The Tale of the Cat
by Poul Anderson
Illustration by Janet Aulisio
Earth was the mother and her Kith Town the small motherland of every starfarer; but there were other worlds where humans dwelt. At those the ships were almost always welcome, bearers of tidings and wares that bridged, however thinly, the abysses between. It was not perennially so on Earth.
Thus, over the centuries, Tau Ceti became the sun to which voyagers from afar often sought first. Its Harbor was as homelike as any known extra-solar planet, and usually at peace. News beamed from Sol arrived only eleven and a half years old; if you had felt unsure, you could now lay plans. Whether or not you went on to that terminus, here was a good place to stop for a while, do business, make fresh acquaintances and breathe fresh winds. A Kith village grew up, stabilized, and settled into its own timelessness.
Spanning the distances they did, zero-zero drives running them on the heels of light and time aboard dilated by gamma factors in the hundreds, vessels could hardly ever prearrange a rendezvous. It was occasion for rejoicing and intermingling when two happened to be in the same port. When three or more did, it meant a Fair.
Fleetwing came to Harbor and found Argosy and Eagle in orbit. Argosy was about to depart, but immediately postponed it. Profits could wait; they were no longer large anyway. Fellowship, courtship, exchange of experiences, renewal of ties, the rites that affirmed and strengthened Kithhood, mattered more.
Ormer Shaun, second mate aboard Fleetwing, and Haki Tensaro, who dealt in textiles wherever Eagle might be, walked together through the village, bound for the story circle. Tensaro wanted to hear what Shaun would tell; they had become friendly in the past few days, and besides, a real yarnspinning with a bardic accompaniment was an art practiced in just four ships, which did not include Eagle. The two men had met for a beer in the Orion and Bull before starting out, and continued their conversation as they proceeded. It had gradually, unintendedly, gone from merry to earnest.
“A disappointment, I admit,” Shaun said. Sounds of revelry beat beneath his words. “Not so much for me, or most of our crew. But the boy, he was really looking forward to all the ancient marvels.”
“We’re quite safe on Earth nowadays, I tell you,” Tensaro argued. “No more persecution.”
“They still don’t like us, though, do they? To go by what everybody’s been saying.”
Tensaro shrugged. “I’ve seen things better there, but I’ve seen them worse, too. I think the next generation will be pretty tolerant.”
“Up to a point. I doubt we’ll ever again be exactly popular, anywhere on Earth outside of Kith Town.”
“Why not?”
Shaun paused to marshal words. He contrasted with Tensaro, who was slim and intense, clad in formfitting lusterblack with white sash and cloak, and a headband on which a miniature light fountain made a dancing cockade. Shaun stood bigger than most Kithfolk, stocky, his features rugged and his hair a dark mahogany. For his garb today he had chosen a blouse that slowly shifted color across the visible spectrum, a vest of silver links, a broad leather belt studded with Aerian eyestones, a shaggy green kilt, and knee-length boots. A beret slanted across his brow. Both outfits were traditional festival garb, but the traditions belonged to two different ships.
“Earth doesn’t have enough to do with space any more,” Shaun said. “People get in the habit of taking their ways to be the only right and decent ways. Governments feed on that. Meanwhile we insist on being peculiar, and bringing in unheard-of notions from elsewhere, and asking troublesome questions.”
The street down which they passed seemed to belie him. Turf covered it, springy and pebble-grained underfoot, breathing a slight odor not unlike rosemary into cooling air. On one side a lyre tree curved its double trunk and feathery foliage aloft, on the other side an arachnea spread its web across a cloud tinted gold by the westering sun. The houses that lined the street stood each on its piece of lawn, among its flowerbeds. They were of archaic styles, tending to pastel walls and red-tiled roofs; time had softened their edges. All were currently vacant. Most of the families that owned them were afar among the stars, leaving machines to tend the property. Everyone staying here, whether as transient or permanently, had flocked off to the Fair.
Between the houses glimmered a glimpse of water. Beyond it the cliffs of Belderland rose white. Opposite, native forest spread red-splashed ochers and golds above the roofs. Long since deeded to the Kith, the Isle of Weyan retained much wilderness.
“Yes,” Shaun said, “I think Fleetwing’ll elect to make another swing from here—not as long as last time, of course, but we can give Earth forty or fifty years more to mellow further before we show our noses there again. The boy’ll be disappointed, like I said. But, what the gyre, learning how to wait things out is part of becoming a Kithman.”
“Well, if that’s what your crew favors, so be it,” Tensaro replied. “I expect you can sell what you’re carrying on Aurora or Maia as well as here. It’ll probably be exotic enough to fetch a price. But really, you’re too pessimistic. I can understand how your last visit to Earth was embittering and made you decide on a long cruise. Nowadays, though—”
A trumpet cut him off. The noise from ahead had been waxing as they walked: voices, foot-thuds, song, boom and bang, the racket of merriment. Shaun and Tensaro came abruptly out onto open ground, where the Fair was. It surrounded the village. They had crossed from the tavern on one edge to this side.
Shaun threw up his hands. His laugh rang. “Haki, us old fools, we’ve gotten serious! What ails us? Did the beer wear off that fast? Come on, let’s get back to our proper business today.”
He quickened his pace. His companion grinned wryly and trotted along.
People swarmed about. Folk costumes from the separate ships mingled with gaudy individual choices, often inspired on other worlds in other eras. A middle-aged couple strolled by, he in the blue-and-gold tunic and flowing white trousers, she in the red frock, saffron cloak, and massive jewelry of Eagle. Shaun smiled at a young woman he knew aboard Fleetiving. Her brief and gauzy gown twinkling with star-points, she walked hand in hand with a young man whose fringed yellow shirt and black knee breeches said Argosy. Memory stirred—courtships flowered like fire when crews met, and if the marriages that followed took place quickly, they endured, for the elders of both families had first considered what was wise. Shaun’s wife was a Flying Cloud girl; but his brother had joined his own bride on High Barbaree, because that seemed best… Children dashed around, shouting, marveling bits of rainbow.
Pavilions had been erected throughout the area, big and gaudy. Banners above them caught the sea breeze and the evening light. From one drifted savory smells and the sounds of clinking cups and cheery chatter. In another, a benched audience watched a classic drama, performed live; in another they heard a concert, which included music brought back from artists who were not all human; in another, visual artworks were on display, created aboard ship as well as on remote planets, and in this quiet atmosphere a few officers took the opportunity to discuss business or exchange information. In a clear space, a band played lustily for scores of dancers. Mirth whooped as some tried to learn, from others, measures new to them—the sarali, the Henriville, the double prance.
Nearby stood the Monument Stone. The bronze plate on it shone bright, having lately replaced a worn-out predecessor. The inscription was the same, Here camped Jean Kilbirnie and Timothy Cleland of the first expedition to Harbor, afterward of Envoy and our future in the cosmos, with a date in a calendar long superseded. Likewise, only scholars could read the language, ancestral to Kithic, but everybody knew what it said. A few meters off, wood was heaped to be burned after dark—fire, evoking prehistoric memories and instincts older still, doubly strong in a people who rarely saw it.