The Song of Phaid the Gambler

by Mick Farren

  Phaid looked back to the widow.

  'You work this boat all by yourself?'

  The widow raised a quizzical eyebrow.

  'You're not getting ideas, are you?'

  Phaid smiled and shook his head.

  'I've been up for two days, lady. I couldn't get an idea if I wanted to.'

  Again the raised eyebrow.

  'Yeah?'

  Phaid sipped his drink.

  'Maybe.'

  The widow refilled her own glass.

  'Well, I couldn't keep it from you anyway. Yes, I work this tub on my own. Have done since my last husband got drunk and drowned himself.'

  'I'm sorry.'

  'Don't be. He was a silly bastard. I don't know why I married him.'

  'Isn't it a hard life?'

  'Maybe. I don't really know. I've never done anything else. I guess it ain't too bad. I've got a beat-up android that goes by the name of Clo-e. She handles the heavy work, runs the engines and operates the photon cannon if we run into trouble, which, thank the Lords, we don't too often.'

  Phaid looked round curiously, but the widow shook her head.

  'Clo-e's up on deck. I don't let her in here. I don't know what it is, but there's something about androids. I don't like to be shut up with them. You know what I mean?'

  Phaid nodded automatically. He had almost stopped listening. The warmth of the cabin, plus the brandy was making him feel pleasantly numb. His mind had started to wander. In a strange way, the widow was really quite attractive. Of course, she was quite a bit older than he, and, in more normal circumstances, he would probably not give her a second glance, but here in the tiny cabin, tired and a little drunk, it at least started him thinking. He knew it was ridiculous, but it had been a long two days.

  Phaid realised that the widow had picked up the bottle again and was saying something to him.

  'I'm sorry.'

  'You look half dead. Are your starting to lose it?'

  'A bit.'

  'You want another drink?'

  'Yeah, why not?'

  As the widow leaned forward to fill his glass one more time, the front of her homespun tunic fell partly open, granting Phaid a brief view of a surprisingly firm, well formed breast. Phaid suddenly wondered if the glimpse had been accidental or deliberate. She set the bottle down, and once again sat back in her rocker. Everything was back just as it was. Or was it?

  Over the rim of his glass, Phaid covertly scrutinised the widow. It was hard to judge what her figure was like beneath the loose-fitting tunic and baggy trousers. Her face had been worn to a deep, weathered, nut brown by wind and sun, but her black, dead straight hair, that hung almost to her waist when not scraped back into an austere bun, shone like silk.

  Then there were her eyes. Surrounded by deeply etched laugh lines, they flashed with humour and a deep practical perception. Phaid had known many women with flashing eyes, but all too often it turned out to be the cold, self seeking flash of the predator. The widow's were complete­ly different. They were the eyes of someone warm and alive, someone who took life as it came, who didn't always search for what didn't exist, but got on with enjoying what she had.

  Phaid noticed that the widow was also studying him. Their inspecting gazes caught each other and locked for a moment. She looked away for an instant, then looked back and smiled.

  'We ought to get some sleep.'

  Phaid nodded

  'You're right.'

  'I gave up being coy a long time ago.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Come on, gambling man, you know what I mean.'

  'I suppose I do.'

  'Damn right you do. There's only one bed on this boat, and it's mine. You can either sleep up on deck or you can sleep in my bed. It's your choice. I may not be as young as I used to be, and I may not be what you're used to, but I take good care of myself and I'm not ashamed to tell you that it's been a while since I had a man. Like I said, though, it's your choice.'

  Phaid slowly finished his drink and placed the glass carefully on the table, lining up the base with the mother of pearl design. Then he grinned at the widow.

  'I sure as hell wouldn't want to sleep on the deck.'

  'I've heard more romantic phrasing.'

  'I gave up romance a long time ago.'

  The widow suddenly stood up.

  'Okay, gambling man, play it like you want to. Shall we go to my bed?'

  Phaid got up a little more slowly.

  'Let's do just that.'

  The widow moved towards the bed, turned and pulled her tunic over her head. She shook her hair loose, kicked off her sandals and wriggled out of the trousers. She placed a hand on her bare hip and looked, almost challengingly, at Phaid.

  'You like me, gambling man?'

  Phaid's mouth twisted into a lopsided grin.

  'Very much, boat lady.'

  Phaid had lied to a great many women, but right then he was actually telling the truth. Without her clothes, the widow was a whole different person. In her clothes she was capable, practical but dull, out of them she was something sinuous and alive, something from the river and the jungle. The hard life of the boats had kept her body slim and supple.

  'Yeah, very much indeed.'

  The widow pushed aside the bead curtain and sat down on the bed. She drew her legs up and tilted her head to the side. One hand played with a single strand of the beads while the other fingered the thick fur of the rug.

  'Why don't you take off you clothes and come over here, gambling man. I could get cold.'

  Phaid was already struggling out of his shirt.

  'You couldn't get cold.'

  'Will you get over here?'

  Phaid flopped on the bed beside her. The fur felt good underneath his body.

  'I'm here.'

  He started to bury his face in her hair, but she pushed him back.

  'My name's R'Ayla.'

  Phaid found that it wasn't easy to say.

  'R'Ayla.'

  'You didn't ask.'

  'R'Ayla. Mine's Phaid.'

  'Phaid.'

  'Right.'

  'Now we know each other.'

  She touched a control on the wall and the glo-bar dimmed, then her arms snaked round Phaid and she kissed him hard on the mouth.

  It wasn't long before he was right inside her. She began to growl deep down in her throat.

  'So good, that is so good.'

  Phaid now believed what she had told him about it being a long time since she had had a man in her bed. At the end, she screamed so loudly that he half feared the population of the little town would come running to see if he was claiming his third victim of the day.

  Soon afterwards, he fell into a deep dreamless deep.

  When he woke, sunlight was streaming into the cabin and R'Ayla was gone. Somewhat groggily, he sat up, doing his best to orientate himself. There was a constant throbbing pulse, which, at first, he thought to be inside his head. He finally realised that the boat must be underway and what he could hear was the sound of the engines. He climbed out of the bed and struggled into his breeches and shirt.

  Phaid stuck his head through the cabin hatch and blinked at the light. R'Ayla was standing in the bow of the boat staring down river and whistling through her teeth. Her hair was scraped back into a bun and she was once again sober, practical and virtually sexless. She turned and spotted Phaid.

  'So, you're awake. You even keep gambler's hours on a boat.'

  Phaid had a little difficulty adjusting to the transforma­tion.

  'What time is it?'

  'A little after noon. You want something to eat?'

  Phaid nodded.

  'Sure.'

  'Come on up. I'll fix you something in a while.'

  Phaid scrambled through the hatch. The boat was close to the centre of the big river and travelling downstream at a fair speed. The cargo blimps bobbed behind at the end of their tow lines. The green walls of jungle moved past on either side. In the stern of the boat, a squat cy
lindrical android stood humming to itself. It had lead lines into both the steering unit and the engine controls. It had obviously seen better days. There were a number of dents in its outer casing and its paint job, a bright and incon­gruous pink, was flaking away.

  Once Phaid was on the deck, R'Ayla pointed to the android.

  'Clo-e, I want you to meet our passenger.'

  Phaid made a parody of a bow.

  'Please to meet you, Clo-e.'

  A voice came from the android.

  'It-is-good-to-have-a-passenger-aboard-I-understand-you-have-engaged-in-mating-with-my-owner. This-normally-improves-her-temper-and-that-on-its-own-makes-your-visit-pleasurable.'

  R'Ayla regarded the android bleakly.

  'It has a conversational circuit that I should have ripped out a long time ago.'

  A light on what approximated the android's head blinked on and then off again.

  'I-should-warn-you-that-I-am-very-old-and-any-tampering-with-my-circuitry-is-likely-to-lead-to-a-terminal-malf unction.'

  Phaid laughed, but R'Ayla shook her head.

  'I swear the damned thing's blackmailing me.'

  'Why don't you trade it in?'

  R'Ayla shrugged.

  'There aren't that many of them left. I fear I'm stuck with what I've got.'

  For a while, R'Ayla disappeared into the cabin. The smell of cooking wafted up on to the deck, and, between them, Phaid's nostrils and stomach reminded him that it was a long time since he had eaten.

  The breakfast was a simple affair: fish and vegetables deep fried in oil, washed down with fruit juice. The two of them ate, without ceremony, from the same bowl. When the meal was finished, Phaid leaned back against the gunwale and took a deep, satisfied breath. He was closer to being content than he'd been for a long time. About the only thing that worried him was a vague but nagging feeling that the android was watching him.

  Not even the android could spoil his mood, though. He had a full belly and was sexually satisfied, the sun was shining and the river breeze prevented it from becoming intolerably hot. For a while the call of the big cities was muted. Right then he wanted nothing more than to loll in the deck of the boat, listen to the water, bask in the heat and watch the green jungle slip by on either side.

  R'Ayla busied herself with chores around the deck. As far as Phaid could see, most of them were scarcely necessary. Clo-e the android did everything that was important, but if the boat woman felt the need to keep busy, Phaid wasn't about to interfere.

  Every so often, she'd point something out to him. A near submerged reptile would raise its head on a long serpent neck or a flock of gaudy birds would spiral out of the jungle in a shrieking cloud. At one point it was possible to see the tips of two huge stone pyramid-shaped structures above the level of the trees. Pnaid sat up and stared at them thoughtfully until the boat rounded a bend in the river and they were hidden from view.

  R'Ayla looked at him enquiringly.

  'You ever seen those before?'

  Phaid shook his head.

  'No, but I've heard there are things like that deep in the jungle, things from the old times.'

  'I guess there are things from the old times all over.'

  Phaid nodded.

  'Pretty much. I never saw those particular ones before, but I've seen plenty of others. They built some strange stuff back when.'

  'I suppose you've travelled a lot.'

  'Some.'

  'And seen a lot.'

  'Enough.'

  'You want to tell me about it?'

  Phaid spread his hands.

  'Sure, what do you want to hear?'

  'About things from the old times. From the times before the Lords went away.'

  Phaid raised an eyebrow.

  'The Lords?'

  R'Ayla glanced at him sharply.

  'You believe in the Lords, don't you?'

  'I believe that things changed mightily back in the old days, but I'd hate to say what caused it.'

  'The priests teach us that the Lords created a paradise on earth. That it prospered and flourished for a thousand years, but then the Lords saw that common man was beyond help, that he was locked into his iniquity and they departed from our world to make their homes among the stars. It was then that the gales came, the terrible winds and the heat and the awesome cold of the icefields. As punishment for their sins mortal men were . . .'

  The words came as though they had been learned by rote, way back in childhood, and were being repeated from memory. Phaid cut her off with a quick nod. It was unlike the practical, hard headed woman and it made him uncomfortable. The priests obviously had a strong hold on the river people.

  'I know what the priests teach. I've heard the scriptures. I also know what I've seen and some of it was mighty strange.'

  R'Ayla suddenly grinned like a girl. The spell of the priests was gone.

  'Tell me about the strangest.'

  The strangest?' Phaid thought for a while. 'I guess the strangest I ever came across was the place way up in the hills behind Gant.'

  'What was that?'

  'Well, it's kind of hard to describe. It was a big place, made out of solid stone. I guess if you saw it you'd call it a palace, except it wasn't like any palace I've ever seen. It didn't have any windows, or any doors, or anyway that you could get inside, and all the time it made this noise. A high pitched hum, like there were a million insects trying to get out.'

  'Did anybody live there?'

  'No people.'

  R'Ayla looked a little uneasy.

  'You mean something lived there?'

  Phaid was pensive.

  'Maybe, maybe not. All I can tell you is that something happened there.'

  'Happened?'

  'Every day, at exactly the same time, a small flap in the building would open. There was a ramp leading down from it. Small machines would roll out. They were squat, kind of irregular in shape, and they moved under their own power.'

  'Androids?'

  'Who knows. Nobody could ever fathom what they did or why they were there. One old man, they used to say that he was crazy, he spent half his life trying to solve the secret. He even built a cabin close by the place so he could watch them come out every day. Not even he could discover the secret.'

  R'Ayla was looking more and more confused.

  'These things didn't do anything at all, they didn't have any purpose?'

  Phaid shook his head.

  'Each day, they'd just roll down the ramp and form up in rows. There was this paved area at the bottom of the ramp. They'd form up on that in real neat rows. Thirty of them, there were always thirty of them. The old man told me that there'd been thirty of them for as long as he could remember.' Phaid looked as though he was having trouble believing his story. 'Once they'd formed up in rows, the machines would just stand there, all through the after­noon, not moving, not making a sound. It was as if they were just waiting for someone to come along and collect them.'

  'And nobody did?'

  'No . . . well, that's no strictly true. Just before sunset another machine would appear. It was much bigger than the first ones, big enough to pick them up in bunches of four. It went backwards and forwards, gathering in all the small machines, taking them back through the flap they had come out of. Once they were all inside, the flap would shut and that would be it until noon the next day. Except for the hum, of course, that never stopped.

  For a short while R'Ayla didn't say a word. She seemed totally sucked in by Phaid's story. Then she exploded.

  'Just a minute. You're a silver tongued devil, gambling man. A liar, too, I expect. You just made that whole thing up. Admit it.'

  Phaid put a hand on his heart.

  'It's all true, I swear it. I saw the place with my own eyes. In fact, I sat there all afternoon, just watching it.'

  R'Ayla shuddered.

  'It sounds like ghost stuff.'

  'It was.'

  'But why should anyone bother to build a thing like that, even in the old d
ays?'

  'They probably had a use for it in the old days. It's just that we've forgotten.'

  R'Ayla stared at the river. She seemed to be deep in thought.

  'Do you think it was very different in the old days?'

  Phaid pursed his lips.

  'It must have been. There's so much left of them that there must have been a hell of a lot more people back in the ancient times.'

  R'Ayla frowned.

  'I'm not sure I'd like that.'

  'Also the gales didn't split up the world with bands of heat and cold like they do now.'

  R'Ayla looked at him as if this wasn't news.

  That's what the priests taught us.'

  Phaid shook his head.

  'I'm not talking about the priests. I'm talking about what I've seen with my own eyes. There's relics of the old times frozen in the ice plains, and other relics in the worst part of the burnt deserts. Nobody in their right minds would build in those places.'

  'It just proves the scriptures.'

  Phaid took a deep breath. 'Hmm.'

  R'Ayla looked at him with a worried expression.

  'You do believe the scriptures, don't you?'

  'That the Lords departed for the stars and then the whole world was divided by zones of heat and cold as a punishment for our sins?'

  'That's what the priests say.'

  Phaid's face twisted into a cynical smile.

  'That is what the priests say.'

  'But do you believe it?'

  Phaid shrugged.

  'Sure I believe it. There was this time, though, when I saw a man, this wandering preacher. A crowd had gathered around him. He was telling them how the Lords weren't anything more than people like us, and if they did cause the gales it wasn't as a divine punishment but because there was once some vast machine that could control the weather and we had forgotten, over the centuries, how to use it. He said it was the same as the way we had forgotten what some kinds of androids are sup­posed to do, like the place I saw in the hills behind Gant.'

  R'Ayla looked worried.

  'That's ridiculous. How could a machine change the weather? That man must have been crazy.'

  'He probably was. He hadn't been going for too long before the Religious Police came and carried him away. I never did meet anyone who saw him again. I reckon if the priests want us to believe their story that bad, I'll believe it. I'm all for a quiet life.'