Planet of Adventure

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE DARK LAND passed astern. Reith sat staring ahead, visions flitting across his inner eye: faces, twisted in passion, horror, pain. The shapes of Blue Chasch, Wankh, Pnume, Phung, Green Chasch, Dirdir, all leaped upon the stage of his imagination, to stand, turn, perform a gesture and leap away.

The night passed. The sky-car slid south and when Carina 4269 rose into the east the spires of Hei glistened far ahead.

Without incident Reith landed the sky-car, though it seemed that a passing party of Dirdirmen scrutinized him with suspicious intensity as he departed the field with his sack of sequins.

Reith went first to his room at the Ancient Realm. Neither Traz nor Anacho were on the premises, but Reith thought nothing of this; they often passed the nights at the shed.

Reith stumbled to his couch, threw the bag of sequins against the wall, stretched out and almost immediately slept.

He awoke to a hand on his shoulder. He rolled over to find Traz standing above him.

Traz spoke in a husky voice: "I was afraid you'd come here. Hurry, we must leave. The apartment is now dangerous."

Reith, still torpid, swung himself to a sitting position. The time was early afternoon, or so he judged by the shadows outside the window.

"What's the trouble?"

"The Dirdir took Anacho into custody. I was out buying food, or they would have taken me as well."

Reith was now fully awake. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. It was Woudiver's doing. He came to the shed, and asked questions about you. He wanted to know if you claimed to come from another world; he persisted and would not accept evasion. I refused to speak, as did Anacho.

Woudiver began to reproach Anacho as a renegade. 'You, a former Dirdirman, how can you live like a subman among sub-men?"' Anacho became provoked and said that Bifold Genesis was a myth. Woudiver went away. Yesterday morning the Dirdir came here to the rooms and took Anacho. If they force him to talk, we are not safe and the ship is not safe."

Reith's fingers were numb as he pulled on his boots. All at once the structure of his life, contrived at such cost, had collapsed. Woudiver, always Woudiver.

Traz touched his arm. "Come; best that we leave! The rooms may be watched."

Reith picked up the bundle of sequins. They departed the building. Through the alleys of Sivishe they walked, ignoring the pale faces looking forth from doorways and odd-shaped windows.

Reith became aware that he was ravenously hungry; at a small restaurant they ate boiled sea-thrush and spore-cake. Reith began to think more clearly. Anacho was in Dirdir custody; Woudiver would certainly be expecting some sort of reaction from him. Or would he be so assured of Reith's essential helplessness that he would expect matters to go on as before? Reith grinned a ghastly grin. If Woudiver reckoned as much, he would be right. Unthinkable to jeopardize the ship for any circumstance whatever! Reith's hate for Woudiver was like a tumor in his brain, and he must ignore it; he must make the best of an agonizing dilemma.

Reith asked Traz, "You have not seen Woudiver?"

"I saw him this morning. I went to the shed; I thought you might have gone there. Woudiver arrived and went into his office."

"Let's see if he's still there."

"What do you intend to do?"

Reith gave a strangled laugh, "I could kill him but it would do no good. We need information. Woudiver is the only source."

Traz said nothing; as usual Reith was unable to read his thoughts.

They rode the creaking six-wheeled public carrier out to the construction yard, and every turn of the wheels wound the tension tighter. When Reith arrived at the yard and saw Woudiver's black car the blood surged through his brain and he felt lightheaded. He stood still, drew a deep breath and became quite calm.

He thrust the pouch of sequins upon Traz. "Take it into the shed and hide it."

Traz took the sack dubiously. "Don't go alone. Wait for me."

"I expect no trouble. We can't afford the luxury, as Woudiver well knows. Wait for me by the shed."

Reith went to Woudiver's eccentric stone office and entered. With his back to the charcoal brazier stood Artilo, legs splayed, arms behind his back. He examined Reith without change of expression.

"Tell Woudiver I want to see him," said Reith.

Artilo sauntered to the inner door, thrust his head in, spoke. He backed away.

The door swung aside with a wrench that almost tore it from its hinges. Woudiver expanded into the room: a glaring-eyed Woudiver with great upper lip folded down over his mouth. He looked across the room with the unfocused all-seeing glare of a wrathful god, then seemed to catch sight of Reith, and his malevolence concentrated itself.

"Adam Reith," spoke Woudiver in a voice like a bell. "You have returned. Where are my sequins?"

"Never mind your sequins," said Reith. "Where is the Dirdirman?"

Woudiver hunched his shoulders. For a moment Reith thought he was about to strike out. If so Reith knew that his selfcontrol would dissolve, for better or worse.

Woudiver spoke in a throbbing voice: "Do you think to fatigue me with wrangling?

Think again! Give me my money and depart."

"You shall have your money," said Reith, "as soon as I see Ankhe at afram Anacho."

"You wish to see the blasphemer, the renegade?" roared Woudiver. "Go to the Glass Box, you will see him clearly enough."

"He is in the Glass Box?"

"Where else?"

"You are certain?"

Woudiver leaned back against the wall. "Why do you wish to know?"

"Because he is my friend. You betrayed him to the Dirdir; you must answer to me."

Woudiver began to swell, but Reith said in a weary voice, "No more drama, no more shouting. You gave Anacho to the Dirdir; now I want you to save him."

"Impossible," said Woudiver. "Even if I wished I could do nothing. He is in the Glass Box, do you hear?"

"How can you be sure?"

"Where else should he be sent? He was taken for his old crimes; the Dirdir will learn nothing of your project, if that is your worry." And Woudiver showed his mouth in a gigantic sneer. "Unless, of course, he himself reveals your secrets."

"In which case," said Reith, "you would likewise find yourself in difficulties."

Woudiver had no comment to make.

Reith asked in a gentle voice, "Can money buy Anacho's escape?"

"No," intoned Woudiver. "He is in the Glass Box."

"So you say. How can I be sure?"

"As I informed you-go look."

"Anyone who wishes can watch?"

"Certainly. The Box holds no secrets."

"What is the procedure?"

"You cross to Hei, you walk to the Box, you climb to the upper gallery which overlooks the fields."

"Could a person lower a rope, or a ladder?"

"Certainly, but he could not hope for long life; he would be thrust at once down upon the field ... If you plan anything of this nature I myself will come to watch."

"Suppose I were to offer you a million sequins," said Reith, "could you arrange that Anacho escape?"

Woudiver darted his great head forward. "A million sequins? And you have been crying poverty to me for three months? I have been deceived!"

"Could you arrange the escape for a million sequins?"

Woudiver showed a dainty pink tip of tongue. "No, I fear not ... a million sequins ... I fear not. There is nothing to be done. Nothing. So you have gained a million sequins?"

"No," said Reith. "I only wanted to learn if Anacho's escape was possible."

"It is not possible," said Woudiver crossly. "Where is my money?"

"In due course," said Reith. "You betrayed my friend; you can wait."

Again Woudiver seemed on the verge of swinging his great arm. But he said, "You misuse language. I did not 'betray': I exposed a criminal to his just deserts.

What loyalty do I owe you or yours? You have given none to me, and would do worse if opportunity offered. Bear in mind, Adam Reith, that friendship must work in two directions. Do not expect what you are unwilling to give. If you find my attributes distasteful, remember that I feel the same about yours. Which of us is correct? By the standards of this time and this place, it is certainly I. You are the interloper; your protests are ludicrous and unrealistic. You blame me for inordinacy. Do not forget, Adam Reith, that you chose me as a man who would perform illegal acts for pay. This is your expectation of me; you care nothing for my security or prospects. You came here to exploit me, to urge me to dangerous acts for trifling sums; you must not complain if my conduct seems merely a mirror of your own."

Reith could find no answer. He turned and left the office.

In the shed, work was proceeding at its usual pace: a haven of normalcy after the Carabas and the mind-twisting colloquy with Woudiver. Traz waited just inside the portal. "What did he say?"

"He said Anacho was a criminal, that I came here to exploit him. How can I argue?"

Traz curled his lip. "And Anacho?"

"In the Glass Box. Woudiver says it's easy to get in but impossible to get out."

Reith walked back and forth across the shed. Halting in the doorway, he looked across the water toward the great gray shape. He spoke to Traz: "Will you ask Deine Zarre to step out here?"

Deine Zarre appeared. Reith asked, "Have you ever visited the Glass Box?"

"Long ago."

"Woudiver tells me that a man might lower a rope from the upper gallery."

"Should he care so little for his life."

"I want two quantities of high-potency battarache-enough, say, to destroy this shed ten times over. Where can I get it in a hurry?"

Deine Zarre reflected a moment, then gave a slow fateful nod. "Wait here."

He returned in something over an hour with two clay pots. "Here is battarache; here are fuses. It is contraband material; please do not reveal where you obtained it."

"The subject will never arise," said Reith. "Or so I hope."