And Boarmus, relieved at having someone, anyone, to tell his worries to, felt much the same way. A stiff-necked old bastard, Ertigon, but a good man. Yes, a good man.
“I’ll go,” said Zasper. “Where do I find them?”
“By now they’ll be somewhere around Derbeck. The monitors showed a strange manifestation in Derbeck, so I sent a routine message to Danivon, telling him to check on it.”
Seeing Zasper’s expression, he cried, “I had to! Either that or go there myself. I’ve got to keep up an appearance of normalcy. That’s all that stands between us and chaos!” He heard himself babbling, bit his lip. “Take the Enforcer Post Door to Tolerance. Here’s my authority to take the Door from there to the Enforcer Post near Shallow. It’s a tiny post, but they have a few fliers there. Take whatever armament you think is most useful. I can’t advise you.”
Zasper nodded, thinking furiously.
“While I go my way,” murmured Boarmus. “To City Fifteen. This lad I’ve got with me, his name is Jacent. If you receive any message purporting to be from me, ignore it unless he brings it or it has his name. Any message from me alone will be false.”
“I’ll remember that, Boarmus.”
Boarmus grunted, wiping his face once more, trying to keep his stomach from rebelling.
“And, Boarmus….” What could he say to the poor fellow?
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Sir.”
The Dove sailed upriver all day, heading for the main river port of Molock province. For a good part of the day, Fringe kept to her cabin, trying very hard to think of nothing at all, not babies eaten by fangy, armor-plated gavers, not children cut into pieces among the reeds, not an immortal music dead before its time, not even herself and Danivon entwined. She had stayed with him until almost dawn, unable to break away from him. Now she found herself considering him in the same light as she did the Hobbs Land Gods: addicting, enslaving, something to flee from because she could not be with him and remain herself. Not, not, not. She unpacked the Destiny Machine and lay on her bunk twiddling the levers, watching the lights, hearing the bells, ignoring the words on the capsules, hypnotizing herself into thinking nothing at all.
Late that afternoon she emerged to find Jory standing at the taffrail, near where Danivon and Curvis were talking about Molock.
“The thing is,” said Curvis, “that this child smuggling isn’t being done as a regular thing, or by any certain group. What it is, is individual parents avoiding child sacrifice by stowing their children away on the riverboats.”
Danivon said he had never before Attended a Situation in Molock and was unfamiliar with the province.
Curvis described the situation in Molock.
“Ah,” said Danivon. “So we’re to see that the parents stop trying to save their children.”
“You can’t make them stop trying to save their children,” said Fringe. “You’ve said so yourself.”
Danivon looked up, shaking his head. “But they have no right to avoid the way things are. There’s always been human sacrifice in Molock.” He reached out a hand, which she evaded.
Fringe’s mouth worked as she fought the urge to tell him about at least one human—so-called—who had escaped Molock. “What, exactly, does the complaint and disposition say?” she asked.
Curvis took out his pocket file. “Complaint by High Priest, tum-te-tum … Disposition: Enforcer will tum-te-tum assess penalty against riverboat owners or workers or provinces involved and tum-te-tum will reaffirm, and so on.”
“So, assess a penalty,” said Fringe in a remote, cold voice. “What’s the local currency. Derbecki? Fine them five derbecki.”
“Five derbecki’s nothing,” said Curvis.
“I know,” she replied, turning away. “But it’s enough to comply with the C&D. And post a warning here in Molock. That’ll reaffirm.”
“What’re you carrying on about?” Danivon demanded, newly peeved with her. They had made love twice now, and after each time she had acted like she hated him. She had no right to behave this way! What ailed the woman!
She said, still in that faraway voice, “Remember Shimm-nau, that’s all. Didn’t they teach you two about Shimm-nau?”
The men fell silent as they considered Shimm-nau, a category-five theocracy, rigidly ruled by a priestly class and constantly subjected to heresy trials, torture, and executions. Because of its proximity to Tolerance, Enforcers had kept the place under unusually tight supervision. Someone in Shimm-nau had discovered a ravenous disease bacteria and had, with the aid of at least a thousand coconspirators, simultaneously infected the water supply in all parts of the province. It was Elsewhere’s only case of provincial murder-suicide. There had been no survivors. Shimm-nau was a cautionary example often stressed at Academy.
“You know,” Curvis offered in a careless voice, “she’s right to say a five-derbecki fine and a posted warning will comply. I mean, that’s all that’s strictly necessary. If anyone criticizes, we can mention Shimm-nau.”
“You have to leave people some way out,” said Fringe, turning to glare into Danivon’s eyes. “Even if ninety and nine in Molock approve of the way things are done, you must leave the hundredth one a way out! No destiny is right for everyone!”
“But it’s the Molockian way,” Danivon objected stubbornly, totally missing the point she was trying to make. “I think we ought to do something a bit more forceful than a five-derbecki fine and a posted announcement!”
“What?” she demanded, turning on him wrathfully. “Maybe you’d like to starve a few little kids yourself, just to show they can’t get away. Maybe you’d like to beat their bones when they’re dead!”
They glared at each other, then Fringe stalked away to stand beside Jory at the rail.
“Women are no damned good at Enforcement,” snarled Danivon, now thoroughly angry. “They get too emotional. They can’t keep their minds on the philosophical reasons for things.”
“You’re very angry,” Jory
