“He is here, Lord Faide. Rise, Sam Salazar, take cognizance of the honor being done you.”
Sam Salazar rose to his feet, bowed.
Lord Faide proffered him a cup. “Drink, Sam Salazar, enjoy yourself. I freely admit that your idiotic tinkerings saved the lives of us all. Sam Salazar, we salute you, and thank you. Now, I trust that you will put frivolity aside, apply yourself to your work, and learn honest jinxmanship. When the time comes, I promise that you shall find a lifetime of employment at Faide Keep.”
“Thank you,” said Sam Salazar modestly. “However, I doubt if I will become a jinxman.”
“No? You have other plans?”
Sam Salazar stuttered, grew faintly pink in the face, then straightened himself, and spoke as clearly and distinctly as he could. “I prefer to continue what you call my frivolity. I hope I can persuade others to join me.”
“Frivolity is always attractive,” said Lord Faide. “No doubt you can find other idlers and wasters, runaway farm boys, and the like.”
Sam Salazar said staunchly, “This frivolity might become serious. Undoubtedly the ancients were barbarians. They used symbols to control entities they were unable to understand. We are methodical and rational; why can’t we systematize and comprehend the ancient miracles?”
“Well, why can’t we?” asked Lord Faide. “Does anyone have an answer?”
No one responded, although Isak Comandore hissed between his teeth and shook his head.
“I personally may never be able to work miracles; I suspect it is more complicated than it seems,” said Sam Salazar. “However, I hope that you will arrange for a workshop where I and others who might share my views can make a beginning. In this matter I have the encouragement and the support of Head Jinxman Hein Huss.”
Lord Faide lifted his goblet. “Very well, Apprentice Sam Salazar. Tonight I can refuse you nothing. You shall have exactly what you wish, and good luck to you. Perhaps you will produce a miracle during my lifetime.”
Isak Comandore said huskily to Hein Huss, “This is a sad event! It signalizes intellectual anarchy, the degradation of jinxmanship, the prostitution of logic. Novelty has a way of attracting youth; already I see apprentices and spellbinders whispering in excitement. The jinxmen of the future will be sorry affairs. How will they go about demon-possession? With a cog, a gear, and a push-button. How will they cast a hoodoo? They will find it easier to strike their victim with an axe.”
“Times change,” said Hein Huss. “There is now the one rule of Faide on Pangborn, and the keeps no longer need to employ us. Perhaps I will join Sam Salazar in his workshop.”
“You depict a depressing future,” said Isak Comandore with a sniff of disgust.
“There are many futures, some of which are undoubtedly depressing.”
Lord Faide raised his glass. “To the best of your many futures, Hein Huss. Who knows? Sam Salazar may conjure a spaceship to lead us back to home-planet.”
“Who knows?” said Hein Huss. He raised his goblet. “To the best of the futures!”
Jack Vance Page 9