Ecce and Old Earth (43 page)

“Are you well enough to receive a visitor?”

"Certainly."

"I'll order up a pot of tea."

“That would be nice."

A few minutes later the two sat at the table in the corner of the room. Olivano said: “Irena is dead. She stabbed herself in the throat. First she tried to kill Myron and Lydia. It was Clara who saved them. She held Irena away with a broom, until the police arrived.” She is a doughty old bird. Irena then rushed into the dining room, lay herself down on the table, and did some bloody work."

In a faint voice Wayness asked: “What of the children?"

“They were both cut and slashed, but not seriously. They are in good condition. They want to see you.”

Wayness looked out the window. “I don't know if that is a good idea or not."

“How so?”

"I have become very fond of them both. If I had a home, I would take them there and keep them. But I have no home at the moment. What will become of them? If it were anything bad, I would take them anyway and leave them with my uncle for a time."

Olivano showed her a crooked smile, “They will be well taken care of. In fact, I too have become fond of them, against every precept of my profession."

“I see."

Olivano leaned back in his chair. “I had a talk with Clara. She is stoic and matter-of-fact, and declares that she knew that tragedy was on the way. She rambled here and there, and it took an hour to learn what I am about to tell you – in something less than an hour, or so I hope.”

“To begin with, Irena was very beautiful when she was young, but unpredictable and restless; also she loved money and resented being born into a poor family. She became a dancer and joined a troupe of harlequins who traveled off-world. At one far place or another – Clara is vague in connection with places – she met Moncurio, and took up with him. In due course they returned to Pombareales, and Professor Solomon sold his fake doubloons, until the swindle was discovered and they fled for their lives.”

“Years passed, and Irena returned to Pombareales with a pair of apparently feeble-minded children. Irena gave out the story that she had been deserted and had known nothing of the swindle, and so was allowed to live more or less in peace. Irena confided to Clara that the children were not her own but must be raised by a rigid routine until they approached adolescence, when certain mental powers would be at the maximum. At this time, according to Irena, the children would assist in the search for buried or hidden jewels. Moncurio and Irena both believed that they would become very wealthy. From time to time Moncurio sent them small sums of money, and kept Irena supplied with the proper medicines for the children and herself."

“Drugs or no drugs, she was an extremely wicked woman.”

“Undeniably so. Well then, that is that. It is a pity that you failed to secure the information you needed, but you are a resourceful person and no doubt will somehow make do.”

“Yes; probably so,” said Wayness coldly. She still had not forgiven Dr. Olivano his delinquencies.

“The children are resting now. You are of course at liberty to see them if you care to do so.” He rose to his feet. “But I could tell them that you came to see them, and then were called away on very important business.”

Wayness nodded bleakly. “It is probably best that way.”

CHAPTER VIII

I.

At Fair Winds Agnes had gone off on holiday to Tidnor Strands. She would be gone two weeks; during this interval her niece Tassy, a bouncy energetic girl of eighteen, would take care of Pirie Tamm and see to his comfort.

Pirie Tamm agreed to the arrangement without enthusiasm. Tassy was comely, plump, with a round cheerful face, dimples, blonde curls, innocent blue eyes and boundless self-confidence. Before leaving, Agnes had assured Pirie Tamm that while Tassy was lively and exuberant, she was conscientious to a fault, and would do her best to please him.

And so it was. Tassy instantly diagnosed in Pirie Tamm the tragic case of a lonely old gentleman, brooding away the final hours of his life. She decided that she must bring at least a modicum of color and adventure to Pirie Tamm's daily routine. While he consumed his breakfast, Tassy stood to the side, ready with fresh marmalade, anxious to proffer hot toast, gently insisting that he eat his nice prunes, which he detested, and recommending neither salt nor pepper for reasons which had been made clear to her in a magazine article, but which now she could not quite recollect. She reported upon the weather and the scandals affecting her favorite celebrities, and described the plot of an enigmatic presentation she had recently enjoyed. She mentioned the latest dance craze, ‘Nervous Knee-caps,' which was performed to a loud shrill music of coughs, squeals and grunts. It was a fascinating exercise, said Tassy, involving hands, knees and pelvis; perhaps Sir Pirie would like to learn the step? Pirie Tamm said that while the prospect was intriguing, his doctor would surely object, and also, where in thunder was the salt and pepper? A man could not eat eggs without salt and pepper!”

"Oh yes you can, and you must, “said Tassy. "It is much healthier for you. That is the new wave of medical thinking!"

Pirie Tamm rolled his eyes to the celling and wondered if Agnes were enjoying herself at Tidnor Strands?

Late one afternoon, as Pirie Tamm sipped his sherry, Tassy notified him that he was wanted on the telephone. He scowled and muttered a curse. “This is not a civilized Hour to be making phone calls and disturbing people at their sherry! Who is it?"

"He gave no name and I forgot to ask. He's a rather handsome young man, though I should say a bit too severe and grim. However he seems basically decent and I decided to let him speak with you.”

Pirie them stared at her with sagging jaw. At last he said: “Your powers of divination are remarkable.”

Tassy nodded complacently. “It has always been one of my great gifts."

Pirie Tamm rose to his feet. “I had better speak to the fellow.”

The face looking from the screen was, as Tassy had declared, personable and somber. Various subtle signs suggested to Pirie Tamm that here was an off-worlder. “I am Pirie Tamm. I don t think I know you.”

“Wayness may have mentioned me. I am Glawen Clattuc.”

“Indeed, indeed!” exclaimed Pirie Tamm. “Where are you?"

"At the Shillaway spaceport. Is Wayness still with you at Fair Winds?"

“Not at the moment, I'm sorry to say. She set off for Bangalore, and I have not heard from her since. You are coming to Fair Winds, I hope?”

“Only if it is convenient for you to have me.” “Of course!” Pirie Tamm gave directions. "I'll expect you in about two hours.”

Glawen arrived at Fair Winds and was made welcome by Pirie Tamm. The two took dinner in the wood-paneled dining room. Pirie Tamm told Glawen what he knew of Wayness' adventures. "Her last call came from Trieste. She told me very little, because she feared that my telephone messages were being intercepted. I was skeptical but nevertheless I called in a team of experts. They found three spy cells and a telephone tap as well. We are convinced that the mechanisms were installed by Julian Bohost. You are acquainted with him?"

"All too well."

“As of now, the house is protected and we may talk freely – though, to be candid, I still feel a constraint.”

“You don t know what, if anything, Wayness has learned?”

“Unfortunately, no. Simonetta preceded us to Gohoon Galleries, and removed the records of sale. Wayness therefore was forced to work from a different perspective. She used the analogy of a ladder, with the Charter and the Grant on a middle rung. Simonetta, knowing who bought the material, was able to search up the ladder. At our end, we found items of Naturalist material, and traced it back down the ladder toward the original buyer.”

"It was wasted effort," said Glawen. “I know the first buyer. His name was Floyd Swaner, and he lived at Idola on the Big Prairie. Simonetta learned his identity, evidently as you have mentioned, at Gohoon Auctions and ever since she has concentrated on Floyd Swaner. She still seems to believe that Charter and Grant are somewhere on the Swaner premises, since she has burgled his property and tried to marry his grandson.”

Pirie Tamm gave a disconsolate grunt. "Where does Julian come into the picture? Is he in league with Simonetta?"

“I suspect that each is trying to use the other, and each keeps dismal plans for all eventualities at the back of this or her mind. I'm afraid that bitter times lie ahead."

“And what are your plans?"

“I'll be leaving directly for Idola, and if the Charter and Grant are not at hand, then I'll start climbing the ladder toward that middle rung."

II.

Glawen flew across the ocean to Old Tran, now known as Division city, at the heart of the continent. A local service flew him two hundred miles west to Largo, on the Sippewissa River. He arrived at twilight and took lodging at an old inn on the banks of the river. He telephoned Pirie Tamm, but learned nothing new; Wayness had not called.

In the morning Glawen rented a flitter and flew north across the Big Prairie, to arrive an hour later at ldola: a small town which, like many other small towns of Earth, had survived in its present identity for thousands of years (7). Glawen landed the flitter and took directions to the Chilke homestead. He was told: "Fly north till you come to Fosco creek, about five miles. Pretty soon Fosco Creek makes a grand loop: swinging first to the east then up and around to the west. Look down; you'll see a barn with a green roof and a house beside some big oak trees. That’s the Chilke place.”

Glawen took the flitter back into the air and flew through the bright morning, over broad fields yellow with ripening grain, and so came to Fosco Creek. He followed the line of willows and alders, and presently came upon the loop. Below he saw the oft-burgled barn and the house where Eustace Chilke had spent his childhood.

Glawen landed the flitter in the yard, and was greeted by a pair of nondescript dogs and the tow-headed children, who were playing in the dirt with toy trucks and fragments of oddly-shaped green stones.

Glawen Jumped to the ground. The oldest child said respectfully: "Good morning, sir."

“Good morning, “said Glawen. “Is your name Chilke?"

“I am Clarence Earl Chilke."

“Fancy that” said Glawen. "I know your Uncle Eustace."

“Really? Where is he now?”

"Far away, across the stars, at a place called Araminta Station. Well, I had better make myself known to the house. Who is home?"

“Nobody but Grandma now. Our mother and father have gone to Largo."

Glawen went to the front door of the house, where a woman of late middle age awaited him. She was strong and stocky, with a round good-humored face in which Glawen could see unmistakable signs of Eustace Chilke himself.

"My name is Glawen Clattuc," he said. "I have a letter from Eustace which introduces me.”

Ma Chilke read the letter aloud:

“ 'Dear Ma:

This will introduce my good friend Glawen Clattuc, who is a fine fellow, unlike most of my friends. We are still looking for some of Grandpa's stuff, which has never been found. He'll ask you some questions, or so I expect, and maybe he'll want to look in the barn, let him do anything he likes. I don't know when I'll be home again, but I'll tell you for sure that I am often homesick, especially when I am threatened by Simonetta Clattuc. If you see her, punch her in the nose, and tell her it was from me. Then run because she is a powerful woman. I'll be home one of these days. Don't let the dogs sleep on my bed. My best love to you and everyone else except Andrew, for reasons he knows best.

Your dutiful son,

Eustace’ ''

Ma Chilke blinked and wiped her eye on her sleeve. "I don't know why I get sentimental. The rascal hasn’t showed his face around here for a long time. ‘Dutiful son’ – there's a good joke.”

"Eustace is a wayward type, no denying that," said Glawen. “Still, at Araminta Station he is considered an important man."

"In that case, he had better stay on and count his blessings, since he's been run out of most places in disgrace. Of course, I'm just talking foolish. Eustace is at heart a good boy, if a mite restless. I guess he has told you about his Grandpa Swaner."

"So he has.”

“That was my father, and he was a rare bird! But sit yourself down, to be sure! Let me pour you some coffee. Can you eat?"

"Not just now, thank you." Glawen seated himself at the kitchen table. Ma Chilke poured coffee and set out a platter of cookies, then pulled up a chair of her own. "Daddy was a wonder what with his purple owls and stuffed animals and all the funny old bangles. We've never quite known what to make of him, nor Eustace either, if the truth be told. It seems, somehow, that all his nonsense skipped a generation and landed in poor Eustace. I don’t know whether I'm sorry or not; there was always so much windy talk of far places and distant worlds and great treasures in wonderful gems. Eustace loved it and couldn't get enough of it. Grandpa was a little cruel sometimes. He promised Eustace a fine space yacht for his twelfth birthday, and poor Eustace was so excited he could talk of nothing else. I warned him not to brag about his space yacht around the school yard, since no one would believe him; and they'd tell him he had a screw loose as well. I don’t, think Eustace cared much one way or the other. His grandpa had given him a big atlas of the Gaean Reach and Eustace studied it for hours on end, deciding where to fly his new space yacht, and how he was going to land on lonely desolate worlds where no one had ever set foot before and put up a sign reading “Eustace Chilke, been here and gone.”

"Grandpa Swaner never bought Eustace the space yacht but he did take him on a voyage somewhere, and that was enough in itself to put the wander-fever into the poor boy, and we've seen precious little of him all these many years." Ma Chilke sighed and slapped her hand down on the table. “So now you've come to rummage through Grandpa Swaner’s things like all the rest. I should charge admission!"

Glawen asked: "Have many others come here to look?”