In late afternoon of the second day after the turbulent convocation, Barquan Blasdel returned to his pad. He dropped the painter of his coracle over a stake of carved bone, gazed appreciatively into the west. The sun had only just departed the sky, which now glowed with effulgent greens, blues, and. at die zenith, a purple of exquisite purity. The ocean, shuddering to the first whispers of the evening breeze, reflected me sky, Blasdel felt surrounded, immersed in color. He aimed away, marched to his house, whistling a complacent time between his teeth. On the morrow the most troublesome elements of all the floats would depart on the morning breeze, and no more would be heard from them ever. And Blasdel's whistling became slow and thoughtful. Although life flowed smoothly and without contention, over the years a certain uneasiness and dissatisfaction had begun to make itself felt.
Dissident elements had begun to question the established order. The sudden outbreak of violence at the convocation perhaps had been inevitable: an explosion of suppressed or even unconscious tensions. But all was working out for the best. The affair could not have resolved itself more smoothly if he had personally arranged the entire sequence of events.
At one stroke all the skeptics, grumblers, ne'er-do-wells, the covertly insolent, the obstinate hardheads-at one stroke, all would disappear, never again to trouble the easy and orthodox way of life.
Almost jauntily Barquan Blasdel ambled up the path to his residence: a group of five semidetached huts. screened by the garden from the main float, and so providing a maximum of privacy for Blasdel, his spouse and his six daughters. Blasdel halted. On a bench beside the door sat a man. Twilight murk concealed his face. Blasdel frowned, peered. Intruders upon his private pad were not welcome. Blasdel marched forward.
The man rose from the bench and bowed: it was Phyral Berwick, the Apprise Arbiter. "Good evening," said Berwick. "I trust I did not startle you."
"By no means," said Blasdel shortly. With rank equal to his own Berwick could not be ignored, although after his unconventional actions at the convocation Blasdel could not bring himself to display more man a minimum of formal courtesy. He said, "Unfortunately I was not expecting callers and can offer you no refreshment."
"A circumstance of no moment," declared Berwick. "I desire neither food nor drink." He waved his hand around the pad. "You live on a pad of surpassing beauty, Barquan Blasdel. There are many who might envy you."
Blasdel shrugged. "Since my conduct is orthodox, I am armored against adverse opinion. But what urgency brings you here? I fear that 1 must be less than ceremonious; I am shortly due at the hoodwink tower to participate in a coded all-float conference."
Berwick made a gesture of polite acquiescence. "My business is of small moment. But I would not keep you standing out here in the dusk. Shall we enter?"
Blasdel grunted, opened the door. allowed Berwick to enter. From a cupboard he brought luminant fiber, which he set aglow and arranged in a holder. Turning a quick side glance toward Berwick he said. "In all candor I am somewhat surprised to see you. Apparently you were among the most vehement of those dissidents who planned to depart."
"I may well have given that impression," Berwick agreed.
"But you must realize that declarations uttered in the heat of emotion are occasionally amended in the light of sober reason."
Blasdel nodded curtly. "True enough. I suspect that many of the ingrates will think twice before joining this harebrained expedition."
"This is partly the reason for my presence here," said Berwick. He looked around the room. "An interesting chamber. You own dozens of valuable artifacts. But where are the others of your family?"
"In the domestic area. This is my sanctum, my workroom, my place of meditation."
"Indeed." Berwick inspected the walls. "Indeed, indeed!
I believe 1 notice certain relics of the forefathers'"
"True," said Blasdel. "This small flat object is of the substance called 'metal,' and is extremely hard. The best bone knife will not scratch it. The purpose of this particular object I cannot conjecture. It is an heirloom. These books are exact copies of the Dicta in the Hall of Archives, and present the memoirs of me Forefathers- Alas! 1 find them beyond my comprehension. There is nothing more of any great interest.
On the shelf-my ceremonial headdresses; you have seen them before. Here is my telescope. It is old; the case is warped, the gum of the lenses has bulged and cracked. It was poor gum, to begin with. But I have little need for a better instrument. My possessions are few. Unlike many Intercessors and certain Arbiters." here he cast a meaningful eye at Phyral Berwick, "I do not choose to surround myself with sybaritical cushions and baskets of sweetmeats."
Berwick laughed ruefully. "You have touched upon my weaknesses. Perhaps the fear of deprivation has occasioned second thoughts in me."
"Ha hah!" Blasdel became jovial. "I begin to understandThe scalawags who set off to wild new floats can expect nothing but hardship: wild fish, homy sponges, new varnish with little more body than water; in short they will be returning to the life of savages. They must expect to suffer the depredations of lesser kragen, who will swiftly gather. Perhaps in time…" His voice dwindled, his face took on a thoughtful look.
"What was it you were about to say?" prompted Phyral Bcwick.
Blasdel gave a noncommittal laugh. "An amusing, if farfetched, conceit crossed my mind- Perhaps in time one of these lesser kragen will vanquish the others, and drive them away. When this occurs, those who flee King Kragen will have a king of their own. who may eventually…" Again his voice paused.
"Who may eventually rival King Kragen in size and force?"
Berwick supplied. "The concept is not unreasonable-although King Kragen is already enormous from long feasting, and shows no signs of halting his growth." An almost imperceptible tremor moved the floor of the hut. Blasdel went to look out the door. "I thought I felt the arrival of a coracle."
"Conceivably a gust of wind," said Berwick. "Well, to my errand. As you have guessed I did not come to examine your relics or comment upon the comfort of your cottage. My business is this. I feel a certain sympathy for those who are leaving and I feel that no one, not even the most violently fanatic intercessor, would wish this group to meet King Kragen upon the ocean. King Kragen, as you are aware, disapproves of exploration, and becomes petulant, even wrathful, when he finds men venturing out upon the ocean- Perhaps he fears the possibility of the second King Kragen concerning which we speculated. Hence I came to inquire the whereabouts of King Kragen- In the morning the wind blows east, and the optimum location for King Kragen would be to the far west at Tranque or Thrasneck."
Blasdel nodded sagely- "The emigrants are putting their luck to the test. Should King Kragen chance to be waiting in the east tomorrow morning and should he spy the flotilla, his wrath might well be excited, to the detriment of the expedition.''
THE KStAGEN 165 "And where," inquired Berwick, "was King Kragen at last notification?"
Barquan Blasdel knit his brows. "I believe I noted a hoodwink message to the effect that he was seen cruising in a westerly direction to the south of Maudelinda Float, toward Bickle. 1 might well have misread the flicker, I only noted the configuration from the comer of my eye-but such was my understanding."
"Excellent," declared Berwick. "This is good news. The emigrants should make their departure safely and without interference."
"So we hope," said Blasdel. "King Kragen of course is subject to unpredictable whims and quirks."
Berwick made a confidential sign. "Sometimes-so it is rumored-he responds to signals transmitted in some mysterious manner by the Intercessors. Tell me, Barquan Blasdel, is mis the case? We are both notables and together share responsibility for the welfare of Apprise Hoat. Is it true then that the Intercessors communicate with King Kragen, as has been alleged?"