by Jack Vance
"Weamish is dead and his testimony is worth nothing."
"The facts remain. If you wish to make good your loss, then the classical recourse remains to you: raise the price to your ultimate customer. He must bear the brunt."
"There, at least, is a constructive suggestion," said Soldinck. "I will take it up with Mercantides. In the meantime, we will soon be shipping a mixed cargo south aboard the Galante, and we hope to include a parcel of scales. Can you assemble another order of four cases, within a day or so?"
Twango tapped his chin with a plump forefinger. "I will have to work overtime sorting and indexing; still, using all my reserves, I believe that I can put up an order of four cases within a day or two."
"That will be satisfactory, and I will report as much to Mercantides."
Two days later Cugel placed a hundred and ten scales, for the most part 'ordinaries', before Twango where he sat at his work table.
Twango stared in sheer amazement. "Where did you find these?"
"I seem to have plumbed the pocket from which Weamish took so many scales. These will no doubt balance my account."
Twango frowned down at the scales. "A moment while I look over the records. . . . Cugel, I find that you still owe fifty-three terces. You spent quite heavily in the refectory and I show extra charges upon which you perhaps failed to reckon."
"Let me see the invoices. ... I can make nothing of these records."
"Some were prepared by Gark and Gookin. They are perhaps a trifle indistinct."
Cugel threw down the invoices in disgust. "I insist upon a careful, exact and legible account!"
Twango spoke through compressed lips. "Your attitude, Cugel, is both brash and cynical. I am not favorably impressed."
"Let us change the subject," said Cugel. "When next do you expect to see Master Soldinck?"
"Sometime in the near future. Why do you ask?"
"I am curious as to his commercial methods. For instance, what would he charge Iucounu for a truly notable 'special', such as the 'Sky-break Spatterlight'?"
Twango said heavily: "I doubt if Master Soldinck would release this information. What, may I ask, is the basis for your interest?"
"No great matter. During one of our discussions, Weamish theorized that Soldinck might well prefer to buy expensive 'specials' direct from the diver, thus relieving you of considerable detail work."
For a moment Twango moved his lips without being able to produce words. At last he said: "The idea is inept, in all its phases. Master Soldinck would reject any and all scales of such dubious antecedents. The single authorized dealer is myself, and my seal alone guarantees authenticity. Each scale must be accurately identified and correctly indexed."
"And the invoices to your staff: they are also accurate and correctly indexed? Or, from sheer idle curiosity, shall I put the question to Master Soldinck?"
Twango angrily took up Cugel's account once again. "Naturally, there may be small errors, in one or another direction. They tend to balance out in the end. . . . Yes, I see an error here, where Gark misplaced a decimal point. I must counsel him to a greater precision. It is time you were serving tea to Yelleg and Malser. You must cure this slack behaviour! At Flutic we are brisk!"
Cugel sauntered out to the pond. The time was the middle afternoon of a day extraordinarily crisp, with peculiar black-purple clouds veiling the bloated red sun. A wind from the north creased the surface of the slime; Cugel shivered and pulled his cloak up around his neck.
The surface of the pond broke; Yelleg emerged and with crooked arms pulled himself ashore, to stand in a crouch, dripping ooze. He examined his gleanings but found only pebbles, which he discarded in disgust. Malser, on his hands and knees, clambered ashore and joined Yelleg; the two of them ran to the rest hut, only to emerge a moment later in a fury. "Cugel! Where is our tea? The fire is cold ashes! Have you no mercy?"
Cugel strolled over to the hut, where both Yelleg and Malser advanced upon him in a threatening manner. Yelleg shook his massive fist in Cugel's face. "You have been remiss for the last time! Today we propose to beat you and throw you, into the pond!"
"One moment," said Cugel. "Allow me to build a fire, as I myself am cold. Malser, start the tea, if you will."
Speechless with rage, the two divers stood back while Cugel kindled a fire. "Now then," said Cugel, "you will be happy to learn that I have dredged into a rich pocket of scales. I paid off my account and now Bilberd the gardener must serve the tea and build the fire."
Yelleg asked between clenched teeth: "Are you then resigning your post?"
"Not altogether. I will continue, for at least a brief period, in an advisory capacity."
"I am puzzled," said Malser. "How is it that you find so many scales with such little effort?"
Cugel smiled and shrugged. "Ability, and not a little luck."
"But mostly luck, eh? Just as Weamish had luck?"
"Ah, Weamish, poor fellow! He worked hard and long for his luck! Mine came more quickly. I have been fortunate!"
Yelleg spoke thoughtfully: "A curious succession of events! Four cases of scales disappeared. Then Weamish pays off his account. Then Gark and Gookin come with their hooks and Weamish jumps from the roof. Next, honest hard-working Cugel pays off his account, though he dredges but an hour a day."
"Curious indeed!" said Malser. "I wonder where the missing scales could be!"
"And I, no less!" said Yelleg.
Cugel spoke in mild rebuke: "Perhaps you two have time for wool-gathering, but I must troll for scales."
Cugel went to his scow and sieved several buckets of slime. Yelleg and Malser decided to work no more, each having gleaned three scales. After dressing, they stood by the edge of the pond watching Cugel, muttering together in low voices.
During the evening meal Yelleg and Malser continued their conversation, from time to time darting glances toward Cugel. Presently Yelleg struck his fist into the palm of his hand, as if he had been struck by a novel thought, which he immediately communicated to Malser. Then both nodded wisely and glanced again toward Cugel.
The next morning, while Cugel worked his sieve, Yelleg and Malser marched out into the back garden. Each carried a lily which he laid upon Weamish’s grave. Cugel watched intently from the side of his eye. Neither Malser nor Yelleg gave his own grave more than cursory attention: so little, in fact, that Malser, in backing away, fell into the excavation. Yelleg helped him up and the two went off about their work.
Cugel ran to the grave and peered down to the bottom. The dirt had broken away from the side wall and the corner of a case might possibly have been evident to a careful inspection.
Cugel pulled thoughtfully at his chin. The case was not conspicuous. Malser, mortified by his clumsy fall, in all probability had failed to notice it. This, at least, was a reasonable theory. Nevertheless, to move the scales might be judicious; he would do so at the first opportunity.
Taking the scow out upon the slime, Cugel filled the tub; then, returning to the shore, he sieved the muck, to discover a pair of ‘ordinaries' in the sieve.
Twango summoned Cugel to the work-room. "Cugel, tomorrow we ship four cases of prime scales at precisely noon. Go to the carpenter shop and build four stout cases to proper specifications. Then clean the carrier, lubricate the wheels, and put it generally into tip-top shape; there must be no mishaps on this occasion."
"Have no fear," said Cugel. "We will do the job properly."
At noon Soldinck, with his companions Rincz and Jornulk, halted their wagon before Flutic. Cugel gave them a polite welcome and ushered them into the work-room.
Twango, somewhat nettled by Soldinck's scrutiny of floor, walls and ceiling, spoke crisply. "Gentlemen, on the table you will observe scales to the number of six hundred and twenty, both 'ordinary' and 'special', as specified on this invoice. We shall first inspect, verify and pack the 'specials'."
Soldinck pointed toward Gark and Gookin. "Not while those two subhuman imps stand by! I believe that in some way they
cast a spell to befuddle not only poor Weamish but all the rest of us. Then they made free with the scales."
Cugel stated: "Soldinck's point seems valid. Gark, Gookin: begone! Go out and chase frogs from the garden!"
Twango protested: "That is foolishly and unnecessarily harsh! Still, if you must have it so, Gark and Gookin will oblige us by departing."
With red-eyed glares toward Cugel, Gark and Gookin darted from the room.
Twango now counted out the 'special' scales, while Soldinck checked them against an invoice and Cugel packed them one by one into the case under the vigilant scrutiny of Rincz and Jornulk. Then, in the same manner, the 'ordinaries' were packed. Cugel, watched closely by all, fitted covers to the cases, secured them well, and placed them on the carrier.
"Now," said Cugel, "since from this point to the wagon I will be prime custodian of the scales, I must insist that, while all witness, I seal the cases with wax, into which I inscribe my special mark. By this means I and every one else must be assured that the cases we pack and load here arrive securely at the wagon."
"A wise precaution," said Twango. "We will all witness the process."
Cugel sealed the boxes, made his mark into the hardening wax, then strapped the cases to the carrier. He explained: "We must take care lest a vibration or an unforeseen jar dislodge one of the cases, to the possible damage of the contents."
"Right, Cugel! Are we now prepared?"
"Quite so. Rincz and Jornulk, you will go first, taking care that the way is without hindrance. Soldinck, you will precede the carrier by five paces. I will push the carrier and Twango will follow five paces to the rear. In absolute security we shall thereby bring the scales to the wagon."
"Very good," said Soldinck. "So it shall be. Rincz, Jornulk! You will go first, using all alertness!"
The procession departed the work-room and passed through a dark corridor fifteen yards long, pausing only long enough for Cugel to call ahead to Soldinck: "Is all clear?"
"All is clear," came back Soldinck's reassurance. "You may come forward!"
Without further delay Cugel rolled the carrier out to the wagon. "Notice all! The cases are delivered to the wagon in the number of four, each sealed with my seal. Soldinck, I hereby transfer custody of these valuables to you. I will now apply more wax, upon which you will stamp your own mark .... Very good; my part of the business is done."
Twango congratulated Cugel. "And done well, Cugel! All was proper and efficient. The carrier looked neat and orderly with its fine coat of varnish and the neat apron installed by Weamish. Now then, Soldinck, if you will render me the receipt and my payment in full, the transaction will be complete."
Soldinck, still in a somewhat surly mood, gave over the receipt and counted out terces to the stipulated amount; then, with Rincz and Jornulk, he drove his wagon back to Saskervoy.
Cugel meanwhile wheeled the carrier to the shop. He inverted the top surface on its secret pivot, to bring the four cases into view. He removed the lids, lifted out the packets, put the broken cases into the fire, and poured the scales into a sack.
A flicker of motion caught his attention. Cugel peered sideways and glimpsed a smart red cap disappearing from view at the window.
Cugel stood motionless for ten seconds, then he moved with haste. He ran outside, but saw neither Gark nor Gookin, nor yet Yelleg nor Malser who presumably were diving in the pond.
Returning into the shop, Cugel took the sack of scales and ran fleet-footed to that hovel inhabited by Bilberd the halfwitted gardener. Under a pile of rubbish in the corner of the room he hid the sack, then ran back to the shop. Into another sack he poured an assortment of nails, studs, nuts, bolts and assorted trifles of hardware, and replaced this sack on the shelf. Then, after stirring the fire around the burning cases, he busied himself varnishing the upper surface of the carrier.
Three minutes later Twango arrived with Gark and Gookin at his heels, the latter carrying long-handled man-hooks.
Cugel held up his hand. "Careful, Twango! The varnish is wet!"
Twango called out in a nasal voice: "Cugel, let us have no evasion! Where are the scales?"
'"Scales'? Why do you want them now?"
"Cugel, the scales, if you please!"
Cugel shrugged. "As you like." He brought down a tray. "I have had quite a decent morning. Six 'ordinaries' and a fine 'special'! Notice this extraordinary specimen, if you will!"
"Yes, that is a 'Malar Astrangal', which fits over the elbow part of the third arm. It is an exceedingly fine specimen. Where are the others, which, so I understand, are numbered in the hundreds?"
Cugel looked at him in amazement. "Where have you heard such an extraordinary fantasy?"
"That is a matter of no consequence! Show me the scales or I must ask Gark and Gookin to find them!"
"Do so, by all means," said Cugel with dignity. "But first let me protect my property." He placed the six 'ordinaries' and the 'Malar Astrangal' in his pouch. At this moment, Gark, hopping up on the bench, gave a rasping croak of triumph and pulled down the sack Cugel had so recently placed there. "This is the sack! It is heavy with scales!"
Twango poured out the contents of the sack. "A few minutes ago," said Cugel, "I looked through this sack for a clevis to fit upon the carrier. Gark perhaps mistook these objects for scales." Cugel went to the door. "I will leave you to your search."
The time was now approaching the hour when Yelleg and Malser ordinarily took their tea. Cugel looked into the shed, but the fire was dead and the divers were nowhere to be seen.
Good enough, thought Cugel. Now was the time to remove from his grave those scales originally filched by Weamish.
He went to the back of the garden, where, in the shade of the myrhadian tree he had buried Weamish and dug his own grave.
No unwelcome observers were in evidence. Cugel started to jump down into his grave, but stopped short, deterred by the sight of four broken and empty cases at the bottom of the hole.
Cugel returned to the manse and went to the refectory where he found Bilberd the gardener.
"I am looking for Yelleg and Malser," said Cugel. "Have you seen them recently?"
Bilberd simpered and blinked. "Indeed I have, about two hours ago, when they departed for Saskervoy. They said that they were done diving for scales."
"That is a surprise," said Cugel through a constricted throat.
"True," said Bilberd. "Still, one must make an occasional change, otherwise he risks stagnation. I have gardened at Flutic for twenty-three years and I am starting to lose interest in the job. It is time that I myself considered a new career, perhaps in fashion design, despite the financial risks."
"An excellent idea!" said Cugel. "Were I a wealthy man, I would instantly advance to you the necessary capital!"
"I appreciate the offer!" said Bilberd warmly. "You are a generous man, Cugel!"
The gong sounded, signaling visitors. Cugel started to respond, then settled once more into his seat: let Gark or Gookin or Twango himself answer the door.
The gong sounded, again and again, and finally Cugel, from sheer vexation, went to answer the summons.
At the door stood Soldinck, with Rincz and Jornulk. Soldinck's face was grim. "Where is Twango? I wish to see him at once."
"It might be better if you returned tomorrow," said Cugel. "Twango is taking his afternoon rest."
"No matter! Rouse him out, in double-quick time! The matter is urgent!"
"I doubt if he will wish to see you today. He tells me that his fatigue is extreme."
"What?" roared Soldinck. "He should be dancing for joy! After all, he took my good terces and gave me cases of dried mud in exchange!"
"Impossible," said Cugel. "The precautions were exact."
"Your theories are of no interest to me," declared Soldinck. "Take me to Twango at once!"
"He is unavailable for any but important matters. I wish you a cordial good-day." Cugel started to close the door, but Soldinck set up an outcry, and now Twango himse
lf appeared on the scene. He asked: "What is the reason for this savage uproar? Cugel, you know how sensitive I am to noise!"
"Just so," said Cugel, ."but Master Soldinck seems intent upon a demonstration."
Twango turned to Soldinck. "What is the difficulty? We have finished our business for the day."
Cugel did not await Soldinck's reply. As Bilberd had remarked, the time had come for a change. He had lost a goodly number of scales to the dishonesty of Yelleg and Malser, but as many more awaited him in Bilberd's hut, with which he must be content.
Cugel hastened through the manse. He looked into the refectory, where Gark and Gookin worked at the preparation of the evening meal.
Very good, thought Cugel, in fact, excellent! Now he need only avoid Bilberd, take the sack of scales and be away .... He went out into the garden, but Bilberd was not at his work.
Cugel went to Bilberd's hut and put his head through the door. "Bilberd?"
There was no response. A shaft of red light slanting through the door illuminated Bilberd's pallet in full detail. By the diffused light, Cugel saw that the hut was empty.
Cugel glanced over his shoulder, entered the hut and went to the corner where he had hidden the sack.
The rubbish had been disarranged. The sack was gone.
From the manse came the sound of voices. Twango called: "Cugel! Where are you? Come at once!"
Quick and silent as a wraith, Cugel slipped from Bilberd's hut and took cover in a nearby juniper copse. Sidling from shadow to shadow, he circled the manse and came out upon the road. He looked right and left, then, discovering no threat, set off on long loping strides to the west. Through the forest and over the hill marched Cugel, and presently arrived at Saskervoy.
Some days later, while strolling the esplanade,1 Cugel chanced to approach that ancient tavern known as 'The Iron Cockatrice'. As he drew near, the door opened and two men lurched into the street: one massive, with yellow curls and a heavy jaw; the other lean, with gaunt cheeks, black hair and a hooked nose. Both wore costly garments, with double-tiered hats, red satin sashes and boots of fine leather.