"Péng-shĭ Jiăo dí Wū Sī"
('The Wizard-Masters of Péng-shĭ Angle")
Original story written by FREDERIK POHL
Translated, from an unknown Chinese source,
back into English by F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre
i
Years ago this was the sort of situation that existed. Now pay attention. I won't repeat this.
There was an old man. Very evil. He was named KĒ-Gé-Lán,1 and he drove in a lead automobile to Péng-shĭ Angle. He was six chĕ2 seven cùn3 tall. He made many people look up.
Why was this? Well, because a lead automobile had not been seen before. Few people had seen a strange man appear. This was not a normal situation. This is the way Péng-shĭ Angle was years ago; it was a small place in the wilderness, and didn't have people coming inside. The place didn't have airplanes flying up above, or not for a long period of time: but just before KĒ-Gé-Lán the old man arrived, there were airplanes. When this happened the people became uncalm.
KĒ-Gé-Lán the old man had bright black eyes, and he wobbled. He got out of his automobile, and shut the door. The sound of the door was not like the Volkswagen-vehicle sounding kădōng, wasn't like the Buick5-vehicle sounding kèyuè. It was only heavy. Because I've already said it was very massive; it was made out of lead.
"Pardner!" In front of the Péng-shĭ Inn he called in a big-sound voice. "Come take my baggage!"
Chá-Lĭ Fú-Lín-Kè6 was the steward in there then—right, the government official. Of course, he was merely aged fifteen. He came out for KĒ-Gé-Lán's baggage, he had to circle four times round. The back of the automobile had a big gap, and thick windows.
While Chá-Lĭ hustle-hustled the baggage, KĒ-Gé-Lán walked roundabout in circles. He wink-winked at Mrs. Chŭ-Ji-Wù-Dé7, and watched young Kăi-Xī Fú-Lín-Tè.8 He nodded his head at the boys out front. He was truly a peculiar man, not half, acting as though he was the sort that belonged in there.
In front of the shop of Ān-Dí Gé-Lă-Mĭ-Sī,9 Ān-Dí leaned back in his chair. He moved his feet away from the door, so that his yellow dog could get out. "This person seems to be decent enough," he told Jié-Kè Tài-Yī.° (That's right, the real Jié-Kè Tài-Yī.)
Jié-Kè Tài-Yī stood within the doorway; he looked unhappy. He had much more knowledge about the situation than the other people inside here. Now was not the time to reveal it, so he merely said: "We haven't many strangers in this place."
Ān-Dí shrugged, pushed his body down in the chair. It was most warm beneath the sun.
"That's enough, Jié-Kè," he said, "Such strangers as he should be inside here. The town is truly ready for sleep." He yawned while speaking.
Jié-Kè Tài-Yī didn't stay with him; he had to get home, because he knew a great deal about the situation.
Notwithstanding, KĒ-Gé-Lán didn't hear them. If he had heard, he wouldn't be interested. KĒ-Gé-Lán the old man was greatly able, not caring what people said of him, nor what was said of his sort. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to be like that.
Thus, he entered the Péng-shĭ Inn. "I demand a suite of rooms, pardner!" He spoke in a large voice. "Want the best of all. Want one in which I can be very comfortable, truly secure."
"Good, sir. You are called—?"
"KĒ-Gé-Lán, pardner! Āi-Dé-Suŏ-Ěr11T. KĒ-Gé-Lán. There's a conceited name at both ends, because having them makes me conceited!"
"Of course, Mr. KĒ-Gé-Lán. Coming right up. Now I'll look." He looked at his rooms list, even though he knew that except for WĒi-Ěr-Màn-Yī-Shĭ,12 and Mr. Kă-Péng-Tè13 because his wife was angry, there weren't any people inside. He pushed out his lips. He spoke: "Oh, supremely good! The honeymoon suite is now empty, Mr. KĒ-Gé-Lán. I'm certain you'll find it a very comfortable place. Of course, each day is costing eight-fifty."
"You say the honeymoon suite, pardner?" KĒ-Gé-Lán like a swordsman took the pen from inside its pen-case. With a white head seeming like an old tiger he grinned.
This truly had reason for laughter, isn't that right? He had taken the honeymoon suite. That was indeed supremely laughworthy.
Unless people really got married, few of them had reason to take the Péng-shĭ Inn honeymoon suite. For KĒ-Gé-Lán, you only had to look-to-see him to know that he was already many years from marriage—nowhere near it, he was years from marriage; being so tall, with bright eyes, not bending, yet he was unable to get married. He was already having age of eighty. You could see this by his wrinkled skin and hands.
The rooms clerk made a noise for Chá-Lĭ Fú-Lín-Kè. "We are pleased with your presence here, Mr. KĒ-Gé-Lán," he said. "Chá-Lĭ will bring your baggage up. You are planning to stay long?"
KĒ-Gé-Lán made a big laugh-sound. This was a calm and steady person laughing. "Right," he said. "Want to stay quite long."
Now, when KĒ-Gé-Lán was alone in the honeymoon suite, what did he do?
Well, first he paid a ten-spot for the bringing of the bags. This surprised Chá-Lĭ Fú-Lín-Kè, to receive a tenner. He didn't generally encounter people doing such. He left, and Kē-Gé-Lán was delighted to close the door.
Kē-Gé-Lán was very happy.
He peered round, laughing like a wolf. He looked at the lavatory with its white enamel tiling. "Very good," he said in a quiet voice. He used the electric lights, switching them on, switching them off. "Supremely having interest," he said. "The hand must be used." He went into the drawing room, which had a nine-branched lamp with six light bulbs, manufactured of the very best glass. Of the six only a couple were in the center. "Truly beautiful-good," Mr. Kē-Gé-Lán couldn't help laughing. "Yet it is very-extremely good."
Naturally, you know what he was thinking about. He was thinking of the big cavern-insides and the big machine-devices. He was thinking of the design-shift-testers14 and the use-bomb-power-places. He thought of the self-holding-primary-mines and the connected dispersal channels. But now I'm in front of the situation. Now is not when these matters should be discussed. So none of you should ask.
Notwithstanding, the old man Kē-Gé-Lán looked roundabout, and he opened his own luggage.
He sat in front of a desk.
From inside his pocket he took a Kleenex,15 and very fussily he picked up the blotter pad and dropped it.
He put the bag up on the not-have-cover desk, opened it, and put it against the wall.
You haven't seen a bag of such appearance! I insist that it looked like a sort of electrical worker's bag. Its back was a panel of Lucite plastic, with sparks and stars in its face. This looked bright-glitter-glitter. The front had a cathode-ray tube. Had a sweep-trace-device, a microphone, and a loudspeaker. All of this, having very much more. Why do I know all this? Of course, it's ail written up in a book entitled ‹‹Péng-shĭ Great Hall Eighteen Years›› made by V. P. Fú-Lín-Kè. Because Chá-Lĭ was eavesdropping and the door had a keyhole.
So the situation produced a bell-sound tinkle-tinkle, and the cathode-ray tube glimmered and lit up.
"Kē-Gé-Lán," the big old man said loudly. "Making contact. Let me speak a word with V. P.-Mă-FĒi-Dài."16