Wyst: Alastor 1716 Read Free Page A

close beside the
fourth Whisper, a round-faced woman with a pale, rather coarse, complexion and
a square assertive jaw.
    Esclavade entered the room. “The Connatic will give you his
attention shortly. He suggests that meanwhile you might care to take
refreshment” He waved toward the back wall; a buffet slid into the parlor. “Please
serve yourselves; you will find that we have taken your preferences into
account.” Only the Connatic noticed the twitch at the corner of Esclavade’s
mouth.
    Esclavade departed the parlor. The crooked old Whisper at
once jumped to his feet. “Let’s see what we have here.” He sidled toward the
buffet. “Eh? Eh? What’s this? Gruff and deedle! Can the Connatic afford a
trifle of banter for our poor deprived jaws?”
    The woman said in an even voice: “Surely he thinks it only
courteous to serve familiar victuals to his guests.”
    The handsome man uttered a sardonic laugh. “The Connatic is
hardly of egalistic persuasion. By definition he is the elite of the elite.
There may be a message here?’
    The massive man went to the buffet and took a cake of gruff.
“I eat it at home; I shall eat it here, and give the matter no thought.”
    The crooked man poured a cup of the viscous white liquid; be
tasted, and made a wry grimace. “The deedle isn’t all that good.”
    Smiling, the Connatic went to sit in a heavy wooden chair.
He touched a button and his image appeared in the Black Parlor. The Whispers
jerked around. The two men at the buffet slowly put down their food; the handsome
man started to rise, then changed his mind and remained in his place.
    Esclavade entered the Black , Parlor and addressed the image.
    “Sir, these are the Whispers of Arrabus Nation on Wyst. From
Waunisse, the lady Fausgard.” Then he indicated the massive man. “From
Uncibal, the gentleman Orgold.” The handsome man: “From Serce, the gentleman Lemiste.”
The crooked man: “From Propunce, the gentleman Delfin.”
    The Connatic said: “I welcome you to Lusz. You will notice that
I appear before you in projection; this is my invariable precaution, and many
uncertainties are circumvented.”
    Fausgard said somewhat tartly, “As a monomarch, and the
elite of the elite, I suppose you go in constant fear of assassination.”
    “It is a very real risk. I see hundreds of folk, of every
condition. Some, inevitably, prove to be madmen who fancy me a cruel and
luxurious tyrant. I use an entire battery of techniques to avoid their
murderous, if well-meant, assaults?’
    Fausgard gave her head a stubborn shake. The Connatic
thought Here is a woman of rock-hard conviction. Fausgard said: “Still, as
absolute master of several trillion persons, you must recognize that yours is a
position of unnatural privilege.”
    The Connatic thought: She is also of a somewhat contentious
disposition. Aloud he said, “Naturally! The knowledge is never far from my
mind, and is balanced, or neutralized, only by the fact of its total irrelevance.”
    “I fear that you leave me behind.”
    “The idea is complex, yet simple. I am I, who by
reason of events beyond my control am Connatic. If I were someone else, I would
not be Connatic; this is indisputable. The corollary is also clear: there would
be a Connatic who was not I. He, like I, would ponder the singularity of his
condition. So, you see, I as Connatic discover no more marvelous privilege to
my life than you in your condition as Fausgard the Whisper.”
    Fausgard laughed uncertainly. She started to reply only to
be preceded by the suave Lemiste. “Sir, we are here not to analyze your person,
or your status, or the chances of fate. In fact, as pragmatic egalists, we deny
the existence of Fate, as a supernormal or ineffable entity. Our mission is more
specific.’
    “I shall be interested to hear it.”
    “Arrabus has existed one hundred years as an egalistic nation.
We are unique in the Cluster, perhaps across the Gaean universe. In a short
time, at our Centenary