twenty-three monitors choose by lot, a Block Warden.
From the Block Wardens of each district a Delegate is selected, by lot of
course. Each of the four great metropolitan divisions: Uncibal, Propunce,
Waunisse and Serce, is represented by its Panel of Delegates. By lot one of
these Delegates becomes a Whisper. The Whispers are expected to wield their
authority, such as it is, in a subdued, egalistic manner: hence the title “Whispers”
which developed, so I am told, from a jocular conversation many years ago.
In any event the Whispers appeared on the screen the other night.
They spoke very guardedly, and made dutiful obeisance to the glories of egalism.
Still, the effect was hardly optimistic. Even I apprehended the hints, and my
ears are not as keen in this regard as those of the Arrabins. The woman
Fausgard read out statistics making no comment, but everyone could hear that
the equilibrium was failing, that capital deterioration exceeded repair and replacement,
from which everyone could draw whatever conclusion they chose. The Whispers announced
that they will shortly visit the Connatic at Lusz to discuss the situation.
These ideas aren’t popular; the Arrabins reject them automatically, and I have
heard grumbling that the expedition to Numenes is just a junket in search of
high living. Remember, the Whispers live in the same apartments and eat the
same gruff, deedle and wobbly as anyone else; however, they do no drudge. At
the Centenary they will make a further announcement, undoubtedly to the effect
that the contractors must be phased out. This idea in itself hurts no
Arrabin feelings. The contractors live baronial lives on their country estates,
and the Arrabins know them (enviously?) for elitists.
Items of incidental intelligence: Blade, at the south edge of “Weirdland,”
is warmed by an equatorial current and is not as cold as its latitude suggests.
Remember, Wyst is a very small world! The folk who live in Froke, to the west
of Blale, are called Frooks. Nomads wander Weirdland forests; some are called “gypsies”
and others “witches,” for reasons past my comprehension. The gypsies range
closer to Arrabus and provide feasts of bonter for a fee. The Arrabins lack all
interest in music. None play musical instruments, presumably because of the
drudgery involved. Indeed this is a strange place! Shocking, disturbing,
uncomfortable, hungry, but fascinating! I never tire of watching the great
crowds: everywhere people! There is sheer magnificence to these numbers; it is
marvelous to stand above Uncibal River, gazing down at the faces. Invent a
face: any face you like. Big nose, little ears, round eyes, long chin—sooner or
later you’ll see it in Uncibal River! And do these numbers create a drabness?
or uniformity? To the contrary! Every Arrabin desperately asserts his individuality,
with personal tricks and fads. A futile kind of life, no doubt, but isn’t all
life futile? The Arrabins enter life from nowhere and when they die no one remembers
them. They produce nothing substantial; in fact—so it now occurs to me—the only
commodity they produce is leisure!
Enough for now. I’ll write soon again.
As usual all my affection,
Jantiff.
Jantiff had locked away those pigments remaining to him.
Skorlet perforce decided that her cult-globes were complete and began to tie
them into clusters of six. Jantiff’s restless activities at last attracted her
notice. She looked up from her work and uttered a peevish complaint. “Why in
the name of all perversity must you flutter here and there like a bird with a
broken wing? Settle yourself, I beg you!”
Jantiff responded with quiet dignity. “I made certain
sketches of the Whispers the other night. I wanted to send one or two to my
family, but they have disappeared. I am beginning to suspect snergery.”
Skorlet gave a bark of rude laughter. “If this is the case,
you should be flattered!”
“I am merely annoyed.”
“You make such an absurd fuss over
From the Block Wardens of each district a Delegate is selected, by lot of
course. Each of the four great metropolitan divisions: Uncibal, Propunce,
Waunisse and Serce, is represented by its Panel of Delegates. By lot one of
these Delegates becomes a Whisper. The Whispers are expected to wield their
authority, such as it is, in a subdued, egalistic manner: hence the title “Whispers”
which developed, so I am told, from a jocular conversation many years ago.
In any event the Whispers appeared on the screen the other night.
They spoke very guardedly, and made dutiful obeisance to the glories of egalism.
Still, the effect was hardly optimistic. Even I apprehended the hints, and my
ears are not as keen in this regard as those of the Arrabins. The woman
Fausgard read out statistics making no comment, but everyone could hear that
the equilibrium was failing, that capital deterioration exceeded repair and replacement,
from which everyone could draw whatever conclusion they chose. The Whispers announced
that they will shortly visit the Connatic at Lusz to discuss the situation.
These ideas aren’t popular; the Arrabins reject them automatically, and I have
heard grumbling that the expedition to Numenes is just a junket in search of
high living. Remember, the Whispers live in the same apartments and eat the
same gruff, deedle and wobbly as anyone else; however, they do no drudge. At
the Centenary they will make a further announcement, undoubtedly to the effect
that the contractors must be phased out. This idea in itself hurts no
Arrabin feelings. The contractors live baronial lives on their country estates,
and the Arrabins know them (enviously?) for elitists.
Items of incidental intelligence: Blade, at the south edge of “Weirdland,”
is warmed by an equatorial current and is not as cold as its latitude suggests.
Remember, Wyst is a very small world! The folk who live in Froke, to the west
of Blale, are called Frooks. Nomads wander Weirdland forests; some are called “gypsies”
and others “witches,” for reasons past my comprehension. The gypsies range
closer to Arrabus and provide feasts of bonter for a fee. The Arrabins lack all
interest in music. None play musical instruments, presumably because of the
drudgery involved. Indeed this is a strange place! Shocking, disturbing,
uncomfortable, hungry, but fascinating! I never tire of watching the great
crowds: everywhere people! There is sheer magnificence to these numbers; it is
marvelous to stand above Uncibal River, gazing down at the faces. Invent a
face: any face you like. Big nose, little ears, round eyes, long chin—sooner or
later you’ll see it in Uncibal River! And do these numbers create a drabness?
or uniformity? To the contrary! Every Arrabin desperately asserts his individuality,
with personal tricks and fads. A futile kind of life, no doubt, but isn’t all
life futile? The Arrabins enter life from nowhere and when they die no one remembers
them. They produce nothing substantial; in fact—so it now occurs to me—the only
commodity they produce is leisure!
Enough for now. I’ll write soon again.
As usual all my affection,
Jantiff.
Jantiff had locked away those pigments remaining to him.
Skorlet perforce decided that her cult-globes were complete and began to tie
them into clusters of six. Jantiff’s restless activities at last attracted her
notice. She looked up from her work and uttered a peevish complaint. “Why in
the name of all perversity must you flutter here and there like a bird with a
broken wing? Settle yourself, I beg you!”
Jantiff responded with quiet dignity. “I made certain
sketches of the Whispers the other night. I wanted to send one or two to my
family, but they have disappeared. I am beginning to suspect snergery.”
Skorlet gave a bark of rude laughter. “If this is the case,
you should be flattered!”
“I am merely annoyed.”
“You make such an absurd fuss over
Similar Books
