Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [524]
‘You are hiding this deserter on the premises,’ he said. He took a step towards Odim, at no time glancing at the girl, who had subsided against the wall, clutching her mouth.
Gardeterark produced from one of his boxes a pistol, and pointed it at Odim’s stomach. ‘You are under arrest, Odim, you foreign sherb. Take me to where you are concealing Fashnalgid.’
Odim clutched his beard. Although the sight of Besi being struck had frightened him with its violence, it had also stiffened his resolve. He gave the major a blank stare.
‘I don’t know who you mean.’
Prominent yellow teeth came into view, framed between lips which immediately squeezed shut again. It was the major’s patent way of smiling.
‘You know who I mean. He lodged with you. He went on an expedition into Chalce with this woman of yours, no doubt with your connivance. He is to be arrested for desertion. A wharf hand witnessed him come in here. Lead me to him or I’ll have you taken to headquarters for questioning.’
Odim stepped back.
‘I’ll take you to him.’
At the far end of the gallery was a door into the rear areas of the building. As Gardeterark followed Odim, he pushed aside one of the tables obstructing his easy passage. The chinaware fell to the floor and shattered.
Odim made no sign. He signalled Gagrim forward. ‘Unlock this door.’
‘Your slave can stay behind,’ Gardeterark said.
‘He carries the keys during the day.’
The keys were in Gagrim’s pocket, secured by a chain to his belt. He unlocked the door with trembling hand, letting the two men through.
They were in a passage leading to the rear offices. Odim led the way. They went down the passage and turned left, where four steps led up to a metal door. Odim gestured to the slave to unlock it. An especially large key was needed.
Once through it, they emerged on a balcony overlooking a yard. Most of the yard was occupied by cartloads of wood and two old-fashioned kilns. The kilns were generally unused; one was at present being fired to meet an emergency order from the local garrison, for whom no great finesse was needed. Otherwise, most of the Odim porcelain came from companies situated elsewhere in Koriantura. Four company phagors stood about, tending the active kiln. It was old and inefficiently insulated, and the heat and smoke from it filled the yard.
‘Well?’ Gardeterark prompted as Odim hesitated.
‘He’s in a loft over there,’ Odim said, pointing across the yard. Their balcony was connected to the loft he indicated by a catwalk which spanned the yard. It was almost as ancient as the kilns below; its single wooden railing was rickety and sooted up by smoke from below.
Odim started cautiously across the catwalk. Halfway across, as the smoke billowed up, he paused, steadying himself with one hand on the rail. ‘I’m feeling ill … I’d better go back,’ he said, turning towards the major. ‘Look at the kiln.’
Eedap Mun Odim was not a violent man. All his life, he had hated force. Even signs of anger disgusted him – his own anger not least. He had schooled himself to politeness and obedience, following the example of his parents. Now he threw away his training. He brought his arms round with a wide swinging movement, hands clasped together, and as Gardeterark glanced down, caught him on the back of his neck.
‘Gagrim!’ Odim called. His slave never moved.
Gardeterark staggered with his side against the rail and tried to bring up the gun. Odim kicked him on the knee and butted him in the chest. The officer seemed twice his size, the greatcoat impenetrable.
He heard the rail crack, heard the revolver explode, felt Gardeterark begin to fall, dropped to the catwalk on hands and knees to save himself from going too.
Gardeterark gave a terrible cry as he fell.
Odim watched him go, arms flailing, his animal mouth open. It was not far to fall. He hit the middle of the dual-chamber kiln which was being fired. The roof of the kiln was strewn with loose brick and rubble. Cracks ran across it, widening, flaring red. As the heat came up, Odim pulled himself flat