"Well, then," asked Anacho. "What of tomorrow?"
"My plans remain the same," said Reith. "I intend to return to Earth. Somewhere, somehow, I must gain possession of a spaceship. This program is meaningless for you two; you should go where you feel secure: the Isles of Cloud, or perhaps back to Smargash. Wherever you decide, we will go; then perhaps you will allow me to continue in the sky-car."
Anacho's long harlequin face assumed an expression almost prim. "And where will you take yourself?"
"You mentioned the spaceyards at Sivishe; this will be my destination."
"What of money? You will need a great deal, as well as subtlety and, most of all, luck."
"For money there is always the Carabas."
Anacho nodded. "Every desperado of Tschai will tell you the same. But wealth does not come without extreme risk. The Carabas lies within the Dirdir Hunting Preserve; trespassers are fair game. If you evade the Dirdir, there is Buszli the Bandit, the Blue Band, the vampire women, the gamblers, the hook-men. For every man who gains a handful of sequins, another three leave their bones, or fill Dirdir guts."
Reith gave an uneasy grimace. "I'll have to take my chances."
The three sat looking into the fire. Traz stirred. "Once long ago I wore Onmale and never am I entirely free of the weight. Sometimes I feel it calling from under the soil. In the beginning it ordained life for Adam Reith; now, even if I wished, I would not desert Adam Reith for fear of Onmale."
"I am a fugitive," said Anacho. "I have no life of my own. We have destroyed the first Initiative,* but sooner or later there will be a second Initiative. The Dirdir are pertinacious. Do you know where we might find the most security? At Sivishe, close under the Dirdir city Hei. As for the Carabas ..." Anacho gave a doleful sigh. "Adam Reith seems to have a knack for survival. I have nothing better to do. I will take my chances."
"I'll say no more," said Reith. "I'm grateful for your company."
For a space the three looked into the flames. Outside the wind whistled and blustered. "Our destination, then, is the Carabas," said Reith. "Why should not the sky-car give us an advantage?"
Anacho fluttered his fingers. "Not in the Black Zone. The Dirdir would take note and instantly be upon us."
"There must be tactics of some sort to lessen the danger," said Reith.
Anacho gave a grim chuckle. "Everyone who visits the Zone has his private theories. Some enter by night; others wear camouflage and puff boots to muffle their tracks. Some organize brigades and march as a unit; others feel more secure alone. Some enter from Zimle; others come down from Maust. The eventualities are usually the same."
Reith rubbed his chin reflectively. "Do Dirdirmen join the hunt?"
Anacho smiled into the flames. "The Immaculates have been known to hunt. But your concept has no value. Neither you nor Traz nor I could successfully impersonate an Immaculate."
The fire became coals; the three went to their tall dim chambers and slept on hard couches under linens smelling of the sea. In the morning they ate a breakfast of salt biscuit and tea, then settled their tariff and departed the inn.
The day was dreary. Cold tendrils of fog sifted through the chymax trees. The three boarded the sky-car. Up they rose through the overcast, and finally broke out into the wan amber sunlight. Westward they flew, over the Draschade Ocean.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE GRAY DRASCHADE rolled below: the ocean which Reith-it seemed an eon ago-had crossed aboard the cog Vargaz. Anacho flew close above the surface, to minimize the risk of detection by Dirdir search-screens. "We have important decisions to make," he announced. "The Dirdir are hunters; we have become prey. In principle, a hunt once initiated must be consummated, but the Dirdir are not a cohesive folk like the Wankh; their programs result from individual initiatives, the so called zhna-dih. This means a great dashing leap, trailing lightning-like sparks. The zeal expended upon finding us depends upon whether the hunt-chief--he who performed the original zhna-dih-was aboard the skycar and is now dead. If so, there is a considerable diminution of risk, unless another Dirdir wishes to assert h'so-a word meaning 'marvelous dominance'-and organizes another tsau'gsh, whereupon conditions are as before. If the hunt-chief is alive, he becomes our mortal enemy."
Reith asked in wonder, "What was he before?"
Anacho ignored the remark. "The hunt-chief has the force of the community at his disposal, though he asserts his h'so more emphatically by zhna-dih. However, if he suspects that we fly the sky-car, he might well order up search-screens."
Anacho offhandedly indicated a disk of gray glass to the side of the instrument panel. "If we touch a search-screen you'll see a mesh of orange lines."
The hours went by. Anacho somewhat condescendingly explained the operation of the sky-car; both Traz and Reith familiarized themselves with the controls.
Carina 4269 swung across the sky, overtaking the skycar and dropping into the west. The Draschade rolled below, an enigmatic gray-brown waste, blurring and merging into the sky.
Anacho began to talk of the Carabas: "Most sequin-takers enter at Maust, fifty miles south of the First Sea. At Maust are the most complete outfitters' shops, the finest charts and handbooks, and other services. I consider it as good a destination as any."
"Where are the nodes usually found?"
"Anywhere within the Carabas. There is no rule, no system of discovery. Where many folk seek, nodes are naturally few."
"Then why not choose a less popular entry?"
"Maust is popular because it is most convenient."
Reith looked ahead toward the yet unseen coast of Kislovan and the unknown future. "What if we use none of these entries, but some point in between?"
"What is there to gain? The Zone is the same from any direction."
"There must be some way to minimize risks and maximize gains."
Anacho shook his head in disparagement. "You are a strange and obstinate man!
Isn't this attitude a form of arrogance?"
"No," said Reith. "I don't think so."
"How," argued Anacho, "should you succeed with such facility where others have failed?"
Reith grinned. "It's not arrogant to wonder why they failed."
"One of the Dirdir virtues is zs'hanh," said Anacho. "It means 'contemptuous indifference to the activity of others.' There are twenty-eight castes of Dirdir, which I will not enumerate, and four castes of Dirdirmen: the Immaculates, the Intensives, the Estranes, the Cluts. Zs'hanh is reckoned an attribute of the fourth through the thirteenth Dirdir grades. The Immaculates also practice zs'hanh. It is a noble doctrine."
Reith shook his head in wonder. "How have the Dirdir managed to create and coordinate a technical civilization? In such a welter of conflicting wills-"
"You misunderstand," said Anacho in his most nasal voice. "The situation is more complex. To rise in caste a Dirdir must be accepted into the next highest group.
He wins acceptance by his achievements, not by causing conflicts. Zs'hanh is not always appropriate to the lower castes, nor for the very highest, which use the doctrine of pn'hanh: 'corrosive or metal-bursting sagacity.' "
"I must belong in a high caste," said Reith. "I intend to use pn'hanh rather than zs'hanh. I want to exploit every possible advantage and avoid every risk."
Reith, looking sidewise at the long sour face, chuckled to himself. He wants to point out that my caste is too low for such affectations, thought Reith, but he knows that I'll laugh at him.
The sun sank with unnatural deliberation, its rate of decline slowed by the westward progress of the sky-car. Toward the end of the afternoon a gray-violet bulk rose above the horizon, to meet the disc of the pale brown sun. This was the island, Leume, close under the continent of Kislovan.