The Brave Free Men (4 page)

Sajarano's lips twitched with bitter amusement. He put aside the ivories. "Come."

They descended to Sajarano's private study, where for a moment Sajarano stood in cogitation. Etzwane wondered if he planned another grim surprise, and ostentatiously put his hand into his pouch. Sajarano gave the slightest of shrugs, as if dismissing from his mind whatever idea had entered. From a cabinet he extracted a packet of vouchers. Etzwane cautiously came forward, finger on the yellow button. But Sajarano's defiance had waned. He muttered, "Your policies are far too bold for me. Perhaps they are right; perhaps I have buried my head in the sand. . . . Sometimes I feel as if I have been living a dream."

In a dull voice he instructed Etzwane in the use of the vouchers.

"Let us have no misunderstandings," Etzwane told Sajarano. "You must not leave the palace, use the radio, send the servants on missions, or entertain friends. We intend you no inconvenience, so long as you do nothing to provoke our suspicion."

Etzwane then summoned Frolitz and made him known to Sajarano. Frolitz spoke with a waggish cordiality. "This for me is unfamiliar employment; I trust that our association will be placid."

"It will be so on my part," said Sajarano in a bitter voice. "Well then, what else do you require?"

"At the moment, nothing."

Sajarano went off to his chambers in the pearl-glass tower. Frolitz said in a quizzical voice, "Your duties appear to exceed the simple jailing of Sajarano."

"Quite true," said Etzwane. "If you are curious. . . ."

"Tell me nothing!" cried Frolitz. "The less my knowledge, the greater my innocence!"

"As you wish." Etzwane showed Frolitz the stairs leading to the radio room. "Remember! Sajarano must definitely be barred from this area!"

"A bold restriction," said Frolitz, "in view of the fact that he owns the palace."

"Regardless, it must be applied. Someone must remain on guard here at all times, day and night."

"Inconvenient when we wish to rehearse," grumbled Frolitz.

"Rehearse here in front of the stairs." He pushed the call-button; Aganthe appeared.

"We will be disrupting your routines for a certain period," said Etzwane. "To be candid, the Anome has ordained a mild form of house-arrest for Sajarano. Master Frolitz and his associates will be in charge of arrangements. They are anxious to obtain your complete cooperation."

Aganthe bowed. "My responsibility is to his Excellency Sajarano; he has instructed me to obey your orders; this I will do."

"Very good. I now instruct you not to listen to any orders Sajarano may utter in conflict with our official duties. Is that clear?"

"Yes, your Excellency."

"If Sajarano gives such an order, you must consult me or Master Frolitz. I cannot emphasize this too strongly. In the morning room you have seen the consequence of incorrect conduct."

"I understand completely, your Excellency." Aganthe departed.

Etzwane told Frolitz: "From now on you must control events. Be suspicious! Sajarano is a resourceful man."

"Do you consider me any the less so?" demanded Frolitz. "Remember when we last played
Kheriteri Melanchine?
Who instantly transposed to the seventh tone when Lurnous embarrassed us all? Is not this resource? Who locked Barndart the balladist in the privy when he persisted in song? What then of resource?"

"I have no fears," Etzwane replied.

Frolitz went off to inform the troupe in regard to their new duties; Etzwane returned to Sajarano's study and there drew up a voucher against public funds to the sum of twenty-thousand florins-enough, he calculated, to cover ordinary and extraordinary expenses for the near future.

At the Bank of Shant the sum of twenty thousand florins was paid over without question or formality; never in his life had Etzwane thought to control so much money!

The function of money was its use; at a nearby haberdashery Etzwane selected garments he deemed consonant with his new role: a rich jacket of purple and green velour, dark green trousers, a black' velvet cape with a pale green lining, the finest boots to be had. . . . He surveyed himself in the haberdasher's massive carbon-fume mirror, matching this splendid young patrician with the Gastel Etzwane of earlier days, who never spent a florin on other than urgent need.

The Aesthetic Corporation was housed in the Jurisdictionary, a vast construction of purple, green, and blue glass at the back of the Corporation

Plaza. The first two levels dated from the Middle Pandamons; the next four levels, the six towers and eleven domes, had been completed ten years before the Fourth Palasedran War, and by a miracle had escaped the great bombardment.

Etzwane went to the office of Aun Sharah, Chief Discriminator of Garwiy, on the second level of the Jurisdictionary. "Be so good as to announce me," he told the clerk. "I am Gastel Etzwane."

Aun Sharah himself came forth: a handsome man with thick silver hair worn close to his head, a fine aquiline nose, a wide, half-smiling mouth. He wore the simplest of dark gray tunics, ornamented only by a pair of small silverwood shoulder-clips: a costume so distinguished that Etzwane wondered if his own garments might not seem over-sumptuous by comparison.

The Chief Discriminator inspected Etzwane with easy curiosity. "Come into my rooms, if you will."

They went to a large, high-ceilinged office overlooking the Corporation Plaza. Like Aun Sharah's garments, the furnishings of his office were simple and elegant. Aun Sharah indicated a chair for Etzwane and settled upon a couch at the side of the room. Etzwane envied him his ease; Aun Sharah was distracted by no trace of self-consciousness.
All
his attention, so it appeared, was fixed upon Etzwane, who enjoyed no such advantage.

"You know of the new state of affairs," said Etzwane. "The Anome has committed the power of Shant against the Roguskhoi."

"Somewhat belatedly," murmured Aun Sharah.

Etzwane thought the remark a trifle insouciant. "Be that as it may, we must now arm ourselves. In this regard, the Anome has appointed me his Executive Aide; I speak with his voice."

Aun Sharah leaned back into the couch. "Isn't. it strange? Only a day or so ago a certain Gastel Etzwane was the object of an official search. I assume you to be the same person."

Etzwane regarded the Chief Discriminator with pointed coolness. "The Anome sought me; he found me. I put certain facts at his disposal; he reacted as you know."

"Wisely! Or such is my opinion," said Aun Sharah. "What, may I ask, were the 'facts'?"

"The mathematical certainty of disaster unless we gave instant battle. Have you arranged the assembly of technists?"

"The arrangements are being made. How many persons did you wish to consult?"

Etzwane glanced sharply at the Chief Discriminator, who seemed bland and relaxed. Etzwane feigned perplexity. "Did not the Anome issue a specific command?"

"I believe that he left the number indefinite."

"In that case, assemble the most expert and well-regarded authorities, from whom we can select a chairman or director of research. I want you to be on hand as well. Our first objective is to create a corps of capable men to implement the Anome's policies."

Aun Sharah nodded slowly and thoughtfully.

"How much progress has been made along these lines?"

Etzwane began to find the casual gaze somewhat too knowing. He said, "Not a great deal. Names are still under discussion. . . . In regard to the person Jerd Finnerack, what have you learned?"

Aun Sharah picked up a slip of paper. He read: "'Jerd Finnerack: an indentured employee of the balloon-way. Born in the village Ispero in the eastern region of Morningshore. His father, a berry grower, used the child's person as security against a loan; when he failed his obligation the child was seized. Finnerack has proved a recalcitrant worker. On one occasion he criminally loosed a balloon from, the switching wheel at Angwin Junction, resulting in extensive charges against the company. These costs were added to his indenture. He works now at Camp Three in Canton Glaiy, which is an accommodation for refractory workers. His indenture totals somewhat over two thousand florins.'" He handed the paper to Etzwane. "Why, may I ask, are you interested in Jerd Finnerack?"

More stiffly than ever Etzwane said, "I understand your natural interest; the Anome, however, insists upon total discretion. In regard to another matter; the Anome has ordered a movement of women to the maritime cantons. Unpleasant incidents must be minimized. In each canton at least six monitors should be appointed to hear complaints and note down particulars for subsequent action. I want you to appoint competent officers and station them as quickly as possible." "The measure is essential," Aun Sharah agreed. "I will dispatch men from my own staff to organize the groups."

"I leave the matter in your hands."

Etzwane departed the Office of the Chief Discriminator. On the whole, matters had gone well. Aun Sharah's calm visage undoubtedly concealed a seethe of clever formulations, which might or might not persuade him to mischief. More than ever Etzwane felt the need of a completely trustworthy and trusted ally. Alone, his position was precarious indeed.

He returned by a roundabout route to Sershan Palace. For a period he thought that someone followed him, but when he stepped through Pomegranate Portal and waited in the crimson gloom behind the pillar, no one came past, and when he continued, the way behind seemed clear.

Exactly at noon Etzwane entered the main conference hall of the Jurisdictionary. Looking neither right nor left he marched to the speaker's platform; placing his hands on the solid silver rail, he looked out over the attentive faces.

"Gentlemen: the Anome has prepared a message, which by his instructions I will read to you." Etzwane brought forth a sheet of parchment. "Here are the words of the Anome:

'Greetings to the technical aristocracy of Garwiy! Today I solicit your counsel in regard to the Roguskhoi. I have long hoped to repel these creatures without violence, but my efforts have been in vain; now we must fight.

'I have ordered formation of an army, but this is only half the work; effective weapons are needed.

'Here is the exact problem. The Roguskhoi warrior is massive, savage, fearless. His principal weapons are a metal cudgel and a scimitar; this latter both a cutting and a throwing weapon, effective to a distance of fifty yards or more. In hand-to-hand combat an ordinary man is helpless. Our soldiers therefore must be armed with weapons useful to a range of one hundred yards, or preferably more.

'I place this problem in your hands and direct that you immediately concentrate your efforts upon this single task. All the resources of Shant will
be
at your disposal.

'Naturally it is necessary that the effort be organized. So now I wish you to choose from among your present number a chairman to supervise your efforts.

'For my Executive Aide. I have appointed the person who reads this message, Gastel Etzwane. He speaks with my voice; you will make your reports to him and follow his recommendations.

'I reiterate the urgency of this matter. Our militia is gathering and-soon will need weapons.

Etzwane put down the paper and looked out over the ranked faces. "Are there any questions?"

A stout and somewhat florid man rose ponderously to his feet. "The requirements are less than clear. What sort of weapons does the Anome have in mind?"

"Weapons to kill the Roguskhoi, and to drive them back, at minimal risk to the user," said Etzwane.

"This is all very well," complained the stout

man, "but we are afforded no illumination. The Anome should provide a general set of specifications, or at least basic designs! Are we required to grope in the dark?"

"The Anome is no technist," said Etzwane. "You people are the technists! Develop your own specifications and designs! If energy weapons can be produced, so much the better. If not, contrive whatever is practical and feasible. All over Shant the armies are forming; they need the tools of war. The Anome cannot ordain weapons out of thin air; they must be designed and produced by you, the technists!"

The florid man looked uncertainly from right to left, then sat down. In the back row Etzwane noticed Aun-Sharah, with a musing ruminative smile on his face.