"Adam Reith," said the voice. "You are a peculiar mad case. I am interested in your intentions. Drop the gun, put your arms to the front and do not move. Do you feel the weight on your neck? That is my foot. Quick then, arms forward, and no sudden motions. Hisziu, make ready."
The folds were pulled back, away from Reith's extended arms. Nimble dark fingers bound his wrists with silk ribbon.
The velvet was further drawn back. Reith, still somewhat dazed, looked up at the spraddle-legged bulk. Hisziu the servant skipped back and forth, around and under, like a puppy.
Woudiver hoisted Reith erect. "Walk, if you will." He sent Reith stumbling with a shove.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IN A DARK room, against a metal rack, stood Reith. His outstretched arms were taped to a transverse bar; his ankles were likewise secured. No light entered the room save the glimmer of a few stars through a narrow window. Hisziu the servant crouched four feet in front of him, with a light whip of braided silk, little more than a length of supple cord attached to a short handle. He seemed able to see in the dark and amused himself by snapping the tip of the whip, at unpredictable intervals, upon Reith's wrists, knees and chin. He spoke only once. "Your two friends have been taken. They are no better than you: worse, indeed. Woudiver works with them."
Reith stood limp, his thoughts sluggish and dismal. Disaster was complete; he was conscious of nothing else. The malicious little snaps of Hisziu's whip barely brushed the edge of his awareness. His existence was coming to an end, to be no more remarked than the fall of a raindrop into one of Tschai's sullen oceans. Somewhere out of sight the blue moon rose, casting a sheen across the sky. The slow waxing and equally slow waning of moonlight told the passing of the night.
Hisziu fell into a drowse and snored softly. Reith was indifferent. He raised his head, looked out of the window. The shimmer of moonlight was gone; a muddy color towards the east signaled the coming of Carina 4269. Hisziu awoke with a start, and flicked the whip petulantly at Reith's cheeks, raising instant bloodblisters. He left the chamber and a moment later returned with a mug of hot tea, which he sipped by the window. Reith croaked: "I'll pay you ten thousand sequins to cut me loose."
Hisziu paid him no heed.
Reith said, "And another ten thousand if you help me free my friends."
The servant sipped the tea as if Reith had never spoken.
The sky glowed dark gold; Carina 4269 had appeared. Steps sounded; Woudiver's bulk filled the doorway. A moment he stood quietly, assessing the situation, then, seizing the whip, he gestured Hisziu from the room.
Woudiver seemed exalted, as if drugged or drunk. He slapped the whip against his thigh. "I can't find the money, Adam Reith. Where is it?"
Reith attempted to speak in a casual voice. "What are your plans?"
Woudiver raised his hairless eyebrows. "I have no plans. Events proceed; I exist as well as I may."
"Why do you keep me tied here?"
Aila Woudiver slapped the whip against his leg. "I have naturally notified my kinsmen of your apprehension."
"The Dirdir?"
"Of course." Woudiver gave his thigh a rap with the whip.
Reith spoke with great earnestness. "The Dirdir are no kinsmen of yours! Dirdir and men are not even remotely connected; they come from different stars."
Woudiver leaned indolently against the wall. "Where do you learn such idiocy?"
Reith licked his lips, wondering where lay his best hope of succor. Woudiver was not a rational man; he was motivated by instinct and intuition. Reith tried to project utter certainty as he spoke. "Men originated on the planet Earth. The Dirdir know this as well as I. They prefer that Dirdirmen deceive themselves."
Woudiver nodded thoughtfully. "You intend to seek out this 'Earth' with your spaceship?"
"I don't need to seek it out. It lies two hundred light-years distant, in the constellation Clari."
Woudiver pranced forward. With his yellow face a foot from Reith's he bellowed,
"And what of the treasure you promised me? You misled, you deceived!"
"No," said Reith. "I did not. I am an Earthman. I was shipwrecked here on Tschai. Help me back to Earth; you will receive whatever treasure you care to name."
Woudiver backed slowly away. "You are one of the Yao redemptionist cult, whatever it calls itself."
"No. I am telling the truth. Your best interest lies in helping me."
Woudiver nodded sagely. "Perhaps this is the case. But first things first. You can easily demonstrate your good faith. Where is my money?"
"Your money? It is not your money. It is my money."
"A sterile distinction. Where is, shall we say, our money?"
"You'll never see it unless you perform your obligations."
"This is utter obstinacy!" stormed Woudiver. "You are captured, you are done, and your henchmen as well. The Dirdirman must return to the Glass Cage. The steppe-boy will be sold into slavery-unless you care to buy his life with the money."
Reith sagged and became listless. Woudiver strutted back and forth across the room, darting glances at Reith. He came close and prodded Reith in the stomach with the whip. "Where is the money?"
"I don't trust you," said Reith in a dreary voice. "You never keep your promises." With a great effort, he lifted himself erect and tried to speak in a calm voice. "If you want the money, let me go free. The spaceship is almost finished. You may come along to Earth."
Woudiver's face was inscrutable. "And then?"
"A space-yacht, a palace-whatever you want. You shall have it.
"And how shall I return to Sivishe?" demanded Woudiver scornfully. "What of my affairs? It is plain that you are mad; why do you waste my time? Where is the money? The Dirdirman and the steppe-lad have declared with conviction that they do not know."
"I don't know either. I gave it to Deine Zarre and told him to hide it. You killed him."
Woudiver stifled a groan of dismay. "My money?"
"Tell me," said Reith, "do you intend that I finish the spaceship?"
"It has never been my intention!"
"You defrauded me?"
"Why not? You tried the same. The man that beats Aila Woudiver is cunning indeed."
"No question as to that."
Hisziu entered the room and, standing on tiptoe, whispered into Woudiver's ear.
Woudiver stamped with rage. "So soon? They are early! I have not even started."
He turned to Reith, his face seething like water in a boiling pot. "Quick then, the money, or I sell the lad. Quick!"
"Let us go! Help us finish the spaceship. Then you shall have your money!"
"You unreasonable ingrate!" hissed Woudiver. Footsteps sounded. "I am thwarted!" he groaned. "What a sad life is mine. Vermin!" Woudiver spat into Reith's face and beat him furiously with the whip.
Into the room, proudly conducted by Hisziu, came a tall Dirdirman, the most splendid and strange Reith had yet seen: by all odds an Immaculate. Woudiver muttered to Hisziu from the side of his mouth; Reith's bonds were cut. The Dirdirman attached a chain to Reith's neck, clasped the other end to his belt.
Without a word he walked away, shaking his fingers in fastidious disdain.
Reith stumbled after.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BEFORE WOUDIVER'S HOUSE stood a white-enameled car. The Immaculate snapped Reith's chain to a ring at the rear. Reith watched in dreary wonder. The Immaculate stood almost seven feet tall, with artificial effulgences attached to wens at either side of his peaked scalp. His skin gleamed white as the enamel of the car; his head was totally hairless; his nose was a ridged beak. For all his strange appearance and undoubtedly altered sexuality, he was a man, ruminated Reith, derived from the same soil as himself. From the house, at a quick stumble, as if shoved, came Anacho and Traz. Chains encircled their necks; behind, jerking the loose ends, ran Hisziu. Two Dirdirman Elites followed. They shackled the chains to the back of the car. The Immaculate spoke a few sibilant words to Anacho and indicated a shelf running across the rear of the car.