Gene Wolfe - Return to the Whorl

"I-" He picked up his spoon. "Because you would have heard me, I suppose, if I had been-though I try to make as little noise as I can, eating soup. You came here seeking new eyes, Pig?"

"Aye. Yer knows a' ther wee folk, bucky?"

"Children, you mean? Or us? We must seem very small indeed to you."

"Smaller'n yer. Hereabout folk don't know such, but h'in ther light lands 'tis different. They comes, an' they goes." Pig held out his hand, scarcely higher than the table. "Little bits a' men, an' morts small ter them h'even. 'Fore me een's took, they dinna hardly never come. Not many's never seed such h'up close, like. H'after, they come 'round lots, knowin' 'twas safe wi' me, lang h'as they stayed h'out a' me reach."

Pig paused, his big fingers groping his beard. "They'd nae been afore, maybe. Canna say. Ane name a' Flannan come particular h'often. Still nae eatin' yer soup, bucky?"

"I suppose I'm not especially hungry-" he began.

"Bird eat!"

"Besides, I was listening to you with rapt attention." He dipped up soup, and sipped. "This was in the mountains, in the light lands, as you call them?"

"Ho, aye. Na braithrean was takin' care a' me, after 'em what had me give me h'up. Settin' Nall ter meself h'in ther sun. Settin' h'on a stone, knew 'twas h'in the sun by the warm a' h'it h'on me clock, an' here's Flannan. H'in ther west, he says, they gie new een. Gae ter t'other h'end a' ther sun. 'Tis Mainframe says h'it, Flannan says. What fashes yer, bucky?"

He had dropped his spoon into his bowl, and Tansy asked, "Yes, what is it?"

"I understand! I-what a fool! You talked about little people, Pig, and I ought to have understood you at once. They fly, don't they?"

"Do they fly, bucky? They do."

"We call them Fliers here," he said, "and I used to know one. The mountains you mentioned, are those the Mountains That Look at Mountains?"

"Aye, bucky, but 'tis lang h'on ther tongue sae Pig says mountings, mostly."

He spoke to Tansy and Hound. "The Mountains That Look at Mountains surround Mainframe at the East Pole. I went there once. We flew over them."

Wide-eyed, Tansy asked, "Can you fly, too? Like a Flier?"

"No. I was a-a passenger, I suppose I should say, on the airship of the Rani of Trivigaunte. Auk and Chenille and Nettle and me. And Maytera, too, and Patera Remora. A lot of people. We went to Mainframe and spoke with the dead. I know how that sounds, how incredible. You need not believe me, and I won't blame you in the least if you don't."

"Bird go!" Oreb declared.

"Will you, good bird?" He fished a slice of celery from his soup and offered it.

"This is…" Tansy pushed a lock of her long hair from her eyes. "You really are extraordinary people, Horn. Both of you are."

"Everyone is an extraordinary person," he told her solemnly. "I haven't profited from life as I should. I haven't learned very much at all. But I have learned that, a fact I know beyond all doubt and question. That's something, surely."

He turned back to Pig. "But you don't want to hear about me, and I certainly don't want to hear about myself. My mind keeps talking to me about myself all the time, and to confess the truth, I'm heartily sick of it. This Flier, Flannan-he said that they could give you new eyes at the West Pole? And that Mainframe had told him it was possible?"

"Did he say sae? He did. Soon h'as he's h'off himself, 'tis ther road fer Pig. 'Tis a lang 'un, though."

Hound asked, "To the West Pole? I've never heard of anyone traveling anything like that far. Have you, Horn?"

"No. It's hundreds of leagues, I'm sure. If memory serves, Sciathan-that was the Flier I knew-said once that it would take months for a mounted party to reach the East Pole, and I believe we're considerably nearer the East Pole than the West. It might easily take Pig years to walk to the West Pole. Or so I would imagine."

"'Tis been a year fer me h'already, bucky." Pig inclined toward him, his great, homely face, banded with its soiled rag and lit from below by the flickering candle, desperate and resolute. "H'only ter me, h'if een can be put back there, een can be put back somewhere h'else, like Was nae. Sae why nae h'ask h'along yer way?"

"Why not indeed?"

"Gae ter t'other h'end, though, h'if there's nae help fer h'it. Yer need nae come wi' me, h'if yer finds yer h'own short a' there."

The man Pig called bucky smiled, sipped his water, and smiled again. "Which brings us to me, I'm afraid. Shall I recount my tale?"

Pig grunted, and Hound and Tansy nodded, while Oreb bobbed his approval. "Silk talk!"

"My name is Horn, as you know. I was born in the city; I lived there until the age of fifteen, when a group of us boarded the lander that carried us to Blue, where we founded the town we call New Viron. My wife, Nettle, and I settled outside the town, on Lizard Island. We manufacture paper there and sell it-or we did." He took another sip of water. "It's so hot here. I had forgotten."

Hound said, "Lately. Hot summers and short winters."

"Yes, I remember now. Mainframe is losing control of the sun, and Pas is trying to drive all of you out."

Tansy nodded. "That's what the augurs say."

"Gae h'on, bucky."

"As you wish. New Viron has grown-I won't call it a city, yet that would be only a slight exaggeration. Others have come, of course, and some have joined us, coming to live in New Viron or working land in its territory, or fishing or lumbering. Some have been from Viron itself, some from Limna and the other villages, no doubt including this one, and some from foreign cities. When a group from a foreign city lands, they are not permitted to establish a town of their own where they landed, for reasons that should be apparent. They must either join us in New Viron or leave our territory. Most choose to unite themselves to us."

Hound said, "I understand."

"Some are forced to stay and labor for us, I'm sorry to say, and are bought and sold like cattle; in any case, they too swell our population. There has been natural increase as well, as one would expect. Nettle and I have three sons, and ours is not considered a large family. Families with eight or ten children are by no means uncommon."

"Yer lookin' fer a mon a' ther name a' Silk, bucky."

"Yes, I am, and that's the most urgent point I require information on. He may be called Calde Silk or Patera Silk. Can any of you tell me where to find him?"

Hound and Tansy shook their heads.

"Things are not as we'd like in New Viron, you see. The rich struggle with one another, each gathering such followers as he can and hoping to rule in a year or two. Stronger than any of them is the mob, those among us who acknowledge no rule but their own, and desire neither justice nor peace."

Hound said, "That sounds like Viron itself. Are you sure you're not talking about that?"

"No. I have not set foot in Viron in twenty years, and I am very sorry indeed to hear that things are in such a state. Since neither you nor your wife can tell me where I might find Patera Silk, I take it he no longer leads your government."

Tansy said, "That was years and years ago."

"I see." He paused, stirred his soup, and fished out a morsel of cabbage for Oreb. "We hoped that he could help us-and that he would. It's why I came."

Hound asked, "From Blue?"

"Indirectly, yes. I knew Calde Silk well in the old days."

Tansy pulled a wad of colored cloth from one of the pockets of her apron. "Napkins! I brought napkins, and forgot to give them to you."

He accepted one and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry. It's a childish weakness, one I very much regret. I happened to think again about leaving, and the last time I saw Silk. It was snowing. One of those short winters we spoke of, and I only saw half of it. Half or less. Silk walked away into the snow, and we went down into the tunnels, Nettle and I. I was very excited, and felt that we were doing something terribly brave, and that we were doing what Silk wanted, too.