Brian Aldiss - Helliconia Summer

“Can you explain to me how to make—photogiraffes?”

“Photographs. I’ll try, when we reach Lordryardry.”

“Good, let’s go down, then, and never mind hanging about for Akhanaba to appear. Let’s get some food and sleep, and we will be off promptly in the morning, before noon.”

“Avernus will be up in an hour. It will make a transit of the whole sky in about twenty minutes.”

“Billish, you’ve been ill. You must be in bed in an hour. Food, then bed—alone. I must be your father on Earth—I mean to say, on Helliconia. Then if your parents watch us, they will be happy.”

“We don’t really have parents, only clans,” Billy explained, as they went under the arch and prepared to descend. “Extra-uterine birth is practised.”

“I will much enjoy your drawing me a picture of how you manage that ,” the Ice Captain said.

They spiralled back to the ground, Billy clutching Abathy’s hand.

Downriver, the scenery changed. First one bank, then the other, became the scene of intensive cultivation. The jungles were left behind. They had entered the land of the loess. The Lordryardry Lady slipped into Ottassol almost before its passengers realized, unused as they were to cities which had withdrawn their existence underground.

As Div supervised the unloading of goods onto the quay, Ice Captain Muntras took Billy below decks and into a now empty cabin.

“You’re feeling well?”

“Excellent. It can’t last. Where’s Abathy?”

“Listen to me, Billish, I want you to stay quiet here while I transact a little business in Ottassol. I must see an old friend or two. And I have an important letter to deliver. There are clever Johnnies here, not just country bumpkins. I don’t wish anyone to know of your existence, you understand?”

“Why’s that?”

Muntras looked him in the eye. “Because I’m an old bumpkin myself and I believe your tale.”

Billy smiled with pleasure. “Thank you. You have more sense than SartoriIrvrash or the king.”

They shook hands.

The bulk of the Ice Captain seemed almost to fill the little cabin. He leaned forward confidentially. “Remember how those two treated you, and do as I say. You stay in this cabin. No one must know of your existence.”

“While you go ashore and get drunk again. Where’s Abathy?”

A big hand came up in a cautionary gesture. “I’m getting old and I want no fuss. I will not get drunk. I will return as soon as possible. I want to get you safe to Lordryardry, where you will be well looked after, you and that magical timepiece of yours. There, you can tell me about the vessel that brought you here, and other inventions. But first I have some business to transact, and that letter to deliver.”

Billy became more anxious. “Krillio, where is Abathy?”

“Don’t make yourself ill again. Abathy has gone. You know she was travelling only as far as Ottassol.”

“She’s left without saying good-bye? Without a kiss?”

“Div was jealous, so I hustled her away. I’m sorry. She sent you her love. She’s got a living to make, like everyone else.”

“A living to make…” Speech failed him.

Muntras took the opportunity to slip nimbly out of the cabin and lock the door from the outside. He pocketed the key, smiling as he did so.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said reassuringly as Billy started to hammer on the door. He climbed the companionway stairs, crossed the deck, and strolled down the gangplank. Across the wharf was a tunnel leading into the loess. A notice above it read:

This was a modest wharf. The main Lordryardry wharf was half a mile farther downstream, where the seagoing ships tied up, and a grander affair entirely. But here few eyes pried, and security was good. Muntras walked down the tunnel and entered a checking office.

Two clerks, alarmed to see the owner arrive, stood up, hiding playing cards under ledgers. The other occupants of the office were Div and Abath.

“Thank you, Div. Will you take these clerks away and let me have a moment alone with Abathy?”

In his sullen way, Div did as instructed. When the door had closed behind the three men, Muntras locked it and turned to the girl.

“Sit down, my dear, if you like.”

“What do you want? The journey’s over—at long last—and I ought to be on my way.” She looked huffy and at the same time anxious. The sight of the locked door worried her. In a way she had of drawing down her mouth in displeasure, Muntras recognized her mother’s gesture.

“Don’t be cheeky, young lady. You’ve behaved properly till now, and I’m pleased with you. In case you don’t realize it, Captain Krillio Muntras is a valuable ally for a young slip of a thing like you, old though I am. I’m pleased with you, and I intend to reward you for how amiable you were with me and Billish.”

She relaxed slightly.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that you were making a—a bit of a mystery of it. I mean, I would have liked to have said good-bye to Billish. What is wrong in his harneys?”

As she was talking, he was removing some silver pieces from his body belt. He held them out to her, smiling.

Abath came closer and, as she reached out to take the money, he grasped her wrist tightly with his other hand. She gave a cry of pain.

“Now, girl, you can have this money, but first I’m going to get a confidence out of you. You know that Ottassol is a big port?”

He squeezed her wrist till she hissed, “Yes.”

“You know there are therefore many foreigners in this big port?”

Squeeze. Hiss.

“You know among those foreigners are people from other continents?”

Another squeeze. Another hiss.

“Like Hespagorat, for instance?”

Squeeze and hiss.

“And even far Sibornal?”

Squeeze, hiss.

“Including people of the Uskut race?”

Squeeze—pause—hiss.

Although it seemed from the furrowing of Muntras’s brow that this catechism was not over, he let go of the wrist, which had grown red during interrogation. Abath took the silver coins and tucked them into a pocket in the roll of luggage she had by her, making no comment beyond a dark look.

“Sensible girl. Take what you can in life. And I am correct in thinking that you had some dealings with a certain man of Uskut race, in Matrassyl, in the way of the usual commodities. Isn’t that so?”

She looked defiant again and stood alertly as if thinking of attacking him.

“What usual commodities might those be?”

“The ones you and your mother trade in, my dear—money and kooni. Look, it is no secret to me, because I had the word off your mother and have kept it under my palm ever since. It’s been so long that I need you to remind me of the name of that man of Uskut race with whom you exchanged those commodities.”

Abath shook her head. Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Look, “ I thought you were a friend. Forget it! The feller’s left Matrassyl anyhow, and gone back to his own country. He got into trouble… That’s why I came south, if you want to know. My mother should have held her slanje tongue.”

“I see. Your money supply ran out—or ran away… Now, I just want to hear you pronounce his name, and then you’re free.”

She put her hands up to her face and said into them, “Io Pasharatid.”

A moment’s silence.

“You did aim high, my little fillock. I hardly believed it. The ambassador of Sibornal, no less! And not only kooni but guns involved. Did his wife know?”

“What do you think?” She was defiant again. She outshone her mother.

He became brisk. “Very well. Thank you, Abathy. You now are clear that I have a hold on you. You have a hold on me. You know about Billish. Nobody else must know about Billish. You must keep quiet and never mention his name, not even in your sleep. He was just one more customer. Now he has gone, and you’ve been paid.