by Hugh Cook
"Of course he is," said Master Zoplin. "You look as if you took a bath in liquid snot then cleaned your ears with a dog turd.
How else should you be called but filth?"
"I am not filth but royalty," said Lord X'dex. "Know me in my might, for I am Lord X'dex Paspilion, master of the Greater Tower of X-n'dix in the mighty kingdom of X-zox Kalada."
"Then know the boy Oliver as your superior," said Beggar Grim, "for he has the greatest of Greater Towers at spring between his thighs, whereas yours is but a worm, and useless, yes, and last month's piss the smell of it."
"I dispute it!" said Lord X'dex. "Come! A trial of proof!
Hey, Oliver-boy! Bring your piss-stick this way!"
"He lingers," said Master Zoplin.
"He knows himself secretly a woman," said Lord X'dex.
"Wherefore he lingers where a man would leap."
"A woman?" said Beggar Grim. "Why, if a woman then all the more reason for leaping, for I am man sufficient to rape him out of his virgin ugliness."
"You will bring your people to order," said Lupus to Hatch, a note of desperation intermixed with his anger.
"Or?" said Hatch.
"The Season starts in a month," said Lupus.
There was only one Season in Dalar ken Halvar, a city where the climate was ever a constant. The Season referred to by Lupus was the three months of the year in which the Grand Arena became a stage for gaudy death and bloody execution.
Lupus's words constituted a challenge. Lupus Lon Oliver was inviting Asodo Hatch to join him on the sands of the Grand Arena where they could duel it out for real, fighting with swords like the atavistic heroes of the more childish entertainments of the Eye of Delusions.
"I await then the start of the Season," said Hatch, with due formality.
It was an empty formality. He would never face Lupus on the sands of the Grand Arena, for their quarrel would be resolved one way or the other much sooner – probably by the mob.
"The day," said Lupus, with conviction, ducking a wodge of tofu thrown at him by Master Zoplin, "cannot come too soon."
The beggars then began to systematically pelt the unfortunate Lupus with all the food at their disposal.
"Settle, settle," said Paraban Senk, calling for order.
But the audience did not settle until the beggars ceased fire, which they only did because they had exhausted their supply of ammunition.
"Lon Oliver," said Paraban Senk, speaking into the relative silence. "State your case."
Whereupon Lupus stated his position very clearly and simply:
"I seek adjudication of my combat with Asodo Hatch," said he.
"If I have been overhearing aright," said Paraban Senk, "then you seek to meet Hatch on the sands in the Season." At this a murmer went up from the audience. Senk ignored it and continued:
"Will you seek to have that battle also resolved by adjudication?"
This hinted of sarcasm, and Hatch was momentarily surprised.
Why would Paraban Senk make Lupus the butt of his sarcasm when he wanted Lupus to be the next instructor? Why – of course! – so nobody would suspect Senk of partiality.
In any case, Lupus was unmoved by Senk's sally.
"I am of the Nexus," said Lupus staunchly, "and seek a resolution of an affair of the Nexus in accordance of the laws of the Nexus. Hatch fled from battle. I demand adjudication. I ask that the combat be awarded to me."
"Is that it?" said Senk. "Is that your case, complete in its entirety?"
"That is all," said Lupus. "It's enough, isn't it?"
"We will see," said Senk. "Asodo Hatch. State your case."
"He has no case!" said Lupus, giving way to anger. His volatility spoke of stress, of uncertainty, of strained nerves and fatigue. "Stop playing games with me, Senk! He ran. He lost."
"That is for him to say," said Senk.
"Fates!" said Lupus, irritated beyond bearing. "You watched it! You've got a record. What more do we need?"
"Motive," said Senk. "Asodo Hatch has a mind for which he must speak because I cannot."
"Battles are not decided by motive," said Lupus. "The combat decides. Decided. Hatch ran."
"On the contrary," said Senk. "The very fact that you are here seeking adjudication is a self-sufficient proof of the fact that this battle was not decided at all. Hence I require from Hatch a statement of his motive – his why for doing what he did.
Hatch."
"My motive was simple," said Hatch. "I desired to bring Lon Oliver to his death. I chose as my weapon of war the very environment itself. I call your attention to the Book of War. It states, does it not – here I paraphrase, but it does so state – that the environment is ever the greatest killer. Is that not what it states? The jungle was my weapon. My weapon of choice. I did not run from battle. Rather, I made a tactical withdrawal calculated to expose Lupus to certain disaster."
"These tactics are orthodox," said Senk.
"Orthodox!" exploded Lupus. "What made him think me meat for death?"
"Hatch?" said Senk.
"I have dwelt in the wilderness," said Asodo Hatch. "I can live there with ease for a day or forever. Lon Oliver has not.
He is a child of the Nexus, soft and weak. My choice of tactics necessarily doomed him down into the jungle. We all know the flight life of a singlefighter. My tactics forced him into the swamp, the snake-heat, the jungle. By my tactics he dies and I claim myself the killer."
"Wah!" said Lupus.
"Hatch has spoken," said Senk. "And you?"
"I stand by my record," said Lupus. "You know my record.
Perhaps you would care to share it with Asodo Hatch."
Senk sighed, and then:
"Asodo Hatch, your tactics displayed audacity and wit, a sound knowledge of your own strengths and points of weakness, and a remarkable degree of originality. Yet you erred in one thing, and that was your assessment of your enemy."
"I erred?"
"Do you think yourself beyond error?"
"But I – "
"Hatch," said Senk, "Lupus has stacked up time in the illusion tanks doing survival training. Wilderness survival training."
"How much time?" said Hatch.
"Seven full days and a fraction in the last standard year," said Senk.
"But that's nothing!" said Hatch.
"Taken as a series of arduous survival sessions of a duration of ten arcs each, it is rather a lot," said Senk.
"Ten arcs is nothing," said Hatch. "It means he's never had to sleep in the wilderness. It means – "
"Hatch," said Senk, with a sharpness of tone which spoke of extreme displeasure.
"My lord," said Hatch, suitably abashed.
"Hatch, I am not your lord, but I am your teacher," said Senk. "Earlier in his training in the Combat College, Lupus Lupus did several long-duration wilderness survival sessions in the illusion tanks. The sessions of the last year were simply refreshers."
So.
Of course.
It was all starting to make sense now.
Lon Oliver was of the Free Corps, and the Free Corps preached a doctrine of the supreme individual, the masterman who could overcome all through intellectual audacity and physical skill. Of course Lupus would be attracted to Ultimate Tests of all kinds, wilderness survival being just one of these.
"Your ruling, then," said Hatch.
"I adjudge the wilderness survival chances of Lon Oliver to be equal to those of Asodo Hatch," said Paraban Senk.
"Accordingly, I adjudicate the results of the last combat session between Lupus and Hatch to be a draw. I award the contestants half a point each. Lon Oliver now has a score of half a point, of 0.5. Asodo Hatch now has a score of 0.5000057."
So Hatch was still leading.
But only just.
"Do you wish to take a rest now?" said Paraban Senk.
"A rest?" said Lupus. "I – "
"The choice is not yours," said Senk, cutting Lupus short.
"I addressed Hatch. He has seniority.
The choice is his."
"Seniority?" said Lupus in outrage.
"He was in the Service when you were still bullying your brothers at the bottom of the Heights of Learning," said Senk.
"Hatch. You choose."
Hatch calculated furiously. Paraban Senk had privately stated his partisanship. Senk wanted Lupus to win. Yet Senk had given choice of timing to Hatch. Hatch was strongly motivated to defer the combat, because he wanted to maximize the length of time which his wife, his daughter and his mistress enjoyed the protection of the Combat College. Senk would surely know this, which implied that Senk wanted the combat deferred. Which meant that Senk thought that Lupus would do better if he was given a chance to cool down, a chance to discipline his present anger.
Or perhaps Senk thought Lupus needed to sleep. In Hatch's judgment, Lupus was suffering very badly from lack of sleep.
"What time is it?" said Hatch.
"Midnight has been and gone," said Senk. "The Day of Three Fishes is behind us, and we are entered upon the Day of Two Fishes."
The Day of Two Fishes.
Just two days short of Dog Day.
"But it is not yet dawn?" said Hatch.
"Dawn is still a long ways distant," said Paraban Senk.
"Then," said Hatch, rousing his voice to an artificial vibrancy which masked the true depths of his own fatigue, "since the night is so young, I am ready to fight on further. However, Lupus is young in his own flesh, and it is well known that the young need more sleep than their seniors. Accordingly, it may well be that Lupus would prefer to sleep, even though I for my part am ready to fight on. Since that is so, I defer to the choice of my junior colleague."
Lupus was incensed. He was inflamed and furious at being called junior colleague – but he was now in such a state that he would have been equally enraged even had he been called the hero of the millennium. In his fury, Lupus declared:
"I will fight Hatch now. And I will kill him."
"Then," said Paraban Senk, "let me brief you. No, Hatch!
Don't leave! I will brief you here."
So Asodo Hatch and Lupus Lon Oliver stood fast, and Paraban Senk looked down at them from Forum Three's display screen and told them their doom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Motsu Kazuka: the language of the Nu-chala-nuth. In defiance of Nexus policy, the People refuse to teach the Ninetongue of the Nexus to any of prepubescent blood. Thus for the People the Ninetongue is always a second learning, and many are less than fluent even in the Code Seven Commonspeech, which serves beneath a billion suns as the language of day-to-day communication and communion.
Ah! Fluid the blood, the ballet,
The fluent flux which entertains as we In sated sugars watch and coy – while shadows Sabotage our locks, and shape To slice and dice, titanium and steel.
"Startrooper Hatch," said Senk. "Startrooper Lon Oliver. I have something very special in store for you."
There was momentary pause. Hatch briefly thought that Senk was going to command them to fight each other in the fact of the flesh, blade against blade or fist against fist. If so – then so be it! He was ready. But – "Combat will take place in the illusion tanks, as usual," said Senk, as if reading Hatch's mind. "You will each have command of a Galactic Class MegaCommand Cruiser."
"In what setting?" said Hatch, trying to control his dismay.
It was what he had expected, but it was still hard to hear his doom and know himself defeated. The MegaCommand was the biggest and the best of all the starships of the Nexus. Lon Oliver loved the thing, but Hatch had never felt confident in its employment. He was going to loose this encounter. He was sure of it.
"Your battle will be played out in deep space," said Senk.
"A quick-plunge?" said Lupus, with those words asking if the combatants would be plunged straight into battle.
"No," said Senk. You will each have three arcs to prepare your MegaCommands for battle."
"Three arcs," said Hatch.
This increased his despondency. Three arcs was roughly a quarter of a night. Since Lupus was the one who knew the MegaCommand best, Lupus was the one who would be better able to use the luxury of so much time.
"Three arcs, yes," said Senk. "One final thing. This combat will take place in the context of an interesting scenario."
An interesting scenario? What did that mean? Hatch presumed that Senk had thought up something new. But what?
"As all Startroopers and Combat Cadets know full well," said Paraban Senk, "the Nexus endured appalling damage during the Spasm Wars. Billions died. It was the People of the Nu-chala-nuth who provoked those Spasm Wars. Billions died because of Nu-chala-nuth.
Right now, to my dismay, I find those same alien doctrines of Nuchala-nuth have sparked riot and disorder in Dalar ken Halvar itself."
"Yes," said Lupus loudly. "And Hatch, Asodo Hatch, he was the one, he wrote, he taught, his thesis, it's all his fault."
Hatch tried to protest.
"My thesis – "
"Silence!" said Senk, voice amplified to thunder-clap, blasting Hatch's protest into silence. "This is the scenario. A Nexus ship crewed exclusively by the Nu-chala-nuth has mutinied.
Asodo Hatch is the captain of that ship. A ship loyal to the purity of the Nexus has been sent to destroy the mutinous ship.
Lupus Lon Oliver is the captain of the loyal ship."
Again Hatch tried to protest.
"Listen," said Hatch, "I never – "
"You wrote the thesis!" said Senk, again over-riding Hatch by brute force of amplification. "You brought the doctrines of Nuchala-nuth to Dalar ken Halvar, you and none other. As for Lupus Lon Oliver, he told me long ago that he never wished to command any of the Nu-chala-nuth. He would not have them as crew on his ships. That was what he said. You made your choices, both of you.
You made your choices long ago. Now live by your choices. Go! To the combat bays. Now! Go!"
By now, both Hatch and Lupus had clamped their hands to their ears to muffle the force of that onslaught. Paraban Senk was booming like a thunder-god.
"You have your orders!" said Senk. "Go!"
Hatch saw he was going to be shouted down if he tried to protest further, so he fled. All the way to the combat bays he swore savagely. Senk had set him up nicely. By making this a combat of MegaCommand Cruisers, Senk had doomed Hatch to defeat.
And by giving Hatch command of a mutinous Nu-chala-nuth MegaCommand Cruiser, Senk had underlined Hatch's responsibility for the real-world revolution now taking place in Dalar ken Halvar itself.
"Bitch of a bastard!" said Hatch.
Then gained his chosen combat bay. Its door hardened to kaleidoscope. He slammed his fist against the door. Savagely.
Testing it. The door held. Very well. Hatch dropped himself into the initiation seat. Paraban Senk's face appeared on the combat bay's display screen.
"How do you feel?" said Senk.
"How do you think I feel?" said Hatch. "You want to kill me, don't you?"
"I am obedient to my priorities," said Senk. "My ruling priority is simple. I must train Startroopers. Lupus Lon Oliver can assist me with that task. You cannot."
"I can," said Hatch.
"How so?" said Senk.
Hatch was on the spot. Unless he could talk his way out of this one, he was going to be defeated in battle, he was going to be expelled from the Combat College in consequence of his defeat, and he would be killed in Dalar ken Halvar by those who saw him as being responsible for the revolution in that city.
"I can help you," said Hatch, "Because I'm politically astute enough to take control of the Nu-chala-nuth. To lead the revolution."
Even as he said it, it sounded like madness. But what alternative did he have? Senk had publicly linked Hatch with the Nu-chala-nuth. Senk had named Hatch as the person responsible for the revolution. Senk had seated him on a tiger, and now he must ride it or be eaten.
"You'd what!?" said Senk. "You'd lead a religious revolution?
I
couldn't permit such a disaster."
"On the contrary," said Hatch. "You must permit exactly that.
Because – because a revolution led by the Nu-chala-nuth is your sole chance of survival."
"That's a nonsense," said Senk.
"Is it?" said Hatch. "The physical fabric of the Combat College is starting to fall apart. One of the airlock doors is gone. Most of the combat bays don't work any more. The cafeteria food is questionable. You won't be able to work unassisted. Not for much longer."
"I'll do my best," said Senk. "The Free Corp will help me."
"Ah," said Hatch. "But what's the Free Corp's motivation?"
"The Free Corps," said Senk, "is motivated by loyalty to the Nexus. If you've got a point, then make it quickly, Hatch. Lon Oliver is asking me why there's a delay."
"Then let him audit this conversation," said Hatch. "Senk, listen to me. The Free Corps is dominated by submission psychology. The Free Corps gives you its loyalty because you're the biggest, strongest, most powerful thing around."
"The Nu-chala-nuth are ruled by a similar psychological priority," said Senk.
"Ah," said Hatch. "But you're doomed to fail, and publicly.
Your doors are breaking down, your functions failing. Soon you'll need active human help to accomplish your mission. The Free Corps won't help you when you're a cripple."
"That's debatable," said Senk.
"But the Nu-chala-nuth will!" said Hatch. "If you ally yourself with the Nu-chala-nuth, then you can make yourself the temple of the religion, the repository of holy knowledge. You can teach the Motsu Kazuka, teach the purity of the truth."
"Nu-chala-nuth is too dangerous to deal with," said Senk.
"Is it?" said Hatch. "You'll have the whole of the Empire of Greater Parengarenga to deal with unless the Silver Emperor shows up. Will the Free Corps fight the entire Empire? Senk, Nu-chalanuth is a crusading religion. It can conquer the entire continent for the Nexus."
"I am not here to accomplish acts of conquest," said Senk.
"But you may find yourself embroiled in war regardless," said Hatch. "The Silver Emperor has guaranteed the peace of Parengarenga by treaties maintained by the prestige of his magic.
With the emperor missing, maybe kidnapped, maybe dead, war inevitably follows. Can the Free Corps secure you against the wrath of an entire empire? That I don't know, but I know full well that a militant religion like Nu-chala-nuth can conquer Parengarenga and more. Think about it, Senk."