The Asutra (21 page)

Etzwane, preoccupied with a hundred anxieties, looked across the compound, trying to contrive a remark suitably noncommittal. He said, somewhat curtly, "On this world a pretty girl is a freak."

"Ah! I wish then I were a freak! So long ago, when the men reached to tweak off my little cap, I was happy, even though I pretended displeasure. But now, if I were to dance naked in the compound, who would look at me?"

"You would still attract attention," said Etzwane. "Especially if you danced well."

"You mock me," said Rune sorrowfully. "Why cannot you offer me some consolation: a touch or a smiling glance? You make me feel squat and ugly."

"I have no such intention," said Etzwane. "You may be assured of this. But please excuse me; I must see to our preparations."

Two days went past, with tension increasing every hour. On the morning of the third day a disk-ship slid up the coast from the south and hovered over the camp. There was no need for alarms or exhortations; the men were already at their stations.

The ship hovered, hanging on a humming web of vibration. Etzwane, in the garage, watched with clammy sweat on his body, wondering which of many circumstances would go wrong.

From the ship came a mellow hooting, which after an interval reverberated back from the hill.

The sound died, the ship hovered. Etzwane held his breath until his lungs ached.

The ship moved, and slowly descended to the landing field. Etzwane exhaled and leaned forward. This now was the time of crisis.

The ship touched the ground, which visibly subsided under the mass of the ship. A minute passed, two minutes. Etzwane wondered if those aboard had perceived an incorrectness, the absence of some formality. ... The port opened; a ramp slid to the soil. Down came two Ka, asutra riding their necks like small black jockeys. They halted at the base of the ramp, looked across the compound. Two more Ka descended the ramp, and the four stood as if waiting.

A pair of drays set out from the warehouse: the usual procedure when a ship landed. They swerved to pass close to the ramp. Etzwane and three men came forth from the garage, to walk with simulated purposelessness toward the ship. From other areas of the yard other small groups of men converged upon the ship.

The first dray halted; four men stepped down and suddenly leapt upon the Ka. From the second dray four other men brought thongs; there would be only needful killing, lest they be left with a ship and no one to navigate. While the group struggled at the foot of the ramp, Etzwane and his men ran up the ramp and into the ship.

The ship carried a crew of fourteen Ka and several dozens of asutra, some in trays like that which Etzwane and Ifness had found in the wreck under Thrie Orgai. Except for the scuffle at the foot of the ramp, neither Ka nor asutra offered resistance. The Ka had seemed paralyzed by surprise, or perhaps apathetic; there was no comprehending their emotions. The asutra were as opaque as flint. Again the rebel slaves felt the frustration of overexertion, of striking out with all force and encountering only air. They felt relieved but cheated, triumphant yet seething with unrelieved tension.

The great central hold contained, almost four hundred men and women. These were of all ages and conditions, but in general seemed of poor quality, spiritless and defeated.

Etzwane wasted no time upon the folk in the hold; he gathered the Ka and their asutra in the control dome and brought up Kretzel. "Tell them this," said Etzwane, "and make sure that they comprehend exactly. We want to return to Durdane. This is what we require of them: transportation to our home-world. We will tolerate nothing less. Tell them that when we arrive at our destination, then we will make no further demands upon them; they may have their lives and their ship. If they refuse to take us to Durdane, we will destroy them without mercy."

Kretzel frowned and licked her lips, then brought forth her pipes and played Etzwane's message.

The Ka stood unresponsive. Etzwane asked anxiously, "Do they understand?"

"They understand," said Kretzel. "They have already decided what their answer will be. This is a ceremonial silence."

One of the Ka addressed Kretzel in a set of careful First Style tones, delivered in a manner so offhand as to seem condescending or even derisive.

Kretzel said to Etzwane, They will take you to Durdane. The ship departs at once."

"Ask if sufficient food and drink are aboard."

Kretzel obeyed and elicited a reply. "He says that provisions are naturally adequate for the journey."

"Tell them one thing further. We have brought torpedoes aboard the ship. If they try to deceive us, we will all blow up together."

Kretzel played her double-pipes; the Ka turned away without interest

Etzwane had known many triumphs and joys during the course of his life, but never exhilaration such as now, on this journey back from the dark world Kahei. He felt tired but he could not sleep. He distrusted the Ka, he feared the asutra; he could not believe that his victory was final. Of the other men he felt confidence only in Korba, and he made certain that he and Korba never slept at the same time. To maintain a spirit of vigilance, he warned that the asutra were devious, that they did not readily accept defeat; privately he was sure that victory had been won. In his experience the asutra were impassive realists, unaffected by considerations of malice or revenge. When the Roguskhoi had been defeated in Shant, the asutra might easily have destroyed Garwiy and Brassei and Maschein with their energy bolts, but had not troubled to do so. Chances were good, thought Etzwane, that the impossible had been accomplished, and without the assistance of the ineffable Ifness, which added savor to the triumph.

Etzwane spent considerable time in the control dome. Through the ports nothing could be seen but dead blackness and an occasional streaming filament of spume. A panel depicted the outside sky; the stars were black disks on a luminous green field. A target circle enclosed three black dots, which daily grew larger; Etzwane assumed these to be Etta, Sassetta, and Zael.

Conditions in the hold were appalling. The cargo of men and women were ignorant of cleanliness, order, or sanitation; the hold stank like an abattoir. Etzwane learned that most of the folk had been born on Kahei and had known only the life of the slave camp. During the evolution of the Roguskhoi, macabre experiments had been part of their everyday routine; it had seemed the natural way of life. The asutra, whatever their virtues, displayed neither squeamishness nor pity, thought Etzwane, and perhaps these were emotions idiosyncratically human. Etzwane tried to feel compassion for the slave folk, but the stench and disorder in the hold made the task difficult. Once more on Durdane, these folk were destined for further misery. Some might wish themselves "back home " on the black world Kahei.

The ship coasted through open space. Above danced the three suns; below spread the gray-violet face of Durdane. As the ship descended, familiar contours passed below: the Beljamar and the Fortunate Isles, Shant and Palasedra, then the vast world-continent Caraz.

Etzwane identified the river Keba and Lake Nior. As the ship dropped lower, the Thrie Orgai and the river Vurush appeared. With Kretzel's assistance he directed the ship down to Shagfe. The ship landed on the slope south of the village. The ramps descended; the passengers tumbled, staggered, and crawled out upon the soil of their home-world, each clutching a parcel of food and as much good metal as he could carry: enough to assure a comfortable competence on metal-poor Durdane. Etzwane provided himself with thirty rods of glistening red alloy from the engine room: enough wealth, so he calculated, to bring him once again to Shant.

Ever distrustful, Etzwane insisted that the Ka come forth from the ship and remain until the folk had dispersed. "You have brought us here to Durdane, and now we are finished with you and your ship, but are you finished with us? I don't want to be destroyed by a purple lightning bolt that you discharge as soon as you have the capability."

Through Kretzel the Ka responded, "We don't care whether you live or die; leave the ship at once."

Etzwane said, "Either come out on the plain with us or we will remove your asutra, which you seem to revere so much. We have not suffered and hoped and striven to take foolish chances at the last moment."

Eight of the Ka at last went out on the plain. Etzwane, with a group of his men, led them a mile up the slope, then dismissed them. They trudged back to their ship while Etzwane and his companions sought shelter among the rocks. As soon as the eight were aboard, the ship lifted into the air. Etzwane watched it dwindle and vanish, then within himself the knowledge came: he had really returned to Durdane. His knees felt limp; he sat down upon a rock, weary as he had never been before in his life, and tears flowed from his eyes.

In Shagfe the advent of so many persons laden with wealth had created dislocations. Some drank copiously of Baba's cellar brew, others gambled with the Kash Blue-worms, who still haunted the vicinity. Throughout the night sounds of altercation could be heard: yells and curses, drunken sobs and cries of pain; and in the morning a dozen corpses were discovered. As soon as light came to the sky, groups set forth for their ancestral lands, to north, east, south, and west. The Alula, uttering no words of farewell to Etzwane, departed for Lake Nior. Rune the Willow Wand turned a single glance over her shoulder. Etzwane, meeting the gaze, found it unreadable. He watched them recede into the morning haze, then he went to find Baba the innkeeper.

"I have two matters to take up with you," said Etzwane. "First, where is Fabrache?"

Baba replied in vague terms. "Who is to trace the course of that loose-footed man? The slave trade is ruined. Old markets are gone and Hozman Sore-throat has disappeared; poverty stalks the land. As for Fabrache, when he appears you will see him; he is not a man for predictability."

I will not wait," said Etzwane, "which leads me to the second matter, my pacer. I desire that it be saddled and made ready for travel."

Baba's eyes protruded in wonder. 'Tour pacer? What prodigy of imagination is this? You own no pacer at my stables."

"But indeed I do," said Etzwane in a sharp voice. "My friend Ifness and I both left our pacers in your care. I, at least, now intend to resume possession."

Baba shook his head in wonder and raised his eyes piously to the sky. "In your own land odd customs may prevail, but here at Shagfe we are more practical. A gift once given may not be recalled."

"Gift, you say? " Etzwane's tone was grim. "Have you heard the tales told by the folk who brought you metal for cellar brew last night? How by our strength and will we won our way home to Caraz? Do you think that I am the kind of man to tolerate petty thievery? Bring me my pacer, or prepare for a remarkable thrashing."

Baba reached behind his bar and brought forth his cudgel. "A beating, is it? Listen to me, my cockscomb, I have not been Shagfe innkeeper without dealing a few beatings of my own, I assure you. Now leave these premises on the instant! "

From his pouch Etzwane brought the little weapon Ifness had given him so long ago: the energy gun he had carried to Kahei and back and never used. He pointed the gun at Baba's strongbox and touched the button. A flare, an explosion, a scream of horror, as Baba stared at the devastation which only a moment before had held a fortune in metal. Etzwane reached out, took his cudgel, and hit him across the back. "My pacer, and in haste."

Baba's fat face was lambent with fear and malice. "Already you have done me out of a lifetime's earnings! Do you wish the fruits of all my toil?"

"Never try to cheat an honest man," said Etzwane. "Another thief might sympathize with your goals; as for me, I want only my property."

In a voice nasal with rage Baba sent one of the yardboys to the stables. Etzwane went out into the inn-yard, where he found old Kretzel sitting on a bench. "What do you do here? " asked Etzwane. "I thought that you would be on your way to Elshuka Pond."

"The way is long," said Kretzel, pulling the tattered cloak about her shoulders. "I have a few bits of metal, enough to keep food in my mouth for a period. When the metal is gone I shall start my journey south, though surely I will never arrive at the grass meadows above the pond. And if I did, who would remember the little girl who was stolen by Molsk?"

"What of the Great Song? How many people of Shagfe will understand when you play your pipes?"

Kretzel huddled her old shoulders into the sunlight's warmth. "It is a great epic: the history of a far world. Perhaps I will forget, but perhaps not, and sometimes when I sit here in the sun I will play the pipes, but no one will know the great deeds I relate."

The pacer was led forth: a creature by no means as sound as that Etzwane had brought to Shagfe, with gear somewhat worn and makeshift. Etzwane pointed out these facts, and the boy brought him out sacks of meal and a bladder of cellar brew for the journey.

Standing by the side of the inn Etzwane saw a familiar face: it belonged to Gulshe, who watched his preparations with a lowering intensity. Gulshe would make an efficient guide, reflected Etzwane, but what of the times when Etzwane slept and Gulshe kept watch? The prospect caused Etzwane to shudder. He gave Gulshe a polite salute and mounted his pacer. For a moment he looked down upon old Kretzel, her head stored with wonderful knowledge. He never would see her again, and with her would die the history of a world. . . . Kretzel looked up; their gazes met. Etzwane turned away, his eyes again full of tears. He departed Shagfe, and against his back he felt Gulshe's stare and Kretzel's farewell.