Jack Vance - Planet of Adventure

The Immaculate's head hung askew; his body thrashed and floundered, then lay still.

Reith rose to his feet. He stood shaking and panting. "I am vindicated," he said.

"The charges of the fat sub-man are invalid," intoned the Excellent. "He may therefore be held to account."

Reith turned away. "Halt!" said the Excellent, its voice taking on a throaty vibrato. "Are there further charges?"

A Dirdir of the Elite caste, effulgences rigid and sparkling with crystal coruscations, spoke: "Does the beast still call dr'ssa?"

Reith swung around, half-intoxicated by fatigue and the aftermath of struggle.

"I am a man, you are the beast."

"Do you demand arbitration?" the Excellent asked. "If not, let us be away."

Reith's heart sank. "What are the new charges?"

The Elite stepped forward. "I charge that you and your henchmen trespassed upon the Dirdir Hunting Preserve and there treacherously slaughtered members of the Thisz Sept."

"I deny the charge," said Reith in a hoarse voice.

The Elite turned to the Excellent. "I request that you arbitrate. I request that you give me this beast and his henchmen and mark him exclusive quarry of the Thisz."

"I accept the onus of arbitration," fluted the Excellent. To Reith, in a tone nasal and coarse: "You trespassed in the Carabas, this is true."

"I entered the Carabas. No one ordered me not to do so."

"The proscription is general knowledge. You furtively assaulted several Dirdir; this is true."

"I assaulted no one who did not attack me first. If the Dirdir wish to act like wild beasts then they must suffer the consequences."

From the crowd came a murmur of wonder and what seemed muted approval. The Excellent turned to glance around the plaza. Instantly the sound was muted.

"It is Dirdir tradition to hunt. It is sub-man tradition and his essential character to serve as quarry."

"I am no sub-man," said Reith. "I am a man and quarry to no one. If a wild beast attacks me I will kill it."

The bone-white face of the Excellent showed no quiver of feeling. But the effulgences began to glow, and to become rigid. "The verdict must adhere to tradition," the creature intoned. "I find against the sub-man. This farrago is now at an end. You must be taken to the Glass Cage."

"I challenge the arbitration!" cried Reith. Stepping forward, he buffeted the Excellent on the side of the head. The skin was cold and somewhat flexible, like tortoiseshell; Reith's hand stung from the blow. The Excellent's effulgences stood like hot wires; it vented a thin whistle. The crowd stood in unbelieving silence.

The Excellent reached its great arms to the front in a clutching, ripping gesture. It vented a gurgling scream and poised to leap.

"A moment," said Reith, stepping back. "What are the rules of combat?"

"There are no rules. I kill as I choose."

"And if I kill you, I am vindicated, and my friends as well?"

"That is the case."

"Let us fight with swords."

"We will fight as we stand."

"Very well," said Reith.

The fight was no contest. The Excellent came forward, swift and massive as a tiger. Reith took two quick steps back; the Excellent launched itself. Reith seized the horny wrist, planted a foot in the torso; falling backwards he threw the creature in a sprawling somersault. It landed on its neck, to lie in a daze.

Instantly Reith was upon it, locking the taloned arms. The Excellent writhed and thrashed; Reith banged its head against the pavement until the bone cracked and whitish-green ichor began to exude. He panted: "What of the arbitration? Was it right or wrong?"

The Excellent keened-a weird wailing sound, expressing no emotion known to human experience. Reith banged down the harsh white head again and again. "What of the arbitration?" He slammed the head against the pavement. The Dirdir made a great effort to dislodge Reith and failed. "You are the victor. My arbitration is refuted."

"And I, with my friends, are now held guiltless? We may pursue our activities without persecution?"

"This is the case."

Reith called to Anacho, "Can I trust it?"

Anacho said, "Yes, it is tradition. If you want a trophy, pluck out his effulgences."

"I want no trophy." Reith rose to his feet and stood swaying.

The crowd regarded him with awe. Erlius turned on his heel and strode hastily away. Aila Woudiver backed slowly toward his black car.

Reith pointed a finger: "Woudiver-your charges were false and you now must answer to me."

Woudiver snatched out his power-gun: Traz leaped forward, hung on the vast wrist. The gun discharged, scorching Woudiver's leg. He bawled in agony and fell to the ground. Anacho took the gun; Reith tied one of the chains around Woudiver's neck and gave it a harsh tug. "Come, Woudiver." He led the way to the black car, through the hastily retreating onlookers.

Woudiver hulked himself within and lay groaning in a heap. Anacho started the vehicle and they departed the oval plaza.

THEY DROVE TO the shed. The technicians, in the absence of Deine Zarre, had not reported for work. The shed felt dead and abandoned; the space-boat, which had seemed on the verge of coming alive, lay desolate on its chocks.

The three marshaled Woudiver within, as they might lead a cantankerous bull, and tied him between two posts, Woudiver making a continual moaning complaint.

Reith watched him a moment. Woudiver was not yet expendable. Certainly he was still dangerous. For all his display and expostulation, he watched Reith with a clever and hard gaze.

"Woudiver," said Reith, "you have worked great harm upon me and my friends."

Woudiver's great body became racked with sobbing; he seemed a monstrous and ugly baby. "You plan to torment me, and kill me."

"The thought has presented itself," Reith admitted. "But I have more urgent desires. To finish the ship and return to Earth with news of this hellish planet I would even forgo the pleasure of your death."

"In that case," said Woudiver, suddenly businesslike, "all is as before. Pay over the money, and we will proceed."

Reith's jaw hung in disbelief. He laughed in admiration for Woudiver's wonderful insouciance.

Anacho and Traz were less amused. Anacho poked the great belly with a stick.

"What of last night?" he demanded in a suave voice. "Do you recall your conduct?

What of the electric probes, and the wicked harness?"

"What of Deine Zarre, the two children?" spoke Traz.

Woudiver looked appealingly toward Reith. "Whose words carry weight?"

Reith chose his words carefully. "All of us have cause for resentment. You would be a fool to expect ease and conviviality."

"Indeed, he shall suffer," said Traz through gritted teeth.

"You shall live," said Reith, "but only to serve our interests. I don't care a bice for your life unless you make yourself useful."

Again in Woudiver's eyes Reith discerned a cold and crafty glint. "So it shall be," said Woudiver.

"I want you to hire a competent replacement for Deine Zarre, at once."

"Expensive, expensive," said Woudiver. "We were lucky in Zarre."

"The responsibility for his absence is yours," said Reith.

"No one goes through life without making mistakes," Woudiver admitted. "This was one of mine. But I know just the man. He will come high, I warn you."

"Money is no object," said Reith. "We want the best. Secondly, I want you to summon the technicians back to work. All by telephone, of course."

"No difficulties whatever," declared Woudiver heartily. "The work will proceed with dispatch."

"You must arrange immediate delivery of the materials and supplies yet needed.

And you must pay all costs and salaries incurred henceforth."

"What?" roared Woudiver.

"Further," said Reith, "you will remain tied between those posts. For your sustenance you must pay a thousand-or better, two thousand sequins each day."