Джон Вэнс - Scanned by Highroller

«For those who visit Junction for the first time I will state that it lies in no planet's jurisdiction, that its law is at the whim of the owner and his comptroller, that their main interest is in extracting money from your pockets through pleasures and pastimes of various natures.

«Thus I urge you, beware of the gambling cages. I say to you women–do not enter the Perfume Park alone for that is a signal that you wish a paid escort. The men who patronize Tier Three will find it expensive and perhaps dangerous. There have been cases of murder for robbery reported. A man engrossed with a girl is an easy target for a knife. Again films have been made of persons engaged in questionable acts, and these have been used for blackmail.

«Lastly let no desire for excitement or thrill take you down to the Arena–because you may easily be forced into the ring and set to fighting an expert warrior. Once you pay admission you put yourself at the choice of whoever is victor at the moment. It is astonishing how many casual visitors, whether under the influence of drugs, alcohol, lust for excitement or sheer bravado, dare the Arena. A good number of them are killed or seriously injured. «Enough for the warnings. I do not wish to alarm you. There are a number of legitimate pleasures you may indulge in. The Nineteen Gardens are the talk of the Universe. In the Celestium you may dine on food of your planet, hear your native music. The shops along the Esplanade sell anything you may desire at very reasonable prices.

«So with this warning I put you on your own. Thirty-two hours from now we leave for Ballenkarch.»

He withdrew. There was a general shuffling of feet. Joe noticed that Manaolo followed Elfane to her cabin. The two Druid missionaries returned to their portable altar, apparently with no intention of going ashore. The Mang officer, Erru Kametin, marched off with the young widow at his heels and after them went the two Mangs in civilian dress.

The gaunt bald old woman moved not an inch from her chair but sat staring across the floor. The Cils, giggling, stepping high, rushed from the ship. Hableyat stopped before Joe, plump arms clasped behind his back. «Well, my friend, are you going ashore?»

«Yes,» said Joe. «I think I probably will. I'm waiting to see what the Priestess and Manaolo will do.»

Hableyat teetered on his heels. «Steer clear of that chap is my best advice. He's a vicious example of megalomania–conditioned, I may add, to its most exquisite pitch by his environment. Manaolo considers himself divine and ordained–actually, literally–to a degree neither of us can imagine. Manaolo knows no right or wrong. He knows pro and con Manaolo.»

The door to cabin 13 opened. Manaolo and Elfane stepped out on the balcony. Manaolo, in the lead, carried a small parcel. He wore a chased cuirass of gold and bright metal and a long green cloak, embroidered with yellow leaves, was flung back from his shoulders.

Looking to neither right nor left he strode down the stairs, across the cabin, out the port.

Elfane halted on reaching the saloon deck, looked after him, shook her head–a motion eloquent of annoyance. She turned, crossed the saloon to Joe and Hableyat.

Hableyat made a respectful inclination of the head, which Elfane acknowledged coolly. She said to Joe, «I want you to conduct me ashore.»

«Is that an invitation or an order?»

Elfane raised her eyebrows quizzically. «It means I want you to take me ashore.»

«Very well,» said Joe, rising to his feet. «I'll be glad to.» Hableyat sighed. «If only I were young and handsome–» Joe snorted. «Handsome?»

«–no lovely young lady would need to ask me twice.»

Elfane said in a tight voice, «I think it's only fair to mention that Manaolo promised to kill you if he finds you talking to me.»

There was silence. Then Joe said in a voice that sounded strange in his own ears, «So the very first thing, you come over and ask me to take you ashore.»

«Are you frightened?»

«I'm not brave.»

She turned sharply, started for the port. Hableyat said curiously, «Why did you do that?»

Joe snorted angrily. «She's a troublemaker. She has a ridiculous notion that I'll risk some crazy Druid shooting me down like a dog merely for the privilege of walking her around.» He watched her leave the ship, slim as a birch in her dark blue cape. «She's right,» said Joe. «I am just that kind of damn fool.»

He started off after her on the run. Hableyat watched them go off together, smiled sadly, rubbed his hands together. Then unbuckling the robe from around his paunch, he sat back on the couch once again, dreamily followed the devotions of the two Druids at their altar.

They were walking down a corridor lined with small shops. «Look,» said Joe, «are you a Druid Priestess, about as likely to lop the life out of a commoner as not–or are you a nice kid out on a date?»

Elfane tossed her head, tried to look dignified and worldly. «I am a very important person and one day I will be the Suppliant for the entire Shire of Kelminester. A small shire, true, but the guidance of three million souls to the Tree will be in my hands.»

Joe gave her a disgusted look. «Won't they do just as well without you?»

She laughed, relaxed for an instant to become a gay dark-haired girl. «Oh–probably. But I'm forced to keep up appearances.»

«The trouble is that after awhile you'll start believing all that stuff.»

She said nothing for a moment. Then, mischievously, «Why are you looking about so attentively? Is this corridor so interesting then?»

«I'm watching for that devil Manaolo,» said Joe. «It would be just like him to be lurking in one of these shadows and step out and stab me.»

Elfane shook her head. «Manaolo has gone down to Tier Three. He has tried to make me his lover every night of the voyage but I have no desire for him. This morning he threatened that unless I yielded he would debauch himself along the Tier. I told him by all means to do so and then perhaps his virility would not be so ardently directed against me. He left in a huff.»

«Manaolo always seems to be in a state of offended dignity.»

«He is a man with a very exalted rank,» said Elfane. «Now let us go down here. I wish to–»

Joe took her arm, swung her around, gazed into her startled eyes, her nose an inch from his.

«Look here, young lady. I'm not trying to assert my virility but I'm not trotting here and there after you, carrying your bundles like a chauffeur.»

He knew it was the wrong word.

«Chauffeur, ha ! Then–»

«If you don't like my company,» said Joe, «now's the time to leave.» After a moment she said, «What's your name beside Smith?»

«Call me Joe.»

«Joe–you're a very remarkable man. Very strange. You puzzle me, Joe.»

«If you want to come with me–a chauffeur, a mechanic, a civil engineer, a moss-planter, a bartender, a tennis instructor, a freight docker, a dozen other things –we're going down to the Nineteen Gardens and see if they sell Earth-style beer.»

The Nineteen Gardens occupied a slice through the middle of the construction–nineteen wedge-shaped sections surrounding a central platform which served as a restaurant.

They found a vacant table and, to Joe's surprise, beer in frosted quart beakers was set before them without comment.

«If it pleases your Divinity,» said Elfane meekly.

Joe grinned sheepishly. «You don't need to carry it that far. It must be a Druid trait, an avalanche one way, another way, all the way. Well, what did you want?»

«Nothing.» She turned in her seat, looked out across the gardens. At this point Joe realized that willy-nilly, for good or bad, he was wildly enamored. Margaret? He sighed. She was far away, a thousand light-years.