Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [522]
‘Jhessie, I have enjoyed your friendship over twenty-five years, give or take a tenner. I have also much appreciated your work; maybe I never paid you enough. Although I am only a merchant, nevertheless I appreciate artistry in others, and no one in all Sibornal has depicted birds on porcelain so finely as you. I wish to give you a parting present, something too delicate to travel, which I think you will appreciate. I could have sold it in the auctions but I thought you made a worthy recipient.’
Jheserabhay struggled into a sitting position and looked expectant. Odim motioned to his slave to open the bag. Gagrim lifted out an article which he handed to Odim. Odim raised the article and held it temptingly before the artist’s eyes.
The clock was of the shape and size of a goose’s egg. Its dial showed the twenty-five hours of the day round the outer circle, with the forty minutes of the hour inside, in the traditional way. But on the hour, when striking – and the mechanism could be made to strike at any time by pressing a button – the clock revolved, so that a second, rear, face was briefly revealed. The rear face also had two hands, the outer indicating the week, tenner, and season of the small year, and the inner the season of the Great Year.
The faces were enamel. The egg was of gold. It was clutched, top and bottom, by a figure in jade, the ample figure of the Original Beholder, seated on a bank which formed the base of the clock. To one side of her, wheat grew; to the other, glaciers. The finish of the whole was exquisite, the detail perfect: the toes which peeped from the Beholder’s sandals had discernible nails.
Reaching out his old seamed hands, Jheserabhay took the clock and examined it for a long time without speaking. Tears came to his eyes.
‘It’s a thing of beauty, no less. The workmanship is wonderful. And I can’t recognise its provenance. Is it from Kuj-Juvec?’
Odim bridled up immediately. ‘We barbarians are excellent craftsmen. Didn’t you know we live in sherb but spend our life killing people and turning out exquisite artwork? Isn’t that the idea you proud Uskuti have of us?’
‘I didn’t mean to offend you, Odim.’
‘Well, it is from Juthir, if you must know, our capital city. Take it. It will cause you to remember me for five minutes.’ As he said this, he turned away and looked out the window. A file of soldiers under a noncommissioned officer were searching a house opposite. As Odim watched, two of them brought a man out into the square. The man hung his head, as if ashamed to be seen in such company.
‘I’m really sorry you are going, Odim,’ said the artist, placatingly.
‘Evil is loose in the world. I have to go.’
‘I don’t believe in evil. Mistakes, yes. Not evil.’
‘Then perhaps you are afraid to believe it exists. It exists wherever men are. It’s in this very room. Good-bye, Jhessie.’
He left the old man clutching the clock and trying to rise from his dusty chair.
Odim looked round warily before leaving the shelter of the house where Jheserabhar had his apartment. The file of soldiers had disappeared with their prisoner. He stepped briskly in the Court, dismissing the encounter with the artist from his mind. These Uskuti were always hard to deal with, after all. It would be a relief to get away from them.
He was all prepared to go. Everything had been done legally, if hastily. Since Besi Besamitikahl had collected the deserter Captain Fashnalgid in the dinghy, two days earlier, Odim had concentrated on getting his affairs in order. He had sold his house to an unfriendly relation and his export business to a friendly rival. He had purchased a ship with Fashnalgid’s aid. He would join his brother in distant Shivenink. It would be a pleasure to see Odirin again; they could help each other now that they were not as young as they had been …
Struggle is the true guise of hope, Odim said to himself, straightening his back and walking a little faster. Don’t give up. Life will be easier, winter or no winter. You must cease to think