"Your door was open," the stranger explained.
His accent was clipped and harsh, and Barr did not fail to notice thestrange blue-steel hand-weapon at his hip1. In the half gloom of the smallroom, Barr saw the glow of a force-shield surrounding the man.
He said, wearily, "There is no reason to keep it closed. Do you wishanything of me?""Yes." The stranger remained standing2 in the center of the room. He waslarge, both in height and bulk. "Yours is the only house about here.""It is a desolate place," agreed Barr, "but there is a town to the east. Ican show you the way'.""In a while. May I sit?""If the chairs will hold you," said the old man, gravely. They were old,too. Relics3 of a better youth.
The stranger said, "My name is Hober Mallow. I come from a far province."Barr nodded and smiled, "Your tongue convicted you of that long ago. I amOnum Barr of Siwenna ? and once Patrician4 of the Empire.""Then this is Siwenna. I had only old maps to guide me.""They would have to be old, indeed, for star-positions to be misplaced."Barr sat quite still, while the other's eyes drifted away into a reverie.
He noticed that the nuclear force-shield had vanished from about the manand admitted dryly to himself that his person no longer seemed formidableto strangers ? or even, for good or for evil, to his enemies.
He said, "My house is poor and my resources few. You may share what I haveif your stomach can endure black bread and dried corn."Mallow shook his head, "No, I have eaten, and I can't stay. All I need arethe directions to the center of government.""That is easily enough done, and poor though I am, deprives me of nothing.
Do you mean the capital of the planet, or of the Imperial Sector5?"The younger man's eyes narrowed, "Aren't the two identical? Isn't thisSiwenna?"The old patrician nodded slowly, "Siwenna, yes. But Siwenna is no longercapital of the Normannic Sector. Your old map has misled you after all. Thestars may not change even in centuries, but political boundaries are alltoo fluid.""That's too bad. In fact, that's very bad. Is the new capital far off?""It's on Orsha II. Twenty parsecs off. Your map will direct you. How old isit?""A hundred and fifty years.""That old?" The old man sighed. "History has been crowded since. Do youknow any of it?"Mallow shook his bead6 slowly.
Barr said, "You're fortunate. It has been an evil time for the provinces,but for the reign7 of Stannell VI, and he died fifty years ago. Since thattime, rebellion and ruin, ruin and rebellion." Barr wondered if he weregrowing garrulous8. It was a lonely life out here, and he had so littlechance to talk to men.
Mallow said with sudden sharpness, "Ruin, eh? You sound as if the provincewere impoverished9.""Perhaps not on an absolute scale. The physical resources of twenty-fivefirst-rank planets take a long time to use up. Compared to the wealth ofthe last century, though, we have gone a long way downhill ?and there isno sign of turning, not yet. Why are you so interested in all this, youngman? You are all alive and your eyes shine!"The trader came near enough to blushing, as the faded eyes seemed to looktoo deep into his and smile at what they saw.
He said, "Now look here. I'm a trader out there ?out toward the rim10 of theGalaxy. I've located some old maps, and I'm out to open new markets.
Naturally, talk of impoverished provinces disturbs me. You can't get moneyout of a world unless money's there to be got. Now how's Siwenna, forinstance?"The old man leaned forward, "I cannot say. It will do even yet, perhaps.
But you a trader? You look more like a fighting man. You hold your handnear your gun and there is a scar on your jawbone."Mallow jerked his head, "There isn't much law out there where I come from.
Fighting and scars are part of a trader's overhead. But fighting is onlyuseful when there's money at the end, and if I can get it without, so muchthe sweeter. Now will I find enough money here to make it worth thefighting? I take it I can find the fighting easily enough.""Easily enough," agreed Barr. "You could join Wiscard's remnants in the RedStars. I don't know, though, if you'd call that fighting or piracy12. Or youcould join our present gracious viceroy ? gracious by right of murder,pillage13, rapine, and the word of a boy Emperor, since rightfullyassassinated." The patrician's thin cheeks reddened. His eyes closed andthen opened, bird-bright.
"You don't sound very friendly to the viceroy, Patrician Barr," saidMallow. "What if I'm one of his spies?""What if you are?" said Barr, bitterly. "What can you take?" He gestured awithered arm at the bare interior of the decaying mansion15.
"Your life.""It would leave me easily enough. It has been with me five years too long.
But you are not one of the viceroy's men. If you were, perhaps even nowinstinctive self-preservation would keep my mouth closed.""How do you know?"The old man laughed, "You seem suspicious ?Come, I'll wager16 you think I'mtrying to trap you into denouncing the government. No, no. I am pastpolitics.""Past politics? Is a man ever past that? The words you used to describe theviceroy ?what were they? Murder, pillage, all that. You didn't soundobjective. Not exactly. Not as if you were past politics."The old man shrugged17, "Memories sting when they come suddenly. Listen!
Judge for yourself! When Siwenna was the provincial18 capital, I was apatrician and a member of the provincial senate. My family was an old andhonored one. One of my great-grandfathers had been?No, never mind that.
Past glories are poor feeding.""I take it," said Mallow, "there was a civil war, or a revolution."Barr's face darkened. "Civil wars are chronic19 in these degenerate20 days, butSiwenna had kept apart. Under Stannell VI, it had almost achieved itsancient prosperity. But weak emperors followed, and weak emperors meanstrong viceroys, and our last viceroy ?the same Wiscard, whose remnantsstill prey21 on the commerce among the Red Stars ?aimed at the ImperialPurple. He wasn't the first to aim. And if he had succeeded, he wouldn'thave been the first to succeed.
"But he failed. For when the Emperor's Admiral approached the province atthe head of a fleet, Siwenna itself rebelled against its rebel viceroy." Hestopped, sadly.
Mallow found himself tense on the edge of his seat, and relaxed slowly,"Please continue, sir.""Thank you," said Barr, wearily. "It's kind of you to humor an old man.
They rebelled; or I should say, we rebelled, for I was one of the minorleaders. Wiscard left Siwenna, barely ahead of us, and the planet, and withit the province, were thrown open to the admiral with every gesture ofloyalty to the Emperor. Why we did this, 朓'm not sure. Maybe we felt loyalto the symbol, if not the person, of the Emperor, 朼 cruel and viciouschild. Maybe we feared the horrors of a siege.""Well?" urged Mallow, gently.
"Well, came the grim retort, "that didn't suit the admiral. He wanted theglory of conquering a rebellious22 province and his men wanted the loot suchconquest would involve. So while the people were still gathered in everylarge city, cheering the Emperor and his admiral, he occupied all armedcenters, and then ordered the population put to the nuclear blast.""On what pretext23?""On the pretext that they had rebelled against their viceroy, the Emperor'sanointed. And the admiral became the new viceroy, by virtue24 of one month ofmassacre, pillage and complete horror. I had six sons. Five died ?
variously. I had a daughter. I hope she died, eventually. I escaped becauseI was old. I came here, too old to cause even our viceroy worry." He benthis gray head, "They left me nothing, because I had helped drive out arebellious governor and deprived an admiral of his glory."Mallow sat silent, and waited. Then, "What of your sixth son?" he askedsoftly.
"Eh?" Barr smiled acidly. "He is safe, for he has joined the admiral as acommon soldier under an assumed name. He is a gunner in the viceroy'spersonal fleet. Oh, no, I see your eyes. He is not an unnatural25 son. Hevisits me when he can and gives me what he can. He keeps me alive. And someday, our great and glorious viceroy will grovel26 to his death, and it willbe my son who will be his executioner.""And you tell this to a stranger? You endanger your son.""No. I help him, by introducing a new enemy. And were I a friend of theviceroy, as I am his enemy, I would tell him to string outer space withships, clear to the rim of the Galaxy11.""There are no ships there?""Did you find any? Did any space-guards question your entry? With ships fewenough, and the bordering provinces filled with their share of intrigue27 andiniquity, none can be spared to guard the barbarian28 outer suns. No dangerever threatened us from the broken edge of the Galaxy, 杣ntil you came.""I? I'm no danger.""There will be more after you."Mallow shook his head slowly, "I'm not sure I understand you.""Listen!" There was a feverish29 edge to the old man's voice. "I knew youwhen you entered. You have a force-shield about your body, or had when Ifirst saw you."Doubtful silence, then, "Yes, 朓 had.""Good. That was a flaw, but you didn't know that. There are some things Iknow. It's out of fashion in these decaying times to be a scholar. Eventsrace and flash past and who cannot fight the tide with nuclear-blast inhand is swept away, as I was. But I was a scholar, and I know that in allthe history of nucleics, no portable force-shield was ever invented. Wehave force-shields ?huge, lumbering30 powerhouses that will protect a city,or even a ship, but not one, single man.""Ah?" Mallow's underlip thrust out. "And what do you deduce from that?""There have been stories percolating through space. They travel strangepaths and become distorted with every parsec, 朾ut when I was young therewas a small ship of strange men, who did not know our customs and could nottell where they came from. They talked of magicians at the edge of theGalaxy; magicians who glowed in the darkness, who flew unaided through theair, and whom weapons would not touch.
"We laughed. I laughed, too. I forgot it till today. But you glow in thedarkness, and I don't think my blaster, if I had one, would hurt you. Tellme, can you fly through air as you sit there now?"Mallow said calmly, "I can make nothing of all this."Barr smiled, "I'm content with the answer. I do not examine my guests. Butif there are magicians; if you are one of them; there may some day be agreat influx31 of them, or you. Perhaps that would be well. Maybe we need newblood." He muttered soundlessly to himself, then, slowly, "But it works theother way, too. Our new viceroy also dreams, as did our old Wiscard.""Also after the Emperor's crown?"Barr nodded, "My son hears tales. In the viceroy's personal entourage, onecould scarcely help it. And he tells me of them. Our new viceroy would notrefuse the Crown if offered, but he guards his line of retreat. There arestories that, failing Imperial heights, he plans to carve out a new Empirein the Barbarian hinterland. It is said, but I don't vouch32 for this, thathe has already given one of his daughters as wife to a Kinglet somewhere inthe uncharted Periphery33.""If one listened to every story?
"I know. There are many more. I'm old and I babble34 nonsense. But what doyou say?" And those sharp, old eyes peered deep.
The trader considered, "I say nothing. But I'd like to ask something. DoesSiwenna have nuclear power? Now, wait, I know that it possesses theknowledge of nucleics. I mean, do they have power generators35 intact, or didthe recent sack destroy them?""Destroy them? Oh, no. Half a planet would be wiped out before the smallestpower station would be touched. They are irreplaceable and the suppliers ofthe strength of the fleet." Almost proudly, "We have the largest and beston this side of Trantor itself.""Then what would I do first if I wanted to see these generators?""Nothing!" replied Barr, decisively. "You couldn't approach any militarycenter without being shot down instantly. Neither could anyone. Siwenna isstill deprived of civic36 rights.""You mean all the power stations are under the military?""No. There are the small city stations, the ones supplying power forheating and lighting homes, powering vehicles and so forth37. Those arealmost as bad. They're controlled by the tech-men.""Who are they?""A specialized group which supervises the power plants. The honor ishereditary, the young ones being brought up in the profession asapprentices. Strict sense of duty, honor, and all that. No one but atech-man could enter a station.""I see.""I don't say, though," added Barr, "that there aren't cases where tech-menhaven't been bribed39. In days when we have nine emperors in fifty years andseven of these are assassinated14, 杦hen every space-captain aspires40 to theusurpation of a viceroyship, and every viceroy to the Imperium,I suppose even a tech-man can fall prey to money. But it would require agood deal, and I have none. Have you?""Money? No. But does one always bribe38 with money?""What else, when money buys all else.""There is quite enough that money won't buy. And now if you'll tell me thenearest city with one of the stations, and how best to get there, I'llthank you.""Wait!" Barr held out his thin hands. "Where do you rush? You come here,but I ask no questions. In the city, where the inhabitants are still calledrebels, you would be challenged by the first soldier or guard who heardyour accent and saw your clothes."He rose and from an obscure comer of an old chest brought out a booklet.
"My passport, 杅orged. I escaped with it."He placed it in Mallow's hand and folded the fingers over it. "Thedescription doesn't fit, but if you flourish it, the chances are many toone they will not look closely.""But you. You'll be left without one."The old exile shrugged cynically41, "What of it? And a further caution. Curbyour tongue! Your accent is barbarous, your idioms peculiar42, and every oncein a while you deliver yourself of the most astounding43 archaisms. The lessyou speak, the less suspicion you will draw upon yourself. Now I'll tellyou how to get to the city?
Five minutes later, Mallow was gone.
He returned but once, for a moment, to the old patrician's house, beforeleaving it entirely44, however. And when Onum Barr stepped into his littlegarden early the next morning, he found a box at his feet. It containedprovisions, concentrated provisions such as one would find aboard ship, andalien in taste and preparation.
But they were good, and lasted long.
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1
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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sector
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| n.部门，部分；防御地段，防区；扇形 | |
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bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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galaxy
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| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
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piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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pillage
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| v.抢劫；掠夺；n.抢劫，掠夺；掠夺物 | |
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assassinated
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| v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 )；中伤；诋毁；破坏 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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pretext
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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grovel
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| vi.卑躬屈膝，奴颜婢膝 | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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barbarian
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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lumbering
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influx
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vouch
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periphery
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| n.(圆体的)外面；周围 | |
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babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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generators
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| n.发电机，发生器( generator的名词复数 )；电力公司 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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aspires
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的第三人称单数 ) | |
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cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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