"I want no alms; I want transportation," said Etzwane. He climbed into the diligence. "Take me to Fontenay's Inn, on Galias Avenue."
"You have money?"
"Not in these garments. At Fontenay's you will be paid; accept my word for this."
The driver flicked the pacer into motion. Etzwane called up to him, "What has been happening in Garwiy? I have been away for months."
"Nothing of any great moment. The Green and Purple have weighed us down with taxes; they are more ambitious with their schemes than was the Anome… I like air at my neck instead of the torc, but now the Green and Purple want me to pay for my liberty. Which is better: cheap submission or expensive independence?"
Through the dusk rolled the diligence, along streets which seemed quaint and small, dearly familiar and somehow remote. On Kahei, Garwiy had seemed a dream-yet it existed. Here in Garwiy, Kahei had become an abstraction-and it too existed. Elsewhere was the world of the black globe-ships with the human crews. He would never learn the actuality of this world.
The diligence halted before Fontenay's Inn; the driver looked truculently down at Etzwane. "Now then, my money, if you please."
"One moment. " Etzwane went into the inn, to find Fontenay sitting at a table enjoying a flask of his own merchandise. Fontenay frowned at the ragged apparition, then recognizing Etzwane, uttered an ejaculation of astonishment. "What is this? Gastel Etzwane in rags for a charade?"
"No charade, but an adventure from which I have only now returned. Be so good as to pay off this importunate driver, then let me have a room, a bath, a barber, some fresh garments, and finally a good dinner."
"Nothing could give me more pleasure," said Fontenay. He snapped his fingers. "Heinel! Jared! See to Gastel Etzwane's convenience! " Fontenay turned back to Etzwane. "Can you guess who plays music on yonder bandstand? In half an hour he will arrive."
"Dystar the druithine? " "Alas, not Dystar! It is Frolitz and his Pink-Black-Azure-Deep Greeners."
"This is good news," said Etzwane from the depths of his heart. "I can think of no one I would rather see."
"Well then, make yourself comfortable. A merry evening lies before us."
Etzwane bathed himself with zeaclass="underline" the first warm bath he had known since departing Fontenay's with Ifness. He dressed in fresh garments, then a barber trimmed his hair and shaved his face. What of his sour-smelling rags? He was tempted to keep them for mementos, but threw them away.
He went down to the common room, to find Frolitz in conversation with Fontenay. Frolitz leapt to his feet and embraced Etzwane. "Well then, my lad! I haven't seen you for months, and I hear that you have enjoyed a picaresque adventure! You always were the one for foibles and quixotries! But now, here you are, and looking-how shall I say it?-full of strange knowledge. What music have you been playing?"
Etzwane laughed. "I started to learn a Great Song of fourteen thousand cantos, but mastered only twenty or thereabouts."
"A good beginning! Perhaps we shall hear some of these tonight. I have taken on another man, a clever young Paganese, but he lacks elasticity. I doubt if he will ever learn. You shall have your old seat and Chad-do can work the sliding bass. What do you say to that?"
"I say, first, that I cannot play tonight; I would astound you all! Second, I am famished for a meal; I have been to Caraz and subsisted on porridge. Third, in regard to the future; it is a void."
"Outside interests constantly interfere with your music," declared Frolitz peevishly. "I suppose you came to meet your old friend, whose name I forget. I have seen him often during the past few days; for a fact, there he goes now, to his usual table in the corner. Take my advice and ignore him."
The advice is good," said Etzwane in a strained voice. "Nevertheless, I must have a word with Ifness, and I will join you later."
Etzwane crossed the room, to stand before the table in the corner. "I am surprised to see you."
Ifness looked up blankly then gave a brusque nod. "Ah, Etzwane, you catch me at a hurried moment I must take a quick meal and depart."
Etzwane sank into a chair and stared into the long, austere face as if to bring forth Ifness' secrets by visual suction, "Ifness, one of us must be insane. Who is it, you or I?"
Ifness made an irritated gesture. "It would work to the same effect; in either case an equal disparity of opinion would exist. But, as I put forward, I- "
Etzwane spoke as if he had not heard. "Do you recall the circumstances of our leave-taking?"
Ifness frowned. "Why should I not do so? The event occurred at a place in north-central Caraz on a day I cannot precisely name. I believe that you departed in pursuit of a barbarian maiden, or some such thing. As I recall, I warned you against the project."
"This was the general nature of the event. You went off to arrange a rescue operation."
A waiter set a tureen before Ifness, who raised the lid, sniffed, then ladled forth a bowl of green sea-fruit soup. Ifness came back to Etzwane's remark with an abstracted frown. "Let me see; what were the circumstances? They included the Alula tribesmen and Hozman Sore-throat. You wanted to organize a gallant expedition into the skies to rescue a girl who had struck your fancy. I pronounced such an effort impractical and even suicidal. I am glad to see that you were dissuaded."
I remember the matter from a different perspective," said Etzwane. "I proposed to capture the depot ship; you stated that such an acquisition would interest the Earth folk and that a rescue ship might arrive in a minimum of two or three weeks."
"Yes, this was the case. I mentioned the matter to Dasconetta, who felt that such a step exceeded the capabilities of his office, and nothing came of it. " Ifness tasted of his soup and sprinkled a few flakes of pepper pod upon the surface. "In any case, the eventualities were the same, and you need feel no more concern."
Etzwane controlled his voice with an effort. "How could eventualities be the same when a shipload of captives is taken to a far planet?"
"I speak in a broad sense," said Ifness. "As for myself, my work has taken me far afield. " He glanced at his chronometer. "I have yet a few minutes. The asutra that I took here in Shant, and others, have been studied. You may be interested in what I have learned."
Etzwane leaned back in his chair. "By all means, tell me about the asutra."
Ifness consumed his soup with slow, easy sweeps of the spoon. "Something of what I will tell you is conjecture, some is induction, some observation, and some derives from direct communication. The asutra are a very old race, with an exceedingly long history. As we know, they are parasites evolved from a kind of swamp leech. They accumulate information upon the face of crystals inside their abdomen. These crystals grow and the asutra grows. A large abdomen indicates much stored wisdom; the larger the abdomen, the higher the caste. The asutra communicate among themselves by nervous impulses, or perhaps telepathy; an array of specialized asutra is capable of the most complicated intellectual tasks.
"It is a truism that intelligence develops during a time of gradually worsening conditions; so it was with the asutra. They had and have a high reproductive rate; each asutra produces a million spawn, which are oriented according to one of two modes and which must make juncture with an opposite mode to become viable. In the early days the asutra overpopulated their swamps and were forced to compete for hosts: a challenge which urged them to domesticate hosts, to build stables and pens, and to control their own reproductive rate.