universal pattern-abas.e.m.e.nt, followed by a request for favors, as often as not foreknowledge regarding the outcome of the daily races. Certain cults had refined and complicated their doctrines; their doxology was a metaphysical jargon subtle and ambiguous enough to please even the folk of Sivishe. Other creeds serving different needs had simplified procedures so that the worshipers merely made a sacred sign, threw sequins into the priest's bowl, received a benediction and were off about their affairs.The arrival of Woudiver's black car interrupted Reith's musing. Artilo, leaning forth with a leer, made a peremptory gesture, then sat crouched over the wheel staring off down the avenue.

The three entered the car, which lurched off across Sivishe. Artilo drove in a southeast direction, generally toward the s.p.a.ceyards. At the edge of Sivishe, where a last few shacks dwindled out across the salt flats, a cl.u.s.ter of ramshackle warehouses surrounded piles of sand, gravel, bricks, sintered marl. The car rolled across the central compound and halted by a small office built of broken brick and black slag.

Woudiver stood in the doorway. Today he wore a vast brown jacket, blue pantaloons, and a blue hat. His expression was bland and unrevealing; his eyelids hung halfway across his eyes. He raised his arm in a gesture of measured welcome, then backed into the dimness of the hut. The three alighted and went within. Artilo, coming behind, drew himself a mug of tea from a great black urn, then, hissing irritably, went to sit in a corner.

Woudiver indicated a bench; the three seated themselves. Woudiver paced back and forth. He raised his face to the ceiling and spoke. "I have made a few casual inquiries. I fear that I find your project impractical.

There is no difficulty as to work-s.p.a.ce, the south warehouse yonder would suit admirably and you could have it at a reasonable rent. One of my trusted a.s.sociates, the a.s.sistant superintendent of supply at the s.p.a.ceyards, states that the necessary components are available ... at a price.

No doubt we could salvage a hull from the junkyard; you would hardly require luxury, and a crew of competent technicians would respond to a sufficiently attractive wage."

Reith began to suspect that Woudiver was leading up to something. "So, then, why is the project impractical?"

Woudiver smiled with innocent simplicity. "For me, the profit is inadequate to the risks involved."

Reith nodded somberly and rose to his feet. "I'm sorry then to have occupied so much of your time. Thank you very much for the information."

"Not at all," said Woudiver graciously. "I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor. Perhaps when you return with your treasure, you will want to build a fine palace; then I hope you will remember me."

"Quite possibly," said Reith. "So now..."

Woudiver seemed in no hurry to have them go. He settled into a chair with an unctuous grunt. "Another dear friend deals in gems. He will efficiently convert your treasure into sequins, if the treasure is gems, as I presume? No? Rare metal, then? No? Aha! Precious essences?"

"It might be any or none," said Reith. "I think it best, at this stage, to remain indefinite."Woudiver twisted his face into a mask of whimsical vexation. "It is precisely this indefiniteness which gives me pause! If I knew better what I might expect-"

"Whoever helps me," said Reith, "or whoever accompanies me, can expect wealth."

Woudiver pursed his lips. "So now I must join this piratical expedition in order to share the booty?"

"I'll pay a reasonable percentage before we leave. If you come with us"

Reith rolled his eyes toward the ceiling at the thought "or when we return, you'll get more."

"How much more, precisely?"

"I don't like to say. You'd suspect me of irresponsibility. But you wouldn't be disappointed."

From the corner Artilo gave a skeptical croak, which Woudiver ignored.

He spoke in a voice of great dignity. "As a practical man I can't operate on speculation. I would require a retaining fee of ten thousand sequins." He blew out his cheeks and glanced toward Reith. "Upon receipt of this sum, I would immediately exert my influence to set your scheme into motion."

"All very well," said Reith. "But, as a ridiculous supposition, let us a.s.sume that, rather than a man of honor, you were a scoundrel, a knave, a cheat. You might take my money, then find the project impossible for one reason or another, and I would have no recourse. Hence I can pay only for actual work accomplished."

A spasm of annoyance crossed Woudiver's face, but his voice was blandness itself. "Then pay me rent for yonder warehouse. It is a superb location, un.o.btrusive, close to the s.p.a.ceyards, with every convenience.

Furthermore, I can obtain an old hull from the junkyards, purportedly for use as a storage bin. I will charge but a nominal rent, ten thousand sequins a year, payable in advance."

Reith nodded sagely. "An interesting proposition. But since we won't need the premises for more than a few months, why should we inconvenience you? We can rent more cheaply elsewhere, in even better circ.u.mstances."

Woudiver's eyes narrowed; the flaps of skin surrounding his mouth trembled. "Let us deal openly with each other. Our interests run together, as long as I gain sequins. I will not work on the cheap. Either pay earnest- money, or our business is at an end."

"Very well," said Reith. "We will use your warehouse, and I will pay a thousand sequins for three months' rent on the day a suitable hull arrives on the premises and a crew starts to work."

"Hmf. That could be tomorrow."

"Excellent!""I will need funds to secure the hull. It has worth as sc.r.a.p metal. Drayage will be a charge."

"Very well. Here is a thousand sequins." Reith counted the sum upon the desk. Woudiver slapped down his great slab of a hand. "Insufficient!

Inadequate! Paltry!"

Reith spoke sharply. "Evidently you do not trust me. This does not predispose me to trust you. But you risk nothing but an hour or two of your time whereas I risk thousands of sequins."

Woudiver turned to Artilo. "What would you do?"

"Walk away from the mess."

Woudiver turned back to Reith, spread wide his arms. "There you have it."

Reith briskly picked up the thousand sequins. "Good day, then. It is a pleasure to have known you."

Neither Woudiver nor Artilo stirred.

The three returned to the hotel by public pa.s.senger wagon.

A day later Artilo appeared at the Ancient Realm Inn. "Aila Woudiver wants to see you."

"What for?"

"He's got you a hull. It's in the old warehouse. A gang is stripping and cleaning it. He wants money. What else?"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE HULL was satisfactory, and of adequate dimensions. The metal was sound; the observation ports were clouded and stained but well seated and sealed.

Woudiver stood to the side as Reith inspected the hull, an expression of lofty tolerance on his face. Every day, so it seemed, he wore a new and more extravagant garment, today a black and yellow suit, a black hat with a scarlet panache. The clasp securing his cape was a silver and black oval, bisected along the minor axis. From one end protruded the stylized head of a Dirdir, from the other the head of a man. Woudiver, noticing Reith's gaze, gave a profound nod. "You would never suspect as much from my physique, but my father was Immaculate."

"Indeed! And your mother?"

Woudiver's mouth twitched. "A n.o.blewoman of the north."

Artilo spoke from the entry port: "A tavern wench of Thang, marshwoman by blood."

Woudiver sighed. "In the presence of Artilo, romantic delusion is impossible. In any event, but for the accidental interposition of an incorrect womb, here would stand Aila Woudiver, Dirdirman Immaculate of the Violet Degree, rather than Aila Woudiver, dealer in sand and gravel, and gallant prosecutor of lost causes."

"Illogical," murmured Anacho. "In fact, improbable. Not one Immaculate in a thousand retains Primitive Paraphernalia."

Woudiver's face instantly became a peculiar magenta color. Whirling with astounding swiftness, he pointed a thick finger. "Who dares talk of logic and probability? The renegade Ankhe at afram Anacho! Who wore Blue and Pink without undergoing the Anguish? Who disappeared coincidentally with the Excellent Azarvim issit Dardo, who has never been seen again? A proud Dirdirman, this Ankhe at afram!"

"I no longer consider myself a Dirdirman," said Anacho in a level voice.

"I definitely have no ambition for the Blue and Pink, nor even the trophies of my lineage."

"In this case kindly do not comment upon the plight of one who is unluckily barred from his rightful caste!"

Anacho turned away, fuming with anger, but obviously deeming it wise to hold his tongue. It appeared that Aila Woudiver had not been idle, and Reith wondered how far his researches had extended.Woudiver gradually regained his composure. His mouth twitched, his cheeks puffed in and out. He made a scornful noise. "To more profitable matters. What is your opinion of this hulk?"

"Favorable," said Reith. "We could expect no better from the sc.r.a.p- heap."

"This is my opinion as well," said Woudiver. "The next phase of course will be somewhat more difficult. My friend at the s.p.a.ceyards is by no means anxious to run the Gla.s.s Box, no more I. But an adequacy of sequins works wonders. Which brings us to the subject of money. My out-of-pocket expenses are eight hundred and ninety sequins for the hull, which I consider good value. Drayage charge: three hundred sequins. Shop rental for one month: one thousand sequins. Total: twenty-one hundred and ninety sequins. My commission or personal profit I reckon at ten percent, or two hundred and nineteen sequins, to a total of twenty-four hundred and nine sequins."

"Wait, wait, wait!" cried Reith. "Not a thousand sequins a month, a thousand for three months; that was my offer."

"It is too little."

"I'll pay five hundred, not a clear more. Now in the matter of your commission, let us be reasonable. You provide drayage at a profit; I pay a large rent on your warehouse; I see no reason to hand over an additional ten percent on these items."

"Why not?" inquired Woudiver in a reasonable voice. "It is a convenience to you that I can offer these services. I wear two hats, so to speak: that of the expediter and that of the supplier. Why, merely because the expediter finds a certain supplier convenient, inexpensive and efficient, should he be denied his fee? If the drayage were performed elsewhere, the charges would be no less, and I would receive my fee without complaint."

Reith could not deny the logic of the presentation, nor did he try. He said, "I don't intend to pay more than five hundred sequins for a ramshackle old shed you'd be happy renting for two hundred."

Woudiver held up a yellow finger. "Consider the risk! We are about to suborn the thievery of valuable property! I am rewarded, please understand, partly for services rendered and partly to allay my fear of the Gla.s.s Box."

"This is a reasonable statement, from your point of view," said Reith. "As far as I am concerned, I want to complete the s.p.a.ceship before the money runs out. After the ship is complete, fueled and provisioned, you can take every sequin remaining, for all I care."

"Indeed!" Woudiver scratched his chin. "How many sequins do you have then, so that we can plan accordingly?"

"Something over a hundred thousand."

"Mmf. I wonder if the job can be done at all-let alone allow for surplus.""My point exactly. I want to keep non-construction expenses to the minimum."

Woudiver turned his face toward Artilo. "See how I am reduced. All prosper but Woudiver. As usual, he suffers for his generosity."

Artilo gave a noncommittal grunt.

Reith counted out sequins. "Five hundred-exorbitant rent for this ramshackle shed. Drayage: three hundred. The hull: eight hundred and ninety. I'll pay ten percent on the hull. Another eighty-nine. A total of seventeen hundred and seventy-nine."

Woudiver's broad yellow face mirrored a succession of emotions. At last he said, "I must remind you that a policy of parsimony is often the most expensive in the end."

"If the work goes efficiently," said Reith, "you won't find me parsimonious. You'll see more sequins than you ever dreamed existed. But I intend to pay only for results. It is to your interest to expedite the s.p.a.ce- boat as best you can. If the money runs out we're all the losers."

For once Woudiver had nothing to say. He stared dolefully at the glittering heap on the table, then, separating purples, scarlets, dark greens, he counted. "You drive a hard bargain."

"To our mutual benefit, ultimately."

Woudiver dropped the sequins into his pouch. "If I must I must." He drummed his fingers against his thigh. "Well, as to the components, what do you require first?"

"I know nothing about Dirdir machinery. We need the advice of an expert technician. Such a man should be here now."

Woudiver squinted sidelong. "Without knowledge, how do you expect to fly?"

"I am acquainted with w.a.n.kh s.p.a.ce-boats."

"Hmmf. Artilo, go fetch Deine Zarre from the Technical Club."

Woudiver stalked off to his office, leaving Reith, Anacho and Traz alone in the shed.

Anacho surveyed the hull. "The old hulk has done well. This is the Ispra, a series now obsolete, in favor of the Concax Screamer. We must obtain Ispra components, to simplify the work."

"Are these available?"

"Undoubtedly. I believe you got the better of the yellow beast. His father an Immaculate-what a joke! His mother a marsh-woman-that I can believe! He's evidently gone to pains to learn our secrets."