Onum Barr was an old man, too old to be afraid. Since the lastdisturbances, he had lived alone on the fringes of the land with what bookshe had saved from the ruins. He had nothing he feared losing, least of allthe worn remnant of his life, and so he faced the intruder withoutcringing.
"Your door was open," the stranger explained.
His accent was clipped and harsh, and Barr did not fail to notice thestrange blue-steel hand-weapon at his hip. In the half gloom of the smallroom, Barr saw the glow of a force-shield surrounding the man.
He said, wearily, "There is no reason to keep it closed. Do you wishanything of me?""Yes." The stranger remained standing in the center of the room. He waslarge, both in height and bulk. "Yours is the only house about here.""It is a desolate place," agreed Barr, "but there is a town to the east. Ican show you the way'.""In a while. May I sit?""If the chairs will hold you," said the old man, gravely. They were old,too. Relics of a better youth.
The stranger said, "My name is Hober Mallow. I come from a far province."Barr nodded and smiled, "Your tongue convicted you of that long ago. I amOnum Barr of Siwenna ? and once Patrician of the Empire.""Then this is Siwenna. I had only old maps to guide me.""They would have to be old, indeed, for star-positions to be misplaced."Barr sat quite still, while the other's eyes drifted away into a reverie.
He noticed that the nuclear force-shield had vanished from about the manand admitted dryly to himself that his person no longer seemed formidableto strangers ? or even, for good or for evil, to his enemies.
He said, "My house is poor and my resources few. You may share what I haveif your stomach can endure black bread and dried corn."Mallow shook his head, "No, I have eaten, and I can't stay. All I need arethe directions to the center of government.""That is easily enough done, and poor though I am, deprives me of nothing.
Do you mean the capital of the planet, or of the Imperial Sector?"The younger man's eyes narrowed, "Aren't the two identical? Isn't thisSiwenna?"The old patrician nodded slowly, "Siwenna, yes. But Siwenna is no longercapital of the Normannic Sector. Your old map has misled you after all. Thestars may not change even in centuries, but political boundaries are alltoo fluid.""That's too bad. In fact, that's very bad. Is the new capital far off?""It's on Orsha II. Twenty parsecs off. Your map will direct you. How old isit?""A hundred and fifty years.""That old?" The old man sighed. "History has been crowded since. Do youknow any of it?"Mallow shook his bead slowly.
Barr said, "You're fortunate. It has been an evil time for the provinces,but for the reign of Stannell VI, and he died fifty years ago. Since thattime, rebellion and ruin, ruin and rebellion." Barr wondered if he weregrowing garrulous. It was a lonely life out here, and he had so littlechance to talk to men.
Mallow said with sudden sharpness, "Ruin, eh? You sound as if the provincewere impoverished.""Perhaps not on an absolute scale. The physical resources of twenty-fivefirst-rank planets take a long time to use up. Compared to the wealth ofthe last century, though, we have gone a long way downhill ?and there isno sign of turning, not yet. Why are you so interested in all this, youngman? You are all alive and your eyes shine!"The trader came near enough to blushing, as the faded eyes seemed to looktoo deep into his and smile at what they saw.
He said, "Now look here. I'm a trader out there ?out toward the rim of theGalaxy. I've located some old maps, and I'm out to open new markets.
Naturally, talk of impoverished provinces disturbs me. You can't get moneyout of a world unless money's there to be got. Now how's Siwenna, forinstance?"The old man leaned forward, "I cannot say. It will do even yet, perhaps.
But you a trader? You look more like a fighting man. You hold your handnear your gun and there is a scar on your jawbone."Mallow jerked his head, "There isn't much law out there where I come from.
Fighting and scars are part of a trader's overhead. But fighting is onlyuseful when there's money at the end, and if I can get it without, so muchthe sweeter. Now will I find enough money here to make it worth thefighting? I take it I can find the fighting easily enough.""Easily enough," agreed Barr. "You could join Wiscard's remnants in the RedStars. I don't know, though, if you'd call that fighting or piracy. Or youcould join our present gracious viceroy ? gracious by right of murder,pillage, rapine, and the word of a boy Emperor, since rightfullyassassinated." The patrician's thin cheeks reddened. His eyes closed andthen opened, bird-bright.
"You don't sound very friendly to the viceroy, Patrician Barr," saidMallow. "What if I'm one of his spies?""What if you are?" said Barr, bitterly. "What can you take?" He gestured awithered arm at the bare interior of the decaying mansion.
"Your life.""It would leave me easily enough. It has been with me five years too long.
But you are not one of the viceroy's men. If you were, perhaps even nowinstinctive self-preservation would keep my mouth closed.""How do you know?"The old man laughed, "You seem suspicious ?Come, I'll wager you think I'mtrying to trap you into denouncing the government. No, no. I am pastpolitics.""Past politics? Is a man ever past that? The words you used to describe theviceroy ?what were they? Murder, pillage, all that. You didn't soundobjective. Not exactly. Not as if you were past politics."The old man shrugged, "Memories sting when they come suddenly. Listen!
Judge for yourself! When Siwenna was the provincial capital, I was apatrician and a member of the provincial senate. My family was an old andhonored one. One of my great-grandfathers had been?No, never mind that.
Past glories are poor feeding.""I take it," said Mallow, "there was a civil war, or a revolution."Barr's face darkened. "Civil wars are chronic in these degenerate days, butSiwenna had kept apart. Under Stannell VI, it had almost achieved itsancient prosperity. But weak emperors followed, and weak emperors meanstrong viceroys, and our last viceroy ?the same Wiscard, whose remnantsstill prey on the commerce among the Red Stars ?aimed at the ImperialPurple. He wasn't the first to aim. And if he had succeeded, he wouldn'thave been the first to succeed.
"But he failed. For when the Emperor's Admiral approached the province atthe head of a fleet, Siwenna itself rebelled against its rebel viceroy." Hestopped, sadly.
Mallow found himself tense on the edge of his seat, and relaxed slowly,"Please continue, sir.""Thank you," said Barr, wearily. "It's kind of you to humor an old man.
"Well, came the grim retort, "that didn't suit the admiral. He wanted theglory of conquering a rebellious province and his men wanted the loot suchconquest would involve. So while the people were still gathered in everylarge city, cheering the Emperor and his admiral, he occupied all armedcenters, and then ordered the population put to the nuclear blast.""On what pretext?""On the pretext that they had rebelled against their viceroy, the Emperor'sanointed. And the admiral became the new viceroy, by virtue of one month ofmassacre, pillage and complete horror. I had six sons. Five died ?
variously. I had a daughter. I hope she died, eventually. I escaped becauseI was old. I came here, too old to cause even our viceroy worry." He benthis gray head, "They left me nothing, because I had helped drive out arebellious governor and deprived an admiral of his glory."Mallow sat silent, and waited. Then, "What of your sixth son?" he askedsoftly.
"We laughed. I laughed, too. I forgot it till today. But you glow in thedarkness, and I don't think my blaster, if I had one, would hurt you. Tellme, can you fly through air as you sit there now?"Mallow said calmly, "I can make nothing of all this."Barr smiled, "I'm content with the answer. I do not examine my guests. Butif there are magicians; if you are one of them; there may some day be agreat influx of them, or you. Perhaps that would be well. Maybe we need newblood." He muttered soundlessly to himself, then, slowly, "But it works theother way, too. Our new viceroy also dreams, as did our old Wiscard.""Also after the Emperor's crown?"Barr nodded, "My son hears tales. In the viceroy's personal entourage, onecould scarcely help it. And he tells me of them. Our new viceroy would notrefuse the Crown if offered, but he guards his line of retreat. There arestories that, failing Imperial heights, he plans to carve out a new Empirein the Barbarian hinterland. It is said, but I don't vouch for this, thathe has already given one of his daughters as wife to a Kinglet somewhere inthe uncharted Periphery.""If one listened to every story?
"I know. There are many more. I'm old and I babble nonsense. But what doyou say?" And those sharp, old eyes peered deep.
Five minutes later, Mallow was gone.
He returned but once, for a moment, to the old patrician's house, beforeleaving it entirely, however. And when Onum Barr stepped into his littlegarden early the next morning, he found a box at his feet. It containedprovisions, concentrated provisions such as one would find aboard ship, andalien in taste and preparation.
But they were good, and lasted long.
"Your door was open," the stranger explained.
His accent was clipped and harsh, and Barr did not fail to notice thestrange blue-steel hand-weapon at his hip. In the half gloom of the smallroom, Barr saw the glow of a force-shield surrounding the man.
He said, wearily, "There is no reason to keep it closed. Do you wishanything of me?""Yes." The stranger remained standing in the center of the room. He waslarge, both in height and bulk. "Yours is the only house about here.""It is a desolate place," agreed Barr, "but there is a town to the east. Ican show you the way'.""In a while. May I sit?""If the chairs will hold you," said the old man, gravely. They were old,too. Relics of a better youth.
The stranger said, "My name is Hober Mallow. I come from a far province."Barr nodded and smiled, "Your tongue convicted you of that long ago. I amOnum Barr of Siwenna ? and once Patrician of the Empire.""Then this is Siwenna. I had only old maps to guide me.""They would have to be old, indeed, for star-positions to be misplaced."Barr sat quite still, while the other's eyes drifted away into a reverie.
He noticed that the nuclear force-shield had vanished from about the manand admitted dryly to himself that his person no longer seemed formidableto strangers ? or even, for good or for evil, to his enemies.
He said, "My house is poor and my resources few. You may share what I haveif your stomach can endure black bread and dried corn."Mallow shook his head, "No, I have eaten, and I can't stay. All I need arethe directions to the center of government.""That is easily enough done, and poor though I am, deprives me of nothing.
Do you mean the capital of the planet, or of the Imperial Sector?"The younger man's eyes narrowed, "Aren't the two identical? Isn't thisSiwenna?"The old patrician nodded slowly, "Siwenna, yes. But Siwenna is no longercapital of the Normannic Sector. Your old map has misled you after all. Thestars may not change even in centuries, but political boundaries are alltoo fluid.""That's too bad. In fact, that's very bad. Is the new capital far off?""It's on Orsha II. Twenty parsecs off. Your map will direct you. How old isit?""A hundred and fifty years.""That old?" The old man sighed. "History has been crowded since. Do youknow any of it?"Mallow shook his bead slowly.
Barr said, "You're fortunate. It has been an evil time for the provinces,but for the reign of Stannell VI, and he died fifty years ago. Since thattime, rebellion and ruin, ruin and rebellion." Barr wondered if he weregrowing garrulous. It was a lonely life out here, and he had so littlechance to talk to men.
Mallow said with sudden sharpness, "Ruin, eh? You sound as if the provincewere impoverished.""Perhaps not on an absolute scale. The physical resources of twenty-fivefirst-rank planets take a long time to use up. Compared to the wealth ofthe last century, though, we have gone a long way downhill ?and there isno sign of turning, not yet. Why are you so interested in all this, youngman? You are all alive and your eyes shine!"The trader came near enough to blushing, as the faded eyes seemed to looktoo deep into his and smile at what they saw.
He said, "Now look here. I'm a trader out there ?out toward the rim of theGalaxy. I've located some old maps, and I'm out to open new markets.
Naturally, talk of impoverished provinces disturbs me. You can't get moneyout of a world unless money's there to be got. Now how's Siwenna, forinstance?"The old man leaned forward, "I cannot say. It will do even yet, perhaps.
But you a trader? You look more like a fighting man. You hold your handnear your gun and there is a scar on your jawbone."Mallow jerked his head, "There isn't much law out there where I come from.
Fighting and scars are part of a trader's overhead. But fighting is onlyuseful when there's money at the end, and if I can get it without, so muchthe sweeter. Now will I find enough money here to make it worth thefighting? I take it I can find the fighting easily enough.""Easily enough," agreed Barr. "You could join Wiscard's remnants in the RedStars. I don't know, though, if you'd call that fighting or piracy. Or youcould join our present gracious viceroy ? gracious by right of murder,pillage, rapine, and the word of a boy Emperor, since rightfullyassassinated." The patrician's thin cheeks reddened. His eyes closed andthen opened, bird-bright.
"You don't sound very friendly to the viceroy, Patrician Barr," saidMallow. "What if I'm one of his spies?""What if you are?" said Barr, bitterly. "What can you take?" He gestured awithered arm at the bare interior of the decaying mansion.
"Your life.""It would leave me easily enough. It has been with me five years too long.
But you are not one of the viceroy's men. If you were, perhaps even nowinstinctive self-preservation would keep my mouth closed.""How do you know?"The old man laughed, "You seem suspicious ?Come, I'll wager you think I'mtrying to trap you into denouncing the government. No, no. I am pastpolitics.""Past politics? Is a man ever past that? The words you used to describe theviceroy ?what were they? Murder, pillage, all that. You didn't soundobjective. Not exactly. Not as if you were past politics."The old man shrugged, "Memories sting when they come suddenly. Listen!
Judge for yourself! When Siwenna was the provincial capital, I was apatrician and a member of the provincial senate. My family was an old andhonored one. One of my great-grandfathers had been?No, never mind that.
Past glories are poor feeding.""I take it," said Mallow, "there was a civil war, or a revolution."Barr's face darkened. "Civil wars are chronic in these degenerate days, butSiwenna had kept apart. Under Stannell VI, it had almost achieved itsancient prosperity. But weak emperors followed, and weak emperors meanstrong viceroys, and our last viceroy ?the same Wiscard, whose remnantsstill prey on the commerce among the Red Stars ?aimed at the ImperialPurple. He wasn't the first to aim. And if he had succeeded, he wouldn'thave been the first to succeed.
"But he failed. For when the Emperor's Admiral approached the province atthe head of a fleet, Siwenna itself rebelled against its rebel viceroy." Hestopped, sadly.
Mallow found himself tense on the edge of his seat, and relaxed slowly,"Please continue, sir.""Thank you," said Barr, wearily. "It's kind of you to humor an old man.
"Well, came the grim retort, "that didn't suit the admiral. He wanted theglory of conquering a rebellious province and his men wanted the loot suchconquest would involve. So while the people were still gathered in everylarge city, cheering the Emperor and his admiral, he occupied all armedcenters, and then ordered the population put to the nuclear blast.""On what pretext?""On the pretext that they had rebelled against their viceroy, the Emperor'sanointed. And the admiral became the new viceroy, by virtue of one month ofmassacre, pillage and complete horror. I had six sons. Five died ?
variously. I had a daughter. I hope she died, eventually. I escaped becauseI was old. I came here, too old to cause even our viceroy worry." He benthis gray head, "They left me nothing, because I had helped drive out arebellious governor and deprived an admiral of his glory."Mallow sat silent, and waited. Then, "What of your sixth son?" he askedsoftly.
"We laughed. I laughed, too. I forgot it till today. But you glow in thedarkness, and I don't think my blaster, if I had one, would hurt you. Tellme, can you fly through air as you sit there now?"Mallow said calmly, "I can make nothing of all this."Barr smiled, "I'm content with the answer. I do not examine my guests. Butif there are magicians; if you are one of them; there may some day be agreat influx of them, or you. Perhaps that would be well. Maybe we need newblood." He muttered soundlessly to himself, then, slowly, "But it works theother way, too. Our new viceroy also dreams, as did our old Wiscard.""Also after the Emperor's crown?"Barr nodded, "My son hears tales. In the viceroy's personal entourage, onecould scarcely help it. And he tells me of them. Our new viceroy would notrefuse the Crown if offered, but he guards his line of retreat. There arestories that, failing Imperial heights, he plans to carve out a new Empirein the Barbarian hinterland. It is said, but I don't vouch for this, thathe has already given one of his daughters as wife to a Kinglet somewhere inthe uncharted Periphery.""If one listened to every story?
"I know. There are many more. I'm old and I babble nonsense. But what doyou say?" And those sharp, old eyes peered deep.
Five minutes later, Mallow was gone.
He returned but once, for a moment, to the old patrician's house, beforeleaving it entirely, however. And when Onum Barr stepped into his littlegarden early the next morning, he found a box at his feet. It containedprovisions, concentrated provisions such as one would find aboard ship, andalien in taste and preparation.
But they were good, and lasted long.
