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Authors: Jack Vance

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BOOK: The Magnificent Showboats
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“Not too badly. A simple case of warp, which must be cured with steam and pressure.”

“And the propeller?”

“It has been taken to the boatyard for refinishing. Master Ashgale intends a long voyage north, and insists that all be in best condition.”

Zamp brought out his best brandy and poured generously into a goblet which he handed to Elias Quaner. “No doubt you know why we are here?”

“I have heard rumors of a competition at Mornune.”

“The rumors are accurate. Now, it goes without saying that if
Miraldra’s Enchantment
prospers, all of us prosper.”

Elias Quaner, a short man with earnest blue eyes and red-brown hair worn in the typical Quaner tufts, responded cautiously: “That would be the general hope.”

Zamp developed his ideas a step further. “We can either exert ourselves to win, or ensure that Ashgale loses.”

“Or both.”

“As you say: both … Ashgale’s drive-shaft is a member of rather large diameter?”

“Precisely sixteen inches, like our own.”

“Which necessarily would be the diameter of the hole through the sternpost?”

“Almost exactly.”

“And the water is denied admittance how?”

“A plug is the usual contrivance to this end.”

“An externally applied plug?”

“This is the best and easiest application.”

“How might this plug be dislodged?”

Elias Quaner pursed his lips. “By any of several methods. A sharp blow, for instance.”

“Would such a blow be difficult to administer?”

“By no means; a person so inclined need merely stand on the rudder and swing a mallet.”

Zamp raised his glass. “To your health and the strength of Bonko’s right arm! At an appropriate time we will discuss this matter again. In the meantime — not a word to anyone! Least of all your cousin aboard
Fironzelle’s Golden Conceit
!”

“I understand completely.”

At the door of the cabin sounded a rap-rap-rap. “Come!” called Zamp.

Chaunt the steward entered with an envelope of bright yellow paper. “This has just been handed aboard.”

Opening the envelope, Zamp withdrew a sheet of yellow paper. He read:

To the estimable Apollon Zamp:
I speak for King Waldemar of Mornune. Your noble ship
Miraldra’s Enchantment
being on hand, I invite your participation in a competition to be held tomorrow.
The procedure is this: the master of each vessel shall present that program which he considers his best. An anonymous observer will adjudge each presentation and decide upon the most excellent. Programs will follow each upon the other, commencing at noon upon the
Two Varminies
to the north of the harbor, then proceeding south from boat to boat, to terminate upon the
Miraldra’s Enchantment
.
On the following morning the qualifying shipmaster will be notified, and an announcement will be posted on the notice board before The Jolly Glassblower.
It is suggested that no entrance fee be levied upon the public for the performances of tomorrow, and that a lapse of fifteen minutes be allowed between programs, for the convenience of all.
A noble prize at Mornune lies within the scope of tomorrow’s victor! Each should strive to his best avail! Affixed below: the Seal of the House of Bohun.

The red seal attached to the yellow page depicted two griffins in a circle, each biting the other’s tail.

Zamp handed the letter to Elias Quaner, who read the letter twice in the thorough fashion of the Quaners. “Our performance will follow that of Garth Ashgale, so it would appear.”

“That would be my interpretation of the instructions. Our own drive-shaft is securely in place?”

“It is indeed.”

“Garth Ashgale is cursed with a fecund imagination. We must be vigilant. It might be wise to bring all the ship’s company aboard for the rest of the day and night.”

“A sensible precaution.”

 

Osso Santelmus opened the competition with little more than a token performance. His clowns capered to raucous music; a magician caused objects to sprout wings and fly across the stage; Santelmus himself delivered a comic monologue and simulated a fight between two vulps and a grotock.

The next presentation, aboard the
Vissel Dominator
, was somewhat more ambitious: “The Legend of Malganaspe Forest” in sixteen tableaux. The
Psychopompos Revenant
staged a ballet: “The Twelve Virgins and Buffo the Lewd Ogre”. The middle afternoon was enlivened by “Gazilda and his Unfortunate Double-jointed Idiots,” on the
Fireglass Prism
. As Phaedra the sun settled into the Lant River, the troupe aboard the
Chantrion
staged a rather macabre burlesque: “The Oel’s Dinner Party”.

The merry population of Lanteen, unaccustomed to so generous a spate of free entertainment, next thronged aboard
Fironzelle’s Golden Conceit
, where Garth Ashgale’s disciplined eight-piece orchestra played a lively mazurka.

Garth Ashgale came out on the stage and stood smiling in the focused glow of a dozen lamps. He wore a suit of rich dark blue velvet, a shirt of fine white lawn, the headdress of a Sarklentine mage. His manner was easy and suave; he held his hands up and apart to signal the orchestra to silence, and behind him the curtain drew aside a trifle to display a glimpse of the stage-setting. “My dear friends of Lanteen! It is a great pleasure to bring my troupe before an audience so discriminating; I promise I will not insult either your intelligence or your sensibilities with trivial farce or mindless saltations or lewd contortions. No! This pleasant night I bring you the drama
Rorqual
: full, authentic and unexpurgated, complete with the awful death of the traitor Eban Zirl.”

Thud
. Standing in the bow of
Miraldra’s Enchantment
, Zamp grimaced in apprehension. The sound had been somewhat louder than he expected. But Ashgale never paused in his remarks, and a moment later Bonko the boatswain crawled up a ladder from out of the dark water, to stand dripping on the deck immediately aft of the forepeak. He made a significant gesture to Zamp, then hauled on a line to bring a great skeel mallet up on deck, which he carried forward into the boatswain’s locker. Zamp returned his attention to the remarks of Garth Ashgale:

“— all realize the circumstances of this unique event. I sincerely hope that the noble observer from Mornune, whose identity is unknown to us, will derive from our performance that same sublime emotion which we, with all our hearts and faculties, have tried to put into it.

“So now:
Rorqual
!” The curtains parted to reveal one of Ashgale’s most sumptuous stage-settings.

“We find ourselves at Dalari Temple. The priestesses greet Prince Orchelstyne with music and chanting. From behind the columns of the temple appear the priestesses, weaving back and forth in a sinuous dance.”

Bonko came to join Zamp at the bow. “What occurs?”

“The stern is starting to settle. Ashgale has still noticed nothing.”

Ashgale intoned: “Prince Orchelstyne does not yet know that he has been chosen the ritual husband of the Goddess Sofre …”

Zamp said: “Now he wonders … Now he suspects … Now he is certain.”

Fironzelle’s Golden Conceit
sagged stern-first into the river, and the throng which had so recently boarded the vessel surged ashore in tumult, while Ashgale ran back and forth across the stage shouting orders to his crew.

Zamp turned to Bonko: “Put a careful guard over our hawsers. Send Sibald aloft to inspect the stays and shrouds, then station a man at the rudder-post to warn off swimmers. I want a patrol of all passageways and the outboard gunwales. Keep everyone on alert!”

Bonko rushed off to comply with the orders. Aboard
Fironzelle’s Golden Conceit
, Phinian Quaner the engineer had improvised a plug of wadded cloth to reduce the influx of water. The ship lay askew, its quarterdeck almost awash. Garth Ashgale ran in and out of his cabin, carrying forth scripts, records, clothes, mementoes, his strongbox. On shore the crowd watched for a few minutes, then, convinced that the vessel was not about to sink, began to file aboard
Miraldra’s Enchantment
.

Zamp waited until the seats were occupied, then stepped out on his stage. “With great regret I have observed the unfortunate circumstances aboard the ship of my colleague Master Garth Ashgale. The mishap, of course, was not unexpected; we had discussed the deficiencies of his boat at Coble. In any event, all of us trust that the vessel will soon be repaired and back in service.

“So now, our own contribution to the entertainment of this remarkable day: first, our diverting fantasy
The Magic Box of Ki-chi-ri.”

Zamp stepped back; the curtains drew aside to reveal the workroom of Frulk the Magician. Coming on stage, Frulk went about his experiments to a crotchety music of squeaks and quavers. His goal was the transformation of flowers into beautiful maidens, but his most earnest efforts went for naught. First he produced swirling puffs of colored smoke, then a flight of white birds, then sprays of pyrotechnics. Frulk at last discerned his mistake and performed a comical dance of excitement. He arranged six cabinets in a row and within each placed a flower: an elanthis, a tea rose, a branch of barberry blossoms, a purple tangalang, a blue Xyth lily, a yellow daffodil.

With great care Frulk performed his magic; the musicians produced chords of expectancy. Frulk uttered the activating incantation and opened his cabinets; out stepped six beautiful maidens, and Frulk cavorted around the room in a high-stepping jig of pure joy, the maidens meanwhile performing their own ballet of wonder at the mobility of their bodies. Frulk, becoming amorous, sought to capture and clasp the maidens but in wonder and innocence and alarm they eluded him.

All the while Frulk’s shrewish wife Lufa had been peering down from a window high in the wall, displaying a variety of extravagant grimaces: shock, disgust, annoyance, vindictive resolve.

Frulk ran back and forth like a maniac; the girls dodged and danced away and at last all jumped back into their cabinets and slammed the doors. Frulk, snatching open the doors, discovered only the flowers he had placed there previously.

Frulk walked back and forth in cogitation, then made preparations to perform his magic again. Lufa entered the room and sent Frulk away on an errand. As soon as Frulk had departed, Lufa opened the cabinets, pulled forth the flowers, tore them apart, gnashed them with her teeth, ground them into the floor. Then from a basket she took noisome herbs: dog’s-breath, slankweed, erflatus, rhume, zogma, carrion weed; these she placed in the cabinets and after a caper of wicked glee left the room.

Frulk entered and, assured of Lufa’s absence, once again performed his sorcery. On tiptoe he approached the cabinets, poised himself to grasp the beauties as they emerged, reached forward and the doors to all the cabinets flew wide. Out leapt six grotesques. Frulk jumped back aghast, and as the orchestra played a maniac two-step, the grotesques pursued Frulk around the room. Down came the curtain.

Bonko came to report to Zamp. “I have arranged guards. The hawsers were soaked with acid and cut with blades, ready to part and drift us out on the river.”

Zamp snorted in annoyance. “That villain Ashgale has no conscience! The hawsers are mended?”

“As good as new.”

“Continue the alert.”

The curtain drew back on one of Zamp’s famous tableaux. Twenty members of the troupe wearing black garments and black masks stood before a black backdrop holding colored targets on rods, to create geometrical intricacies. From the orchestra came a click-clacking of drums and a muffled tinkling of the vitrophon; with each accent of the rhythm, the targets shifted into a new pattern, an effect which after a few moments became hypnotic.

Bonko came running to find Zamp. “A fire in the fore-peak! A phosphorus clock was buried under rags and hay!”

Zamp ran forward, to find billows of smoke pouring from the boatswain’s locker. Deck-hands formed a chain, passed buckets of water into the locker, and the fire was extinguished. Bonko told Zamp: “The timing was precise; someone intended to panic the audience!”

“Ashgale has the soul of a mad dog; nothing deters him! Maintain a most careful watch!”

The curtain descended on the tableau and jugglers came forth to provide a brief interlude, throwing disks out over the audience, which swooped in a circle and returned to the jugglers’ hands.

Bonko again reported to Zamp. “Two men in voluminous robes sit yonder in the audience; I believe they carry concealed objects.”

“Conduct them to the quarter-deck, search them and deal with them accordingly.”

Bonko returned several minutes later. “Villains as I suspected! They carried cages of pests, vermin and fire-hornets, which they were about to release into the audience. We thrashed them and threw them into the river.”

“Excellent,” said Zamp. “Remain vigilant.”

The curtain drew back to reveal the surface of an exotic planet. Two men descended in a simulated space-boat; they marveled at the peculiar conditions and experienced a set of ludicrous mishaps. In the trees sat huge insects playing a weird music on bizarre instruments. The music stopped short as a group of near-nude, near-human creatures appeared, running on all fours. The creatures gamboled and frisked, and inspected the space-men with affectionate curiosity. The insect musicians again played music; the running creatures performed an eccentric and rather lewd dance in which the space-men joined. The dance became a bacchanalian frenzy.

BOOK: The Magnificent Showboats
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