Magicians of Gor (69 page)

“Tal, gentlemen!” beamed Boots Tarsk-Bit, waddling up to us.

“I wanted to kill you,” said Marcus to him.

“Any particular reason?” inquired Boots.

“For insulting the Home Stone of Ar’s Station,” said Marcus, grimly.

“I trust that your homicidal urges have now subsided,” said Boots.

“Considerably,” said Marcus. “Now I am depressed.”

“You seem in good spirits,” I said to Boots.

“What did you think of my performance?’ he asked.

“I thought it marvelous, brilliant, unparalleled, incomparable!” I said.

“Only that?” he asked, hurt.

“Better than that, if possible,” I assured him.

“Incomparably incomparable?” asked Boots.

“At least,” I said.

“Yet I expect to exceed it,” he said.

“You will try again, then?” asked Marcus, eagerly.

“Hold,” I said. “How can you exceed the incomparably incomparable?”

“Easily,” said Boots. “All that is required is that in each of one’s

performances one exceeds all one’s previous performances, as well as those of

everyone else. Thus I set new standards as I go along.”

“And thus,” I said, “in that fashion, is it possible for the incomparably

incomparable to be outdone by the even more incomparably incomparable.”

“That is it,” said Boots.

“You will then try again?” asked Marcus, eagerly.

“Try what again?” asked Boots.

“To obtain the Home Stone of Ar’s Station,” said Marcus.

“What for?” asked Boots.

“What for?” asked Marcus.

“He already has it,” I said.

Boots opened his cloak, briefly.

“It is the Home Stone?” whispered Marcus, reverently.

“I certainly hope so,” said Boots.

“Do you not remember what he said in his insulae,” I asked (pg. 405) Marcus,

“that it would be no more than a sneeze?”

“Yes,” said Marcus. That is a Gorean expression, incidentally, that something

would be no more than a sneeze.

“A sneeze,” I said. “A sneeze! Do you not grasp it, the audacity of it, the

humor of it?”

“No,” said Marcus.

“That is when the wily rogue did it,” I chuckled, “when he sneezed. We were

watching him, not his hands, and that is when the substitution was made!”

“Quite wrong,” said Boots.

“Oh?’ I said.

“Yes,” he said. “The substitution was made quite early in the performance, when

I looked up at the clouds, speculating that they would be unlikely to bother

raining on such an unworthy stone. You remember in the jokes about why they had

to take it indoors and make it a Home Stone, there being nothing else to do with

it, because it was causing a drought in the countryside?”

“That is not true, of course,” said Marcus.

“No, of course not,” said Boots. “It is really a quite nice stone.”

“And it could be rained upon like any other stone,” said Marcus.

“Of course,” agreed Boots.

“It comes from a well-watered area, in the Vosk Basin,” said Marcus.

“I am sure of it,” said Boots.

“I remember,” I said. “The substitution was made so early?’ I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Not when you sneezed?” I said.

“No,” he said. “It is often my practice to make the substitution early, before

the audience is really ready to watch for it. They are not yet that alert. Then

one acts as though the substitution, if it is a magic show, is to take place

later. One may even hint at times and ways of doing it, and have the audience

crying out, thinking they have caught you, but then they are mystified when you

show them that things are not as they thought. Also, if the substitution is made

late, people may perhaps even recall, remembering things they did not pay

attention to at the time, or deduce what must have occurred. Thus, you wish to

give them a great deal to think about after the actual substitution. One does

not just do the substitution and (pg. 406) rush off. That might suggest the time

at which, for example, and perhaps even the manner in which, the substitution

had taken place. To be sure, this was not really a performance of that sort

because no one, except you two, I suppose, was expecting anything of the sort.

Indeed, it was, all things considered, little more than a brief, startling

revelation of comedic brilliance, with a casual substitution thrown in. You will

never know the temptation I felt to show both Home Stones afterwards, so that

the audience might come to a fuller appreciation of the entire matter.”

“It is good that you resisted that temptation,” said Marcus.

“I think so,” said Boots.

“You might have been roasted alive within the Ahn,” said Marcus.

“In my thinking on the matter I did not neglect to take such considerations into

my calculations,” said Boots. “I permitted them to exert their influence, to add

their weight, so to speak, to the scales.”

“Know that we, for what it is worth, and all those of Ar’s Station,” said

Marcus, “appreciate your brilliance!”

“Thank you,” said Boots.,

“We salute you!” he said.

“Thank you,” said Boots.

“You did not do it when you sneezed?’ I asked.

“No,” he said.

“Why then did you sneeze?” I asked.

“My nose itched,” he said.

“Then,” said Marcus, pleased, “if the substitution was made early you were not,

most of the time, reviling the actual Home Stone of Ar’s Station.”

“True,” said Boots.

“And I almost killed you for nothing,” marveled Marcus.

Boots shuddered.

“You nose itched?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Boots.

“I think,” I said, “that you should prepare to leave the city as soon as

possible.”

“No,” said Boots.

“Tonight,” said Marcus.

“No,” said Boots.

“Marcus is going to assist me tomorrow,” I said. “But he will catch up with you,

with a slave, Phoebe.” I looked at Boots. “No?” I asked.

“No,” said Boots. “Tomorrow night is better. If the substitution is discovered

today, on the same day I was within the (pg. 407) circle, and I left the city

today, this might seem too improbably to be a mere coincidence. It seems likely

that it might be conjectured I was in flight.”

“He is right, of course,” I said.

“Yes,” said Marcus, in anguish.

Both Marcus and I, of course, now that the Home Stone was in our keeping, were

anxious for it to be on its way north.

“Perhaps it is just as well,” I said. “Then, if all goes well, Marcus and Phoebe

can leave with you tomorrow.”

“If all goes well?” asked Boots.

“You need not assist me, of course,” I said to Marcus.

“I will assist you,” he said.

“My thanks,” I said.

“What of you?” asked Boots.

“Do not concern yourself with me,” I said.

“You are remaining in Ar?” asked Boots.

“For the time,” I said.

“If the fraudulent Home Stone is a plausible duplicate,” said Marcus, “it should

not matter too much. The substitution might never be discovered.”

“Ah,” said Boots, beaming. “But the substitution will be discovered, and

probably quite soon, doubtless within a few days at the most.”

“What?”Marcus.

“You do not wish the duplicate to be a plausible duplicate,” said Boots. “If it

were, Seremides, and the Ubara, and their minions, could pretend it is still the

Home Stone of Ar’s Station. Indeed, they might challenge the authenticity of the

stone which reaches Port Cos, should we make it that far.”

Marcus regarded him, astonished.

“It must be clear to everyone,” said Boots, “that the true Home Stone of Ar’s

Station has been snatched from under their very noses.”

“Such things would surely weaken the grip of Cos in the city,” I said. “Such

things would surely give heart to Ar. Indeed, such things have toppled regimes.”

“I have made certain that there are many small discrepancies between the

original and the copy,” said Boots, “but mostly they are such as would be

noticed only by one quite familiar with the Home Stone of Ar’s Station.”

“And few of Ar’s Station are in Ar,” said Marcus, “and of those of Ar’s Station

who might be in Ar, presumably few would approach their Home Stone under these

circumstances, when expected to revile it.”

“And if they did notice these differences,” said Boots, “one (pg. 408) might

plausibly suppose they would not hasten to bring them to the attention of the

guardsmen.”

“I would think not,” smiled Marcus.

“But then,” I said, “if these differences are subtle, might not authenticity be

claimed for the fraudulent stone?”

“I can guarantee that it will not be,” said Boots.

“How can you guarantee that?” I asked.

“If you have noticed,” said Boots, “and I certainly have, for I made it a point

to note such things, and over a period of several days, almost no one touches

the Home Stone. I was very unusual in picking it up and handling it. It is flat,

and it lies on its board.”

“Yes?” I said.

“So I took the liberty,” he said, “I the fraudulent stone, of cutting a message

into its under surface, and, indeed, of even coloring the lettering.”

“What is the message?” I asked.

“It is simple,” said Boots. “It says ‘I am not the Home Stone of Ar’s Station.’

”

“That seems clear enough,” I said.

“And I took the further liberty,” said Boots, “of adding an additional remark.”

“What was that?” I asked.

“ ‘Down with Cos,’ ” he said.

“Flee now,” said Marcus, in dismay.

“But think,” said Boots. “If you were in the guard, and you discovered that the

stone was fraudulent, surely you would fear either that the stone had been

stolen in your watch, or would be thought to have been stolen in your watch.”

“Yes!” I said.

“Accordingly,” said Boots. “It seems to me more likely that the guards would

manage to overlook the matter, and turn over the stone to the next watch, as

though nothing were amiss, thus letting the next watch, or the next, and so on,

worry about the matter. Certainly it would be embarrassing, if not absolutely

dangerous, to have the substitution discovered during, or at the end, of one’s

tour of duty.”

“You are a clever fellow, Boots,” I said.

“Also, the guards are mostly fellows of Ar,” said Boots. “Thus I do not think

they would take the same offense or manifest the same zeal in these matters as

might be expected of Cosians.”

“They might even relish the matter,” I said.

“Possibly,” said Boots. “On the other hand, I do not think (pg. 409) they,

either, would be eager for the substitution to be discovered on their watch.”

“No,” I said. “I would not think so.”

“Accordingly,” said Boots, “I think we need not fear that the substitution will

be too promptly discovered.”

“Or, at any rate,” I said, “too promptly reported.”

“Precisely,” smiled Boots.

“You will arrange your rendezvous tomorrow evening with Marcus?” I asked.

“Of course,” said Boots.

I pressed a heavy purse into the hands of Boots Tarsk-Bit.

“The weight of this suggests a great many copper tarsks,” said Boots, surprised.

“Count it later,” I said. “Conceal it now.”

“My robe does contain a few interior pockets,” he said. The purse disappeared

inside the robe.

“I shall not enter the details of this,” I said, “but in the north, last summer,

in virtue of an unusual combination of circumstances, Marcus came into the

possession of a large fortune, one hundred pieces of gold.”

“One hundred?” asked Boots, startled.

“Yes,” I said, rather pleased that I had, for once, managed to startle the greet

Boots Tarsk-Bit, or Renato, the Great, as he now called himself.

“But he gave me the hundred pieces of gold,” I said, “for a slave.”

Boots regarded Marcus, aghast.

“She is worth ten thousand, and more,” said Marcus, defensively.

“It is not that he is really insane,” I said. “There are special circumstances

involved.”

“Too,” said Marcus, angrily, “I did not know at the time that she was a Cosian!”

“That does make a great deal of difference,” said Boots.

“Else a copper tarsk or two might have been too much,” said Marcus.

“Doubtless,” said Boots.

“You see,” I said, “there are special considerations here. You note the

discrepancy between, say, ten thousand pieces of gold, or more, and one or two

copper tarsks.”

“She is not for sale, anyway, for any price,” said Marcus.

“Though I am not of the scribes,” said Boots, “I did note the discrepancy.”

“And that is how I obtained one hundred pieces of gold in the north,” I said.

(pg. 410) “And you wish to convey this paragon of beauty to the north?” asked

Boots.

“You do not object, do you?” I asked.

“Certainly not,” said Boots. “After all, that will give us something to do in

leisure moments, fighting off armies from all directions, fending away clouds of

mercenaries, battling hands of brigands, attempting to turn back innumerable

waves of eager, lustful ruffians, and such.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“I do,” said Marcus, pleased.

“I agreed to transport a Home Stone to Port Cos,” said Boots, “not to risk

traveling with one of the most fabulously desirable and beautiful women on Gor

in my train.”

“She is certainly that,” agreed Marcus. “You could always keep her in a box, or

sack.

“I am certainly eager to see this slave,” said Boots.

“Despite the convictions and the enthusiasm of Marcus in this matter,” I said,