Jack Vance: The Asutra

"Bah," muttered Sul. "I am unable to chop logic with you; you have the superior sleight with words."

Etzwane said, "Make sure the thongs are secure. " He spoke to Kretzel. 'Tell the Ka that we mean them no harm, that we regard the asutra as our mutual enemy."

Kretzel peered at Etzwane in perplexity, as if she found the remarks strange and foolish. "Why do you tell them that?"

"So that they will help us, or at least do nothing to hinder."

She shook her head. "I'll sing to them, but they will pay no great heed. You do not understand the Ka. " She took up her double-pipes and played phrases. The Ka listened without perceptible reaction. They made no reply, but after a brief silence made wavering, tremulous sounds, like the chuckling of baby owls.

Etzwane looked at them doubtfully. "What do they say?"

Kretzel shrugged. "They talk together in the 'Allusive' Style, which is beyond my capability. In any event, I don't think they understand you. " "Ask them when the ship will return."

Kretzel laughed but obliged him. The Ka looked at her blankly. One warbled a brief phrase, then they were silent. Etzwane looked questioningly at Kretzel.

'They sing from Canto 5633: the 'embarrassing farce.' It might translate as a jeer: "What interest can this matter have for you?' "

"I see," said Etzwane. "They are not practical."

They are practical enough," said Kretzel. 'The situation is beyond their understanding. Do you remember the ahulphs of Durdane?"

T do indeed."

'To the Ka, men are like ahulphs: unpredictable, half-intelligent, addicted to incomprehensible antics. They cannot take you seriously."

Etzwane grunted. "Ask the question again. Tell them that when the ship arrives they will be freed."

Kretzel played her flute. A terse answer returned. The ship will be back in a few days with a new corps of slaves."

The mutinous slaves had gained themselves food, shelter, and a respite which all realized to be temporary. A certain Joro argued that the group should transport supplies to some secret place in the hills and hope to survive until they could dare another raid. "By this means we gain another several months, and who knows what might happen? The rescue ships from Earth might arrive."

Etzwane gave a bitter laugh. "I know now what I should have known every moment of my life; that unless you help yourself, you die a slave. The fact is basic. No one is going to rescue us. If we remain here, the chances are good that we will shortly be killed. If we go out to hide upon the moors, we gain two months of wet clothes and misery, and then we will be killed anyway. If we pursue the original plan, at best we gain a great advantage and at worst we die in dignity, doing our enemies as much damage as possible."

"The chances of 'best' are few and of 'worst' many," grumbled Sul. "I for one am fatigued with these visionary schemes."

"You must do as you think best," said Etzwane politely. "By all means, go forth upon the moors. The way is open."

Korba said curtly, "Those who want to go, let them go now. The rest of us have work to do, and time may be short."

But neither Sul nor Joro chose to leave.

During the day Rune the Willow Wand approached Etzwane. "Do you remember me? I am the Alula girl who once befriended you. I wonder if you think warmly of me now? But I am haggard and wrinkled, as if I were old. Is this not true?"

Etzwane, preoccupied with a hundred anxieties, looked across the compound, trying to contrive a remark suitably noncommittal. He said, somewhat curtly, "On this world a pretty girl is a freak."

"Ah! I wish then I were a freak! So long ago, when the men reached to tweak off my little cap, I was happy, even though I pretended displeasure. But now, if I were to dance naked in the compound, who would look at me?"

"You would still attract attention," said Etzwane. "Especially if you danced well."

"You mock me," said Rune sorrowfully. "Why cannot you offer me some consolation: a touch or a smiling glance? You make me feel squat and ugly."

"I have no such intention," said Etzwane. "You may be assured of this. But please excuse me; I must see to our preparations."

Two days went past, with tension increasing every hour. On the morning of the third day a disk-ship slid up the coast from the south and hovered over the camp. There was no need for alarms or exhortations; the men were already at their stations.

The ship hovered, hanging on a humming web of vibration. Etzwane, in the garage, watched with clammy sweat on his body, wondering which of many circumstances would go wrong.

From the ship came a mellow hooting, which after an interval reverberated back from the hill.

The sound died, the ship hovered. Etzwane held his breath until his lungs ached.

The ship moved, and slowly descended to the landing field. Etzwane exhaled and leaned forward. This now was the time of crisis.

The ship touched the ground, which visibly subsided under the mass of the ship. A minute passed, two minutes. Etzwane wondered if those aboard had perceived an incorrectness, the absence of some formality… The port opened; a ramp slid to the soil. Down came two Ka, asutra riding their necks like small black jockeys. They halted at the base of the ramp, looked across the compound. Two more Ka descended the ramp, and the four stood as if waiting.

A pair of drays set out from the warehouse: the usual procedure when a ship landed. They swerved to pass close to the ramp. Etzwane and three men came forth from the garage, to walk with simulated purposelessness toward the ship. From other areas of the yard other small groups of men converged upon the ship.

The first dray halted; four men stepped down and suddenly leapt upon the Ka. From the second dray four other men brought thongs; there would be only needful killing, lest they be left with a ship and no one to navigate. While the group struggled at the foot of the ramp, Etzwane and his men ran up the ramp and into the ship.

The ship carried a crew of fourteen Ka and several dozens of asutra, some in trays like that which Etzwane and Ifness had found in the wreck under Thrie Orgai. Except for the scuffle at the foot of the ramp, neither Ka nor asutra offered resistance. The Ka had seemed paralyzed by surprise, or perhaps apathetic; there was no comprehending their emotions. The asutra were as opaque as flint. Again the rebel slaves felt the frustration of overexertion, of striking out with all force and encountering only air. They felt relieved but cheated, triumphant yet seething with unrelieved tension.

The great central hold contained, almost four hundred men and women. These were of all ages and conditions, but in general seemed of poor quality, spiritless and defeated.

Etzwane wasted no time upon the folk in the hold; he gathered the Ka and their asutra in the control dome and brought up Kretzel. "Tell them this," said Etzwane, "and make sure that they comprehend exactly. We want to return to Durdane. This is what we require of them: transportation to our home-world. We will tolerate nothing less. Tell them that when we arrive at our destination, then we will make no further demands upon them; they may have their lives and their ship. If they refuse to take us to Durdane, we will destroy them without mercy."

Kretzel frowned and licked her lips, then brought forth her pipes and played Etzwane's message.

The Ka stood unresponsive. Etzwane asked anxiously, "Do they understand?"

"They understand," said Kretzel. "They have already decided what their answer will be. This is a ceremonial silence."

One of the Ka addressed Kretzel in a set of careful First Style tones, delivered in a manner so offhand as to seem condescending or even derisive.

Kretzel said to Etzwane, They will take you to Durdane. The ship departs at once."