The Great Hydration

The Crome’s lustrous black eyes shone. “We Crome are not so foolish,” he said. “We fear the Analane not at all, whatever weapons they procure. Besides, to commit this offence would risk the expulsion of my entire race from the market! Would I be so rash?” His green arm stabbed out at the Analane, his finger pointing. “I will suggest a more evident truth, market masters. The Analane had nothing with which to trade in the first place. This accusation of theirs is a ruse to bring the Crome into disfavour. They think it will somehow save their tribe from the annihilation which is their due!”

“It is indeed improbable that anyone would dare to steal on ground hallowed by the Tlixix,” Rherrsherrsh declared. Water sploshed and he reared intimidatingly over the humanoids. “What is the nature of this supposed invention?”

Hrityu hesitated. But he realized he had little choice but to reveal all.

“We call it a radiator. Through it, any sound including the spoken word can be conveyed for a distance of up to one hundred langs.”

There was silence, until the second Tlixix hoarsed into the conversation. “Useful perhaps if one is a hundred langs away. But is not such a vast noise unduly painful for anyone closer by?”

“The sounds are not made any louder,” Hrityu explained patiently. “They are heard only by whoever possesses a receiving apparatus. That is what makes the invention so useful, since messages sent that way are heard only by one’s friends and allies.”

Rherrsherrsh turned to his companion. “Is that possible?” he husked.

“I doubt it,” the other replied in a gravelly tone. He addressed Hrityu. “How does it work?”

Hrityu dithered, wondering how to put over so technical a matter. Kurwer came to his rescue.

“It creates sound of a subtle kind, which the ears cannot hear,” he said. “We call it radiation. It is far-reaching, like sunlight.”

“One can see it, then? See it but not hear it?”

Kurwer replied slowly, after a pause. “No, one cannot see it.”

The pattering of water was the only sound to be heard. Hrityu rubbed his eyes, which the humidity had made sore.

The Crome chuckled. “If these Analane could invent machinery as well as they invent lies then we Crome might indeed have something to fear! Sound that cannot be heard, because it is light—except that it cannot be seen! Such soundless, invisible light describes their machine very well, because neither of them exist!”

Suddenly Rherrsherrsh turned to Nussmussa the Toureen. “Is it true you made an offer for this device?”

“Yes, Market Master.”

“Did you see it in operation?”

Nussmussa glanced at the Analane fretfully. “No, I did not. I did not see it at all, and the bargain was agreed only in principle. They took me to see the device, but it was not there.”

“More trickery!” the Crome jeered. “They duped this poor creature from a distant land so as to lend their story a semblance of credibility!”

“The radiator is real!” Kurwer burst out. “Our enemy the Crome stole it!”

Hrityu realized how badly the exchange was going. “Market Master,” he stuttered, “this device could be of great use to the Tlixix. It would enable messages to be passed instantly between the water refuges. We would gladly donate it in return for protection.”

“Then why did you not offer it to the Tlixix?” Rherrsherrsh retorted, with thunderous hoarseness.

Hrityu could not find a reply. The idea had been considered, but though the Tlixix liked to promulgate the idea that they could control all wars in the world, it was doubtful if their word alone could actually prevent one. The elders of the Analane had decided that the most likely outcome of such an offer was that the Tlixix would appropriate the device and then encourage the extermination of the Analane to give themselves a monopoly of it.

The two masters conferred together in rustles and clicks, faces almost touching, placed wetly against the fabric of their water-tents. Then Rherrsherrsh swung back to loom over the humanoids.

“There is too little evidence to support either version of events,” he husked. “The defence offered by the Crome, however, is more plausible than the complaint laid by the Analane, and we find in favour of the Crome. The making of a false accusation infringes the laws of the market. The race of the Analane is barred from dealing here henceforth.”

“That’s not fair!” Kurwer cried out.

The massive crustacean head, ancient and hoary, bent low over the Analane. This was the first time they had seen a Tlixix so close. The wet shell, the four tiny, white, expressionless eyes, the ever-restless feelers and whiskers, presented a vision that struck them both to the bone.

“We—we must be given time to search for our machine!” Hrityu stuttered. “To prove that it exists!”

The Tlixix deliberated. “Three days are allowed for that Purpose. The Gamintes, too, are ordered to search for the supposed apparatus during that time. To that end you will give them a complete physical description—if you can.”