Gene Wolfe - Return to the Whorl

The bearded man smiled. "I'm Calde Bison. Sorry I kept you waiting, but I had a few little arrangements to make." He offered his hand.

Hound shook it. "These are my friends Horn and Pig, Calde. It's Horn who really has to see you."

Bison nodded; his smile was guarded now.

"He's come all the way from Blue. That's what he says. I mean, he has I'm sure. And he's been to Green. Pig and I… Well, I thought I'd better come too."

He looked at his companions desperately; the smaller said, "I've been sent here by New Viron, the town our colonists have founded. I'd like to tell you about it."

Bison shook his hand and invited them to sit down. The chairs were large and comfortable, elaborately carved, with red leather seats and tapestried backs. He edged his nearer Bison, discovering that it was so heavy he had difficulty moving it.

"I'm here as the representative of the Ayuntamiento of New Viron," he began, "and of our town as a whole; I should explain that though it has a de facto Ayuntamiento, it has no calde."

"Silk talk!" Oreb proclaimed.

He smiled. "Yes, that's what we want, but I really ought to explain the situation there to the calde before we get to that. If I don't make that clear, he won't understand why we need his cooperation as badly as we do."

"Explain away." Bison's eyes were guarded still.

"I've been gone for some time now. I must tell you that. My information may not be current; and in fact, if a lander has arrived lately from that part of Blue-"

Bison shook his head.

"Very well then. Originally we saw no need of a government of any kind. We left you and General Mint behind to fight the Trivigauntis when we went down into the tunnels. You may have regarded that as a desertion, though I hope you did not."

Bison shrugged. "I doubt that your group included a dozen fighting men. I thought you were, well, signally courageous."

"My father remained behind to fight. I should mention that-I must. I also ought to mention that we fought Trivigauntis ourselves down in the tunnels. You spoke of fighting men. We had fighting women down there, a lot of them. And fighting boys and even a few fighting girls. Almost everyone who could hold a slug gun fought. If they hadn't, we would never have made it to the landers."

"I can imagine."

"We were three days in the tunnels, or about that. Then three weeks on the lander, very crowded, with sleepers mixed with us. They were confused for the most part; some very badly confused indeed, nearly insane. There was almost enough water-that was an enormous blessing-but little food. I've heard since of landers on which the situation was worse, but ours was bad enough. We didn't have an easy time of it."

"Yer stuck h'it, bucky. 'Tis ther thing."

"We all stuck it, Pig." He tried to put all that he felt into his voice, and could only hope he was succeeding. "There were some leaders among us, but if the rest hadn't supported them, it wouldn't have mattered; and more than half the time the people led them. So when we reached Blue, it was natural for us to govern ourselves. If there was something to be decided we met-all or most of us-and everyone who wanted to spoke before we voted on it. There were some of us, such as Marrow, who were heard with more attention than others; and if all of them spoke on the same side, the vote was largely a formality."

Bison said, "Nevertheless, you yourselves decided it, and not your leaders."

"Exactly. That was how we divided the land, for example. We agreed upon the farmsteads, less land for those with rich soil or a spring; and when all the parcels had been staked out, we drew lots. In time, the town grew. There were many other landers from here, particularly in the first few years."

Bison nodded.

"And landers from other cities-often places we'd never heard of-came down near us, and their people joined us." (It seemed best not mention that some had been forced to, and were bought and sold like cattle.) "Then too, there had been many children on the lander. I was one myself, if you like-I was only fifteen. Many more were born in the first few years."

"Your system became unworkable."

"Yes. There were too many people, and some farms were too far away. Some people abandoned theirs and became fishermen or traders or loggers, and often they were gone and missed the Assembly. Then too, in the beginning everyone had wanted to live near town. As it became crowded, and robberies, rapes, and riots increased, many who had once spoken wisely in the Assembly no longer wanted to live in town or even near it."

"Bad hole!" Oreb explained.

"We needed a calde, and everyone saw it. I cannot say how many wealthy and powerful men wanted the office. Eight or ten, perhaps. Possibly even more."

Bison nodded, looking from Hound to Pig. "You didn't hold an election?"

"It would've meant anarchy, a worse anarchy than we endured already-open warfare among those eight or ten factions. In the end, someone would have been calde over…"

"Ruins," Bison completed the thought for him. "As I am, and as my wife was before me, and Patera Silk-if I may say it-was before her."

He shook his head. "I've seen the destruction, but I've also seen that most of Viron survived its war with Trivigaunte. I doubt that a single house in New Viron would survive the war against ourselves that threatens it."

He paused to draw breath. "I said I'd have to describe conditions in New Viron, and now I have. There is no unity and no sanity, or at least very little; but there is enough for five of our most powerful citizens to ask that you send Silk to us. The people will welcome him, and all five have sworn to support him."

Hound coughed apologetically. "He… From what you say. The others will still be stronger than Calde Silk, won't they?"

"No. In the first place, they could never oppose him as a block, and each would fear the others' treachery at least as much as the calde. In the second, thousands who are committed to no one at present would flock to him. His supporters will be united, and far more numerous than theirs."

He turned back to Bison. "That is to say, they will be if you'll let us have him. That's why I'm here. I'm hoping you'll tell me where he is, and help me persuade him to go."

"You'll want a lander, too. Or do you have one?"

Oreb added his own inquiry. "Thing fly?"

"That's right, the thing that flies between whorls. No, I haven't got one, and we'll have to have one. Surely-"

Bison raised a hand. "Surely I have a dozen I'm not using at the moment. Is that what you were going to say? Well, I don't. When Silk himself was calde, he sent off everyone who could be persuaded to go. It used to be that when a man was convicted, he was thrown into the pits." Bison laughed. "I used to think it was going to happen to me eventually. But when Silk took over they were given their choice, the landers or execution. I can't remember any choosing execution."

"If"

Bison's hand went up again. "Just a moment. You've asked for this, and I'm not through.

"The convicts were only a small part of what we sent. Most were manual laborers of one sort or another. Laborers and their families. Carpenters and masons, and small farmers and farm laborers. Something was said a while ago about me being calde over ruins. That's an exaggeration, but there's truth in it, and the truth is there because Silk sent out every lander he could patch up enough to fly. Not many came back, and when they they did he filled them up and sent them off again."

Bison leaned back, red-faced and scowling, then chuckled. "Well, I've got that off my chest, and I've been wanting to for a long time."

Hound ventured, "If there's no lander, Silk and Horn can't go to Blue, can they?"

Bison consulted a slim gold watch. "If they go, they'll have to get one someplace else, that's all. I may be able to help with that. Or they can wait until I have one, though I don't know when that may be."