"It was combed straight over the scalp and down across the neck."
"And this is a distinctive style?"
"Well - it's hardly common, though not bizarre or unique. It is distinctive enough to facilitate identification."
Pardero nodded gloomily. "My enemy intended that no one should identify me as a Rhune. He cut my hair, dressed me in a clown's suit, then put me on a spaceship and sent me across the Cluster, hoping I would never return."
"So it would seem. Still, why did he not simply kill you and roll you into a ditch? How much more decisive!"
"Rhunes fear killing, except in war: this I have learned from Ollave."
Kolodin surreptitiously studied Pardero who sat brooding across the landscape.
Remarkable the alteration! In a few hours, from a person uninformed, vague, and confused, Pardero had become a man purposeful and integrated; a man, so Kolodin would guess, of strong passions under stern control, and after all was not this the way of the Rhunes? "For the sake of argument, let us assume that this enemy exists," said Kolodin laboriously. "He knows you; you do not know him. You will arrive at Port Mar at a disadvantage, and perhaps at considerable risk."
Pardero seemed almost amused. "So then, must I avoid Port Mar? I reckon on this risk; I intend to prepare against it."
"And how will you so prepare?"
"First I want to learn as much as possible about the Rhunes."
"Simple enough," said Kolodin. "The knowledge is in Chamber 933. What next?"
"I have not decided."
Sensing evasion, Kolodin pursed his lips. "The Connatic's law is exact: Rhunes are allowed neither energy weapons nor airvehicles."
Pardero grinned. "I am no Rhune until I learn my identity."
"In a technical sense, this is true," said Kolodin cautiously.
Something over a month later Kolodin accompanied Pardero to the Central Spaceport at Commarice, and out across the field to the Dylas Extranuator. The two said goodbye at the embarkation ramp. "I probably will never see you again," said Kolodin, and much as I would like to know the outcome of your quest, I probably will never learn."
Pardero replied in a flat voice, "I thank you for your help and for your personal kindness."
From a Rhune, thought Kolodin, even an occluded Rhune, this was almost effusiveness. He spoke in a guarded voice: "A month ago you hinted at your need for a weapon. Have you obtained such an item?"
"No," said Pardero. "I thought to wait until I was beyond the range of the Connatic's immediate attention, so to speak."
With furtive glances to left and right Kolodin tucked a small carton into Pardero's pocket. "You are now carrying a Dys Model G Skull-splitter.
Instructions are included in the package. Don't flourish it about; the laws are explicit. Good-by, good luck, and communicate with me if possible."
"Again, thank you." Pardero clasped Kolodin's shoulders, then turned away and boarded the ship.
Kolodin returned to the terminal and ascended to the observation deck. Half an hour later he watched the black, red and gold spaceship loft into the air, slide off and away from Numenes.
Chapter 4
During the month previous to his departure, Pardero spent many hours in Chamber
933 along the Ring of Worlds. Kolodin occasionally kept him company; Oswen Ollave, as often, came down from his offices to discuss the perplexing habits of the Rhunes.
Ollave prepared a chart which he insisted that Pardero memorize.
FURAD OSMO MADDARCIRSE
AUDXXX
EITHERX
OR BOTH
ISP XXWITH OR
X
WITHOUT
CHILL ISP X
UMBERX X
EITHERX
OR BOTH
LORN UMBERX
ROWAN XX
RED ROWAN X
GREEN ROWAN X
MIRK
"The chart indicates Marune's ordinary conditions of daylight1, during which the character of the landscape changes profoundly. The population is naturally affected, and most especially the Rhunes." Ollave's voice had taken on a pedantic suavity, and he enunciated his words with precision. "Port Mar is hardly notable for sophistication. The Rhunes, however, consider Port Mar a most worldly place, characterized by shameless alimentation, slackness, laxity, and a kind of bestial lasciviousness to which they apply the term 'sebalism.'
"In the Old Town at Port Mar a handful of exiles live - young Rhunes who have rebelled against their society, or who have been ejected for lapses of conduct.
They are a demoralized, miserable, and bitter group; all criticize their parents, who, so they claim, have withheld counsel and guidance. To a certain extent this is true; Rhunes feel that their precepts are self-evident even to the understanding of a child - which of course they are not; nowhere in the Cluster are conventions more arbitrary. For instance, the process of ingesting food is considered as deplorable as the final outcome of digestion, and eating is done as privately as possible. The child is supposed to arrive at this viewpoint as well as other Rhune conventions automatically. He is expected to excel in arcane and impractical skills; he must quell his sebalism."
Pardero stirred restlessly. "You have used this word before; I do not understand it."
"It is the special Rhune concept for sexuality, which the Rhunes find disgusting. How then do they procreate? It is cause for wonder. But they have solved the problem with elegance and ingenuity. During mirk, in the dark of the suns, they undergo a remarkable transformation. Do you wish to hear about it? If so, you must allow me a measure of discursiveness, as the subject is most wonderful!
"About once a month, the land grows dark, and the Rhunes become restless. Some lock themselves into their homes; others array themselves in odd costumes and go forth into the night where they perform the most astonishing deeds. The baron whose rectitude is unquestioned robs and beats one of his tenants. A staid matron commits daring acts of unmentionable depravity. No one who allows himself to be accessible is safe. What a mystery then! How to reconcile such conduct with the decorum of daylight? No one tries to do so; night-deeds are considered hardships for which no one is held responsible, like nightmares. Mirk is a time of unreality. Events during mirk are unreal, and guilt has no basis.
"During mirk, sebalism is rampant. Indeed, sexual activity occurs only as a night-deed, only in the guise of rape. Marriage - 'trisme,' as it is called - is never considered a sexual pairing, but rather an alliance - a joining of economic or political forces. Sexual acts, if they occur, will be night-deeds - acts of purported rape. The male participant wears a black garment over his shoulders, arms, and upper chest, and boots of black cloth. Over his head he wears a man-mask. His torso is naked. He is purposely grotesque, an abstraction of male sexuality. His costume depersonalizes him and maximizes the fantasy or unreal elements. The man enters the chamber where the woman sleeps, or pretends to sleep; and in utter silence copulation occurs. Neither virginity nor its absence is significant, nor are either so much as a subject for speculation. The Rhune dialect contains no such word.
"So there you have the state of 'trisme.' Between trismetics friendship may exist, but the two address each other formally. Intimacy between any two people is rare. Rooms are large, so that folk need not huddle together, nor even approach. No person purposely touches another; in fact the occupations which require physical contact, such as barbering, doctoring, clothes-fitting, are considered pariah trades. For such services the Rhunes journey into Port Mar. A
parent neither strikes nor caresses his child; a warrior attempts to kill his enemy at a distance, and weapons such as swords and daggers have only ceremonial function.