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Authors: Jack Vance

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BOOK: The Blue World
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Caverbee, a small
sandy-haired man with a wry face, his nose slanted in one direction,
mouth in another, stepped somewhat reluctantly forward. Sklar Hast
said, “Voiderveg claims that I outwinked Master Hoodwink Rohan
by means of diligent practice of the test exercises. Is this true?”

“No. It’s not
true. It can’t possibly be true. The apprentices have been training
on Exercises one through fifty. When Arbiter Myrex asked for
exercises to be used for the contest, I brought the advanced
exercises from the locker. He, and Intercessor Voiderveg made the
selection themselves.”

Sklar Hast pointed
to Arbiter Myrex. “True or false?”

Arbiter Myrex drew
a deep breath. “True, in a technical sense. Still, you had an
opportunity to practice the exercises.”

` “So did
Master Hoodwink Rohan,” said Sklar Hast with a grim smile.
“Needless to say, I did nothing of the sort.”

“So much is
clear,” said Phyral Berwick curtly. “But as for slander—“

Sklar Hast nodded
toward Caverbee. “He has the answer for that also.”

Caverbee spoke even
more reluctantly than before. “Intercessor Voiderveg wished to
espouse the Master Hoodwink’s daughter. He spoke of the matter first
to the Master Hoodwink, then to Meril Rohan. I could not help but
overhear the matter. She gave him a flat refusal. The Intercessor
asked the reason, and Meril Rohan said that she planned to espouse
the Assistant Hoodwink Sklar Hast, it ever he approached her as if
she were something other than a kick-release on a wink machine.
Intercessor Voiderveg seemed very much annoyed.”

“Bah!”
called Voiderveg, his face flaming pink. “What of slander now?”

Sklar Hast looked
through the crowd. His eyes met those of Meril Rohan,. She did not
wait to be requested to speak. She rose to her feet. “I am,Meril
Rohan. The evidence of the Second Assistant Hoodwink is by and large
accurate. At that time I planned to espouse Sklar Hast.”

Sklar Hast turned
back to Phyral Berwick. “There is the evidence.”

“You have made
a reasonable case. I adjudicate that Intercessor Semm Voiderveg is
guilty of slander. What penalty do you demand?”

“None. It is a
trivial matter. I merely want the issues judged on the merits,
without the extraneous factors brought forward by Intercessor
Voiderveg.”

Phyral Berwick
turned to Voiderveg. “You may continue speaking, but you must
refrain from further slander.”

“I will say no
more,” said Voiderveg in a thick
voice. “Eventually I will be vindicated.” He stepped down
from the rostrum, marched over to sit beside Arbiter Myrex, who
somewhat pointedly ignored him.

A tall dark-haired
man wearing a richly detailed gown of white, scarlet, and black,
asked for the rostrum. This was Barquan Blasdel, Apprise Intercessor.
He had a sobriety, an ease, a dignity of manner that lent him vastly
more conviction than that exercised by the somewhat over-fervid Semm
Voiderveg.

“As the
accused admits; the matter of slander is remote to the case, and I
suggest that we dismiss it utterly whom our minds. Aside from this
particular uncertainty none other exists. The issues are stark—almost embarrassingly clear. The Covenant requires that King Kragen
be accorded the justice of the sea. Sklar Hast wantonly,
deliberately, and knowingly violated the Covenant and brought about
the death of forty-three men and women. There can be no argument.”
Barquan Blasdel shrugged in a deprecatory manner. “Much as I
dislike to ask the death penalty, I must. So fists high then! Death
to Sklar Hast!”

“Death!”
roared the intercessors once again, holding high their fists, turning
around and gesturing to others in the throng to join them. Barquan
Blasdel’s temperate exposition swayed more folk than Voiderveg’s
accusations,. but still there was a sense of hesitation, of
uncertainty, as if all suspected that

there was yet more to be said.

Barquan Blasdel
leaned quizzically forward over the rostrum. “What? You are
reluctant in so clear a case? I cannot prove more than I have.”

Phyral Berwick, the
Apprise Arbiter, rose to his feet. “I remind Barquan Blasdel
that he has now called twice for the death of Sklar Hast. If he calls
once more and fails to achieve an affirmative vote, Sklar Hast is
vindicated.”

Barquan Blasdel
smiled out over the crowd. He turned a swift, almost furtive look of
appraisal toward Sklar Hast and without further statement descended
to the float. The rostrum was empty. No one sought to speak. Finally
Phyral Berwick himself mounted the steps: a stocky, square-faced man
with gray hair, ice-blue eyes, a short gray beard. He spoke slowly.
“Sklar Hast calls for the death of King Kragen. Semm Voiderveg
and Barquan Blasdel call for the death of Sklar Hast. I will tell you
my feelings. I have great fear in the first case and great
disinclination in the second. I have no clear sense of what I should
do. Sklar Hast, rightly or wrongly, has forced us to a decision. We
should consider with care and make no instant judgements.”

Barquan Blasdel
jumped to his feet. “Respectfully I must urge that we hold to
the issue under consideration, and this is the degree of Sklar Hast’s
guilt in connection with the Tranque Float tragedy.”

Phyral Berwick gave
a curt nod, “We will recess for an hour.”

Chapter 5

Sklar Hast pushed
through the crowd to where he had seen Meril Rohan, but when he
reached the spot, she had moved away. As he stood searching for her,
men and women of various floats, castes, guilds, and generations
pressed forward to stare at him, to speak to him, tentatively,
curiously. A few, motivated by a psychic morbidity, reached out to
touch him; a few reviled him in hoarse, choked voices. A tall
red-haired man, of the Peculator caste by his artfully dyed emblem of
five colors, thrust forward an excited face. “You speak of
killing King Kragen—how may this be done?”

Sklar Hast said in
a careful voice, “I don’t know. But I hope to learn.”

“And if King
Kragen becomes infuriated by your hostility and ravages each of the
floats in tum?”

“There might
be temporary suffering, but our children and their children would
benefit.”

Another spoke: a
short clench-jawed woman. “If it means my toil and my suffering
and my death, I would as soon that these misfortunes be shared by
those who would benefit.”

“All this is a
personal matter, of course,” said Sklar Hast politely. He
attempted to sidle away, but was halted by another woman, this one
wearing the blue and white sash of Hooligan Preceptress, who shook
her finger under the first woman’s nose. “What of the Two
Hundred who fled the tyrants? Do you think they worried about risk?
No! They sacrificed all, to avoid slavery, and we have benefited. Are
we immune then from danger and sacrifice?”

“No!”
shouted the first woman. “But we need not urge it upon
ourselves!”

An intercessor from
one of the outer floats stepped forward. “King Kragen is our
benefactor! What is this foolish talk of risk and slavery and
sacrifice? Instead we should speak of gratitude and praise and
worship.”

The red-haired
Peculator, leaning in front of Sklar Hast, waved his arms impatiently
at the intercessor: “Why don’t the intercessors and all of like
mind take King Kragen and voyage to a far float and serve him as they
please, but leave the remainder of us in peace?”

“King Kragen
serves us all,” declared the intercessor with great dignity. “We
would be performing,an ignoble act to deprive everyone else of his
beneficent guardian-ship.”

The Hooligan
Preceptress had a countering remark, but Sklar Hast managed to step
aside, and now he saw Meril Rohan at a nearby booth, where she sipped
tea from a mug. He edged through the crowd and joined her. She
acknowledged his presence with the coolest of nods.

“Come,”
said Sklar Hast, taking her arm. “Let us move to the side, where
the folk do not crush in on us. I have much to say to you.”

“I don’t care
to talk with you. A display of childish petulance perhaps, but this
is the situation.”

“And it is
precisely what I wish to discuss with you,” declared Sklar Hast.

Meril Rohan smiled
faintly. “Better that you be contriving arguments to save your
neck. The convocation may well decide that your life has continued as
long as is desirable.”

Sklar Hast winced.
“And how will you vote?”

“I am bored
with the entire proceedings. I will probably return to Quatrefoil.”

Perceiving the
situation to be awkward, Sklar Hast departed with as good grace as he
could muster.

He went to join
Rubal Gallager, who sat under the Apprise Inn pergola. “The
float is in ruins, you have made enemies—still your life is
no longer in danger,“‘said Rubal Gallager.” At least this
is my opinion.”

Sklar Hast gave a
sour grunt. “Sometimes I wonder if the effort is worthwhile.
Still, there is much to do. If nothing else, the hoodwink tower must
be rebuilt. And I have my office to consider.”

Rubal Gallager gave
a ripe chuckle. “With Semm Voiderveg as Intercessor and Ixon
Myrex as Arbiter, your tenure will hardly be one of sheer harmony.”

“The least of
my worries,” said Sklar Hast. “Assuming, of course, that I
leave the convocation alive.”

“I think you
may count upon this,” said Rubal Gallager with a somewhat grim
overtone to his voice. “There are many who wish you dead,
doubtless—but there are many who do not.”

Sklar Hast
considered a moment and gave his head a dubious shake. “I hardly
know what to say. For twelve generations the folk of the floats have
lived in harmony, and we think it savage if a man so much as
threatens another man with his fist … Would I want to be the node
of contention? Would I want the name Sklar Hast to be echoed down the
generations as the man who brought strife to the floats?”

Rubal Gallager
regarded him in quizzical amusement. “I have never known you
previously to wax philosophical.”

“It is not an
occupation I enjoy,” said Sklar Hast, “though it seems as
if more and more it is to be forced upon me.” He looked across
the float to the refreshment booth where Meril Rohan sat speaking
across a bench with one who was a stranger to Sklar Hast: a thin
young man with an intense, abrupt, angled face and a habit of nervous
gesticulation. He wore neither caste nor guild emblems, but from the
green piping at the throat of his smock Sklar Hast deduced him to be
from Sankston Float.

His thoughts were
interrupted by the return of Phyral Berwick to the rostrum.

“We will now
resume our considerations. I hope that all who speak eschew
excitement and emotion. This is a deliberative assembly of reasonable
and calm beings, not a mob of fanatics to be incited, and I wish all
to remember this. If angry men shout at each other, the purpose of
the convocation is defeated, and I will again call a recess. So now,
who wishes to speak?”

From the audience a
man called: “Question!”

Phyral Berwick
pointed his finger. “Step forward, state your name, caste,
craft, and propound your question.”

It was the
thin-faced young man with the intense expression whom Sklar Hast had
observed speaking with Meril Rohan. He said, “My name is Roger
Kelso. My lineage is Larcener, although I have departed from caste
custom and my craft now is scrivener. My question has this
background: Sklar Hast is accused of responsibility for the Tranque
Float disaster, and it is the duty of the convocation to measure this
responsibility. To do this we first must measure the proximate cause
of tragedy. This is an essential element of traditional
jurisprudence, and if any think otherwise, I will quote the Memorium
of

Lester McManus,
where he describes the theoretical elements of Home World law. This
is a passage not included in the Analects and is not widely known.
Suffice it to say, the man who establishes a precursory condition for
a crime is not necessarily guilty; he must actually, immediately, and
decisively cause the event.”

Barquan Blasdel, in
his easy, almost patronizing voice, interrupted: “But this is
precisely Sklar Hast’s act; he disobeyed King Kragen’s statute, and
this precipitated his terrible justice.”

Roger Kelso
listened with a patience obviously foreign to his nature; he
fidgeted, and his dark eyes glittered. He said, “If the worthy
Intercessor allows, I will continue.”

Barquan Blasdel
nodded politely and sat down. “When Sklar Hast spoke, he put
forth a conjecture which absolutely must be resolved: namely, did
Semm Voiderveg, the Tranque Intercessor, call King Kragen to Tranque
Float? This is a subtle question. Much depends upon not only if Semm
Voiderveg issued the call, but when. If he did so when the rogue
kragen was first discovered, well and good. If he called after Sklar
Hast made his attempt to kill the kragen, then Semm Voiderveg becomes
more guilty of the Tranque disaster than Sklar Hast, because he
certainly must have foreseen the consequences. What is the true state
of affairs? Do the intercessors secretly communicate with King
Kragen? And my specific question: did Semm Voiderveg call Kragen to
Tranque Float in order that Sklar Hast and his helpers be punished?”

“Bah!”
called Barquan Blasdel. “This is a diversion, a dialectic
trick!”

Phyral Berwick
deliberated a moment. “The question seems definite enough. I
personally cannot supply an answer, but I think that it deserves one,
if only to clarify matters. Semm Voiderveg: what do you say?”

“I say
nothing.”

“Come,”
said Phyral Berwick reasonably. “Your craft is Intercessor; your
responsibility lies to the men whom you represent and for whom you
intercede; certainly not to King Kragen, no matter how fervent your
respect. Evasion, secrecy, or stubborn silence can only arouse our
distrust and lead away from justice. Surely you recognize this much.”

“It is to be
understood,” said Semm Voiderveg tartly, “that even if I
did summon King Kragen—and it would violate guild policy to
make a definite statement in this regard—my motives were of
the highest order.”

“Well, then,
did you do so?”

Semm Voiderveg
looked toward Barquan Blasdel for support, and the Apprise
Intercessor once more rose to his feet. “Arbiter Berwick, I must
insist that we are pursuing a blind alley, far from our basic
purpose.”

“What then is
our basic purpose?” asked Phyral Berwick.

Barquan Blasdel
held out his arms in a gesture of surprise. “Is there any doubt?
By Sklar Hast’s own admission he has violated King Kragen’s laws and
the orthodox custom of the floats. It only remains to us—this
and no more—to establish a commensurate punishment.”

Phyral Berwick
started to speak, but yielded to Roger Kelso, who had leaped quickly
to his feet. “I must point out an elemental confusion in the
worthy Intercessor’s thinking. King Kragen’s laws are not human laws,
and is unorthodoxy a crime? It so, then many more beside Sklar Hast
are guilty.”

Barquan Blasdel
remained unruffled. “The confusion lies in another quarter. The
laws I refer to stem from the Covenant between ourselves and King
Kragen: he protects us from the terrors of the sea; in return he
insists that we acknowledge his sovereignty of the sea. And as for
orthodoxy, this is no more and no less than respect for the opinions
of the arbiters and intercessors of all the floats, who are trained
to judiciousness, foresight, and decorum. So now we must weigh the
exact degree of Sklar Hast’s transgressions.”

“Precisely,”
said Roger Kelso. “And to do this, we need to know whether Semm
Voiderveg summoned King Kragen to Tranque Float.”

Barquan Blasdel’s
voice at last took on a harsh edge. “We must not question the
acts of any man when he performs in the role of intercessor! Nor is
it permitted to probe the guild secrets of the intercessors!”

Phyral Berwick
signaled Barquan Blasdel to silence. “In a situation like this,
when fundamental questions are under consideration, guild secrecy
becomes of secondary importance. Not only I but all the other folk of
the floats wish to know the truth, with a minimum of obscurantism.
Secrecy of any sort may not be allowed: this is my ruling. So then,
Semm Voiderveg, you were asked: did you summon King Kragen to Tranque
Float on the night in question?”

The very air seemed
to congeal; every eye turned on Semm Voiderveg. He cleared his
throat, raised his eyes to the sky. But he showed no embarrassment in
his reply. “The question seems nothing less than ingenuous. How
could I function as intercessor without some means of conveying to
King Kragen both the extent of our trust and fidelity, likewise the
news of emergency when such existed? When the rogue appeared, it was
no less than my duty to summon King Kragen. I did so. The means are
irrelevant.”

Barquan Blasdel
nodded in profound approval, almost relief. Phyral Berwick drummed
his fingers, on the rostrum. Several times he opened his mouth to
speak, and each time closed it. Finally he asked, rather lamely, “Are
these the only occasions upon which you summon King Kragen?”

Semm Voiderveg made
a show of indignation. “Why do you question me? I am
Intercessor; the criminal is Sklar Hast!”

“Easy, then;
the questions illuminate the extent of the alleged crime. For
instance, let me ask this: do you ever summon King Kragen to feed
from your lagoon in order to visit a punishment or a warning upon the
folk of your float?”

Semm Voiderveg
blinked. “The wisdom of King Kragen is inordinate. He can detect
delinquencies; he makes his presence known—“

“Specifically,
then, you summoned King Kragen to Tranque Float when Sklar Hast
sought to kill the rogue?”

“My acts are
not in the balance. I see no reason to answer the question.”

Barquan Blasdel
rose majestically to his feet.“I was about to remark as much.”

“And I!”
“And I!” Came from various other intercessors.

Phyral Berwick
spoke to the crowd in a troubled voice. “There seems no
practical way to determine exactly when Semm Voiderveg called King
Kragen. If he did so after Sklar Hast had begun his attack upon the
rogue, then in my opinion Semm Voiderveg, the Intercessor, is more
immediately responsible for the Tranque disaster than Sklar Hast, and
it becomes a travesty to visit any sort of penalty upon Sklar Hast.
Unfortunately there seems no way of settling this question.”

Poe Belrod, the
Advertiserman Elder, rose to his feet and stood looking sidelong
toward Semm Voiderveg. “I can shed some light on the situation.
I was a witness to all that occurred. When the rogue appeared in the
lagoon, Semm Voiderveg went to watch with the others. He did not go
apart until after Sklar Hast began to the beast. I am sure others
will be witness to this; Semm Voiderveg made no attempt to conceal
his presence.”

Several others who
had been at the scene corroborated the testimony of Poe Belrod.

The Apprise
Intercessor, Barquan Blasdel, again gained the rostrum. “Arbiter
Berwick, I beg that you sedulously keep to the paramount issue. The
facts are these: Sklar Hast and his gang committed an act knowingly
proscribed both by Tranque Arbiter Ixon Myrex and by Tranque
Intercessor Semm Voiderveg. The consequences stemmed from this act;
Sklar Hast is inevitably guilty.”

BOOK: The Blue World
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