by Gene Wolfe
Auk straightened up, his left hand on the hilt of the big, brass-mounted hanger he wore. "All right. You wanted my advice, Patera. I'll give it to you, but I don't think you're going to get it down easy."
"I'd like to have it, nevertheless."
"I thought you would. You run wide of this Hy, for now anyhow. Just finding her's liable to be dicey, and more than likely she'll squeak to this Crane buck straight off. Jugs says she didn't know she was spying. Maybe so. But if this Crane stood this Hy an azoth, you can bet the basket this Hy knows, and is trotting behind. If she was the only handle you had, I'd say go to it. But that's not the lay. If this Crane had Jugs telling him all about colonels and what they said, and this Hy doing the same, and that's what it sounds like, wouldn't he have maybe four or five others, too? Most likely at some of Blood's other kens. And when Jugs is gone- cause she says she's going-won't he line up somebody else at Orchid's?"
Chenille suggested, "The best thing might be for me to go back to Orchid's after all. If I'd talk against Viron a little, he might let me help more. Maybe I could find out who the woman in the market is."
Silk explained, "There's a stallkeeper there who seems to be a contact of Crane's, Auk. Crane had Chenille carry images of Sphigx to her. Was it always Sphigx, Chenille?"
She nodded, her fiery curls trembling. "They always looked just like that one I showed you, as near as I can remember."
"Then see what happens to them," Auk suggested. "When the market closes, where does this mort go?"
"Good Silk!" Oreb dropped from the vines to light in his lap. "Fish heads?"
"Possibly," Silk told the bird, as it hopped onto his shoulder. "In fact, I think it likely."
He returned his attention to Auk. "You're quite right, of course. I've been thinking too much about Hyacinth. I'd hate to see Chenille return to Orchid's, but either of the courses that you suggest-and they're by no means mutually exclusive-would be preferable to approaching Hyacinth, I'm afraid, without some hold on her. When we learn a bit more, however, we should have such a hold. We'll be able to warn her that we know Crane's an agent of another city, that we have evidence that's at least highly suggestive, and that we're aware that she's been assisting him. We'll offer to protect her, provided that she'll assist us."
Chenille asked, "You don't think Crane's Vironese? He talks like one of us."
"No. Mostly because he seems to control so much money, but also because of something he once said to me. I know nothing of spies or spying, however. Nor do you, I think. What about you, Auk?"
The big man shrugged. "You hear this and that. Mostly it's traders, from what they say."
"I suppose that practically every city must question its traders when they return home, and no doubt some traders are actually trained agents. I would imagine that an agent well supplied with money would be like them-that is to say, a citizen in the service of his native city-and probably thoroughly schooled in the ways of the place to which he was to be sent. An agent willing to betray his own city might betray yours as well, surely; particularly if he were given a chance to make off with a fortune."
Chenille asked, "What was it Crane said to you, Patera?"
Silk leaned toward her. "What color are my eyes?"
"Blue. I wish mine were."
"Suppose that a patron at Orchid's requested a companion with blue eyes. Would Orchid be able to oblige him?"
"Arolla. No, she's gone now. But Bellflower's still there. She has blue eyes, too."
Silk leaned back. "You see, blue eyes are unusual-here in Viron, at any rate; but they're by no means really rare. Collect a hundred people, and it's quite likely that at least one will have blue eyes. I notice them because I used to be teased about mine. Crane noticed them, too; but he, a much older man than I, said that mine were only the third he'd seen. That suggests that he has spent most of his life in another city, where people are somewhat darker and blue eyes rarer than they are here."
Auk grinned. "They got tails In Gens. That's what they say."
Silk nodded. "Yes, one hears all sorts of stories, most quite false, I'm sure. Nevertheless, you have only to look at the traders in the market to see that there are contrasts as well as similarities."
He paused to collect his thoughts. "I've let myself be drawn off the subject, however. I was going to say, Auk, that although both the courses you suggested are promising, there is a third that seems more promising still to me. You're not at fault for failing to point it out, since you weren't here when Chenille provided the intimation.
"Chenille, you told me that a commissioner had been to Orchid's, remember? And that Crane was intensely interested when you told him that this commissioner had told you he had gone to Limna-you said to the lake, but I assume that's what was intended-to confer with two councillors."
Chenille nodded.
"That started me thinking. There are five councillors in the Ayuntamiento. Where do they live?"
She shrugged. "On the hill, I guess." "That's what I'd always supposed myself. Auk, you must be far more familiar with the residents of the Palatine than either Chenille or I am. Where does, say, Councillor Galago make his home?"
"I always figured in theJuzgado. I hear there's flats in there, besides some cells."
"The councillors have offices in the Juzgado, I'm sure. But don't they have mansions on the Palatine as well? Or their own country villas like Blood's?"
"What they say is nobody's supposed to know. Patera. If they did, people would always be wanting to talk to them or throw rocks. But I know who's in every one of those houses on the hill, and it isn't them. All the commissioners have big places up there, though."
Silk's voice sank to a murmur. "But when a commissioner was to speak with several councillors, he did not go home to the Palatine. Nor did he merely ascend a floor or two in the Juzgado. From what Chenille says, he went to Limna-to the lake, as he told her. When one man is to speak with several, he normally goes to them rather than having them come to him, and that is particularly so when they're his superiors. Now if Crane is in fact a spy, he must surely be concerned to discover where every member of the Ayuntamiento lives, I'd think. All sorts of things might be learned from their servants, for example." He fell silent.
"Go on, Patera," Chenille urged.
He smiled at her. "I was merely thinking that since you told Crane about the commissioner's boast some months ago, he's apt to have been there several times by now. I want to go there myself today and try to find out who he's talked to and what lie's said to them. If the gods are with me-as I've reason to believe-that alone may provide all the evidence we require."
She said, "I'm coming with you. How about you, Auk?"
The big man shook his head. "I've been up all night, like I told you. But I'll tell you what. Let me get a little sleep, and I'll meet you in Limna where the wagons stop. Say about four o'clock."
"You needn't put. yourself out like that, Auk."
"I want to. If you've got something by then, I might be able to help you get more. Or maybe I can turn up something myself. There's good fish places there, and I'll spring for dinner and ride back to the city with you."
Chenille hugged him. "I always knew how handsome you were, Hackum, but I never knew how sweet you are. You're a real dimberdamber!"
Auk grinned. "To make a start, this's my city, Jugs. It's not all gilt, but it's all I got. And there's a few friends in the Guard. When you two have washed down this buck Crane, what do you plan to do with him?"
Silk said, "Report him, I'd think."
Chenille shook her head. "He'd tell about the money, and they'd want it. We might have to kill him ourselves. Didn't you augurs send sprats to Scylla in the old days?"
"That could get him tried for murder, Jugs," Auk told her. "No, what you want to do is roll this Crane over to Hoppy. Only if you're going to queer it, you'd be better off doing him. They'll beat it out of you, grab the deck and send you with him. It'd be a lily grab on you, Jugs, 'cause you helped him. As for the Pat
era here, Crane saw to his hoof and rode him to Orchid's in his own dilly, so it'd be candy to smoke up something."
He waited for them to contradict him, but neither did.
"Only if you go flash, if you roll him over to some bob culls with somebody like me to say Pas for you, we'll all be stanch cits and heroes too. Hoppy'll grab the glory while we buy him rope. That way he'll hand us a smoke smile and a warm and friendly shake, hoping we'll have something else to roll another time. I've got to have pals like that to lodge and dodge. So do you two, you just don't know it. You scavy I never turned up the bloody rags, riffling some cardcase's ken? You scavy I covered 'em up and left him be? Buy it, I washed him if he'd stand still. And if he wouldn't, why, I rolled him over."
Silk nodded. "I see. I felt that your guidance would be of value, and I don't believe that Chenille could call me wrong. Could you, Chenille?"
She shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "That's rum, 'cause I'm not finished yet. What's this hotpot's name, Jugs?"
"Simuliid."
"I'm flash. Big cully, ox weight, with a mustache?"
She nodded.
"Patera and me ought to pay a call, maybe, when we get back from the lake. How's your hoof, Patera?"
"Much better today," Silk said, "but what have we to gain from seeing the commissioner?"
Oreb cocked his head attentively and hopped up into the grapevines again.
"I hope we won't. I want a look around, 'specially if you and Jugs go empty at the lake. Maybe those councillors live way out there like you say, Patera. But maybe, too, there's something out there that they wanted to show off to him, or that he had to show off to them. You hear kink talk about the lake, and if you and Jugs plan to fish for this Crane cull, you might want bait. So we'll pay this Simuliid a call, up on the hill tonight. Plate to me, bait to you, and split the overs."
Oreb hopped onto the back of the old wooden seat. "Man come!"
Nodding, Silk rose and parted the vines. A thick-bodied young man in an augur's black robe was nudging shut the side door of the manteion; he appeared to be staring at something in his hands.
"Over here," Silk called. "Patera Gulo?" He stepped out of the arbor and limped across the dry, brown grass to the newcomer. "May every god favor you this day. I'm very pleased to see you, Patera."
"A man in the street, Patera"-Gulo held up a dangling, narrow object sparkling with yellow and green-"he simply-we-he wouldn't-"
Auk had followed Silk. "Mostly topaz, but that looks like a pretty fair emerald." Reaching past him, he relieved Gulo of the bracelet and held it up to admire.
"This lady's Chenille, Patera Gulo." By a gesture, Silk indicated the arbor, "and this gentleman is Auk. Both are prominent laypersons of our quarter, exceedingly devout and cherished by all of the gods, I feel sure. I'll be leaving with them in a few minutes, and I rely on you to deal with the affairs of our manteion during my absence. You'll find Maytera Marble-in the cenoby there-a perfect fisc of valuable information and sound advice."
"A man gave it to me!" Gulo blurted. "Just a minute ago, Patera. He simply pressed it into my hand!"
"I see." Silk nodded matter-of-factly as he reassured himself that the azoth beneath his tunic was indeed there. "Return that to Patera Gulo, please, Auk."
"You'll find our cashbox under my bed, Patera. The key is underneath the carafe on the nightstand. Wait a moment." He took the diamond anklet from his pocket and handed it to Gulo. "Put them in there and lock them up safely, if you will, Patera. It might be best for you to keep the key in your pocket. I should return about the time that the market closes, or a little after."
"Bad man!" Oreb proclaimed from the top of the arbor. "Bad man!"
"It's your black robe, Patera," Silk explained. "He's afraid he may be sacrificed. Come here, Oreb! We're off to the lake. Fish heads, you silly bird."
In a frantic flurry of wings, the injured night chough landed heavily on Silk's own black-robed shoulder.
Chapter 6. LAKE LIMNA
"What was it you said, my son?" Silk dropped to one knee to bring his face to the height of the small boy's own. "Ma says ask a blessing." His attention seemed equally divided between Silk and Oreb.
"And why do you wish it?"
The small boy did not reply.
"Isn't it because you want the immortal gods to view you with favor, my son? Didn't they teach you something about that at the palaestra? I'm sure they must have."
Reluctantly, the small boy nodded. Silk traced the sign of addition over the boy's head and recited the shortest blessing in common use, ending it with, "In the name of their eldest child, Scylla, Patroness of this, Our Holy City of Viron, and in that of the Outsider, of all gods the eldest."
"Are you really Patera Silk?"
None of the half dozen persons waiting for the holobitwagon to Limna turned to look, yet Silk was painfully aware of a sudden stiffening of postures; Lake Street, although it was far from quiet, seemed somehow quieter.
"Yes, he is," Chenille announced proudly.
One of the waiting men stepped toward Silk and knelt, his head bowed. Before Silk could trace the sign of addition, two more had knelt beside the first.
He was saved by the arrival of the wagon-long-bodied, gaily painted, surmounted by a jiggling old patterned canvas canopy, and drawn by two weary horses. "One bit," boomed the driver, vaulting from his post. "A bit to Limna. No credit no trade, everybody sits in the shade."
"I've got it," Chenille said.
"So do I," Silk told her in his most inflexible tone, and hushed several passengers who tried say that Patera Silk ought to ride free. When he pocketed Silk's bits, the driver said, "You'll have to get off if anybody complains about the bird," and was startled by a chorus of protests.
"I don't like this," Silk told Chenille as they found places on one of the long, outward-facing benches. "People have been writing things on walls, and I don't like that, either."
The driver cracked his whip, and the wagon lurched ahead.
" 'Silk for Calde . . . ?' Is that what you mean, Silk? A good idea."
"That's right." He extracted his beads from his pocket. "Or rather, it's wrong. Wrong as concerns me, and wrong as it concerns the office of calde. I'm not a politician, and no inducement that you could name would ever persuade me to become one. As for the caldeship, it's become nothing more than a popular superstition, a purely historical curiosity. My mother knew the last calde, but he died shortly after I was born."
"I remember him. I think?" `Without looking at her, Silk told her miserably, "If you meant half what you've said, you can't possibly recall him, Comely Kypris. Chenille's four years younger than I am." "Then I'm thinking about.. . someone else. Aren't you worried? Silk? Traveling with somebody like me? All of these people know who you are."
"I hope that they do, Great Goddess, and that they're thoroughly disillusioned now-that without dishonoring my sacred calling I save my life."
A particularly vicious jolt threw Silk against the woman on his right, who apologized profusely. When he had begged her pardon instead, he began the prayer of the voided cross. "Great Pas, designer and creator of the whorl, lord guardian and keeper of the Aureate Path-" The path across the sky that was the spiritual equivalent of the sun, he reminded himself. Sacrifices rose to it, and so were brought in the end to Mainframe, where both the sun and the Path began, at the east pole. The spirits of the dead walked that glorious road, too, if not weighted with evil, and it was asserted in the Chrasmologic Writings that the spirits of certain holy theodidacts had at times abandoned the shapen mud of their corporeal bodies and-joining the crowding, lowing beasts and the penitent dead-journeyed to Mainframe to confer for a time with the god who had enlightened them. He himself was a theodidact, Silk reminded himself, having been enlightened by the Outsider. He had finished the voided cross and (he counted them by touch) four beads already. Murmuring the prescribed prayers and adding the name of the Outsider to them all, he willed himself to leave his body and this crowded
street and unite with the hastening traffic of the Aureate Path.
For an instant it seemed that he had succeeded, though it was not. the sun's golden road that he saw, but the frigid black emptiness beyond the whorl, dotted here and there with gleaming sparks.
"Talking of writing on walls, Silk. Silk? Look there. Open your eyes."
He did. It was a poster, badly but boldly printed in red and black, so new that no one had yet torn it or scrawled an obscene drawing over it, which in this quarter probably meant that it had been up less than an hour.
STRONG YOUNG MEN WILL BE WELCOMED IN THE NEW PROVISIONAL RESERVE BRIGADE Have YOU Wished to Become a GUARDSMAN? The Reserve Brigade Will Drill Twice Weekly Will Receive PAY and UNIFORMS Will Receive FIRST CONSIDERATION for
TRANSFER TO THE REGULAR FORMATIONS
Apply THIRD BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS Colonel Oosik, Commanding
"You don't think the kite tired him too much?"
It was not the first time Blood had asked the question, and Musk had tired of saying no. This time he said, "I told you. Aquila's a female." The huge hooded bird on his wrist baited as he spoke, whether at the sound of her name, or at that of his voice, or by mere coincidence. Musk waited for her to slake before he finished the thought. "Males don't get this big. For Molpe's sake listen sometime."
"All right-all right. Maybe a smaller one could fly higher."
"She can do it. The bigger they are, the higher they fly. You ever see a sparrow fly any higher than that bald head of yours?" Musk spoke without looking at the fleshy, red-faced man to whom he spoke, his eyes upon his eagle or on the sky. "I still think we should've let Hoppy in."
"If they bring it back, in a week they'll have done it themselves."
"They fly high, way up close to the sun. If we get one, he could come down anywhere."
"We've got three floaters with three men in each floater. We've got five on highriders."
With his free hand, Musk lifted his binoculars. Though he knew there was nothing there, he scanned the clear vacancy overhead.