The Prisoner of Zhamanak

II FRUSTRATION

The road from Kalwm City to Mejvorosh in Zhamanak cut across the territory of another Khaldoni nation, Mutabwk. Here, nine days after leaving Kalwm City, Percy Mjipa and his retinue arrived at the border in a drizzling rain. They had had a long, hard ride on Mjipa's ten ay as. This mount wore its saddle over the middle pair of legs, so that the rider got the full jolt up his spine when the animal trotted. To cover a long distance fast, they had to trot most of the time.

They had escaped adventures save once when, having left the more cultivated parts and plunged into the tropical jungle, they were caught in the path of a herd of wild bishtars. Local hunters had stampeded the animals by fire. These creatures resembled a Terran tapir expanded to elephant size, with a short, bifurcated trunk and six columnar legs. Mjipa's Krishnans seemed on the verge of panicking and running witlessly into the path of the animals. Cursing and threatening, Mjipa gathered them into a clump behind the biggest nearby tree, a buttress-rooted monster eight or nine meters thick, and held them and the ayas while the herd thundered past on either side.

The border was marked by two parallel fences, a few meters apart and extending off into a forest of brilliantly-colored tree trunks on either side. Each fence had a gate where it crossed the road, and each gate was guarded by a squad of soldiers, whose naked torsos bore painted symbols. These, Mjipa supposed, indicated rank and unit. The pattern on the Kalwmians' hides was yellow; that on those of Mutabwk, blue.

Mjipa's party consisted of himself and six Kalwmians, mounted on seven of the ayas. Besides Minyev the factotum, Mjipa had hired two guards, two helpers, and a cook. The remaining beasts carried tents and other baggage.

When Mjipa's party approached, the soldiers of both nations were squatting in a circle in the neutral zone between the fences, playing the local variety of craps. At the sound of sixty hooves, someone yelled a command. The yellow-painted Krishnans scrambled up, took spears and shields from where they leaned against the fence, and formed up at their gate.

Mjipa picked out the Krishnan in command and handed over the passport signed by Minister Chanapar. The officer glanced it over and handed it back, saying: "Pass, sir."

Meanwhile the Mutabwcians had formed up on their side. Their officer blew a whistle, and more soldiers boiled out of a nearby hut.

Again Mjipa proffered his passport; but these Krishnans seemed more suspicious than the easy-going Kalwmians. The officer read the passport through twice, then snapped: "Wait here!"

For long minutes, Mjipa fidgeted on his aya, while the officer conferred in low tones with another. At last the first turned back saying: "By order of the Heshvavu, ye shall accompany us to the capital."

"Why?" said Mjipa. "My business is in Zhamanak."

"That matters not; commands are commands. Wait whilst we prepare your escort."

"Idiots! Masilo!" growled Mjipa in his native Terran tongues.

"What say ye?" barked the officer. "Nothing, General. How far is this capital?"

"Yein lies distant about a hundred regakit."

"What is that in hoda?"

"I know not; 'tis a day's journey at speed." The officer went off to supervise the preparation of the escort, leaving Mjipa and his party surrounded by blue-painted soldiers with spears leveled and crossbows cocked.

Mjipa dismissed any idea of trying to fight his way through. The Mutabwcians had a larger force at the border than at first appeared. These border guards seemed nervous and apprehensive, as did many Krishnans at their first sight of the towering black Terran. Perhaps they, too, thought Mjipa a demon. The consul was careful to make no sudden moves, lest a frightened soldier shoot or spear him in panic.

Krishnans led a string of ayas from some paddock or pasture. With much clatter and chatter, the Mutabwcians got saddled up, armed, and mounted. There were twelve in the escort. Each of Mjipa's party was linked to one rider by a rope around his aya's horns.

At last the junior officer in charge of the escort, named Spisov, shouted, "Go!" and waved his sword. The column set out on the road but soon reached a fork. There stood a battered wooden sign with two arrows, pointing right and left. Each arrow had a word incised in the wood. Mjipa could not read Khaldonian but inferred that one said "Yein" and the other "Mejvorosh."

The column took the left fork and speeded up to a gallop. They kept on until Mjipa worried lest his animals founder. To Spisov he called: "Should you not breathe these beasts?"

The officer, the sun flashing on his silvered helmet, let the column slow to a walk. The ayas plodded ahead, snorting and breathing heavily. Soon the officer brought the column up to a gallop again. When Mjipa protested, Spisov shouted: "We would fain not be on the road all night!"

On they went, with long gallops and short walks and trots. Roqir set; the light dimmed, so that the reds and greens and purples of the tree trunks faded to gray. At the next halt, the officer had some of his men light torches. On they galloped, the yellow flames streaming back with the wind of their passage.

The constellations had been wheeling overhead for hours when they reached the cultivated lands and then, at last, the capital city of Yein. Reeling in his saddle, Mjipa tried without success to memorize the route into the city, in case he should have to run for it. But his fatigue caused the city gates, wall, streets, and buildings to merge into a buzzing blur.

Before Mjipa could figure out where he was, the column pulled up before a large, boxlike building. In a tone a shade less hostile, the officer said: "Here we stop. Since 'tis too late to wait upon His Awesomeness, ye shall pass the night in the barracks."

Whether the accommodations were palatial or squalid, Mjipa did not know. So tired was he that he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the roll at the end of the pallet. Although a powerful man, he slept the sleep of exhaustion, ignoring the Mutabwcians who came forward to inspect this alien creature dropped into their midst.

Mjipa had been through it all before: giving His name and title to startled palace guards; waiting while messengers ran to and fro to confirm his bona fides; being passed from one bureaucrat to another; and at last appearing before the local ruler, or at least his vizier; Most Krishnans, he knew, would turn even greener with envy at his access to such princely circles, but for Percy Mjipa the glamor had long since departed.

Neither did Mjipa flatter himself that such intimacy with the great of this world was the wage of his own beauty or charm. The Krishnans found his appearance strange, alarming, and if anything repulsive. But they knew something of Terran science and Terran weapons in particular. So they usually took Mjipa seriously, whatever mixture of admiration, envy, resentment, or fear a ruler might harbor towards Terrans.

The consul could never be sure of his reception. He might be invited to a royal banquet, complete with dancing girls; or he might be thrown bodily out of the palace, or even wind up in the dungeon.

Mjipa was brought to the palace before sunrise; Khaldonians kept both early and late hours, sleeping through much of the afternoon. He was struck by the contrast between this palace and Vuzhov's. Where the royal abode in Kalwm City was bare and shabby, that in Yein bore the signs of opulence, confirming the repute of Mutabwk as the richest of the Khaldonian nations. This wealth was derived from rich mines of gold, silver, and copper. Everywhere in the palace, servants were scrubbing the floor, dusting the furniture, polishing ornamental vessels of gold and silver, wiping pictures on the walls, and watering potted plants. Kalwm, he thought, should have been equally rich from the trade through its seaport; but its wealth for many years had gone into Vuzhov's tower.

The minister to whom Mjipa was finally passed bore the name of Zharvets. He sat on a cushion behind the low desk-table, on which stood an hourglass to remind callers that their time was up. A ray of morning sunshine, through one of the high windows, struck golden gleams from the hourglass, evidently filled with gold dust instead of common sand.

Mjipa cut the usual amenities short, saying:"Sir, I protest this outrage!"

"Outrage?" said Zharvets, his smelling plumes rising with his eyebrows. "Officer Spisov, have you been beating or otherwise tormenting this Terran?"

"Nay, Your Altitude," said the lieutenant.

The minister turned back to Mjipa. "Then, good my sir, wherein lies the outrage?"

"Despite my passport from the Heshvavu Vuzhov," snarled Mjipa, "I have been seized and forcibly taken a day's journey out of my way, thus imperiling my mission to Zhamanak. This mission has taken far too long already, and further delays may prove fatal to the Terran on whose behalf I am traveling." He thrust out the pale-green plaque that hung round his neck. "If there be any doubt of who I am, here is my identification."

The minister gave the Krishnan equivalent of a smile. "You must needs allude to that female Terran, who wandered through these purlieus some moons past. I heard she was clapped up in Zhamanak and wondered how soon Novorecife would send someone to investigate. My sovran lord warned Khorosh, but the frampold scorned the caution."

"How long was she in Mutabwk?"

"A few days only. On her arrival, she had an audience with the Heshvavu. Methinks he offered her an honorable place in's harem, he being a wight of notable virility. What befell betwixt them I know not; but she soon departed the palace. Eftsoons we learned that she was going about telling our folk strange subversive tales of your Terran forms of government. No slight to them is intended; but such systems of governance were quite inappropriate on this world.

"Since His Awesomeness wished not to find his throne rocking beneath him in consequence of these anarch whim-seys, he packed her off to Zhamanak with all dispatch. There she must have fallen afoul of the Heshvavu Khorosh, who holds her in durance.

"And now, His Awesomeness hath been apprised of your coming hither and commands your presence. Kindly accompany Spisov thither."

The Heshvavu of Mutabwk, Ainkhist, proved younger than Vuzhov; in Terran terms, a man of healthy middle age. He sat on a pile of cushions on the floor behind his low table and wrote on a long strip of native paper. The subdued light gleamed on his bejeweled necklace, rings, and other gauds. He looked up, saying:

"So you are the Terran official from Novorecife? Welcome to our demesne. How do you?"

Mjipa: "I merely do my duty, Awesomeness, so far as I am able. You know of the imprisonment of Alicia Dyckman by your neighboring monarch, the Heshvavu Khorosh. I mean to find her, learn why she is detained, and free her—by persuasion and reason if possible; by other means if not. Therefore I must protest this needless delay. It means she might be harmed or killed before I could reach her. Why have I been arrested?"

"Because, for the good of the kingdom, we wish to learn what we can about folk from distant lands and other worlds. We intend you no harm, if you will but satisfy our curiosity. To begin: you differ most strikingly from the other Terrans we have encountered. How comes this to be?"

Mjipa repeated what he had told the previous king about his African origin.

"Hmm," said the monarch."Are you of the same species as other Terrans? Or belong you to a different kind, unable to interbreed with the rest? We've disputed the point with a fellow ruler."

"We are all of one kind, sire. We can breed as freely as law, custom, and propinquity allow."

"Now then," continued the Heshvavu, "tell me how this breeding be accomplished. We hear divers tales; but we mean for once to have the sooth."

Mjipa squirmed on his cushion. "You mean, sire, you want to know how the—ah—how the Terran male impregnates the female?"

"That is precisely it. What's the form of their respective organs, and how are they put to use? Amongst the creatures of this world, there's a variety of ways."

Mjipa gulped; he would have blushed if he had been capable of it. "Well—ah—umm—"

"Speak up, man! We cannot hear."

"Our visitor seems ill at ease," said the minister. "Amongst your folk, Master Mjipa, are such affairs a secret dark and dread, that you may not speak thereof?"

"No, sir. As I was brought up—but never mind. I will tell." Mjipa took a deep breath and plunged into an account of human genitalia, copulation, and parturition.

When he ran out of breath, the king and the minister exchanged glances. Ainkhist said: " 'Tis much like our own process, save that our females lay eggs, instead of giving birth to living young as do the six-legged beasts. But tell us, hast ever heard of the female's organ biting off that of the male during coitus?"

Mjipa started, then burst into laughter. "By all the gods, sire, what a gruesome idea! Your answer is no; our females have no teeth or beaks in those parts. Your informant must have confused Terrans of my species with those little creatures called spiders, of whom the female eats the male after he has served his purpose."

"So!" said Ainkhist. "Methought 'twas but a taradiddle.

Let's hope the custom of your spah-ee-dahs ne'er comes to this our world. One more question: be it true that coitus can be done 'twixt Terrans of either sex and normal human beings?"

"I believe so, sire. I have heard of such successful copulations, although I have never tried one."

"So! We are fain to try one of your Terran women. Our harem harbors females from near and far, and we would further broaden our experience ere we wax too old to enjoy it. Me thought we had plumbed the depths when we futtered that wild tailed woman from Fossanderan. Know you, these savages have never learnt the face-to-face position? When we first essayed to mount her ..."

The king launched into a speech on what was evidently, apart from history, his favorite subject. He described his relations with the females of his seraglio in minute detail, causing the straitlaced Mjipa to squirm with embarrassment.

Unused to reading Terran body language, the Krishnans remained oblivious. The Heshvavu droned on until a flunkey came in and whispered in the minister's ear. Zharvets held up a hand and, when the Heshvavu paused in his monologue, said:

"The audience with the leatherworkers' guild, sire."

"Oh, ah, aye, we forget. Pray excuse us."

"Your Awesomeness," said Mjipa, "does this mean I may continue on my way to Zhamanak?"

The Heshvavu gave Mjipa a searching look. "Not so fast, good my Terran. The thought hath stricken me that, belike, we can of mutual service be. See you this?" Ainkhist held up the long strip of paper.

"Yes, sire. What is it?"

"Know that we do indite a history of the Khaldoni nations, our glorious past forever to enshrine in the livers of our folk by means of that useful but dangerous Terran device, the printing press, whereof we have heard tales. It is, we understand, in use in Mikardand and elsewhere. Now, the Heshvavu Vuzhov hath something whereof we stand in need. Had you audience with him?"

"Yes, sire."

"Showed he you that chart of's ancestors?"

"Yes. How did Your Awesomeness guess?"

"Because for years no visitor to his cabinet hath escaped without Vuzhov's showing off his chart and lecturing the visitor on's forebears, back to the first human pair, begotten by Phaighost on a phwchuv at the time of the Creation. Now, we require a copy of that chart for our history, to straighten out dates and synchronism of reigns."

"Can't you ask him for a copy?"

"We have, and the selfish coystril ignores our requests. You see, O Terran, next to that silly tower of his, this chart is the thing in's entire kingdom wherein the pettish noddy takes most pride. Did he but let another have a copy, 'twere no more unique, and he'd take less satisfaction in the showing thereof. He still likes to fancy himself as ruling the great Kalwmian Empire; wherefore that long-outworn title, Emperor of the Triple Seas. Pho! He no longer rules one sea, let alone three.

"When we sent an envoy to Vuzhov to beseech him to let a copy be made, the princox not only renied our civil request but even said he meant to have the chart interred with's corse. He said: 'When I die, this knowledge shall die with me!' Such a wicked waste of irreplaceable knowledge!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"You shall backare to Kalwm City and persuade Vuzhov to give you a copy. Fetch it hither, and your path to Zhamanak shall lie open before you."

"By Dupulán's guts, how am I supposed to do that?" cried Mjipa. "If your envoy, knowing the circumstances better than I ever could—"

"Calm yourself, good my Terran," said Ainkhist, making soothing motions. "After all, you have the prestige of a leiger of Novorecife. Your—ah—unusual appearance, even for a Terran, should lend weight to your demands."

For half an hour, Mjipa argued against this plan on every ground he could think of. But the Heshvavu remained adamant, saying: "That is our offer, Master What's-your-name. Take it or leave it. And think not to start back for Kalwm City but leave the road and circle round the corner of Mutabwk territory. Our border extends many regakit to the west; the border is well guarded; and my men shall have orders to beware of any such attempt.

"And now we must not longer try the leatherworkers' patience. As a gift to you, we shall send a slave girl to your quarters for the night. From what you tell us, your respective organs should be compatible. Thus you, too, shall broaden your experience. We shall welcome your account of the effect upon you, in intimate detail. You have my leave, gentlemen."

Startled, Mjipa could only murmur: "Your Awesomeness is too kind!" He had heard of such customs; but none had ever been practiced upon him. Hence he was at a loss as to how to respond.

Back at the barracks, Mjipa told Minyev of his interview. The Kalwmian rolled his eyes and raised his hands. "Thank your Terran gods, sir, that this Heshvavu is a mild, scholarly wight. Had ye sought to argue and bully the Lord Khorosh into something athwart his will, your head would soon contemplate the scene from a rusty spike atop the main gate, Terran official though ye be."

Mjipa grunted and felt his head. "It seems to be still attached," he told Minyev. Privately he thought he had, perhaps, presumed too far on his immunity as a Terran official. Other Terrans had made the same mistake among these high-spirited, hot-tempered Krishnans and ended up dead. He must try to be more careful.

During the afternoon, while checking equipment, Mjipa worried over what to do with the Krishnan slave girl when she arrived. One side urged him to go ahead and use her, and to hell with the consequences. He would be careful not to hurt her, and he could not impregnate her, since Terran-Krishnan hybrids were genetically impossible. The saying among Earthmen on Krishna was: "More easily cross a man with a geranium." After three moons since leaving Novorecife, Mjipa's sexual drive insistently demanded relief.

As the product of a straitlaced upbringing, however, the other side of Mjipa's nature held him back. The baMangwato were a folk of austere standards, further reinforced by the neo-Puritan movement. Besides, Percy thought, the girl would probably be a spy for the palace, if indeed she was not sent to murder him in his sleep. Even if she were not, Victoria might hear of it and raise holy hell.

Tired, Mjipa retired after supper. He had barely doffed his sandals when a knock announced the slave girl.

"I am clept Ovanel," she said, gracefully dipping and bobbing. She unfastened the exiguous kilt and tossed it aside, leaving her nude but for sandals and necklace. "Doth my lord wish to come in unto me now?"

"No, Ovanel," growled Mjipa. "Nobody goes in unto anybody tonight. Tell His Awesomeness I thank him, but ..."

While Mjipa tried to think of an excuse, the slave girl burst into tears. "An I fail to pleasure you, they will b-beat me, even as Qarar beat the king of 'Ishk!" she wailed.

"We cannot have that," grumpled Mjipa. "Tell them I am sick with headache."

"I hear and obey." Doffing her sandals, she stretched herself out on the floor beside Mjipa's narrow pallet. "Belike my lord would liefer futter me on the morrow?"

"No!" roared Mjipa. "Put that little garment back on and go back to the palace. Here!" He handed her a silver kard of Majbur, wondering how he should class the expenditure on his expense account. Pierce Angioletti, a very proper Bostonian, was severe in such matters."Tell them I enjoyed you so much I feared another would kill me. Now get along, little one."

For an instant, Ovanel seemed torn between outraged vanity at being sent away untried and joy at the money. At last she said: "Will ye do me one small favor, my lord?"

"What is?"

"Show me that Terran custom clept 'kissing', whereof we do hear rumors in the palace."

Mjipa dug his strong black fingers into his woolly hair.

"Jesus Christ almighty!" he groaned in English, adding, "Modimo wa kgolo!" in Setswana. In Khaldoni he said: "No, Ovanel dear, no can do. I made a religious vow. Now go before I beat you as Qarar did the king of 'Ishk!"

She went at last. Sweating heavily, Mjipa leaned against the door. To himself he said: Well, Percy, you came through with your damned honor intact, although it was teetering on the edge for a while. If you had laid a hand on her, or shown her what a kiss was, or let her stay the night... Maybe I'm just a damned fool. Maybe Vicky is right to twit me on my silly moralism; but she'd be the first to raise hell if I abandoned it. As the Americans say, you can't win. So you might as well face the fact and get some sleep.

After a day in Yein to rest men and animals, Mjipa set out for Kalwm. When the party reached the border, Lieutenant Spisov handed a note to the Kalwmians' commanding officer, and the two held a low conversation. Mjipa's people passed the night in a hut of the border guard and set out for Kalwm City next morning, accompanied by another junior officer. Ainkhist must have sent the note, Mjipa thought, urging the Kalwmians to watch the Terran and his party closely.

Back in Kalwm City, Mjipa sought out Minister Chanapar and told him of Ainkhist's demand. The Phathvum threw up his hands. "Gods above! You know the Heshvavu's attitude on that chart. As soon lift a bishtar with one hand as try to change it."

"My lord," said Mjipa, "you know something of the Terrans' power. We have orders not to interfere with the Krishnan states, but that does not mean we must quietly submit to every outrage perpetrated upon our fellow Terrans. "

Chanapar shrugged. "What you do to Khorosh is your affair. We in Kalwm are not responsible."

"But you—or rather, your Heshvavu—holds the key to this situation. Without that chart, I cannot even get to Zhamanak to right Khorosh's wrongs."

"That is unfortunate; but it does not alter the mind of His Awesomeness."

"Furthermore," Mjipa insisted, "you know that Terran influence is bound to increase among the Khaldoni nations, as travel between here and Novorecife becomes more frequent. A wise ruler would make sure of being on the right side 'of Novorecife before the problems that arise from such contacts manifest themselves."

Chanapar sighed. "You're as persistent as Gedik was when he sought to lasso the moons! But I fear me our Heshvavu's mind is not overly concerned with the ilk of future commercial advantages ..."

Mjipa returned to the Phathvum's office the next day, and the day after that. He argued, cajoled, and uttered veiled threats. Nothing moved the minister or, presumably, the king to whom he reported.

Between times, Mjipa canvassed the possibilities of more direct action. In theory one could, by leaving the road to Mejvorosh before reaching the Mutabwcian border, make a wide detour through the forest to reach the border of Zhamanak without crossing Mutabwcian territory. Mjipa studied maps, but these brought no comfort. Aside from the single road and the swath between the fences marking the borders, there were no roads through that region. Presumably there were game trails, but it would take years of living in the region to become familiar with them.

Allowing for the sloth of hacking one's way through a trackless tropical jungle, the detour would take several moons at least. Nor did Mjipa see how he could carry enough supplies to keep himself and his escort fed. He knew that few things in such a jungle were edible by Terrans, and it would take years to become adept at hunting or finding them. No, it would have to be the less heroic but more practical journey by road.

Mjipa approached his fourth visit to the Phathvum with some apprehension. During the last audience, Chanapar had shown an understandable eagerness to be rid of his importunate visitor. This time, Mjipa feared that the minister would refuse even to see him.

Chanapar, however, pleasantly surprised Mjipa. "Ah there, Master Terran! When you were here yesterday, said you not you would do us any favor within your power in return for that chart?"

"Yes, sir." Mjipa feared that the Phathvum was about to ask for Terran weapons, which request Mjipa would have to refuse. But Chanapar said:

"I have taken counsel with His Awesomeness, and he hath graciously advised me that there is, indeed, one such favor you can do."

"And that is?"

"Hast heard of the heretic, Doctor Isayin, soon to be tried for spreading subversive notions about the shape of the world?"

"I have. What about him?"

"The trial opens on the morrow. Facing a delicate political situation, the Heshvavu is anxious that nought interfere with the orderly conduct of this trial. A rumor hath got abroad that Terrans, whom the common folk credit with exaggerated wisdom, uphold quiddities like unto Isayin's about the shape of the world. We cannot have that sort of thing in an orderly, well-run kingdom."

"Well, sir?" said Mjipa, puzzled.

"To counteract this rumor, His Awesomeness would have a Terran testify at the trial; that he aver that a substantial number of Terrans hold a view like unto the official one here. And here you are."

"You mean," said Mjipa, "that you want me to appear at this trial as a witness and testify that I think your world is flat?"

"You and a substantial number of others of your kind." As Mjipa looked as if he were about to burst into speech, Chanapar held up a hand. "Nay, tell me not whether you agree with that opinion. I had liefer not know. Do but answer 'Aye' to the questions the prosecutor will put, and you shall have your copy of the genealogical chart."

Jaw set, Mjipa stared at the floor. The proposal was intensely distasteful. To swear in court to an absurd opinion was dishonorable, all the more so if his testimony would help convict a brave, enlightened Krishnan servant. At last Mjipa asked:

"If Isayin is convicted, what will be done to him?"

"That is for the justicers to decide. It can be aught from ten years' imprisonment to death."

Mjipa pondered further. If he refused, there was little chance that he would get to Zhamanak, and the gods of Krishna only knew what would become of Alicia Dyckman. While Mjipa tried to be fair to Krishnans, in a question of a Terran's life against a Krishnan's, the Terran would have to be a scoundrel indeed before Mjipa would side against his own species.

"I will do it," he said at last.

"Good! Methought you would," said the Phathvum.

"Has the copy of this chart yet been made?"

"Yerkus, our leading caligrapher, swinks upon it e'en now."

"May I see how far it has progressed? Not that I mistrust you, Your Altitude, but I wish to forestall unforseen obstacles."

"I can make arrangements. Bide you here." The minister left the chamber but soon returned, saying: "Come!"

Mjipa followed the Phathvum through the same maze of corridors as before. This time, King Vuzhov was not in his cabinet. Instead, another Krishnan sat at the royal desk-table, laboriously copying out the lines and names of the chart on another sheet of native paper.

Mjipa looked over the Kalwmian's shoulder and nodded. "I will attend your trial. When and where do you wish me to appear?"

When called to the witness's cushion, Mjipa strode across the space before the dais occupied by the three judges. The audience in the courtroom stirred and muttered at the sight of him. Across the room the defendant, a small, wizened Krishnan, stared at Mjipa. The consul thought he read reproach in that look, although it was hard for an Ertsu to interpret Krishnans' expressions.

The prosecutor said: "Master Mjipa, whereas you are a Terran, we cannot expect you to bind yourself by an oath to our gods. If you will swear by the Terran gods, that will suffice."

Mjipa suppressed a smile. "I suppose I can."

"Very well. Swear by these gods—you must needs name them—that you will speak the truth, the entire truth, and nought but the truth."

"I swear by God, Yahveh, Allah, Brahma—ah— Modimo, Odin, and Zeus that I will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"You are Peh-see Um-jee-pah?"

"Yes."

"A native of the world you call 'Earth'?"

"I am."

"And presently domiciled at Novorecife?"

"Yes."

"A leiger of the government of your native world?"

"If you mean an official representative, yes."

"You are familiar with the official belief of Kalwm, that our world be flat and disk-shaped, as set forth in our sacred book, dictated to the prophet Shadleiv by the god Phai-ghost?"

"Yes."

"And you have also heard of the heretical doctrine said to have been taught by the defendant, that the world be round like unto a ball, so that all the water would run off it?"

"I have."

"Is it true that many of your fellow Terrans believe a doctrine like unto the official one of Kalwm, that the world be a flat disk?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. The advocate for the defendant will now question you."

Mjipa swore under his breath. Chanapar had said nothing about his being cross-examined. If Isayin's attorney trapped him into admitting that, among Ertsuma, only a handful of zanies still maintained that the Earth was flat, the effect of his previous testimony would be nullified, and the king would have an excuse to withhold the chart. Grimly he settled himself on his cushion, preparing to fence with this new antagonist.

The defendant's attorney, an intense-looking young Krishnan, said: "You stated, Master Mjipa, that amongst your fellow Terrans many adhere to the flat-world opinion, did you not?"

"I did."

"Do many also adhere to a round-world belief, like unto that attributed to Doctor Isayin?"

"There are some such."

"How numerous are these round-worlders?"

"I do not know."

"I mean, what are the relative magnitudes of the two groups of believers, the flat-worlders and the round-worlders?"

"I do not know that, either."

"Canst guess?"

"No, sir."

"What is your personal belief about the shape of the world?"

"I have none."

"What! A widely-traveled Terran, and you expect me to believe you have never even thought on the shape of the world?"

"I have thought about it, but without coming to a conclusion. "

"Explain that, pray."

"I have heard arguments in favor of both views. The arguments on both sides seem well reasoned, so I await more conclusive evidence before making up my mind."

"Believe you that a learned man, like unto my client, should bear witness to what he believes to be truth, even though those in power disagree?"

"Such a belief is held by many of my fellow Terrans; but that applies only to my native world. As to what this defendant and his government ought to do, that is their affair. I have no opinions on that question."

"Suppose Doctor Isayin were a Terran; would you then think he should speak out his true beliefs?"

"Sir, I cannot answer a hypothetical question. What he ought to do on my native world, if he were of my own species, has nothing to do with what he should do here and now."

"You do not, then, believe in absolute standards of right and wrong?"

"I have no opinion on such profound philosophical questions. I am no priest or philosopher, merely an official trying to perform his duties."

The attorney gave up. "Very well; no more questions. You may withdraw."

The next witness was the High Priest of Phaighost, clad in a billowing robe of black gauze. After preliminary questions, the prosecutor asked: "My lord, what is our religion's official doctrine anent the shape of the world?"

"It is that the world have the form of a flat, circular disk, with the heavens forming a hemispherical dome above it."

"What is the evidence for this doctrine?"

The High Priest put on his eyeglasses and whisked a book from his robe. Like other Krishnan books, this consisted of a long strip of paper folded zigzag between a pair of thin wooden covers. He untied the string that held the book closed and opened at one of the bends in the strip. Mjipa thought the priest must have marked the page with some form of clip or place mark to enable him to find it so quickly.

In a sonorous, homiletic voice, the High Priest spoke: "I have here a copy of the Vetsareph, our sacred book, known to all of you. I shall read from Chapter Fourteen, verse nine: 'And the gods in Heaven sit upon their golden thrones above the dome of the sky; and below, upon the disk of the world, the people thereof appear but as bugs to them.' That is as plain a statement of the form of the world as one can find.

"If, howsome ver, there remain any doubt of the purport of this divinely inspired passage, I shall read from the twenty-second chapter, verse forty-three: 'And the Lord Phaighost, king of the gods and master of the universe, took his servant Shadleiv up to the top of Mount Meshaq, whence he showed him all the lands of the world, with its kingdoms, republics, tribes, and uninhabited wastelands.' Obviously, had the world the form of a cube, sphere, pyramid, or other geometrical solid, the prophet Shadleiv could not have seen all parts of the world at one time from one place.

"Finally, I shall read from the twenty-seventh chapter, third verse: 'And the Lord Phaighost said unto Shadleiv: "Verily, my son, my words shall go out from thee and thy disciples unto the ends of the world, unto the extremest rim and circumference thereof. Plainly, no matter what demon-inspired aliens from the lamellated hells say, a sphere can have neither end nor rim ..."

Mjipa rose and left the courtroom, mopping sweat from his shiny black forehead. Although it was too late in the day to set out for Zhamanak, he did not wish to remain in the chamber for more of this medieval heresy trial. Although he had successfully parried the defending lawyer's questions, he felt ashamed for doing so. He could not bear to linger at the scene where he had been forced into hypocritically proclaiming lies as his true beliefs.

Later, at Chanapar's office, the minister said: "You did not come out so strongly for the flat world as my master, reading a transcript of today's proceedings, would have liked."

"You didn't warn me I was to be cross-examined. I had to evade those unforeseen questions as best I could without preparation."

"True; that was an oversight. The Heshvavu would have withheld the copy of the chart; but I persuaded him that, since the copy had been completed, it were pointless not to give it to you. Here you are."

"Thanks," grunted Mjipa, carefully folding the large sheet until he could insert it into his wallet. "With your kind permission, I shall set out for Zhamanak at daybreak tomorrow."

Ten days later, Mjipa and his Krishnans arrived again at the borders of Mutabwk. When the blue-painted officers recognized him, he drew forth the folded copy of the genealogical chart.

"Here!" he said. "This is what your Heshvavu demanded as the price of letting me through. May I now proceed?"

"Not yet," said the commanding officer. "First, this paper must be taken to Yein for the government's approof."

Mjipa groaned. "Do you mean another of those breakneck all-night rides?"

"Ye need not go. Spisov! Take this paper forthwith to the Minister Zharvets. If he approve, return hither post-haste with a written authorization to let his Terran and his escort through." The officer turned back to Mjipa. "Ye might as well dismount and make yourself comfortable, Master Terran. 'Twill be at least two days ere Spisov can return with your permission."

Silently fuming, Mjipa slid from his mount. At last he said:"Is there a good, strong drink of kvad anywhere? I think I've earned it."