Vance, Jack - The Languages of Pao

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2024-12-14 0 0 314.33KB 126 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

Shraimand, Vidamand, Minamand, Nonamand, Dronamand, Hivand and

Impland, after the eight digits of the Paonese numerative system. Aimand,

largest of the continents, has four times the area of Nonamand, the least.

Only Nonamand, in the high southern latitudes, suffers an unpleasant

climate.

An accurate census of Pao has never been made, but the great mass of

the population--estimated at fifteen billion persons--lives in country

villages.

The Paonese are a homogeneous people, of medium stature, fair-skinned

with hair-color ranging from tawny-brown to brown-black, with no great

variations of feature or physique.

Paonese history previous to the reign of Panarch Aiello Panasper is

uneventful. The first settlers, finding the planet hospitable, multiplied to an

unprecedented density of population. Their system of life minimized social

friction; there were no large wars, no plagues, no disasters except recurrent

famine, which was endured with fortitude. A simple uncomplicated people

were the Paonese, without religion or cult. They demanded small material

rewards from life, but gave a correspondingly large importance to shifts of

caste and status. They knew no competitive sports, but enjoyed gathering in

enormous clots of ten or twenty million persons to chant the ancient drones.

The typical Paonese farmed a small acreage, augmenting his income with a

home craft or special trade. He showed small interest in politics; his

hereditary ruler, the Panarch, exercised an absolute personal rule which

reached out, through a vast civil service, into the most remote village. The

word "career" in Paonese was synonymous to employment with the civil

service. And, in general, the governmental was sufficiently efficient.

The language of Pao was derived from Waydalic, but molded into

peculiar forms. The Paonese sentence did not so much describe an act as it

presented a picture of a situation. There were no verbs, no adjectives; no

formal word comparison such as good, better, best. The typical Paonese

of all, he must never seem indecisive or uncertain. To do so would break

the archetype.

well-fleshed. His silver-gray hair shone fine as a baby s; he had a baby s

clear skin and wide unwinking stare. His mouth drooped, his eyebrows

arched high, conveying a perpetual sense of sardonic and skeptical inquiry.

To the right sat his brother Bustamonte, bearing the title Ayudor--a

smaller man, with a shock of coarse dark hair, quick black eyes, knobs of

muscles in his cheeks. Bustamonte was energetic beyond the usual Paonese

norm. He had toured two or three nearby worlds, returning with a number

of alien enthusiasms which had gained him the dislike and distrust of the

Paonese population.

On Aiello's other side sat his son, Beran Panasper, the Medallion. He

was a thin child, hesitant and diffident, with fragile features and long black

hair, resembling Aiello only in his clear skin and wide eyes.

Across the table sat a score of other men: functionaries of the

government, petitioners, three commercial representatives from Mercantil,

and a hawk-faced man in brown and gray who spoke to no one.

Aiello was attended by special maids wearing long gowns striped with

black and gold. Each dish served him was first tasted by Bustamonte--a

custom residual from times when assassination was the rule rather than the

exception. Another manifestation of this ancient caution could be found in

the three Mamarone standing vigilant behind Aiello. These were enormous

creatures tattoed dead-black--neutraloids. They wore magnificent turbans

of cerise and green, tight pantaloons of the same colors, chest emblems of

white silk and silver, and carried shields of refrax to be locked in front of

the Panarch in the event of danger.

Aiello morosely nibbled his way through the meal and finally indicated

that he was ready to conduct the business of the day.

Vilnis Therobon, wearing the ocher and purple of Public Welfare, arose

and came to stand before the Panarch. He stated his problem: the cereal

farmers of the South Impland savannahs were beset by drought; he,

Therobon, wished to bring water from across the Central Impland

Nonamand, the bleak southern continent. In addition, all infants arriving to

parents with more than two children should be subaqueated. These were the

classical methods of population control; they would be accepted without

resentment.

Young Beran watched with fascination, awed by the vastness of his

father's power. He was seldom allowed to witness state business, for Aiello

disliked children and showed only small concern for the upbringing of his

son. Recently the Ayudor Bustamonte had interested himself in Beran,

talking for hours on end, until Beran's head grew heavy and his eyes

drooped. They played odd games which bewildered Beran and left with

him a peculiar uneasiness. And of late there had been blank spaces in his

mind, lapses of memory.

As Beran sat now at the ivory table in the pavilion, he held a small

unfamiliar object in his hand. He could not recall where he had found it, but

it seemed as if there were something he must do. He looked at his father,

and felt a sudden hot panic. Bustamonte was looking at him, frowning.

Beran felt awkward and pulled himself erect in his chair. He must watch

and listen, as Bustamonte had instructed him. Furtively, he inspected the

object he held in his hand. It was at once familiar and strange. As if in

recollection from a dream, he knew he had use for his object--and again

came the wave of panic.

He tasted a bit of toasted fish-tail, but as usual lacked appetite. He felt

the brush of eyes; someone was watching him. Turning his head, he met the

gaze of the stranger in brown and gray. The man had an arresting face, long

and thin with a high forehead, a wisp of mustache, a nose like the prow of a

ship. His hair was glossy black, thick and short as fur. His eyes were set

deep; his gaze, dark and magnetic, awoke all of Beran's uneasiness. The

object in his hand felt heavy and hot. He wanted to fling it down, but could

not.

The last man to be heard was Sigil Paniche, business representative

whispered more urgently; Aiello turned him a slow caustic side-glance.

Bustamonte sat back sullenly.

At a signal from Aiello, the captain of the Mamarone guard addressed

the table in his soft scraped-steel voice. "By the Panarch's order, all those

who have completed their business will depart."

Across the table, only Sigil Paniche, his two aides, and the stranger in

brown and gray remained.

The Mercantile moved to a chair opposite Aiello; he bowed, seated

himself, his aides coming to stand at his back.

Panarch Aiello spoke an off-hand greeting; the Mercantile responded in

broken Paonese.

Aiello toyed with a bowl of brandied fruit, appraising the Mercantil.

"Pao and Mercantil have traded for many centuries, Sigil Paniche."

The Mercantil bowed. "We fulfill the exact letter of our contracts--this

is our creed."

Aiello laughed shortly. "Trade with Pao has enriched you."

"We trade with twenty-eight worlds, Supremacy."

Aiello leaned back in his chair. "There are two matters I wish to discuss

with you. You have just heard our need for water on Impland. We require

an installation to demineralize an appropriate quantity of ocean-water. You

may refer this matter to your engineers.

"I am at your orders, sir."*

*--------------------*

The Paonese and Mercantil languages were as disparate as the two ways

of living. The Panarch, making the statement, "There are two matters I wish

to discuss with you," used words which, accurately rendered, would read:

"Statement-of-importance (a single word in Paonese)--in a state of

readiness--two; ear--of Mercantil--in a state of readiness; mouth--of this

person here--in a state of volition." The italicized words represent suffixes

of condition.

equipment.

Sigil Paniche bowed agreement. With no outward sign or change, he

suddenly seemed uneasy. "We fulfilled the exact requirements of your

order."

"I cannot agree with you," Aiello responded.

Sigil Paniche became stiff; his words were even more formal than

before, "I assure Your Supremacy that I personally checked delivery. The

equipment was exactly as described in order and invoice."

Aiello went on in his coldest tones. "You delivered sixty-four* barrage

monitors, 512 patrol flitters, a large number of multiple resonators,

energetics, wasps and hand-weapons. These accord with the original order."

"Exactly, sir."

"However, you knew the purpose behind this order."

Sigil Paniche bowed his copper-bright head. "You refer to conditions on

the planet Batmarsh."

"Just so. The Dolberg dynasty has been eliminated. A new dynasty, the

Brumbos, have assumed power. New Batch rulers customarily undertake

military ventures."

"Such is the tradition," agreed the Mercantil.

"You have supplied these adventurers with armament"

Sigil Paniche once again agreed. "We sell to any who will buy. We have

done so for many years--you must not reproach us for this."

Aiello raised his eyebrows. "I do not do so. I reproach you for selling us

standard models while offering the Brumbo Clan equipment against which

you guarantee we will be powerless."

Sigil Paniche blinked. "What is the source of your information?"

"Must I divest myself of every secret?"

*--------------------*

*The Paonese number system is based on the number 8. Hence, a

Paonese 100 is 64, 1000 is 512, etc.

the Mercantil. His voice was cool, his words carefully measured. For the

reasons I have stated, I declare that the Mercantil contract has not been

fulfilled. The merchandise will not perform its function. We will not pay."

Sigil Paniche affirmed, The delivered articles meet the contractual

specifications!" By his lights nothing more need be said.

"But they are useless to our need, a fact known on Mercantil."

Sigil Paniche's eyes gleamed. "No doubt Your Supremacy has

considered the long-range effects of such a decision."

Bustamonte could not restrain a retort. "Better had the Mercantil

consider the long-range effect of double-dealing."

Aiello made a small gesture of annoyance, and Bustamonte sat back.

Sigil Paniche looked over his shoulder to his two subordinates; they

exchanged emphatic whispers. Then Paniche asked, "May I inquire as to

what 'long-range effects' the Ayudor alluded?"

Aiello nodded. "I direct your attention to the gentleman at your left

hand."

All eyes swung to the stranger in brown and gray. "Who is this man?"

Sigil Paniche asked sharply. "I do not recognize his clothes."

Aiello was served a bowl of green syrup by one of the black and gold-

clad maidens. Bustamonte dutifully sampled a spoonful. Aiello drew the

bowl close to him, sipped. "This is Lord Palafox. He is here to offer us

advice." He sipped once more from the bowl, pushed it aside. The maiden

quickly removed it.

Sigil Paniche surveyed the stranger with cold hostility. His aides

muttered to each other. Bustamonte sat slumped into his seat.

"After all," said Aiello, "if we can not rely upon Mercantil for

protection, we must seek elsewhere."

Sigil Paniche once more turned to whisper with his counselors. There

was a hushed argument; Paniche snapped his fingers in emphasis, the

counselors bowed and became silent. Paniche turned back to Aiello. "Your

Aiello with their refrax shields; Sigil Paniche grimaced painfully. No need

for alarm--there is no danger here."

He displayed the hemispheres to Aiello, then placed them over his eyes.

"Our new optidynes! They function either as microscope or telescope! The

enormous range of their power is controlled by the ocular muscles and the

eyelids. Truly marvelous! For instance"--he turned, looked out the window

of the pavilion--I see quartz crystals in the stones of the sea-wall. A gray

chit stands under that far funella bush." He turned his gaze to his sleeve. "I

see the threads, the fibers of the threads, the laminae of the fibers."

He looked at Bustamonte. "I note the pores of the Ayudor's estimable

nose. I observe several hairs in his nostril." He glanced at the Medallion,

carefully avoiding the solecism of staring at Aiello. "The brave lad is

excited. I count his pulse; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,

eleven, twelve, thirteen...He holds a tiny object between his fingers, no

larger than a pill." He turned, inspected the man in gray. "I see..." he stared;

then with a sudden gesture, removed the optidynes from his eyes.

"What did you see?" Bustamonte inquired.

Sigil Paniche studied the tall man in perturbation and awe. "I saw his

sign. The tattoo of a Breakness wizard!"

The words seemed to arouse Bustamonte. He glared in accusation at

Aiello, gave Palafox a look of loathing, then glowered down at the carved

ivory of the table.

You are correct," said Aiello. "This is Lord Palafox, Dominie of

Breakness Institute."

Sigil Paniche bowed his head frigidly. "Will Your Supremacy allow me

a question?"

"Ask what you will."

"What does Lord Palafox do here on Pao?"

Aiello said blandly, "He came at my behest. I need expert advice.

Certain of my confidants"--he glanced rather contemptuously toward

Sigil Paniche made a great effort. I urge you to reconsider. In no way

have we cheated you. We delivered exactly what was ordered. Mercantil

has served you well in the past--we hope to serve you in the future. If you

deal with Breakness, think what the bargain entails!"

"I have made no bargains with Lord Palafox," said Aiello, with a swift

glance toward the man in brown and gray.

"Ah, but you will--and, if I may speak openly..." He waited.

"Speak," said Aiello.

"...to your eventual dismay." He became emboldened. "Never forget,

Supremacy, that they build no weapons on Breakness. They make no

application of their science." He looked to Palafox. "Is this not true?"

"Not altogether," replied Palafox. "A Dominie of the Institute is never

without his weapons."

"And Breakness manufactures weapons for export?" Paniche persisted.

"No," answered Palafox with a slight smile. "It is well known that we

manufacture only knowledge and men."

Sigil Paniche turned to Aiello. "Only weapons can guard you against the

fury of the Brumbos. Why not examine, at least, some of our new

products?"

"This can do no harm," Bustamonte urged. "And perhaps we will not

require Palafox after all."

Aiello turned him a peevish glance, but Sigil Paniche already was

displaying a globe-shaped projector with a hand grip. "This is one of our

most ingenious developments."

The Medallion Beran, watching in absorption, felt a sudden quiver, a

pang of indescribable alarm. Why? How? What? He must leave the

pavilion, he must go! But he could not move from his seat.

Paniche was directing his tool toward the pink marble dome. "Observe,

if you will." The top half of the room went black, as if concealed by a black

shutter, as if snatched from existence. "The device seeks out, attracts and

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摘要：

Shraimand,Vidamand,Minamand,Nonamand,Dronamand,HivandandImpland,aftertheeightdigitsofthePaonesenumerativesystem.Aimand,largestofthecontinents,hasfourtimestheareaofNonamand,theleast.OnlyNonamand,inthehighsouthernlatitudes,suffersanunpleasantclimate.AnaccuratecensusofPaohasneverbeenmade,butthegreatmas...

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Vance, Jack - The Languages of Pao

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