The Asutra (22 page)

Four days later Etzwane rode over a jutting sandstone crest and looked down on the flowing Keba. Shillinsk, by his rough reckoning, should He somewhat south, for he had lost his way crossing the Plain of Blue Flowers. He looked up the Keba shore and five miles south spied the Shillinsk dock. He turned the pacer down the slope and rode south.

The Shillinsk Inn was as he had remembered it. Neither cargo vessel nor barge was moored alongside the dock, but Etzwane felt no great impatience; the tranquility of Shillinsk was a thing to be enjoyed in itself.

He entered the inn to find the landlord polishing the surface of his counter with a bag of rottenstone and a greasy square of chumpa-skin. He failed to recognize Etzwane, for which Etzwane felt no surprise. In his ragged garments he was a far remove from that spruce Gastel Etzwane who had come to Shillinsk with Ifness.

"You will not remember me," said Etzwane, "but some months ago I came here with the sorcerer Ifness in his magic boat. You were the victim of an unpleasant incident, as I recall. " The landlord grimaced. "Do not bring such matters to my attention. The sorcerer Ifness is a man to be feared. When will he come for his boat? It floats yonder on the water."

Etzwane stared in surprise. "Ifness has not taken his boat?"

"Look through the doorway; you will see it, exactly as you left it. " And he added virtuously, "I have kept the craft secure and unmolested, as I was charged."

"Well done. " Etzwane was greatly pleased; he had watched Ifness at the controls; he knew the use of the dials and also knew how to board the boat without suffering an electric shock. He indicated the pacer. "For your trouble I hereby make you the gift of yonder pacer, with his saddle. I require only a meal and lodging for the night; tomorrow I sail away in the magic boat."

"You will take it to Ifness?"

"In all truth, I can't imagine what has happened to him. I expected that he would have come to Shillinsk long ago and taken the boat himself. . . . No doubt, if he requires either me or the boat, he will know where to find me—if he is still alive."

If Ifness were still alive. Between Shagfe and Shillinsk lay a hundred dangers: chumpa, bands of crazy ahulph, robber tribes, and slavers. Ifness might have fallen victim to any of these, and all of Etzwane's hard thoughts might be unjustified. . . . Should he go forth to seek Ifness? Etzwane heaved a long sigh. Caraz was vast. It would be an exercise in futility.

The landlord prepared a savory supper of river fish poached in a tart green sauce, and Etzwane walked out on the dock to watch purple dusk fall over the water. Shant and the city Garwiy were much closer than he had hoped.

In the morning he rowed out to the boat in a skiff and gingerly prodded the guard-switch with a dry stick. Then even more gingerly he laid his finger on the gunwale. No shock, no coruscation of sparks like that which had flung the landlord into the river.

Etzwane tied the skiff to the mooring line and cast off. The current caught the boat and carried it north and out into the stream. He hoisted the sail; Shillinsk receded, and became a line of toy houses on the shore.

Now: the critical experiment. He opened the console and examined the line of knobs. Cautiously he twisted the "Ascensor. " Up rose the boat, gliding on the wind. Etzwane hurriedly lowered the sail lest a gust capsize him.

He tested the other knobs; the boat swung in a wide arc and flew east toward Shant

Below passed the dove-gray plains and dark-green swamps. Ahead glistened the Bobol River, and then the great Usak.

By night Etzwane reached the east coast and the Green Ocean. A few flickering yellow lights indicated a shoreside village; ahead the stars reflected on the water.

Etzwane slowed the boat, so that it drifted, and slept; and when dawn came, the land of Shant loomed along the horizon to the southeast.

Etzwane flew high above cantons Gitanesq and Fenesq, then descended toward the Sualle. The towers of Garwiy could barely be seen: a handful of glowing jewels. The shores closed in; fishing boats worked in the distance. Etzwane dropped the boat into the water. He hoisted the sail, and with the wind at his back, drove with a bubbling wake toward Garwiy.

The wind presently slackened and the boat moved more slowly over the placid water. Drowsing in the warmth, Etzwane could find no occasion for haste; indeed, the prospect of docking the boat and stepping ashore aroused in him a curious mood of melancholy. The adventure would then be definitely finished; for all its misery and black despair, he had lived to his utmost capacity; he had augmented and enriched his life.

Across the halcyon water sailed the boat, and the towers of Garwiy reared above him like lords at a banquet. Along the shore Etzwane spied familiar sights: this building, that warehouse, and there the ramshackle old dock at which Ifness had moored his boat. Etzwane swung the tiller, the boat gurgled through the water. Etzwane dropped the sail; the boat coasted quietly to the pier.

Etzwane made the boat secure, then walked up into the road and hailed a diligence. The driver looked him over with misgivings. "Well, then, why do you stop me? I have nothing to give; go to the public hospital for your alms."

"I want no alms; I want transportation," said Etzwane. He climbed into the diligence. "Take me to Fontenay's Inn, on Galias Avenue."

"You have money?"

"Not in these garments. At Fontenay's you will be paid; accept my word for this."

The driver flicked the pacer into motion. Etzwane called up to him, "What has been happening in Garwiy? I have been away for months."

"Nothing of any great moment. The Green and Purple have weighed us down with taxes; they are more ambitious with their schemes than was the Anome. .. . I like air at my neck instead of the torc, but now the Green and Purple want me to pay for my liberty. Which is better: cheap submission or expensive independence?"

Through the dusk rolled the diligence, along streets which seemed quaint and small, dearly familiar and somehow remote. On Kahei, Garwiy had seemed a dream—yet it existed. Here in Garwiy, Kahei had become an abstraction—and it too existed. Elsewhere was the world of the black globe-ships with the human crews. He would never learn the actuality of this world.

The diligence halted before Fontenay's Inn; the driver looked truculently down at Etzwane. "Now then, my money, if you please."

"One moment. " Etzwane went into the inn, to find Fontenay sitting at a table enjoying a flask of his own merchandise. Fontenay frowned at the ragged apparition, then recognizing Etzwane, uttered an ejaculation of astonishment. "What is this? Gastel Etzwane in rags for a charade?"

"No charade, but an adventure from which I have only now returned. Be so good as to pay off this importunate driver, then let me have a room, a bath, a barber, some fresh garments, and finally a good dinner."

"Nothing could give me more pleasure," said Fontenay. He snapped his fingers. "Heinel! Jared! See to Gastel Etzwane's convenience! " Fontenay turned back to Etzwane. "Can you guess who plays music on yonder bandstand? In half an hour he will arrive."

"Dystar the druithine? " "Alas, not Dystar! It is Frolitz and his Pink-Black-Azure-Deep Greeners."

"This is good news," said Etzwane from the depths of his heart. "I can think of no one I would rather see."

"Well then, make yourself comfortable. A merry evening lies before us."

Etzwane bathed himself with zeal: the first warm bath he had known since departing Fontenay's with Ifness. He dressed in fresh garments, then a barber trimmed his hair and shaved his face. What of his sour-smelling rags? He was tempted to keep them for mementos, but threw them away.

He went down to the common room, to find Frolitz in conversation with Fontenay. Frolitz leapt to his feet and embraced Etzwane. "Well then, my lad! I haven't seen you for months, and I hear that you have enjoyed a picaresque adventure! You always were the one for foibles and quixotries! But now, here you are, and looking—how shall I say it?—full of strange knowledge. What music have you been playing?"

Etzwane laughed. "I started to learn a Great Song of fourteen thousand cantos, but mastered only twenty or thereabouts."

"A good beginning! Perhaps we shall hear some of these tonight. I have taken on another man, a clever young Paganese, but he lacks elasticity. I doubt if he will ever learn. You shall have your old seat and Chad-do can work the sliding bass. What do you say to that?"

"I say, first, that I cannot play tonight; I would astound you all! Second, I am famished for a meal; I have been to Caraz and subsisted on porridge. Third, in regard to the future; it is a void."

"Outside interests constantly interfere with your music," declared Frolitz peevishly. "I suppose you came to meet your old friend, whose name I forget. I have seen him often during the past few days; for a fact, there he goes now, to his usual table in the corner. Take my advice and ignore him."

The advice is good," said Etzwane in a strained voice. "Nevertheless, I must have a word with Ifness, and I will join you later."

Etzwane crossed the room, to stand before the table in the corner. "I am surprised to see you."

Ifness looked up blankly then gave a brusque nod. "Ah, Etzwane, you catch me at a hurried moment I must take a quick meal and depart."

Etzwane sank into a chair and stared into the long, austere face as if to bring forth Ifness' secrets by visual suction, "Ifness, one of us must be insane. Who is it, you or I?"

Ifness made an irritated gesture. "It would work to the same effect; in either case an equal disparity of opinion would exist. But, as I put forward, I— "

Etzwane spoke as if he had not heard. "Do you recall the circumstances of our leave-taking?"

Ifness frowned. "Why should I not do so? The event occurred at a place in north-central Caraz on a day I cannot precisely name. I believe that you departed in pursuit of a barbarian maiden, or some such thing. As I recall, I warned you against the project."

"This was the general nature of the event. You went off to arrange a rescue operation."

A waiter set a tureen before Ifness, who raised the lid, sniffed, then ladled forth a bowl of green sea-fruit soup. Ifness came back to Etzwane's remark with an abstracted frown. "Let me see; what were the circumstances? They included the Alula tribesmen and Hozman Sore-throat. You wanted to organize a gallant expedition into the skies to rescue a girl who had struck your fancy. I pronounced such an effort impractical and even suicidal. I am glad to see that you were dissuaded."

I remember the matter from a different perspective," said Etzwane. "I proposed to capture the depot ship; you stated that such an acquisition would interest the Earth folk and that a rescue ship might arrive in a minimum of two or three weeks."

"Yes, this was the case. I mentioned the matter to Dasconetta, who felt that such a step exceeded the capabilities of his office, and nothing came of it. " Ifness tasted of his soup and sprinkled a few flakes of pepper pod upon the surface. "In any case, the eventualities were the same, and you need feel no more concern."

Etzwane controlled his voice with an effort. "How could eventualities be the same when a shipload of captives is taken to a far planet?"

"I speak in a broad sense," said Ifness. "As for myself, my work has taken me far afield. " He glanced at his chronometer. "I have yet a few minutes. The asutra that I took here in Shant, and others, have been studied. You may be interested in what I have learned."

Etzwane leaned back in his chair. "By all means, tell me about the asutra."

Ifness consumed his soup with slow, easy sweeps of the spoon. "Something of what I will tell you is conjecture, some is induction, some observation, and some derives from direct communication. The asutra are a very old race, with an exceedingly long history. As we know, they are parasites evolved from a kind of swamp leech. They accumulate information upon the face of crystals inside their abdomen. These crystals grow and the asutra grows. A large abdomen indicates much stored wisdom; the larger the abdomen, the higher the caste. The asutra communicate among themselves by nervous impulses, or perhaps telepathy; an array of specialized asutra is capable of the most complicated intellectual tasks.

"It is a truism that intelligence develops during a time of gradually worsening conditions; so it was with the asutra. They had and have a high reproductive rate; each asutra produces a million spawn, which are oriented according to one of two modes and which must make juncture with an opposite mode to become viable. In the early days the asutra overpopulated their swamps and were forced to compete for hosts: a challenge which urged them to domesticate hosts, to build stables and pens, and to control their own reproductive rate.

"It is important to recognize the asutra dynamic, their basic psychic drive, which is the lust to dominate a strong and active host. This necessity is as fundamental as the force which turns plants to the sunlight, or prompts men to seek food when they are hungry. Only by recognizing this lust to dominate can the activities of the asutra be understood even dimly. I must remark here that many, if not all, of our original theories were naive and incorrect. My researches, I am happy to state, have illuminated the truth.

"Because of their intelligence and their capacity to multiply this intelligence, and because of their natural predacity, asutra history has been complex and dramatic. They have passed through many eras. There was an artificial period, during which they used chemical nutrition, electrical sensations, imaginary knowledge. During a time of lassitude, mechanisms created seas of nutrient sludge, in which the asutra swam. During another era the asutra bred optimal hosts, but these were conquered and destroyed by asutra on primeval hosts from the original slime. But these archaic hosts were moribund and nearly extinct; the asutra were stimulated to interplanetary adventure.