agreed
that if you display a sense of responsibility, relinquish the
guild-mastership, make a sober, sincere profession of orthodoxy, we
will remit your delinquencies and hold them no longer, to your
discredit.”
“This is
magnanimity indeed,” sneered Sklar Hast.
“What sort of
blubbering water-sheep do you take me for?”
Ixon Myrex nodded
curtly. “We feared that this might be your response. Now
violence is as abhorrent to us as it is to every man and woman of the
floats, and therefore we make no threats. Nevertheless we require
from you a solemn undertaking never again to engage in unorthodox
activities, or those which challenge the authority of King Kragen.”
“And if I
don’t?”
“Then we will
ask that you depart Tranque Float.”
“And where do
you suggest that I go?”
Semm Voiderveg
could contain his passion no longer. He pointed a white quivering
finger to the sea. “We suggest that you and others of your ilk
depart! There are other floats; they are mentioned in the Analects;
the Firsts saw them when the Ship of Space came down. Go forth then
to some other float and allow us who wish peace to live as we always
have.”
Sklar Hast’s lip
curled. “What of King Kragen? It seems that you contravene the
Covenant, suggesting that I trespass upon his ocean. What of that?”
“The trespass
then becomes an issue between you and King Kragen! The affair is none
of mine.”
“And if King
Kragen follows us to our new domicile, deserting the Home Floats?
What would the intercessors do then?”
Semm Voiderveg
blinked. The concept clearly took him by surprise. “If such an
exigency arises, be assured that we will know how to deal with it.”
Sklar Hast prepared
to return to his work. “I will not resign my rightful
guild-mastership; I promise no fidelity to you or King Kragen; I will
not set forth across the ocean.”
Semm Voiderveg
started to speak; but Ixon Myrex held up his hand. “What then do
you plan?” he asked cannily.
Sklar Hast stared
at him a long moment, with conflicting impulses struggling inside his
brain. All prudence and sagacity urged him to dissemble, to feign
orthodoxy or at least disinterest, while he arrived at some method to
kill King Kragen. But what if he failed in the attempt? Then once
again Tranque Float would be devastated and people who wanted nothing
to do with the project would be injured, even killed. It seemed only
just that he announce his intentions, in order to give those who
disapproved a chance to remove themselves. But by so warning Ixon
Myrex and Semm Voiderveg he guaranteed himself of their vigilance,
their antagonism, and possibly their interference. It was simple
common sense and good generalship to dissemble, to calm Ixon Myrex
and Semm Voiderveg and blunt their suspicions. What if a few innocent
persons did get killed? No battles were won without casualties. And
Sklar Hast tried to twist his tongue to speak evasion and
reassurance, but he could not do it; he was physically unable to put
on the necessary mask, and felt a great anger for his own weakness.
“If I were
you,” he said roughly, “I’d depart Tranque Float and stay
away. Because there might well be further unorthodoxy, as you call
it.”
“Exactly in
what degree?” asked Ixon Myrex crisply.
“I’ve made no
plans. I wouldn’t tell you in any event. But now, against my better
judgment, I’ve warned you.”
Semm Voiderveg once
more began to speak, but once more Ixon Myrex silenced him. “I
see that our attempt at a harmonious solution is in vain. You warned
me; I will warn you. Any attempt to offend King Kragen, any attempt
upon his dignity will be regarded as a capital crime. That is my
judgment as Arbiter of Tranque Float! You have challenged authority
and the majesty of tradition. Beware that your impudence does not
bring you to grief!”
One of the others
spoke: Gian Recargo, the Bezzler Elder, a man of great gentility,
rectitude, and presence. “Sklar Hast, are you aware of
that if you display a sense of responsibility, relinquish the
guild-mastership, make a sober, sincere profession of orthodoxy, we
will remit your delinquencies and hold them no longer, to your
discredit.”
“This is
magnanimity indeed,” sneered Sklar Hast.
“What sort of
blubbering water-sheep do you take me for?”
Ixon Myrex nodded
curtly. “We feared that this might be your response. Now
violence is as abhorrent to us as it is to every man and woman of the
floats, and therefore we make no threats. Nevertheless we require
from you a solemn undertaking never again to engage in unorthodox
activities, or those which challenge the authority of King Kragen.”
“And if I
don’t?”
“Then we will
ask that you depart Tranque Float.”
“And where do
you suggest that I go?”
Semm Voiderveg
could contain his passion no longer. He pointed a white quivering
finger to the sea. “We suggest that you and others of your ilk
depart! There are other floats; they are mentioned in the Analects;
the Firsts saw them when the Ship of Space came down. Go forth then
to some other float and allow us who wish peace to live as we always
have.”
Sklar Hast’s lip
curled. “What of King Kragen? It seems that you contravene the
Covenant, suggesting that I trespass upon his ocean. What of that?”
“The trespass
then becomes an issue between you and King Kragen! The affair is none
of mine.”
“And if King
Kragen follows us to our new domicile, deserting the Home Floats?
What would the intercessors do then?”
Semm Voiderveg
blinked. The concept clearly took him by surprise. “If such an
exigency arises, be assured that we will know how to deal with it.”
Sklar Hast prepared
to return to his work. “I will not resign my rightful
guild-mastership; I promise no fidelity to you or King Kragen; I will
not set forth across the ocean.”
Semm Voiderveg
started to speak; but Ixon Myrex held up his hand. “What then do
you plan?” he asked cannily.
Sklar Hast stared
at him a long moment, with conflicting impulses struggling inside his
brain. All prudence and sagacity urged him to dissemble, to feign
orthodoxy or at least disinterest, while he arrived at some method to
kill King Kragen. But what if he failed in the attempt? Then once
again Tranque Float would be devastated and people who wanted nothing
to do with the project would be injured, even killed. It seemed only
just that he announce his intentions, in order to give those who
disapproved a chance to remove themselves. But by so warning Ixon
Myrex and Semm Voiderveg he guaranteed himself of their vigilance,
their antagonism, and possibly their interference. It was simple
common sense and good generalship to dissemble, to calm Ixon Myrex
and Semm Voiderveg and blunt their suspicions. What if a few innocent
persons did get killed? No battles were won without casualties. And
Sklar Hast tried to twist his tongue to speak evasion and
reassurance, but he could not do it; he was physically unable to put
on the necessary mask, and felt a great anger for his own weakness.
“If I were
you,” he said roughly, “I’d depart Tranque Float and stay
away. Because there might well be further unorthodoxy, as you call
it.”
“Exactly in
what degree?” asked Ixon Myrex crisply.
“I’ve made no
plans. I wouldn’t tell you in any event. But now, against my better
judgment, I’ve warned you.”
Semm Voiderveg once
more began to speak, but once more Ixon Myrex silenced him. “I
see that our attempt at a harmonious solution is in vain. You warned
me; I will warn you. Any attempt to offend King Kragen, any attempt
upon his dignity will be regarded as a capital crime. That is my
judgment as Arbiter of Tranque Float! You have challenged authority
and the majesty of tradition. Beware that your impudence does not
bring you to grief!”
One of the others
spoke: Gian Recargo, the Bezzler Elder, a man of great gentility,
rectitude, and presence. “Sklar Hast, are you aware of
Similar Books
