contemptuous glance at Hego—“and I don’t like seeing people made fools of.”
Balden cleared his throat. He said, “If I could make a suggestion, Captain—”
Ogric spun his chair to face the lieutenant. In a frosty voice suggesting he didn’t think the suggestion would be worth hearing, he said, “Yes?”
“I saw this man’s test results. He’d be worth keeping anyway as valuable material to train for a responsible job. We’ve got one worker here—this girl Clary—who scoffs at the superstitious nature of the others. We can probably find enough to fill, or partly fill, one of the cabins. Then we can persuade the rest by playing on their greed or by shaming them that they’re being foolish. The Vashti pull isn’t too long from here.”
“Any pull with this situation stewing aboard the ship would be too long,” Ogric growled. “But the proposal seems sensible enough. Come to think of it, if anyone might well be put on the ground again, it’s this shivering idiot Hego. But no doubt you, young woman”—he gave an ironical half-bow to Clary—“would have something to say about that as well.”
Clary returned his gaze evenly. “You wouldn’t be making a fool of him,” she said. “He’s been one since birth, looks like.”
Ogric couldn’t help it. He chuckled. “You’ve a head on your shoulders,” he said approvingly. “Let’s see if there’s something in it. You’re going to see if you can find ten more like yourself among these silly workers, who’ll have the sense you’ve shown—and if you do it, there’s a bonus for you on top of your contract pay.”
VIII
No one could have said whether it was the struggle between superstitious fear and simple greed, or merely Dyasthala cunning, which in the end compelled Ogric to promise a contract bonus to those workers who agreed to share quarters with Kazan as well as to Clary herself for finding them. There were going to be some pointed questions asked when he presented the accounts for this trip; still, he’d got off lighter than if he’d been obliged to honor the forfeiture clause in one of the contracts, or if he’d lost half the workers already signed up and had to hold back his departure while he hunted down some replacements.
In fact, it had not occurred to Clary to suggest to those she approached the idea of holding out for a bonus like hers. It wasn’t in the frame of reference of Dyasthala thinking. The reason she had sprung to Kazan’s aid in the captain’s cabin was because she and he both were opposed to authority—it wasn’t out of sympathy. The offer of the bonus, certainly, had worked in her case very well; without it she would never have argued so persuasively with the reluctant workers.
And it was clear that she wasn’t completely successful. That could be seen from the way the new occupants of the cabin hesitated when they came through the door for the first time, looking about them, seeing Kazan, being only slightly reassured on finding Clary calmly sitting on the next bunk to his. And it went on as it had begun. None of the others spent any more time than they had to in Kazan’s company, and often during the sleep period a light would go on, and one of the people in the cabin would lean over the side of the bunk and stare down at Kazan as though to make sure he was genuinely asleep and not dead.
At first Clary had viewed these goings-on with real scorn. In her mind she classed Hego with the foolish but wealthy people who had sometimes sent into the Dyasthala to consult the so-called witches and wizards there. Everyone in the thieves’ quarter knew that their trances and oracles, their illusions and their speaking with tongues, were just another way of parting rich folk from their money, rating somewhere on the criminal scale between confidence trickery and the disguising of stolen goods for resale.
Then it gradually dawned on her, first, that many of what she regarded as her own people seemed to have
Balden cleared his throat. He said, “If I could make a suggestion, Captain—”
Ogric spun his chair to face the lieutenant. In a frosty voice suggesting he didn’t think the suggestion would be worth hearing, he said, “Yes?”
“I saw this man’s test results. He’d be worth keeping anyway as valuable material to train for a responsible job. We’ve got one worker here—this girl Clary—who scoffs at the superstitious nature of the others. We can probably find enough to fill, or partly fill, one of the cabins. Then we can persuade the rest by playing on their greed or by shaming them that they’re being foolish. The Vashti pull isn’t too long from here.”
“Any pull with this situation stewing aboard the ship would be too long,” Ogric growled. “But the proposal seems sensible enough. Come to think of it, if anyone might well be put on the ground again, it’s this shivering idiot Hego. But no doubt you, young woman”—he gave an ironical half-bow to Clary—“would have something to say about that as well.”
Clary returned his gaze evenly. “You wouldn’t be making a fool of him,” she said. “He’s been one since birth, looks like.”
Ogric couldn’t help it. He chuckled. “You’ve a head on your shoulders,” he said approvingly. “Let’s see if there’s something in it. You’re going to see if you can find ten more like yourself among these silly workers, who’ll have the sense you’ve shown—and if you do it, there’s a bonus for you on top of your contract pay.”
VIII
No one could have said whether it was the struggle between superstitious fear and simple greed, or merely Dyasthala cunning, which in the end compelled Ogric to promise a contract bonus to those workers who agreed to share quarters with Kazan as well as to Clary herself for finding them. There were going to be some pointed questions asked when he presented the accounts for this trip; still, he’d got off lighter than if he’d been obliged to honor the forfeiture clause in one of the contracts, or if he’d lost half the workers already signed up and had to hold back his departure while he hunted down some replacements.
In fact, it had not occurred to Clary to suggest to those she approached the idea of holding out for a bonus like hers. It wasn’t in the frame of reference of Dyasthala thinking. The reason she had sprung to Kazan’s aid in the captain’s cabin was because she and he both were opposed to authority—it wasn’t out of sympathy. The offer of the bonus, certainly, had worked in her case very well; without it she would never have argued so persuasively with the reluctant workers.
And it was clear that she wasn’t completely successful. That could be seen from the way the new occupants of the cabin hesitated when they came through the door for the first time, looking about them, seeing Kazan, being only slightly reassured on finding Clary calmly sitting on the next bunk to his. And it went on as it had begun. None of the others spent any more time than they had to in Kazan’s company, and often during the sleep period a light would go on, and one of the people in the cabin would lean over the side of the bunk and stare down at Kazan as though to make sure he was genuinely asleep and not dead.
At first Clary had viewed these goings-on with real scorn. In her mind she classed Hego with the foolish but wealthy people who had sometimes sent into the Dyasthala to consult the so-called witches and wizards there. Everyone in the thieves’ quarter knew that their trances and oracles, their illusions and their speaking with tongues, were just another way of parting rich folk from their money, rating somewhere on the criminal scale between confidence trickery and the disguising of stolen goods for resale.
Then it gradually dawned on her, first, that many of what she regarded as her own people seemed to have
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