Wyst: Alastor 1716 (10 page)

Surprised by Skorlet’s vehemence, Jantiff went to his chair.
Skorlet continued to daub grimly at her contrivances and Jantiff growled: “What
good are those things that you’re wasting my pigments on?”

“I don’t know what good they are! I take them down to
Disjerferact and people pay good tokens for them and that’s all I care. Now I
need just a bit of that orange—Jantiff, it’s no use showing me that mulish
expression!”

“Here, take it! This is the last time! From now on I’m
locking everything up in my case!”

‘lanai, you’re a very small person?’

“And you’re very large—with other people’s belongings!”

“Control your tongue, Jantiff! You have no right to hector me!
Now turn on the screen. The Whispers are making an important speech and I want
to hear it.”

“Bah,” muttered Jantiff. “Just more of the same.” Nevertheless,
upon meeting Skorlet’s lambent gaze, he rose to his feet and did her bidding.

Jantiff wrote a letter home:

Dearest family:

First my inevitable requests. I don’t want to be a nuisance, but
circumstances are against me. Please send me another selection of
pigments, of double size. They cannot be obtained here, like everything else.
Still, life progresses. The food of course is deadly dull; everyone is obsessed
with “bonter.” Some friends are planning a “gypsy banquet,” whatever that is. I’ve
been invited, and I’ll probably attend, if only to get away from gruff and
deedle for a few hours.

I fear that I’m developing a fragmented personality. I wonder
sometimes if I’m not living in a dreamland, where white is black and black is
not white, which would be ,too simple, but something, totally absurd Me, say,
ten dead dogfish or the smell of gilly-flowers. Mind you, Arrabus was at one
time a very ordinary industrialized nation. Is this the inevitable sequence?
The ideas succeed each other with a frightening logic. Life is short; why waste
a second on thankless drudgery? Technology exists for this, purpose! Therefore,
technology must be augmented and extended, to dispel as much drudgery as
possible. Let the machines toil! Leisure, the rich flavor of sheer existence,
is the goal! Very good, if only the machines could do everything. But they won’t
repair themselves, and they won’t perform human services, so even Arrabins must
drudge: a sour thirteen hours a week. Next, the machines are unkind enough to
break down. Contractors must be hired, from compounds in Blale and Froke and
other places at the back of the Weirdlands. Needless to say, the contractors
refuse to work on the cheap. In fact, or so I am told, they absorb almost the
whole of the gross Arrabin product. The Arrabins could relieve the situation by
training persons so inclined to be technicians and mechanics, but egalists assert
that specialization is the first step, toward elitism. No doubt they are right.
It never occurs to anyone that the contractors are elitists of the very finest
water, who grow rich exploiting the Arrabins—if exploiting is the proper word.

I wrote “never occurs to anyone,” but perhaps this isn’t quite accurate.
The other night I heard a public address by the Whispers. I made some sketches
as they appeared on the screen; I enclose one of them. The Whispers are chosen
by a random process. On each level of every block someone, selected by lot,
becomes a monitor. The 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 nothing! Draw up another
sketch, or send off others. The affair is quite inconsequential and you
cannot imagine how you distract me.”

“Excuse me,” said Jantiff. “As you suggest, I will send another
sketch, and please convey my compliments to the snerge.”

Skorlet only shrugged and finished her work. “Now, Jantiff,
please help me carry the globes down to Esteban’s apartment; he knows the
dealer who sells for the best price.”

Jantiff started to protest but Skorlet cut him short: “Really,
Jantiff, I’m dumbfounded! In your life you’ve enjoyed every known luxury, yet
you won’t help poor Tanzel to a single taste of bonter!”

“That’s not true,” cried Jantiff hotly. “I took her to
Disjerferact the other day and bought her all the poggets
[20]
and water-puffs and eel-pies she could eat!”

“Never-mind all that! Just bear a hand now; I’m not asking
anything, unreasonable of you.”

Jantiff sullenly allowed himself to be loaded down with
cult-globes. Skorlet gathered up the rest and they proceeded around the
corridors to Esteban’s apartment. In response to Skorlet’s kick at the, door,
Esteban peered out into the corridor. He saw the globes without show of
enthusiasm. “So many?”

“Yes, so many! I’ve made them and you can trade them, and
please bring back whatever old wire you can salvage.”

“It’s really an enormous inconvenience—”

Skorlet tried to make a furious gesture but, impeded by the
globes, managed only to flap her elbows. “You and Jantiff are both
insufferable! I intend to go to the feast and Tanzel is coming as well. Unless
you care to pay for her bonter, then you must help me with these globes!”

Esteban gave a groan of annoyance. “An abominable nuisance!
Well, dog defile it, what must be, must be. Let’s count them out.”

While they worked Jantiff seated himself upon the couch,
which Esteban had upholstered with a fine thick cloth, patterned in a dramatic
orange, brown and black geometry. The other furnishings showed similar evidence
of taste and discrimination. Upon an end table Jantiff noticed a camera of
familiar aspect. He picked it up, looked at it closely and put it in his
pocket.

Skorlet and Esteban finished the count. “Kibner is not the effusively
generous person you take him for,” said Esteban. “He’ll want at least thirty
percent of the gross.”

Skorlet gave a poignant contralto cry of distress. “That’s
utterly exorbitant! Think of the scrounging, the work, the, inconvenience I’ve
suffered! Ten percent is surely enough!”

Esteban laughed dubiously. “I’ll start with five and, settle
as low as I can.”

“Be steadfast! Also you must carefully impress values upon
Kibner! He seems to think we don’t know the worth of money.”

“Creeping elitism there!” Esteban warned her facetiously. “Curb
that tendency!”

“Yes, of course,” said Skorlet sarcastically. “Come along,
Jantiff. It’s almost time for evening wump.”

Esteban’s gaze brushed the end table, stopped short, veered
around the room, returned briefly to the end table, then came to rest upon
Jantiff. “Just a moment. There’s snergery going on, and I don’t care to be a
party to it.”

“What are you talking about?” snapped Skorlet “You have
nothing worth attention.”

“What of my camera? Come now, Jantiff, disgorge. You were
sitting on the couch, and I even saw you make the move.”

“This is embarrassing,” said Jantiff.

“No doubt. The camera is missing. Do you have it?”

“As a matter of fact I have my own camera with me, the one I
brought from Zeck. I haven’t so much as seen yours.” Esteban took a menacing
step forward and extended his hand. “No snerging here, please. You took my camera;
give it back.”

“No, this is definitely my own camera.”

“It’s mine! It was on the table and I saw you take it.”

“Can you identify it?”

“Naturally! Beyond all equivocation! I could even describe
the pictures on the matrix.” He hesitated and added: “If I chose to do so.”

 “Mine has the name Jantiff Ravensroke engraved beside the
serial number in twisted reed Old Mish characters. Does yours?”

Esteban stared at Jantiff with hot round brown eyes. He
spoke in a harsh voice: “I don’t know what’s engraved beside the serial number.”

Jantiff wrote in elegant flourishes on a piece of paper. ‘“This
is Old Mish. Do you care to inspect my camera?”

Esteban made an incomprehensible sound and turned his back.

Jantiff, and Skorlet left the apartment. As they walked the
corridor Skorlet said: “That was both childish and unnecessary. What do
you gain by antagonizing Esteban?”

Jantiff stopped short in shock and astonishment Skorlet
strode grimly forward without slackening her pace. Jantiff ran to catch up.
“You can’t be serious!”

“Naturally I’m serious!”

But I only reclaimed the property he stole from me! Isn’t
that a reasonable act?”

“You should use the word ‘snerge’; it’s far more polite.”

“I was quite polite to Esteban, under the circumstances.”

“Not really. You know how fastidiously proud he is.”

“Hmmf. I don’t understand how any Arrabin can be proud.”

Skorlet swung around and briskly slapped Jantiff’s face.
Jantiff stood back, then shrugged. In silence they returned to their apartment
Skorlet flung open the door and marched into the sitting room. Jantiff closed
the door with exaggerated care.

Skorlet swung around to face him. Jantiff retreated, but
Skorlet now was remorseful. In a throbbing voice she cried: “It was wrong to
strike you; please forgive me.”

“My fault, really,” mumbled lentil’. “I should not have
mentioned the Arrabins.”

“Let’s not talk about it; we’re both tired and troubled. In fact,
let’s go to bed and copulate, to restore our equanimity; I simply must relax.”

“That’s an odd notion but—oh, I suppose so, if you’re of a mind.”

Arriving at Kedidah’s apartment, Jantiff found only Sarp on
the premises. Sarp announced, gruffly that Kedidah would be back shortly “—with
noise and confusion and jerking about this way and that. Not an easy one to
share with, iv tell you!”

“A pity!” said Jantiff. “Why don’t you trade apartments with
someone?”

“Easier said than done! Who’d choose to burden their lives
with such a hity-tity waloonch? And will she pick up behind herself? Never. She
creates disorder out of the thin air!”

“As a matter of fact I find my own roommate just a bit too
quietly self-contained,” said Jantiff. “One hardly knows she is about, and she
has an almost geometrical sense of tidiness. Perhaps I might be persuaded to
trade with you.”

Sarp’ cocked his head to the side, and squinted dubiously at
Jantiff. “It’s always a gamble. Who is this paragon of yours?”