Araminta Station (60 page)

The clerk gave a sniff of contempt. “I understand your needs at last. Well, I can only do my best.”

Arrayed in their new garments, Glawen and Kirdy went confidently to the Lambervoilles Hotel and discovered no difficulty either with the doorman nor yet the grand officials at the central desk, where they were assigned chambers high in the central tower overlooking the plaza. As they rode up in the elevator, Kirdy announced his intention first to bathe, then go to bed.”

“What?” cried Glawen. “It’s not even noon!”

“I am tired. The rest will do us good.”

“It may be good for you. Not for me.”

Kirdy emitted a whimper of sheer frustration. “So what, then, do you propose?”

“You do as you like. I am going down to the restaurant for lunch.”

“And I am to be left alone in hunger?”

“If you are asleep, you will never notice.”

“Of course I’ll notice, asleep or awake. Bah! As always, you insist on your own way. Do my inclinations mean nothing?”

Glawen laughed a sad tired laugh. “You know better than to ask a question like that! We were sent here to investigate, not to sleep. And you must be as hungry as I am.”

Kirdy muttered: “I warn you, the food is bizarre. They will feed us worms and feathers in a sauce of minced gangaree, with ginger and musk on the side. They put ginger in everything; that’s the fashion on Tassadero.”

“We’ll have to be on our guard.”

The two descended to the restaurant. Signs and placards urged important new dishes upon them, but Glawen finally ordered from a bill of fare labeled “Traditional and Dietetic Cooking for the Elderly and the Diseased,” which yielded them food more or less congenial to their tastes.

During the meal Kirdy again proposed that they return to their rooms for a period of total relaxation. Glawen again urged him to do as he liked. “I have other plans in mind.”

“No doubt connected with this rather pointless investigation?”

“I hardly consider it pointless.”

“What do you expect to learn? The tourist agencies all sing the same song. They’ll tell you ruddy chuck-all.”

“We’ll never be sure if we don’t ask.”

“I’ve had my fill of tourist agencies,” grumbled Kirdy. “They sell you doughnuts and charge double for the hole.”

In any event, we can interview the Zubenites who went out to Thurben Island, since we know their names.”

“They will reveal nothing. Why should they?”

“Perhaps because we ask them nicely.”

“Ha-ho! A forlorn hope, if ever I heard one! On this world, as on other worlds, folk exert themselves only to be vexatious.” Kirdy shook his head in bitter despair. “Why is it thus? There are never answers to my questions. Why, indeed, am I alive?”

“Here, at least, the answer is self-evident,” said Glawen. “You are alive because you are not dead.”

Kirdy darted Glawen a suspicious glance. “Your remark is more subtle than perhaps you intended it to be. For a fact I cannot conceive of any other condition, which may well be a compelling argument in favor of immortality.”

“Possibly so,” said Glawen. “I, personally, find it easy to conceive of this other condition. I can readily imagine myself alive and you dead. Does this weaken your argument in favor of immortality?”

“You have missed the whole point,” said Kirdy. “One thing is sure, at least: the Zubenites will tell you nothing if they think it will get them in trouble. Incidentally - speaking of trouble – have you noticed the two men sitting at the table yonder?”

Glawen glanced in the direction Kirdy had indicated. “I notice them now.”

“I suspect that they are police detectives, and they are watching us. I don’t like that sort of thing. It makes me uneasy.”

“You must have a bad conscience,” said Glawen.

Kirdy’s face became even pinker than usual. For an instant he turned the full glare of his china-blue eyes on Glawen, then swung half-around in his chair and gazed moodily off across the room.

“That was just a joke,” said Glawen. “But you failed to laugh.”

“It wasn’t funny.” Kirdy continued to brood.

For a fact, thought Glawen, he doesn’t like me very much. He sighed. “The sooner we are home the better.”

Kirdy made no reply. Glawen looked again at the two men who might or might not be police detectives. They sat at an inconspicuous table by the wall, conversing in low tones. Both were middle-aged and otherwise much alike: stocky, dark-haired, sallow, heavy of jowl, with clever darting eyes. They wore garments which the Nouveau Cri clerk might have defined as “all-purpose semiformal business wear, at a categorical level of the middle professional service class.”

“I believe that you are right,” said Glawen. “They look like police officers to me. Well, it’s nothing to us.”

“But it’s us they are watching!”

“Let them watch. We have nothing to hide.”

“Fexelburg police are almost hysterical in their suspicions. Unless you’re a tourist spending lots of money, they wonder about you. Floreste deals with them carefully. It might be wise to request their cooperation.”

“You may well be right.”

As they left the dining room, the two men arose, followed them into the lobby and approached. One of the two spoke: “Captain Clattuc? Sergeant Wook?”

“Correct, sir.”

“We are Inspectors Barch and Tanaquil of the Fexelburg police. May we have a few words with you?”

Whenever you like.”

“Now is convenient for us. This way, if you please.”

The four seated themselves in a quiet corner of the lobby.

Glawen said: “I hope that we have broken none of your laws? We were absolutely assured that our garments were proper for lunching at the Lambervoilles.”

“Sufficiently so,” said Barch. “In actuality, we are approaching you from motives of sheer curiosity. What might the police of Cadwal want on Tassadero? We can find no easy explanation; perhaps you will take us into your confidence.”

“That has been our intention,” said Glawen. “But, as you must know, we have only just arrived, and there seemed no need for haste.”

“Of course not,” said Barch. “Tanaquil and I simply happened to be at loose ends and thought to take advantage of the occasion. I take it you are here on official business?”

Glawen nodded. “It might be simple, or it might be difficult, depending upon circumstances. I hope that we can in count upon your cooperation, if necessary?”

“I would certainly expect so, to whatever degree we find possible. What, precisely, is the nature of your business?”

“We are investigating a series of criminal entertainments which were offered to off-world groups on one of our ocean islands.

These groups were recruited at various worlds along the Wisp, including Tassadero, which is why we are here.”

“Most unusual! Tanaquil, will you ever cease to be amazed by the weird convolutions of criminal behaviors?”

“Never, and I assure you of this!”

Barch turned back to Glawen. “And who were the participants in this ugly business from Tassadero?”

“This is where I must ask your special discretion. Our main purpose is to identify the organizer of the scheme, and so we must deal carefully with the participants, at least until we find out what they know.”

“So much is clear. I think that we can guarantee full and total discretion. What do you say, Tanaquil?”

“I am of the same opinion.”

“In that case I will speak freely,” said Glawen. “We learned that six Zubenites from Lutwiler country went to Thurben Island and there were involved in absolutely remarkable activities.”

Barch gave an incredulous laugh. “Zubenites? That is astonishing indeed! Are you sure of your facts?”

“Quite sure.”

“Extraordinary! Zubenites are not prone to erotic excess, and that is an understatement! Tanaquil, have you ever heard the like?”

“I am in a state of shock! What will they do next?”

Barch said by way of explanation: “We are fairly well acquainted with the Zubenites, who come in from Lutwiler Country to do their marketing. They are considered stolid folk, the next thing to torpid; hence our perplexity.”

“Nevertheless, Zubenites were involved. They might have been subjected to a form of coercion, and for this reason, I hope that they will agree to tell us what we want to know.”

“Which is?”

“Who sold them the tickets? How were the tickets delivered? Who took their money? Some member or members of Ogmo Enterprises were Cadwal residents; who might these persons be? In short, we want to find out what went on.”

“It seems straightforward enough. Am I correct in this, Tanaquil?”

“I think so. Still: a cautionary point! I doubt if the Zubenites will choose to be informative, if for no other reason than sheer inertia.”

“That would be my own guess,” said Barch. “What, then, are your options? They are sadly limited. You cannot threaten criminal proceedings; no such law exists in Lutwiler Country.”

“What of your own authority? Here is where your cooperation might be indispensable.”

Barch and Tanaquil both laughed. “In Lutwiler Country? Or in Varmoose Country? In any of the Far Countries?” Barch jerked his thumb toward a nearby table. “See that old lady in the fancy green hat?”

“I see her very well.”

“She has exactly the same authority in Lutwiler Country as I. In short, none. We keep the peace in Fexel Country, but no farther; in the absence of both means and inclination, we refuse to spread ourselves thin.”

Tanaquil held up his finger. “We make one exception! Tourists base themselves at Fexelburg for their explorations and treasure-hunting; we regard them as our responsibility. If nomads molest a tourist caravan, we punish the nomads severely. But that is hardly police work, and it happens rarely nowadays.”

“Quite so,” said Barch. “The tourist trade is important to us, and the nomads ingest this knowledge with their mother’s milk.”

“What of the Zubenites? Surely they live by some sort of law.”

Barch smilingly shook his head. “They live in the shadow of Pogan’s Point, and the Monomantic seminary exerts all necessary authority. Away from Pogan’s Point and across the steppes the only justice is what happens when you get caught. Those are the rules of life on Tassadero.”

“In bad situations I suppose that the IPCC will impose order,” suggested Glawen. “After all, Gaean law operates everywhere, including Lutwiler country. We are IPCC affiliates ourselves, incidentally.”

Barch shrugged. “The IPCC at Fexelburg is unpredictable. Commander Plock is sometimes a bit hard to deal with. He is, let us say, set in his ways.”

Tanaquil spoke. “A certain person, whom I will not identify, has even used the word ‘arrogant’ in this connection.”

“I’m sorry to hear this,” said Glawen. “Since we are IPCC agents, we must pay the office a courtesy call, and we will certainly keep your remarks in mind.”

Barch said thoughtfully: “There is another matter, rather delicate, upon which I must take advice. Please excuse me a moment, while I telephone my superiors.”

Barch crossed the lobby to a telephone.

Kirdy asked Tanaquil: “What is suddenly so delicate?”

Tanaquil rubbed his chin. “The Zubenites can be surly when they are ruffled. The folk at the Monomantic seminary are downright strange. We take pains never to cause annoyance, since we don’t want them becoming obnoxious and taking revenge on the tourists.”

“How would they do that?” asked Glawen.

“There are ways: petty annoyances for the most part. For instance, dozens of tourist caravans search Lutwiler Country for Zonk’s Tomb, or pass through on the way to the Far Countries.

The Zubenites need only put a gate across the road and charge toll, or require that each tourist must climb up Pogan’s Point to the seminary to have entry documents signed, and return the next day for countersignature, at a fee of twenty sols. Or they might insist that the tourists learn Monomantic Syntoraxis, or any of a dozen other nuisances, and soon the tourist trade, at least through Pogan’s Point, would be a thing of the past.”

Inspector Barch returned. “My superiors agree that we should offer every assistance. They hope that you will keep us informed of your activities and also of your eventual findings. They advise that you use the utmost tact in your dealings with the Zubenites. The Monomantic seminary is the philosophic center of the Zubenites; you might say that it is the seat of government, such as it is. So far as we are concerned, we are out of the picture. We interfere with the Zubenites as little as possible, for very good reasons.”

“So, if they refuse to answer my questions, I cannot threaten them with reprisals from the Fexelburg police?”

“It would be foolish, inadvisable, useless and a waste of breath.”

“That seems definite enough.”

Barch and Tanaquil rose to their feet. Barch said: “It has been a pleasure talking with you. We wish you the best of luck in your inquiries.”

“Those are also my sentiments,” said Tanaquil.

The police inspectors departed. Glawen watched them cross the lobby. “They have made themselves clear,” he told Kirdy. “They really don’t want us meddling with the Zubenites, but they can’t stop us, so they’ll cooperate. That means they want to know what we are doing at all times.”

“I thought that they seemed decent enough,” said Kirdy.

“That is my impression too,” said Glawen. He rose to his feet.

Kirdy asked in sudden suspicion: “Where are you going?”

“Just over to the desk.”

“What for? Is something wrong? We’ve just arrived; are you complaining already?”

“I am not complaining. I want to locate the IPCC office.”

Kirdy groaned and uttered a vulgar oath, to which Glawen paid no heed. He went to the desk and a moment later returned. “It’s just five minutes’ walk around the plaza. I’m curious to look in on this ‘doctrinaire, arrogant’ group.”

“Can’t you ever relax?” demanded Kirdy. “Not even for an hour? It’s time for a proper nap; we’ve exerted ourselves enough for one day.”

“I’m not tired.”

Kirdy spoke with finality: “I must rest for a bit and I am going to my room.”

“Pleasant dreams,” said Glawen.

Kirdy stalked off across the lobby, but Glawen noticed that he went only a few steps, then flung himself angrily down into a chair.