The Book of the Ler

by M. A. Foster

  The Spsom spoke first, distorting the language in the peculiar way Spsomi did when speaking a human language.50

  “Yis, yis—y’r wis’n watt?”

  Cervitan, who seemed to have a little knowledge of the odd creatures, repeated the question for the rest, “ ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘What do we wish?’ ”

  “To look at the ships,” volunteered Quisinart.

  The crewmember seemed pleased, for both ear-shells now rolled around to point at them. It said, “Vv’ri gidd, yis, v’ryvry gidd. Pit wvi nid nnu ppeypmnneuw. (h)’eff gidd ppeypm’n frr’m Vfzyekhr; sle-vess, yis.”

  Cervitan repeated, “He says that’s very good, but they already have pipe-men, slaves from a world he calls ‘Viz-yekher.’ I don’t know where that is. Probably a long way from here.”

  Meure Schasny said, glancing upward and around at the exterior piping which encompassed the Spsom ship, most of which seemed large enough for a person to slither through, “We are sorry to hear that. We are still looking for work, though. We won’t touch anything. We had never seen one of your ships close before. Thank you.”

  The Spsom wrinkled its brow in concentration, and answered, making a serious effort to speak correctly. “Wirk yi went, yis? Fff . . . gu erundt thirr, bbehend ddhi sh’p. Lirmin thirr, nid two merr. Inskild, yis? Go-u see Lir-men, bey dhii rrver. New m’st gou. Ness t’telik ’f yu. Gid dey, yis?”

  The Spsom turned and sprung upward into the ship, through the hatchway and out of sight. They hoped, out of hearing.

  Schasny shook his head. He said, “That’s our speech?”

  Cervitan answered, “That’s nothing! That one spoke it very well, indeed. The last was the most important. It said, ‘Work you want? Go around behind the ship and talk to Ler. They need two more, unskilled. ’ ”

  Schasny said, “That’s what it sounded like, all right.”

  Then the four looked for a long time at each other. Halander finally broke the silence. “Ler, behind a Spsom ship. Grale, what do you make of that?”

  “Charter, likely, if they’re really with this ship.”

  Schasny added, “Can’t hurt to ask. All they can say is no.”

  They stood for a moment, irresolutely, looking at the Spsom ship, the late afternoon shadows now gathering around the curves of the hull, and farther, over by the riverbanks under the trees. And at each other all over again. Then they set out in the direction the Spsom had indicated, being careful to keep a distance from the hull of the ship and the fantastic network of piping that surrounded it.

  Beyond the ship, the dry-grass meadow sloped gently to the banks of the river. Overhead, tall Aoe-trees formed an overarching, lacy canopy, which was just beginning to stir with the evening breezes, for which Kundre was justly famous. Beyond the tree trunks was the river, the water slow and opaque. And on the riverbank was a small group of Ler, sitting quietly and talking among themselves. Two Spsom were also with the group.

  As they drew closer, they saw subtle differences between these Spsom and the one they had talked with at the ship’s entry way; these were more reserved, moving about very little. They also seemed to be outfitted more completely—the open vests the Spsom seemed always to wear were carefully ornamented with little strips and tags of gray hide, and the more imposing of the pair wore also a design in wire on one shoulder that suggested the piping encompassing a Spsom ship. That one also wore a gold armband on its upper arm.

  Spsom, no matter how much one saw them, were a form of life that men never became accustomed to. It never had been that they had been incomprehensible culturally, but that their physical proportions sat wrongly on the human conceptual framework; they simply didn’t look right. To start with, the limbs were two-jointed in the middle of the limb, so that there were three sections, rather than two. This was accomplished by an elongation of what would have been ankle or wrist bones. The feet were digitigrade, with a short, bony spur projecting backwards for stability. The hands were four-digited, but arranged two by two, permanently opposed. However long the evolutionary path had taken them, Spsom were a very long way from their natural origins. Legs completely adapted for running and leaping, and arms and hands modified into highly specialized organs of grasping.

  The body trunk was short, and the limbs were long; an overall impression of them would bring to mind such terms as delicate, wiry; sometimes, gangling or awkward. More, they had retained their fur, from their days as pure animal; a short, dense pelt of a neutral, slightly ruddy, brown, with darker accent lines along the face and shoulders, and a lighter stippling along the flanks and thighs.

  The hand was quite different; it was virtually palmless, and consisted chiefly of the four digits, normally carried two-by-two, opposed. And last, the head. Spsom faces were narrow, triangular, slimming down to a narrow muzzle, incorporating nose and upper jaw. It seemed almost foxlike, until one considered the large eyes, the swell of the skull, and the highly mobile ears near the top of the head, constantly in nervous, yet measured motion. Spsom looked more like animals than some animals did, yet they always conducted themselves in what could only be called a civilized manner; i.e., they spoke, they read and wrote, they flew spaceships and lived in cities, and also made a low-key form of war upon one another. More rarely, upon other races.

  As for their relations with Humans and Ler, there was a difference. Where Humans and Ler saw similarities in each other, Spsom saw the differences. Ler they treated respectfully, carefully neutral, at a distance. Humans they liked and lost no opportunity to associate with them, circumstances allowing.

  Besides the two Spsom associated with the group, there appeared to be three Ler, two Elders, judging by their long hair, and an adolescent, dressed in loose tunic and pantaloons. The Elders wore the traditional pleth, or overshirt.

  The four young men approached the group cautiously, not knowing which person to address; the adolescent, the Elders, or even the Spsom. Grale went first, followed by Meure and Halander, with Quisinart bringing up the rear. When they had effectively joined the group, Cervitan stopped, looking about a little uncertainly, trying to select the best one to begin with.

  The Elders solved the problem for him. Of the two, one was fuller-figured, more round. The other was thin and saturnine. The round one said, “You are here for work? To sign on with us?”

  Cervitan answered, “Yes. We heard there were some places left, and would like to look into it.”

  The Elder said, “Straight enough. So attend: we lack two places yet, and will depart when we have them, at that moment. I will describe the offer of employ, thus: Daorman,51 that is to say, general porterage and housekeeping assistance, serving, cooking. Pay is the customary rate for unskilled daormen, and the term is for the duration of a voyage to a certain planet, and the completion of our duties there. You may select return to Tancred, or as customary, first-port-of-call. We do not go to make war, nor settle vendetta, therefore hazard rates are inappropriate. We intend to exhibit prudence in danger, as applicable. It will be about a year, local, more or less. Do you have your cert?”52

  Cervitan answered for the group, “Yes, we all have them.”

  At this point, the smaller, and less-dressed of the two Spsom said something in his own speech, a sibilant whispering, broken by labial stops and dental aspirates, uttered in general, as if addressed to no one in particular.

  The adolescent Ler now stepped forward, between the two Elders, and indicated Cervitan and Quisinart. Closer now, it seemed to be a girl. She said, “These two, the one who speaks, and the one in the back, will not be suitable, according to Adjutant Iflssh.”

  The Elder nodded, and added, “Therefore I withdraw my offer to the two individuals indicated.” He turned to the girl. “The others?”

  “Acceptable.”

  Meure now spoke, “Why are they not acceptable?”

  The girl said, “Scent. Spsom have sensitive noses and can predict general demeanor. We want no one that is too bold, nor one who is not bold enough. These two are thus; no
dishonor intended, but we cannot use you. You two remaining are fine, if you find the conditions correct and in order.”

  Meure said, “They are correct as far as they go, but much remains to be seen. We know nothing of your project or mission, nor how it is organized. Can we not hear more?”

  The girl glanced once at the first Elder, then turned back to Meure. It was a girl all right, very slight in build, almost weak. Nor was she pretty, or full of the robust tomboyness of the average Ler girl. She said, “We have chartered this available ship, the Ffstretsha, of the Spsom owners, to transport us to a certain world, and there, to various points on its surface as required. And then back to the nearest Ler world, where your group and mine will part company. We intend to return to our proper places by scheduled liner. The daormen we hire from this world will be expected to perform odd jobs aboard ship, primarily porterage on the planetary surface. One among you will operate communications equipment. This is, you may say, a scientific expedition to gather facts. That is all. You may consider our group a fact-finding organ, one that would settle a long-standing question among my people.”

  Halander asked of her an odd question. He said, “Why Tancred? I mean, why hire here, and not someplace else?”

  “Why Tancred? Because it happens to be along the way there, that’s all,” she replied, as if surprised.

  Halander said, “Oh,” and was apparently satisfied with the answer, but Meure thought, They could charter a Spsom ship anywhere at all. They go everywhere. But Tancred is the last of the settled worlds, I know that. Beyond us lie only the colonial worlds, and the wild ones. And the Spsom don’t voyage outside much, at least, not in this part of space. They come from inside ordered space, and if Tancred is on the way there, then there is outside.

  Meure asked, “Does this world have a name?”

  The girl answered, “It is called Monsalvat.”

  The name meant nothing to Meure, nor to any of the rest of them. It sounded like a corruption of a Ler name. The four looked at one another, missing the girl’s attention, which was on them intently. The name didn’t register. Meure turned back to the girl and the Elder.

  “Very well. I apply for the position of Daorman.”

  Halander added, “And I also.”

  The Elder paused a moment, glanced at the two Spsom. The smaller one nodded, quite humanly. The larger one, with the fine shoulder decoration, said nothing, made no gesture. He seemed oblivious to all of them. The elder now turned to a small valise on the ground bent, opened it, and retrieved two sheafs of paper. “These are your contracts. Thumbprint, please.” Meure placed his thumb at the place indicated. Halander, after a moment’s hesitation, did likewise. The Elder then separated the sheaves, handing one set to Meure and Halander, one set to the girl, and one set the last, to the smaller Spsom, who turned and sprung off in the direction of Kundre.

  The Elder now said, “You are signed on. You may enter the Ffstretsha immediately, if you have no further errands to run.”

  The remaining Spsom also turned and departed, without a word, striding off around a projecting corner of the Thlecsne and disappearing. Meure Schasny and Dreve Halander looked at Cervitan and Quisinart. All this had happened too fast, and there seemed nothing adequate to say to fill the silence. Cervitan managed, “Good luck, you two! We’ll be on the next one!”

  They finished their short goodbyes, and Cervitan and Quisinart started off back in the direction of Kundre. Meure and Halander started uncertainly for the entryport of the ship.

  The Elder who had talked before now walked straight for the ship. The remaining one stepped forward and said, “Come along, now. All are aboard, save us. The Liy Flerdista53 can be explaining your duties while the Spsom crew is securing the port. We are ready to leave. Surely . . . Is there something else?”

  Meure answered, “No, no we are ready, as well. Let us be off.” But as he walked toward the Ffstretsha, he looked back, more than once, at the receding figures of Cervitan and Quisinart. They did not look back.

  Meure reached the outthrust entry-ladder and saw that he was indeed the last one to enter the asymmetrical Spsom ship, the Ffstretsha. He could see inside; only the Spsom crew-member, apparently the same one they had talked with earlier, was there, waiting in the passage beyond the port for him to enter. Meure climbed the unfamiliar, wide-spaced treads, grasped a projecting lip of the port, swung into the alien ship, and stood aside.

  He was in a short passageway which joined another not far ahead. He felt a sense of vertigo, a strangeness; this, already, was an alien world, of course. Impressions crowded his perceptions: the light in the ship was soft and indirect, with a yellowish tinge. There were various odors and scents—the acrid flavor of the tanned leather the Spsom habitually wore, and the scent of the creatures themselves, ever so slightly sweet, like bread, or perhaps cookies. And sounds: there was a faint hum that told the ship was already energized, and over that, a mindless little tune hummed by the Spsom as he went about his task of closing and sealing the port. He realized that he did not know which way to go in the corridor ahead.

  The Spsom crewman spoke into an intercom in his hissing, sputtering language, and then turned to Meure.

  It spoke slowly and deliberately, knowing that Meure found it hard to understand. “B’spoke yu b’fore, eotside. So yu came wif us, efter all. Virry gid ey thingk, yis, virry gid indid.” The Spsom indicated itself. “Vdhitz. Ey. Mesellf.”

  Meure looked closely at the Spsom called Vdhitz, trying not to stare. He saw bony, strong hands, wiry, lean limbs covered in dense, short fur; a figure larger than himself, and definitely more sure of himself. Where skin was exposed, it was a dark color, not black, but a very dark brown, dry and dull. The pointed muzzle, the sharp, white teeth, the ridiculous mobile ears, the fine whiskers which he could now see, all those things shouted “animal” to him, but the gesture of the hands and the intelligence of the expression said “person” more persuasively. Meure pointed at himself. “Meure,” he said. “Meure Schasny.”

  “Myershtshesny,” Vdhitz repeated, pleased with his success in communication. He pointed at the corridor ahead, and then to the right. “New yu go therr. Yu wirk fir the Lirmen, net thee Spsm. Shee will tell yu whet yu hef tu doo.” He stopped, then added, “Kell un me. Ey kenn hhelp.”

  Meure started off toward the corridor, and turned to the right as he had been told when he got there. He looked back. Vdhitz was busy at some task, manipulating controls on a panel which he had opened. Meure turned and walked ahead.

  The main corridor had a flat floor, of some dark, resilient material, like rubber, but not rubber. The walls and ceiling merged into one, smoothly curving. The corridor itself veered to the right, then curved around sharply to the left, as if detouring around an obstacle. In the middle of the detouring curve back to the right was a door, and voices. He went in.

  The room was a spacious compartment, with curved walls and ceiling like the corridor, and lit by the same type of indirect lighting, soft, shadowless, yellowish. Meure thought of a day when the sky was covered by a fine, high overcast. Yes. The Spsom homeworld must be cloudy, cool. Perhaps the dominant race of Spsom originally came from a region of rounded, eroded rocky defiles and canyons. Perhaps. He did not know. ’Rrtz, the world of the Spsom, was incalculably far away.

  Here, there was a table, integral with the material of the floor, translucent, moulded, obviously manufactured, yet with an air of nature to it, as if it were a form of peculiar rock which had just happened to be formed to that shape and size to fit in this room, now.

  There were already seven people present, seated or standing according to disposition, for Meure could sense no order in their placement. There were four Ler: the Liy Flerdistar, who reminded him ever so slightly of poor Quisinart, but with infinitely more reserve behind the thin, bony face, the two Elders he had met outside, and another adolescent, with still, perfectly regular features. There were three Humans as well: Halander and two girls. One of the girls was strongly buil
t, but smoothly contoured, with a reddish tint in her brown hair, cut short almost after the manner of the Ler adolescents, and with a warm, tanned tone to her skin. The other was slender and delicate, pale-white. She had large eyes, dark hair, a full mouth. The first girl seemed bored; the second, apprehensive and nervous. And Halander obviously was pleased with circumstances. So, reflected Meure, am I. Both girls were attractive, after their own fashion.

  Flerdistar noted Meure’s arrival and waited for him to find a place, patiently. There was absolutely no sense of time in her manner whatsoever. Meure, nevertheless, felt an embarrassment for being the last and hurriedly found a seat by the table.

  The Liy Flerdistar began, “Good. We are all present. I will make the introductions and we may then go about our tasks, which for the moment are simple enough.” She indicated the Ler Elders. “These respected Elders are Rescharten Tlanh, whom you may regard as the leader of this, ah, expedition.” She nodded toward the heavier Elder, the one who had spoken first outside the ship. “And Lurtshertan Tlanh.” That was the thin one. “The Didh to my right in Clellendol Tlanh Narbelen, and I am Flerdistar Srith Perklonen.54 The Forerunners are Meure Schasny, who just entered our common room. The other young man is Dreve Halander. The girls are Audiart Jendure,” here she indicated the strapping girl with the reddish tint in her hair, “and Ingraine Deffy.” The thinner girl shook her head, briefly, nervously, a motion that made her loose, cascading hair ripple.