The Hand of Zei

by L. Sprague DeCamp

  He reached up to his forehead and wrenched off the false antennae. Zei did likewise.

  "Now," he continued, "I won't kill you merely because you should have been sent to the chopper by your own silly law. Since the present regime is proved illegitimate and unlawful, it's time the old order changed, yielding place to new. I'll help them draw up a constitution…"

  "With yourself as ruler?" sneered Alvandi.

  "By no means. I won't have the job. I'll just give advice— for instance to exile you. Then I'll take Zei, some ships, and some volunteers, and take over the Sunqar."

  "But that's mine by treaty with the admirals…"

  "Was, you mean. It's state property, and my followers, who being both Qiribuma and Sunqaruma are qualified to decide its fate, have given it to me."

  The queen turned to Zei. "At least, daughter, you'll not willingly yield to the wicked importunities of this crapulous vaporer?"

  "And why not? No daughter of yours am I, but one of another race whom you've sought to use as a puppet to prop your own power, even to forcing me into an alliance mis-cegenetic. I prefer my own."

  "Zakkomir?" said Alvandi.

  "The same for me."

  "You're all against me," said the queen, drooping. She turned to Barnevelt with a last flicker of defiance. "What have you done with my warrior girls you carried off? Deflowered them and fed them to the fish?"

  "Not at all, Queen. They're all married to my ex-pirates."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  After doing what had to be done to secure order in Ghu-linde—such as hanging a couple of liberated males who tried to celebrate their freedom by robbing shops—Barnevelt visited with Zei in her apartment.

  When she could talk she said, "My lord and love, if indeed you love me, why, knowing I was of Earthly origin, did you hold off until Zakkomir's letter reached you? Another instant and the link had been forged."

  "How was I supposed to know you were human? You couldn't expect me to yank your antennae to see if they'd come off!"

  "By the same means I knew you for such."

  "What was that? Did my ear points come loose or something?"

  "Nay, but when we dried our apparel on the raft in the Sunqar, and again when we washed the soot of the fire from our bodies, I saw that you possessed a navel!"

  Barnevelt clapped a hand to his forehead. "Of course! Now that you mention it, I can see how a person hatched from an egg would have no use for one."

  "Nay further, knowing that you knew 7 had one, I recked that you knew all and could conceive no reason for your strange evasive diffidence. Perhaps, methought, he's been reared in Nyamadze, even as I was in Qirib, and thinks himself more Krishnan than Terran. Perhaps he's a cogwheel in some vast plot; or perhaps he does but find me ugly."

  "Ugly! Oh, darling…"

  "In any case, 'twas plain as the peaks of Darya that, whereas you and I each knew the other's true race, you wished natheless to maintain this pretense of deeming us Krishnans still. Albeit curiosity consumed me, I durst do no more than hint. Thus it was that I said we were of the same kind, and neither was quite what he seemed."

  "I remember you did, but I didn't catch on. My mind was on—other things." His eyes devoured her until she colored.

  "Well, when you let these hints fall as dead as an aqebat struck by the fowler's bolt, I acceded to what I took to be your wish. For I loved you so that—despite my noble resolution to guard my chastity, as a princess must needs do—had you pressed me to yield a maiden's ultimate gift, I should not have known how to gainsay you."

  Barnevelt drew a long breath. "I understand now. Put it down to sheer stupidity on my part—though perhaps in the long run it was a fortunate mistake. But how'd you hide your navel when you went swimming or pretended to be a statue in the park?"

  "I wore a patch of false skin, but for the kashyo I'd left off my little patch, seeing no need for it under that formal gown."

  "I see. While we're confessing impostures, that wasn't a real yeki that growled on the road to Shaf, when you started to leave me. It was I doing imitations."

  "Why, I knew that!" she said.

  Presently, Barnevelt said, "Now we have to figure out how we can get married—we are going to get married, aren't we?"

  "I wondered when you'd bethink you of that," she said in a marked manner. "Well, sirrah, since you at last had the wit to ask me, the answer's aye, and aye again. But what's the obstacle?"

  "We're Terrans, and I've read somewhere that only Terrans can legally carry other Terrans. The only people of Krishna who could splice us—with any legal effect under Earthly law, that is—are Commandante Kennedy and Judge Keshava-chandra at Novorecife. And we hardly want to go all that distance in the wrong direction, when we're bound for the Sunqar."

  "How about Qvansel the astrologer, or one of the priestesses?"

  "No good. Your marriage with Zakkomir wouldn't have been legal, either. Let me think… There are some jurisdictions on Earth where a man and a woman can become legally married by standing up in front of witnesses and saying so. It's called common-law marriage. The Quakers have a similar system, and they're highly respectable. So that would have as much legal effect as anything our Qiribo friends could do. Wait here."

  A few minutes later, he fetched Gizil, Zakkomir, and the court astrologer back to Zei's apartment.

  When they were lined up, he said, "Now stand up and give me your hand, darling—the left. Do you, Zei bab-Alvandi, take me, Dirk Cornelius Barnevelt, to be your husband?"

  "Aye. Do you, Dirk, take me to be your wife?"

  "I do. With this ring…" (he slipped the Hayashi camera off his finger and onto hers) "… I thee wed." And he swept her close.

  Another ten-day, and the freshly painted Douri Dejanai, at its dock in Damovang Harbor, prepared to cast off its lines. In the stern, Barnevelt bid farewell to his Krishnan friends.

  Gizil said, "We all deem you a man of super-human self-restraint, elevating me to the presidency in lieu of taking it yourself."

  "I'm not a Qiribu, remember," said Barnevelt. "They'd have gotten tired of being ruled by a damned Earthman and thrown me out. Besides, they chose you."

  "Thanks to that constitution you prescribed for us."

  "Well, you asked for the latest model of republican constitution, so I obliged. I hope it works. Drink up, pals— we're shoving off."

  The visitors went ashore. The ship pulled out from its berth, followed by the remaining two ships of Barnevelt's little fleet.

  When people could no longer be recognized for the distance and the sun was setting behind the Zogha, Barnevelt turned away, threw an arm around Zei, and went below. He paused at Philo's cage to scratch the roots of the macaw's feathers (the queen having left the bird behind when she fled from Qirib) and then at the cage of his latest acquisition, a pair of bijara, bought at the same pet shop in Ghulinde where he had found the lost Philo.

  Zei said, "Think you this new law you've given the Qiri-buma will last like the rocks of Harqain?"

  Remembering Tangaloa's remarks about basic cultural attitudes, he said thoughtfully, "Considering that they don't have a tradition of democratic self-government, I shall be pleasantly surprised if this shiny new constitution stands up to the strains of human weakness and ambition for many years. But this purblind race of miserable men will have to manage as best it can."

  "What sort of rule will you establish in the Sunqar? Come, sir, more attention to me and less to your insensate beasts, specially since the Earthly monster makes you sniffle. At your present rate of accumulation, I foresee the day when the Sun-qar's greatest renown will be as a park zoological."

  "Sorry." He drew out a chair and poured her a drink. "I think I'll set up what on Earth would be called a stock corporation, with you and me holding a majority of the stock. We'll be capitalists. Say, Zei…"

  "Yes, dearest Snyol—I mean Dirk?"

  He smiled at her slip. Then it occurred to him that "Zei" was probably not her original name, either—though,
if it suited them both, there was no point in digging up some forgotten Persian praenomen. With so many pseudonyms in his circle—his own, Tangaloa's, Gizil's—it was hard enough to keep track of names. To aggravate matters, the men of Qirib had all changed their surnames from metronymics to patronymics.

  Out of curiosity, however, he said, "Shuma fdrsi harf mizanid?"

  She gave a little start. "Why, yes—what was that, beloved? 'Tis a tongue I seem to recall once-knowing, but now all's hazy. Didst not ask me if I spoke some speech?"

  "Tell you some day," he said, running his fingers luxuriantly through his new bristle-brush of hair. Since she had stopped dyeing hers, Zei's, too, had begun to come in with its normal glossy black.

  "Why did Alvandi adopt an Earthly child instead of a Krishnan one?" he asked.

  "She did adopt a Krishnan babe, but it died a ten-night before the ceremony of Viewing the Heir. So Alvandi in great haste and secrecy besought the trafficker in slaves to give a surrogate..He sent me, not telling her I was of Earth, and by the time she learned her error 'twas too late and he'd vanished with his price. Ofttimes have I wondered who my authentic parents were."

  Here was a chance to play God by reuniting a family, for there was no doubt in his mind now that she was Mirza Fateh's daughter. However, it might be better to let sleeping eshuna lie. He'd want to look Papa Fateh over with care before inviting him to move in with them. From what he'd heard about the missionary, he doubted whether he'd be a vast improvement on his own mother or Queen Alvandi.

  A hectic week of politicking had left him little time to think about the future. For one thing, to help finance his Sunqar project, he had made a deal with Shtain to shoot additional film and send it to Earth from time to time, to pay for which Shtain had set up a drawing account for him in the bank at Novorecife. Tangaloa particularly wanted film and data on the tailed Fossanderaners. For another, the Mejrou Quararderra was suing him in the courts of Qirib for impersonating one of their expressmen…

  "Dirk," said Zei, "happy though I am that we're now a peaceful, settled, wedded pair, in a way I miss the excitement of our flight from the Sunqar. Never have I lived with such intensity. Think you such feelings will ever come again?"

  "Stick around, darling," he said, lighting a cigar. "The excitement's just beginning."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A Kkishnan year later, a drunken fat man in the Nova Iorque Bar at Novorecife was declaiming, "All nonsense, letting these barbarians do as they please. Oughta send the army and civilize 'em. Make 'em adopt modern plumbing, democracy, mass production, and all the rest. And some good up-to-date religion… Say, who's that?"

  He indicated a tall, horse-faced Earthman in Krishnan costume, with a small notch in his left ear, drinking with Commandante Kennedy and Assistant Security Officer Cas-tanhoso.

  The notch-eared man was saying, "… I did not invite him! He read about us in that paper they publish in Mishe and put two and two together. The next thing I knew, he showed up on a ship from Malayer saying he was my long-lost father-in-law. And since Zei's crazy about him, there's no getting rid of him. Matter of fact I don't mind Mirza so much, and he was at least able to splice us properly, so there's no more question of whether we're properly married. But those funny people who come to visit him…"

  "Why do you not put him to work?" asked Castanhoso.

  "I will, as soon as…" ,

  "That," said the fat man's companion, "is the famous Dirk Barnevelt, president of the Sunqar Corporation. He's just pulled a big deal with the Interplanetary Council. Like to meet him?"

  "Sure. Like to meet anybody human."',

  "Oh, Senhor Barnevelt, may I present Senhor Elias? A new arrival."

  "Glad to know you," said Barnevelt, squeezing the pudgy hand.

  "You're one of these guys who lives among the natives?"

  "You can put it that way," snapped Barnevelt, and started to turn away.

  "No offense meant, son! I just wondered if you consider 'em better than your own kind."

  "Not at all. Some find them easier to live with than Earth-Ill men, some don't. I do, but I don't think them either better or worse. It all depends on the individual."

  "Sure, sure. But aren't they awfully primitive? National sovereignty and wars and nobility and all that crap?"

  "Matter of fact, I like them that way."

  "You're one of these romantic guys?"

  "No, but I guess I like pioneering."

  "Pioneering." The fat man sank into sodden silence. Barne-velt, finding his new acquaintance a boor and a bore, made a withdrawing moment. But Elias asked, "What's that new deal? Wong was telling me about it."

  "Oh. Know the Sunqar?"

  "A big mess of seaweed, isn't it?"

  "Ayuh. There were some people who made janru out of the terpahla vine…"

  "Say, I know you—the guy who eloped with a native princess, only she turned out human after all. Excuse me, what was the deal?"

  "Well, I'm now lord high whatsit of the Sunqar and was willing to stop janru-making and turn over the names of the smuggling ring. But I wanted something in return, so I persuaded the I. C. to let me have engineering help to set up a soap works in the Sunqar. The vine gives us unlimited potash, and there's no soap on Krishna. So…"

  Again Barnevelt started to withdraw, but the fat man clamped a grip on his arm. "Gonna be the plant's soap magnate, eh? When you finish with the Krishnans, they'll be all civilized like us and you'll have to find another planet. Say, when'd you—uh—marry this dame?"

  "About a year ago."

  "Any kids?"

  "Three. And would you mind letting go my arm?"

  "Three. Let's see. Three? Is this the planet with years twjce as long as ours? No-o, the years are shorter than on Earth. Three, eh? Haw haw haw…"

  Barnevelt's ruddy countenance turned purple and his knobby fist smashed into the fat face. Elias reeled back, upset a table, and crashed to the floor.

  "For God's sake, Dirk!" cried Kennedy, moving to interfere.

  "Nobody insults my wife," growled Barnevelt.

  "But," said the fat man's companion, "I don't understand. You did say three, and, that is, you know…"

  Barnevelt turned on him. "We had triplets. What's funny about that?"