Trullion: Alastor 2262 (8 page)

“Where would I fit in? And what about the nine thousand ozols?”

Lord Gensifer said cautiously, “As to your first question, you must remember that I haven’t seen you play recently. For all I know, you’ve gone slow and spur… Where are you going?”

“Thank you for the rum punch,” said Glumes.

“Just a minute. No need to get temperamental. After all, I spoke only the plain truth. I haven’t seen you for ten years. Still, if you played with the sector champions, no doubt you’re in good shape. What is your position?”

“Anything but sheirl. With the 93rd I played strike and rover.”

Lord Gensifer poured Glinnes more punch. “No doubt something can be arranged. But you must understand my position. I’m going after the best. If you’re the best you’ll play for the Gorgons. If you’re not well, we’ll need substitutes. That’s sheer common sense-nothing to get excited about.”

“Well then, what about the nine thousand ozols?” Lord Gensifer sipped his punch. “I should think that if all goes well, and if you are playing for the club, you should take nine thousand ozols in booty in a very short time.”

“In other words-you won’t advance me the money?”

Lord Gensifer held up his hands. “Do you imagine that ozols grow on trees? I need money as badly as anyone. In fact — well, I won’t go into details.”

“If you’re all that short of money, how can you finance a treasure-box?” Lord Gensifier airily flicked his fingers. “No difficulty there. Whatever funds are jointly available we’ll use-your three thousand ozols as well. It’s all for the common cause.”

“Glinnes could hardly believe his ears. “My three thousand ozols? You want me to advance the fund? While you take an owner’s share of booty?”

Lord Gensifer, smiling, leaned back in his chair. “Why not? Each contributes his best and his most, and each of us profits. That’s the only way to operate. There’s no reason to be scandalized.” Glinnes replaced his goblet on the tray. “It’s just not done. The players contribute their skills, the club funds the treasure-box. I wouldn’t give you an ozol; I’d organize my own team first.”

“Just a moment. Perhaps we can work out a procedure that will please us all. Frankly, I’m short of cash. You need twelve thousand ozols within the year; your three thousand is worthless without the other nine.”

“Not exactly worthless. It represents ten years’ service in the Whelm.”

Lord Gensifer waved aside the remark. “Suppose that you advance three thousand ozols to the fund. The first three thousand ozols we earn will go to you; you’ll have your money back, and then — “The other players wouldn’t allow such an arrangement.” Lord Gensifer pulled at his lower lip. “Well, the money could come from the club’s share of the booty-in other words, out of my personal purse.”

“Suppose there isn’t any purse; suppose we lose my three thousand ozols? Then what? Nothing!”

“We don’t plan to lose! Think positive, Glinnes!”

“I’m thinking positively about my money.”

Lord Gensifer heaved a deep sigh. “As I say, my own financial status is at the moment up in the air … Suppose that we make this arrangement. You advance three thousand ozols to the club treasury. We will at first try for five-thousand-ozol teams, which we should handily demolish, and build up the treasury to ten thousand ozols. We then schedule ten-thousand-ozol teams. At this point booty will be distributed and you will be repaid from the club’s share-the work of a game or two. Thenceforth I will lend you half the club’s share until you have your nine thousand ozols, which you can thereupon repay from your ordinary share.” Glinnes tried to calculate in his head. “I don’t understand any of this. You’ve left me far behind.”

“It’s simple. If we win five ten-thousand ozol games, you, have your money.”

“If we win. If we lose, I have nothing. Not even the three thousand that I have now.”

Lord Gensifer flourished his list of names. “This team won’t lose games, I assure you of that!”

“You don’t have that team! You don’t have a fund. You don’t even have a sheirl.”

“No lack of applicants there, my boy. Not for the Fleharish Gorgons! I’ve already talked to a dozen beautiful creatures.”

“All certified, no doubt.”

“We’ll certify them, never fear! But what a ridiculous business! A naked virgin looks like any other naked girl. Who’s to know the difference?”

“The team. Irrational, I agree, but hussade is an irrational game.”

“I’ll drink to that,” declared Lord Gensifer rather boisterously. “Who cares a fig for rationality? Only Fanschers and Trevanyi!”

Glinnes drained his goblet and rose to his feet. “I must be on my way home and see to my personal Trevanyi. Glay gave them the freedom of Rabendary and they plundered in all directions.”

Lord Gensifer nodded sagely. “You can’t give a Trevanyi anything but what he’ll take double for contempt … Well, to revert to the three thousand ozols, what is your decision?”

“I’ll want to consider the matter very carefully indeed. As for that list of players how many have actually committed themselves?”

“Well — several ”

“I’ll talk to them all and learn if they’re really serious.”

Lord Gensifer frowned. “Hmm. Let’s think this over a bit. In fact, will you stay for a bite of dinner? I’m quite alone tonight, and I detest dining in solitude.”

“That’s very kind of you, Lord Gensifer, but I’m hardly dressed for dinner at a manor.”

Lord Gensifer made a deprecatory motion. “Tonight we’ll dine informally-although I could lend you formal kit, if you insisted.” “

Well, no. I am not that meticulous, if you’re not.”

“Tonight we’ll dine as we are. Perhaps you’d like to watch more of the championship game.” “As a matter of fact, I would.” “Good. Rallo! Fresh punch! This has lost its zest.”

The great oval dinner table was set for two. Lord Gensifer and Glinnes faced each other across the expanse of white linen; silver and crystal glittered under the blaze of a chandelier. “It may seem strange to you,” said Lord Gensifer, “that I can live in what might seem extravagant style and still be strapped for cash. But it’s simple enough. My income derives from invested capital, and I’ve had reverses. Starmenters looted a pair of warehouses and set my company back on its heels. Strictly temporary, of course, but for the moment my income just barely matches my outgo. Do you know of Bela Gazzardo?”

“I’ve heard the name. A starmenter?” “The villain who cut my income in half. The Whelm can’t seem to come to grips with him.”

“Sooner or later he’ll be taken. Only inconspicuous starmenters survive. When they attain reputation their number is up.”

“Bela Gazzardo’s been starmenting for many years,” said Lord Gensifer. “The Whelm is always in a different sector.”

“Sooner or later he’ll be taken.”

Dinner proceeded, a repast of a dozen excellent courses, each accompanied by flasks of fine wine. Glinnes reflected that life in a manor was not without its pleasant aspects, and his fancy roamed the future, when he had earned twenty or thirty thousand ozols, or a hundred thousand, and Lute Casagave had been expelled from Ambal Isle and the manse was empty. Then, what an adventure to renew, redecorate, refurnish! Glinnes saw himself in stately garments entertaining a throng of notables at a table like Lord Gensifer*s

Glinnes laughed at the thought. Who would he invite to his dinner parties? Akadie? Young Harrad? Carbo Gilweg? The Drossets? Though for a fact Duissane would look extraordinarily lovely in such surroundings. Glinnes’ imagination included the rest of the family and the picture burst.Dusk had long since waned when Glinnes finally climbed into his boat. The night was clear; overhead hung a myriad stars, magnified to the size of lamps. Elevated by the wine, by the large prospects that Lord Gensifer had suggested, by the ‘ halcyon beauty of starlight on calm black water, Glinnes sent, his boat scudding across Fleharish Broad and up Selma; Water.

Under the glorious Trullion night his problems dissolved into wisps of unreasonable petulance. Glay and Fanscherade? A fad, an antic, a trifle. Marucha and her foolishness? Let her be, let her be; what better occupation lay; open to her? Lord Gensifer and his crafty proposals?

They might just eventuate as Lord Gensifer hoped! But the absurdity of it all! Instead of borrowing nine thousand ozols, he had barely escaped with his own three thousand intact! Lord Gensifer’s schemes no doubt derived from a desperate need of money, thought Glinnes. No matter how affable and how ostensibly candid, Lord Gensifer was still a man to be dealt with most carefully.

Up narrow Selma Water drifted the boat, past hushberry brakes and bowers of soft white lanting, then out upon Ambal Broad, where a small breeze shivered the star-reflections into a tinkling twinkling carpet. To the right stood Ambal Isle, surmounted by fanzaneel frond-clusters; they lay on the sky like splashes of black ink. And there ahead-Rabendary Island, dear Rabendary, and his home dock. The house showed no light. Was no one at home? Where was Marucha? Visiting friends, most likely.

The boat coasted up to the dock. Glinnes climbed up on the groaning old boards, made fast the boat, walked up the path to the house. A creak of leather, a shuffle of steps. Shadows moved; dark shapes occulted the stars. Heavy objects struck down upon his head and neck and shoulders, thudding and jarring, grinding his teeth, grating his vertebrae, filling his nose with an ammoniacal reek. He fell to the ground. Heavy blows struck into his ribs, his head; the impacts rumbled and groaned like thunder and filled the total space of the world. He tried to roll away, to curl into a knot, but his senses wandered away.

The kicking ceased; Glinnes floated on a cloud of enervation. From far far away he noticed hands exploring his person. A harsh whisper rang in his brain: “Get the knife, get the knife.” Further touches, then another flurry of kicks. From a great distance Glinnes thought to hear a trill of reckless laughter. Consciousness fragmented like droplets of mercury; Glinnes lay in a torpor.

Time passed; the carpet of stars slid across the sky. Slowly, slowly, from many directions, the components of consciousness began to wander back together. Something strong and cold seized Glinnes’ ankle, drew him down the path toward the water. Glinnes groaned and spread out his fingers to clutch the sod, without effect. He kicked with all his strength and struck into something pulply. The grip on his ankle loosened. Glinnes painfully hunched up on hands and knees and crawled back up the path. The merling came after him and resumed its grip. Glinnes again kicked out and the merling croaked in annoyance.

Glinnes rolled weakly over. Under the Trullion starblaze man and merling confronted each other. Glinnes began to slide back on his haunches, a foot at a time. The merling hopped forward. Glinnes’ back struck the steps leading up to the verandah. Underneath were fence-staves cut from prickle-bush. Glinnes turned and groped; his fingers touched one of the staves. The merling snatched and once more dragged him toward the water. Glinnes thrashed like a grounded fish, and breaking free, struggled back to the verandah. The merling uttered a dismal croak and jumped forward; Glinnes grasped a stave and thrust it at the creature’s groin; it sagged away. Glinnes hunched himself up on the stairs, stave ready; the merling dared approach no further. Glinnes crawled into the house, forced himself to stand erect. He tottered to the light-switch, and brought glow into the house. He stood swaying. His head throbbed, his eyes refused to focus. Breathing tore at his ribs; conceivably several were broken. His thighs ached where his attackers had sought to make pulp of his crotch, failing only for the poor illumination. A new and sharper pang struck him; he felt for his wallet. Nothing. He looked down at his boot scabbard; his marvelous proteum knife was gone. Glinnes sighed in fury. Who had done this? He suspected the Drossets. Recalling the tinkle of merry laughter, he was certain.

In the morning Marucha had not yet arrived home; Glinnes presumed that she spent the night with a lover. Glinnes was happy that she was not on hand; she would have analyzed every aspect of his folly, for which he was not in the mood. Glinnes lay on the couch, aching in every bone, sweating with hatred for the Drossets.

He staggered into the bathroom, examined his purple face. In the cabinet he found a pain-relieving potion, with which he dosed himself, then limped back to the couch. He dozed off and on throughout the morning. At noon the telephone chime sounded. Glinnes stumbled across the room and spoke into the mesh, without showing his face to the screen. “Who’s calling?”

“This is Marucha,” came his mother’s clear voice. “Glinnes-are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Well then, show yourself; I detest speaking to persons I can’t see.” Glinnes fumbled around with the vision-push. The buttons seems to be stuck. Can you see me?”

“No, I cannot. Well, it doesn’t matter. Glinnes I’ve come to a decision. Akadie has long wanted me to share his home, and now that you are back and presently will be bringing a woman into the house, I have agreed to the arrangement.”

Glinnes only half restrained a mournful chuckle. How his father Jut would have roared in wrath!

“My best wishes for your happiness, mother, and please convey my respects to Akadie.”

Marucha peered into the screen. “Glinnes, your voice sounds strange. Are you well?”

“Yes, indeed — just a bit hoarse. After you’ve settled yourself I’ll come over for a visit.”

“Very well, Glinnes. Do take care of yourself, and please don’t be too stern with the Drossets. If they want to stay on Rabendary, where is the harm in it?”

“I’ll certainly consider your advice, mother. ”

“Good-by Glinnes.”

The screen faded. Glinnes heaved a deep sigh and winced for the zig-zags of pain across his ribs. Were any broken? He explored with his fingers, prodding the most tender areas, and could come to no decision. He took a bowl of porridge out on the verandah and ate a dreary meal. The Drossets, of course, had departed, leaving a litter of rubbish, a pile of dead foliage, a dispiried outhouse of branches and fronds to mark the site of their camp. Three thousand four hundred ozols they had earned by their night’s I work, as well as the pleasure of punishing their persecutor. The Drossets were well-pleased today.