“Some of the folk did leave here,” Tenthag muttered, and went on to explain what he had found on his arrival.
“You were very sensible not to return to Bowock,” Dippid pronounced at last. “It may not have been what you were supposed to do, but it’s turned out for the best.”
“Do you have the bud-secret?” Loric demanded suddenly.
There was a pause like the interval between the lightning and the thunder. At last Dippid heaved a sigh.
“Yes. We had to bring something we could trade for food.”
“That’s liable to draw crowds of crazy folk to Neesos, then!” cried Fifthorch, indicating how much he had learned about the real world since Tenthag’s return. “We must think of ways to defend ourselves—”
“We must think of ways to feed ourselves,” Tenthag corrected stonily. “Sane, well-nourished folk are always our friends and allies. Only the crazy ones are a threat. And now we have a vast stockpile of precious knowledge; couriers are as well informed as anybody short of the Jingfired themselves, or scientists like Gveest. Is there news of him, by the way?”
Dippid clacked his mandibles. “Report has it that he and Pletrow and the rest are captives with the Major Fleet. But nobody knows for certain. It may just be another rumor put about to encourage folk to pay extortionate prices.”
“I hope for his sake he’s not,” Tenthag said softly. “I got to know him pretty well while I was at Ognorit, and I’m certain he would be horrified to see the dreadful impact his discovery is having. He knew about it, he tried to guard us against it, and through ill-luck I was the one who was obliged to undermine his precautions.”
“Iyosc forgave you for that,” Nemora said, laying a claw friendly on his mantle-edge. “And what you’re doing here is making further amends. What’s more, perhaps the star—”
“We’ve been over that!”—morosely from Dippid. “More likely it’s a harbinger of catastrophe, like the old New Star.”
“It can’t be! It’s not at all the same!” Nemora hunched forward. “We know the other one outshone the Major Cluster, to begin with. No, I think this is more likely a stroke of good fortune. Changes like that going on in the sky are just what people will need to keep reminding them of Jingtruths. Things must have been equally bleak when the Northern Freeze began, and again at the time of the Great Thaw—yet here we are, and we have some achievements of our own to boast of!”
“There’s no comparison,” Dippid maintained. “This time we’re breaking the very mold we were cast in by our evolution!”
Tenthag thought of Pletrow’s collection of mutated animals, and shuddered as the chief courier went on.
“No, it’s going to be a different world. Even during the famine at Southmost Cape I never saw anything as horrible as what’s now happening at Bowock. For all we can tell, there’s something in the radiation from the stars that drives us crazy now and then, and what can we do to withstand that? Grow a roof over the entire planet?”
“What use would a roof be against what’s sure to fall on us one of these days?” said Tenthag wearily, and forced himself to full height. “No, we dare not try and hide from our doom. The universe will not permit it. We must carry on somehow, preserving at least a nucleus of reason … There’s a tale about the legendary Barratong. When he realized the Thaw was bringing more and more of the planet under his people’s sway, he didn’t rejoice or boast about it. He accepted the duty which the past had laid upon the present. Do you remember what he said?”
“Of course,” said Loric as he also rose. “All we People of the Sea are brought up to regard it as the finest principle of our heritage, though since it led to the foundation of Bowock and the Guild of Couriers— Never mind! This is not a moment for squabbling over what’s past and done with. Barratong said, in fact, ‘We are the Jingfired now!’ ”
“It’s our turn to say the same,” said Tenthag, and padded miserably away towards the first glint of dawn, wondering how much sorrow and insanity the sun must shine on before the folk recovered from the shock of being multiplied.