The Stranger - Max Frei [37]
“That’s what I’m saying—Lonki-Lomki!” And Melifaro turned to me abruptly. “So in fact you’re my main rescuer? Well, what do you know, Sir Nocturnal Nightmare! I owe you one.”
That was the moment of triumph for me. I had been preparing my acceptance speech on the way over.
“Nonsense. Where we live, in the Barren Lands, every beggarly nomad has a mirror like Makluk’s in his household. I don’t understand why here, in the capital, people make such a big fuss over something so trivial.”
Shurf Lonli-Lokli expressed polite surprise. “Really, Sir Max? It’s strange that scholars make no mention of this.”
“There’s nothing strange about it.” I snapped, putting on a malevolent leer. “The ones who could have told the story are now forever silent. We have to feed our favorite house-pets somehow!”
Sir Juffin Hully burst out laughing. Melifaro raised his eyebrows in surprise, but realized almost immediately that I was just teasing and let out a guffaw. Lonli-Lokli shrugged indulgently and reached again for his mug.
“Save your strength, gentlemen,” Juffin warned. “Today in the Glutton a public holiday has been declared: it’s Melifaro’s resurrection. You do as you wish, but Max and I are going out to carouse. We’ve earned it! Sir Shurf, you’re coming too; and that’s an order! Melifaro, you’re probably still too weak. You stay here and get better. We’ll carouse for you!”
“Me, weak? You can just drive me to the Glutton.”
“Well, all right. We’ll drive you right to the doorstep. But you don’t know how Sir Max drives the amobiler! He’ll keep you in check—he’ll shake the living daylights right out of you!”
“Sir Max? You mean to say you’re a real racer?”
“I didn’t think so,” I said proudly, “but Sir Juffin was very dissatisfied when he came for a spin with me. He kept asking me to slow down, even though I was virtually crawling. Actually, everyone here drives slowly. Why is that I wonder?”
Melifaro leaped out of his chair.
“If that is true, then you’re perfect! Why is it that you haven’t conquered us yet?”
“The military potential of border-dwellers is extremely low,” Sir Lonli-Lokli remarked pedantically. “On the other hand, their intellectual capabilities are without doubt higher than ours. Unlike you, Sir Max learned to pronounce my name on the first try. An impressive debut, wouldn’t you say?”
CHAPTER TWO
JUBA CHEBOBARGO AND OTHER NICE FOLKS
“MAX, ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE GOING TO BE COMFORTABLE here?” asked Juffin. He himself looked rather uncertain. “Or have you not yet come to terms with the fact that the King will be paying for your lodgings now?”
It all seemed quite funny to me: just yesterday the very idea that I could move into this massive empty house made my head spin. Sure, it was only two stories high, with one room on each story; but each room was the size of a small stadium. For some reason, they don’t seem to feel the need to economize on space in Echo. Local architecture features only low buildings, two or three stories high, which are, nevertheless, incredibly spacious. The house that I chose on the Street of Old Coins was smaller than its neighbors, which I rather liked about it. Judging by Juffin’s expression, however, it seemed I was enchanted to be living in a slum.
“We Border Dwellers are slaves to habit,” I said proudly. “If only you could see the yurts we inhabit in the Barren Lands.” This secret ethnographic reference was for the benefit of the house’s owner, who stood deferentially to the side. After all, you can’t very well tell a respectable citizen that the person who wants to rent his house is an émigré from another world. The poor fellow was, of course, delighted by his good fortune, but not enough to let this intriguing information about my origins slip by unnoticed.
“And besides, I made my choice out of a sense of duty. The more wretched my conditions at home, the more time I will spend at work.”
“Sounds reasonable, Sir Max. Very well, you can sleep upstairs and entertain guests on the first floor.