by Jack Vance
The Klutes stared at him mulishly.
Maloof looked to Moncrief. “Do you have more records?”
Moncrief opened his brown folder and drew out two notebooks: one black, one green. “In the black notebook I record details of all performances and associated rehearsals, also other pertinent information. In the green notebook I keep a record of all expenses incurred by the troupe. I copy these into my information machine whenever it is convenient, which gives me access to all manner of purchases and payments; for a fact, the machine provides more information than I need. I can learn the time worked by both the Klutes and the girls, and the wages they have earned. In the green book are recorded all expenses pursuant to Mouse-rider operations. The figures include costs of food, shelter and transportation incurred by the Klutes and the girls. I will point out that, despite their contract, the Klutes have paid not one dinket of these expenses, which were not inconsiderable. Why have I allowed this delinquency to continue? Because I knew the total of their earnings, and I saw that these two amounts were at all times reasonably close. Another matter: whenever their earnings exceeded the expenses by any substantial sum, I paid over sufficient money to restore the balance. I have receipts to prove that during the three years I have paid over about nine hundred sols. There may be some small differential now; I have not checked recently.”
Maloof turned to the Klutes. “You have heard Moncrief’s explanation. Do you care to examine his books?”
Siglaf muttered: “To what purpose? We cannot decipher his worm-tracks. We are confident only of our own figures, which represent three years of toil.”
Hunzel said: “Moncrief must make a definite commitment or we leave the ship at Cax. That is our only recourse.”
Moncrief held his arms wide, in a plea for moderation. “How can I pay money which I do not have? You ask the impossible!”
Siglaf uttered a coarse grunt. “We may have come down from the Bleary Hills, but we are not tumblewits. We know that you have a great bundle of sols hidden away among your things. We want our share!”
Hunzel said, “The issues are clear! Either you pay us or the five of us will leave the ship at Cax.”
Moncrief clicked his tongue in desperation. “You cannot take the girls! They belong with the troupe.”
“Nevertheless, they go with us.”
“This is merciless bluster! Cax is a dreary place. You would wander back and forth, cold and hungry. You can’t subject the girls to such misery!”
“Give us credit for forethought!” said Siglaf. “We will set up an enterprise and put the girls to work. With their endowments they will bring in a great deal of money, and we will keep our prices high. It will be a fine novelty for them.”
Moncrief found his voice. “The idea is abominable! We will not allow the girls to leave the ship!”
Hunzel uttered a jeering laugh. “It is something you cannot avoid. We hold the indentures, and the girls are under our control. That is the law, defy it at your peril!”
The girls looked back and forth between Moncrief and the Klutes. Flook asked: “What are you talking about? It seems to concern us; you must tell us what is going on!”
Moncrief spoke in a measured voice. “The Klutes intend to take you off the Glicca at Cax. They will bring men to look at you and take money from whatever man wants to use you in his bed for the night, whether you like him or not. That will be your occupation.”
The girls looked incredulously at the Klutes. “This cannot be true! Would you do that to us?”
“It is a quick way to make money,” said Siglaf. “On Cax we will need money and you will quickly become accustomed to the work; it is better than being hungry and shivering in the rain.”
“I do not want to be either hungry or shivering,” said Flook, “but I don’t think that I care for that sort of work.”
Pook said, “I prefer to stay aboard the Glicca, and work with the Mouse-riders.”
Snook said, “If Siglaf and Hunzel wish to take up that line of business they may do so, but we prefer to stay aboard the Glicca.”
“Your preferences are not important,” snapped Siglaf. “You are indentured, and you must do as we say. That is the law and you have no choice.”
The girls sat silent and crestfallen.
Maloof rose to his feet. “We have reached no compromise; in fact, the parties have arrived at an impasse. I have heard statements from both parties, and in my opinion, Moncrief’s records are convincing. My advice is that the Klutes carry on as before, but keep more careful records. If they would like to leave the ship at Cax, they may do so, but as for taking the girls with them, no tribunal in all the Reach would stretch the power of indenture to include such sordid purposes.” He reflected a moment, then addressed the Klutes. “I would like to look over the certificates of indenture, if I may.”
“You may not!” snapped Hunzel. “They are private papers.”
“Not necessarily,” said Maloof. “The girls obviously have a right to examine them whenever they like.”
Hunzel spoke to the girls. “You do not want to look at these papers now, or so I assume; am I right?”
Flook said, “I am curious; I would like to look at the papers.”
Pook said, “I am curious too. I want to see them.”
Snook said: “And I as well.”
Siglaf’s eyes glinted. “Very well! You shall see them when it is more private.”
Flook asked: “Why not now? There is no one here but Moncrief and Captain Maloof. That is private enough.”
The Klutes sat straight in their chairs, rigid as stone figures. After a moment Hunzel muttered, “It is not a convenient time to disturb our things for foolishness.”
Maloof said, “One time is as good as another. Bring out the papers yourselves, now, or I exercise my authority as master of the Glicca and locate them myself.”
The Klutes looked at each other, then Siglaf heaved herself erect and strode off to the cabin she shared with Hunzel. After a moment she returned with a buff envelope, which she tossed upon the table in front of Maloof, then returned to her seat.
Maloof looked at the three girls. “Shall I open the envelope now?”
The girls nodded dumbly, sensing the possibility of imminent change in their lives.
Maloof opened the envelope and withdrew three sheets of heavy buff paper. He laid them on the table and began to read. After a time he smiled, then he chuckled. Moncrief came to look over his shoulder. He spoke in a strange, emphatic language: “Ton-ton eskoy!”
“Exactly,” said Maloof.
Pook asked anxiously: “What are you reading, and why are you laughing?”
Maloof spoke softly, as if he were reciting a fragment of lyric poetry. “The grotesque sometimes reaches such exalted levels that it becomes almost sublime.” He glanced toward the Klutes; they gave back impersonal stares.
Maloof spoke to the girls. “The papers appear to be official forms, issued by the Enders Valley Foundling Farm for Maundry Vale Province at Frippen on the world Numoy. That is the heading at the top of the page.
“The paper grants custody of Prasilian Sklavo, age 14 —”
“That is me,” said Flook.
“— ‘into the guardianship of Siglaf and Hunzel Podeska of Cawterfel Farm of Tado Township in the Hills of Maundry Vale Province, subject to the following provisions: the guardians undertake to provide comfortable and secure lodgings for the ward, and to serve nutritious food of good quality to the ward’s taste. The guardians must arrange for standard education for the ward, also medical and dental services when necessary, and try to provide a cheerful home atmosphere, along with normal recreational facilities. The ward is to be allowed leisure for appropriate social activity, but at the same time must be protected from unwholesome companions. The ward will not be required to perform labor other than minor household chores of an ordinary nature; the ward may not be asked to perform difficult, arduous or dangerous work.’
“‘Attention! The grant of cust
ody is valid only within the province of Maundry Vale. The ward may not be removed from the province, or otherwise away from the authority of the Institute; if such transgression occurs, the grant of custody is revoked. The premises of the ward’s residence will be regularly inspected by Institute personnel to ensure compliance with Institute regulations.’
“‘In connection with the ward, if the guardians are put to extraordinary expense of legal and justifiable nature, the guardians may place an obligation, or indenture not to exceed one hundred sols against the ward. This documentation will serve as authorization for such indenture so long as the debt is incurred and discharged inside Maundry Vale Province, and the Institute is notified. If ward is removed from the province, any indenture is dissolved.’
“‘Signatures of both parties will be appended below.’”
Maloof looked at the other two sheets. “They are the same, except that one names Lulanie Sklavo and the other Thalasso Sklavo, who I presume are Pook and Snook.”
“That is quite right,” said Pook.
“And we are free of indenture, and we need not obey the Klutes?”
“Precisely so. These papers are worthless.” Maloof looked to the Klutes. “Shall I tear them up?”
The Klutes shrugged, eyes grimly fixed upon the table. “Do as you like.”
Moncrief said hurriedly: “I will insert them into my records, as references, if any are needed.”
Maloof folded the papers, inserted them into the buff envelope and handed the envelope to Moncrief.
Flook asked anxiously: “Are we to leave the ship at Cax?”
“No,” said Maloof. “You owe nothing to the Klutes; they have no control over you. If you wish to become Mouse-riders and work with Moncrief, I think that he will agree to the arrangement.”
“That would suit us very well,” said Snook. “And the Klutes — what of them? Will they leave the ship at Cax, and set up their enterprise?”
Siglaf said off-handedly: “Perhaps we will stay with the Mouse-riders; we have nothing better to do.”
Moncrief looked at the Klutes thoughtfully. “I will take the idea under advisement. I can’t deny that you play a valuable role in many of the routines; still you could be replaced. Well, we shall see.”
After a pause, Maloof spoke. “The dispute which was initiated on Star Home has been resolved. I hope that everyone concerned will assure themselves that resolution was scrupulously just.”
Siglaf and Hunzel, making no comment, rose to their feet and went to their quarters.
Chapter VII
1
The orange star Moulder controlled twenty-two far-flung planets, including a single habitable world to which the locator Abel Blenkinsop had attached his own name. Now, three thousand years later, the world was home to a dour dark-visaged race, the Blenks, who lived in great cities, to work at one of the vast industrial yards which provided goods for half of the worlds in the local sector.
Neither the climate nor the geography of Blenkinsop could be considered congenial. The sky, more often than not, was layered under a thin overcast through which the giant star Moulder showed as a dim orange disk. One season was much like another, though during the nominally winter months rain squalls and bitter winds more frequently ranged along the narrow city streets, driving pedestrians into their bungalows or underground into the subway system. The polar continents to north and south were bitter wastes of glaciers between mountains of black gabbro. Of the remaining six continents, four were sodden marshes threaded by slow waterways. On the other two the Blenks had established their cities, each for reasons lost to memory, directly north of the rolling hills, with the industrial yards still farther to the north.
Across the years the population had created within itself three classes of citizenry, which in the course of time congealed into three distinctive castes. The most prestigious of the three were the relatively few Shimerati, who lived along the ridges of the southern highlands, in palaces behind exotic gardens. The next lowest caste were the Hummers, comprising high-level financiers and mercantilists; professionals legal, medical and technical; and general intelligentsia. Their mansions, situated along the slopes of the highlands, were notably more pretentious than the simple and elegant Shimerati palaces. The third caste encompassed the working classes of Blenkinsop, who lived in solid little bungalows ranged side by side along the interminable streets of the cities.
There was little traffic along the narrow streets: drays and delivery vans, pushcarts operated by sturdy old women, and a few of the high-wheeled motorized rickshaws which served the Blenks as taxis, although for general transportation they rode the subway systems which underlay most of the city streets.
Excerpt from Handbook To The Planets:
BLENKINSOP, MOULDER 17
Despite occasional variation, the typical Blenk is easily defined. He is of middle stature and stocky physique, usually a few pounds overweight, a fact to which he is indifferent, since he has little vanity. His clothes are chosen for durability rather than style; if he chances to look into a mirror, he accepts his image without reaction; this is himself in his singular individuality.
His personal manner is abrupt and brusque, lacking both tact and grace. To his credit, he is loyal, generous, gentle with wife and children and totally brave. At work he is competitive, since his basic goals are advancement in status and rank.
He visits the Trevanian as often as possible, sometimes with his family, sometimes alone, which he prefers. In the warm blur of murmurous darkness the stresses of his daily life ease away; he is at peace with himself and his surroundings. He settles into his seat; the performance begins. He watches passively, for the most part, seldom feeling emotion. At the end of the evening, he reluctantly rises from his seat and slowly leaves the Trevanian, still somewhat lost in a semi-euphoric mood. He rides the subway home where the children are asleep and his wife has a bowl of hot soup waiting for him.
The Trevanian is also patronized by the upper castes. The Shimerati occupy the high balcony where they can be glimpsed by the players onstage should they trouble to look, though they would discover only a few pale oval blurs, always devoid of animation. The Hummers, on the balcony below, are more conspicuous. They wear their most splendid costumes and conduct themselves in accordance with a ritualized etiquette. The ladies have indulged themselves in monumental coiffures sparkling with small luminosities and streaming with colored ribbons. Their behaviour is exaggerated for the occasion; they gesture with fluttering fingers; they simper, pout, gaze toward the ceiling in mock-agony to indicate that their desires have been inexcusably ignored. They beckon and chirrup to acquaintances and toss nosegays to their favorites, meanwhile enjoying the refreshments served by liveried attendants.
The same partiality for extravagance and exaggeration influence Hummer architecture, dictating along with the unusual, the bizarre, the rococo and the fantastic. From hillside foundations, Hummer mansions loft three stories high, each with its complement of cupolas, bays, balconies, private decks and pendant glass globes furnished for the convenience of those who choose to take tea and enjoy petits fours or frozen creams while swinging gently in the dim orange sunlight.
Far different are the palaces of the Shimerati which are low, irregular, deceptively simple, and built to the terms of an understated elegance, using porphyry, moonstone, jet, an occasional column of malachite.
2
From the pilot-house of the Glicca, the star Moulder first appeared as an orange spark on a background of far dim constellations. As the Glicca approached, the spark became an enormous orange disk, with a retinue of twenty-two planets.
Captain Maloof directed the Glicca toward the seventeenth of these worlds, which long ago the locator Abel Minger Blenkinsop had registered, using his own name.
The world Blenkinsop expanded below. Maloof made contact with the space-control office at Cax and received landing instructions. The Glicca dropped through overcast and down toward the early morning face of Cax. Malo
of located the landing field and guided the Glicca to its allocated plot.
As soon as the exit port slid open and the gangway lowered, three uniformed officials left the port offices and hurried across the field to the Glicca. They conferred a moment, then climbed the gangway and entered the saloon. For half an hour they subjected the ship’s company and the ship itself to the standard entry formalities.
As soon as they issued clearances and departed, Myron, in his capacity as supercargo, followed them across the field to the long low terminal building where he expected to find the office of the port director. He climbed a ramp to the cargo dock. A few yards to the left, a corridor opened into the building. A sign with a pointing arrow read:
TO THE PORT DIRECTOR
Myron turned into the corridor and almost at once came upon a tall door, where another sign read:
RICO YAIL
DIRECTOR OF THE PORT
Come at will
The door slid open to Myron’s touch; he entered a large room, sparsely furnished with a large desk, a few chairs and a tall cabinet. The walls displayed a single decoration: a poster printed in tones of black, gray and mulberry, depicting twenty-five types of spaceship currently in operation. At the back of the desk a large man of indeterminate age, languidly handsome, sat at his ease. The desk bore neither documents, ledgers, nor files; the director, if this were he, seemed unoccupied, and rather more casual than Myron had expected. He spoke courteously: “Sir, please be seated and explain how I can help you.”
Myron seated himself in one of the chairs and laid his sheaf of documents upon the desk. “I am Myron Tany, supercargo of the Glicca, which has just arrived. We carry a mixed cargo, including ten bales of skins from the world Madlock, some miscellaneous parcels from Fluter and elsewhere, and from Star Home a consignment of fourteen rugs for Monomarche, which I take to be a local merchandiser.”