Tower of Zanid (17 page)

“I say, not so loud!” said Fallon. Sainian, because of his infirmity, had a tendency to bellow an ordinary conversation.

“Well, what in the name of all the nonexistent devils do you here?” said Sainian in a lower voice. “Have you truly become a priest of Yesht? Never did you strike me as one who’d willingly submit to any cult’s drug-dreams.”

“I shall come to that. First, tell me: Are you down in this hole permanently, or can you come and go at will?”

“Ha! Then you cannot be an authentic priest, or you would know without the asking.”

“Oh, I know you’re clever. But answer my question.”

“As to that,” said Sainian, lighting a cigar and pushing the box toward Fallon, “I am as free as an aqebat—in one of the cages in King Kir’s zoo. I come and go as I please—as does a tree in the royal gardens. In short, I roam this small kingdom of the cellar of the Safq without let or hindrance. But so much as a motion toward escape is worth a pike in my chaudron, or a bolt in my back.”

“Do you like that state of affairs?”

“ ’Tis a relative matter, sir. To say I like this gloomy crypt as well as the opulent court of Hershid were tampering with the truth. To say I mislike it as ill as being flayed and broiled like one of those wretches the Yeshtites employ in their major services were less than utter verity. Relativity, you see. As I have ever maintained, such terms as
‘
like’
are meaningless in any absolute sense. One must know what one likes better than…”

“Please!” Fallon, who knew his Krishnan, held up a hand. “Then I can count on you not to give me away?”

“Then it
is
some jape or masque, as I suspected! Fear not; your enterprises are nought to me, who tries to look upon the world with serene philosophical detachment. Albeit such traps as this wherein I presently find myself do betimes render difficult that worthy enterprise. Did a chance present itself of dropping demented Kir into some convenient cesspool, I think mundane resentment would overcome the loftiest…”

“Yes, yes. But how did you get caught?”

“First, good sir, tell me what do
you
do in this cursed mew? Not mere idle curiosity, I trust?”

“I’m after information. So…” Fallon, without going into the reason for wishing this information, briefly told of the methods by which he had penetrated the crypt.

“By Myande the Execrable! Hereafter I shall believe all tales I hear of the madness of Terrans. You had perhaps one chance in the hundred of getting this far without apprehension.”

“Da’vi has stood by me this time,” said Fallon.

“Whether she stands by you so staunchly on your way out is another matter whose outcome I eagerly await. I would not see your quivering body stretched upon the gruesome altar of Yesht.”

“Why combine worship with torture? Just for fun?”

“Not entirely. There was once an ancient superstition in the land, that by periodically slaying a victim in such wise that the wretch was made copiously to weep, the heavens—by the principles of sympathetic magic—would likewise be induced to weep, thereby causing the crops to grow. And in time this grim usage attached itself to the worship of the earth-god Yesht. But the truth is, in very fact, that many folk like to see others hurt—a quality wherein, if I read my Terran history aright, we’re not so different from you. Will you have a beaker of wine?”

“Just one—and don’t tempt me with a second. If I have to fight my way out I shall need all my coordination. But let’s have your story, now.”

Sainian drew a deep breath and looked at the glowing end of his cigar. “Word came to me in Hershid that the Dour of Balhib was hiring the world’s leading philosophers, at fabulous stipends, for a combined assault upon the mysteries of the universe. Being—like all men of intellect—somewhat of a fool in worldly affairs, I gave up my professorship in the Imperial Lyceum, journeyed to Zanid, and took service here.

“Now, mad though he be, Kir did have one shrewd idea— unless that cunning son-in-law of his, Chabarian, first put the burr in his drawers. Myself inclines to the Chabarian hypothesis, for the man once visited your Earth and picked up all sorts of exotic notions there. This particular idea was to collect such credulous lackwits as myself, clap us up in these caves, ply us with liquor and damsels, and then inform us that we should either devise a thing wherewith to vanquish the Qaathians or end up on the smoking altars of Yesht. Faced with this grim alternative, mightily have we striven, and after three years of sweat and swink we have done what no others on this planet have hitherto accomplished.”

“And that was?” said Fallon.

“We have devised a workable gun. Not so handy and quick at vomiting forth its deadly pellets as those of Earth, but yet a beginning. We knew about Terran guns. And though none had ever seen one in fact, we sought information from those who had—such as the Zambava whom you led in your rash raid into Gozashtand back in the reign of King Eqrar. From this we ascertained the basic principles: the hollow metal tube, the ball, the charge of explosive and means for igniting it. The tube with its wooden stock presented no great difficulties, nor did the bullets.

“The crux of the matter was the explosive. We were chapfallen to find that the spore-powder of the yasuvar-plant, however lively in firecrackers and other pyrotechnics, was useless for our present purpose. After much experiment, the problem was solved by my colleague Nele-Jurdare of Katai-Jho-gorai with a mixture of certain common substances. Thenceforth ‘twas but a matter of cut-and-try.”

“Stimulus-diffusion.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” said Fallon. “Just a Terran term I got from Fredro. Who was in on this project besides you?”

Sainian relit his cigar. “There were but two others worthy the name of philosopher: Nele-Jurdare—who, alas, perished in an accidental explosion of his mixture a while ago… What date is it by the way? With nought to tell the time by but the changing of the guard, one loses track.”

Fallon told him, adding, “Before I forget, three Earthmen— Soares, Botkin, and Daly—have disappeared from Zanid in the last three years. Have you seen any sign of them? They weren’t included in Chabarian’s ordnance department, were they?”

“Nay, the only other is my colleague, Zarrash bad-Rau of Majbur. The other leaders in this enterprise were but high-class mechanics, five of ‘em, Krishnans all. Of these, three have died of natural causes. The other two remain on as supervisors till, if Kir keeps his promise, these tubes have proved their might upon the sanguinary field of battle, whereupon we shall be released with all the gold we can carry. Assuming, that is to say, the Dour does not cut our throats to silence us for certain, or that the Yeshtites do not track us down and slay us for knowing too much about their infernal cultus.”

“Where’s this Zarr-ash now?”

“He has the third chamber down. He and I are at the moment on terms of cold courtesy only.”

“Why?” asked Fallon.

“Oh, a difference of opinion. A slight epistemological dissension, wherein Zarrash—as a realist-transcendentalist—upheld the claims of deductive reasoning. Now, I, as a nominalist-positivist was asserting those of inductive. Tempers rose, words flew—childish, I grant you, but long confinement frays the temper. But withal, in a few days we find ourselves driven to reconciliation by sheer tedium of having nobody else with whom intelligently to converse.”

Fallon asked, “Do you know what the explosives are made of?”

“Oh, aye. But think not I will babble the news.”

“You hope to sell that knowledge to some other Krishnan potentate—say the Dour of Gozashtand?”

Sainian smiled. “You may draw your own inferences, sir. I don’t risk a straight answer before I am free of this trammel.”

“What think you of the coming of the gun to this planet?”

“Well, the late Nele-Jurdare deplored the whole enterprise, assisting but unwillingly to preserve his own gore. He maintained that to further such murderous novelties were a sin against one’s fellow being, unworthy of a true philosopher. Zarrash on’t’other hand favors the gun on the ground it will end all war upon the planet, by making it too frightful for men to contemplate—for all that it had not that effect in Terran history.”

“And you?”

“Oh, I look upon the matter from a different angle of vision: Until we Krishnans have some rough equality with you Terrans in force of arms, we cannot expect equality of treatment.”

“Why, what’s the matter with how you’ve been treated?”

“Nought is the matter, sir. Considering what you
could
have done, you’ve displayed exemplary moderation. But you’re a variable and various lot. You have furnished us on one hand with Barnevelt—a paragon of manly virtue who has put down the Sunqar pirates and atop of that brought us the boom of soap. On the other hand, there have been palpable swindlers like that Borel. Your methods of selecting those who shall visit us baffle us. On one hand you stop your men of science from imparting their knowledge of useful arts to us—lest by taking advantage thereof we destroy your comfortable superiority. On the other hand, you unleash upon us a swarm of trouble-stirring missionaries and proselytizers for a hundred competing and contradictory religious sects, whose tenets are at least as absurd as those of our native cults.”

Fallon opened his mouth to speak, but Sainian rattled on. “You are, as I have said, more variable than we. No two of. you are alike, wherefore no sooner have we adapted ourselves to one of you when he is replaced by another of utterly different character. Take, for instance, when Masters Kennedy and Abreu—both credits to their species—retired at Novorecife and were replaced by those scottish barbarians Glumelin and Gorchakov. And your relations with us are at best those of a kindly and solicitous master to an inferior—who is not to be wantonly abused, but who will, if he knows what is well for him, bear himself in an acquiescent and deferential manner toward his natural lord. Take this consul at Zanid—what’s his name…”

“I know Percy Mjipa,” said Fallon. “But look here: Aren’t you afraid your planet will get pretty badly shot up? Or that whoever gets guns first will conquer all the other nations?”

“For the first contingency, a man is no deader when slain by a gun-bullet than when clouted by a club. And for the second, that were no ill to my way of thought. We need one government for the world—first because we
must
have it ere you will admit us to your hoity-toity Interplanetary Council. Secondly, because it gives us an advantage in dealing with you in any case. Prestige follows power, she does not precede, as says Nehavend.”

“But shouldn’t such a government come about as a result of voluntary agreement among the nations?” Fallon smiled at the realization that he, the cynical adventurer, was arguing for Terran political idealism, while Sainian, the unworldly philosopher, spoke for Machiavellian realism.

“You’ll never get voluntary agreement in our present stage of culture, and well you know it, Earthman. Why, if the ayamen of our nearest heavenly neighbor, the planet Qondyor— what do you Terrans call it?”

“Vishnu,” said Fallon.

“I recall now—after some fribbling Terran deity, is it not? What I say is: if these rude savages invaded us—let’s say brought hither in Terran spaceships for some recondite Terran reason—think you that even that threat would unite our several states? Nay. Gozashtand would seek revenge upon Mikardand for its defeat at Meozid. Suria and Dhaukia would see a chance to throw off the yoke of Qaath, and then each to erase the other—and so on down the list, each angling for the help of the invaders in extirpating its neighbor, indifferent to its own eventual fate.

“Had we another thousand years wherein to advance at our natural gait, ‘twere well—but such time is lacking. And, as I recall my Terran history, you fellows all but blew up your planet before you came to that happy degree of concord; and your general level of culture was far ahead of our own at present. So, say I, we shall receive equal treatment when—and only when—we no longer have this multiplicity of independent sovereignties that you can play off, one against…”

“Excuse me,” said Fallon, “but I’ve got to get back upstairs before my friend guarding the door goes off duty.”

He crushed out his cigar, rose, and opened the door. There was no sign of Fredro.

“
Bakh
!” Fallon breathed. “Either the fool’s gone off exploring, on his own, or the guards have taken him! Come on, Sainian, show me around this warren, I must find my man.”

Sainian led Fallon briskly through the halls and rooms of the crypt. Fallon followed, shooting glances right and left from under his cowl into the many dark corners.

Sainian explained: “Here the guns are stored when finished and inspected… Here is the room where the barrels are bored true after forging… Here is the stock-making chamber. See how they carve and polish stocks of bolkiswood; Chabarian lured woodcarvers from Suruskand, for in this treeless land the art’s but feebly developed…Here the explosive is mixed…”

“Wait,” said Fallon, looking at the mixing process.

In the middle of the room a tailed Koloftu stood before a cauldron under which burned a small oil-flame. The cauldron contained what appeared to be molten asphalt. The Koloftu was measuring out with a dipper and pouring into the asphalt the materials from two barrels full of whitish powder, like fine sand, while with his other hand he gently stirred the mixture.

“Beware!” said Sainian. “Disturb him not, lest we all be blown to shreds!”

But Fallon stepped nearer to the cauldron, thrust a finger into one of the barrels of powder, and tasted. Sugar!

Though no chemist, Fallon’s store of general information— gathered in the course of his ninety-four years—informed him that the other barrel probably contained niter. In back of the Koloftu, Fallon could see a mold into which the mixture would be poured to harden into small blocks. But he could not linger to watch this process.

They searched through more chambers: some used by the workers for living, some for storage of raw materials, and some vacant. In one section of the labyrinth, they came upon a door with a member of the Royal Guard standing before it.