Sjambak Page 3

the words."

  "We've got our own picture of what's going on. We ask for it, we get it.It builds up and up--and finally we're like mice in a trap built of ourown ideas. We cannibalize our own brains."

  "Nobody'll ever accuse you of being stingy with a metaphor."

  "Sam, let's have the truth. How many times have you been off Earth?"

  "I went to Mars once. And I spent a couple of weeks at Aristillus Resorton the Moon."

  Frayberg leaned back in his chair as if shocked. "And we're supposed tobe a couple of learned planetologists!"

  Catlin made grumbling noise in his throat. "I haven't been around thezodiac, so what? You sneezed a few minutes ago and I said _gesundheit_,but I don't have any doctor's degree."

  "There comes a time in a man's life," said Frayberg, "when he wants totake stock, get a new perspective."

  "Relax, Howard, relax."

  "In our case it means taking out our preconceived ideas, looking atthem, checking our illusions against reality."

  "Are you serious about this?"

  "Another thing," said Frayberg, "I want to check up a little. Shifkinsays the expense accounts are frightful. But he can't fight it. WhenKeeler says he paid ten munits for a loaf of bread on Nekkar IV, who'sgonna call him on it?"

  "Hell, let him eat bread! That's cheaper than making a safari around thecluster, spot-checking the super-markets."

  Frayberg paid no heed. He touched a button; a three-foot sphere full ofglistening motes appeared. Earth was at the center, with thin red lines,the scheduled space-ship routes, radiating out in all directions.

  "Let's see what kind of circle we can make," said Frayberg. "Gower'shere at Canopus, Keeler's over here at Blue Moon, Wilbur Murphy's atSirgamesk ..."

  "Don't forget," muttered Catlin, "we got a show to put on."

  "We've got material for a year," scoffed Frayberg. "Get hold ofSpace-Lines. We'll start with Sirgamesk, and see what Wilbur Murphy's upto."

  * * * * *

  Wilbur Murphy was being presented to the Sultan of Singhalut by thePrince Ali-Tomas. The Sultan, a small mild man of seventy, satcrosslegged on an enormous pink and green air-cushion. "Be at your ease,Mr. Murphy. We dispense with as much protocol here as practicable." TheSultan had a dry clipped voice and the air of a rather harassedcorporation executive. "I understand you represent Earth-Central HomeScreen Network?"

  "I'm a staff photographer for the _Know Your Universe!_ show."

  "We export a great deal to Earth," mused the Sultan, "but not as much aswe'd like. We're very pleased with your interest in us, and naturally wewant to help you in every way possible. Tomorrow the Keeper of theArchives will present a series of charts analyzing our economy.Ali-Tomas shall personally conduct you through the fish-hatcheries. Wewant you to know we're doing a great job out here on Singhalut."

  "I'm sure you are," said Murphy uncomfortably. "However, that isn'tquite the stuff I want."

  "No? Just where do your desires lie?"

  Ali-Tomas said delicately. "Mr. Murphy took a rather profound interestin the sjambak displayed in the square."

  "Oh. And you explained that these renegades could hold no interest forserious students of our planet?"

  Murphy started to explain that clustered around two hundred millionscreens tuned to _Know Your Universe!_ were four or five hundred millionparticipants, the greater part of them neither serious nor students. TheSultan cut in decisively. "I will now impart something trulyinteresting. We Singhalusi are making preparations to reclaim four morevalleys, with an added area of six hundred thousand acres! I shall putmy physiographic models at your disposal; you may use them to thefullest extent!"

  "I'll be pleased for the opportunity," declared Murphy. "But tomorrowI'd like to prowl around the valley, meet your people, observe theircustoms, religious rites, courtships, funerals ..."

  The Sultan pulled a sour face. "We are ditch-water dull. Festivals arecelebrated quietly in the home; there is small religious fervor;courtships are consummated by family contract. I fear you will findlittle sensational material here in Singhalut."

  "You have no temple dances?" asked Murphy. "No fire-walkers,snake-charmers--voodoo?"

  The Sultan smiled patronizingly. "We came out here to Cirgamesc toescape the ancient superstitions. Our lives are calm, orderly. Even the_amoks_ have practically disappeared."

  "But the sjambaks--"

  "Negligible."

  "Well," said Murphy, "I'd like to visit some of these ancient cities."

  "I advise against it," declared the Sultan. "They are shards, weatheredstone. There are no inscriptions, no art. There is no stimulation indead stone. Now. Tomorrow I will hear a report on hybrid soybeanplantings in the Upper Kam District. You will want to be present."

  * * * * *

  Murphy's suite matched or even excelled his expectation. He had fourrooms and a private garden enclosed by a thicket of bamboo. His bathroomwalls were slabs of glossy actinolite, inlaid with cinnabar, jade,galena, pyrite and blue malachite, in representations of fantasticbirds. His bedroom was a tent thirty feet high. Two walls were darkgreen fabric; a third was golden rust; the fourth opened upon theprivate garden.

  Murphy's bed was a pink and yellow creation ten feet square, soft ascobweb, smelling of rose sandalwood. Carved black lacquer tubs heldfruit; two dozen wines, liquors, syrups, essences flowed at a touch fromas many ebony spigots.

  The garden centered on a pool of cool water, very pleasant in thehothouse climate of Singhalut. The only shortcoming was the lack of thelovely young servitors Murphy had envisioned. He took it upon himself torepair this lack, and in a shady wine-house behind the palace, calledthe Barangipan, he made the acquaintance of a girl-musician named SoekPanjoebang. He found her enticing tones of quavering sweetness from the_gamelan_, an instrument well-loved in Old Bali. Soek Panjoebang had thedelicate features and transparent skin of Sumatra, the supple long limbsof Arabia and in a pair of wide and golden eyes a heritage fromsomewhere in Celtic Europe. Murphy bought her a goblet of frozenshavings, each a different perfume, while he himself drank whiterice-beer. Soek Panjoebang displayed an intense interest in the ways ofEarth, and Murphy found it hard to guide the conversation. "Weelbrrr,"she said. "Such a funny name, Weelbrrr. Do you think I could play the_gamelan_ in the great cities, the great palaces of Earth?"

  "Sure. There's no law against _gamelans_."

  "You talk so funny, Weelbrrr. I like to hear you talk."

  "I suppose you get kinda bored here in Singhalut?"

  She shrugged. "Life is pleasant, but it concerns with little things. Wehave no great adventures. We grow flowers, we play the _gamelan_." Sheeyed him archly sidelong. "We love.... We sleep...."

  Murphy grinned. "You run _amok_."

  "No, no, no. That is no more."

  "Not since the sjambaks, eh?"

  "The sjambaks are bad. But better than _amok_. When a man feels the knotforming around his chest, he no longer takes his kris and runs down thestreet--he becomes sjambak."

  This was getting interesting. "Where does he go? What does he do?"

  "He robs."

  "Who does he rob? What does he do with his loot?"

  She leaned toward him. "It is not well to talk of them."

  "Why not?"

  "The Sultan does not wish it. Everywhere are listeners. When one talkssjambak, the Sultan's ears rise, like the points on a cat."

  "Suppose they do--what's the difference? I've got a legitimate interest.I saw one of them in that cage out there. That's torture. I want to knowabout it."

  "He is very bad. He opened the monorail car and the air rushed out.Forty-two Singhalusi and Hadrasi bloated and blew up."

  "And what happened to the sjambak?"

  "He took all the gold and money and jewels and ran away."

  "Ran where?"

  "Out across Great Pharasang Plain. But he was a fool. He came back toSinghalut for his wife; he was caught and set up for all people to lookat, so they m
ight tell each other, 'thus it is for sjambaks.'"

  "Where do the sjambaks hide out?"

  "Oh," she looked vaguely around the room, "out on the plains. In themountains."

  "They must have some shelter--an air-dome."

  "No. The Sultan would send out his patrol-boat and destroy them. Theyroam quietly. They hide among the rocks and tend their oxygen stills.Sometimes they visit the old