Free Trullion: Alastor 2262 by Jack Vance Page B

bit. In fact, will you stay for a bite of dinner? I’m quite alone tonight, and I detest dining in solitude.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Lord Gensifer, but I’m hardly dressed for dinner at a manor.”
    Lord Gensifer made a deprecatory motion. “Tonight we’ll dine informally-although I could lend you formal kit, if you insisted.” “
    Well, no. I am not that meticulous, if you’re not.”
    “Tonight we’ll dine as we are. Perhaps you’d like to watch more of the championship game.” “As a matter of fact, I would.” “Good. Rallo! Fresh punch! This has lost its zest.”
    The great oval dinner table was set for two. Lord Gensifer and Glinnes faced each other across the expanse of white linen; silver and crystal glittered under the blaze of a chandelier. “It may seem strange to you,” said Lord Gensifer, “that I can live in what might seem extravagant style and still be strapped for cash. But it’s simple enough. My income derives from invested capital, and I’ve had reverses. Starmenters looted a pair of warehouses and set my company back on its heels. Strictly temporary, of course, but for the moment my income just barely matches my outgo. Do you know of Bela Gazzardo?”
    “I’ve heard the name. A starmenter?” “The villain who cut my income in half. The Whelm can’t seem to come to grips with him.”
    “Sooner or later he’ll be taken. Only inconspicuous starmenters survive. When they attain reputation their number is up.”
    “Bela Gazzardo’s been starmenting for many years,” said Lord Gensifer. “The Whelm is always in a different sector.”
    “Sooner or later he’ll be taken.”
    Dinner proceeded, a repast of a dozen excellent courses, each accompanied by flasks of fine wine. Glinnes reflected that life in a manor was not without its pleasant aspects, and his fancy roamed the future, when he had earned twenty or thirty thousand ozols, or a hundred thousand, and Lute Casagave had been expelled from Ambal Isle and the manse was empty. Then, what an adventure to renew, redecorate, refurnish! Glinnes saw himself in stately garments entertaining a throng of notables at a table like Lord Gensifer*s
    Glinnes laughed at the thought. Who would he invite to his dinner parties? Akadie? Young Harrad? Carbo Gilweg? The Drossets? Though for a fact Duissane would look extraordinarily lovely in such surroundings. Glinnes’ imagination included the rest of the family and the picture burst.Dusk had long since waned when Glinnes finally climbed into his boat. The night was clear; overhead hung a myriad stars, magnified to the size of lamps. Elevated by the wine, by the large prospects that Lord Gensifer had suggested, by the ‘ halcyon beauty of starlight on calm black water, Glinnes sent, his boat scudding across Fleharish Broad and up Selma; Water.
    Under the glorious Trullion night his problems dissolved into wisps of unreasonable petulance. Glay and Fanscherade? A fad, an antic, a trifle. Marucha and her foolishness? Let her be, let her be; what better occupation lay; open to her? Lord Gensifer and his crafty proposals?
    They might just eventuate as Lord Gensifer hoped! But the absurdity of it all! Instead of borrowing nine thousand ozols, he had barely escaped with his own three thousand intact! Lord Gensifer’s schemes no doubt derived from a desperate need of money, thought Glinnes. No matter how affable and how ostensibly candid, Lord Gensifer was still a man to be dealt with most carefully.
    Up narrow Selma Water drifted the boat, past hushberry brakes and bowers of soft white lanting, then out upon Ambal Broad, where a small breeze shivered the star-reflections into a tinkling twinkling carpet. To the right stood Ambal Isle, surmounted by fanzaneel frond-clusters; they lay on the sky like splashes of black ink. And there ahead-Rabendary Island, dear Rabendary, and his home dock. The house showed no light. Was no one at home? Where was Marucha? Visiting friends, most likely.
    The boat