'Smart?'
'For sharks. The first night, there's weed close to shore. Morning, the chugs have to go deeper for it. Next night, deeper yet. Next morning, even farther. The sharks get a better and better chance to catch a chug or two.'
'They don't get smart, just hungry. The chugs are taking their food, Angelo.'
Thousands of Spirals had come to watch the shark-shooting. Now they descended on the wagons.
Yutzes were sent to fetch the clocks, pottery, glassware, fruit, and vegetables piled beyond the gate. The prices for these had been agreed. They were told to leave the Begley cloth alone. By noon it was sparking and spitting lightning, not safe to touch.
The Spirals bought what the wagons sold, and couldn't believe that they couldn't buy speckles too. Jeremy gave away handfuls of festivity to all the children. He'd cut and roll more tonight.
Merchants were expected to wear eccentric dress. Pockets were always in fashion. Jeremy had built a big pocket over his belly and lined it, and he kept a generous handful of extra seeds inside to keep the jelly candies from sticking. It gave him a lumpy-rotund look.
Come evening, the Hearsts geared up for Warkan's Tavern. As they laid out cookware and the yutzes dug their pits, Jeremy found himself crouching down behind his persona. The last time he'd seen Warkan's Tavern, he'd killed a man.
Here came a forest of black devilhair and a row of chugs pushing it. Time to board the roofs.
Far up the Road, two electric wagons approached Warkan's Tavern. Maybe Spiral Town only had two; in Jeremy's youth they'd had four. These were empty but for five men.
They stopped at the gate. Five soberly dressed Spiral Town men went into the tavern and emerged on the second-floor balcony.
The chugs left off burrowing in the black weed, and moved uphill. Sharks zipped up the sand. Bullets spattered them; two fled, seven burrowed into the weed, four sped after the chugs. A hail of bullets stopped those.
'Smarter,' Angelo grunted, and relaxed.
Seven sharks zipped out of the weed all at once, into the waves before anyone could quite react.
Harlow asked, 'What would it cost to wipe out lungsharks?'
'We almost have,' Glen Hearst said. 'There used to be more. It's a bad idea, though. Without sharks we'd pay less attention to shark guns. Locals tend to be respectful if they've seen shark guns in action. Bandits too.'
Tanya asked, 'Harlow, don't you like shooting sharks?'
'I really do not.' Tanya laughed.
Miller wagon was cooking dinner tonight, though Hearst wagon had helped set up. Jeremy and Harlow waited for Glen. The elders seemed to be waiting for... what? But a third of the caravan walked toward Warkan's Tavern, a growing crowd that included Angelo, Tanya, and Steban.
They stopped, milling a bit, when the dignitaries came out of Warkan's Tavern and walked toward the caravan.
Glen Hearst said, 'I think that's my dinner.'
Jemmy Bloocher's father had been of the Council, and the Council did usually take several wagonmasters to dinner. In his youth the car-
avans had come as far as the Hub. Later... but was it nonnal for the Council to come this far?
The Councilors were picking up elders from the wagons, not all, just some. Nobody from Krupp wagon, #2. Nine men re~ched Hearst wagon. One man took Glen Hearst aside and spoke to him, a casual and genial tone, words half-heard. '-Harry's Bar-'
Pat the special pocket: half-full. Pit chef Jeremy: obsequious, a bit effusive. First sight of Spiral Town: gape a little. Even Warkan 's Tavern is impressive. Damn, you can see buildings poking up in clusters a klick away! He felt himself wanting to overdo it.
'-And you must meet our pit chef from the finest restaurant on the Road, Jeremy Winslow.'
Not much interested, Chairman Greegry Bloocher stepped forward to shake the cook's hand.
'Jeremy, some of us have been invited to dinner by these good people, and I mentioned your dessert-'
'A recent invention, sir.' Spiral Town accentanda complacent smile. Jeremy handed his brother a thumb of festivity candy. He watched Greegiy's appreciation, and offered a handful to the rest. Harlow was watching him like a magician's hat.
'Why don't you come to dinner with us,' Glen Hearst asked, 'and bring some along?'
35
Spiral Town
Most cultures have understood that some are more equal than others. There were those who would not go to the stars, and there were those we not take.
-Captain Arnold Cohen aboard Argos, during negotiation
Electric wagons brought them back to the light and noise at Warkan's Tavern. Jeremy walked in behind Govert Miller. Harlow was with six other women on the women's side of the room. She saw him; he smiled; she dove back into animated conversation.
Jeremy looked around for company. He'd completely forgotten that he couldn't just sit down with his wife.
'There, Jeremy.' Govert Miller meant a table of merchants, all men in their twenties, with one empty chair. Jeremy fielded one from another table and they sat.
Jeremy flagged a waiter and ordered drinks for the table, far too skillfully. The waiter was puzzled. Nobody else noticed. The elder Miller began an animated description of events at dinner for merchants from Miller and Hearst. Jeremy listened, picking up more than he'd been able to witness.
The Council had capitulated. They'd kept some tattered shreds of dignity, kept some surface concessions. Some had to be silent for the depth of their fury.
The caravans would roll into Spiral Town tomorrow. Begley cloth would be loaded. Speckles would be delivered to the Hub and sold to Spiral women. The gate? That was being dealt with.
Drinks appeared. Jeremy paid, fumbling a bit with the coins. He sipped vodka and grapefruit, being cautious with it.
'You're quiet,' Govert said.
Jeremy jumped. He said, 'I was wondering. We set things back the way they were... when? Twenty years ago? Two hundred and twenty years ago the caravans were a going concern. Already self-supporting, weren't they?'
Heads nodded, don't really know, and Glen Hearst at another table barked, 'Right!'
'Self-supporting, and they carry the speckles, and even the Otterfolk get what they want out of it. That's what everyone hoped for in the first place. Isn't it about time we dismantled the Overview Bureau?'
The table burst into laughter. Jeremy looked down at his empty glass. No birdfucking- Angelo Hearst said, 'And we could raise the price of speckles through the roof!'
Govert Miller reproved him, elder to youth. 'Angelo, each wagon puts its own price-'
'Couldn't we all set one price? Or, wait, let's say eleven wagons up our prices and only Miller wagon stays low? Govert, you'd sell all your speckles before we got to the Shire. After that they'd pay whatever the rest of us want.'
Govert laughed. 'Jeremy, he's got a point.'
On another night they might have argued. How would Destiny Town cope if the Road communities knew the
