Read Times Without Number Online
Authors: John Brunner
Times Without Number (4 page)
The faceless head gazed at him. "Your presumption," said the Jesuit
coldly, and hesitated, so that Don Miguel had a little while in which
to wonder in what sense he was using the word presumption, "is correct."
Don Miguel murmured a barely audible word of thanks and resolved to hold
his tongue until next spoken to.
"May we leave the technical aspects of this in the hands of your staff,
then, Father?" the Prince inquired.
"I think for the moment that will be the wisest course. Immediately I have
further information, I will relay it to the Council for a decision."
"Good!" The Prince seemed very pleased at abandoning that portion of the
discussion, and turned at once to another which appeared to interest him
more. "We come now to the associated problems which have been entailed
by this affair. To begin with -- Navarro!"
The last word was uttered in so sharp a bark that Don Miguel jumped.
"Navarro, what possessed you to arrest the Marquesa di Jorque when she was
so plainly an innocent party in this case?"
Don Miguel's heart sank so rapidly he could almost feel it arriving in
his boots. He said stiffly, "I acted, sir, in strict accordance with
the law and the rules of the Society."
"Heaven's name, man! Didn't anyone ever tell you that to stick rigidly
to the letter of the law is the mark of a man without imagination? I've
studied the information laid before me, and it's perfectly clear that her
ladyship acted throughout in unquestionable good faith. I'm discharging
her from custody here and now, and I require you to apologise to her
before she returns to her domains at Jorque."
What?
There was no hope of arguing with the Commander of the Society, especially
not in the presence of outsiders, but Don Miguel was horrified. Was not
the law, in both letter and spirit, mankind's chief bulwark against the
forces of chaos? Even from a Prince of the Blood he could not accept an
order to apologise for acting in accordance with the law!
He grew aware that everyone was waiting for him to comply. The invisible
faces of the General Officers were turned to stare at him, and the
Marquesa, suddenly repossessed of her usual poise, was glaring at him
triumphantly, tapping her manicured fingers on the arm of her chair.
To cover his uncertainty, he rose slowly to his feet. By the time he
was erect he had decided what to say.
"Sir, with all respect to you as a Prince and my Commander, I will not
apologise to the Marquesa for doing as the law lays down. I
will
apologise
for not realising that she is an innocent."
An innocent. A simpleton, in other words. He hoped the distinction would
penetrate.
It did. The Marquesa stiffened with fury and the countenance of the
Prince began to purple; Don Miguel braced himself for the impact of his
royal wrath. But the tension broke suddenly -- broke against a thin,
rather high-pitched laugh. With amazement Don Miguel realised it came
from Father Ramón.
"Commander, that is an apology exactly meet for the case," the Jesuit
exclaimed. "Surely anyone but an innocent would have wondered how so
magnificent an artefact came to be on sale instead of in a museum?"
The Prince thought that over for a moment. Eventually he gave a tentative
chuckle, and the chuckle developed into an outright guffaw in which the
other General Officers joined. To the accompaniment of their mirth the
Marquesa hastened from the hall, her shoulders bowed with humiliation.
Don Miguel, surprised by so easy a victory, slowly resumed his chair.
"Well!" the Prince said at length. "I suppose I can look forward now
to an almighty row with my cousin the Duchess of Jorque -- but never
mind, Father, you were perfectly correct about Navarro's apology, as
I realise now I think it over. It would be a good thing, though, if we
sorted the rest of the matter out before the storm breaks; at least I'd
have a chance to argue back!" He raised a stern finger to point to Don
Miguel. "Since you triggered the crisis, I trust you've taken steps of
your own to sort it out? For instance, have you discovered where the
mask came from in our own time?"
More than ever uncertain of himself, because it struck him as somehow
unfitting for a Prince of the Blood to refer so casually to the likelihood
of a family quarrel, Don Miguel said, "Ah -- well, sir, as you know,
Don Arcimboldo Ruiz bought the mask from the merchant Higgins, who is
present. And the latter maintains that he in his turn acquired it from
a stranger who called at his shop in the market outside Jorque."
"Yes, I've already been told about this." The Prince turned thoughtful
eyes on Higgins, who tried to sink through the seat of his chair; he was a
middle-aged man without great personality. "Concerning this stranger, then!
What proof did he offer that he was legally in possession of the mask?"
The merchant glanced from side to side as though seeking a way of
escape. Finding none, he babbled in the flat broad accent that Peabody
exhibited also, and most of the people in the north of England, "Your
highness, I swear! I swear what I said is true! I bought it from a
stranger, on the first day of April as I recall."
"Are you always so ready to do business with strangers?"
"Sir, never! Never in my life before!" Higgins's voice dropped to a
bare whisper. "I can only say I must have been mad -- must have had
a brainstom, your highness! For I cannot recall the man's face, and
I failed to enter his name in my account-book! Never in my life have
I done any such thing before -- ask anyone who knows me in Jorque,
they'll say I'm a respectable merchant and -- "
"Enough!" Curtly the Prince cut short the stammered flow of
words. "Navarro, have you investigated the fellow's story?"
"I have, sir. And it does seem to be true that up till now Higgins has
been a man of excellent reputation. I've spoken to several people who
have sold or pawned him goods, and they say he has always been careful
to ascertain they had proper title to what they were offering. He has
had a number of extratemporal objects through his hands -- small curios
not worth space in a museum -- and the office of the Society in Jorque
has always found him scrupulously careful about checking the importation
licence."
"Yet this time he buys contraband from a total stranger! He must indeed
have had a brainstorm!"
"And sold it to me, your highness!" Don Arcimboldo spoke up diffidently.
"To me who had no reason for questioning his right to its possession."
The Prince shrugged. "That's as may be, Don Arcimboldo -- one still wonders
why you didn't suspect it of being imported illegally. Still, I grant that
Higgins's alleged respectability would have disinclined you to investigate."
"Sir." A single dry word from one of the hitherto silent General Officers.
Don Miguel tensed, for even that one word betrayed the unmistakable accent
of a Mohawk. His guess at the speaker's identity was confirmed in the next
second by the Prince.
"Yes, Red Bear?"
The Director of Fieldwork for the Society! They'd really brought the big
guns to bear on this case!
"A motion, sir," Red Bear grunted. "That the merchant be further
interrogated. That Don Arcimboldo be discharged as an innocent party.
That we continue in private session to discuss what has passed."
There was a murmur of agreement from his colleagues. The Prince slapped
his palm on the table with a sound like a pistol-shot.
"So resolved! Clear the room," he added in a lower tone to his personal
aide.
Don Miguel made to rise, but the Prince motioned him back to his seat
with a frown, and he complied with a sense of apprehension. It was not
exactly normal practice for a lowly Licentiate of the Society with a
mere four years of service and five field trips to his credit to be
invited to sit in during a confidential meeting of the General Officers.
Someone -- and from his just-uttered remarks it might well be Red Bear --
was obviously taking this matter very seriously indeed.
V
As soon as all non-members of the Society had left the Chamber and the
doors had been locked with a great slamming of heavy bolts, the lights
went up and the officers relaxed in their chairs, shaking back the cowls
from their heads. Don Miguel was almost surprised to discover that in full
illumination the Chamber was just a room -- large, palatial, but simply
a room. And, equally, the General Officers were ordinary men. There was
exceptional character and experience stamped on their faces; nonetheless,
they were men.
He found himself able to relax a little also.
The Prince fumbled a large pipe from a pouch at his belt and stuffed it
with tobacco in coarse-cut hunks. Lighting it, he mumbled around the stem.
"Well, young Navarro, I don't mind telling you that you put the cat in
the pigeoncote with this rash act of yours!"
A harsh grunt, as though to say "understatement!", came from Red Bear,
whose long Indian face was framed in elegantly dressed black braids as
slick as oil.
Father Ramón, seated between Red Bear and the Prince, passed a thin hand
over his bald cranium in a way that suggested he had acquired in youth
the habit of running his fingers through his hair and still expected
subconsciously to find some on his scalp. His face reminded Don Miguel
of a bird, with the skin stretched tight around a beaky nose and little,
very bright eyes.
He said quietly, "Sir, it may have been an unavoidable cat."
The Prince shrugged, his pipe pouting out smoke like a bonfire. "I'd be
inclined to dispute that . . . if I didn't know better than to dispute
with one of your Order, Father! What I mean, though, is what I say:
I hold that Navarro has caused us a deal of unnecessary botheration."
The Jesuit looked worried. "Again, I can't agree. In my view he has
so far acted sensibly, apart from taking the Marquesa di Jorque into
custody." He turned to face Don Miguel directly.
"How old are you, my son?"
"Ah . . . I'm nearly thirty, Father."
"In that case you should by now be better able to judge people. I think
five minutes' conversation with the Marquesa should have sufficed to
inform you that she would never in a million years have thought to
inquire of the Society's office about the mask she'd been given. Like
a child with a new toy, she'd have been too afraid of losing it."
It hardly seemed to Don Miguel that the greed of a fading beauty should
be allowed to excuse an infringement of the Society's rules; however,
he was glad that the Jesuies reproof had been so mild, and held his peace.
"On the other hand," Father Ramón continued, "I confess I'm greatly
puzzled by the story which the merchant tells. I seem to recall seeing
in his deposition that our brother Navarro admired feeling annoyed with
the Marquesa because she was showing him off like a performing animal to
her other guests. That remark struck home, because -- as I hardly need
to remind you -- the work of the Society itself runs the risk of being
turned into a mere spectacle for sensation-seekers."
Like a spark and gunpowder, two facts came together in Don Miguel's mind
and shot him forward on his chair. He said explosively, "Then it's true!"
The curious gaze of the General Officers fixed on him again, but only
Father Ramón seemed to understand the comment without explanation. He
said, "You have heard about this disgrace to the Society?"
"I -- I only know what the Marquesa herself said to me: that certain
people have been taken in this quatrocentennial year to witness the
victory of Armada."
"Hah!" said Red Bear. "If it stopped there! If that were all!"
"Then it
is
true?" pressed Don Miguel. "But how could such a thing be
allowed to happen?"
The Prince coughed. "Father, as usual I'll defer to your judgment --
but is this wholly wise?"
"To give our brother the facts? I think so. In the matter currently before
us he's displayed considerable moral courage -- it's not every Licentiate
who would have defied a powerful noblewoman, alas!" Having delivered
himself of this verdict, the Jesuit turned back to Don Miguel and resumed.
"You ask how such a thing could be
allowed
to happen! Well, it is of
course not allowed; on the contrary it's completely forbidden. However
certain Licentiates have stumbled on a trick which has thus far enable
them to escape retribution -- though I promise you when they're discovered
their licenses will last an even shorter time than their freedom! You
must be acquainted with the normal operation of time apparatus, but are
you familiar with the effect of increasing the spatial components of
the drive-field?"
Don Miguel frowned. He said, "Superficially, Father; I mean, I know that
proper choice of factors permits objects to be drawn into a time-field from
a distance or set down at a distance from the apparatus's location . . .
Oh!"
"I think you understand what I'm referring to to," Father Ramón said,
pleased. "The trick I mentioned works after this fashion, then. The
corruptible Licentiates accept payment secretly from clients who wish to
witness the victory of the Armada, or the Coliseum games, or the Battle
of the Guinea Coast, or the disgusting acts in the temples of Egypt --
or whatever -- and then plan an innocent field-trip, which is approved
as routine by our brother Red Bear. The trip is always to a more distant
time than their real destination. They then collect their clients from
a time and place when the latter are unobserved, deliver them where they
want to be, continue to conduct their fieldword further back, and rejoin
their clients on the way back to the present -- where, naturally, they
replace them at the very second of their departure. Put so elaborately, it
seems complicated; in effect, it can be devilishly simple. Who can tell,
for instance, from which direction a traveller through time is arriving?"
"And the people are using the Society's own time apparatus for this --
this
knavery
?" Don Miguel's mind was reeling with the impact of the
Jesuit's revelation.
"They would hardly dare to construct illicit apparatus of their own,
easy though that might be. And why should they, anyhow? This had been
going on for well over a year before we realised."
"Had -- had many of us been tempted to take bribes?"
coldly, and hesitated, so that Don Miguel had a little while in which
to wonder in what sense he was using the word presumption, "is correct."
Don Miguel murmured a barely audible word of thanks and resolved to hold
his tongue until next spoken to.
"May we leave the technical aspects of this in the hands of your staff,
then, Father?" the Prince inquired.
"I think for the moment that will be the wisest course. Immediately I have
further information, I will relay it to the Council for a decision."
"Good!" The Prince seemed very pleased at abandoning that portion of the
discussion, and turned at once to another which appeared to interest him
more. "We come now to the associated problems which have been entailed
by this affair. To begin with -- Navarro!"
The last word was uttered in so sharp a bark that Don Miguel jumped.
"Navarro, what possessed you to arrest the Marquesa di Jorque when she was
so plainly an innocent party in this case?"
Don Miguel's heart sank so rapidly he could almost feel it arriving in
his boots. He said stiffly, "I acted, sir, in strict accordance with
the law and the rules of the Society."
"Heaven's name, man! Didn't anyone ever tell you that to stick rigidly
to the letter of the law is the mark of a man without imagination? I've
studied the information laid before me, and it's perfectly clear that her
ladyship acted throughout in unquestionable good faith. I'm discharging
her from custody here and now, and I require you to apologise to her
before she returns to her domains at Jorque."
What?
There was no hope of arguing with the Commander of the Society, especially
not in the presence of outsiders, but Don Miguel was horrified. Was not
the law, in both letter and spirit, mankind's chief bulwark against the
forces of chaos? Even from a Prince of the Blood he could not accept an
order to apologise for acting in accordance with the law!
He grew aware that everyone was waiting for him to comply. The invisible
faces of the General Officers were turned to stare at him, and the
Marquesa, suddenly repossessed of her usual poise, was glaring at him
triumphantly, tapping her manicured fingers on the arm of her chair.
To cover his uncertainty, he rose slowly to his feet. By the time he
was erect he had decided what to say.
"Sir, with all respect to you as a Prince and my Commander, I will not
apologise to the Marquesa for doing as the law lays down. I
will
apologise
for not realising that she is an innocent."
An innocent. A simpleton, in other words. He hoped the distinction would
penetrate.
It did. The Marquesa stiffened with fury and the countenance of the
Prince began to purple; Don Miguel braced himself for the impact of his
royal wrath. But the tension broke suddenly -- broke against a thin,
rather high-pitched laugh. With amazement Don Miguel realised it came
from Father Ramón.
"Commander, that is an apology exactly meet for the case," the Jesuit
exclaimed. "Surely anyone but an innocent would have wondered how so
magnificent an artefact came to be on sale instead of in a museum?"
The Prince thought that over for a moment. Eventually he gave a tentative
chuckle, and the chuckle developed into an outright guffaw in which the
other General Officers joined. To the accompaniment of their mirth the
Marquesa hastened from the hall, her shoulders bowed with humiliation.
Don Miguel, surprised by so easy a victory, slowly resumed his chair.
"Well!" the Prince said at length. "I suppose I can look forward now
to an almighty row with my cousin the Duchess of Jorque -- but never
mind, Father, you were perfectly correct about Navarro's apology, as
I realise now I think it over. It would be a good thing, though, if we
sorted the rest of the matter out before the storm breaks; at least I'd
have a chance to argue back!" He raised a stern finger to point to Don
Miguel. "Since you triggered the crisis, I trust you've taken steps of
your own to sort it out? For instance, have you discovered where the
mask came from in our own time?"
More than ever uncertain of himself, because it struck him as somehow
unfitting for a Prince of the Blood to refer so casually to the likelihood
of a family quarrel, Don Miguel said, "Ah -- well, sir, as you know,
Don Arcimboldo Ruiz bought the mask from the merchant Higgins, who is
present. And the latter maintains that he in his turn acquired it from
a stranger who called at his shop in the market outside Jorque."
"Yes, I've already been told about this." The Prince turned thoughtful
eyes on Higgins, who tried to sink through the seat of his chair; he was a
middle-aged man without great personality. "Concerning this stranger, then!
What proof did he offer that he was legally in possession of the mask?"
The merchant glanced from side to side as though seeking a way of
escape. Finding none, he babbled in the flat broad accent that Peabody
exhibited also, and most of the people in the north of England, "Your
highness, I swear! I swear what I said is true! I bought it from a
stranger, on the first day of April as I recall."
"Are you always so ready to do business with strangers?"
"Sir, never! Never in my life before!" Higgins's voice dropped to a
bare whisper. "I can only say I must have been mad -- must have had
a brainstom, your highness! For I cannot recall the man's face, and
I failed to enter his name in my account-book! Never in my life have
I done any such thing before -- ask anyone who knows me in Jorque,
they'll say I'm a respectable merchant and -- "
"Enough!" Curtly the Prince cut short the stammered flow of
words. "Navarro, have you investigated the fellow's story?"
"I have, sir. And it does seem to be true that up till now Higgins has
been a man of excellent reputation. I've spoken to several people who
have sold or pawned him goods, and they say he has always been careful
to ascertain they had proper title to what they were offering. He has
had a number of extratemporal objects through his hands -- small curios
not worth space in a museum -- and the office of the Society in Jorque
has always found him scrupulously careful about checking the importation
licence."
"Yet this time he buys contraband from a total stranger! He must indeed
have had a brainstorm!"
"And sold it to me, your highness!" Don Arcimboldo spoke up diffidently.
"To me who had no reason for questioning his right to its possession."
The Prince shrugged. "That's as may be, Don Arcimboldo -- one still wonders
why you didn't suspect it of being imported illegally. Still, I grant that
Higgins's alleged respectability would have disinclined you to investigate."
"Sir." A single dry word from one of the hitherto silent General Officers.
Don Miguel tensed, for even that one word betrayed the unmistakable accent
of a Mohawk. His guess at the speaker's identity was confirmed in the next
second by the Prince.
"Yes, Red Bear?"
The Director of Fieldwork for the Society! They'd really brought the big
guns to bear on this case!
"A motion, sir," Red Bear grunted. "That the merchant be further
interrogated. That Don Arcimboldo be discharged as an innocent party.
That we continue in private session to discuss what has passed."
There was a murmur of agreement from his colleagues. The Prince slapped
his palm on the table with a sound like a pistol-shot.
"So resolved! Clear the room," he added in a lower tone to his personal
aide.
Don Miguel made to rise, but the Prince motioned him back to his seat
with a frown, and he complied with a sense of apprehension. It was not
exactly normal practice for a lowly Licentiate of the Society with a
mere four years of service and five field trips to his credit to be
invited to sit in during a confidential meeting of the General Officers.
Someone -- and from his just-uttered remarks it might well be Red Bear --
was obviously taking this matter very seriously indeed.
V
As soon as all non-members of the Society had left the Chamber and the
doors had been locked with a great slamming of heavy bolts, the lights
went up and the officers relaxed in their chairs, shaking back the cowls
from their heads. Don Miguel was almost surprised to discover that in full
illumination the Chamber was just a room -- large, palatial, but simply
a room. And, equally, the General Officers were ordinary men. There was
exceptional character and experience stamped on their faces; nonetheless,
they were men.
He found himself able to relax a little also.
The Prince fumbled a large pipe from a pouch at his belt and stuffed it
with tobacco in coarse-cut hunks. Lighting it, he mumbled around the stem.
"Well, young Navarro, I don't mind telling you that you put the cat in
the pigeoncote with this rash act of yours!"
A harsh grunt, as though to say "understatement!", came from Red Bear,
whose long Indian face was framed in elegantly dressed black braids as
slick as oil.
Father Ramón, seated between Red Bear and the Prince, passed a thin hand
over his bald cranium in a way that suggested he had acquired in youth
the habit of running his fingers through his hair and still expected
subconsciously to find some on his scalp. His face reminded Don Miguel
of a bird, with the skin stretched tight around a beaky nose and little,
very bright eyes.
He said quietly, "Sir, it may have been an unavoidable cat."
The Prince shrugged, his pipe pouting out smoke like a bonfire. "I'd be
inclined to dispute that . . . if I didn't know better than to dispute
with one of your Order, Father! What I mean, though, is what I say:
I hold that Navarro has caused us a deal of unnecessary botheration."
The Jesuit looked worried. "Again, I can't agree. In my view he has
so far acted sensibly, apart from taking the Marquesa di Jorque into
custody." He turned to face Don Miguel directly.
"How old are you, my son?"
"Ah . . . I'm nearly thirty, Father."
"In that case you should by now be better able to judge people. I think
five minutes' conversation with the Marquesa should have sufficed to
inform you that she would never in a million years have thought to
inquire of the Society's office about the mask she'd been given. Like
a child with a new toy, she'd have been too afraid of losing it."
It hardly seemed to Don Miguel that the greed of a fading beauty should
be allowed to excuse an infringement of the Society's rules; however,
he was glad that the Jesuies reproof had been so mild, and held his peace.
"On the other hand," Father Ramón continued, "I confess I'm greatly
puzzled by the story which the merchant tells. I seem to recall seeing
in his deposition that our brother Navarro admired feeling annoyed with
the Marquesa because she was showing him off like a performing animal to
her other guests. That remark struck home, because -- as I hardly need
to remind you -- the work of the Society itself runs the risk of being
turned into a mere spectacle for sensation-seekers."
Like a spark and gunpowder, two facts came together in Don Miguel's mind
and shot him forward on his chair. He said explosively, "Then it's true!"
The curious gaze of the General Officers fixed on him again, but only
Father Ramón seemed to understand the comment without explanation. He
said, "You have heard about this disgrace to the Society?"
"I -- I only know what the Marquesa herself said to me: that certain
people have been taken in this quatrocentennial year to witness the
victory of Armada."
"Hah!" said Red Bear. "If it stopped there! If that were all!"
"Then it
is
true?" pressed Don Miguel. "But how could such a thing be
allowed to happen?"
The Prince coughed. "Father, as usual I'll defer to your judgment --
but is this wholly wise?"
"To give our brother the facts? I think so. In the matter currently before
us he's displayed considerable moral courage -- it's not every Licentiate
who would have defied a powerful noblewoman, alas!" Having delivered
himself of this verdict, the Jesuit turned back to Don Miguel and resumed.
"You ask how such a thing could be
allowed
to happen! Well, it is of
course not allowed; on the contrary it's completely forbidden. However
certain Licentiates have stumbled on a trick which has thus far enable
them to escape retribution -- though I promise you when they're discovered
their licenses will last an even shorter time than their freedom! You
must be acquainted with the normal operation of time apparatus, but are
you familiar with the effect of increasing the spatial components of
the drive-field?"
Don Miguel frowned. He said, "Superficially, Father; I mean, I know that
proper choice of factors permits objects to be drawn into a time-field from
a distance or set down at a distance from the apparatus's location . . .
Oh!"
"I think you understand what I'm referring to to," Father Ramón said,
pleased. "The trick I mentioned works after this fashion, then. The
corruptible Licentiates accept payment secretly from clients who wish to
witness the victory of the Armada, or the Coliseum games, or the Battle
of the Guinea Coast, or the disgusting acts in the temples of Egypt --
or whatever -- and then plan an innocent field-trip, which is approved
as routine by our brother Red Bear. The trip is always to a more distant
time than their real destination. They then collect their clients from
a time and place when the latter are unobserved, deliver them where they
want to be, continue to conduct their fieldword further back, and rejoin
their clients on the way back to the present -- where, naturally, they
replace them at the very second of their departure. Put so elaborately, it
seems complicated; in effect, it can be devilishly simple. Who can tell,
for instance, from which direction a traveller through time is arriving?"
"And the people are using the Society's own time apparatus for this --
this
knavery
?" Don Miguel's mind was reeling with the impact of the
Jesuit's revelation.
"They would hardly dare to construct illicit apparatus of their own,
easy though that might be. And why should they, anyhow? This had been
going on for well over a year before we realised."
"Had -- had many of us been tempted to take bribes?"
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