Orion Shall Rise (30 page)

The most urgently wanted is my kinsman Talence Iern Ferlay, a Senior in his Clan and lieutenant colonel in the Air Force. You have probably seen or heard reports of his violent behavior in Skyholm and his seeming escape from it, aided by persons unknown. One
is
reluctant to speak ill of a popular figure, and at present he is only under summons as a material witness. However, it has become increasingly clear that he knew much more than he pretended. If he
is
alive, his testimony will be of the utmost significance in our pursuit of the factions that would undermine us, and withholding it is treasonous. If he is dead, that will at least be a clue for your guardians.

‘By this warrant, I demand the help of all who may have knowledge pointing to his whereabouts. I remind them that their first allegiance is to Ileduciel and its Captain. For information leading authorized agents to Talence Iern Ferlay or his body, a reward of five thousand golden aers is offered.’

The sergeant read on: ‘– automatic amnesty … preferment… physical description as follows –’ while Plik shaped a silent whistle, Mikli stroked his beard and smiled, the sailors and Sesi grew wide-eyed, and Wairoa sat observing.

At the end, the sergeant barked, ‘Is that clear? Any questions?’ None came. He snapped a salute and clicked his heels. The corporal imitated him. ‘In duty to the Captain!’ he exclaimed, ritually although it was a ritual new in the Domain. The two men wheeled smartly about and departed.

Again silence prevailed, until the half-drunk seaman slapped palm down on board, a gunshot noise, and bawled, ‘Zhesu up the mizzenmast! Are they after the Stormrider? Just because he stands against that mother-diddling Gaeanity?’

A nearby man tautened. ‘Watch your language, mate,’ he said. ‘I’m a Gaean, and proud to be.’

‘Why?’ asked a third. ‘No insult meant, I’m not looking for a fight, but what
is
it in Gaeanity, anyhow?’

‘Truth, that’s what’s in it,’ replied the second. ‘Oh, aye, the fine points are too much for me, and belike I’ll never feel Oneness myself, but I know it’s real. And so do a holdful of people brighter than you or me, mate.’

‘It’s the coming thing,’ opined a fourth man. ‘It’s getting harder and harder to deal with Gaeans unless you’re a Gaean yourself, or respectful of the creed, anyhow; and a lot of those deals are fat, very fat.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Ye-e-es, I could use five thousand aers. And I’ve seen Iern myself, strutting around in this same tavern, not long ago.’

‘Hold on!’ shouted the first. ‘Whoever turns the Stormrider in to his enemies will answer to me.’ He lifted a knotty fist. ‘I’m from the Etang. My wife and kids would’ve been dead, save for him. And by every devil underneath your arse, Iern should’ve been Captain, too.
He
wouldn’t take the kind of shit we’re in for. Because mark my words, we’re in for plenty.’

‘Then where’s he gone?’ demanded the second. ‘Why’d he run away? What’s he got to hide?’

Plik, who had sat inhaling and sipping the mustiness of his wine, murmured to Mikli, ‘What he has to hide
is
his hide, I think.’ The pun came across in the Angley he used.

The Northwesterner nodded. ‘Your esteemed Captain
is
being, shall we say, decisive,’ he replied, low-voiced. ‘But then, I gather that Iern’s action forced his hand.’

Plik regarded him closely through the aromatic dimness. The two of them had struck up an acquaintance bordering on friendship. Mikli enjoyed the songs, Plik the accounts of the Northwest Union, each the sardonicism of the other. ‘I wonder what else you’ve gathered,’ the Angleyman said. ‘What is your real business in Uropa? Your vagueness about it has approached the poetic.’

Mikli made his eyebrows repeatedly rise and fall. ‘Have I been vaguer than the Maurai over there? Nobody brags about commercial and quasi-diplomatic negotiations in progress. That fun gets too expensive.’

‘But you seem less upset than you might be about what’s happened, in spite of Jovain and his followers being frankly cool toward your nation.’

‘They’re cooler toward the Maurai.’ Mikli started a cigarette and
used it for a baton in between puffs. ‘Interesting paradox. You’d think Gaeans would favor the Maurai, wouldn’t you? Ecologically minded society, conservative but tolerant, whereas we Norries tend to be infatuated with machinery and to look on Earth less as a house than a warehouse. But in practice, the Maurai claim a stewardship over the planet that the Gaeans want for themselves, and the Maurai attitude
is
too rationalistic and pragmatic as well. Also, of course, making the Domain a world power entails sapping the Federation hegemony, something we in the Union would be delighted to help along. On this account, perhaps we’ll write yet another chapter in the tortuous history of alliances.’

‘I wouldn’t lay money on that.’

‘Oh, not now. Jovain isn’t about to break off relations with either party soon, or anybody else, assuming he could do it. The authority of the Captain has its limits, which can’t be greatly expanded overnight, and besides, he’ll naturally want to keep his options open. Expect simply a shift of emphasis, while he consolidates his position – starting with disposal, one way or another, of that cumbersome Talence Iern Ferlay. Pending our airman’s apprehension, his reputation
is
a convenient target. Have you heard the news about his wife?’

Plik nodded, tossed off his drink, and signaled for more. ‘You needn’t repeat the obvious to me,’ he said, ‘especially since I disagree with your implied prediction.’

‘Oh? Why?’

‘Granted, I am a souse, but a well-read souse, and a bit of a poet to boot. They say that only mathematics can make sense of the physical world. Well, only poetry and music can make sense of the human world, because humans are the least rational of the animals and how else shall we symbolize their madness?’ Plik shook his head. ‘No, my chum whom I am about to cadge a refill from, no, you lay out a neat scheme for Captain Jovain, but I guarantee you it won’t come to pass. It’s neat, you see, logical, self-interested, therefore not human.’

‘Indeed? It was formulated by a human, wasn’t it? What fatal flaw do you detect?’

‘It’s a matter of the soul of the people – for every people has a soul, and if not strictly immortal, it’s damnably hard to kill.’ Plik spread his hands. ‘I can’t explain, unless indirectly through a song.’ Sesi arrived. He threw an arm around her buttocks and rubbed his
cheek across her belly. ‘A fresh charge, Vineleaf, provided this gentleman pays.’

‘I will,’ Mikli said, ‘if you’ll promise me that song.’

‘I can’t,’ Plik answered. ‘Such things come if they choose. When you try to force them, they send idiot changelings instead. But I think that this one has chosen to come. Give me another day or two.’

‘Fair enough.’ Mikli laid a coin on the table. ‘And another calvados for me, dear doxy.’

A buzz sounded. He was alert instantly as a cat. ‘No, hold mine.’ From a pouch at his belt he took a miniaturized radio transceiver, laid it to his ear, listened for a moment, and brought the input disc before his lips for a brief reply in Unglish.

Rising, he said, ‘I’m sorry, I must go. Drink my share of the money in good cheer, Plik, if not exactly good health.’

‘You’ve been waiting for that message these past few days,’ said the Angleyman.

Mikli smiled, his smile that was peculiarly fetching despite the bad teeth. ‘No epochal deduction. Yes, we’ve had a party in Alleman country, searching out trade possibilities, and they’ve just called in that they’ll arrive here shortly. I have to make arrangements. You make your song – and the barmaid, for that matter.’

He left. A few minutes later, Wairoa the lonely did likewise. Emerging on the street, he sauntered idly back and forth a while, until he had the information he needed to send him in a particular direction. Given his distinctive appearance, he was a most implausible spy, provided he kept out of normal earshot and did not seem unduly interested in his surroundings.

Thus he saw a weary, dusty, sweaty group ride into town, a light wagon with a covered load in their midst, a large blond woman at their head. He saw Mikli lead a band of men from the Northwestern ship to meet them and escort them back, politely but absolutely fending off curious passersby. He saw the wagon unhitched and a cargo boom lift it onto the deck. Although at a distance, he saw exultation upon Mikli, who capered about and repeatedly kissed the woman’s hands; it was not her that the little gray man welcomed, but the freight she had brought.

That night, like a drift of mist, Wairoa slipped aboard. The gangplank was drawn in. Besides the regular watch, a detail stood sentry around the cart. None of them noticed the soft thunk of a
rubber-sheathed grapnel he cast from the water where he swam, nor his climbing the rope and creeping over the planks – but then, he took hours, and when he poised motionless, his dappled nudity melted into moonlight and shadow. He did not come nearer the wagon than a hatch coaming he used for concealment. It was not necessary. The sole instrument he carried was a hand-held ultrasonic beam generator; it was small and simple because he, alone on the ship and in the world, could hear and analyze the echoes of its probing.

As cautiously as he proceeded, he did not regain the wharf until the stream had begun to shiver with a wan eastern gray. Thereupon he hastened to the inn where Terai had quarters.

2

Night came again, bringing wind and wrack. The moon, well past the half, had risen when Plik left the building that stood over the Pey-d’Or.

Almost sober, he walked as fast as the murk between far-spaced street lamps allowed, for cold blew about his threadbare coat. Nevertheless the moon, as it seemingly flew in scud, caught a smile on his mouth, and he hummed a tune against the whine of air, scrit and rattle of paper trash; when a tomcat commenced a serenade to some puss behind some pair of shutters, Plik laughed aloud. ‘Good luck, my friend,’ he called. Try going down the chimney.’

His way to the decrepit house where he rented a room for himself and another for his books led across the square beside the Cathedral of Corentin. Only the moon shone on it, fitfully, for at this hour it was empty save for him and a dust devil. The church lowered above like a shadow cast on the sky by a twin-peaked mountain. He passed the southwest corner. His footfalls rang hollow on stone.

‘Plik! Stop.’

He obeyed the voice, turned, and moved in his awkward fashion toward the one who had so quietly hailed him. Iern stepped out of the darkness between wall and tower. Plik broke into a run, reached and embraced him. Iern gave back the hug till the Angleyman groaned, ‘Please. My ribs may be poor things, but they are mine own.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Iern let go and withdrew a pace. ‘I’m just – glad – too weak a word – glad to see you. Been waiting for hours.
Wondered if you’d ever come. Since when has the tavern stayed open this late?’

‘It didn’t. But Sesi was in a mood for me. She usually gets that way when I’m doing a poem. Psychic pheromones?’ Plik’s tone sharpened. ‘Happens you are the subject, old chap. How’ve you fared?’

He squinted through the shifty light. The Clansman wore a pysan’s blouse and baggy trousers. A slouch hat cast obscurity over his countenance, but it could be seen that he was shaven, scrubbed, and well nourished, more than could be said for the balladmaker.

‘In haste,’ Iern related. ‘You may have guessed I left Skyholm by parachute when Jovain took over.’ He nodded a trifle smugly as he glimpsed awe. ‘I knew who I could trust hereabouts, and made my way from place to place, generally at night. Early on, I took the added precaution of swapping my clothes for this outfit.’ His high spirits faded like a moonbeam sundered by a cloud. ‘I dared not linger anywhere. Outsiders are always noticed in the countryside, and the news of them spreads faster than you might suppose. I’d endanger any household where I stayed, and probably be tracked down in short order. Obviously I can’t go to my mother and her husband; they’ll be watched. Kemper seemed my best bet. Much easier to disappear in a city, right? I entered after dark and took my stance here, expecting you’d pass by.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re my hope now, Plik. You know every back alley and thieves’ den Kemper has got, and who in them would be willing to help, for a price or for love.’ Iern doubled his fists and hung his head. ‘I know it’s asking much. We’ve been drinking companions but scarcely blood brothers. This isn’t even your country. But where else can I turn? The respectable folk who might agree are too conspicuous, and have no experience at this sort of thing anyway. That’s why I decided against trying Beynac and its environs. I don’t think you’d run a great risk yourself. All I want
is
for you to introduce me to someone who’ll hide me until – till – I can see what I ought to do next. I’ve been counting on it.’

Plik stood silent a while. The wind ruffled his thin hair. He began to shiver a little. Then, slowly: ‘I don’t believe I’d better.’

The pilot stared at him, mute.

‘Not that I wouldn’t,’ Plik went on. ‘I’m with you more than you can understand, Talence Iern Ferlay. Your cause goes beyond you,
beyond the Domain. There’s a transcendence about it that I can’t prove but do feel, through and through my marrow. Who am I to deny the gods what they are groping after, whatever that is?’

The other man’s eyes widened further. ‘You’re a weird one.’

True. Always have been. Else I’d never make a line of poetry. It’d all be mere verse. I freely admit most of it
is.’
Plik’s grin, crooked as the moon, straightened out into somberness. The trouble is, I don’t know anybody we can rely on.’ He described the announcement of the reward. ‘Five thousand aers
is
a fortune in that class of society – in fact, it’s a way out of that class; and additional help is promised too. If a given person kept faith, somebody else would be bound to find out and turn you in.’

Iern looked away, down a street that was a tunnel of darkness. ‘Jovain wants me worse than I realized,’ he said, word by word. ‘Why? I’m not leading the opposition to him. None exists yet, except in certain hearts.’ He paused. ‘Yes. When I’m dead, soon my wife – Yes, provided she doesn’t learn he had me murdered. He tried it himself, about three years ago.’