Planet of Adventure Omnibus (43 page)

“It appears,”
said Reith, “that we now lack a navigator. In what direction lies Zara?”

Zarfo’s
manner was very subdued. He pointed a gnarled black finger. “That should be our
heading.” He turned to look aft toward the seven bobbing heads. “Incomprehensible
to me, the greed of men for money! See to what disasters it leads!” And Zarfo
gave a sanctimonious cluck of the tongue. “Well then, an unfortunate incident,
happily in the past. And now we command the
Pibar
! Ahead: Zara, the Ish
River, and Smargash!”

ALL DURING
THE first day the Parapan was serene. The second day was brisk with the
Pibar
pitching up and over a short chop. On the third day a black-brown cloud loomed
out of the west, stabbing the sea with lightning. Wind came in massive gusts;
for two hours the
Pibar
heaved and tossed; then the storm passed over,
and the
Pibar
drove into clement weather.

On the fourth
day Kachan loomed ahead. Reith steered the
Pibar
alongside a fishing
craft and Zarfo asked the direction of Zara. The fisherman, a swarthy old man
with steel rings in his ears, pointed wordlessly. The
Pibar
surged
forward, entering the Ish estuary at sunset. The lights of Zara flickered along
the western shore, but now, with no reason to put into port, the
Pibar
continued south up the Ish.

The pink moon
Az shone on the water; all night the
Pibar
drove. Morning found them in
a rich country with rows of stately keel trees along the banks. Then the land
began to grow barren, and for a space the river wound through a cluster of
obsidian spires. On the next day a band of tall men in black cloaks were seen
on the riverbank. Zarfo identified them as Niss tribesmen. They stood
motionless, watching the
Pibar
surge upstream. “Give them a wide berth!
They live in holes like night-hounds and some say the night-hounds are kinder.”

Late in the
afternoon sand dunes closed in upon the river and Zarfo insisted that the
Pibar
be anchored in deep water for the night. “Ahead are sandbars and shallows. We
would be certain to run aground and undoubtedly the Niss have followed. They
would grapple the boat and swarm aboard.”

“Won’t they
attack us if we lay at anchor?”

“No, they
fear deep water and never use boats. At anchor we are as safe as if we were
already at Smargash.”

The night was
clear with both Az and Braz wheeling through the sky of old Tschai. On the
riverbank the Niss boldly lit their fires and boiled their pots, and later
started up a wild music of fiddles and drums. For hours the travelers sat
watching the agile shapes in black cloaks dancing around the fires, kicking,
jumping, heads up, heads low; swinging, whirling, prancing with arms akimbo.

In the morning
the Niss were nowhere to be seen. The
Pibar
passed through the shallows
without incident. Late in the afternoon the travelers came to a village,
guarded from the Niss by a line of posts to each of which was chained a
skeleton in a rotting black cloak. Zarfo declared the village to be the
feasible limit of navigation with Smargash yet three hundred miles south,
across a land of deserts, mountain pinnacles and chasms. “Now we must travel by
caravan, over the old Sarsazm Road, to Hamil Zut under the Lokhara Uplands.
Tonight I’ll make inquiry and learn what’s to our advantage.”

Zarfo stayed
ashore overnight, returning in the morning with the news that by dint of the
most furious bargaining he had exchanged the
Pibar
for first class
passage by caravan to Hamil Zut.

Reith
calculated. Three hundred miles? Two hundred sequins a person, at maximum:
eight hundred for the four. The
Pibar
was worth ten thousand, even at a
sacrifice price. He looked at Zarfo, who ingenuously returned the gaze. “You
will recall,” said Reith, “the ill feeling and dissension at Kabasas?”

“Of course,”
declared Zarfo. “To this day I become anguished by the injustice of your hints.”

“Here is
another hint. How much extra did you demand for the
Pibar
and receive?”

Zarfo gave an
uneasy grimace. “Naturally, I was saving the news to be a glad surprise.”

“How much?”

“Three
thousand sequins,” muttered Zarfo. “No more, no less. I consider it a fair
price up here, far from wealth.”

Reith allowed
the figure to pass without challenge. “Where is the money?”

“It will be
paid when we go ashore.”

“And when
does the caravan leave?”

“Soon-a day
or so. There is a passable inn; we can spend the night ashore.”

“Very well;
let us all go now and collect the money.”

Somewhat to
Reith’s surprise the sack which Zarfo received from the innkeeper contained
exactly three thousand sequins, and Zarfo gave a sour sneer and, going into the
tavern, called for a pot of ale.

Three days
later the caravan started south: a file of twelve power wagons, four mounted
with sandblasts. Sarsazm Road led through awesome scenery: gorges and great
precipices, the bed of an ancient sea, vistas of distant mountains, sighing
forests of keel and blackfern. Occasionally Niss were sighted but they kept
their distance and on the evening of the third day the caravan pulled into
Hamil Zut, a squalid little town of a hundred mud huts and a dozen taverns.

In the
morning Zarfo engaged pack-beasts, equipment and a pair of guides, and the
travelers set forth up the trail into the Lokharan highlands.

“This is wild
country,” Zarfo warned them. “Dangerous beasts are occasionally seen, so be
ready with your weapons.”

The trail was
steep, the terrain indeed wild. On several occasions they sighted Kar Yan,
subtle gray beasts slinking through the rocks, sometimes erect on two legs,
sometimes dropping to all six. Another time they encountered a tiger-headed
reptile gorging upon a carcass, and were able to pass unmolested.

On the third
day after leaving Hamil Zut, the travelers entered Lokhara, a great upland plain;
and in the mid-afternoon Smargash appeared ahead. Zarfo now told Reith: “It
occurs to me, as it must have to you, that yours is a very ticklish venture.”

“Agreed.”

“Folk here
are not indifferent to the Wankh, and a stranger might easily talk to the wrong
people.”

So.

“It might be
better for me to select the personnel.”

“Certainly.
But leave the question of payment to me.”

“As you wish,”
growled Zarfo.

The
countryside was now a prosperous well-watered land, populated by peasant farms.
The men, like Zarfo, were tattooed or dyed black, with a mane of white hair.
The skins of the women, in contradistinction, were chalky white, and their hair
was black. Urchins showed white or black hair according to their sex, but their
skins were uniformly the color of the dirt in which they played.

A road ran on
a riverbank, under majestic old keels. To either side were small bungalows,
each in its bower of vines and shrubs. Zarfo sighed with vast feeling. “Observe
me, the transient worker returning to his home. But where is my fortune? How
may I buy my cottage by the river? Poverty has forced me to strange ways; I am
thrown in with a stone-hearted zealot, who takes his joy thwarting the hopes of
a kind old man!”

Reith paid no
heed, and presently they entered Smargash.

REITH SAT IN
the parlor of the squat cylindrical cottage he had rented, overlooking the
Smargash common, where the young folk spent much time dancing.

Across from
him, in wicker chairs, sat five white-haired men of Smargash, a group screened
from the twenty Zarfo originally had approached. The time was middle afternoon;
out on the common, dancers skipped and kicked to music of concertina, bells and
drums.

Reith
explained as much of his program as he dared: not a great deal. “You men are
here because you can help me in a certain venture. Zarfo Detwiler has informed
you that a large sum of money is involved; this is true, even if we fail. If we
succeed, and I believe the chances are favorable, you will earn wealth
sufficient to satisfy any of you. There is danger, as might be expected, but we
shall hold it to a minimum. If anyone does not care to consider such a venture,
now is the time to leave.”

The oldest of
the group, one Jag Jaganig, an expert in the overhaul and installation of
control systems, said, “So far we can’t say yes or no. None of us would refuse
to drag home a sack of sequins, but neither would we care to challenge
impossibility for a chancy bice.”

“You want
more information?” Reith looked from face to face. “This is natural enough. But
I don’t want to take the merely curious into my confidence. If any of you are
definitely not disposed for a dangerous but by no means desperate venture,
please identify yourself now.”

There was a
slight stir of uneasiness, but no one spoke out.

Reith waited
a moment. “Very well; you must bind yourselves to secrecy.”

The group
bound themselves by awful Lokhar oaths. Zarfo, plucking a hair from each head,
twisted a fiber which he set alight. Each inhaled the smoke. “So we are bound,
one to all; if one proves false, the others as one will strike him down.”

Reith,
impressed by the ritual, had no more qualms about speaking to the point. “I
know the exact location of a source of wealth, at a place not on the planet
Tschai. We need a spaceship and a crew to operate it. I propose to commandeer a
spaceship from the Ao Hidis field; you men shall be the crew. To demonstrate my
sanity and good faith, I will pay to each man on the day of departure five
thousand sequins. If we try but fail, each man receives another five thousand
sequins.”

“Each
surviving man,” grumbled Jag Jaganig.

Reith went
on: “If we succeed, ten thousand sequins will seem like ten bice. Essentially,
this is the scope of the venture.”

The Lokhars
shuffled dubiously in their chairs. Jag Jaganig spoke. “We obviously have the
basis for an adequate crew here, at least for a Zeno, or a Kud, or even one of
the small Kadants. But it is no small matter to so affront the Wankh.”

“Or worse,
the Wankhmen,” muttered Zorofim.

“As I recall,”
mused Thadzei, “no great vigilance prevailed. The scheme, while startling,
seems feasible-provided that the ship we board is in operative condition.”

“Aha!”
exclaimed Belje. “That’ provided that’ is the key to the entire exploit!”

Zarfo jeered:
“Naturally there is risk. Do you expect money for nothing?”

“I can hope.”

Jag Jaganig
inquired: “Assume that the ship is ours. Is further risk entailed?”

“None.”

“Who will
navigate?”

“I will.”

“In what form
is this ‘wealth’?” demanded Zorofim. “Gems? Sequins? Precious metal? Antiques? Essences?”

“I don’t care
to go any further into detail, except to guarantee that you will not be
disappointed.”

The
discussion proceeded, with every aspect of the venture subjected to attack and
analysis. Alternative proposals were considered, argued, rejected. No one
seemed to regard the risk as overwhelming, nor did anyone doubt the group’s
ability to handle the ship. But none evinced enthusiasm. Jag Jaganig put the
situation into focus. “We are puzzled,” he told Reith. “We do not understand
your purposes. We are skeptical of boundless treasures.”

Zarfo said, “Here
I must speak. Adam Reith has his faults which I won’t deny. He is stubborn and
unwieldy; he is crafty as a zut; he is ruthless when opposed. But he is a man
of his word. If he declares a treasure to exist for our taking, that aspect of
the matter is closed.”

After a
moment Belje muttered: “Desperate, desperate! Who wants to learn the truth of
the black boxes?”

“Desperate,
no,” countered Thadzei. “Risky, yes, and may demons runoff with the black boxes!”

“I’ll take
the chance,” said Zorofim.

“I as well,”
said jag Jaganig. “Who lives forever?”

Belje finally
capitulated and declared himself committed. “When shall we leave?”

“As soon as
possible,” said Reith. “The longer I wait, the more nervous I get.”

“And more the
chance of someone else running off with our treasure, hey?” exclaimed Zarfo. “That
would be a sad case!”

“Give us
three days to arrange our affairs,” said Jag Jaganig.

“And what of
the five thousand sequins?” demanded Thadzei. “Why not distribute the money
now, so that we may have the use of it?”

Reith
hesitated no longer than a tenth of a second. “Since you must trust me, I must
trust you.” He paid to each of the marveling Lokhars fifty purple sequins,
worth a hundred white sequins each.

“Excellent!”
declared jag Jaganig. “Remember all! Utter discretion! Spies are everywhere. In
particular I distrust that peculiar stranger at the inn who dresses like a Yao.”