Land of Unreason (21 page)

            The answer was glib as ever
and the tone unchanged, but a red light burned within Barber's mind, signifying
"lie." Not surprising; he had heard of programs of enforced leisure
before, only usually they were called something else.

            They wound through alleys of
tall reed trunks, like the pillars of Karnak, till they reached a wall which
stretched up and sidewise to the limit of vision. The leading leech whistled,
up scale and down, and a section of the wall sprang open without visible
agency. Behind it was another wall, with a narrow slit through which an eye
scrutinized them suspiciously before this wall too, opened, but in a different
place. Beyond it the guiding leech whistled again, another tune, before a third
wall—and then came another and another and another, alternately guarded by eye
and ear, till Barber lost count.

            "For a model
community," he remarked, "you take unusual care in matters of
fortification."

            "We must protect
ourselves from the jealousy of our neighbors. An enlightened and progressive
nation is always an island in the midst of a sea of enemies."

            A last well opened to reveal
an immense plaza where reed trunks grew from the bottom, but in strict
geometrical rows with open spaces between. Many more leeches were in sight, all
alike as eggs, and all furiously busy. Just to the left of the gate a group of
three were building a narrow tower of bricks. One brought the bricks from a
pile, a second sat at the top of the tower, hauling them up in a basket, while
the third laid the bricks. Barber observed that the tower was not really a
tower, but a solid, square monolith without openings or exterior features. -

            "What's that for?"
he asked his guide.

            "I don't know, sir, but
it has social importance or it would not have been ordered by our Boss. In
enlightened ages all the public works have social importance. Foreigners should
not inquire into the actions of the co-operative state without full knowledge
of their ultimate social purpose."

            It was the same rapid flow of
sententious vocables as before, like a lesson learned by rote, but the last
sentence was subtly tinged with insolence—now they were inside the walls.
Barber glanced at him sharply. "The purpose is what I was trying to find
out," he observed. "May I ask the workers?"

            The four leeches drew apart
and consulted, whisper, whisper again, and their leader came back. "Unlike
the decadent feudalisms, Hirudia has nothing to hide. We shall be glad to have
you ask any worker anything."

            The next time the brick carrier
appeared with his hod, Barber inquired: "Beg pardon, but could you tell me
what this brick thing is?"

            The leech leaned his hod
against the tower and began heaving bricks into the basket at a furious rate,
whipping out a word or two at a time between heaves: "Cultural—object,
sir—ordered by—the Boss."

            Barber's four guides had
clustered round to listen with an intentness that was almost painful, their
heads stretched forward and cocked to one side. Now they exchanged smiles.

            "But why are you doing
the work?" persisted Barber.

            "Because—I love—the
Boss—would die—for him—we all—love him—excuse please." The leech had
emptied the hod and filled the basket, and now trotted off. He had certainly
lied; never had Barber's new sixth sense given him a clearer warning. But
never, either, had there been a more bewilderingly complete lack of use for the
knowledge. He decided he had been mistaken about the resemblance to the
kobolds. At least that lot had been enjoying themselves.

            Behind a row of the stately
columns two piles of gravel lay on the bottom, several yards apart. A couple of
leeches were at work on these while a third supervised. The two laborers each
had a wheelbarrow and a shovel, and one was at either pile. At the supervisor's
"Hup!" each would fill his wheelbarrow as fast as possible; with
another "Hup!" they started toward each other's piles, pushing the
barrows ahead of them. As they passed in mid-course the supervisor smiled,
saying no more till each leech had emptied his wheelbarrow on the other's pile
and raced back to his own for a repetition of the process.

            It made even less sense, if
possible, than the construction of the eyeless tower, and Barber watched the
procedure for some minutes in an effort to find the key. But the routine never varied.
Finally, as one of the leeches passed, Barber was driven to ask him what it was
all about.

            The green-and-brown mannikin
continued its gallop, so that Barber had to trot back and forth beside it as it
jerked out: "Aesthetic—pursuit—orders of—the Boss."

            "I don't see anything
very aesthetic about it," said Barber honestly.

            They had reached the end of
the run, and the wheelbarrow man had a moment's respite before the next
"Hup." He turned a stricken face to Barber and said rapidly:
"There isn't. You frogs know—you're artists. Help me get out of—"

            "Hup!"

            The leech's eyes leaped over
Barber's shoulder, his face set in lines of fear, and he began to shovel
frantically, panting out words: "Glad we—have—opportunity—for
artistic—expression—unlike outworn—communities—our Boss—patron of—the
arts." Barber turned and almost ran into two of the guides, who were
gazing past him at the laborer, their permanent smiles twisted into peculiarly
malevolent grins.

            One of them took him by
either arm. "This way, sir," they said in chorus. They had led him
perhaps fifty yards farther down the plaza, when a short shriek behind made him
turn round, the wheelbarrow of the leech with whom he had been conversing lay
on its side with the gravel spilled. Of the individual there was no sign.

            "What became of
him?" asked Barber.

            "He was tired,"
said one of the escorts smoothly, "so he was relieved, and sent on a
vacation. Our Boss is aware of something the decadent communities have never
learned; that labor is entitled to adequate recreational facilities." It
was false as hell, and Barber knew it. He was getting pretty tired of glorious
Hirudia, which seemed to have been developed on a pattern entirely too
familiar.

            He said: "I'd like very
much to see more of your city, but this is more of a business trip than a visit
for me. When can I see your Boss?"

            "We're taking you to
him," said one of the guides. At this end of the plaza, the reed columns
were spaced wider, and through them there became visible buildings of a
cyclopean architecture, flat, fat and squatty. They drew in till the plaza ended
in a square arch at the door of one; Barber was conducted into a passage, round
a turn, up one ramp and down another. Beyond was a smaller plaza and more
overstuffed buildings, and so on, till he quite lost orientation. In one of
these places they came to a halt, while one of the leeches went into a blocky
structure.

            In a surprisingly short time
he was back. "The Boss is holding an important conference. Will the
gentleman come with us to the place of attendance?"

            "What's that?"
demanded Barber, his suspicions now unappeasably aroused.

            "The place where
gentlemen who wish to see the Boss wait," purred the leech. "In
Hirudia everything is done systematically."

            "How long do they have
to wait?"

            "Very little
time." (Lie.) "Every comfort will be at your disposal" (Lie)
"and you may leave to conduct other business whenever you wish."
(Lie.)

            "Sorry," said
Barber. "Convey my respects to your Boss and say that I regretted not
having seen him, but I had business that couldn't wait. Which is the quickest
way out of here?"

            "Oh!" said all
four leeches together. "You don't want to leave Hirudia! You haven't seen
half of it! You want to come with us to the place of attendance."

            "No," said Barber.
"I know what I want, and that is to get out of here. Will you
please—"

            The leeches interrupted:
"Sir, it is contrary to regulations and good sense for anyone to leave
Hirudia until he fully understands it."

            "You cannot understand
beautiful Hirudia in a few minutes."

            "Perhaps he's socially
underdeveloped."

            "Needs instruction."

            Barber pointed at random. He
barked: "Is that the way out?"

            "No," said a
leech. Barber knew it was a lie, and set off in the direction indicated. The
leeches followed him, yammering that he was being impulsive instead of
reasonable; that he didn't want* to leave Hirudia; that he hadn't seen ...

            Other leeches swarmed out of
the buildings and joined the procession till there were dozens of them around
and beside him, all talking at once. One worked up courage enough to grab
Barber's arm. He shook the flaccid hand off angrily. The clamor grew louder.

            "You can't get away,
sir!" they cried. "Why try?"

            "You'll only cause a
lot of fuss, and somebody will get hurt."

            "Send for the
Symptosites."

            "Anything is better
than having trouble and people getting hurt, isn't it?"

            "Honestly, we're nice
fellows, not so different from you; why not join us?"

            "This is really your
big chance to learn about Hirudia; it's expanding to take over the whole river
in time, and you might much better join us now, when it's easy."

            "When you really
understand us, you won't want to leave."

            "Don't cause a
commotion, sir, please! It's so uncivilized."

            "You ought to be so
happy over the chance to get in step with the new Laws of the Pool."

            "Here's a fair warning
—if you provoke us to the use of force it will be all your fault."

            "Isn't he stupid? He
thinks he can get away from all of us together."

            Oh, to hell with this
babble, thought Barber. He could still swim. He flexed his muscles and took
off, rising over the leeches' heads and the featureless pediments of their
buildings. A powerful leg kick sent him in the direction where he hoped the
exit was, cursing himself for never being able to remember turns.

            A bend to avoid a reed
column gave him a glance rearward. The leeches were coming along behind, all
right, with an undulating stroke, swimming fast, though not as fast as he was.

            Something went Bong, Bong,
slowly and with decision. More leeches appeared, swarming up from all
directions out of the boxlike buildings. Barber dodged round a tower that
reared itself above the rest, and found two right in his path, vacuous mouths
open, arms spread to catch him. He gave another leg-stroke and at the same
moment swung at the nearer; fist met jaw with soulful violence, and he felt the
flimsy bones crumble. "Left hook!" he shouted for no reason, as the
other leech dodged, wrapped itself around his leg and began to chew his calf. A
kick flung it loose; beneath him legions of leeches were streaming up with
outstretched arms, while the two he had disposed of drifted away, belly-up.

            Yet that brief delay had
given those ahead time to get past his level, and now as Barber looked, he
perceived he was the center of a sphere of leeches. They were closing in with
evident reluctance, but closing. Where was the exit? The sphere seemed denser
at one side; that was probably it, they would concentrate to keep him in. He
charged in that direction. One leech, braver than the rest, stood straight
across his path. He butted it amidships, and from the tail of his eye saw it
turn belly-up as he kicked and punched his way through the soft, clutching
things.