He picked up his saddle and threw it onto his horse, still growling to himself. “Talk to some of them. That’s what. Talk to them and find out what’s going on.”
Bane lifted his brother from the ground, muttering, “You don’t have good sense, you know that?”
Dyre cried, “I heard you say the same thing about the cities, about his plan.”
“At night, when he was sleepy. And in a tone of voice like it wasn’t important. Not pushing it up his nose! That’s bound to jerk him up! Keep it shut, brother. I’ll figure it out. You just keep it shut and come along.”
53—The Farther Shore
On the third day of their voyage, while Questioner brooded on deck and all except the Corojum slept, the ship finished its voyage and was hauled ashore. The Corojum alone had been on watch as they passed the last two pillars, and he alone had sung the last lines, in his own language, while two of the Timmys manned the sails. When the keel of the ship grated on the bottom, the Corojum wakened the others, the Timmys gathered at the rail, the ship extruded its gangway, and they disembarked. The ship turned, of itself, and sailed out beyond the nearest pillars where, said the Corojum, it would come to no harm.
“Now what?” asked Mouche, wiping the sleep from the comers of his eyes.
“Tunneler,” said the Corojum. “The Fauxi-dizalonz isn’t far from here, and we could walk, but most everyone is there by now. There’s just us left, and some of the jongau and some people from Sendoph.”
“People from Sendoph?” asked Questioner. “Who might that be?”
“Two Hags,” the Corojum said. “And Madame from House Genevois. And Simon, and a Man of Business.”
“Madame?” cried Mouche. “Did she come after me?”
“Whether she did or not, how do you know all these things?” demanded Questioner.
Corojum looked surprised. “Swoopers and swivelers come through the walls, up out of the sea, through the air, like moths. They carry messages.”
“Luminous things. Like flying kites or diamonds?” asked Mouche.
“Like that. How could we all work together if we did not know what was going on? The Man of Business is not a bad one. Calvy is a good mankind, and so is Simon, more or less.”
“How do you know so much about them?” asked Questioner. “Do you spend a lot of time watching them?”
“The Timmys do. At first, we needed badly to understand them, those first ones. Then, after we took them to the Fauxi-dizalonz, we thought we did understand them. They were Jong, gau, useless. Then you new ones came and we weren’t sure. In some ways, your culture is like our own. You have supernumes, we have Timmys. You have actors and musicians, we have Corojumi. Had Corojumi. You have Hags, we have Bofusdiaga. You have Hagions, we have Kaorugi.”
“The Hags are like Bofusdiaga?” Questioner regarded him with delight. “That is a new idea.”
“Bofusdiaga balances things to keep all the parts functioning. The Hags balance things to keep all the parts functioning. We do not have anything like the Men of Business, though. It seems to us odd to churn one’s needs in that way. Buy everything, churn it around, increase the price, then sell it back to people who made it. To us it seems sensible to make what everyone needs and let everyone use what he needs, but then we do not have five brains inside, rattling away. The ape brain you all have is very acquisitive, so our way would not work for you.”
“How do you know it is the ape brain?” asked Mouche, yawning.
“I think you give five apes five bananas, biggest ape will take them all,” said the Corojum. “Unless other four gang up on it, or, unless it is mother with child. So say the Hags.”
“When will we finish this journey?” asked Ornery. “Can you tell me?”
“When we are finished,” said the Corojum.
“When we come from underground,” said Questioner, “I hope I will be able to reach my ship. I have not been able, up until now.”
The Corojum did not meet her eyes. “Maybe that is Kaorugi. Maybe Kaorugi does not want you talking.”