Wyst: Alastor 1716 (5 page)

Jantiff stepped forward, feeling a trifle sheepish. “I’m Jantiff
Ravensroke, and I’ve been assigned to this apartment.”

The man and the woman showed gracious smiles and jumped
smartly to their feet. (Later, when Jantiff recalled his sojourn at Uncibal, he
never failed to reflect upon the careful etiquette by which the Arrabins eased
the circumstances of their lives.)

The man was tall and elegant, with a fine straight nose and
flashing eyes. He wore his black hair in glossy ear-puffs, with artful cusps
down the forehead; of the two he seemed the more forthright. He gave Jantiff a
friendly salute which conveyed nothing of the desk clerk’s disapproval. “Welcome
to Arrabus, Jantiff! Welcome to Old Pink and to this excellent apartment!”

“Thank you very much,” said Jantiff. This affable and intelligent
man was evidently to be his roommate and Jantiff’s misgivings dissolved.

“Allow me to perform the introductions. This lady is the
miraculous Skorlet, a person of charm and capability, and I am Esteban.”

Skorlet spoke in a quick husky voice: “You seem clean and
quiet, and I’m sure that we’ll have no difficulties. Please don’t whistle in
the apartment, or inquire the purpose of my work more than once, or belch
loudly. I can’t abide a belching man.”

With an effort Jantiff maintained his sangfroid. Here was a
situation which he, had not anticipated. With desperate facility he said: “I’ll
keep your remarks very much in mind.” He surveyed Skorlet from the corner of
his eye. An introverted woman, he thought, perhaps a bit tense. She stood
almost as tall as he was with rather heavy arms and legs. Her face was pale and
round; her features were unremarkable except for the eyes glowing under strong
black eyebrows. She wore her ear-puffs small, with black curls piled in a heap
above: a woman neither comely nor yet repulsive. She might not be so easy a roommate
as Esteban, however. He said: “I hope you won’t find me too difficult.”

“I’m sure not. You seem a nice lad. Esteban, borrow three
mugs from the wumper;. I’ll pour out a taste of swill
[11]
to mark the occasion. You brought in a pack or two of bonter, or so I hope?”

“Sorry,” said Jantiff. “The idea never occurred to me.”

Esteban went off on his errand; Skorlet rummaged under the
case and brought out a jug. “Please don’t think me nonmutual.
[12]
I just can’t believe that an occasional jug, of swill will destroy Arrabus. You’re
sure there’s not even a trace of bonter in your luggage?”

“I don’t carry any luggage; only this handbag.”

“Pity. There’s nothing like pickles and pepper sausage to
advance the swill. While we’re waiting, I’ll show you your bed.”

Jantiff followed her into a small square chamber, furnished
with two wardrobes, two cases, a table, now cluttered with Skorlet’s small
belongings, and two cots separated by a flimsy curtain. Skorlet brushed the trinkets
to one side of the, table. “Your half,” she said, “and your bed.” She jerked
her thumb. “During my drudge the apartment is: at your disposal, should you
wish to entertain a friend, and vice versa. Things work out well unless we draw
the same stint, but that’s not too often.”

“Aha, yes, I see,” said Jantiff.

Esteban returned with three blue glass mugs; Skorlet solemnly
poured them full. “To the. Centenary!” she called in a brassy voice. “May the
Connatic do his duty!”

Jantiff drank down the murky liquid and controlled a grimace at the aftertaste, which he associated with mice and old mattresses.

“Very bold,” said Esteban approvingly. “Very bold indeed.
You have an active thumb for the swill!”

“Yes, very good,” said Jantiff. “And when does the Centenary
occur?”

“Shortly—a matter of a few months. There’s to be a simply
explosive festival, with free games and dancing along the ways, and probably no
end of swill. I’ll surely put down a good supply. Esteban, can’t you scrounge
me a dozen jugs?”

“My dear, I’ve drawn the vitamin stint only once, and the Mutual
stood right on top of me, watching my every move. I was lucky to capture the
two of them.”

“Then we must do without swill.”

“Can’t you use a plastic bag?” Jantiff suggested. “After
all, the container need not be rigid.”

Esteban ruefully shook his head. “It’s been tried many
times; our plastic bags all leak.”

Skorlet said: “Old Sarp has a jug which he’s too parsimonious
to use
.
I’ll have Kedidah put the merge on it. That’s three jugs at
least. Now where’s the gruff?”

“I’ll contribute from lunch,” said Esteban.

“If it’s needed,” said Jantiff, “I will too.”

Skorlet looked at him approvingly. “That the spirit! Who
said the immigrants are lampreys sucking our juices? Not the case with Jantiff!”

Esteban said meditatively: “I know a chap in Purple Vendetta
who taps sturge from the pipe and he makes a very fierce swill indeed. I might
just promote a bucket or two of raw sturge; it’s worth the experiment.”

Jantiff asked: “What is ‘sturge’?”

“Simple food pulp. It’s piped out from the central plant. In
the kitchen it magically becomes gruff, deedle and wobbly. No reason why it
shouldn’t make good swill.”

Skorlet carefully poured each of the three mugs half full. “Well—once
again to the Festival, and may the Connatic put all would-be immigrants to work
making pickles and pepper sausage, for consignment to Uncibal I”

“And let the Propuncers gnaw last week’s gruff!”

“Save some for the Connatic. He can be as egal as the rest
of us.”

“Oh, he’ll dine on banter at the Travelers Inn; no fear of
that.”

Jantiff asked: “Is the Connatic actually coming to the Festival?”

Skorlet shrugged. “The Whispers are going out to Lusz to
invite him, but who knows what he’ll say?”

“He won’t come,” said Esteban. “Total fool he’d feel at the
ceremony, with everybody screaming ‘Hurrah for egalism!’ and ‘Egalism for the
Cluster!’”

“And ‘Low drudge for the Connatic, just like
the
rest of

“Exactly. What could he say?”

“Oh, something like, ‘My dear subjects, I’m disappointed
that you haven’t laid red velvet along Uncibal River for my delicate feet. Now
it’s not well known, and I’d never reveal it anywhere but here on Arrabus, but
I’m actually a chwig.
[13]
I command that you fill me a tank with your best banter.”

Half amused, half scandalized, Jantiff protested: “Really. you
do him injustice! He lives a most sedate life!”

Skorlet sneered. “That’s all smarm from his Bureau of Acclamation.
Who knows what the Connatic’s really like?”

Esteban drained his blue glass mug and looked in calculation
toward the jug.

“We all know that the Connatic often disappears from Lusz.
Now I’ve heard—this is admittedly rumor, but where there’s smoke there’s
fire—that during these exact intervals, and only during these intervals, Bosko
Boskowitz
[14]
makes his depredations. This correspondence has been thoroughly researched, so
I’ve heard, and there’s no doubt about it.”

“Interesting!” said Skorlet. “Doesn’t Bosko Boskowitz
maintain a secret palace among the starments staffed only with beautiful
children, who must obey his every whim?”

‘That’s the case! And isn’t it odd that the Whelm never interferes
with Bosko Boskowitz?”

“More than odd! That’s why I say: ‘Egalism across the Cluster!’”

Jantiff said in disgust: “I don’t believe a word of it.”

Skorlet laughed her gloomy laugh. “You’re young and naive.”

“As to that I can’t say.”

“No matter.” Skorlet peered into the jug. “I suppose we
might as well put a term to it.”

“Excellent idea!” declared Esteban. “The strength is always
at the bottom of the jug.”

Skorlet raised her head. “No time now; there goes the gong.
Let’s go for wump. Then, afterwards, why not conduct our new friend around the
city?”

“Certainly) I’m always ready for a promenade! It’s a fine
day after the rain. And what of Tanzel? We could pick her up along the way.”

“Yes, of course. Poor little dear; I haven’t seen her for
days. Fl call her right now.” She went to the screen, but pushed buttons in
vain. “It still won’t go! Idiotic thing! There’s been maintenance on it twice!”

Jantiff went to the screen, touched the buttons, listened.
He slipped up the retainer ring and lowered the screen upon its hinge.

Skorlet and Esteban came to look over his shoulder. “Do you
understand these things?”

“Not really. As children, we’re trained to elementary circuits,
but I haven’t gone much further. Still, this is very simple equipment; all
plug-ins, and the telltale shows when they’re bad… Hm. These are all in
order. Look here; this filter bank isn’t slotted accurately. Try now.”

The screen glowed. Skorlet said bitterly: “The maintenance
fellow studied his instruction book for two hours and still couldn’t do the
job.”

“Oh well,” said Esteban, “he was just someone like me on
high drudge.”

Skorlet merely gave a sour grunt She touched buttons, and
spoke to the woman whose face appeared. “Tanzel, please.”

A girl nine or ten years old looked forth from the screen. “Hello,
Mother. Hello, Father.”

“We’re dropping by in about an hour, and we’ll go for a nice
promenade. Will you be ready?”

“Oh, yes! I’ll wait in front.”

“Good! In just about an hour.”

The three turned to go. Jantiff stopped short. “P11 just put
my bag in the wardrobe; no harm starting out tidy at least.”

Esteban clapped Jantiff on the shoulder. “I think you’ve got
a jewel here, Skorlet.”

“Oh, I suppose he’ll do.”

As they walked along the corridor Jantiff asked, “What
happened to your last roommate?”

“I don’t know,” said Skorlet. “She went out one day and
never came back.”

“How strange!”

“I suppose so. No one ever knows what’s in another person’s
mind. Here’s the wumper.”

The three entered a long wide room, lined with tables and
benches, and already filled with chattering residents of Level 19. An attendant
punched their apartment numbers into a register; the three took covered trays
from a dispenser and went to a table. The tray contained exactly the same
rations Jantiff had been served the previous evening at the Travelers Inn.

Skorlet put a cake of gruff to the side. “For our next swill.”

Esteban with an expression of whimsical grief did likewise. “For
swill, any sacrifice is worthy.”

“Here’s mine,” said Jantiff. “I insist on contributing.”

Skorlet gathered the three cakes together. “I’ll take them
back to the apartment, and we’ll all just pretend that we’ve eaten them.”

Esteban jumped to his feet. “A good idea, but let me! I’ll
be glad to run the errand.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Skorlet. “It’s only a step or two.”
Esteban said, laughing, “We’ll both go, if you’re so stubborn.”

Jantiff looked from one to the other, bemused, “Is it really
such a point of courtesy? I’ll come too, in that case.”

“ Esteban sighed and shook his head. “Of course not. Skorlet
is merely a wayward person… None of us will go.”

Skorlet shrugged. “As you wish.”

Jantiff said, “We can easily restrain our appetites. At
least I can. And we’ll drop off the gruff on our way out.”

“Of course,” said Esteban. “That’s the fair way.”

Jantiff wondered at the exquisite nicety of Esteban’s politesse.

“Eat the wump and shut up,” said Skorlet.

The meal was taken in silence. Jantiff inspected his fellow
residents with interest. There was no reserve and anonymity; everyone seemed to
know everyone else; cheerful greetings, banter, allusion to social events and
mutual friends rang around the room. A slender girl with fine honey-colored
hair paused beside Skorlet and whispered something in her ear, with an
arch side glance toward Jantiff. Skorlet gave a dreary laugh. “Go on with you!
It’s all nonsense, as well you know!”

The girl went on to a nearby table, where she joined
friends. Jantiff thought her slender round body, her charming features and her saucy
spontaneity all attractive, but made no comment.

Skorlet noticed the direction of his gaze. “That’s Kedidah.
The old sandpiper yonder is Sarp, her roommate. He tries to copulate a dozen
times a day, which makes for an inconvenient roommate; after all, one’s social
life is usually elsewhere. She just offered to trade you for Sarp, but I
wouldn’t hear of it. Esteban is always handy when I’m in the mood, which
perhaps isn’t as often as it should be.”

Jantiff, spooning up his wobbly, forbore comment.

Upon leaving the refectory, the three stopped by the apartment
where Skorlet dropped off the three cakes of gruff. Skorlet turned to Jantiff. “Are
you ready?”

“I’m just debating whether to bring my camera. My family
wants photographs by the dozen.”

“Better not this time,” said Esteban. “Wait till you know
the ropes. Then you can get some really dramatic photographs. And also you’ll
have learned to cope with the, alas, all too prevalent snergery.”

“‘Snergery’? What is that?”

“Theft, to put it bluntly. Arrabus abounds with merges.
Haven’t you heard?”

Jantiff shook his head. “I can’t understand why anyone
should steal under egalism.”

Esteban laughed. “Snerging ensures egalism. It’s a very direct
remedy against anyone accumulating goods. In Arrabus we share and share alike.”

“I can’t understand the logic in all this,” said Jantiff,
but neither—Esteban nor Skorlet showed any interest in pursuing the topic.

The three proceeded to the man-way and rode half a mile to
the district crèche, where Tanzel waited: a pretty wisp of a girl with Skorlet’s
round face, Esteban’s fine features and a thoughtful intelligence all her own.
She greeted Skorlet and Esteban with restrained affection, and Jantiff with
quite obvious curiosity. After a few moments of covert inspection, she told
him: “Really, you look much like the rest of us!”