by Hagedorn met in the formal council chamber to consider the matter. They sat around a great table covered with red velvet: Hagedorn at the head; Xanten and Isseth at his left; Overwhele, Aure and Beaudry at his right; then the others, including 0. Z. Garr, 1. K. Linus, A. G. Bernal, a mathematical theoretician of great ability, B. F. Wyas, an equally sagacious antiquarian who had identified the sites of many ancient cities: Palmyra, Lubeck, Eridu, Zanesville, Burton-on-Trent, Massilia among others. Certain family elders filled out the council: Marune and Baudune of Aure; Quay, Roseth and Idelsea of Xanten; Uegus of Isseth, Claghorn of Overwhele.
All sat silent for a period of ten minutes, arranging their minds and performing the silent act of psychic accommodation known as ‘intression’.
At last Hagedorn spoke. “The castle suddenly is bereft of ; fits Meks. Needless to say, this is an inconvenient condition to be adjusted as swiftly as possible. Here, I am sure, we find ourselves of one mind.”
He looked around the table. All thrust forward ivory tablets to signify assent—all save Claghorn, who however did not stand it on end to signify dissent.
Isseth, a stern white-haired gentleman magnificently handsome in spite of his seventy years, spoke in a grim voice, “I see no point in cogitation or delay. What we must do is clear. Admittedly the Peasants are poor material from which to recruit an armed force. Nonetheless, we must assemble them, equip them with sandals, smocks and weapons so that they do not discredit us, and put them under good leadership: 0. Z. Garr or Xanten. Birds can locate the vagrants, whereupon we will track them down, order the Peasants to give them a good drubbing and herd them home on the double.”
Xanten, thirty-five years old, extraordinarily young to be a clan chief, and a notorious firebrand, shook his head. “The idea is appealing but impractical. Peasants simply could not stand up to the Meks; no matter how we trained them.”
The statement was manifestly accurate. The Peasants, small andromorphs originally of Spica Ten, were not so much timid as incapable of performing a vicious act.
A dour silence held the table. 0. Z. Garr finally spoke. “The dogs have stolen our power-wagons, otherwise I’d be tempted to ride out and chivvy the rascals home with a whip.”*
----
*This is only an approximate translation and fails to capture the pungency of the language. Several words have no contemporary equivalents. ‘Skirkling’, as in ‘to send skirkling’, denotes a frantic pell-mell flight in all directions accompanied by a vibration or twinkling or a jerking motion. To ‘volith’ is to toy idly with a matter, the implication being that the person involved is of such Jovian potency that all difficulties dwindle to contemptible triviality. ‘Raudelbogs’ are the semi-intelligent beings of Etamin Four, who were brought to Earth, trained first as gardeners, then construction laborers, then sent home in disgrace because of certain repulsive habits they refused to forgo.
The statement of 0. Z. Garr, therefore, becomes something like this: “Were power-wagons at hand. I’d volith riding forth with a whip to send the raudelbogs skirkling home.”
----
“A matter of perplexity,” said Hagedorn, “is syrup. Naturally they carried away what they could. When this is exhausted—what then? Will they starve? Impossible for them to return to their original diet—what was it, swamp mud? Eh, Claghorn, you’re the expert in these matters. Can the Meks return to a diet of mud?”
“No,” said Claghorn. “The organs of the adult are atrophied. If a cub were started on the diet, he’d probably survive.”
“Just as I assumed.” Hagedorn scowled portentously down at his clasped hands to conceal his total lack of any constructive proposal.
A gentleman in the dark blue of the Beaudrys appeared in the doorway: he poised himself, head high his right arm, bowed.
Hagedorn rose to his
All sat silent for a period of ten minutes, arranging their minds and performing the silent act of psychic accommodation known as ‘intression’.
At last Hagedorn spoke. “The castle suddenly is bereft of ; fits Meks. Needless to say, this is an inconvenient condition to be adjusted as swiftly as possible. Here, I am sure, we find ourselves of one mind.”
He looked around the table. All thrust forward ivory tablets to signify assent—all save Claghorn, who however did not stand it on end to signify dissent.
Isseth, a stern white-haired gentleman magnificently handsome in spite of his seventy years, spoke in a grim voice, “I see no point in cogitation or delay. What we must do is clear. Admittedly the Peasants are poor material from which to recruit an armed force. Nonetheless, we must assemble them, equip them with sandals, smocks and weapons so that they do not discredit us, and put them under good leadership: 0. Z. Garr or Xanten. Birds can locate the vagrants, whereupon we will track them down, order the Peasants to give them a good drubbing and herd them home on the double.”
Xanten, thirty-five years old, extraordinarily young to be a clan chief, and a notorious firebrand, shook his head. “The idea is appealing but impractical. Peasants simply could not stand up to the Meks; no matter how we trained them.”
The statement was manifestly accurate. The Peasants, small andromorphs originally of Spica Ten, were not so much timid as incapable of performing a vicious act.
A dour silence held the table. 0. Z. Garr finally spoke. “The dogs have stolen our power-wagons, otherwise I’d be tempted to ride out and chivvy the rascals home with a whip.”*
----
*This is only an approximate translation and fails to capture the pungency of the language. Several words have no contemporary equivalents. ‘Skirkling’, as in ‘to send skirkling’, denotes a frantic pell-mell flight in all directions accompanied by a vibration or twinkling or a jerking motion. To ‘volith’ is to toy idly with a matter, the implication being that the person involved is of such Jovian potency that all difficulties dwindle to contemptible triviality. ‘Raudelbogs’ are the semi-intelligent beings of Etamin Four, who were brought to Earth, trained first as gardeners, then construction laborers, then sent home in disgrace because of certain repulsive habits they refused to forgo.
The statement of 0. Z. Garr, therefore, becomes something like this: “Were power-wagons at hand. I’d volith riding forth with a whip to send the raudelbogs skirkling home.”
----
“A matter of perplexity,” said Hagedorn, “is syrup. Naturally they carried away what they could. When this is exhausted—what then? Will they starve? Impossible for them to return to their original diet—what was it, swamp mud? Eh, Claghorn, you’re the expert in these matters. Can the Meks return to a diet of mud?”
“No,” said Claghorn. “The organs of the adult are atrophied. If a cub were started on the diet, he’d probably survive.”
“Just as I assumed.” Hagedorn scowled portentously down at his clasped hands to conceal his total lack of any constructive proposal.
A gentleman in the dark blue of the Beaudrys appeared in the doorway: he poised himself, head high his right arm, bowed.
Hagedorn rose to his
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