"I am more interested in the documents than in Lord Cizante. If he wants to see me he can come here to the inn."
Helsse gave a brittle chuckle. "Your response is no surprise. If you are ready I will conduct you to South Ebron where we will find a Lokhar."
"There are no Yao scholars who read the Wankh language?"
"Such facility would seem pointless expertise."
"Until someone wanted a document translated."
Helsse gave an indifferent twitch. "At this play of the 'round,' Utilitarianism is an alien philosophy. Lord Cizante, for instance, would find your arguments not only incomprehensible but disgusting."
"We shall never argue the matter," said Reith equably.
Helsse had come in an extremely elegant equipage: a blue carriage with six scarlet wheels and a profusion of golden festoons. The interior was like a luxurious drawing room, with gray-green wainscoting, a pale gray carpet, an arched ceiling covered with green silk. The chairs were deeply upholstered; to the side, under the windows of pale green glass, a buffet offered trays of sweetmeats. Helsse ushered his guests into the car with the utmost politeness; today he wore a suit of pale green and gray, as if to blend himself into the decor of the carriage.
When all were seated, he touched a button to close the door and retract the steps. Reith observed, "Lord Cizante, while deriding utilitarianism as a doctrine, apparently does not flout its applications."
"You refer to the door-closing mechanism? He is not aware that it exists.
Someone is always at hand to touch the button for him. Like others of his class he touches objects only in play or pleasure. You find this odd? No matter. You must accept the Yao gentry as you find them."
"Evidently you do not regard yourself as a member of the Yao gentry."
Helsse laughed. "More tactful might be the conjecture that I enjoy what I am doing." He spoke into a mesh. "To the South Ebron Mercade."
The carriage eased into motion. Helsse poured goblets of syrup and proffered sweetmeats. "You are about to visit our commercial district; the source of our wealth, in fact, though it is considered vulgar to discuss it."
"Strange," mused Anacho. "Dirdir, at the highest level, are never so hoity-toity."
"They are a different race," said Helsse. "Superior? I am not convinced. The Wankh would never agree, should they trouble to examine the concept."
Anacho gave a contemptuous shrug but said no more.
The carriage rolled through a market area: the Mercade, then into a district of small dwellings, in a wonderful diversity of style. At a cluster of squat brick towers the carriage halted. Helsse pointed to a nearby garden where sat a dozen men of spectacular appearance. They wore white shirts and trousers, their hair, long and abundant, was also white; in striking contrast to the lusterless black of their skins. "Lokhars," said Helsse. "Migrating mechanics from the highlands north of Lake Falas in Central Kislovan. That is not their natural coloration; they bleach their hair and dye their skin. Some say the Wankh enforced the custom upon them thousands of years ago to differentiate them from Wankhmen, who of course are white-skinned and black-haired. In any event, they come and go, working where they gain the highest return, for they are a remarkably avaricious folk. Some, after laboring in the Wankh shops, have migrated north to Cath; a few of these know a chime or two of Wankh-talk and occasionally can puzzle out the sense of Wankh documents. Notice the old man yonder playing with the child; he is reckoned as adept in Wankh as any. He will demand a large sum for his efforts, and in order to forestall even more exorbitant demands in the future I must haggle with him. If you will be good enough to wait, I will go to make the arrangements."
"A moment," said Reith. "At a conscious level I am convinced of your integrity, but I can't control my instinctive suspicions. Let us make the arrangement together."
"As you wish," said Helsse graciously. "I will send the chauffeur for the man."
He spoke into the mesh.
Anacho murmured, "If the arrangements were already made, the qualms of a trusting person might easily be drugged."
Helsse nodded judiciously. "I believe I can assuage your anxieties."
A moment later the old man sauntered up to the carriage.
"Inside, if you please," said Helsse.
The old man poked his white-maned face through the door. "My time is valuable; what do you want of me?"
"A matter for your profit."
"Profit, eh? I can at least listen." He entered the carriage, and seated himself with a comfortable grunt. The air took on the odor of a spicy, slightly rancid pomade. Helsse stood in front of him. With a side glance toward Reith he said,
"Our arrangement is canceled. Do not heed my instructions."
" 'Arrangement'? 'Instructions'? What are you talking about? You must mistake me for another. I am Zarfo Detwiler."
Helsse made an easy gesture. "It's all one. We want you to translate a Wankh document for us, the guide to a treasure hoard. Translate correctly, you shall share the booty."
"No, no, none of that." Zarfo Detwiler waved a black finger. "I'll share the booty with pleasure; additionally I want a hundred sequins, and no recriminations if I fail to satisfy you."
"No recriminations, agreed. But a hundred sequins for possibly nothing?
Ridiculous. Here: five sequins and eat your fill of the expensive sweetmeats."
"That last I'll do anyway; am I not your invited guest?" Zarfo Detwiler popped a handful of dainties into his mouth. "You must think me a moon-calf to offer but five sequins. Only three persons in Settra can so much as tell you which side of a Wankh ideogram is up. I alone can read meaning, by virtue of thirty toilsome years in the Ao Hidis machine shops."
The haggling proceeded; Zarfo Detwiler eventually agreed to fifty sequins and a tenth share of the assumptive spoils. Helsse signaled Reith, who produced the documents.
Zarfo Detwiler took the papers, squinted, frowned, ran his fingers through his white mane. He looked up and spoke somewhat ponderously: "I will instruct you in Wankh communication at no charge. The Wankh are a peculiar folk, totally unique.
Their brain works in pulses. They see in pulses and think in pulses. Their speech comes in a pulse, a chime of many vibrations which carries all the meaning of a sentence. Each ideogram is equivalent to a chime, which is to say, a whole unit of meaning. For this reason, to read Wankh is as much a matter of divination as logic; one must enunciate an entire meaning with each ideogram.
Even the Wankhmen are not always accurate. Now this matter you have here-let me see. This first chimehm. Notice this comb? It usually signifies an equivalence, an identity. A square of this texture shading off to the right sometimes means
'truth' or 'verified perception' or 'situation' or perhaps 'present condition of the cosmos.' These marks-I don't know. This bit of shading-I think it's a person talking. Since it's at the bottom, the base tone in the chord, it would seem that-yes, this trifle here indicates positive volition. These marks--hm. Yes, these are organizers, which specify the order and emphasis of the other elements. I can't understand them; I can only guess at the total sense.
Something like 'I wish to report that conditions are identical or unchanged' or
'A person is anxious to specify that the cosmos is stable.' Something of the sort. Are you sure that this is information regarding treasure?"
"It was sold to us on this basis."
"Hm." Zarfo pulled at his long black nose. "Let me see. This second symboclass="underline" notice this shading and this bit of an angle? One is 'vision'; the other is
'negation.' I can't read the organizers, but it might mean 'blindness' or
'invisibility...' "
Zarfo continued his lucubrations, poring over each ideogram, occasionally tracing out a fragment of meaning, more often confessing failure, and becoming ever more restive. "You have been gulled," he said at last. "I'm certain there is no mention of money or treasure. I believe this is no more than a commercial report. It seems to say, as close as I can fathom: 'I wish to state that conditions are the same.' Something about peculiar wishes, or hopes, or volitions. 'I will presently see the dominant man, the leader of our group.'