Planet of Adventure Omnibus (47 page)

“The
situation is discouraging,” Reith agreed. “Can you help us?”

Helsse raised
his eyebrows. “Why should I? I find you personally offensive, without humility
or ease. You have subjected me to a hundred indignities; your pro-’cult’ bias
is repulsive; the theft of a space vessel with an Original aboard makes your
request absurd.”

Reith
considered him a moment. “May I ask why you are here?”

“Certainly.
To supply information in regard to you and your activities.”

Reith mulled
the matter over. “Are we so important?”

“So it would
seem,” said Helsse indifferently.

Four Wankh
entered the chamber, and stood by the far wall: four massive black shadows.
Helsse stood straighter; the other Wankhmen became silent. It was apparent,
thought Reith, that whatever the total attitude of the Wankhmen toward the
Wankh might be, that attitude included a great deal of respect.

The prisoners
were urged forward, and ranged in a line before the Wankh. A minute passed,
during which nothing happened. Then the Wankh exchanged chimes: soft muffled
sounds at half-second intervals, apparently unintelligible to the Wankhmen.
Another silence ensued, then the Wankh addressed the Wankhmen, producing triads
of three quick notes, like xylophone trills, in what seemed to be a simplified
or elemental usage.

The oldest
Wankhman stepped forward, listened, turned to the prisoners. “Which of you is
the pirate-master?”

“None of us,”
said Reith. “We are not pirates.”

One of the
Wankh uttered interrogatory chimes. Reith thought he recognized the Original
Master. The Wankhman, somewhat grudgingly, brought forth a small keyed
instrument which he manipulated with astonishing deftness.

“Tell him
further,” said Reith, “that we regret the inconvenience we caused him.
Circumstances compelled us to take him aloft.”

“You are not
here to argue,” said the Wankhman, “but to render information, after which the
usual processes will occur.”

Again the
Master uttered chimes and was answered. Reith asked: “What is he saying, and
what did you tell him?”

The senior
Wankhman said, “Speak only when you are directly addressed.”

Helsse came
forward, and producing his own instrument, played chimes at length. Reith began
to feel uneasy and frustrated. Events were ranging far beyond his control. “What
is Helsse saying?”

“Silence.”

“At least
inform the Wankh that we have a case which we want to present.”

“You will be
notified if it becomes necessary for you to testify. The hearing is almost at
an end.”

“But we haven’t
had a chance to speak!”

“Silence!
Your persistence is offensive!”

Reith turned
to Zarfo. “Tell the Wankh something! Anything!”

Zarfo blew
out his cheeks. Pointing at the Wankhmen he made chirping sounds. The senior
Wankhman said sternly: “Quiet, you are interrupting.”

“What did you
tell him?” asked Reith.

“I said, ‘Wrong,
wrong, wrong.’ That’s all I know.”

The Master
spoke chimes, indicating Reith and Zarfo. The senior Wankhman, visibly exasperated,
said: “The Wankh want to know where you planned to commit your piracies, or,
rather, where you planned to take the spaceship.”

“You are not
translating correctly,” protested Reith. “Did you tell him that we are not
pirates?”

Zarfo again
made sounds for “Wrong, wrong, wrong!”

The Wankhman
said, “You are obviously pirates, or lunatics.” Turning back to the Wankh, he
played his instrument, misrepresenting, so Reith was sure, what had been said.
Reith turned to Helsse. “What is he telling them? That we are not pirates?”

Helsse
ignored him.

Zarfo
guffawed, to everyone’s astonishment. He muttered in Reith’s ear: “Remember the
Dugbo? Pinch Helsse’s nose.”

Reith said, “Helsse.”

Helsse turned
him an austere gaze. Reith stepped forward, tweaked his nose. Helsse seemed to
become rigid. “Tell the Wankh that I am a man of Earth, the world of human
origin,” said Reith, “that I took the spaceship only in order to return home.”

Helsse
woodenly played a set of trills and runs. The other Wankhmen became instantly agitated-sufficient
proof that Helsse had translated accurately. They began to protest, to press
forward, to drown out Helsse’s chimes, only to be brought up short by a great
belling sound from the Master.

Helsse
continued, and at last came to an end.

“Tell them
further,” said Reith, “that the Wankhmen falsified my remarks, that they
consistently do so to further their private purposes.”

Helsse
played. The other Wankhmen again started a great protest, and again were
rebuked.

Reith warmed
to his task. He voiced one of his surmises, striking boldly into the unknown: “Tell
them that the Wankhmen destroyed my spaceship, killing all aboard except
myself. Tell them that our mission was innocent, that we came investigating
radio signals broadcast a hundred and fifty Tschai-years ago. At this time the
Wankhmen destroyed the cities Settra and Ballisidre from which the signals
emanated, with great loss of life, and all for the same reason: to prevent a
new situation which might disturb the Wankh-Dirdir stalemate.”

The instant
uproar among the Wankhmen convinced Reith that his accusations had struck home.
Again they were silenced.

Helsse played
the instrument with the air of a man astounded by his own actions.

“Tell them,”
said Reith, “that the Wankhmen have systematically distorted truth. They
undoubtedly have prolonged the Dirdir war. Remember, if the war ended, the
Wankh would return to their home world, and the Wankhmen would be thrown upon
their own resources.”

Helsse,
gray-faced, struggled to drop the instrument, but his fingers refused to do his
bidding. He played. The other Wankhmen stood in dead silence. This was the most
telling accusation of all. The senior Wankhman shouted: “The interview is at an
end! Prisoners, form your line! March!”

Reith told
Helsse: “Request that the Wankh order all the other Wankhmen to depart, so that
we may communicate without interruption.”

Helsse’s face
twitched; sweat poured down his face.

“Translate my
message,” said Reith.

Helsse
obeyed.

Silence held
the chamber, with the Wankhmen gazing in apprehension toward the Wankh.

The Master
uttered two chimes.

The Wankhmen
muttered among themselves. They came to a terrible decision. Out came their
weapons; they turned them, not upon the prisoners, but upon the four Wankh.
Reith and Traz sprang forward, followed by the Lokhars. The weapons were
wrested away.

The Master
uttered two quiet chimes.

Helsse
listened, then slowly turned to Reith. “He commands that you give me the weapon
you hold.”

Reith
relinquished the gun. Helsse turned toward the other three Wankhmen, pushed the
trigger-button. The three fell dead, their heads shattered.

The Wankh
stood a moment in silence, assessing the situation. Then they departed the
hall. The erstwhile prisoners remained with Helsse and the corpses. Reith took
the gun from Helsse’s cold fingers, before he thought to use it again.

The chamber
began to grow murky with the coming of dusk. Reith studied Helsse, wondering
how long the hypnotic state would persist. He said, “Take us outside the walls.”

“Come.”

Through the
black and gray city Helsse took the group, finally to a small steel door.
Helsse touched a latch; the door swung aside. Beyond, a spine of rock led
through the dusk to the mainland.

The group
filed through the gap into the open air. Reith turned to Helsse. “Ten minutes
after I touch your shoulder, resume your normal condition. You will remember
nothing of what has happened during the last hour. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Reith touched
Helsse’s shoulder; the group hurried away through the twilight. Before a jut of
rock hid them from sight Reith looked back. Helsse stood where they had left
him, looking somewhat wistfully after them.

IN A PATCH of
rough forestland the group slumped down in total fatigue, their stomachs
crawling with hunger. By the light of the two moons Traz searched through the
undergrowth and found a clump of pilgrim plant, and the group made their first
meal in two days. Somewhat refreshed, they moved on through the night, up a
long slope. At the top of the ridge, they turned to look back, toward the
gloomy silhouette of Ao Khaha on the moonlit sky. For a few minutes they stood,
each man thinking his own thoughts, then they continued north.

In the
morning over a breakfast of toasted fungus, Reith opened his pouch. “The
expedition has been a failure. As I promised, each man receives another five
thousand sequins. Take them now, with my gratitude for your loyalty.”

Zarfo took
the purple-glowing pellets gingerly, weighed them in his fingers. “Above all I
am an honest man, and since this was the structure of the contract, I will
accept the money.”

Jag Jaganig
said: “Let me ask you a question, Adam Reith. You told the Wankh that you were
a man from a far world, the home of man. Is this correct?”

“It is what I
told the Wankh.”

“You are such
a man, from such a planet?”

“Yes. Even
though Anacho the Dirdirman makes a wry face.”

“Tell us
something of this planet.”

Reith spoke
for an hour, while his comrades sat staring into the fire.

Anacho at
last cleared his throat. “I do not doubt your sincerity. But, as you say, the
history of Earth is short compared to the history of Tschai. It is obvious that
far in the past the Dirdir visited Earth and left a colony from which all
Earthmen are descended.”

“I could
prove otherwise,” said Reith, “if our venture had been successful and we had
all journeyed to Earth.”

Anacho poked
the fire with a stick. “Interesting ... The Dirdir of course would not sell or
transfer a spaceship. Such a theft as we perpetrated upon the Wankh would be
impossible. Still-at the Great Sivishe Spaceyards almost any component can be
acquired, by purchase or discreet arrangement. One only needs sequins, a
considerable sum, true.”

“How much?”
asked Reith.

“A hundred
thousand sequins would work wonders.”

“No doubt. At
the moment I have barely the hundredth part of that.”

Zarfo threw
over his five thousand sequins. “Here. It pains me like the loss of a leg. But
let these be the first coins in the pot.”

Reith
returned the money. “At the moment they would only make a forlorn rattling
sound.”

Thirteen days
later the group came down out of the Ifnets to Blalag, where they boarded a
power wagon and so returned to Smargash.

For three
days Reith, Anacho and Traz ate, slept and watched the young folk at their
dancing.

On the evening
of the third day Zarfo joined them in the taproom. “All look sleek and lazy.
Have you heard the news?”

“What news?”

“First, I
have acquired a delightful property on a bend of the Whisfer River, with five
fine keels, three psillas and an asponistra, not to mention the tayberries.
Here I shall end my days-unless you tempt me forth on another mad venture.
Secondly, two technicians this morning returned to Smargash from Ao Hidis. Vast
changes are in the wind! The Wankhmen are departing the fortresses; they have
been driven out and now live in huts with the Blacks and Purples. It appears
that the Wankh will no longer tolerate their presence.”

Reith
chuckled. “At Dadiche we found an alien race exploiting men. At Ao Hidis we
found men exploiting an alien race. Both conditions are now changed. Anacho,
would you care to be liberated from your enervating philosophy and become a
sane man?”

“I want
demonstration, not words. Take me to Earth.” “We can hardly walk there.”

“At the Great
Sivishe Spaceyards are a dozen spaceboats, needing only procurement and
assembly.”

“Yes, but
where are the sequins?”

“I don’t
know,” said Anacho.

“Nor I,” said
Traz.

THE SUN
CARINA 4269 had passed into the constellation Tartusz, to mark the onset of
Balul Zac Ag, the “unnatural dream time,” when slaughter, slave-taking, pillage
and arson came to a halt across the Lokhar Highlands. Balul Zac Ag was the
occasion for the Great Fair at Smargash, or perhaps the Great Fair had come
first, eventually to generate Balul Zac Ag after unknown hundreds of years.
From across the Lokhar Highlands and the regions surrounding Xar, Zhurveg,
Seraf, Niss and others came to Smargash to mingle and trade, to resolve stale
feuds, to gather intelligence. Hatred hung in the air like a stench; covert
glances and whispered curses, in-drawn hisses of detestation accented the color
and confusion of the bazaar. Only the Lokhars (the men black-skinned and
white-haired, the women whiteskinned and black-haired) maintained faces of
placid unconcern.