Maske: Thaery (7 page)

“Make absolutely certain. I hold you responsible, and you still have not heard the last of this.”

“Be tolerant, Nobilissimus! I acted on the strength of your name!”

“You insult me,” said Nai the Hever. “Disconnect.” He turned to Jubal, a sardonic twist to his lips. “You are safe from official justice.”

“What of the magistrate Delglas Ymph?”

“His case will be considered by the proper agency. You may consider the case closed.”

To his annoyance Jubal found that he had nothing more to say. In some perplexing fashion advantage had again eluded his grasp. He rose to his feet. “In that case I had best be pursuing my ‘career’. In the meantime, I am to restrain this warrant until you have made inquiries and clarified the matter to me.”

“That is the essence of the matter,” said Nai the Hever in his driest voice. He touched the toggle. “Eyvant Dasduke.”

Eyvant entered the room. Nai the Hever said: “We have come to an understanding. Take Jubal Droad to the orientation officer, that he may begin his training. Let us hope that there are no more interruptions, since already his pay has been diminished by the value of one half day.”

“What!” roared Jubal. “My miserable seventeen toldecks?”

Eyvant said smoothly: “The Department holds itself rigidly separate from its operatives’ private lives.

Your pay starts when you report for duty.”

“So be it,” sighed Jubal. “Please conduct me to my work before I fall in debt to the Department.”

In a musty hall deep in the Parloury basements Jubal received instruction from a pair of middle-aged men, of castes not immediately identifiable. Clary was the older and more sedate of the two; Vergaz, a wiry nervous man with a restless gaze, affected the ‘Windy Mountain’ hairstyle, close-cropped on top with side-tufts drawn through a series of gold beads.

Clary explained the theory of inspectorship. “Basically, the work is simple. You study the Complaint Ledger; you look; you measure; you smell. When in doubt, consult the Code. From time to time, say: ‘This will not do.’ If the innkeeper is sufficiently deferential; if his offenses are trivial, and not the same offenses of which he was previously warned; if his beer is sound and his beds soft: then you endorse his certificate. Otherwise, you plaster a great yellow seal across his door, and—ignoring bribes, threats and outcries—you roll smartly off on your ercycle.”

“All this seems well within my compass,” said Jubal. “Where do I obtain the ercycle?”

“It will be supplied, along with a valise, a day and night uniform, and a copy of the Regulatory Code. I touched upon the subject of bribes, and I do not recommend them, as they are a poisonous solace. Your pay, a meager twenty-four toldecks though it may be—”

“Seventeen toldecks.”

“—is far more comfortable money. A bribe is usually discovered; you are rebuked and humiliated. If not, the innkeeper takes a high hand and serves you bramble wine and the dry end of the joint.”

“No innkeeper would dare suborn a Glint.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Clary. “Still, innkeepers are a mettlesome lot. Here is your Code; assimilate as much as necessary, and keep it at the ready, like a warrior with his weapon. And that is the sum of it!

You are now a Junior Assistant Inspector, except for a few incidental techniques which Vergaz will demonstrate.”

Jubal heaved a grateful sigh. “I had feared that the course might be tedious.”

“Not at all! Now, in regard to these incidental techniques, we might as well commence with calisthenics.”

On the following day Vergaz told Jubal: “We must prepare you for every phase of your work. Innkeepers, as a group, are unpredictable. Often, when an inspector condemns an innkeeper’s drains, or faults his cuisine, or perhaps only speaks a cordial word to his daughter, the innkeeper reacts with paranoid excitement, and the inspector must know a few simple tricks of both defense and retaliation. Over the centuries we have evolved a secret system which is never revealed to the general public. For example, aim a blow at my face. Come now, in earnest!”

Three weeks later Jubal protested: “I had no idea so much agility and unprincipled cunning was demanded of an inspector.”

“You have learned the merest rudiments,” said Vergaz. “For instance—” his eyes shifted across the room; his expression changed. “Ah, Nobilissimus!”

Jubal looked around, only to receive a kick in the backside.

“Just so,” said Vergaz. “An inspector should never allow his attention to be distracted. A favorite trick of the innkeeper is to keep the inspector chatting over a bottle of spirits while scullions scour the kitchen, and empty pots of illicit offal.”

“I will hold this in mind.”

Clary said: “It is also necessary to develop your mental powers. The brain is a remarkable organ which junior and assistant grades never use to best capacity. We will subdivide our exercises into categories.

First, acuity and awareness. Second, mnemonics. Third, precognition, intuition, telepathy and the like.

Fourth, simulation and dissimulation. Fifth, the techniques of persuasion and suggestion. Sixth, induction and deduction. So much is adequate to the seventeen-toldeck level. What time is it? Middle afternoon?

We might as well begin at once.” He looked across the room and his expression changed. “Nobilissimus!”

Jubal was not to be tricked the same way twice. “Ignore the old buffoon. Let him wait until we are finished for the day.”

“When you can spare the time,” said Nai the Hever, “I wish a few words with you.”

“Certainly,” said Jubal after a pause. “At your convenience.”

They departed the orientation chamber and entered an elevator which conveyed them to the fifth floor.

Nai the Hever led Jubal on a detour through a white-tiled corridor banded with dull metal strips. A light over the exit flashed blue. Nai the Hever nodded in satisfaction. “A signal that no eavesdrops, microphones, or beacons are concealed upon our persons.”

Jubal was more amused than impressed. “Who would eavesdrop upon us?”

“You ask a most profound question,” said Nai the Hever. “I can answer only this: strange events are occurring upon this world. Do you think Thaery a haven of placidity, a bucolic paradise? You are wrong.”

Leaving the white-tiled passage, he led the way to his office. “Please be seated.”

Jubal settled himself into a chair and waited politely while Nai the Hever looked over the messages which had been placed on his desk. He found nothing urgent and turned his attention upon Jubal. “Now—to business.”

“I take it,” said Jubal, “that you have fully analyzed the whole affair?”

Nai the Hever looked at him blankly. “What affair is this?”

“The illicit warrant solicited by your daughter against my person; what else?”

Nai the Hever considered. “Yes. That matter. It is not yet resolved. I made an inquiry or two, but elicited ambiguous information. In all candor I have been preoccupied with matters of large scope.” He raised his hand as Jubal started to make an indignant comment. “Quite so. We will talk of it another time.”

“It has already been three weeks!”

Nai the Hever’s voice took on an edge. “All will be arranged to your satisfaction. Now listen closely. As you may have divined, D3 is a complex organization. Occasionally we undertake inspections which might be considered unusual. These inspections are always secret, and our present conversation is confidential; you must never repeat it, in gist or otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Certainly.”

“One of these special inspections has now become necessary. I need a man of resource, tact and self-assurance. You are possessed, at least, of the latter. Are you willing to undertake this task?”

“For seventeen toldecks a week? No.”

“The compensation will be adequate.”

“In that case I will be glad to listen.”

“It is a job which should gratify your savage Glint vindictiveness. I take it that you are not reconciled to Ramus Ymph?”

“A man who twice has attempted my life? Why have you not tracked down the responsibility for this warrant, so that I might act?”

“This is not presently consequential. Listen.” Nai the Hever leaned his elbows on the desk and knit his pale fingers. “Your information warned us of Ramus Ymph’s off-planet activities. My misgivings were instantly aroused and I placed Ramus Ymph under close surveillance.

“One week ago Ramus Ymph covertly departed Wysrod. He flew to Tissano, then rode ercycle south through Isedel, making continual efforts at stealth. Near Ivo, during the dead of night, he slipped across the border into Djanad, and we were unable to track him further, but radar reported the passage of an object into space.

“In short, Ramus Ymph has once more departed Maske: presumably to the place he visited before. The clothes you supplied have been exhaustively studied and our experts trace them to a certain world of the Gaean Reach. So now—what next?”

“I would not presume to advise you.”

“We might ask Ramus Ymph for the facts,” said Nai the Hever. “Two objections mar the elegant simplicity of this plan. First, the Ymphs are a powerful ilk, whom I do not care to antagonize. In fact, I struggle constantly to appease them. Secondly, putting questions to Ramus Ymph might well bar us from a much larger knowledge. Therefore I have decided that inquiries should be made on the scene. It is a task which falls within your competence, and you shall make this inquiry.”

For all his speculations Jubal had expected nothing so remarkable. After a moment he asked: “Why do you select me for this job?”

Nai the Hever made an urbane gesture. “You are strongly motivated; you know something of the background; you show a marked investigative talent. These facts compensate to some extent for your inexperience. Also, we are reluctant to use other inspectors, whose loss, let us say, might cause us inconvenience.”

“I do not care for suicide any more than these other inspectors,” said Jubal.

“Quite possibly there will be no risk whatever,” said Nai the Hever. “You will of course be thoroughly briefed and transportation will be provided. Additionally—yes, yes! Do not anticipate! You will receive a suitable compensation.”

“Just what do you have in mind? A raise to twenty toldecks?”

“Of course not. Promotions do not come so easily. I propose a lump sum payment of, let us say, five hundred toldecks upon the successful completion of your mission.”

Jubal showed a grin of derision. “If I were a fool enough to take your proposition seriously, I would insist upon altering the terms. The word ‘successful’ would be omitted and ‘five hundred’ changed to ‘ten thousand’. You would pay me five thousand toldecks before I left Wysrod and another five thousand upon my return, before I so much as made my report.”

Nai the Hever leaned back, his face pale and brooding. “Ten thousand toldecks? For a journey most folk would pay to enjoy? Your avarice is really grandiose!”

“What is ten thousand toldecks to you? I will be paid from public funds. There is clearly dire risk to this mission. My life is precious to me, if not to you. Send Eyvant Dasduke; he’ll go for five hundred toldecks, and I’ll take over his job.”

“The figure,” intoned Nai the Hever, “will be based upon two thousand toldecks, plus a bonus of two thousand toldecks if you produce valuable results. That is a generous, definite and final offer. Accept or return to your sewer inspecting.”

“I might more readily accept,” said Jubal, “if you had resolved that other affair. I have suffered the capricious cruelty of your daughter—”

“Your terms are probably not accurate.”

“‘Probably’! Why haven’t you discovered the truth?”

“I have been busy with other matters. If you are so interested, ask her yourself.”

Jubal snorted. “When? How? Where? She would refuse to see me, much less answer my questions.”

“We will clarify this matter once and for all,” said Nai the Hever. “Come to Hever House this evening, at sundown. Present yourself at the side entrance. I assure you that the Lady Mieltrude will respond to your questions.”

At a wineshop Jubal considered the extraordinary proposal made by Nai the Hever… A concept took shape in his mind, so obvious, so natural, so monstrous, that he sat back stunned.

An hour passed, and another; Mora sank down the sky. Jubal returned to his lodgings, in one of the crooked lanes behind the Parloury. Somberly he arrayed himself in his none-too-splendid best. From the commode he took the gray steel blade given him at his boyhood rite, wet with three bloods. The blade had a secret name:
Saerq
—‘Mountain Wind’; it was an unusually heavy weapon, of crystallized steel strengthened by a lattice of iron threads, balanced evenly for throwing. Jubal hefted the blade on his palm, then fixing the sheath to the inside of his waist-band, hung the comforting weight of Saerq along his thigh.

The time still lacked an hour to sunset. Seating himself at the table, Jubal carefully composed a document, which he folded and tucked into his pocket.

Mora now hung low in the west. Jubal went down to the street and hailed a hack. “To Hever House, along the Cham.”

Along crooked lanes, overhung by tall crabbed gables, up one of the boulevards into the hills, around to the Cham and so to Hever House. Jubal walked under the entrance arch, sauntered up the steps to the stately main portal. The twin doors slid aside; Flanish the major-domo hurried forward. He recognized Jubal. “Please, sir, what is it this time?”

Jubal stepped into the foyer and Flanish was forced to give ground. “Announce me, if you please, to the Nobilissimus,” said Jubal. “I am expected.”

Flanish hesitated. “What name shall I announce?”

“I am the Honorable Jubal Droad; where is your memory?”

Flanish signaled a footman and whispered a word in his ear. With a resentful glance from the corner of his eye toward Jubal he marched from the room. The footman stood by the wall, unobtrusively keeping Jubal under surveillance.

Five minutes passed. Nai the Hever appeared, in casual gray evening dress. He surveyed Jubal with barely concealed annoyance. “I believe that I asked you to use the side entrance.”

“As you know, I am a Glint,” said Jubal. “I use no man’s side entrance.”

“This is Wysrod, not Glentlin, and we must make concessions to local propriety.”

“If you recall,” said Jubal, “I am here to discuss a matter of propriety: a criminal act committed by your daughter. She is the one who should use the side door, not I.”

Nai the Hever made a small crisp gesture. “Come, let us make an end to this sorry affair. Flanish, ask Lady Mieltrude to join us in the small salon.” And to Jubal: “This way, please.” He led Jubal into a room hung with a pair of magnificent Djan tapestries: jungle landscapes woven of violet, green and dark red filaments. A white carpet muffled the floor; a pair of ancient Djan pots rested on an ivorywood table. Nai the Hever remained standing, nor did he invite Jubal to sit. A minute passed. Nai the Hever spoke casually: “I am accustomed to informality; in my position I deal with persons of every caste. The Lady Mieltrude, on the other hand, is quite conventional; she allows considerations of decorum to influence her conduct, so be guided.”

Jubal’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Can you not understand that your daughter has committed a vicious crime? Do you consider this decorous conduct?”

“We shortly will hear the Lady Mieltrude’s views on the matter. I emphasize that she will respond only to correct behavior.”

“Perhaps then you would prefer to question her.”

“Not at all,” said Nai the Hever. “You are anxious to learn certain facts. This is a reasonable request; I acquiesce. But I am not here to assist your inquisition.”