"First, take you to Cath."
The fingers now gripped his shoulders, the eyes searched his through the darkness. "Then what? You would return to your own land?"
"Yes."
"You have a woman-a wife?"
"Oh no. No indeed."
"Someone who knows your secret name?"
"I had no secret name until you gave me one."
The girl took her hands from his shoulders, and, leaning on the rail, stared moodily out across old Pera. "If you go to Dadiche, they will smell you and kill you."
"'Smell me? How do you mean?"
She turned him a quick look. "You are a puzzle! So much you know, and so little!
One would think you from the farthest island of Tschai! The Blue Chasch smell as accurately as we can see!"
"I still must make the trial."
"I don't understand," she said in a dull voice. "I have told you my name; I have given what is most precious to me; and you are unmoved. You do not alter your way."
Reith took her in his arms. She was stiff, then gradually yielded. "I am not unmoved," said Reith. "Far from it. But I must go to Dadiche--for your sake as well as mine."
"How my sake? To be carried back to Cath?"
"That, and more. Are you happy to be dominated by Dirdir and Chasch and Wankh, not to mention the Pnume?"
"I don't know ... I had never thought of it. Men are freaks, afterthoughts, so they tell us. Though Mad King Hopsin insisted that men came from a far planet.
He called to them for help, which of course never came. That was a hundred and fifty years ago."
"It's a long time to wait," said Reith. He kissed her once more; she submitted listlessly. The fervor was gone.
"I feel-strange," she mumbled. "I don't know how I feel."
They stood by the rail, listening to the sounds of the inn: soft hoots of laughter from the pot-room; complaints of children, the scolding of their mothers. The Flower of Cath said, "I think I will go to bed now."
Reith held her back. "Derl."
"Yes?"
"When I come back from Dadiche-"
"You will never come back from Dadiche. The Blue Chasch will take you for their games ... Now I will try to sleep, and forget that I am alive."
She went back into the cubicle. Reith remained out on the balcony, first cursing himself, then wondering how he could have acted differently, unless he were composed of something other than flesh and blood.
Tomorrow, then: Dadiche, to learn once and for all the shape of his future.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NIGHT PASSED; morning came: first a wash of sepia light, then a wan yellow glare, then the appearance of Carina 4269. From the kitchens rose the smoke of fires, the rattle of pans. Reith descended to the common-room, where he found Anacho the Dirdirman before him, sitting over a bowl of tea. Reith joined him and was likewise brought tea by a kitchen-wench. He asked, "What do you know of Dadiche?"
Anacho warmed his long pale fingers around the bowl. "The city is relatively old: twenty thousand years or so. It is the main Chasch spaceport, though they have little communication with their homeworld Godag. South of Dadiche are factories and technical plants, and there is even some small trade between Dirdir and Chasch, though both parties pretend to the contrary. What do you seek at Dadiche?" And he fixed Reith with his owlish water-gray eyes.
Reith reflected. He gained nothing by confiding in Anacho, whom he still regarded as something of an unknown quantity. Finally he said, "The Chasch took something of value from me. I want to get it back, if possible."
"Interesting," said Anacho with a sardonic overtone to his voice. "I am piqued.
What could the Chasch take from a sub-man that he would travel a thousand leagues to recover? And how could he expect to recover it, or even find it?"
"I can find it. What happens next is the problem."
"You intrigue me," said the Dirdirman. "What do you propose to do first?"
"I need information. I want to learn if persons such as you and I can enter Dadiche and depart without hindrance."
"Not I," said Anacho. "They would smell me for a Dirdirman. They have noses of astonishing particularity. The food you eat delivers essences to your skin; the Chasch can identify these, and separate Dirdir from Wankh, marsh-dwellers from steppe-men, rich from the poor; not to mention the variations caused by disease, uncleanliness, unguents, waters, a dozen other conditions. They can smell salt air in a man's lungs if he has been near the ocean; they can detect ozone on a man coming down from the heights. They sense if you are hungry, or angry, or afraid; they can define your age, your sex, the color of your skin. Their noses provide them an entire dimension of perception."
Reith sat reflecting.
Anacho arose, went to a nearby table where sat three men in rough garments: men with waxy white-gray skins, light-brown hair, mild large eyes. To Anacho's questions they gave deferent responses; Anacho ambled back to Reith.
"Those three are drovers; they visit Dadiche regularly. The country is safe to the west of Pera; the Green Chasch avoid the city guns. No one will molest us along the road-"
"'Us'? You are coming?"
"Why not? I have never seen Dadiche or its outlying gardens. We can hire a pair of leap-horses and approach Dadiche within a mile or so. The Chasch seldom leave the city, so the drovers tell me."
"Good," said Reith. "I'll have a word with Traz; he can keep the girl company."
At a corral to the rear of the inn Reith and the Dirdirman hired leap-horses of a tall rubber-legged breed strange to Reith. The ostler threw on the saddles, shoved guide-bars through holes in the creatures' brains, at which they screamed and whipped the air with their palps. The reins were attached, Reith and Anacho vaulted up into the saddles; the beasts made angry sidling leaps, then sprang off down the road.
They passed through the center of Pera, where, over a considerable area, folk had built all manner of dwellings from the rubble and slabs of concrete. There was a greater population than Reith had expected, numbering perhaps four or five thousand. And up on top of the old citadel, brooding over all, was the crude mansion in which lived Naga Goho and his retinue of Ghashters.
Coming into the central plaza Reith and Anacho stopped short before a display of horrid objects. Beside a massive gibbet were flaying-stocks stained with blood.
Poles held aloft a pair of impaled men. From a derrick swung a small cage; inside crouched a naked sun-blackened creature, barely recognizable as a man. A
Gnashter lounged nearby, a heavy-jowled young man wearing a maroon vest and a knee-length black kilt: the Gnashter uniform. Reith reined up the leap-horse and, indicating the cage, addressed the Gnashter. "What was his crime?"
"Recalcitrance, when Naga Goho called his daughter to service."
"What then? How long does he swing thus?"
The Gnashter glanced up indifferently. "Another three days he'll last. The rain freshened him up; he's full of water."
"What of those?" Reith pointed to the impaled corpses.
"Defaulters. Certain graceless folk begrudge a tithe of their wealth to Naga Goho."
Anacho touched Reith's arm. "Come."
Reith slowly turned away; impossible to right all the wrongs of this dreadful planet. But looking back toward the wretch in the cage, he felt a flush of shame. Still-what options were open to him? To embroil himself with Naga Goho could easily mean the loss of his life, with no benefit to anyone. If he were able to regain his space-boat and return to Earth, the lot of all men on Tschai must be improved. So Reith told himself, and tried to put the dismal scene out of his mind.