Store of the Worlds: The Stories of Robert Sheckley (42 page)

To be sure, a language like Hon was rather a bore because of the long word-lists one had to memorize. But pitch and position could be fun, as well as being absolutely essential if one wanted to make any sense out of the sentence units. So, taken all in all, Jackson was not dissatisfied, and he absorbed the language as quickly as it could be given to him.

It was a proud day for Jackson, about a week later, when he could say to his tutor: “A very nice and pleasant good morning to you, most estimable and honored tutor, and how is your blessed health upon this glorious day?”

“Felicitations most
ird wunk
!” the tutor replied with a smile of deep warmth. “Your accent, dear pupil, is superb! Positively
gor nak
, in fact, and your grasp of my dear mother tongue is little short of
ur nak tai
.”

Jackson glowed all over from the gentle old tutor's compliments. He felt quite pleased with himself. Of course, he hadn't recognized several words;
ird wunk
and
ur nak tai
sounded faintly familiar, but
gor nak
was completely unknown. Still, lapses were expected of a beginner in any language. He did know enough to understand the Naians and to make himself understood by them. And that was what his job required.

He returned to his spaceship that afternoon. The hatch had been standing open during his entire stay on Na, but he found that not a single article had been stolen. He shook his head ruefully at this but refused to let it upset him. He loaded his pockets with a variety of objects and sauntered back to the city. He was ready to perform the final and most important part of his job.

In the heart of the business district, at the intersection of Um and Alhretto, he found what he was looking for: a real-estate office. He entered and was taken to the office of Mr. Erum, a junior partner of the firm.

“Well, well, well, well!” Erum said, shaking hands heartily. “This is a real honor, sir, a very considerable and genuine privilege. Are you thinking of acquiring a piece of property?”

“That was my intention,” Jackson said. “Unless, of course, you have discriminatory laws that forbid your selling to a foreigner.”

“No difficulty there,” Erum said. “In fact, it'll be a veritable
orai
of a pleasure to have a man from your distant and glorious civilization in our midst.”

Jackson restrained a snicker. “The only other difficulty I can imagine is the question of legal tender. I don't have any of your currency, of course; but I have certain quantities of gold, platinum, diamonds, and other objects which are considered valuable on Earth.”

“They are considered valuable here, too,” Erum said. “Quantities, did you say? My dear sir, we will have no difficulties; not even a
blaggle
shall
mit
or
ows
, as the poet said.”

“Quite so,” Jackson replied. Erum was using some words he didn't know, but that didn't matter. The main drift was clear enough. “Now, suppose we begin with a nice industrial site. After all, I'll have to do something with my time. And after that, we can pick out a house.”

“Most decidedly
prominex
,” Erum said gaily. “Suppose I just
raish
through my listings here ... Yes, what do you say to a
bromicaine
factory? It's in a first-class condition and could easily be converted to
vor
manufacture or used as it is.”

“Is there any real market for
bromicaine
?” Jackson asked.

“Well, bless my
muergentan
, of course there is!
Bromicaine
is indispensable, though its sales are seasonable. You see, refined
bromicaine
, or
ariisi
, is used by the
protigash
devolvers, who of course harvest by the solstice season, except in those branches of the industry that have switched over to
ticothene revature
. Those from a steadily—”

“Fine, fine,” Jackson said. He didn't care what a
bromicaine
was and never expected to see one. As long as it was a gainful employment of some kind, it filled his specifications.

“I'll buy it,” he said.

“You won't regret it,” Erum told him. “A good
bromicaine
factory is a
garveldis hagatis
, and
menifoy
as well.”

“Sure,” Jackson said, wishing that he had a more extensive Hon vocabulary. “How much?”

“Well, sir, the price is no difficulty. But first you'll have to fill out the
ollanbrit
form. It is just a few
sken
questions which
ny naga
of everyone.”

Erum handed Jackson the form. The first question read: “Have you, now or at any past time,
elikated mushkies forsically
? State date of all occurrences. If no occurrences, state the reason for
transgrishal reduct
as found.”

Jackson read no further. “What does it mean,” he asked Erum, “to
elikate mushkies forsically
?”

“Mean?” Erum smiled uncertainly. “Why, it means exactly what it says. Or so I would imagine.”

“I meant,” Jackson said, “that I do not understand the words. Could you explain them to me?”

“Nothing simpler, Erum replied. “To
elikate mushkies
is almost the same as a
bifur probishkai
.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jackson said.

“It means—well, to
elikate
is really rather simple, though perhaps not in the eyes of the law.
Scorbadising
is a form of
elikation
, and so is
manruv garing
. Some say that when we breathe
drorsically
in the evening
subsis
, we are actually
elikating
. Personally, I consider that a bit fanciful.”

“Let's try
mushkies
,” Jackson suggested.

“By all means, let's!” Erum replied, with a coarse boom of laughter. “If only one could—eh!” He dug Jackson in the ribs with a sly elbow.

“Hm, yes,” Jackson replied coldly. “Perhaps you could tell me what, exactly, a
mushkie
is?”

“Of course. As it happens, there is no such thing,” Erum replied. “Not in the singular, at any rate. One
mushkie
would be a logical fallacy, don't you see?”

“I'll take your word for it. What
are mushkies
?”

“Well, primarily, they're the object of
elikation
. Secondarily, they are half-sized wooden sandals which are used to stimulate erotic fantasies among the Kutor religionists.”

“Now we're getting someplace!” Jackson cried.

“Only if your tastes happen to run that way,” Erum answered with discernible coldness.

“I meant in terms of understanding the question on the form—”

“Of course, excuse me,” Erum said. “But you see, the question asks if you have ever
elikated mushkies forsically
. And that makes all the difference.”

“Does it really?”

“Of course! The modification changes the entire meaning.”

“I was afraid that it would,” Jackson said. “I don't suppose you could explain what
forsically
means?”

“I certainly can!” Erum said. “Our conversation now could—with a slight assist from the
deme
imagination—be termed a ‘
forsically designed
talk.'”

“Ah,” said Jackson.

“Quite so,” said Erum. “
Forsically
is a mode, a manner. It means ‘spiritually-forward-leading-by-way-of-fortuitous-friendship.'”

“That's a little more like it,” Jackson said. “In that case, when one
elikates mushkies forsically
—”

“I'm terribly afraid you're on the wrong track,” Erum said. “The definition I gave you applies only to conversations. It is something rather different when one speaks of
mushkies
.”

“What does it mean then?”

“Well, it means—or rather it
expresses
—an advanced and intensified case of
mushkie elikidation
, but with a definite
nmogmetic
bias. I consider it a rather unfortunate phraseology, personally.”

“How would you put it?”

“I'd lay it on the line and to hell with the fancy talk,” Erum said toughly. “I'd come right out and say: ‘Have you now or at any other time
dunfiglers voc
in illegal, immoral, or
insirtis
circumstances, with or without the aid and/or consent of a
brachniian
? If so, state when and why. If not, state
neugris kris
and why not.'”

“That's how you'd put it, huh?” Jackson said.

“Sure, I would,” Erum said defiantly. “These forms are for adults, aren't they? So why not come right out and call a
spigler
a
spey
? Everybody
dunfiglers voc
some of the time, and so what? No one's feelings are ever hurt by it, for heaven's sake. I mean, after all, it simply involves oneself and a twisted old piece of wood, so why should anyone care?”

“Wood?” Jackson echoed.

“Yes,
wood
. A commonplace, dirty old piece of wood. Or at least that's all it would be if people didn't get their feelings so ridiculously involved.”

“What do they do with the wood?” Jackson asked quickly.

“
Do
with it? Nothing much, when you come right down to it. But the religious aura is simply too much for our so-called intellectuals. They are unable, in my opinion, to isolate the simple primordial fact—
wood
—from the cultural
volturneiss
which surrounds it at
festerhiss
, and to some extent at
uuis
, too.”

“That's how intellectuals are,” Jackson said. “But
you
can isolate it, and you find—”

“I find it's really nothing to get excited about. I really mean that. I mean to say that a cathedral, viewed correctly, is no more than a pile of rocks, and a forest is just an assembly of atoms. Why should we see this case differently? I mean, really, you could
elikate mushkies forsically
without even
using
wood! What do you think of that?”

“I'm impressed,” Jackson said.

“Don't get me wrong! I'm not saying it would be
easy
, or natural, or even
right
. But still, you damned well could! Why, you could substitute
cormed grayti
and still come out all right!” Erum paused and chuckled. “You'd look foolish, but you'd still come out all right.”

“Very interesting,” Jackson said.

“I'm afraid I became a bit vehement,” Erum said, wiping his forehead. “Was I talking very loudly? Do you think perhaps I was overheard?”

“Of course not. I found it all very interesting. I must leave just now, Mr. Erum, but I'll be back tomorrow to fill out that form and buy the property.”

“I'll hold it for you,” Erum said, rising and shaking Jackson's hand warmly. “And I want to thank you. It isn't often that I have the opportunity for this kind of frank no-holds-barred conversation.”

“I found it very instructive,” Jackson said. He left Erum's office and walked slowly back to his ship. He was disturbed, upset, and annoyed. Linguistic incomprehension irked him, no matter how comprehensible it might be. He
should
have been able to figure out, somehow, how one went about
elikating mushkies forsically
.

Never mind, he told himself. You'll work it out tonight, Jackson baby, and then you'll go back in there and cannonball through them forms. So don't get het up over it, man.

He'd work it out. He damned well had to work it out, as he had to own a piece of property.

That was the second part of his job.

Earth had come a long way since the bad old days of naked, aggressive warfare. According to the history books, a ruler back in those ancient times could simply send out his troops to seize whatever the ruler wanted. And if any of the folks at home had the temerity to ask why he wanted it, the ruler could have them beheaded or locked up in a dungeon or sewn up in a sack and thrown into the sea. And he wouldn't even feel guilty about doing any of those things because he invariably believed that he was right and they were wrong.

This policy, technically called the
droit de seigneur
, was one of the most remarkable features of the
laissez-faire capitalism
which the ancients knew.

But, down the slow passage of centuries, cultural processes were inexorably at work. A new ethic came into the world; and slowly but surely, a sense of fair play and justice was bred into the human race. Rulers came to be chosen by ballot and were responsive to the desires of the electorate. Conceptions of Justice, Mercy, and Pity came to the forefront of men's minds, ameliorating the old law of tooth and talon and amending the savage bestiality of the ancient time of unreconstruction.

The old days were gone for ever. Today, no ruler could simply
take
; the voters would never stand for it.

Nowadays one had to have an excuse for taking.

Like for example a Terran citizen who happened to own property all legal and aboveboard on an alien planet, and who urgently needed and requested Terran military assistance in order to protect himself, his home, his means of a legitimate livelihood ...

But first he had to own that property. He had to really own it, to protect himself from the bleeding-hearts Congressmen and the soft-on-aliens newsmen who always started an investigation whenever Earth took charge of another planet.

To provide a legal basis for conquest—that was what the contactors were for.

“Jackson,” Jackson said to himself, “you gonna git yourself that li'l ole
bromicaine
factory tomorrow and you gonna own it without let or hindrance. You heah me, boy? I mean it sincerely.”

On the morrow, shortly before noon, Jackson was back in the city. Several hours of intensive study and a long consultation with his tutor had sufficed to show him where he had gone wrong.