Throy (16 page)

As the flitter flew to the east, the Scaime widened and the continent Myrdal faded over the horizon. Below appeared a meadow. In a multitude of small garden plots women wearing gray smocks and pale blue turbans were at work. From a cliff north of the meadow a waterfall plunged a thousand feet into a pool, then became a stream meandering across the meadow, past a huddle of rude huts.

Nominy landed the flitter close beside the village; the three men jumped to the ground and looked about.

The huts showed a striking variation in quality. Some were little more than piles of reeds and sticks; others had been fashioned with planks cut from punk-wood, and thatched with palm fronds. About a third had been built with care and even skill, on stone foundations with posts and beams of timbers, sheathed with punk-wood planks and roofed with tiles of metamorphosed biotite.

The village was quiet except for pounding and rasping sounds from what appeared to be a communal workshop. Children playing in the dirt paused a few moments to inspect the strangers, then proceeded with their play. A few men and women peered from the doorways, but finding nothing of interest, disappeared back into the dim interiors. The women stalwart, rather squat, with coarse black hair, heavy features and large eyes, lacked the supple beauty of the typical Yip woman, but compensated for the lack through the vigor and efficiency of their work. The fields and garden plots were cultivated by women, though a few, by one means or another, had enlisted the unenthusiastic help of a man, presumably her spouse.

Chilke spoke to Nominy: “I think you mentioned that the women are all local stock?”

“None of them are Yips, at any rate. A few might be from off-world, brought here by bridge personnel. Why do you ask?”

“Because of the children.”

Nominy looked them over. “They seem quite ordinary, except for dirt.”

“On Cadwal the union of Yip and non-Yip produces no issue
¹
.”

          “That is not the case here.”

“One thing is clear,” said Glawen. “There is no sign of Barduys.”

          “I expected none,” said Nominy cheerfully. “But perhaps we shall learn the source of his interest. Such facts are often of utility.” He settled his hat and fluffed out his mutton-chop whiskers. “Allow me to conduct the interview; I have had some experience with these chaps and know how to handle them.”

          Glawen demurred. “Chilke and I are both well acquainted with the Yips. They are more sensitive than you suppose. It will be better if you stay in the background.”

“As you wish,” said Nominy curtly. “But don’t blame me for your mistakes.”

The three approached one of the more imposing huts: a structure of two rooms, with walls of stone and a roof tiled with irregular-plates of pale grey schist. The shadows of the interior stirred; a man stepped out into the pale light of Tyr Gog. He was tall, with good physique, dark golden hair, golden-bronze skin and well-shaped features.

Glawen spoke. “We are trying to catch up with the ship that landed here this morning.”

“You are too late. It is gone.”

“Were you here when the ship landed?”

          “Yes.”

          “Were the folk in the ship polite?”

“Yes; suitably so.”

“I’m glad to hear this, since they are our friends and we are trying to find them. Did they say where they were going?”

“They failed to explain their plans.”

“But, as an observant man, you notice many things.”

“True. I am constantly amazed by the number of small details which present themselves, to be observed or ignored, as one chooses.”

           “Can you tell us what you noticed in connection with the folk of the ship?”

“Certainly, if you care to pay me for my trouble.”

          “That is a reasonable request. Commander Chilke, please pay this gentleman five sols.”

“With pleasure, so long as I get it back.”

“You may reimburse yourself from the petty cash.”

Chilke paid over the money, which the Yip accepted with somber dignity.

“So then,” said Glawen. “What happened this morning?”

“The ship landed. Several persons came out. One was the captain; another was a woman of haughty demeanor, or so I interpreted it. In any case, I was unconcerned. The two, captain and woman, came to talk with me. They admired my house, and said that the roof was especially fine. I told them that my woman had become weary of sleeping in the rain and had insisted upon proper shelter. She advised me that stone was a good material, and would save me toil in the end, and I believe she is correct in this, since some of the other huts have already blown down several times in the storm, and now everyone is considering the wisdom of building in stone. One of the ship’s crew said something about ‘social evolution,’ but I do not know what was meant.”

Chilke said: “They probably were referring to changes in your style of life.”

“Is that any cause for surprise? How could it be otherwise? On Cadwal we lived like fish in a tank. Namour took us away, but he is a great liar, and things were never as he said they would be. Can you believe it? After taking us far from home, and even while sick and lonely, they wanted us to toil.”

Nominy said, a trifle scornfully: “If you had done your proper work at Tenwy, you would have paid off your debt and by now you would have been living in one of the fine houses in the compound.”

The Yip looked off across the meadow. “When the Yip works, the supervisor laughs to himself. After a time, the Yip thinks of better things and stops working, and the supervisor stops laughing. Here I work for myself. I carry a stone down from the hill and it is mine.”

“That is definitely social evolution,” said Chilke. “When you talked to Lewyn Barduys - he is the captain - did he say where he was going?”

“Barduys said nothing.”

Chilke thought to sense a nuance in the phrasing of the Yip’s response. He asked: “What of the woman?”

The Yip said tonelessly: “Barduys asked if we had seen Namour recently. I said no. The woman told Barduys: ‘He will be on Rosalia, and we will find him there.’”

There was nothing more to be learned. As the three turned to leave, Glawen asked the Yip: “Did you know Catterline or Selious?”

          “There was an Oomp named Catterline. I never knew Selious, though I have heard the name. He was also an

Oomp
²
.”

“Do you know where they are now?”

“No.”

Chapter 5

Chapter 5, Part I

A current edition of
HANDBOOK TO THE PLANETS
informed Glawen as to the physical characteristics of Rosalia, its complicated geography, and much else. Eight large continents, along with a myriad of islands, were caught up in a mesh of seas, bays, channels and, straits, with here and there an area of open water large enough to qualify for the term ‘ocean.’ In effect, Rosalia, with a diameter of seventy-six hundred miles, aggregated a land-area double that of Earth.

The flora and fauna were diverse, though not, in general, hostile to the Gaean presence. Notable exceptions existed, such as the tree-waifs who lived in high foliage; the water-waifs resident in rivers, swamps and wet barrens of the far north; and the wind-waifs of the deserts. All were notorious for their mysterious habits. Their activities seemed motivated by caprice mingled with a weird logic, so that their antics were a constant source of horrified fascination.

          Rosalia was sparsely inhabited. The population of port Mona, the largest town, varied between twenty and forty thousand, fluctuating with the coming and going of transient workers. At Port Mona was the space terminal, a number of more or less stylish hotels, agencies, shops and the administrative offices of a curious double government
¹
.

The original locator had been the legendary William Whipsnade, or, more often, ‘Wild Willie.’ He had blocked off Rosalia’s land surface into segments a hundred miles on a side, which he thereupon sold at a grand auction. Fifty years later, when the dust settled, the Factor’s Land Management association was founded, with a membership limited to one hundred and sixty ranchers. By the terms of the association’s First Covenant, the ranchers agreed never to subdivide their acreages - though they might sell parcels to a rancher with lands adjoining their own, so that while some ranches expanded, others dwindled. Boggins’ Willow Glen Ranch covered almost a million square miles, the Aigle-Mort and the Stronsi Ranches included almost the same; others like the Black Lily and the Iron Triangle Ranches measured only a hundred thousand square miles and Flalique barely sixty thousand.

The ranches, in the absence of intensive cultivation, produced little wealth, which in any event was not perceived as their function. To augment income a few of the ranchers took to entertaining tourists at ranch headquarters, bedding them down in bunkhouses, feeding them out of cook-shacks and charging high prices for the privilege. The tourists, in return, were allowed to enjoy the scenery which included the Wild Honey Plains with its profusion of small flowering plants and moths camouflaged as flowers; the Dinton Forest where featherwoods, pipe trees and brouhas grew seven hundred feet tall, and the tree-waifs were often furiously obnoxious, especially when a tourist wandered alone into the forest; also the Mystic Isles of the Muran Bay and the multi-colored desert known as the Tif, where wind-waifs were wont to produce illusions and awful images formed of smoke in order to terrify the tourists and steal their garments.

Shadow Valley Ranch, with an area of six hundred thousand miles, included within its boundaries the Morczy Mountains, Pavan Lake and a dozen subsidiary ponds, several fine forests and a parkland savannah, where herds of the long-legged yellow bong-bird grazed. Shadow Valley Ranch was owned by Titus Zigonie, a plump little man with a bush of white hair and a pink complexion. One day, at Lipwillow, a town on the Big Muddy River, he chanced to meet an off-worlder named Namour. The event changed Titus Zigonie’s life. Namour introduced him to a dynamic lady named Simonetta Clattuc who seemed kindly, soft-spoken and immensely competent - in short, someone whom he could rely upon to handle all the irksome details of life; before he quite realized what was happening, Titus Zigonie had married this fine woman who was always right.

Namour also imported a group of indentured Yips: handsome young men and adorable maidens who would perform the work of the far-flung ranch. The experiment had not proved a success. The Yips never quite understood the process which had transferred them from Yipton, to the strange landscapes of Rosalia. On top of all else, they found that they were required to work amazingly long hours, not just one day, but day after day, without cessation, for no perceptible reason. The circumstances were puzzling, and the goal of paying off the transportation fee (plus a fee for Namour) lacked all appeal.

One day Namour brought out an elderly man from the world Cadwal, whom he introduced as ‘Calyactus, Oomphaw of the Yips.’ Madame Zigonie instantly noticed the resemblance between her husband and Calyactus; nor had the resemblance escaped Namour. During a rather strenuous visit to the Garden of Dido, Calyactus - who had not wanted to go in the first place - suffered a tragic accident, and it seemed only sensible that Titus Zigonie should become the new Oomphaw. Who would know? Who would care? Who would protest? No one.

So it was explained to Titus Zigonie. He protested that he had no experience in this line of work, but Smonny said that little work was involved, other than presenting a stern and dignified appearance in public, while in private he need only supervise a retinue of Yip maidens. Titus said, well, he’d give it a try.

With Namour and Smonny, Titus Pompo, the new Oomphaw, journeyed to Yipton, and thereafter was seldom seen at Shadow Valley Ranch.

Chapter 5, Part II

William (Wild Willie) Whipsnade, the locator who first laid claim to Rosalia, had been notably susceptible to the charms of comely women whom he met in places far and near across the Gaean Reach. To memorialize some of these pleasant episodes, he named his planet ‘Rosalia,’ its first city ‘Port Mona,’ and the eight continents Ottilie, Eclin, Koukou, Yellow Nelly, La Mar, Trinky, Hortense and Almyra.

The Fortunatus approached Rosalia and landed at the Port Mona Terminal. Glawen and Chilke dealt with official formalities, then went out into the lobby: a high octagonal chamber, each wall panelled with boards cut from a different local tree: featherwood, coluca, damson, brouha, sporade, native hornbeam, bloodwood, and splendida. Far above, triangular panels of glass, alternately dull orange and ash-blue, joined at a central point, like the cap of an eight-sided crystal. The effect might have been impressive had it not been for a pervasive dinginess.

          The lobby was deserted. Glawen and Chilke went to the register which listed spaceship arrivals and departures over the prior six months and a putative schedule for the next six. They found no mention of the
Elyssoi
.

“I see three possibilities,” said Chilke. “All pose difficulties. First, Barduys has not arrived yet. Second, he has arrived but landed somewhere other than Port Mona - perhaps at one of the ranches. Third, he changed his mind and is not coming at all.”

“If he has not arrived, he will be hard to find,” Glawen agreed. The two departed the terminal and stood in the tawny light of the dark-yellow sun. The road was deserted. Beside a nearby dragon’s-eye tree stood a Yip, plucking and eating the fruits with no great enthusiasm. The cab-rank was deserted. A mile to the east were the outlying structures of Port Mona.

Chilke called to the Yip: “Where are the cabs?”

“There are no ships, coming or going; why should there be cabs?”

“Just so. Do you want to carry our luggage into town?”