Araminta Station (45 page)

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.’”

Ysel Laverty looked to his sergeant. “Do you have a strong charge in your gun? Because soon we must shoot Orreduc.”

“Charge is strong, sir.”

Ysel Laverty turned back to Orreduc. “What did Julian say to you?”

Orreduc was now sullen. “He said many things. I paid little heed.”

“Why did you decide to kill these four young people?”

“Why does the sun shine? Why does the wind blow? I admit nothing. On the Lutwen Islands live a hundred thousand folk. At Stroma are a few hundred; at Araminta a few hundred more. If every Lutwenese still on Deucas were able to kill four woskers, there would be none left.”

“Quite so. Lucidly and reasonably put.” Ysel Laverty smiled grimly. “We had hoped to terminate jobs like yours by attrition. You were trusted and might have remained here as long as you liked. It seems to have been a mistaken policy. Because of your act, every Yip on Deucas will be sent home, or perhaps off-world.”

“You may send me home or off-world also,” said Orreduc ingenuously. “The effect is the same.”

“Did Julian suggest the so-called accident?”

Orreduc smiled wistfully. “What if I tell you the exact truth?”

“You are going to die. Tell the truth and you’ll save your helpers.”

“Kill me, then. I hope that both uncertainty and itching piles annoy you the rest of your days.”

Ysel Laverty gestured to his sergeant. “Handcuff him; take him to the flyer and put him in the after compartment. Do the same for the others. Go carefully; they might be armed.”

Chapter V, Part 5

Immediately upon Glawen’s return to Araminta Station he took himself to the Bureau B offices and there conferred with Bodwyn Wook. He learned that Julian had been hospitalized with a crushed pelvis and two smashed legs. “He is lucky to be alive,” said Bodwyn Wook. “If he planned the event, he made a great botch of it.”

Glawen shook his head. “In spite of all, I can’t credit Julian with murderous tendencies. “

“This is my opinion. The situation is ambiguous, but we can take it no farther.”

“He probably talked a lot of extravagant nonsense, and perhaps some sedition as well, but there would be no hard proof.”

“That is what we hear from the assistant stablemen, though their testimony is too vague to be useful.”

“What has happened to them?”

“Orreduc has been shot. The underlings are on their way to Cape Journal, where they will break a road through the rocks to Crazy Katy Lake and the Mile-High Falls.”

“They got off easy.”

Bodwyn Wook folded his hands and looked toward the ceiling. “Their guilt is hard to measure. They knew what was going on but made no move to prevent it. By our doctrine, they are as guilty as Orreduc. Yips look at life differently. Even now they don’t understand why they are being punished; Orreduc gave the orders; they merely obeyed, so why this cruel fate?

“But I feel no great sorrow on their behalf. The rule is simple: ‘When you travel to far places, obey the laws of the land.’ The Yips neglected this rule and are now en route to Cape Journal.”

Returning to Clattuc House, Glawen called Wayness on the telephone. She seemed wan and despondent, and had little to say.

Halfway through the next morning Wayness telephoned Glawen. “Are you busy?”

“Not particularly.”

“I want to talk with you. Can I meet you somewhere?”

“Certainly. Shall I come to Riverview House?”

“If you like. I’ll wait for you out in front.”

Glawen drove the Clattuc power wagon south along the beach road. A gusty wind from the sea caused the roadside palms to dip and sway, and set the fronds to rasping. Surf roared up the beach, to retreat in hissing sheets of spume. At Riverview House, Glawen found Wayness waiting beside the road, her dark green cloak flapping in the wind.

Wayness jumped into the seat beside Glawen. He drove another mile south, then turned off the road and halted where they could look out over the jumbling sea. Glawen asked, somewhat tentatively: “How are your father and mother?”

“Well enough. Mother’s sister has come to visit.”

“What of your plans? Are you still set upon your visit to Earth?”

“That’s what I want to talk about.” She sat a moment looking out to sea. “I’ve said very little about what I hope to do.”

“You’ve said nothing.”

“Only to Milo, who was coming with me. Now he’s gone. It came to me that if, like Milo, I were to die suddenly, or be killed, or lose my mind, then no one would know what I know. At least, I don’t think anyone knows what I know. I hope not.”

“Why haven’t you told your father?”

Wayness smiled sadly. “He would be astonished and highly concerned. He would not allow me to go to Earth. He would insist that I was too young and inexperienced for so much responsibility.”

“Perhaps he would be right.”

“I don’t think so. But I must tell someone else, just in case something happens to me.”

“It sounds like dramatic information.”

“You can judge for yourself.”

“You’re planning to tell me?”

“Yes. But you must undertake to tell no one, unless somehow I am killed and you fear for your own life, or something similar.”

“I don’t like the sound of this, but I’ll do as you ask.”

“Thank you, Glawen. First, you must know that I am not absolutely certain of anything, and I may be off on a wild-goose chase. But I feel that I must learn the truth.”

“Very well. Proceed.”

“When I visited Earth before, I was just a schoolgirl. I stayed with my father’s cousin at a place called Tierens, which is not far from Shillawy. His name is Pirie Tamm; he lives in an enormous echoing old house with his wife and daughters, all older than I. Pirie Tamm is a complicated person, an amateur of a dozen arts and crafts and recondite skills. He is one of the few remaining Naturalists on Earth - or, for that matter, the whole Gaean Reach - by reason of his interest in evolutionary biology. He has dozens of interesting friends; Milo and I both enjoyed every minute of our stay.

“One day an old man named Kelvin Kilduc came to call. We were told that he was the secretary, and possibly the final secretary, of the Naturalist Society, now on the verge of becoming totally defunct, since the membership consisted only of Kelvin Kilduc, Pirie Tamm, a few antiquarians and two or three dilettantes. The Society had once been prosperous but no longer, owing to the peculations of a secretary named Frons Nisfit, who had held the office sixty years before. Nisfit plundered the accounts, sold all the assets and made off with the proceeds. Nisfit could not be traced and the Society was left with a trifling income from investments Nisfit had not been able to liquidate - about enough to pay for the official stationery and the annual registration fee. And of course the Society held title to Cadwal, through the original Grant in Perpetuity, which was integral with the original Charter.

“Kelvin Kilduc in due course became secretary - an honorary position, which gave him a unique status at dinner parties; he was a walking conversation piece. I don’t think he took his position seriously.

“I approached him in the most demure and polite manner imaginable and asked if I might look at the original Charter, since I myself was a Naturalist from Throy. He did not want to be bothered and made difficulties: the Charter was locked in a vault, deep under the Bank of Margravia in Shillawy. I did not persist, although I thought him rather stuffy and self-important.

“Poor Kelvin Kilduc died in his sleep two weeks later, and for lack of anyone else Pirie Tamm assumed the post of secretary to the nearly nonexistent Naturalist Society.”

“One moment,” said Glawen. “What of the folk on Throy?”

“There is a distinction. They are Naturalists, so called, but not necessarily members of the Society, unless they pay dues and fulfill membership requirements, and no one has done so for centuries. In any event, Pirie Tamm became secretary, and felt obliged to visit the bank in Shillawy in order to make an inventory of the Society’s possessions - a task which Kelvin Kilduc had neglected in all his tenure.

“To make a long story short, when we looked into the vault, we found a large number of old records, the few paltry bonds which were still yielding income, but no Charter and, worse, no Grant in Perpetuity.

“Pirie Tamm was baffled. Before he thought, he blurted out that this was most serious; the grant was transferable and required only a bill of sale and new registration for a transfer of ownership.

“In other words, whoever held the original Charter and the attached grant owned all Cadwal: Ecce, Deucas and Throy.

“Pirie decided that the Charter and grant had been among the curios sold by Frons Nisfit. I suggested that we check the records to find if a new registration had been entered. Pirie now realized that we had uncovered a most delicate situation, and he did not know what to do, except ignore the whole thing and hope for the best. He obviously regretted that I knew of the situation, and made me promise to say nothing to anyone - at least until he could somehow regularize the matter.

“I don’t know what he did -  I suspect nothing, although he did learn that the grant had not been reregistered.

“There were a few clues which Pirie rather halfheartedly tried to run down, without any particular success. At the moment he wants only to let sleeping dogs lie, but he is old and ailing, and when he dies the new secretary will look for the Charter – if there is a new secretary.

“So there you have it - I planned to go to Earth with Milo, and try to find the Charter, before something dreadful happens. Now you know what I know, which is a relief, since if something happened to me, no one would know except Pirie Tamm, and he is a weak reed.”

“Now I know,” said Glawen. “What will you do when you return to Earth?”

“I’ll go back to stay with Pirie Tamm. Then I will join the Naturalist Society and become secretary. In that way, no new secretary will discover that the Charter is missing. Pirie might even cooperate and step down in my favor. I can’t imagine that anyone else wants the position.”

For a few moments Glawen pondered over what he had heard. “I don’t know what to tell you. There’s something nagging at my brain, but I can’t remember what it is. I wish I could come with you.”

Wayness said wistfully: “I wish you could too. But no matter. I’ll go to Earth and learn what I can, and perhaps there is some easy way out of the difficulty.”

“I hope it’s both easy and safe.”

“Why shouldn’t it be safe?”

“Someone else might be looking for the same thing.”

“I never thought of that.” Wayness considered. “Who would it be?”

“I don’t know. Nor do you. And so it might be dangerous.”

“I’ll be careful.”