Most magical of all were the sounds made by the profusion of bells and wind chimes that inhabited every house and shop, dangled from windows and rafters and projecting beams. The tinkling and clanging and bonging were audible even above the rush of the Aurang. There were bells of metal and ceramic, of glass and clay and wood, bone bells and stone chimes.
“Isn’t it magnificent, Etienne?” Behind Lyra Homat made an impolite noise while Etienne elected to reserve judgment. Alien beauty could be deceptive.
“Very aesthetic appearance,” he grudgingly admitted. But he found it hard to resist the multicolored town after the bland whites and yellows of Mai communities. It seemed as if every building in Turput was painted a different color. The town, like the air above it, was alive with rainbows.
They started down the ridge. As they neared the town they saw one could enter from any direction without encountering an obstruction. There was a single small gate, an afterthought of wooden logs and planks. One could walk around it as easily as through it. It also offered them their first Tsla.
Lyra and Etienne were not familiar with Tsla characteristics and so could not tell how old he was, but both scientists received an impression of age. In height he stood midway between Etienne’s and Lyra’s. The resemblance between Tsla and human, and for that matter between Tsla and Mai, ended there.
His toga-and-cape attire could not conceal the fact that he was covered everywhere save on the forearms and forelegs with a short, soft brown fur. The head rested on a neck that was curved forward, giving a false impression of age. Ears were short round stubs set atop the head. The six fingers were shorter and stubbier than those of Mai or human while the eyes displayed a dewy luster.
Most prominent of all the facial features was the quarter-meter long flexible snout like that of the terran tapir. It bobbed and dipped with an independent life of its own, no doubt conveying subtleties of expression discernible only to another Tsla. Twin nostrils were visible through the fur at the tip.
It strained Etienne’s laboriously memorized Tsla to translate the Tsla’s greeting. “I am Sau, Keeper of the Gate of Hospitality.” To Etienne’s relief the Tsla switched to fluent Mai. “Word of thy coming has preceded thee. You are the visitors said to come from another world.”
Lyra nodded sagely. Her affinity for languages reached far beyond Etienne’s, and she wasn’t hesitant about trying the local dialect. “We are they, Keeper. Your gate must be of hospitality, for it protects nothing but air.”
“A conceit.” The Tsla spread both hands to the air, showing bare skin up to the elbow. “Most visitors seem to expect a gate, so one was made. Higher towns than Turput have need of real gates. We do not.”
The language of the Tsla was slow and languorous, a startling contrast to the fast-paced singsong of the Mai. Etienne found himself impatient for the Keeper to continue.
“Thee are welcome here. We hope that thy visit will honor us.”
Polite, open, with none of the double meanings the Mai attached to such phrases of greeting. Despite his initial reservations Etienne found himself developing a fondness for the Tsla. There was a graciousness about this creature no Mai had displayed, not even the obsequious Ambassador Ror de-Kelwhoang of Po Rabi.
“Follow me and I will take you to a place of rest. Thy friends,” he added with a barely perceptible hint of distaste as he indicated the porters, “are also welcome.”
“Most generous of thee,” Lyra replied properly as the Tsla turned to lead them into the town.
Their escort kept up a fair pace, moving with deliberation so as not to tire the visitors. Instead of lifting each foot and then setting it ahead and down, the Tsla moved with a gait more shuffle and slide. The cape covering the creature’s broad back was dark brown split by a single yellow stripe running down the middle. This simple motif was present on the toga as well. Etienne found himself unexpectedly pleased by the sight of another intelligent creature with hair. Baldness was the norm not only among the Mai but the thranx as well.
After they entered the town, each Tsla they encountered marked their passage by duplicating the Keeper’s raising of hands, as if they were caressing the air. The Mai muttered among themselves and packed into a tight knot behind the humans. Etienne wondered at their paranoia, which was typically Mai. There was no suggestion of treachery here.
Clusters of Tsla children followed a polite distance behind, wiggling curious stubs of snouts as they took the scent of the peculiar strangers. Before too long the Keeper halted outside a long barnlike building with a gently curving roof. It resembled a broken olla set on its side against the earth.
“This is the Trade Place,” one of the porters said. “I was here once before, though I did not stay long.”
The Keeper beckoned them to enter. Inside it was dark and cool. Off to the right they found a row of interconnected chambers with skylights set into the curving ceiling. The glass was well-fashioned, with few bubbles. It was a good twenty degrees warmer in the room than it had been out in the hallway.
“For thy friends,” the Keeper announced, “and for thee as well if you so desire.”
“No, thanks.” Etienne watched the Mai pile joyfully into the big room and stand with their faces turned up to the sunlight. They divested themselves of their burdens without being told. “I think we’d prefer the type of room you use yourselves.”
“As thee wish.” The Keeper took them back out into the hall and led them farther into the building to a smaller room full of the aroma of fresh incense.
“If this suits thee, I must leave now.”
“It suits,” Etienne said.
Lyra was running a hand over the near wall. “Look at this, Etienne. The entire inside wall is glazed, like a big pot!”
He let his fingers touch the slick surface. “Watertight and cool in summer, reflects the heat of a fire in winter.” The single skylight did not trap the heat as did those in the porters’ room. A window at eyelevel allowed a view outside to the paved street.
After a time a second Tsla joined them. He was taller than the Keeper and stood a little straighter while still displaying the curved upper spine. He wore a similar toga and cape arrangement, but this one was black with two gold stripes dividing it.
“I am Tyl. I have the honor to be thy host and guide during thy visit to Turput.” He made no secret of his own curiosity regarding the strangers. “Anything thee wish thee have but to ask and if it can be provided it will.”
“We can’t stay long,” Etienne replied, choosing to ignore his wife’s radiant expression. She was in xenosociological heaven. “We left our boat down on the Skar and we have to return there soon.”
“Never mind that now. Tyl, we want to see everything we can. It’s true we have little time, but I want to learn as much as possible about thy people and their customs, their way of life. That is my job.”
“Worthy scholarship,” said Tyl. He had an unexpectedly deep voice that came rolling out in breathy, rounded syllables from beneath the flexible snout. “If thy time is constrained thee must listen close as well as look. Tomorrow, if arrangements can be made, I will take thee to the temple of Moraung Motau.”
“Maybe we’d like to see something else first.”
“Etienne! Don’t be impolite. You’ve been too long among the Mai. I swear, you’re starting to act like a riverfront merchant.”
He was too tired to bicker with her, simply turned away and examined the wall while she continued to converse with Tyl.
“If thee prefer,” their host said, “there is a little time left to the day. We could begin now.”
“Not on your—thy—life.” Etienne headed for a padded bench that obviously was designed to serve as a couch or bed or both. “I’m worn out.”
“Well I’m not,” Lyra snapped. “You may show me around if thee wish, Tyl.”
“My greatest honor.”
Etienne thought of a suitably sarcastic rejoinder but found it hard to find a reason for spiting the Tsla’s courtesy. He said nothing as they departed. The sound of chimes and bells was like a sedative and the couch-bed surprisingly comfortable. Before he knew it he was sound asleep.
