Lem, Stanislaw (13 page)

"Though by that time both he and

the money would be gone," observed Klapaucius.

"Shouldn't we report him to the

Main Office?"

"Not just yet. He may not be

doing this, after all. We have no real proof. Statistical

fluctuations can occur without an amplifier; at one time, you know,

there were neither amplifiers nor phantasmatrons, yet dragons

did appear. Purely on a random basis."

"True…" replied

Trurl. "But
these
appear immediately after he arrives

on the planet!"

"I know. Still, reporting a

fellow constructor—it just isn't done. Though there's no reason

we can't take measures of our own."

"No reason at all."

"I'm glad you agree. But what

exactly should we do?"

At this point the two famous

dracologists got into a discussion so technical, that anyone

listening in wouldn't have been able to make head or tail of it.

There were such mysterious words as "discontinuous

orthodragonality." "grand draconical ensembles."

"high-frequency binomial fafneration." "abnormal

saurian distribution." "discrete dragons." "indiscrete

dragons." "drasticodracostochastic control." "simple

Grendelian dominance." "weak interaction dragon

diffraction." "aberrational reluctance."

"informational figmentation," and so on.

The upshot of all this penetrating

analysis was the third sally, for which the constructors prepared

most carefully, not failing to load their ship with a quantity of

highly complicated devices.

In particular they took along a

scatter-scrambler and a special gun that fired negative heads. After

landing on Eenica, then on Meenica, then finally on Mynamoaca, they

realized it would be impossible to comb the whole infested area in

this way and they would have to split up. This was most easily done,

obviously, by separating; so after a brief council of war each set

out on his own. Klapaucius worked for a spell on Prestopondora for

the Emperor Maximillion, who was prepared to offer him his daughter's

hand in marriage if only he would get rid of those vile beasts.

Dragons of the highest probability were everywhere, even in the

streets of the capital, and the place literally swarmed with

virtuals. A virtual dragon, the uneducated and simple-minded might

say, "isn't really there," having no observable substance

nor displaying the least intention of acquiring any; but the

Cybr-Trurl-Klapaucius-Leech calculation (not to mention the

Drachendranginger wave equation) clearly shows that a dragon can jump

from configurational to real space with no more effort than it takes

to jump off a cliff. Thus, in any room, cellar or attic, provided the

probability is high, you could meet with a dragon or possibly even a

metadragon.

Instead of chasing after the beasts,

which would have accomplished little or nothing, Klapaucius, a true

theoretician, approached the problem methodically; in squares and

promenades, in barns and hostels he placed probabilistic

battery-run dragon dampers, and in no time at all the beasts were

extremely rare. Collecting his fee, plus an honorary degree and an

engraved loving cup, Klapaucius blasted off to rejoin his friend. On

the way, he noticed a planet and someone waving to him frantically.

Thinking it might be Trurl in some sort of trouble, he landed. But it

was only the inhabitants of Trufffandria, the subjects of King

Pfftius, gesticulating. The Trufflandrians held to various

superstitions and primitive beliefs; their religion, Pneumatological

Dracolatry, taught that dragons appeared as a divine retribution for

their sins and took possession of all unclean souls. Quickly

realizing it would be useless to enter into a discussion with

the royal dracologians—their methods consisted primarily of

waving censers and distributing sacred relics—Klapaucius

instead conducted soundings of the outlying terrain. These

revealed the planet was occupied by only one beast, but that beast

belonged to the terrible genus of Echidnosaurian hypervipers. He

offered the King his services. The King, however, answered in a

vague, roundabout fashion, evidently under the influence of that

ridiculous doctrine which would have the origin of dragons be somehow

supernatural. Perusing the local newspapers, Klapaucius learned

that the dragon terrorizing the planet was considered by some to be a

single thing, and by others, a multiplex creature that could operate

in several locations at the same time. This gave him pause—though

it wasn't so surprising really, when you considered that the

localization of these odious phenomena was subject to so-called

dragonomalies, in which certain specimens, particularly when

abstracted, underwent a "smearing" effect, which was in

reality nothing more than a simple isotopic spin acceleration of

asynchronous quantum moments. Much as a hand, emerging from the water

fingers-first, appears above the surface in the form of five

seemingly separate and independent items, so do dragons,

emerging from the lairs of their configurational space, on occasion

appear to be plural, though in point of fact they are quite singular.

Towards the end of his second audience with the King, Klapaucius

inquired if perhaps Trurl were on the planet and gave a detailed

description of his comrade. He was astonished to hear that yes,

his comrade had only recently visited their kingdom and had even

undertaken to exorcise the monster, had in fact accepted a retainer

and departed for the neighboring mountains where the monster had been

most frequently sighted. Had then returned the next day, demanding

the rest of his fee and presenting four and twenty dragon's teeth as

proof of his success. There was some misunderstanding, however,

and it was decided to withhold payment until the matter was

fully cleared up. At which Trurl flew into a rage and in a loud voice

made certain comments about His Royal Highness that were perilously

close to lese majesty if not treason, then stormed out without

leaving a forwarding address. That very same day the monster

reappeared as if nothing had happened and, alas, ravaged their

farms and villages more fiercely than before.

Now this story seemed questionable to

Klapaucius, though on the other hand it was hard to believe the good

King was lying, so he packed his knapsack with all sorts of powerful

dragon-exterminating equipment and set off for the mountains, whose

snowcapped peaks rose majestically in the east.

It wasn't long before he saw dragon

prints and got an unmistakable whiff of brimstone. On he went,

undaunted, holding his weapon in readiness and keeping a constant eye

on the needle of his dragon counter. It stayed at zero for a spell,

then began to give nervous little twitches, until, as if struggling

with itself, it slowly crawled towards the number one. There was no

doubt now: the Echidnosaur was close at hand. Which amazed

Klapaucius, for he couldn't understand how his trusty friend and

renowned theoretician, Trurl, could have gotten so fouled up in his

calculations as to fail to wipe the dragon out for good. Nor could he

imagine Trurl returning to the royal palace and demanding

payment for what he had not accomplished.

Klapaucius then came upon a group of

natives. They were plainly terrified, the way they kept looking

around and trying to stay together. Bent beneath heavy burdens

balanced on their backs and heads, they were stepping

single-file up the mountainside. Klapaucius accosted the procession

and asked the first native what they were about.

"Sire!" replied the native,

a lower court official in a tattered tog and cummerbund. "

'Tis the tribute we carry to the dragon."

"Tribute? Ah yes, the tribute!

And what is the tribute?"

"Nothin' more 'r less, Sire, than

what the dragon would have us bring it: gold coins, precious stones,

imported perfumes, an' a passel o' other valuables."

This was truly incredible, for dragons

never required such tributes, certainly not perfume—no perfume

could ever mask their own natural fetor—and certainly not

currency, which was useless to them.

"And does it ask for young

virgins, my good man?" asked Klapaucius.

"Virgins? Nay, Sire, tho' there

war a time … we had to cart 'em in by the bevy, we did…

Only that war before the stranger came, the furrin gentleman, Sire,

a-walkin' around the rocks with 'is boxes an' contraptions, all by

'is-self…" Here the worthy native broke off and stared at

the instruments and weapons Klapaucius was carrying, particularly

the large dragon counter that was ticking softly all the while, its

red pointer jumping back and forth across the white dial.

"Why, if he dinna have one…

jus' like yer Lordship's," he said in a hushed voice. "Aye,

jus' like… the same wee stiggermajigger and a' the rest…"

"There was a sale on them,"

said Klapaucius, to allay the native's suspicions. "But tell me,

good people, do you happen to know what became of this

stranger?"

"What became o' him, ye ask? That

we know not, Sire, to be sure. 'Twas, if I not mistake me, but a

fortnight past —'twas, 'twas not, Master Gyles, a fortnight

withal an' nae more?"

" 'Twas, 'twas, 'tis the truth ye

speak, the truth aye, a fortnight sure, or maybe two."

"Aye! So he comes to us, yer

Grace, partakes of our 'umble fare, polite as ye please an' I'll not

gainsay it, nay, a parfit gentleman true, pays hondsomely, inquires

after the missus don't y'know, aye an' then he sits 'isself down,

spreads out a' them contraptions an' thin's with clocks in 'em,

y'see, an' scribbles furious-like, numbers they are, one

after't'other, in this wee book he keep in 'is breast pocket, then

takes out a—whad'yacallit—therbobbiter thingamabob…"

"Thermometer?"

"Aye, that's it! A thermometer…

an' he says it be for dragons, an' pokes it here an' there, Sire, an'

scribbles in 'is book again, then he takes a' them contraptions an'

things an' packs 'em up an' puts 'em on 'is back an' says farewell

an' goes 'is merry way. We never saw 'im more, yer Honor. That very

night we hear a thunder an' a clatter, oh, a good ways off, 'bout as

far as Mount Murdigras—'tis the one, Sire, hard by yon peak,

aye, that one thar, looks like a hawk, she do, we call 'er Pfftius

Peak after our beluved King, an' that one thar on't'uther side, bent

over like't'would spread 'er arse, that be the Dollymog, which,

accordin' to legend—"

"Enough of the mountains, worthy

native," said Klaupaucius. "You were saying there was

thunder in the night. What happened then?"

"Then, Sire? Why nothin', to be

sure. The hut she give a jump an' I falls outta bed, to which I'm

well accustomed, mind ye, seein' as how the wicked beast allus come

a-bumpin' gainst the house with 'er tail an' send a feller

flyin'—like when Master Gyles' ayn brother londed in the privy

'cause the creatur' gets a hankerin' to scratch 'isself on the corner

o' the roof…"

"To the point, man, get to the

point!" cried Klapaucius. "There was thunder, you fell

down, and then what?"

"Then nothin', like I says before

an' thought I made it clear. Nothin', an' if'n there war somethin',

there'd be somethin', only there war nothin' sure an' that be the

long an' the short of it! D'ye agree, Master Gyles?"

"Aye, sure 'tis the truth ye

speak, 'tis."

Klapaucius bowed and stepped back, and

the whole procession continued up the mountain, the natives straining

beneath the dragon's tribute. He supposed they would place it in some

cave designated by the beast, but didn't care to ask for details; his

head was already spinning from listening to the local official and

his Master Gyles. And anyway, he had heard one of the natives say to

another that the dragon had chosen "a spot as near us an' as

near 'isself as could be found."

Klapaucius hurried on, picking his way