CHAPTER NINE

Again the hills of Fossanderan came into view, this time covered with black stumps like an unshaven chin seen under the microscope. Only away to the left, towards the eastern end of the island, did the greens and browns and mauves and purples of growing Krishnan vegetation persist.

Barnevelt, leaning against the forward rail of the Junsar, said, "George, pass the word we're putting in to the cove on the north shore of Fossanderan to top off our water. I don't want to be caught short again."

"If they make a stink about the demons?"

"Oh, fool! Remind 'em I'm the guy who cleaned up on the demons single-handed. Of course the water parties will need guards."

The fleet drew up along the north shore of the island and gathered water while hundreds of rowers went ashore to catch a few hours' sleep on solid ground after putting up with crampsome dozens on their benches since leaving Damovang. Of the tailed men there was no sign, and the story of Barnevelt's exploit seemed to have killed much of the popular dread of the place.

When the leaders gathered aboard the Junsar for a conference, the Dasht of Darya asked, "Suppose these villains ask terms?"

"Heave their emissaries into the sea!" said Queen Alvandi.

"Not in accord with the practice of civilized nations…" began the Majburo admiral.

"Who cares? Who calls these sanguinary filchers civilized?"

"A moment, madam," said Prince Ferrian. "A proper moral tone is no small advantage to an enterprise like ours, sobeit it costs but little. Offer 'em, say I, terms they'll refuse. Like-say—their bare lives alone."

And so it was decided.

When the water had been replenished and the sleeping oarsmen roused, the fleet put forth again. Behind the leading Junsar plowed the grotesque shape of Ferrian's oared aircraft carrier, the Kumanisht. The catapult in the latter's bow whanged, hurling a rocket-glider into the air on a practice flight, to circle over the fleet and drift in over the tail of the flight deck, where the handling crew caught it.

As they rounded the eastern end of Fossanderan into the larger channel of Palindos Strait, Barnevelt touched Tanga-loa's arm and pointed. A small group of tailed men were spear-fishing in the shallows. The instant they saw the Junsar they scampered back to shore, to disappear among the trees.

Tangaloa said, "I say, couldn't we stop long enough for me* to interview them? I'll take a guard…"

"No! If we win the war, maybe we can stop on the way back… Yes?"

An officer had come up to report that Captain So-and-so had sprung a seam and asked permission to turn back.

"Zeus!" said Barnevelt. "That's the fourth or fifth that's aborted. We started out with plenty of margin, but Rostamb ratted on us, and at this rate we'll be tackling a larger force than our own."

"We inspected them at Damovang," said Tangaloa.

"Sure. I suspect some of 'em have been sabotaged by people who want to stay out of the fight. I'll go look at this sprung seam."

Barnevelt made his inspection, told the captain to caulk his leak with sailcloth, and returned to the Jumar. As they emerged from the Strait into the Banjao Sea, he detached a couple of empty cargo ships to sail straight for Malayer, fill up with food and water, and then rejoin the main fleet at the Sunqar. Then he resumed his former position, elbows on the forward rafl, staring somberly over the sea.

"What makes you so gloomy?" said Tangaloa. "You weren't this way when you set out before, though you were running a worse risk."

"Oh, am I? It's not the fighting."

"What then?"

"Hollow, hollow, all delight."

"I know, you're in love!"

"Uh-huh," Barnevelt admitted.

"Well, what's that to be sad about? I have always found it fun."

"I've said good-bye forever to her."

"Why?"

"She had the idea I'd make a good consort. And…" Barnevelt struck his neck with the edge of his hand.

"I had forgot that angle. It could have been arranged."

"It was arranged! That was what I objected to."

"No, no. I mean if you played your cards right you could overthrow the matriarchy and end the custom. It is not a really stable set-up, the one they have in Qirib."

"You mean because the males are bigger than the females, as among us?"

"Not exactly, though that helps. Ahem. I meant this female-dominated society didn't grow naturally, but was suddenly imposed upon a different culture pattern as a result of a couple of historical accidents* The people's basic cultural attitudes are still those of the surrounding Krishnan states, where the pattern is approximate sexual equality."

"I see. It is the little rift within the lute, that by and by will make the music mute."

"Precisely. Now in Nyamadze, on the other hand, I understand that…"

"Haven't the people's—uh—basic cultural patterns changed since Queen Dejanai set up the matriarchate?"

"No. That will take centuries yet. You see, most people get their basic cultural attitudes before they reach school age and never change them thereafter. That is why on Earth there are still traces of racial hostility and discrimination in spots, after all the good-will propaganda and legal measures of the last few centuries. And apparently culture patterns are transmitted on Krishna in the same way. So if you want to break up this pattern of basilophagous gynecocracy before it hardens…"

"Of what?" said Barnevelt.

"Sorry, bod, I forgot this isn't a meeting of the Anthropological Association. This pattern of king-eating petticoat rule, I should have said, can be overthrown by a resolute man, and you will have all the advantages—an inside position, a hero's prestige…"

Barnevelt shook his head. "I'm a quiet sort of guy and don't care for the fierce light which beats upon the throne and blackens every blot."

"Oh, nonsense, Dirk. You love leadership. I have been watching you."

"Well, I don't intend to put my head in that particular noose so long as the queen uses that Unbridled Lust perfume to keep the men subdued. Anyway there are my obligations to the firm."

"True—I'd forgot Igor Shtain, Limited. Couldn't you persuade the sheila to chuck her job? Then you wouldn't have to be consort."

"Matter of fact she's already offered to. She'd have gone back to Earth with me."

"For God's sake, why didn't you take her up on it?" said Tangaloa. "She's a bonzer little squid. I shouldn't mind a bit of a smoodge with her myself."

"She's a Krishnan, dammit!"

"So what? Relations are possible despite—or is there some rule in Deuteronomy against it?"

"It's not that. We're not interfertile."

"So much the better. One need not worry about…"

"But that's not what I want!"

"You mean you want a lot of little Dirks running around? As if one were not enough?"

"Ayuh," said Barnevelt.

"A sentimental yearning for vicarious immortality, eh?"

"Not at all. I prefer a stable family life, and poor old sex alone won't give you that."

"Ha ha," said Tangaloa. "What was that thing you were quoting to Castanhoso about loathing the bright dishonor of her love? You're still full of irrational inhibitions, my boy. We Polynesians have found…"

"I know. Your system of progressive polygamy may be all right for you, but I'm not built that way. So no egg-laying princesses need apply."

"A bigoted, race-conscious attitude."

"I don't care, it's my attitude. Good thing this expedition came along to separate us, or I should never have had the will power to leave her."

"Oh, well, it's your life." Tangaloa wiped his forehead.

"This is hotter than the Northern Territory of Australia in January."

"South wind," said Barnevelt. "It'll make it tough for us all the way to the Sunqar."

"We ought to do like those blokes from Darya. As soon as we were out of Damovang Harbor they reverted to their native costume, a coat of grease, and now they just leave the grease off."

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