The Blue World by Jack Vance Read Free Book Online Page A

Myrex. “There
is no question of comparing importances.”
    “The lagoon is
also under the jurisdiction of man,” said Sklar Hast. “This
particular kragen is now on the float. Where is the rope?”
    Arbiter Myrex
called out in his sternest tones: “This is how I interpret the
customs of Tranque Float: The kragen must be restored to the water,
with all haste. No other course is consistent with custom.”
    There was a
stirring among the men who had helped snare the sea-beast. Sklar Hast
said nothing, but taking up the rope, formed a noose. He crawled
forward, flipped up the noose to catch a dangling vane, then crawling
back and rising to his feet, he circled the creature, binding the
dangling vanes. The kragen’s motions became increasingly constricted
and finally were reduced to spasmodic shudders. Sklar Hast approached
the creature from the rear, careful to remain out of reach of
mandibles and palps, and made the bonds secure. “Now the vile
beast can only squirm. Lower it to the pad, and we will find a means
to make its end.”
    The guy ropes were
shifted; the pole tilted and swung; the kragen fell to the surface of
the pad, where it lay, passive, palps and mandibles moving slightly
in and out. It showed no agitation or discomfort; perhaps it felt
none. The exact degree of the kragen’s sensitivity and ratiocinative
powers had never been determined.
    In the east the sky
was lightening where the cluster of flaring blue and white suns known
as Phocan’s Cauldron began to rise. The ocean glimmered with a leaden
sheen, and the folk who stood on the central pad began to glance
furtively along the obscure horizon, muttering and complaining. Some
few called out encouragement to Sklar Hast, recommending the most
violent measures against the kragen. Between these and others furious
arguments raged. Zander Rohan stood by Ixon Myrex, both obviously
disapproving of Sklar Hast’s activity. Of the Caste Elders only Poe
Belrod and Elmar Pronave, Jackleg and Master Witheweaver, defended
Sklar Hast and his unconventional acts.
    Sklar Hast ignored
all. He sat watching the black hulk with vast distaste, furious with
himself as well for having become involved in so perilous a project.
What, after all, had been gained? The kragen had broken his arbors;
he had revenged himself and prevented more destruction; well enough,
but he had also incurred the ill will of the most influential folk of
the float. More seriously, he had involved those others who had
trusted him and looked to him for leadership and toward whom he now
felt responsibility.
    He rose to his
feet. There was no help for it; the sooner the beast was disposed of,
the more quickly life would return to normal. He approached the
kragen, examined it gingerly. The mandibles quivered in their anxiety
to sever Sklar Hast’s torso; Sklar stayed warily to the side. How to
kill the beast?
    Elmar Pronave
approached, the better to examine the creature. He was a tall man
with a high-bridged broken nose and black hair worn in the two
ear-plumes of the old Procurer Caste, now no longer in existence save
for a few aggressively unique individuals scattered through the
floats, who used the caste-marks to emphasize their emotional
detachment.
    Pronave circled the
hulk, kicked at the rear vane, bent to peer into one of the staring
eyes. “If we could cut it up, the parts might be of some use.”
    “The hide is
too tough for our knives,” growled Sklar Hast. “There’s no
neck to be strangled.”
    “There are
other ways to kill.”
    Sklar Hast nodded.
“We could sink the beast into the depths of the ocean—but what to use for weight? Bones? Far too valuable. We could load
bags with ash, but there is not that much ash to hand. We could burn
every hut on the float, as well as the hoodwink tower, and still not
secure sufficient. To burn the kragen would require a like mountain
of fuel.”
    A young Larcener
who had worked with great enthusiasm during the trapping of the
kragen spoke forth: