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Ecce and Old Earth Page 10
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Glawen asked: “And the native beasts? What happens to them?”
Kathcar spoke airily. “The wild animals? Dame Clytie is not over-interested in the problem. They must learn to live with the new order. Only the truly nasty and repellent creatures will be driven away or exterminated.”
“And your views are different?”
“Very much so. I call for a structured centrality, with authority to formulate policy and establish regulations.”
“So then, you and Dame Clytie composed your differences and went together to Yipton?”
Kathcar draw back his lips in a sardonic grimace, half-smile, half-sneer. “The junket to Yipton was not my idea. I don’t know for certain where the idea originated, but I suspect that Julian, who is always in favor of intrigue, the more devious the better, evolved the notion. I know that he consulted a certain Namour during one of his visits to Araminta Station, and then possibly broached the idea to Dame Clytie. Whatever the case, the plans were made. When I learned how the wind was blowing, I insisted upon joining the deputation, to ensure that my point of view be made known.”
“We flew to Yipton. I knew nothing of Simonetta or her status; I thought that we would be conferring with Titus Pompo, and so I was astounded when we went into conference with Simonetta. Neither Julian nor Dame Clytie showed the same surprise, and I am sure that Namour briefed them in advance as to what to expect. I was naturally offended by what I considered a breach of diplomatic courtesy, and I resolved to make my displeasure clear at the first opportunity.”
“In any event, Namour took us into an office with a floor of woven bamboo mat, walls of split bamboo, and a ceiling of intricately carved wood, evidently smuggled in from the mainland. We waited fifteen minutes before Simonetta chose to show herself — a delinquency which irritated Dame Clytie, so I could see.”
“Simonetta at last condescended to appear, and I was amazed, as I have already indicated. Instead of the earnest, just and dignified Titus Pompo of my expectations, here was a woman as massive and strong as Dame Clytie herself. Simonetta, I must say, is a strange looking woman. She wears her hair in a massive pile atop her head, like a coil of old rope. Her skin is like white wax. Her eyes glitter like amber beads. There is a sense of wildness and unpredictability about her that is most disturbing. She is clearly a woman of a hundred passions, which she disciplines as much as needful, but no more. Her voice is somewhat harsh and peremptory, but she can pitch it almost to a musical softness when she chooses. She seems to be guided by an instinctive or subconscious shrewdness, rather than formal intelligence; like that of Dame Clytie. On this occasion neither woman wasted any affability on the other, and there was only a cursory attempt at simple and ordinary courtesy. But no matter: we had not come to Yipton for the exchange of pleasantries but, rather, to discover how best to coordinate our efforts toward the common goal.”
“I regarded myself as the senior member of the delegation, and started to speak, that I might express the philosophy of the LPF as I saw it, in an orderly, coherent and definite manner, so that Simonetta should be under no illusions as to our basic point of view. Dame Clytie, however, conducted herself with absolutely vulgar and unforgivable rudeness, interrupting my remarks and shouting me down when I remonstrated and pointed out that I spoke with the authoritative voice of the LPF. Dame Clytie, using her most bluff and boisterous manner, pretended to regard Simonetta as a comrade-in-arms, and a stout paladin in the cause of virtue and truth. Once again I tried to bring the discussion back to its proper channels, but Simonetta instructed me to hold my tongue, which I considered absolutely egregious and insulting conduct. Dame Clytie, rather than taking note of the insult, made offensive remarks of her own, something like: ‘Excellent! If Kathcar will stop his braying for a few moments, we will get on with our business.’ Something on that order.
“In any event Dame Clytie began to speak. Simonetta listened for a few moments, then once more became impatient. She said: ‘I will be quite candid! I have been done grievous wrongs by the folk of Araminta Station, and the whole thrust of my life is retribution. I intend to sweep down on Deucas like an angel of wrath, and I shall be Mistress of Araminta Station. My revenge will be so sweet as to transcend all other pleasures I have known! All shall know the sting of my fury!’
“Dame Clytie found it necessary to chide her, though she tried to be judicious. ‘This is not quite the emphasis or the thrust of the LPF. We intend to break the tyranny of the Charter, and allow the human spirit scope to flourish and grow!’
‘‘‘So it may be,’ said Simonetta. ‘Still, eventually the Charter will be replaced by the Monomantic Credence, which will guide the future of Cadwal.’
“Dame Clytie said: ‘I know nothing about this Credence, and I would deplore the introduction of some freakish cult.’
“‘This is an unkind description,’ said Simonetta. ‘The Monomantic Credence is the Ultimate Pansophy: the Way of Existence and the Vital Perfection!’
“At this, Dame Clytie became a trifle bleak. Julian leapt into the breach. He discoursed upon the new Cadwal and stated that, where true democracy was the watchword, every person’s beliefs must be and should be sacred. He declared that he, personally, would defend such a precept to the death, or some such blather. Simonetta tapped her fingers on the table and barely listened. I saw the way the wind was blowing, directly toward recriminations and bad feelings. I decided to set the matters straight, once and for all. I pointed out that absolute democracy - sometimes known as ‘nihilism’ - is equivalent to utter confusion. Further, everyone knew that rule by committee was only slightly less chaotic than rule by a mob. For true progress, authority must be exercised by a single resolute man of unquestioned quality and judgment. I announced that, while I had no overweening lust for power, the exigencies of the situation demanded that I take on this great responsibility, with all its challenges and trials. I felt that at this very moment we should agree to this program and proceed with full dedication in this direction.
“Simonetta sat staring at me. In a pleasant voice she asked if I were definitely convinced that the person in authority should be a man.
“I answered affirmatively. This, I said, was the lesson of history. Women were valuable adjuncts to society, with unique functions and irreplaceable instinctive skills. In men however resided that peculiar quality composed of wisdom, strength, persistence and charisma necessary for leadership.
“Simonetta asked: ‘And what function do you plan for Dame Clytie in your new kingdom?’
“I saw that perhaps I had spoken too expansively, and had stated my case a trifle too earnestly. I replied that ‘kingdom’ was perhaps not quite the correct terminology, and that certainly I had full and great respect for both the ladies on hand. Dame Clytie might well be in charge of arts and crafts and Simonetta perhaps might do well as Minister of Education - both highly important posts.”
Chilke laughed. “Kathcar, you are a marvel.”
“I stated what I considered to be no more than universally accepted truisms.”
“So you did,” said Chilke. “But that made the cheese no less binding.”
“In retrospect, I see that I exceeded caution. I had assumed both Dame Clytie and Simonetta to be rational and realistic persons, aware of the fundamental facts of history. I was wrong.”
“Quite so,” said Chilke. “What happened next?”
“Julian said that he thought that all of us had expressed our views, and now we must reconcile what seemed to be relatively minor differences. Our mutual goal was to throw off the dead weight of the Charter and it was not an easy task. Simonetta seemed to agree and suggested that we adjourn for lunch. We went out on a terrace overlooking the lagoon, and here we were served a lunch of mussels, fish paste, a bread of seaweed flour and kelp, along with wine from Araminta Station. Apparently I drank more wine than usual, or perhaps the wine was drugged. In any event, I became drowsy and fell asleep.
“I awoke to find myself in a flyer. I assumed that I
was returning to Stroma, though neither Dame Clytie nor Julian was on hand. It seemed a very long flight, which ended, to my utter astonishment, on Shattorak. I protested with great indignation; nevertheless, I was taken to a doghole and immured. Two days passed. I was told I could either become station cook or remain in the doghole, and I became cook. That is essentially all there is to tell.”
“Where are the flyers kept?”
Kathcar grimaced. “These are not my secrets. I am reluctant to discuss such matters.”
Scharde spoke in a measured voice. “You are a reasonable man, are you not?”
“Of course! Have I not made this clear?”
“There will be an attack on Shattorak by such forces as we can muster at the station. If you have failed to provide us exact and detailed information, and any of our personnel is killed, you will be deemed guilty of murder by default, and you will be executed.”
“That is not just!” cried Kathcar.
“Call it whatever you like. At Bureau B we interpret justice as loyalty to the terms of the Charter.”
“But I am LPF and a progressive! I consider the Charter an archaic piece of rubbish!”
“We will consider you not only a Peefer but also a renegade and a murderer and execute you with no remorse whatever.”
“Bah,” muttered Kathcar. “It makes little difference one way or the other. The flyers are in an underground hangar on the eastern slope of Shattorak, where a lava cave was enlarged.”
“How are they guarded?”
“I cannot tell you, since I never ventured in that direction, nor do I know how many flyers are in the hangar.”
“How much staff is on hand?”
“A dozen or so.”
“All Yips?”
“No. The best mechanics are off-world folk. I don’t know much about them.”
“What about Titus Pompo’s space yacht? How often does that appear?”
“Twice during my time.”
“Have you seen Namour since you went with Dame Clytie to Yipton?”
“No.”
“And Barduys, what is his function?”
Kathcar responded haughtily: “As I stated, I know nothing of this person.”
“He seems to be a friend of Dame Clytie.”
“So it may be.”
“Hmf,” said Glawen. “Dame Clytie may not be quite so democratic as she would like us to believe.”
Kathcar was puzzled. “Why do you say that?”
“In this new society of equals, Dame Clytie no doubt intends to be more equal than anyone else.”
“I do not altogether grasp your meaning,” said Kathcar with dignity. “Still, I suspect that you derogate the LPF.”
“Possibly so,” said Glawen.
* * *
Chapter II, Part 2
The Skyrie approached Araminta Station from the southwest, flying very low to avoid observation, and landed in a wooded area south of the River Wan.
Shortly after sunset Glawen approached Riverview House, and knocked at the front door. He was admitted into the reception hall by a maid-servant, who announced him to Egon Tamm. “You have returned in good health! How went your mission?” Egon Tamm’s welcome was almost effusive.
Glawen glanced toward the maid, who was still in the room. Egon Tamm said: “Come, we will talk in my office. Will you take some refreshment?”
“I would be happy for a cup of strong tea.”
Egon Tamm instructed the maid and took Glawen into his office. “So, were you successful?”
“Yes. I rescued not only Scharde, but also Chilke and another prisoner, a Naturalist named Kathcar. They are waiting outside in the dark. I did not want to bring them in, and show them to your guests.”
“They left yesterday, I am happy to say.”
“I would like you to notify Bodwyn Wook and ask him to come here to Riverview House; otherwise he will be offended and sarcastic when he sees me.”
Egon Tamm spoke into his telephone and was answered by Bodwyn Wook. “Glawen is here,” said Egon Tamm. “Everything seems to have gone well, but he asks that you come to Riverview House to hear his report.”
“I will be there at once.”
The maid entered with tea and biscuits. She placed the tray on the table. “Will there be anything more, sir?”
“Nothing; you may retire for the evening.”
The maid departed. Glawen looked after her, “She may be innocent and honest, or she might be one of Smonny’s spies. Apparently they are everywhere. It is important that Smonny is not notified that Scharde, Chilke and Kathcar have escaped Shattorak.”
“Surely she knows they are gone by now!”
“But she cannot be sure that they simply did not try their luck in the jungle, or perhaps are hiding, hoping to seize one of the flyers.”
“You may bring the three around the side of the house into the door at the end of the hall. I will make sure that Esme is not where she can observe them.”
Bodwyn Wook arrived and was admitted by Egon Tamm, who conducted him to the office. He looked from face to face. “Scharde! I am happy to see you alive, though I must say that you look a bit peaked. Chilke, you as well. And who is this gentleman?”
“He is a Peefer from Stroma,” said Glawen. “His name is Rufo Kathcar, and he represents a faction somewhat at odds to Dame Clytie.”
“Interesting, indeed! Well then: let us hear the news.”
Glawen spoke for half an hour. Bodwyn Wook turned to Scharde. “What, in your opinion, should we do next?”
“I believe that we should strike as quickly as possible. If Smonny receives a hint that her secret is known, it will be too late. In my opinion, we cannot act soon enough.”
“Is Shattorak defended?”
Glawen turned to Kathcar, “What can you tell us?”
Kathcar tried to control the peevishness in his voice. “You put me in a most uncomfortable position. Even though I was treated badly by Simonetta, I cannot claim that my interests run parallel to yours. At the basis I intend to throw off the tyranny of the Charter, while you intend to prolong it as best you can.”
“It is true that we hope to maintain the Conservancy, villains that we are,” said Bodwyn Wook. “Well, I can see a single solution which is fair to all parties. You need tell us nothing, and we will return you to Shattorak and leave you as we found you. Chilke, how many flyers can we put into the air?”
“Four new flyers, three trainers, two carry-alls, and the Skyrie. Our problem is espionage. Smonny will hear of the first move we make and be ready for us. Which reminds me, I want to seek out Benjamie this very instant, and there will be one spy the less to concern us.”
Bodwyn Wook spoke to Egon Tamm: “Kathcar must also be regarded as an adversary, and he must be confined until we take him back to Ecce.”
“I will lock him in the shed,” said Egon Tamm. “He will be secure. Come, Kathcar this is the necessity which circumstances have thrust upon us.”
“No!” cried Kathcar desperately. “I do not wish to be locked up and I certainly do not want to return to Shattorak. I will tell you what I know.”
“As you wish,” said Bodwyn Wook. “Where are the Shattorak defenses?”
“There are a pair of guns at either side of the communications shed. There are two more to either side of the hangar. If you approach the summit by the route Glawen took, flying up the river, then up the slope at very low altitude, you should escape detection and be able to destroy the communications shed with no risk of damage from the guns. That is the best I can do for you, since I know no more.”
“Very good,” sold Bodwyn Wook. “We will not return you to Shattorak, but you must be confined until our return, for obvious reasons.”
Kathcar expostulated further but to no avail; Egon Tamm and Glawen led him away and locked him into a storage shed to the side of Riverview House.
Bodwyn Wook, meanwhile, dispatched a squad of Bureau B personnel to take Benjamie into custody, but, to Chilke’s disappointm
ent, Benjamie could not be found and, indeed, had departed Araminta Station aboard the spaceship Dioscamedes Translux, bound down the Wisp toward the junction city Watertown, on Andromeda 6011 IV. “Alas”, said Chilke. “Benjamie has the danger tendrils of a Tancred firefox. I doubt if we shall lay eyes on Benjamie again.”
* * *
Chapter II, Part 3
During the darkest, quietest hours between midnight and dawn, four patrol flyers departed Araminta Station, armed with such weaponry as the armory was able to provide. At high speed they darted around the curve of the world; across Deucas, over the Western Ocean, then slanted down so as to approach Ecce at low altitude. Up the Vertes River they flew, barely skimming the surface of the water, the better to evade whatever detectors might be operating on the summit of Mount Shattorak.
Where Glawen had landed the Skyrie, the raiding party veered away from the river to fly low over the swamp and up the slope of the volcano, and so arrived at the summit.
Twenty minutes later the operation was over. The Communications shed had been destroyed, along with a gun emplacement. The hanger sheltered seven flyers, including the two most recently captured from Araminta Station. The base personnel offered no resistance; twelve captives were taken: nine Yips of the elite police corps - ‘Oomps’, attired in black uniforms. The remaining three were hired technicians from off-world. How was it that they had been surprised and captured so easily? None of the Yips would supply an answer, but one of the off-world technicians reported that the escape of Scharde and Chilke, along with the disappearance of Kathcar, had aroused neither suspicion, alarm nor any attempt at increased vigilance; the personnel felt secure in their isolation, and the perils of escape were considered insurmountable. The raid, so he remarked, had preceded a Yip occupation of the Marmion Foreshore by only a week or two, and orders had arrived to arm all the flyers with such weapons as were at hand. In short, the raid could not have occurred at a more opportune time.