Starquest scourge of the.., p.19
Starquest: Scourge of the Spaceways, page 19
Clytemnestra then smiled and purred, "In my bedchamber, we can seal the bargain with the loveplay."
"Not so. In the bridge chamber, you will dismount and duplicate the passkey circuit which will allow me to slip through the planetary field."
"But, how can this be? No loveplay? Am I to be shamed before my officers? It is the way of the Sirens."
"My folk have their own way." Athos said, "My mother told me that she would have waited for the wedding bed to stab my dad with her knife, had she ever heard of him sporting in a siren's arms. You cannot have me go against the word of my own mother, can you, Captain? No, I thought not. Now, make lively, lass! I hope to make planetfall before the solar flare dies down, while radios are still deaf. Space traffic control of Noctua will not shoot down the Devil's Delight if we are escorting treasure ship to berth, all right and proper, as expected."
2. The Denizens of Middle Heaven
The flotilla of three ships now sailing under the banner of the Knave of Spades assumed orbit around Noctua: the Iss-designed armed merchantman Dog-Faced Fortune, looking like a metallic centipede, the Ellyll barge Fame's Fortune, round and shining as a yuletide ornament, and the Hominid-built fifty-gun light cruiser, Devil's Delight, streamlined for descent into atmosphere, and sharklike with fins and flukes of electronic warfare and weapon platforms.
Multitudes of ships from the treasure fleet were here circling the world, as well as artificial hyperatomic lamps like miniature suns. Space traffic control assigned each ship first a high orbit, then middle, then low, before permitting landing.
Ominously, one orbital zone was set aside for the molten hailstorm of debris from a ship that had defied space traffic control, and had been transfixed by three beams, bright as a nova burst, issuing from the artificial suns. The ship's shields had no opportunity to swell and overload: the whole vessel was instantly snuffed out as quickly as a candleflame pinched between finger and thumb. Black robotic locust-pods with nets and claws moved among the wreckage, methodically gathering flotsam to melt down and skim out the gold.
Athos found it both boring and tense to sit in the captain's chair as the watches crawled by, waiting to see whether the ground station would grant him permission to land, or would smite him instantly dead, him and all his accursed pirate crew, with a single overwhelming glance of fire from the nearest of the hooded orbital suns.
He retired to his cabin to remove his boots. Tisquantum silently followed him. The feather-bonneted savage, fearsome war-paint gleaming on his scarred face, stood by the hatch, spear in hand.
On his comdisc, Athos summoned Pip, the cabin boy, to fetch two k-ration meat-rolls and two bulbs of grog from the galley, double time. When the watered-down spirits arrived, and the hatch was shut, Athos offered Tisquantum use of the washbasin to cleanse his warpaint, and gestured toward a chair. "Sit! Rest. Once we land, there will be hard duty and long watches."
The savage accepted the bulb of alcohol with relish, and puzzled a moment over how to unwrap the meat-roll without burning his fingers on the self-heating foil. Then he made the ritual sign of the fourfold star, and chanted a short phrase in his native tongue. "Thou didst create bread for the food of man and wine for drink so that bread might strengthen the body and wine rejoice the heart …"
Athos, who had merely begun guzzling the bulb without any preliminary, now felt mildly awkward, as if he were the savage, and Tisquantum were refined. He reflected how odd and strict it must be to adorn every little act with a tincture of ceremony! As if all of life were a magical rite, and all things haunted with wonder.
It was hard to see amid his scarred face, but Tisquantum wore a puzzled look. Athos addressed him in the language of the tribe. "Brother, if you have questions, ask of me."
Tisquantum touched his fingers to his heart then to his lips, and turned his palm toward Athos. Athos was not sure what this gesture meant. Another little ceremony, perhaps. The world of the savage was full of magic.
The savage said, "Many sleeps it has been since leaving the ground, to dwell here in the middle of heaven. Much of what I see is as the fathers spoke of old: in heaven there is meat, but no game to chase, no shed blood. Fire without smoke." He held up the meatroll in its wrapper. "In heaven, living water comes forth at command from the dry rock." He nodded toward the tap of the washbasin. "So those who dwell in heaven have meat without blood, fire without smoke, water without stream. This is as was told."
Athos said, "Not quite. The water is carried in a tank, like a large bucket, on another deck. It comes from a stream. And the meat is from a game animal, but it is cut and packed and kept on ice. All the things on this ship are earthly. We are men no different from you."
Tisquantum nodded solemnly, but said, "Not all, Keen-Eyed Hunting-Cat. On earth, only men have power of speech. In heaven, there are many. Some I know. Some I know not. Great Whale, him we know is the constellation Cetus; and lizard is the constellation Lacerta. Lion is Leo. Fox is Vulpecula. Horse is Equuleus. Sword Fish is Dorado. Peacock-Man is Pavo. Some are constellations I do not know, for they are not recited in the Great Chant: Stag-man and Spider and Toad and Siren."
Athos held up his hand. "Wait. You think the men aboard this ship are the constellations? No, no, my friend! We don't look like constellations. We move and talk."
"Shall the things of heaven seem to the eyes of heaven as they seem to eyes of earth? The fish in the river sees men as shadows through the water, which is the sky to him."
It was a surprisingly subtle argument. Athos reminded himself not to assume illiterate worlds or ancient peoples lacked wisdom.
Athos said, "Constellations are patterns of stars as seen from a given planet. In fact, no two worlds see the exact same constellations. We just call them all by the same names, as much as we can, for the sake of tradition. The names come from some mythical world called Eden or Earth or Tempe. It does not really exist, but men would like to think they have a common ancestor. It makes us all brothers."
Tisquantum looked stubborn. "All men are brothers. The Earth is our mother. The Sky is our father. Who is not under the sky? Who does not walk on the earth?"
Athos said, "There are many earths."
Tisquantum nodded. "It is many places, but earth is earth. Is it not underfoot?"
Athos said, "The worlds are round."
"All around, yes. Mother Earth embraces us, as a mother embraces her babe."
Athos licked his lips, wondering how to explain this. "The crew and creatures around you are not angels, not spirits. We are among the stars, but we are not stars. We are among the constellations, but we are not constellations. Understand?"
The savage nodded. "Once, we were stars. We danced in heaven with bodies of fire. Then the first father turned away, he fell, and now his body is earth. We fell with him. We are earth."
Athos said, "When a man climbs a mountain, he is closer to heaven, but he is not more heavenly. We sail through heaven, but we are not heaven-creatures. We who build these flying ships, these star-ships, we are still men of earth. We are not spirits. We have brought all our sins and crimes into space, among the stars, with us."
Tisquantum laughed, throwing his head back and slapping his knee. "Do I think these evil men are good spirits? No, it was said of old that in the lower heaven are devils of storm and thunder, and in the middle heaven are evil stars who send curses, bad fates, evil dreams. Only in highmost heaven sits the Highmost."
"The Highmost?" Athos was puzzled. This sounded like the type of mystic mumbling in which Uncle Jaywind indulged. This unlettered savage from a stone-age planet should not know it. "Tell me of this Highmost."
Tisquantum said, "Then you will tell me of the men of middle heaven?"
"Yes."
"The Most High is most high, because none is above him. He is long of days, and has no father, no mother, for there was never a time when he was not. The firmament is his sitting blanket. His wigwam is golden light. Men would go blind to see such light. In his hand is the peace-pipe. The incense of this pipe is sweet, and all who breathe it in will never die. Before him sits his scribe whose scroll is written with life and death, but the scroll is rolled and sealed, and none can read it.
"To his right is the White Tree. Life grows from this tree as ripe olives, and the leaves are medicines to heal all wounds, dry all tears. His son hangs on this tree, and dies, and so can never die. The blood of his five wounds is a rushing river to cleanse all wounds away, seen and unseen.
"To the left of the Highmost is the Black Tree. Pride is its root. Dreams hang from its twigs like apples of gold, and many false promises. Death is in the branches like a serpent. The tooth of the serpent is fire. In the belly of the serpent is fire. To him are fed all evildoers, cowards, adulterers, kin-slayers, oath-breakers, thief and liar and rune-maker. All burn forever in the belly of the serpent. In the end, the serpent will tear up the black tree by the roots. The tree will burn. The serpent will tear himself. He will swallow himself. He will burn. Death will die."
Tisquantum gestured to the steel deck and bulkhead of the cabin around him, as if to encompass the whole ship. "Do I think this place, Delight of the Devil, is highmost heaven, where all is joy and good? I do not. This is a ship of woe. This is a ship of evil-workers. The Tree of Death is hungry for them. The serpent opens its mouth of fire, and is hungry for them."
Athos nodded. "This is a hunger I know."
Tisquantum said, "All men are hunted by the Serpent of the Tree of Death. It bit the first father, and all his children have the venom in our veins."
Athos said, "Let me answer your question now."
Tisquantum touched his ear and beckoned with his hand. "Tell me."
Athos said, "There is a nursery rhyme we learn to remember all the races.
"A is for Arachnids. Anarchists we hate.
B is for Blue Men. Homeless pilgrims, sad but free.
C is for Ceti. Whales who forecast fate.
D is for Duck. Crass and brazen, fond and funny.
"E is from Elnath. Harsh Horned Men of Gremlin luck.
F is for Frog. Puffed up with many lies.
G is Gallimaufry. These Phalangers, extinction struck.
H is for Horse. Cold and rational and wise.
"I is for the ancient Iss. Snakes in agelong slumber.
J is Jellyfishy Kragen. Living islands, each his own.
Kang-Mi are Hibagon. Gone are secrets without number.
L is Longpipe Scolopendra. Ever nameless, never alone.
"M is Men of honey tongue. Beware their wiles.
N is Nemean. Lords majestic, lions bold.
O is Ophidian. Imposters full of guile.
P is Peacock-men of Pavo, proud and deadly foes of old.
"Q is Qilin, long extinct. Their labyrinths still stand.
R is Ralline, white of wing. Heavenly in flight.
S is Swampmen, full of lust. Ambiguous of sea or land.
T is Talpine, gold in memory, blind but filled with light.
"U is Under-dwellers, Urnain hid from highest day.
V is for Vulpino. Foxes cunning, quick and vain.
W is the Walrus-men. Slow to anger, swift to slay.
X is Xiphian. Polite, deadly, of honor code arcane.
Y is from Ys, Ellyll nymphs whose songs are wine.
Z is Zibeline and Weasels, whose frenzy is sublime."
The scarred face of Tisquantum crinkled in thought. "Some of these I know. Some I do not."
Athos spread his hands. "Unfortunately. Each race has a name and nickname, and these are just the starfaring races that are full members of civilization. Those who learned how to fly from star to star. Prestarflight races, younger, like babies who have not learned to walk, there are hundreds of them, and mostly we leave them alone. Mostly."
From the look in his eye, Athos could tell the savage had no idea what he meant. Tisquantum said, "Which race is oldest?"
"The Ceti and the Iss are ancient races, and they are like the wise old graybeards in your tribe. Whales and Lizard-men. They know things other races are too young to know.
"The elder races are like your veteran warriors, battle-leaders scarred from many battles. The Horses who are wisest, the Lions who are bravest, the Foxes who are most cunning. The Blue Men, called Sphingali, are like a shamed and maimed warrior, for their home was destroyed, and they wander from place to place. Their great days are behind them, but they remember many old and secret things. Many witch-doctors come from that race.
"The major races are like fully grown men, married braves, who have seen battle. Horned Men, Winged Men, Swamp-men, Humans. The Winged Men are a race of priests. The Swamp-men, Devonians, have fish faces and are full of lust. No one has seen the females of this race…"
Athos frowned in thought. He was reminded of Niobe, and her quest to discover the unanswered enigmas of history. But there was no need to confuse Tisquantum further.
"The younger races act as servants of the major races, but they were recently released from this service, and much old anger remains. They are like young braves, bachelors. They are the Longpipes, the Swordfish, the Spiders, the Walrus.
"The Longpipes or Scolopendra look like a nest of snakes or centipedes, in groups of four or five. When one centipede is alone, it cannot talk or think. They intertwine, like a braid, and form one mind, one soul. If one of the four or five dies or is exchanged to another nest, the mind is mostly the same, but not quite. They have no names: each is named by his task.
"Swordfish are Xiphians, fierce and unfriendly to other races. They have many rules and rituals outsiders do not understand, and they die before they will let their rituals be dishonored.
"The Spiders or Arachnids, have no chiefs, follow no law, form no tribe. Each stands alone.
"Walrus-Men are Odobenine. Their wives run their tribes, and so they are slow to enter war, but the men run the wars, so they fight without pity.
"Younger than the young are infant races. They are like young boys. Fuliguline, called Ducks, Mustelids called Zibeline and there are several tribes of them: Weasels, Otters, Sables, and so on. The Ellyll are mermaids, but they can walk on land.
"The Kragen are living islands floating on the sea, and the other fish and sea-worms and serpents who surround them are their hunting hawks and hounds and pets. Imagine if each tribe was one man who owned and trained dozens of dogs and hawks and horses. They live alone from each other. They are too big to enter ships of ours. They have ships of their own which are giant, large as an island.
"Four races fought against the galaxy and killed many worlds of people, but they surrendered long ago, and lived for a time as servants, and then were freed. The Pavo are peacock-winged men, and filled with deadly pride. They worship devils. The Urnain live in caves far below ground, and have magic wands. The Batrachians are Frogs, and they are a deceitful race, full of bitterness. They make weapons of war, but prefer to stab in the back, and not to face any foe. The Ophidians are called Chameleons. They are walking snakes. The witch-doctors among them can steal the shape of a man, his face and voice, and kill his family. They are living devils."
Tisquantum said, "And yet these evil ones are among you? You have joined them to your tribe?"
Athos said, "There was a war. In order for the war not to last forever, we accepted the surrender of these enemy races. They lived for many years as servants, then as hirelings, and now as equals. Our laws do not punish the sons for the deeds of the fathers."
"If the sons are loyal, they will follow the way of the father, and avenge him! Folly to let the sons of enemies live!"
Athos nodded, "It is a folly called mercy. A close friend of mine was a Frog, and he shed his life to save me, and save his men. An evil man with ten sons will have nine evil sons, and the tenth son will be wise and brave, and will leave his dark father to seek the light of heaven. So we have made our laws."
Tisquantum rose to his feet, and nodded his head. "Many things in middle heaven are strange. But honor and dishonor, brave and craven, these things do not change."
And with no more words, he took his leave.
3. Beneath the Black Sun
Galactic Year 12821, Noctua
On the surface of a gray world was a public house. It was a three story affair, with private rooms on the top floor, cots and bunks on the second, and the common room below. No windows pierced the gray walls, but the wide front door stood open, to allow a wedge of leaping firelight to spill out across the snowy road, along with a cacophony of loud voices, laughter, drinking songs, a shrill and wheezing concertina, a cloud of weed-smoke and beer fumes.
A sign above the door displayed a fleshless human skull with an upended beer bottle thrust through lipless jaws. It was not a holographic sign, nor ablaze with neon light, but carven into the stone above the door, and crusted with frost.
The words read: THE THIRSTY MAW. In smaller print: Thurston Mawe, Prop.
Directly above, with his black boots crossed on the railing of the balcony of the penthouse suite, Athos was dressed as Captain Rackstraw, looking splendid in his long coat, lace cuffs, and tricornered hat. A playing card protruded from his hatbrim. He overlooked the broad, snowy, lamp-lit boulevard beneath the black sky of Noctua. The coat thermostat was at its highest setting: it was below freezing here. His breath came in white plumes.
At his right elbow, balanced on the balcony rail, was a bottle of whiskey. It was more full than it should have been, for he put the bottle-mouth to his mouth more often than he actually drank from it.
To his left were two stained tables of battered aluminum on which were bottles and mugs, drinking jacks and drinking bowls, empty or half-empty, of his pirates at their drink.
At the far table were the women. Here was Captain Clytemnestra, luminous in her beauty, swathed in an oversized coat of fine white fur, and puffing a crystal hookah, or sipping from a crystal wineglass.
Ensign Ephyra, First Mate of the Dog-Faced Fortune, looked wan and slight next to her. She gave the voluptuous Clytemnestra stony looks over the brim of her wine-bowl as she drank.
