The Magnificent Showboats (18 page)

Again Gassoon shook his head. “Frankly, I am discouraged. My hopes of producing classic drama have been eroded; at each performance you introduce some new innovation, and I am no longer surprised by anything, merely saddened. What is the point of proceeding?” Gassoon paced back and forth across the office, with hands clasped behind his back. “I fear that I have lost my illusions. In fact, you may now leave this vessel.”

“Indeed. And what of Damsel Blanche-Aster?”

“Her circumstances need not concern you in the slightest. She must be as bored as I am with hare-brained exploits and impossible voyages. We will remain here at Lanteen for a week or two, then return by easy steps to Coble. Now, be so good as to leave this ship, or I will have Turliman put you ashore.”

“Just a moment.” Leaving the office, Zamp stepped across the passageway to Damsel Blanche-Aster’s cabin and knocked at the door. She looked forth.

“Come at once to Master Gassoon’s office,” said Zamp. “He has an interesting announcement to make.”

Damsel Blanche-Aster, once more cool and intense, accompanied Zamp to Gassoon’s office. Zamp made an airy salute in Gassoon’s direction. “Let us discuss your plans again, now that all those concerned are present.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” stated Gassoon, in a voice like the middle tones of an oboe. “I have determined that the voyage to Mornune is not only impractical and imprudent but dangerous. You, Zamp, are demonstrably an undesirable associate; you will leave the ship immediately. Damsel Blanche-Aster, we have many times celebrated our spiritual compatibility; the time perhaps has come to formalize our bond, to make us truly one.”

Damsel Blanche-Aster reflected a moment, then spoke in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice. “Your judgments may well be correct, Throdorus. The journey north is toilsome, especially for a vessel such as this.”

Gassoon nodded grimly and darted a yellow glance toward Zamp.

Damsel Blanche-Aster spoke on in a musing voice: “As you know, I have an affair at Mornune which must be settled before I can even contemplate your other suggestions. Still, I believe that our various goals can be reconciled. You may return to me the two pounds of iron I advanced at Coble; Master Zamp will use this money to buy a felucca. He and I will sail north to Mornune as swiftly as may be. There I will accomplish my errand and Master Zamp may compete in the festival with my assistance — perhaps we will perform scenes from
Macbeth
or a program of comic pantomimes. Then, upon conclusion of the festival we will rejoin you here at Lanteen.”

The cords stood out along Gassoon’s long neck; he opened his mouth to speak but produced only a set of rasping sounds.

Zamp said thoughtfully: “Such a plan seems feasible to me. In fact, it is our only alternative, since Master Gassoon does not care to venture north in his own vessel.” He addressed himself to Damsel Blanche-Aster.

“I will go now and search out a suitable boat. You perhaps could help Master Gassoon weigh out the two pounds of iron.”

Gassoon strode forward. “A moment, Master Zamp; not so fast, if you please. The situation is absurd. Do you think that I carry two pounds of iron in my pocket?”

“I don’t know where you carry your iron, Master Gassoon. I only know that there is no time for delay. The monsoons are dying and we must reach Mornune.”

Gassoon gave an angry croak of defeat. “Order aboard your four bullocks and your fodder. We sail for the north at once.”

An hour before departure an item of unsettling news reached the ship, at which not even Zamp could rejoice, and which Gassoon greeted with a moan of despair. Near Bluskin on the Suanol a band of Dymnatic Black-Arrows had waylaid
Fironzelle’s Golden Conceit.
They had captured Garth Ashgale with all his troupe and sunk the ship.

Glassblower’s Point dwindled to a blue-gray triangle low on the horizon and slowly merged into the haze, like a fading memory. Ahead, the Vissel extended between low banks, sometimes barely a quarter-mile wide, sometimes so broad that the total universe seemed to consist of water and sky. Consulting the
River Index
, Zamp discovered mention of only three settlements of consequence along the way to the Bottomless Lake: Skivaree, at the confluence of the Vissel and the Pelorus; Garken, a slave-traders’ depot and caravan terminus; and Massacre Bend. Idanthus, Prairie View and Port Venable were places marked on the chart by hollow dots, to indicate a lack of definite information. Beyond Port Venable two hundred miles of wilderness were shown: swamp, steppe, an arm of the Tartark Forest; finally the Mandaman Palisades and the Bottomless Lake.

The first day out of Lanteen the wind blew brisk, with tufts of cirrus scudding across the sky, and
Miraldra’s Enchantment
drove up-river dragging a white mustache across the dun water.

On the following day the wind blew even more strongly. Long combings of stratus trailed across the sky, and at noon an ominous mass of nimbus came hulking up from the south. Gassoon nervously ordered in the foresail and mizzen, called for a reef in the mainsail, and the vessel lurched through a stormy afternoon, while Zamp put into rehearsal that version of
Macbeth
he would play at Mornune. Gassoon watched with a curled lip, then shaking his head in disgust, retired to his office. In addition to his witches’ dance and banquet entertainments, Zamp now inserted sword-dancers, a coronation pageant, and an entire new sequence, to motivate the deceptions practised upon Macbeth by the witches. At the opening of his new scene the three hags were discovered working over a great cauldron, chanting spells, capering and clenching their hands, manipulating balls of blue fire, at last to produce (in the person of Deneis, the youngest of the mime-girls) a naked lank-haired lamia, who is then sent forth to suck the blood of Lady Macbeth in payment for the presages rendered Macbeth. Lady Macbeth awakens to find the lamia kneeling over her; the lamia flees and is then hunted down and killed in the forest: a scene which Zamp considered most effective. In revenge the witches instruct Macduff that his army must carry branches from Birnam Wood during their assault upon Dunsinane Castle. After the death of Macbeth and his lady, Zamp introduced an episode of somber pomp: the coronation of Malcolm, the new king, at Scone. Here Malcolm vows the extirpation of witchcraft, and the final scene is played once more on the darkling heath. The three witches at their fire cluck and chortle at King Malcolm’s vain hopes, and address themselves to the invention of new intrigues and tragedies.

Mile after mile of the changeless river fell astern. At times a fisherman’s hut stood on the bank, or a village of ten weatherbeaten cabins from which tousle-haired children tumbled forth to watch in wonder as the showboat surged past.

On the fourth day out of Lanteen the river abruptly widened to become a placid flood, rippling and glinting in the sunlight, and presently the great Pelorus River could be discerned, making conflux from the northwest. The point of land between the two rivers displayed an irregular clutter of whitewashed houses: Skivaree.

According to the
River Index,
the folk of Skivaree were the survivors of a people from a land known as Kyl Wyff, far away to the east in Lune XXV. Omens discovered by their mantics had compelled them to migrate. A hundred years later thirty-four survivors had arrived at the Vissel where new omens commanded them to settle. By virtue of specialized skills they gained immunity from nomad attack and presently prospered; and now the Skivaree tattoo-masters, using fish-spine needles and secret inks, served all the tribes of the Tinsitala Steppe. At the Skivaree College of Decorum the daughters of nomad knights learned deportment, rug-weaving, saddle-making, the Dance of Four Movements and the Dance of Eight Movements. The
River Index
described the folk of Skivaree as affable, placid, tolerant. Despite all evidence to the contrary, they regarded themselves as members of an extra-human race, distinct from and superior to all other peoples of Big Planet. The
River Index
concluded with a rather chilling warning:

Guard your children with vigilance! Never allow them to wander the backstreets of Skivaree! Without compunction the folk will seize them, wring their necks, butcher, dress, cook and serve them at table in any of a dozen modes, without guilt or afterthought. A full description of these odd folk is beyond the scope of this volume.

Gassoon decided to stop at Skivaree, both for the profit to be derived from a performance, and to purchase fresh greens and vegetables which had been in poor supply at Lanteen and to which he was partial. Zamp made no protest, and during the middle afternoon
Miraldra’s Enchantment
warped alongside the Skivaree docks. Zamp set forth placards and proclaimed the evening’s entertainment, while Gassoon went to inspect the market offerings.

With an hour or two of leisure on his hands Zamp strolled off in the company of Viliweg to investigate the town. The site of Skivaree, exposed to the river winds, had been blown bare; the stark whitewashed stone houses all faced south but showed no orderly placement, having been sited by omen. In a carefully delineated quarter along the Vissel were grouped the tattooing studios, three inns, five beer gardens, and a ground where visitors so inclined might set up their tents. Zamp saw men of a dozen varieties in as many distinctive costumes: Dymnatics, Varls seven feet tall, Gonchos with heads concealed under contrivances of leather and wood, Khouls with skins black as midnight, Lalukes wearing simulated tails, all drawn to Skivaree for the tattooing. As a rule they carried themselves with wary punctilio, each sort armed with their distinctive and special weapons, exchanging few words with one another, eyeing hereditary enemies askance, yet deterred from violence by the edicts of the tattoo-masters who wished no interference with their revenues. The folk of Skivaree, well-fleshed, round and bland of face, with sparse ginger-colored hair, resembled none of their patrons, and if they wished to think of themselves as a non-human race, Zamp was not prepared to dispute their conviction, so long as they paid their admission fees in sound black iron.

Returning to the boat Zamp found that black iron was the subject of discussion between Gassoon and an official of Skivaree, who declared that Gassoon’s admission charges were unreasonable and exorbitant.

“Not so!” declared Gassoon. “Consider! I must invest in the boat and all my properties. Secondly, I must locate, hire, train, feed and pay an unreasonably large complement of actors, musicians and sailors. Thirdly, I journey a vast distance up this interminable river, earning no revenue until I arrive at Skivaree. Can you wonder that I am indignant when you tell me that my fees are too high?”

“There is something in what you say,” agreed the official. “Still, at Skivaree we are seldom offered entertainment and everyone will wish to enjoy your presentation. But does any person wish to squander for two hours of passive pleasure the iron which he must labor an entire day to obtain?”

Gassoon gave his head an obstinate shake. “My fees are not too high. Your wage-scale may simply be too low.”

“Ah well, we shall see,” said the official equably. “After all, what does it matter? Post your charges as high as you like; you will be assured a full audience in any case.”

Shortly after sunset Gassoon opened the ticket window at the foot of the gangplank, while the orchestra on the quarter-deck played a series of rousing jigs and rounds. At once the folk of Skivaree appeared; and paying Gassoon’s stipulated admission fee, filed aboard until every seat was occupied.

Zamp presented three introductory pieces: a pole-balancing act, Viliweg with his legerdemain, and a comic dance of clowns and simulated oels. Then the curtain rose on
Macbeth.

Zamp was pleased with the effect of his innovations. The audience sat in disciplined ranks, displaying fixed smiles of placid enjoyment. The final curtain elicited no overt approbation, and the audience filed quietly off the ship.

The civic official at once approached Gassoon. “A fine performance, excellent indeed, stinting nothing in zeal or duration. The musicians played to exact tempo; the substance of the drama was significant and timely.”