The Totems of Abydos Read online

  Brenner looked about the lounge. Things were now in place. The lights were on. The webbing floated about, attached to its stanchions. He could see the door. He could see the controls for the lights, both at the port and near the door. By listening carefully he could detect the soft hum of the filtering system, regulating the gases in the room. He was still agitated by his conversation with Rodriguez, but now his blood had ceased to churn, no longer was he drenched with sweat, no longer was he afraid, or angry. He now, once again, had his values in order. How absurd for him to have let Rodriguez disturb him. Brenner’s tentative little odyssey of thought, stimulated by the hurricane of Rodriguez’ monstrousness, had subsided. To be sure, there was a lingering uneasiness in him. Rodriguez could have that effect on people. He did glance down once at a certain place on the plating but quickly glanced away. He must control his thoughts. He must not let them rise in him like a sun in the morning, or spring up like flowers, like grass or mountains. He must not attend to them. Who knew where such thoughts, such things, emerging as though from lairs concealed beneath distant horizons, asserting themselves imperiously, naturally, as though springing from forgotten seeds, as though growing from deep soils, might lead? Rodriguez is a monster, thought Brenner. Then he made his way to the exit, turned off the lights, left the lounge, and, amongst the pipes and girderwork, made his way to his cabin. Shortly thereafter, he had hooked himself in his rest webbing, and retired.

  He did not go to sleep immediately.

  He thought of a number of things, and, in particular, his assignment, and the world, Abydos.

  As he grew drowsy, he found it more and more difficult to keep his mind from drifting back to his conversation with Rodriguez.

  He is an unregenerate monster, thought Brenner.

  And, too, as he grew more and more drowsy, it was difficult not to remember what the directress had looked like, as he had imagined her, with such specificity, on the plating, in that exact place. Even her expression recurred to him, and how she had lifted her hands, in their linked bracelets. Then, too, she had looked well, lying on her side, looking up at him. And he thought, too, of other women he had seen, perhaps even casually on a conveyance or on a street, or known, from one place or another, and wondered what they, too, might have looked like in various situations, and attitudes, not in their mannish garbs designed to protect their personness, as though it would much need protection on the home world, of course, but in snatches of cotton or shreds of silk. And when they ascended the block, of course, they would be permitted not even so much. How well they served! And their glances, how soft, how shy, how timid. And that one, did she not dance? Brenner turned in the webbing, trying to force these thoughts from his mind. It seemed their whispers were about him, almost inaudible, tiny, plaintive whispers requesting attention. He scarcely dared to open his eyes lest he should seem to see them, shadowy in the darkness. Were they there? It almost seemed he might feel their touch. He turned in the webbing. He was in misery. He chastised himself mercilessly. How could he, a modernist and a lifest, have such thoughts? And had he not actually known some of these women, as fellow students, as colleagues, and such? How then could he conceive of them thusly, as though they might be naught but Naxian property girls, owned as much as a dog or a pig on Chios? But Rodriguez, he supposed, angrily, would have taken it all in his stride, and, indeed, got what he wanted from them, and more. Then doubtless he would have sold them, before returning to the home world. It would not do, of course, to bring in such merchandise, not to the home world. Then, failing to rid himself of these thoughts by various acts of will, requiring one degree or another of heroism, he hit upon another tack, and simply ordered the women from his presence. Clearly some were reluctant to leave, but none, it seemed, dared consider disobeying. Brenner found that of interest. Brenner now lay quietly in the webbing. He was on a company ship. He was alone in his cabin. Shortly thereafter he went to sleep. To be sure, the women returned in his sleep, to kneel, to serve, to be near him. The directress was amongst them, but her place was farther back. Brenner saw that one of the women, a brunette, in a bit of silk that did not more than scorn the pretense that she was a person and not a female, rose to her feet and approached him. She leaned over the webbing. In the darkness her body seemed pale. About her throat was a tiny, closely linked chain, with an attached plate, bearing her name, a single, simple name, and her number. Her lips were about to touch his. Then, suddenly, frightened, angrily, in a cold sweat, he awakened. Shortly thereafter he went back to sleep. He was awakened once more that night, but by the roar of a great savage beast. The roar echoed about the ship. He had heard it before, on other watches. It emanated from a cage, or containment, not far away.

  Then Brenner went back to sleep.

  Chapter 3

  “I need a drink,” said Rodriguez.

  The mud in most places was more than ankle deep on the unpaved streets of Company Station. Here and there a few boards, wet and slick in the muck, were laid end to end, of which boards Brenner, as he could, took advantage. Rodriguez, wading from point to point, with Euclidean methodicality, availed himself of these boards only as they might be so fortunate as to lie in such a way as to be coincident with his independently elected path. This was perhaps not irrational as there were clearly limits to the amount of mud which could adhere to a single pair of boots and trousers. Brenner, who had fallen twice already, was covered with mud. So, too, was the valise he carried. Inside his boots, it was like wading within wading. Every time he put his foot down, it forced water to the sides and over his foot, which water, as he lifted his foot, eddied back to the insole. A light drizzle, having succeeded a harder rain, was still falling.

  “Let’s check in at Company Hostel,” said Brenner, slipping, regaining his balance.

  “That’s not the sort of bar I’m looking for,” said Rodriguez, looking about in the gloom, the soft rain.

  Brenner was not enthusiastic about Company Station, even from the first moments after they had disembarked from the fueler. It was still hard to see in the gloom, with the drizzle, and the cloudiness of the day. Company Station seemed, for the most part, to be a depressive, dismal, squalid collection of low, unpainted, unimpressive buildings, many, in spite of their age, being of the sort which would normally have been regarded as temporary. Some might date back from the transitional period between a camp and the first days of a town. To be sure, here and there, back from the main buildings, were occasional small buildings, quite possibly residences, cottages and such, with white fences, with window boxes, with some hint of landscaping. Brenner squinted against the drizzle, squeezing water from between his eyelids. The bulk of their baggage, which was not much, was being held by the day agent at the fueling depot. It was to be delivered to Company Hostel in the early evening, by the porters of the night agent. The standard vehicle for such deliveries, at this time of year, was the mud sled, in the traces a quorn, a web-footed, salamandertype creature, wheeled vehicles tending to be impractical in the mire. The company, of course, also had at its disposal motorized mud sleds. Brenner did not care for the thought of the baggage being delivered in virtue of the exploitation of a beast of burden, doubtless enslaved for such a purpose, but, after all, he was not in charge of Company Station and also did not much care to his try his hand at drawing the sled himself. For one thing, the quorn was much better at such things than he would be, being much more powerful, much more sure-footed, and so on. On many worlds, incidentally, the use of beasts of burden was not unknown, and, in spite of its possible moral impropriety, was accorded some justification on the basis of various ecological considerations, such as avoiding poisoning the atmosphere. Indeed, on some worlds, the form of animal known as the horse, long extinct on the home world, continued to thrive in such a capacity, and several others, such as affording mounts. Indeed, on some of the openly stratified worlds, or “strong worlds,” as Rodriguez might have called them, riders were common, sometimes with slaves at their stirrup. Too, on some worlds Brenner kn
ew that his own species served in similar capacities, largely as beasts of burden, mounts, racing stock, and such, for more technologically advanced, if not superior, life forms. Unable to do anything about this, given the cumulative consequences of their own moral, technological, and cosmic choices, many members of his species praised this, claiming to see in it a form of compensatory justice, a putative compensation for wrongs perpetrated by their species in the past. To be sure, such members of Brenner’s species seldom visited such worlds, in this perhaps manifesting some puzzling inconsistency, apparently being unwilling to risk being seized as stock, in spite of the fact that such a fate would clearly seem, at least from their own point of view, to contribute to the redressing of outrageous wrongs, to the righting of the hitherto skewed balances of justice. The population of Company Station was about two thousand individuals, most of whom were of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species. Most stations were manned, at least substantially, by members of a given species, for reasons earlier suggested. Most, but not all, of the individuals at Company Station were company employees. As would be expected, given the type of chartering involved, such as was granted by nations or worlds claiming sovereignty over various territories or worlds in virtue of discovery or exploration, the company controlled the land within specified limits, and was additionally entitled to the exploitation of certain rights, in particular mineral rights, beyond it; naturally, too, the company managed and maintained, to one degree or another, all permanent structures erected within the strict charter limits; lastly it might be noted that the company owned and managed most businesses within the same limits, in particular, businesses which had to do primarily with the supplying of goods, such as groceries, clothing, equipment, and numerous sundries, as opposed to services, such as barbering and laundering. This is not to deny, of course, that there were some services controlled by the company, such as medical and dental care, nor that there were various goods available on the shelves of small businessmen who were not company employees, businessmen, however, or business creatures, if you like, for they were not all members of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species, who leased their premises from the company. The bars, for example, were on the whole in the keeping of these independent fellows, or creatures, as the case might be. The only official currency at Company Station was company credits. Commonworld credits, and others, however, might be transformed, for a fee, into company credits at the current rate of exchange, and, of course, subject to company approval, usually easily obtained, company credits, for a fee, could be transformed into various currencies, this for the convenience of individuals who might be leaving the station. Naturally, as on many worlds in this portion of the galaxy, most exchanges consisted simply of shifting numbers amongst accounts, rather than in the actual exchange of material tokens, such as pieces of paper or metal. Barter, too, of course, as always, provided an additional medium of exchange. It is interesting to note that on several of the openly stratified, or “strong,” worlds, material tokens, in all their primitiveness, tended to remain in use. Here the thought seemed to be that something real would be exchanged for something real, for example, a coin for a woman. On some of these worlds there was a coin in circulation called the “slave.” In this sense a slave might be purchased for one or more “slaves.” In these worlds where realities were exchanged for realities some thought it was regarded as incumbent on a female slave, regardless of the price put on her, to strive to the best of her ability to vindicate her purchaser’s confidence in her, and his expectations, testified to by his actual paying out real money, of whatever amount, to obtain her. This, of course, is a misconception as it is incumbent on the slave in any case, in virtue of the very nature of her condition, and regardless of the modality in virtue of which her ownership is acquired, even if it is only in virtue of the shifting of numbers amongst accounts, to be totally pleasing. It is also interesting to note that on the strong worlds, as opposed to certain other worlds which commonly make a meretricious pretense to moral posture, sophisticated devices of correction or punishment are seldom, if ever, used. Relatively primitive modalities, such as those of leather and iron, in keeping with the tendency of such worlds to maintain natural relationships, apparently well serve their needs.

  There was a rolling, grinding sound from overhead, and Brenner looked up, startled, and almost slipped.

  “Be careful,” said Rodriguez.

  Overhead, on the track system raised above the street, a small engine, controlled by a single trainman, was pulling a train of canisters strapped on hemispherical cars.

  “The ship hasn’t left yet,” said Rodriguez.

  The ice formed on the canisters suggested that they contained an oxidizer, probably for the freighter’s auxiliary power systems.

  Fuel, and such, as I have suggested, was conveyed between the freighter and the depot by smaller ships.

  “The ship may not even be unloaded yet,” added Rodriguez.

  They had left the ship on the first return trip of the depot fueler.

  Brenner speculated that what Rodriguez had said might be correct. Doubtless, at any rate, there would be supplies, and such, which the freighter would disembark, via fuelers, at Company Station. It needed its goods, as well as the freighter its fuel. No passengers from Company Station had come up from the surface to the freighter, nor had Brenner noted any in the vicinity of the agent’s office. That, however, he supposed, was only to be expected. Aside from the occasional trips, and routings about, of company employees, their comings and goings on leaves, or upon the initiation or completion of their assignments, and such things, he supposed there would be very little passenger traffic at Company Station. “Company Station,” incidentally, is identified in company records by a number, associated with that of Abydos herself on the charts. That number, in effect, is its real name. To certain elements of those in the middle executive ranks of the company, it was known as “Abydos Station.” To those in the higher levels of the executive ranks of the company it was probably not known at all. Since those on Abydos were well aware they were on Abydos, and, it seems, did not wish to identify their location by a number, they spoke of it simply as we have, as “Company Station.” And Brenner and Rodriguez, as you may assume, also adopted this policy. It is not germane to our account, but one may speculate that there were several way stations, fueling depots, and such, throughout the galaxy, to which diverse companies held charters, which were also identified, at least locally, as “Company Station.” But this is not unusual; in many areas, even countries, there will be more than one town, or area, called by the same name. This normally works no hardship on anyone as long as the diverse locations of these towns, or polities, or areas, are clearly understood. Similarly, of course, numerous members of diverse species, rational and otherwise, bore similar names. We may assume, for example, that here and there in the galaxy there were several individuals who bore the names ‘Allan Brenner’ and ‘Emilio Rodriguez’. They are not such strange or unusual names. Too, some of these entities might not even have been of the same species as our Brenner and Rodriguez. For example, given the missionary work of the Humblers, earlier referred to, several members of Brenner’s and Rodriguez’ species had taken Humbler names. Similarly perhaps, for one reason or another, perhaps in virtue of amity or, more unfortunately, in virtue of derogatory judicial discrimination against certain minorities on various worlds, certain members of other species may have been assigned names usually found more commonly amongst members of the species of Brenner and Rodriguez. One should not totally discount either the possibility of an independent origin. Too, many members of the species of Brenner and Rodriguez, particularly those living on certain worlds, had abandoned traditional names in favor of more modern appellations. For example, Brenner and Rodriguez doubtless did not have the same names as those of remote forebears, say, of the sort who might have occupied limestone caves and concerned themselves with the working of stone, wood, and bone.