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Authors: Avram Davidson
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parasites.
’ ”
And Gaspar immediately said, “Kar-chee.”
He was about to say more but a young woman of the stranger people, lighthaired and not ill-favored, rose from where she was sitting and stroking a small gray lamb, and said, “Liam!”
Her friend began to smile, then made an abrupt, impatient gesture, and she started to back away. He grasped her hand and drew her along, saying, “Father, your pardon, but — ”
“Granted. Young person, your name has not been made known to me.”
“Cerry … Cerry, I’m called.”
“Have all your wants been made known to the Mother?”
“Yes…. She’s been very kind.”
“ ‘Kind,’ a word of insufficient exactitude. The Mother knows her work; if you have made known your wants to her they will by now have been supplied if it is proper and convenient for them to be so. Has she informed you on the subject of cohabitation? You flush. How becoming and proper. So be it. Accompany us on our conversational circuit of the ark if you wish, but feel no compulsion, and on no account interrupt us further or again.”
So on they went, past the sheep-pens freshly littered with sawdust, past the woman plying distaff and spindle, past the sick-bay where some of the raft-people still lay, down to the close-packed but neatly arranged living-quarters — hammocks lashed and stowed; bachelors’ section here, single women there, nursery, married couples’ quarters; supplies: food, seed, tools, cloth, yarn, hides, salt, spices, water. Father Gaspar checked everything, inspected the rude but serviceable pumps, peered into each of the tripart hulls — and talked … talked … talked….
After a long, long time he informed them that it was his period for rest, and politely dismissed them.
Back up on deck, in a niche which, as no one else seemed to have claimed it, they made their own, Liam looked at Cerry. And she at him. After a moment, he asked, “And what, exactly, did the Mother inform you about cohabitation?”
She half-smiled, half-scowled. “Oh … since no one knows for sure how long we’ll be at sea, and since pregnancy and childbirth would be inconvenient for the duration of the voyage, all cohabitation has to be, well, ‘qualified’ was her word for it. I can go into details if you’d really like.”
“Not necessary.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, moodily.
“I haven’t forced you or distrained you. I don’t now.”
She blew out her lips. “Thank you, brave one. I understand that I am free to take my sheepskin elsewhere for qualified cohabitation….” With a quick expression of her face she showed what she thought of that, and with a quick glance of her eye and pressure of her hand on his she showed what she still thought of Liam. Then, “Well, the Mother is not a bad old one, considering that she’s been the sole wife of old Father Know-it-all for thirty years. Tell me, Liam: are they all quite mad? Or just him?”
He said, “I suppose it’s a sort of qualified madness, one may say. Don’t laugh, lewd woman…. I don’t know for sure what to think of it all. Except that I think for sure that I am glad this vessel,
ark
, as they call it, was there when we were there … wherever we were…. If we just had a map … Well.
Every man hath his own madness
. A saying from our own wise ancients….”
He ruffled her light hair. The ark women had been obliged to cut it short, so tangled had it been. “This is no single, simple thread we have to follow; this you know, Cerry, don’t you? It goes weaving in and weaving out, it leads through the fire and the sea and storm, it’s full of knots, but the knots are proper parts of it. The Knowers are one knot. We’ll unravel it yet. And we will be sure of finding use for the slack as well. I’m sure of that.”
• • •
He was sure of little else but that. The ark folk were kind enough — “imprecise” though their captain-priest-father might find the term; they went about their
’ ”
And Gaspar immediately said, “Kar-chee.”
He was about to say more but a young woman of the stranger people, lighthaired and not ill-favored, rose from where she was sitting and stroking a small gray lamb, and said, “Liam!”
Her friend began to smile, then made an abrupt, impatient gesture, and she started to back away. He grasped her hand and drew her along, saying, “Father, your pardon, but — ”
“Granted. Young person, your name has not been made known to me.”
“Cerry … Cerry, I’m called.”
“Have all your wants been made known to the Mother?”
“Yes…. She’s been very kind.”
“ ‘Kind,’ a word of insufficient exactitude. The Mother knows her work; if you have made known your wants to her they will by now have been supplied if it is proper and convenient for them to be so. Has she informed you on the subject of cohabitation? You flush. How becoming and proper. So be it. Accompany us on our conversational circuit of the ark if you wish, but feel no compulsion, and on no account interrupt us further or again.”
So on they went, past the sheep-pens freshly littered with sawdust, past the woman plying distaff and spindle, past the sick-bay where some of the raft-people still lay, down to the close-packed but neatly arranged living-quarters — hammocks lashed and stowed; bachelors’ section here, single women there, nursery, married couples’ quarters; supplies: food, seed, tools, cloth, yarn, hides, salt, spices, water. Father Gaspar checked everything, inspected the rude but serviceable pumps, peered into each of the tripart hulls — and talked … talked … talked….
After a long, long time he informed them that it was his period for rest, and politely dismissed them.
Back up on deck, in a niche which, as no one else seemed to have claimed it, they made their own, Liam looked at Cerry. And she at him. After a moment, he asked, “And what, exactly, did the Mother inform you about cohabitation?”
She half-smiled, half-scowled. “Oh … since no one knows for sure how long we’ll be at sea, and since pregnancy and childbirth would be inconvenient for the duration of the voyage, all cohabitation has to be, well, ‘qualified’ was her word for it. I can go into details if you’d really like.”
“Not necessary.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, moodily.
“I haven’t forced you or distrained you. I don’t now.”
She blew out her lips. “Thank you, brave one. I understand that I am free to take my sheepskin elsewhere for qualified cohabitation….” With a quick expression of her face she showed what she thought of that, and with a quick glance of her eye and pressure of her hand on his she showed what she still thought of Liam. Then, “Well, the Mother is not a bad old one, considering that she’s been the sole wife of old Father Know-it-all for thirty years. Tell me, Liam: are they all quite mad? Or just him?”
He said, “I suppose it’s a sort of qualified madness, one may say. Don’t laugh, lewd woman…. I don’t know for sure what to think of it all. Except that I think for sure that I am glad this vessel,
ark
, as they call it, was there when we were there … wherever we were…. If we just had a map … Well.
Every man hath his own madness
. A saying from our own wise ancients….”
He ruffled her light hair. The ark women had been obliged to cut it short, so tangled had it been. “This is no single, simple thread we have to follow; this you know, Cerry, don’t you? It goes weaving in and weaving out, it leads through the fire and the sea and storm, it’s full of knots, but the knots are proper parts of it. The Knowers are one knot. We’ll unravel it yet. And we will be sure of finding use for the slack as well. I’m sure of that.”
• • •
He was sure of little else but that. The ark folk were kind enough — “imprecise” though their captain-priest-father might find the term; they went about their
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