The Houses of Iszm by Jack Vance

Author:Jack Vance
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: sf
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 1964-01-30T05:00:00+00:00

VII

Not till the Andrei Simic was space-borne and the captain came to the lounge for the routine reading of the ship’s regulations did Farr see his fellow passengers. There were seven Iszic, nine Earthers, the three Monagi savants, three Codain monks performing a ritual pilgrimage around the worlds, five others of assorted worlds, most of whom had arrived at Iszm with the ship. Except for Omon Bozhd, the Iszic wore the gold and black stripes of planter’s agents, high-caste austere men, more or less of a type. Farr presumed that two or perhaps three were Szecr. The Earthers included a pair of talkative young students, a grizzled sanitary engineer on leave to Earth, the Anderviews, Ralf and Willeran, and Carto and Maudel Wlewska, a young couple on tour.

Farr assessed the group, trying to picture each in the role of a potential assassin and finally admitted himself at a loss. Those who had already been aboard the ship seemed automatically eliminated from suspicion, as did the Codain monks and the cherubic Monagi. It was wildly unreasonable to suspect the Iszics, which more or less left the Earthers—but why should any of these seek to harm him? Why should he expect harm from anyone? He scratched his head in perplexity, disturbing the scab he still carried from his slide down the Tjiere root-tube.

The voyage settled into routine—steady identical hours broken by meals and sleep-periods at whatever rhythm the passenger chose. To while away the tedium, or perhaps because the tedium provided nothing else to think of, Farr began an innocent flirtation with Mrs. Anderview. Her husband was engrossed in writing a voluminous report regarding the achievements of his mission at Dapa Coory, on the planet Mazen, and was seen only at meal-times, leaving Mrs. Anderview much to herself—and to Farr. She was a graceful woman, with a rich mouth and a provocative half-smile. Farr’s part in the affair extended no further than a frame of mind, a warmth of tone, a significant glance or two—a lukewarm matter at best. He was correspondingly surprised when Mrs. Anderview, whose first name he did not know, came quietly into his cabin one evening, smiling with a kind of shy recklessness.

Farr sat up blinking.

“May I come in?”

“You’re already in.”

Mrs. Anderview nodded slowly and slid the panel shut behind her. Farr noticed suddenly that she was far prettier than he had let himself observe, that she wore a perfume of indefinable sweetness: aloes, cardamon, limone.

She sat beside him. “I grow so bored,” she complained. “Night after night Merritt writes, it’s always the same. He thinks of nothing but his budget. And I—I like fun.”

The invitation could hardly have been more explicit. Farr examined first one side of the situation then the other. He cleared his throat, while Mrs. Anderview, blushing a little, watched him.

There was a rap at the door. Farr jumped to his feet, as if he were already guilty. He eased the panel open. Waiting outside was Omon Bozhd.

“Farr Sainh, may I consult you for a moment? I would consider it a great favor.

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