The Venom Trees of Sunga
L. Sprague de Camp
Note
This story is a semisequel to my wife's and my science-fiction novel The Stones of Nomura (Bluejay, 1988). That is, it is synecumenal with (laid in the same world as) the previous novel, but a couple of decades later and with different characters. Among the less obvious pronunciations, I suggest:
Akbar as UCK-bar
Feënzuo as feh-en-zwaw
Gueilin as gway-lin
kyuumei as kew-may
Oõi as aw-oy
Seisen as say-sen
Sungao as soong-gow
"Shiiko" rhymes with "pekoe"; the "singh" of "Mahasingh" sounds like "single" without the "le."
I – The Ship Ijumo
The steamship Ijumo wheezed and puffed its way to the pier at Sungecho, on the island of Sunga, on the planet that Terrans called Kukulcan after an Aztec god. Kukulcan was a satellite of the star Epsilon Eridani. Kirk Sa-lazar stood with his parents' friends the Ritters at the rail.
"That's Sungecho," said Hilbert Ritter, graying and stoop-shouldered. "A lot of Terran riffraff have collected here; not a good place to explore alone at night."
On the bridge the Kukulcanian skipper, Captain Oyodo, bawled orders in the Sungao dialect of Feënzuo. He spoke in the harsh, rasping voice of his species, like the screams of an angry macaw.
"There's Alexis," said Hilbert Ritter, pointing.
"Where?" said Salazar. "Oh, you mean the redhead beside the armed Kook?" Terrans called the civilized reptiles of Kukulcan "Kooks."
"Yes. I think the Kook is a cop, though I can't quite make out his insignia."
The paddle wheels ceased their thrashing; the ship drifted up against the bumpers. Longshorekooks snubbed hawsers round bollards. The gangplank slammed down like the crack of doom, and a rush of Kook porters came aboard.
Kukulcanians were slender bipeds of vaguely dinosaurian appearance, taller and leaner than most Terrans. Their horny mouths gave them a turtle-beaked appearance, while their scaly hides bore painted symbols in a rainbow of colors. Otherwise unclad and displaying no visible organs of sex, they wore a harness of straps, whence dangled pouches and sheaths in lieu of pockets. They attacked the pile of luggage and marched back up the gangplank, each bearing a load that would have strained the broadest Terran back.
After the Kooks, Salazar and the Ritters clustered around the plank with others of the Patel Society's field trip. Lanky, graying Igor Tchitchagov, the director, stood at the base of the plank, waving his group ashore. As the Patelians shuffled up the plank, Salazar touched Ritter's arm and pointed, asking:
"Hey! How does Cantemir get ashore ahead of us? He's not a Patelian."
He pointed to a squat, stocky, ruddy, robust-looking man with bushy blond hair and beard, just stepping from plank to pier. Ritter sighed.
"George Cantemir does as he damn pleases, and he gets away with it because he's a flunky of the Reverend Dumfries, and Dumfries is in cahoots with High Chief Yaamo. By God, I think he's headed for Alexis!"
"He'll probably proposition her," said Suzette Ritter. "He's done it to every woman on the ship under a hundred and fifty—including me." She gave a little sputter of laughter.
"That's not funny," growled Ritter. "Least of all to me."
"Jealous, Hilbert?" said Suzette.
"Damn right! Now he's introducing himself, all smiles and smarmy charm. That Kook policeman has disappeared."
"She'll take care of herself," said Suzette. "What I don't understand," said Salazar, "is why, if the reverend is such a puritan, he puts up with George's womanizing. After all, the Bible has some nasty things to say about fornication."
"That's Saint Paul," said Ritter, stepping from the gangplank to the pier. "My preacher friend thinks Paul was not a celibate, as most suppose, but a married man who hated his wife. In the Old Testament they took a more relaxed attitude, allowing concubines—"
"Oh!" exclaimed Suzette.
Whatever Cantemir had said, Alexis Ritter backed away from him with an expression of fury. Salazar could not hear the words, but they must have been pungent. Cantemir moved a step towards her.
Salazar hesitated. He wanted to protect the Ritters' daughter not only because the Ritters were family friends but also because of a subliminal chivalrous drive to which he would not have admitted. On the other hand, in a rough-and-tumble with Cantemir, he would have all the chance of a snowball in the crater of Mount Sungara. Although like Cantemir he was of average height, the latter had half again his weight.
Kirk Sheffield Salazar was young and slim with rounded features, a toothbrush mustache, and a small chin, which led some unkindly to liken his face to that of a rabbit. Most Terrans knew how rabbits looked, although there were no rabbits on Kukulcan, thanks to the Interplanetary Council's rule against the importation of exotic species.
As the dispute between Cantemir and Alexis Ritter seemed about to explode, Salazar lengthened his stride. For two paces, fear of looking ridiculous kept him from breaking into a run. Then he thought, To hell with dignity, and ran towards the couple.
"Hey, George!" he called.
Cantemir turned his jowly face. "What is it, Kirk?" Salazar spoke to the girclass="underline" "You're Alexis Ritter, aren't you?"
"Yes. What—"
"Is George giving you trouble?"
"He—"
"Damn it, Kirk," said Cantemir, "mind your own goddamn business and go away!"
The girl said: "He made a—"
"Look," said Salazar, whose heart pounded between fear and combativeness, "this is the Ritters' daughter. You can't—"
Cantemir's ruddy face reddened further. "Didn't you hear me? I said bugger off!"
"Who the hell are you—"
Stepping closer, Cantemir brought up a fist. Salazar .had an instant thought: Oh, Lord, now I shall get the shit beat out of me in vain!
Cantemir aimed his punch at Salazar's jaw. Salazar jerked his head back, but the blow glanced off his cheekbone with enough force to stagger him.
Behind Cantemir, Alexis swung her handbag in a swift circle. The bag struck Cantemir on the side of his head with a clank, audible above the noise of wind, wave, and disembarkation. Cantemir stretched his stubby length on the splintery planks of the pier.
The older Ritters hastened nigh. Hilbert Ritter demanded: "What's going on here?"
Salazar faced Alexis, seeing a pretty, slightly plump young woman of stocky, muscular build in well-filled shirt and slacks. She received him with a toothsome grin. "Thanks! You gave him just the distraction I needed."
"Nothing very heroic, I'm—"
Hilbert Ritter said: "Alexis, this is—"
"I know," said Alexis. "You're the Salazars' boy Kirk, aren't you?"
She extended a hand. Salazar shook, receiving a crushing grip. He knew the appearance of plumpness was deceptive; she was all muscle.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"Don't you remember my fourteenth birthday party?"
Salazar thought. "Oh, yes. You're the one who pushed me off the roof! Lucky you didn't break my neck."
"But you had such a runny expression on the way down! Hey, the slob's reviving!"
Cantemir hauled himself to his feet, felt the spot where the weighted bag had struck him, and with an angry growl started toward Alexis Ritter and Kirk Salazar. As he approached, he fumbled in a trouser pocket and produced a small pistol.
"George!" said an extraordinarily resonant, penetrating voice.
Cantemir instantly ceased his advance. Alexis, who had been swinging her bag in small arcs, let its motion dampen out. Salazar, who had suffered an instant of stark fear, looked at the speaker, the Reverend Valentine Dumfries.