Jack Vance - Planet of Adventure

Dordolio tugged angrily at his mustache. "Are you, by any farfetched chance, a member of the 'cult'?"

"Probably not. Which 'cult' is this?"

"The Yearning Refluxives who rode up the cycle to destroy our two gorgeous cities."

"But I understood that an unknown agency torpedoed the cities."

"No matter; the 'cult' instigated the attack; they are the cause."

Reith shook his head. "Incomprehensible! An enemy destroys your cities; your bitterness is directed not against the cruel enemy but against a possibly sincere and thoughtful group of your own people. A displaced emotion, or so it seems."

Dordolio gave Reith a cold inspection. "Your analyses at times border upon the mordant."

Reith laughed. "Let it pass. I know nothing of your 'cult.' As for my place of origin, I prefer to be amnesiac."

"A curious lapse, when otherwise you seem so emphatic in your opinions."

"I wonder why you trouble to press the point," Reith mused. "For instance, what would you say if I claimed origin from a far world?"

Dordolio pursed his lips, blinked up at the lantern. "I had not taken my thoughts quite so far. Well, we will not pursue the subject. A frightening idea, to begin with: an ancient world of men!"

"'Frightening'? How so?"

Dordolio gave an uneasy laugh. "There is a dark side to humanity, which is like a stone pressed into the mold. The upper side, exposed to sun and air, is clean; tilt it and look below, at the muck and scurrying insects ... We of Yao know this well; nothing will put an end to awaile. But enough of such talk!" Dordolio gave his shoulders a jerk and a shake, and resumed his somewhat condescending tone of voice. "You are resolved to come to Cath; what will you do there?"

"I don't know. I must exist somewhere; why not in Cath?"

"Not too simple for a stranger," said Dordolio. "Affiliation with a palace is difficult."

"Odd that you should say that! The Flower of Cath declares that her father will welcome us to Blue Jade Palace."

"He would necessarily show formal courtesy, but you could no more take up residence at the Blue Jade Palace than you could on the bottom of the Draschade, merely because a fish invited you to swim."

"What would prevent me?"

Dordolio shrugged. "No man cares to make a fool of himself. Deportment is the definition of life. What does a nomad know of deportment?"

Reith had nothing to say to this. "A thousand details go into the conduct of a cavalier," stated Dordolio. "At the academy we learn degrees of address, signals, language configuration, in which I admit a deficiency. We take instruction in sword address and principles of dueling, genealogy, heraldry; we learn the niceties of costume and a hundred other details. Perhaps you consider these matters over-arbitrary?"

Anacho the Dirdirman, standing nearby, chose to reply. "'Trivial' is a word more apt."

Reith expected an icy retort, at the least a glare, but Dordolio gave only an indifferent shrug. "Well, then, is your life more significant? Or that of the merchant, or the swordsman? Never forget the Yao are a pessimistic race! Awaile is always a threat; we are perhaps more somber than we seem. Recognizing the essential pointlessness of existence, we exalt the small flicker of vitality at our command; we extract the fullest and most distinctive flavor from every incident, by insisting upon an appropriate formality. Trivality? Decadence? Who can do better?"

"All very well," said Reith. "But why be satisfied with pessimism? Why not expand your horizons? Further, it seems that you accept the destruction of your cities with a surprising nonchalance. Vengeance is not the most noble activity, but submissiveness is worse."

"Bah," muttered Dordolio. "How could a barbarian understand the disaster and its aftermath? The Refluxives in vast numbers took refuge in awaile; the acts and the expiations kept our land in a ferment. There was no energy for anything else. Were you of good caste, I would cut your heart out for daring so gross an imputation."

Reith laughed. "Since my low caste protects me from retribution, let me ask another question: what is awaile?"

Dordolio threw his hands in the air. "An amnesiac as well as a barbarian! I have no conversation for such as you! Ask the Dirdirman; he is glib enough." And Dordolio strode off in a rage.

"An unreasonable display of emotion," mused Reith. "I wonder what my imputation was?"

"Shame," said Anacho. "The Yao are as sensitive to shame as an eyeball to grit.

Mysterious enemies destroy their cities; they suspect the Dirdir but dare no recourse, and must cope with helpless rage and shame. It is their typical attribute and predisposes them to awaile."

"And this is?"

"Murder. The afflicted person-one who feels shame-kills as many persons as he is able, of any sex, age or degree of relationship. Then, when he is able to kill no more, he submits and becomes apathetic. His punishment is dreadful and highly dramatic, and enlightens the entire population, who crowd the place of punishment. Each execution has its particular flavor and style and is essentially a dramatic pageant of pain, possibly enjoyed even by the victim. The institution permeates the life of Cath. The Dirdir on this basis consider all sub-men mad."

Reith grunted. "So then, if we visit Cath, we risk insensate murder."

"Small risk. After all, the acts are not ordinary events." Anacho looked around the deck. "But it seems that the hour is late." He bade Reith goodnight and stalked off to his bunk.

Reith remained by the rail, looking out over the water. After the bloodletting at Pera, Cath had seemed a haven, a civilized environment where just possibly he might contrive to patch together a spaceboat. The prospect seemed ever more remote.

Someone came to stand beside him: Heizari, the older of Palo Barbar's orange-haired daughters. "You seem so melancholy. What troubles you?"

Reith looked down into the pale oval of the girl's face: an arch impudent face, at this moment alive with innocent-or not so innocent? coquetry. Reith restrained the first words that rose to his lips. The girl was unquestionably appealing. "How is it you are not in bed with your sister Edwe?"

"Oh, simple! She is not in bed either. She sits with your friend Traz on the quarterdeck, beguiling and provoking, teasing and tormenting. She is much more of a flirt than I"

Poor Traz, thought Reith. He asked, "What of your father and mother? Are they not concerned?"

"What's it to them? When they were young, they dallied as ardently as any; is that not their right?"

"I suppose so. Customs vary, as you know."

"What of you? What are the customs of your people?"

"Ambiguous and rather complicated," said Reith. "There's a great deal of variation."

"This is the case with Cloud Islanders," said Heizari, leaning somewhat closer.

"We are by no means automatically amorous. But on occasions a certain mood comes over a person, which I believe to be the consequence of natural law."

"No argument there," Reith obeyed his impulse and kissed the piquant face.

"Still, I don't care to antagonize your father, natural law or not. He is an expert swordsman."

"Have no fears on that score. If you require assurance, doubtless he is still awake."

"I don't know quite what I'd ask him," said Reith. "Well then, all things considered..." The two strolled forward and climbed the carved steps to the forepeak, and stood looking south across the sea. Az hung low in the west laying a line of amethyst prisms along the water. An orange haired girl, a purple moon, a fairytale cog on a remote ocean: would he trade it all to be back on Earth?

The answer had to be yes. And yet, why deny the attractions of the moment? Reith kissed the girl somewhat more fervently than before and now from the shadow of the anchor windlass, a person hitherto invisible jumped erect and departed in desperate haste. In the slanting moonlight Reith recognized Ylin-Ylan, the Flower of Cath ... His ardor was quenched; he looked miserably aft. And yet, why feel guilt? She had long since made it clear that the one-time relationship was at an end. Reith turned back to the orange-haired Heizari.