The Fall of the Families

by Phillip Mann

  Although he was reasonably certain that he was not spied upon (his own experts had checked the rooms thoroughly) he set up & small diffusion screen, which spread until its sphere of influence enclosed the whole area occupied by Pawl. Nothing could peer within. Safe within the screen Pawl opened his trunk.

  It had been adapted into two compartments, each with its own atmosphere seal. He broke one seal and set the lid to the side. Within was a material like dark brown sand composed of large granules. It was the finest insulator known.

  Pawl plunged his hands into the sand and removed a rope of what looked like shiny dark onions. But the onions pulsed and their skins were warm. These were the eggs of the Spideret. Pawl cut the cords which joined the eggs. A fine milky fluid gathered at each of the cuts and sealed it. Then he gathered the eggs into a towel. He crossed to the room which housed the particle shower and standard vacuum lavatory.

  In lots of three he dropped the eggs down the lavatory and heard the whoosh of air as they were sucked down towards the base of the tree. On their way they joined excrement from the guards’ quarter, offal from the butchers, slime and cuttings from the hydroponics hangars and whatever organic material was abandoned by the small army of workers who kept the great tree functioning as a house. They dropped into a fearful brew that was stirred by great crusted paddles.

  Morrow was an efficient planet. Nothing went to waste. Everything was recycled to become food and water and raw materials. The eggs bobbed on the surface, where the temperature was perfect to encourage their growth. Within hours they had doubled their size and their skins had become tight. One by one the eggs tore as sharp incisors from within cut through and began to consume them. Small Spiderets, replicas of their giant parents, emerged in twos and threes from the eggs. They were light enough, and could spread their weight sufficiently, to walk over the scum which covered the liquid in the settling tank. At the edges they climbed the hairy slime, worked their way up crevices and arrived finally in the long recesses where pipes carried fresh water, slurry and gas. There they settled to grow.

  The second compartment of Pawl’s trunk contained a pale yellow fluid with the consistency of oil. Within the slickness things moved like white eels. Pawl watched, fascinated, as the Lyre Beast began to work its way out of its chamber. This was the same creature that Pawl had come to know on his Homeworld, though for ease of transport it had cut itself into two entities. Now it rose like creeping threads of white cotton, defying gravity, working steadily up and out of the old travelling chest and across the floor. It spread in all directions. Some threads touched Pawl’s hand where he knelt close to the chest. He felt a sharp tingle, a start of pain, as though he had been touched by hot wire. The Lyre Beast adjusted its electrical potential and the pain faded. He also received a jolt of laughter. Pawl found this strangest of all. Try as he would he could not accept that this creature that looked like torn lace, that moved with such silence, could feel what he called laughter. But there it was.

  The Lyre Beast lifted its final tangled threads from the chest by inducing rigidity. It rose like the frame of an umbrella and walked a few paces before collapsing into threads again close to the bed. There it found the hidden lines which fed power to the vivante in the corner and the particle shower. Again it shifted its potential and for a few moments it glowed brightly. It found its way into the power lines and began to spread along them.

  Pawl watched it go. It left behind its negative image burned into the rich carpet. I’m going to have a job explaining that, thought Pawl as the last of the Lyre Beast disappeared like the tail of a mouse.

  Pawl knew where the creature was going. It would work its way down to the powerhouse in the base of the tree. There it would feed on energy before beginning to spread throughout the circuits of the house. Given time it would divide again, and then divide again, and send parts of itself down the subterranean rivers which linked all the trees and formed the planet-wide transit system. At some time it would make contact with the nurseling Spiderets. Then….

  A polite bell sounded in Pawl’s chambers, summoning him to a banquet. Quickly he climbed up from his knees and closed his trunk and doused the diffusion screen. He changed hurriedly and was ready in a few minutes to escort a resplendent Clarissa down to the main banqueting hall.

  41

  DEPARTURES FROM BENNET

  When Pawl returned to his Homeworld, he discovered that the alien war council had departed. They had moved to their different battle stations. They had left Pawl a simple message, in the care of Peron. It stated, “Many voices: one song.”

  He flew over to the mainland and visited the grey domes and underground passages where the aliens had lived. The smell of the Hooded Parasol still lingered and there were rasp marks on the walls where Trader, the Hammer, had passed; but of the other inhabitants there were no signs.

  Pawl returned to his island home wondering what he should do.

  He saw his Homeworld working with the smooth efficiency of a simple economy in which every participant knows his responsibility and his reward. Pawl did not feel himself to be a part of it.

  Sitting alone one evening he realized that the time had come to depart. There was nothing more he could do. There was nothing more for him to do here on Bennet Island. Better he hand over and move on.

  The very next morning, shortly after dawn, he summoned Peron to him.

  “Would you like to run a Homeworld?”

  “I’m happy as I am. I have my studies. The history of the Paxwax will be complete in about another five years … that is, unless you start another war.” Peron smiled his crooked scarred smile as he said this. Since coming to know the aliens, Peron had felt less distressed about the future. He had even begun to study the sign language of the Spiderets.

  “Well, Peron. I never wanted to be Master, either … but there we are.”

  Pawl watched Peron’s smile fade to a look of puzzlement. “Are you asking me to take over here? Is that what you are asking?”

  Pawl nodded. “Everything. The works. I want to leave it all behind me. This island has no happy memories for me. You are a new man, a good man. You and the rest of the people will survive without me.”

  “I don’t want to be a leader.”

  “Well, perhaps you can all survive without leaders. It is an idea worth trying. But I am leaving. Odin will depart with me.”

  “When?” There was a sudden worry in Peron’s voice.

  “Perhaps tonight.”

  “But you can’t. I mean, you can’t just walk away from the Mastership of one of the greatest Families in the Galaxy. You can’t.”

  “Just watch me.”

  “But what will I do? I don’t know anything about running a Family.”

  “You won’t be running a Family. You will be running this one little island. And most of it takes care of itself, anyway. You will be running yourself. No more wondering about the Paxwax or the Proctors. Or whether a trade war is going to dislocate your whole way of life. Just worry about yourself and your neighbours. And Wynn will be here to help you. Won’t you, Wynn?”

  A hollow voice sounded in the roof. “If you say so, Master Pawl. Though there will be difficulties. I am very set in your habits.”

  “Well, you can unset yourself. Now, Peron. Go for a walk. Take the day off from your studies. Go down by the stream and watch the fish. Come back to me when the night has fallen and not before. Clear?” Peron nodded and departed. He felt that he should have a thousand questions, but he couldn’t think of one.

  During the rest of that day Pawl worked with Wynn, gradually and carefully withdrawing from management of the Paxwax. Wynn’s task was to keep up appearances for a few days until Pawl was well gone. Pawl was under no illusions. He knew that when the alien revolution got underway in earnest the Way Gates would break down. He wanted to make sure that as many worlds as possible had a chance of independent survival. The vivante system would be left intact.

  Though Wynn did everything that Pawl requested t
here was a detectable mulishness in its responses. Finally, when he could no longer stand the computer’s cold, unquestioning acquiescence, Pawl demanded to know what was wrong.

  “Do not become too human, Wynn, always looking for causes. Tell me in simple words what is troubling you.”

  “Have I failed you? Have I displeased you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you not discuss your plan to depart with me before saying anything to Peron? I shall be very lonely without you. I have become a parasite on you.” Pawl looked at the matted growth of the bio-crystalline brain visible through the ceiling. He wondered at the change in Wynn. Pawl was not to know that Wynn was deforming under the pressure from the distressed Norea. “I will have Barone help you. He may find a way of helping you to accept Peron.” Wynn did not reply and the silence seemed like an accusation. Pawl decided to change the subject. “Can you guess where I am going?”

  “No.”

  “I am going to Elliott’s Pocket.”

  “I could have guessed that.”

  “Yes. And then I am going to Ultima Thule. Do you know about that world?”

  “I remember hearing Peron talk. But why go there? It was a world of fear.”

  “I have my reasons. Desperate men do desperate things.”

  There was a pause and then the computer spoke. “I shall miss you. Your mind has been more fun than a poor bio-crystalline cell has the right to expect. I will not fail you and I will help Peron, though with your empire closed down there will be little for me to do.”

  “Peron will use you in his research. Given time this silly little ornamental island could become a centre of civilization.”

  It was an hour after sunset when Peron returned. Pawl was packed and ready. All he was taking was his old trunk. Odin lay in his gravity cradle. That creature had not spoken all day.

  “Well, take care of Bennet. Handle it as you would an antique clock and it will serve you well. Remember that some time after my departure the Way Gate above here will be destroyed. Get all your jobs done before that. Only the starships of the Proctors and the Inner Circle will be able to reach you and they will be too busy, I suspect, to bother you. In any case, I am leaving all the defences intact. If the Proctor come sniffing, blow their noses off. If the Inner Circle come, treat them as a friend.”

  The two men looked at one another.

  “So,” said Pawl. “Good luck.” He turned to the door leading down from the Tower.

  “Just a minute,” said Peron. “What shall I tell people? There are bound to be questions.”

  “Well remembered. I have made you a vivante. It is for you to show to the people. It wishes them well. Says you are in charge. Offers them a chance to return to Moliere. Gives them ownership of all that they have here on Bennet. There are messages for everyone. You included. I suggest you show it tomorrow early. That is all. It is ended. Don’t come with me.”

  Quickly Pawl crossed to the door and held it open while Odin in his cradle glided through.

  The door closed. Pawl was gone.

  “I never even said goodbye,” muttered Peron.

  “Nor did I,” said Wynn.

  Outside Pawl held to the shadows, pausing if he heard people, taking the long way round through the gardens and quiet walkways. Sounds of night. Somewhere a lullaby. Laughter and a chink of glasses. Far away a horse whinnied.

  Pawl and Odin came to the shuttle. It was closed and locked, there being no more cargo expected that night, nor visitors. Pawl palmed the lock and they entered. The doors suddenly closed behind them. Wynn’s doing, Pawl realized. The computer was letting him know that it was there. Then the shuttle lurched as the magnetic contacts locked.

  Outside there was movement. A shape detached itself from the darkness and limped to the shuttle doors. It sniffed and then it reared up against the window and Pawl found himself staring into the boss-eyed and tattered face of Punic. The dog licked its nose with its black tongue and then the shuttle lifted. The dog opened its jaws, revealing its teeth, and let out a rusty howl. When it saw that Pawl was departing it became frantic. It tried to jump but its lame leg could not hold it. It chased its tail, snapping and snarling as though after a rat. It backed off with its front paws splayed. Then it ran and jumped. The mechanical dog put everything into that jump and it crashed and broke against the ferroglass of the shuttle window and dropped heavy and tangled back to the ground. One leg kicked as the motor ran down and then it was still.

  That was the last that Pawl saw of Punic. How had the mechanical dog known he was departing for good? Pawl suspected that Wynn had informed the dog. But he was wrong. The dog knew, just as clocks may stop at the moment of a death.

  In the darkness of night, Bennet Island looked attractive. Its shape was revealed by a phosphorescence in the red algae which lit up where the sluggish waves touched the shore. Pawl could see the wake of a late Maw methodically paddling its way to one of the low sandbanks.

  The lights of Bennet Island were going out. Pawl could just make out the rosy light of his Tower. That did not go out.

  “Welcome aboard, Master Pawl,” said the Way Computer. “I’m sorry none of the staff are here to serve you. We were not advised of your departure.”

  “No matter,” said Pawl.

  “Your destination?”

  “The Lumb Gate.”

  “Ah. The Pocket. Both of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll route you through Portal Reclusi and Ampersand. There should be no delays.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your way is clear. Have a pleasant journey, Master Pawl. Farewell.”

  42

  ON SABLE

  “There is no point in wasting good rock and trees,” said Clover Shell as she supervised the unpacking of the “garden” recently returned from the Paxwax Homeworld. “I’ll make a memorial garden of my own. A place for us to swim in. It could be quite pleasant in the slow summer months.”

  And so work began on Clover’s last garden.

  Great pits were gouged out of the dry sands of Sable. Prefabricated piers were poured and carefully lowered into place in accordance with Clover’s plan. On to these piers were attached the girders which formed the skeletons for mountains. Clover worked from pictures and vivantes made of Thalatta. She wanted to achieve the effect of islands and swift tides and clear pebble-water where sea ferns grew and where you could see the brown backs of fish as they browsed. She was sad that there were now no longer any Dapplebacks alive in the universe.

  The trees and rocks were kept in a warehouse underground, where the temperature and humidity could be carefully controlled. In this ideal environment the elvers of the Link Worm writhed and tumbled in the roots of the trees in their voracious quest for food. With their sharp teeth they cut through the hessian bags which wrapped the roots. They chewed through the warehouse floor and out into the sandy soil, where they found silica and minerals to make their bones grow. They found the long cool segmented pipes which carried the water through the wide deserts. Secretions from their skins discoloured and then weakened the stiff hard plastic until finally water seeped out and they were able to bite and burrow their way into the pipes themselves. They spread through the network of conduits under Sable.

  The mechanics and miners on Sable worked quickly. The memorial garden became Clover’s pet project. She wanted it ready as a surprise for Helium on the anniversary of his accession to the Mastership of the Shell-Bogdanovich Conspiracy. On that day the entire aquatic tribe would be present.

  43

  ON THE WORLD OF THE CRAINT

  The brief leap from Ampersand to Elliott’s Pocket should have been accomplished without problems, but Pawl was aware as he swam towards consciousness that all was not well. When he opened his eyes he found himself lying within a vast gleaming amphitheatre. It was a Way Gate. But it was not the Way Gate above Lumb. Everything seemed bigger than the scale needed for humans. The silver platform on which he lay could have accommodated two Ham
mer easily. Odin was beside him and Pawl felt a brief surge of panic emanate from the small creature.

  Pawl stood up and gathered Odin into his arms. Then he walked over to the edge of the platform and sat down. He dropped the six or so feet down to the shiny floor. Wondering, he began the long walk over mirrors to where the exit door blinked at him.

  Beyond the exit there was no polite Way Computer waiting to greet them. There were no particle showers. Pawl stepped into a corridor of clear ferroglass. Through the walls and floor and ceiling he could see the stars shining in blackness. Below him was a dull green planet. Thule? he thought for a moment, and then he knew it could not be Thule. Thule by all accounts was brilliant green. Odin wriggled in his arms and Pawl set him down on his sucker. The creature was agitated.

  “Where are we?” asked Pawl, but the only impressions he could gain from Odin were confused.

  There seemed to be no alternative and so Pawl, with Odin working his way along behind, set out down the wide corridor. He felt as though he was walking in space and vertigo gripped him for a moment as the dull green world climbed up beyond the walls and over his head.

  The corridor followed a gentle curve and at its end was a familiar space lock.

  Waiting behind the walls was an antique Vanburgh. It looked quaint and out of place, like brass knobs on a computer. Pawl recognized the type. He had seen one once in the museum on Lotus-and-Arcadia. It was the kind once used for brief sightseeing excursions down to a hostile world.

  The intention was obvious and he and Odin stepped through the space-lock and into the soft luxurious interior. A voice welcomed them. “Make yourselves comfortable, Pawl Paxwax and Odin. We shall only detain you briefly. A short ceremony. You are now above the world of the Craint.” The door through which they had entered irised shut and with the barest jolt the old Vanburgh drifted into space and began to move towards the dark green world, which had now stabilized above them.