The Blue World (15 page)

Barquan Blasdel,
his spouse, his two older daughters and their lovers, together with
Luke Robinet and Vidal Reach, were missing, as was a sturdy coracle.
Their plans had been daring, carefully laid and precisely executed.
For weeks they had secreted stores in a nook to the far side of the
float, near Meril Rohan’s school. Secretly oars, a mast, and a sail
had been fabricated. Then they had awaited the capture or a second
kragen, assuming correctly that the attention of everyone would be
diverted.

The two young men,
spouses to Blasdel’s daughters made off with the coracle. Even with a
kragen in mid-air, the sight of Barquan Blasdel in a coracle might
well have attracted attention. The two-young men were more
inconspicuous. They untied the coracle, paddled it around to the
south side of the float. The stores were loaded aboard, all embarked,
oars were shipped and the coracle sent scudding away from New Home
Float. By sheer bad luck at woman rendered squeamish by pregnancy had
put the breadth of the float between her and the landing of the
kragen and had seen the coracle disappearing around Outcry Float.

Phyral Berwick
dispatched ten coracles in instant pursuit, but by this time evening
was at hand, with an unusually brisk wind. What with the sail; all
hands at the oars, the dusk, and dozens of floats to hide among there
was small chance that the fugitive coracle be overtaken. Barquan
Blasdel might even choose to veer north or south and so lose himself
the more completely; search coracles stayed out all night. Eight
searched the floats, ghosting hack and forth along the star-lit
channels; two struck west as fast and hard as the most stalwart
swindlers could take them. When dawn came to throw a pearl-colored
light over the sea, the new floats were almost invisible to the east,
but the searchers were alone on the sea. Barquan Blasdel’s coracle
was nowhere to be seen. Those searching among the floats fared no
better. All returned to New Home Float on the dawn wind.

A convocation of
the councilors was called to consider the situation. Some bemoaned
the leniency which had been extended the fugitive intercessors. “Why
did we allow our qualms to conquer us?” moaned Robin Magram. We
should have made a clean job and strangled the lot.”

Berwick nodded
patiently. “You may be right. I for one could not bring myself
to commit murder, though it would have been to our best interests.”
He jerked his thumb toward the huts in which lurked the remaining
intercessors. “What of them? Each wishes us evil. Each is now
planning the same despicable act as that performed by Blasdel. Let us
kill them now—quietly, without malice, but with a beautiful
finality!”

Hast made a morose
objection. “This would do no good. We would become murderers in
all truth. The fat is now in the fire. In fact, we would do better by
turning them free—giving them a coracle and sending them
off.”

“Not so fast!”
protested Rollo Barnack. “Barquan may never reach the Home
Floats!”

“He need
merely sail on the night wind and paddle,” said Sklar Hast. “But
very well, let us wait till we know for sure what has eventuated.”

Robin Magram
growled, “If Barquan Blasdel returns to the old floats, one
eventuation is sure. We must expect hostile actions. The man is a
vessel of malice.”

“Not
necessarily,” argued Phyral Berwick. “Remember—the
folk of the floats are by and large sensible. They are our
caste-brothers, our friends, our relatives. What do they gain by
attacking us?”

“We have
escaped King Kragen; we acknowledge no overlord,” said Sklar
Hast pessimistically. “Misery brings jealousy and resentment.
The intercessors will whip them to a sullen fury.” He pitched
his voice to a nasal falsetto. “‘Those insolent fugitives!
How dare they scamp their responsibility to noble King Kragen? How
dare they perform such bestial outrages against lesser kragen?
Everyone to the coracles! We go to purify the iconoclasts!’”

“Possibly
correct,” said Kelso. “But the intercessor are by no means
the only influential folk of the floats. The arbiters will hardly
agree to any such schemes.”

“In essence,”
said Phyral Berwick, “we have no information. We speculate in a
void. Barquan Blasdel may lose himself on the ocean and never return
to Old Floats. He may be greeted with apathy or with excitement. We
talk without knowledge. It seems to me that we should take steps to
inform ourselves as to the true state of affairs—in short,
that we send spies to derive this information for us.”

Phyral Berwick’s
proposal ultimately became the decision of all. It was further
decided that the remaining intercessors be guarded more carefully,
until it was definitely learned whether or not Barquan Blasdel had
returned to the Old Floats. If such were the case, the location of
the New Floats was no longer a secret, and the consensus was that the
remaining intercessors should likewise be allowed to return, should
they choose to do so. Robin Magram considered the decision
soft-headed. “Do you think they would warrant us like treatment
in a similar situation? Remember, they planned that King Kragen
should waylay us!”

“True enough,”
said Arrel Sincere wearily, “but what of that? We can either
kill them, hold them under guard or let them go their way, the last
option being the least taxing and the most honorable.”

Robin Magram made
no further protest, and the council then concerned itself with the
details of the projected spy operation. None of the coracles at hand
were considered suitable, and it was decided to build a coracle of
special design—long, light, low to the water, with two sails
of fine weave to catch every whisper of wind. Three men were named to
the operation, all originally from Almack Float, a small community
far to the east, in fact next to Sciona, at the end of the chain.
None of the three had acquaintance on Apprise and so stood minimal
chance of being recognized.

The coracle was
built at once. A light keel of laminated and glued withe was shaped
around pegs driven into the float; ribs were bent and lashed into
place; diagonal ribs were attached to these, then the whole was
covered with four layers of varnished pad-skin.

At mid-morning of
the fourth day after Barquan Blasdel’s flight, the coracle, almost a
canoe, departed to the west, riding easily and swiftly over the sunny
water. In its gear was included the horn taken from Barquan Blasdel’s
old workroom on Apprise Float. For three hours it slid along the line
of floats, each an islet bedecked in blue, green, purple, orange, and
black verdure, surmounted by the arching fronds of the prime plant,
each surrounded by its family of smaller pads. The coracle reached
the final float of the group and struck out to the west, water
swirling and sparkling behind the long oars. Afternoon waned; the
rain clouds formed and swept across the sky, with black brooms
hanging below. After the rain came sunset, making a glorious display
among the broken clouds. The breeze began to blow; the sails were
raised; the men pulled in their oars and rested. The coracle thrust
swiftly west, with a chuckling of bow wave and wake; then came the
mauve dusk with the constellations appearing, and then night with the
stars shining down on the glossy black water. The men took turns
sleeping, and the night passed. Before dawn the adverse wind rose;
the men, saving their strength, rowed with enough force to maintain
headway.

The second day
passed in a like manner. The first line of floats met by the flotilla
fell behind, somewhat to the north. Another day went by. The floats
of the savages failed to appear; presumably they had been passed
during the night. Just before dawn of the fourth day the men lowered
the horn into the water and listened.

Silence.

The men stood
erect, looked into the west. Allowing for the increased speed of
their passage, Tranque Float should be near at hand. But only a blank
horizon could be seen.

At noon the men,
increasingly dubious, ceased paddling and once more searched the
horizon. As before, there was nothing visible save the line dividing
dark blue from bright blue. The floats by now should be well within
sight.

Had they veered too
far north or too far south? The men deliberated and decided that
while their course had generally been true west, the original
direction of flight might have been something south of east. In
validation of this view was the fact that they had passed the
intervening line of floats to the south. Hence Old Floats in all
probability lay behind the northern horizon. They agreed to paddle
four hours to the north, then, if nothing was seen, to return to the
south.

Toward the waning
of afternoon, with the rain clouds piling up, far smudges showed
themselves. Now they halted, lowered the horn, to hear ‘crunch
crunch crunch’ with startling loudness. The men twisted the
tube to detect the direction of the sound. It issued from the north.
Crouching low, they listened, ready to paddle away if the sound grew
louder. But it seemed to lessen and the direction veered to the east.
Presently it reached near-inaudibility, and the men proceeded.

The floats took on
substance, extending both east and west; soon the characteristic
profiles could be seen and then the hoodwink towers. Dead ahead was
Aumerge, with Apprise Float yet to the west.

So they paddled up
the chain, the floats and beloved names drifting past, floats where
their ancestors had lived and died; Aumerge, Quincunx, Fay,

Hastings,
Quatrefoil with its curious cloverleaf shape and then the little
outer group, The Bandings, beyond, after a gap of a mile, Apprise
Float.

The sun set, the
hoodwink towers began to flicker, but the configurations could not be
read. The men paddled the coracle toward Apprise. Verdure bulked up
into the sky; the sounds and odors of the Old Floats wafted across
the water, inflicting nostalgic pangs upon each of the men. They
landed in a secluded little cove which had been described to them by
Phyral Berwick, and covered the coracle with leaves and rubbish.
According to the plan, two remained by the coracle, while the third,
one Henry Bastaff, went off across the float toward the central
common and Apprise Market.

Hundreds of people
were abroad on this pleasant evening, but Henry Bastaff thought their
mood to be weary and even a trifle grim. He went to the ancient
Apprise Inn, which claimed to be the oldest building of the floats: a
long shed beamed with twisted old stalks, reportedly cut at the
astounding depth of three hundred feet. Within was a long buffet
constructed of laminated strips, golden-brown with wax and use.
Shelves to the rear,displayed jars and tubes of arrack, beer, and
spirits of life, together with various delicacies and sweetmeats.

At the front wide
eaves thatched with garwort fronds shaded several dozen tables and
benches where travelers rested and lovers kept rendezvous. Henry
Bastaff seated himself where he could watch both the Apprise hoodwink
tower and that of Quatrefoil to the east. The serving maid
approached; he ordered beer and nut wafers. As he drank and ate, he
listened to conversations at nearby tables and read the messages
which flickered and down the line of floats.

The conversations
were uninformative; the hoodwink messages were the usual compendium
of announcements; messages, banter. Then suddenly in mid-message came
a blaze, all eighteen lights together, to signal views of great
importance. Henry Bastaff sat up straight on the bench.

“
Important …
information! … This … afternoon … several … of … the …
intercessors … kidnapped … by … the … rebels … returned …
to … the … Floats… They … are … Barquan Blasdel … of …
Apprise … with … his … spouse … and … several …
dependents … Vidal Reach … of … Sumber … Luke Robinet … of
… Parnassus … They … have … a … harrowing… tale … to
… tell … The … rebels … are … established … on … a …
float … to … the … east … where … they … kill … kragen
… with … merciless … glee … and … plan … a … war … of
… extermination … upon … the … folk … of … the … Old
… Floats … The … intercessors … escaped … and … after …
an … unnerving … voyage … across … the … uncharted …
ocean … late … today … landed … at … Green Lamp Float …
Barquan Blasdel … has … called … for … an … immediate …
convocation … to … consider … what … measures … to … take
… against … the … rebels … who … daily … wax … in …
arrogance.
”

Six days later
Henry Bastaff reported to the council of New Home Float. “Our
arrival was precarious, for our initial direction took us many miles
to the south of the Old Floats. Next time we must keep to the north
of the floats intervening, whereupon we should make an easy landfall.
Apparently the Blasdel coracle experienced even worse difficulties,
for they reached Green Lamp about the same time we landed on Apprise.
Possibly they delayed on one of our floats until they felt we had
given up pursuit. I sat at the Old Tavern when the news came, and I
saw great excitement. The people seemed more curious than vindictive,
even somewhat wistful. I heard no talk of King Kragen except one
re-mark, somewhat ambiguous, to the effect that the rebels were
perfectly welcome to attempt the slaughter of certain local kragen. A
convocation was called for the following day. Since the folk of
Almack Float would attend, I thought it best that Maible and Barway
remain hidden. I stained my face swindler color, shaved away most of
my eyebrows, pulled my hair forward, and wore a swindler‘s
hood. I seemed the most inept of swindlers: half goon, half
advertiser. At the convocation I looked eye to eye with my uncle
Fodor the withe-peeler, who never turned a second glance.

The convocation was
vehement and lengthy. Barquan Blasdel resumed his rank of Apprise
Intercessor, without a moment’s hesitation or as much as a
by-your-leave.

In my opinion Vrink
Smathe, who had succeeded to the post, found no joy in Blasdel’s
return. He sat three rows back, bereft of his gown and nosepiece,
frowning and blinking every time Blasdel spoke, which was almost
continually.

“With great
earnestness Blasdel called for a punitive expedition. He spoke of
those who had departed as ‘iconoclasts’, ‘monsters’,
‘vicious scum of the world’, which it was the duty of all
decent folk to expunge.

“A certain
number were stimulated, mostly those whom I would call the lowest
element: folk of low prestige, unskilled, unknowledgeable and jealous
of their betters. But these were few. In general he aroused only
lukewarm attention. No one of importance showed heart for the
project. The new intercessors in particular were less than
enthusiastic. Clearly they covet their new posts, which they would
lose if the old intercessors returned.

“Blasdel,
seeing that he had aroused no vast sympathy for his wrongs, almost
lost his temper, which is a rare thing to see in Barquan Blasdel. He
accused those who were reluctant of cowardice and complacence, and so
aroused antagonism. Everyone knows the temper of Emacho Feroxibus,
Elder of the Quatrefoil Bezzlers. He is highly orthodox; still he is
no poltroon. Very brusquely he instructed Blasdel to speak with a
less pointed tongue: ‘No one questions your zeal, but let it be
applied to constructive purposes! What avail is there in destroying
these folk? They are gone; good riddance. We shall maintain our
ancient ways with more dedication because the dissidents have
departed! I, for one, do not care to hear any further rabble
rousing!’

“I must say
that Barquan Blasdel was not at all cowed. He said, ‘It is all
very well to temporize, and no-one enjoys attempting an arduous and
uncomfortable task such as the one I propose. Nevertheless these are
unregenerates, creatures of the most depraved sort.’

“Feroxibus
laughed in his face. ‘If they are this evil how did they allow
you to live? Why did they not drown you?’

“Barquan
Blasdel was taken aback. But he said, ‘It is clear enough. They
feared discovery by King Kragen and planned that it the worst
occurred, we would intercede in their behalf.’

“Emacho
Feroxibus said no more, nor did Barquan Blasdel, and the convocation
ended without any decisive acts.

“But this was
only the convocation—the overt situation. I doubt if Barquan
Blasdel was surprised by the lack of response. His last act was to
call a meeting of all intercessors at the cottage of Vrink Smathe
that evening.

“I went back
to the coracle and conferred with Barway and Maible. Barway is a
deep-diver. With this attribute in mind, and recalling the typical
arrangement of an intercessor’s workroom, we evolved a means to
secure more information. Barway can tell you what occurred better
than I.”

Barway now made his
report. He was a year or two younger than Henry Bastaff, an expert
oarsman and a deep-diver of great endurance. He was an Advertiser-man
by caste, but had taken as a spouse the daughter of an Incendiary,
and was generally held in high esteem. He spoke modestly, in a
subdued manner.

“We made our
plans while the sun was still high. I took a bearing on Smathe’s hut,
put on my goggles, ducked under the float. I don’t know how many of
you have swum under a float, but it’s a beautiful sight. The water is
deep blue, overhead is the white subskin and down below go the stems
until finally they disappear into the depths. “Smathe’s hut was
about seventy-five yards from the edge. This is a distance I can swim
easily. But there and back, no. I would run out of air and drown
under the float, unless I could find a hole like the one we found in
Blasdel’s hut. I trailed a rope so that I could be hauled back and
revived it I failed to find the hut.

“But there was
no problem. Seventy-five yards from the edge of the float I saw the
dark hole above and then I rose and floated in the hole. The plug was
off. I was able to breathe. No-one was in the workroom. In an outer
chamber voices, which seemed to be those of Vrink Smathe and his
spouse. They were jointly lamenting the return of Barquan Blasdel. In
fact, Smathe’s spouse was upbraiding him for submitting so tamely to
Barquan Blasdel’s resumption of his position, and speaking in
language quite unbecoming a woman of the Bezzlers, as I believe her
caste to be.

“I did not
linger. I made my rope fast to the horn, so that after dark I could
find my way back. Then I returned to the coracle.

“We waited
until evening. Henry Bastaff went back to Apprise Inn and listened to
the talk, but heard nothing of consequence. As soon as we observed
intercessors entering Smathe’s hut, I took to the water, and guiding
myself by the rope, returned to the hole in the Smathe’s workroom.”

At this the members
of the council all gave a shudder, since the under-water by night was
a region of superstitious dread, especially under the pad: the locale
of children’s horror tales.

Barway continued.
“I was early. The intercessors continued to come in as I waited.
Vrink Smathe came to listen at the horn, and I was forced to
submerge. I had taken little air and began to feel strain. Smathe
turned the horn about, and I was forced to draw back when it pointed
toward me. It stopped—and I realized that Smathe could hear
my heartbeats. I swam to the other side of the hole and looked up
through the water. Smathe was listening with his ear down and eyes
turned away. I surfaced, took air, and went below once more.”
Barway laughed. The councilors responded with wry smiles. Barway was
understating the drama of the moment, as all knew.

“Smathe left
the horn. I surfaced. I heard him say, ‘For a moment I heard a
curious pounding sound: a ‘thump thump’. But it went away.’
Someone suggested that the sound was probably due to someone jumping
on the float, and Smathe agreed to this. And then Blasdel came into
the room.”

Barquan Blasdel
looked around the circle of intercessors, all of whom wore ceremonial
black gowns with float emblems. He spoke first to Vrink Smathe.
“Guards are posted against eavesdroppers?”

“Four
apprentices stand outside the hut, with lanterns. No one may
approach.”

“Good, What we
discuss now is of the utmost gravity and must not be disclosed, by
deed or action.

“First of all,
the intercessors now present must be ratified in their posts. Vidal
Reach, Luke Robinet, and relinquish our posts as Intercessors for
Sumber, Parnassus, and Apprise, and now become Central Authorities. I
hereby accede to the urgent suggestions made by many of you and will
become Supreme Presiding Intercessor for all the floats. Luke Robinet
and Vidal Reach will become my Chief Manciples.

“Now, to our
main business. In spite of the timidity and inertia of the
population, we cannot allow the rebels to continue in a state of
insubordination. The reasons for this are many. First, they dared to
attack King Kragen and to attempt his death: a deed of horror.
Secondly, they kidnapped fifteen intercessors, a most heinous act.
Third, even now they kill kragen with ever greater facility and
already are preparing an assault upon King Kragen. Fourthly, even if
they chose to remain quietly on their new floats, they represent a
challenge to King Kragen’s rule and thus to our authority. Fifthly,
they have subjected me, Vidal Reach, Luke Robinet, and all the rest
to the most repugnant indignities, thus by extension attacking the
whole institution of intercessorship: which is to say ourselves. We
must destroy them. Before I proceed, do I have your unanimous
approval and endorsement of the viewpoints I have just presented?”

Endorsement was
somewhat cautious but unanimous.

“These, then,
are my proposals. We will organize a militia to be called ‘The
Defenders’ or ‘King Kragen’s Admonitors,’ or ‘The
People’s Protectors’ or something similar. The able-bodied men
of the New Floats number less than a thousand. Probably not more than
five hundred would be fit to fight. To secure absolute and
overwhelming strength we must recruit a force of at least a thousand
active, strong and zealous young men. We shall train them in the use
of weapons and, more importantly, wash from their minds all
compunction, pity, or qualms against violence, and likewise do so in
ourselves. I realize we thus contradict our oldest and most cherished
tradition, but it is a worthy cause.

“When the
force is trained and equipped, we will embark in a suitable fleet of
coracles, go forth and subdue the rebels. The most vicious and
recalcitrant we must deal with definitely and finally; the rest shall
be brought back in shame to the main floats and reduced to a new and
low caste. Thus shall the lesson be driven home! Thus shall the power
and benevolence of King Kragen be asserted! Thus shall we maintain
and augment our own prestige!”

Barway reported the
exhortations of Barquan Blasdel in as careful detail as he was able,
in addition to discussion that followed. No one had offered serious
opposition to Barquan Blasdel’s plan; there had only been a
questioning as to ways and means.

“Did they
announce a time schedule?” asked Phyral Berwick.

“I gather that
they will begin immediately?”

“I would
expect as much.” Phyral Berwick heaved a deep sigh. “Thus
fear and pain and brutality come to the floats. It seems as if even
in spite of heritage we are little better than the folk of the Outer
Worlds.”

Sklar Hast said,
“We must contrive countermeasures. First, there is no further
point in keeping the intercessors captive. Better if now we give them
a coracle and send them home. In this way they will learn nothing of
our plans.”

“What are our
plans?” Arrel Sincere asked bleakly.

Sklar Hast
considered. “We have a number of alternatives. We could train a
militia of our own and trust to our own skill and strength.
Ultimately, after much bloodshed, I fear we would be defeated. We
could pack our belongings and flee once again, to seek a new far set
of floats. This is not an appealing idea. We can try to kill King
Kragen—but they would still attack us. Or we can defeat our
enemies by a strategy which so far I am unable to define … In the
meantime we must continue a close observation of the Home Floats.”