The foreman drew back a pace or two, temporarily satisfied with the work in progress, and Cugel came forward. “What intricate effort is this and what is its object?”
“The work is as you see,” replied the foreman in a voice of penetrating compass. “From natural rock we produce specified shapes, at the behest of the sorcerer Pharesm … Now then! Now then!” The cry was addressed to a man three feet taller than Cugel, who had been striking the stone with a pointed maul. “I detect overconfidence!” The forefinger shot forth. “Use great care at this juncture; note how the rock tends to cleave? Strike here a blow of the sixth intensity at the vertical, using a semi-clenched grip; at this point a fourth-intensity blow groin-wise; then employ a quarter-gauge bant-iron to remove the swange.”
With the work once more going correctly, he fell to studying his plans, shaking his head with a frown of dissatisfaction. “Much too slow! The craftsmen toil as if in a drugged torpor, or else display a mulish stupidity. Only yesterday Dadio Fessadil, he of three ells with the green kerchief yonder, used a nineteen-gauge feezing-bar to groove the bead of a small inverted quatrefoil.”
Cugel shook his head in surprise, as if never had he heard of so egregious a blunder. And he asked: “What prompts this inordinate rock-hewing?”
“I cannot say,” replied the foreman. “The work has been in progress three hundred and eighteen years, but during this time Pharesm has never clarified his motives. They must be pointed and definite, for he makes a daily inspection and is quick to indicate errors.” Here he turned aside to consult with a man as tall as Cugel’s knee, who voiced uncertainty as to the pitch of a certain volute. The foreman, consulting an index, resolved the matter; then he turned back to Cugel, this time with an air of frank appraisal. “You appear both astute and deft; would you care to take employment? We lack several craftsmen of the half-ell category, or, if you prefer more forceful manifestations, we can nicely use an apprentice stone-breaker of sixteen ells. Your stature is adjusted in either direction, there is identical scope for advancement. As you see I am a man of four ells. I reached the position of Striker in one year, Molder of Forms in three, Assistant Chade in ten, and I have now served as Chief Chade for nineteen years. My predecessor was of two ells, and the Chief Chade before him was a ten-ell man.” He went on to enumerate advantages of the work, which included sustenance, shelter, narcotics of choice, nympharium privileges, a stipend starting at ten terces a day, various other benefits including Pharesm’s services as diviner and exorciser. “Additionally, Pharesm maintains a conservatory where all may enrich their intellects. I myself take instruction in Insect Identification, the Heraldry of the Kings of Old Gomaz, Unison Chanting, Practical Catalepsy and Orthodox Doctrine. You will never find a master more generous than Pharesm the Sorcerer!”
Cugel restrained a smile for the Chief Chade’s enthusiasm; still, his stomach was roiling with hunger and he did not reject the proffer out of hand. “I had never before considered such a career,” he said. “You cite advantages of which I was unaware.”
“True; they are not generally known.”
“I cannot immediately say yes or no. It is a decision of consequence which I feel I should consider in all its aspects.”
The Chief Chade gave a nod of profound agreement. “We encourage deliberation in our craftsmen, when every stroke must achieve the desired effect. To repair an inaccuracy of as much as a fingernail’s width the entire block must be removed, a new block fitted into the socket of the old, whereupon all begins anew. Until the work has reached its previous stage nympharium privileges are denied to all. Hence, we wish no opportunistic or impulsive newcomers to the group.”
Firx, suddenly apprehending that Cugel proposed a delay, made representations of a most agonizing nature. Clasping his abdomen, Cugel took himself aside and while the Chief Chade watched in perplexity, argued heatedly with Firx. “How may I proceed without sustenance?” Firx’s response was an incisive motion of the barbs. “Impossible!” exclaimed Cugel. “The amulet of Iucounu theoretically suffices, but I can stomach no more spurge; remember, if I fall dead in the trail, you will never rejoin your comrade in Iucounu’s vats!”
Firx saw the justice of the argument and reluctantly became quiet. Cugel returned to the lectern, where the Chief Chade had been distracted by the discovery of a large tourmaline opposing the flow of a certain complicated helix. Finally Cugel was able to engage his attention. “While I weigh the proffer of employment and the conflicting advantages of diminution versus elongation, I will need a couch on which to recline. I also wish to test the perquisites you describe, perhaps for the period of a day or more.”
“Your prudence is commendable,” declared the Chief Chade. “The folk of today tend to commit themselves rashly to courses they later regret. It was not so in my youth, when sobriety and discretion prevailed. I will arrange for your admission into the compound, where you may verify each of my assertions. You will find Pharesm stern but just, and only the man who hacks the rock willy-nilly has cause to complain. But observe! here is Pharesm the Sorcerer on his daily inspection!”
Up the trail came a man of imposing stature wearing a voluminous white robe. His countenance was benign; his hair was like yellow down; his eyes were turned upward as if rapt in the contemplation of an ineffable sublimity. His arms were sedately folded, and he moved without motion of his legs. The workers, doffing their caps and bowing in unison, chanted a respectful salute, to which Pharesm returned an inclination of the head. Spying Cugel, he paused, made a swift survey of the work so far accomplished, then glided without haste to the lectern.
“All appears reasonably exact,” he told the Chief Chade. “I believe the polish on the underside of Epi-projection 56-16 is uneven and I detect a minute chip on the secondary cinctor of the nineteenth spire. Neither circumstance seems of major import and I recommend no disciplinary action.”
“The deficiencies shall be repaired and the careless artisans reprimanded: this at the very least!” exclaimed the Chief Chade in an angry passion. “Now I wish to introduce a possible recruit to our work-force. He claims no experience at the trade, and will deliberate before deciding to join our group. If he so elects, I envision the usual period as rubble-gatherer, before he is entrusted with tool-sharpening and preliminary excavation.”
“Yes; this would accord with our usual practice. However …” Pharesm glided effortlessly forward, took Cugel’s left hand and performed a swift divination upon the fingernails. His bland countenance became sober. “I see contradictions of four varieties. Still it is clear that your optimum bent lies elsewhere than in the hewing and shaping of rock. I advise that you seek another and more compatible employment.”
“Well spoken!” cried the Chief Chade. “Pharesm the Sorcerer demonstrates his infallible altruism! In order that I do not fall short of the mark I hereby withdraw my proffer of employment! Since no purpose can now be served by reclining upon a couch or testing the perquisites, you need waste no more irreplaceable time.”
Cugel made a sour face. “So casual a divination might well be inaccurate.”
The Chief Chade extended his forefinger thirty feet vertically in outraged remonstrance, but Pharesm gave a placid nod. “This is quite correct, and I will gladly perform a more comprehensive divination, though the process requires six to eight hours.”
“So long?” asked Cugel in astonishment.
“This is the barest minimum. First you are swathed head to foot in the intestines of fresh-killed owls, then immersed in a warm bath containing a number of secret organic substances. I must, of course, char the small toe of your left foot, and dilate your nose sufficiently to admit an explorer beetle, that he may study the conduits leading to and from your sensorium. But let us return to my divinatory, that we may commence the process in good time.”
Cugel pulled at his chin, torn this way and that. Finally he said, “I am a cautious man, and even must ponder the advisability of undertaking such a divination; hence, I will require several days of calm and meditative somnolence. Your compound and the adjacent nympharium appear to afford the conditions requisite to such a state; hence —”
Pharesm indulgently shook his head. “Caution, like any other virtue, can be carried to an extreme. The divination must proceed at once.”
Cugel attempted to argue further but Pharesm was adamant, and presently glided off down the trail.
Cugel disconsolately went to the side, considering first this stratagem, then that. The sun neared the zenith, and the workmen began to speculate as to the nature of the viands to be served for their mid-day meal. At last the Chief Chade signaled; all put down their tools and gathered about the cart which contained the repast.
Cugel jocularly called out that he might be persuaded to share the meal, but the Chief Chade would not hear of it. “As in all of Pharesm’s activities, an exactitude of consequence must prevail. It is an unthinkable discrepancy that fifty-four men should consume the food intended for fifty-three.”
Cugel could contrive no apposite reply, and sat in silence while the rock-hewers munched at meat pies, cheeses and salt fish. All ignored him save for one, a quarter-ell man whose generosity far exceeded his stature, and who undertook to reserve for Cugel a certain portion of his food. Cugel replied that he was not at all hungry, and rising to his feet wandered off through the project, hoping to discover some forgotten cache of food. He prowled here and there, but the rubble-gatherers had removed every trace of substance extraneous to the pattern. With appetite unassuaged Cugel arrived at the center of the work where, sprawled on a carved disk, he spied a most peculiar creature: essentially a gelatinous globe swimming with luminous particles from which a number of transparent tubes or tentacles dwindled away to nothing. Cugel bent to examine the creature, which pulsed with a slow internal rhythm. He prodded it with his finger, and bright little flickers rippled away from the point of contact. Interesting: a creature of unique capabilities!
Removing a pin from his garments, he prodded a tentacle, which emitted a peevish pulse of light, while the golden flecks in its substance surged back and forth. More intrigued than ever, Cugel hitched himself close, and gave himself to experimentation, probing here and there, watching the angry flickers and sparkles with great amusement.
A new thought occurred to Cugel. The creature displayed qualities reminiscent of both coelenterate and echinoderm. A terrene nudibranch? A mollusc deprived of its shell? More importantly, was the creature edible?
Cugel brought forth his amulet, applied it to the central globe and to each of the tentacles. He heard neither chime nor buzz: the creature was non-poisonous. He unsheathed his knife, sought to excise one of the tentacles, but found the substance too resilient and tough to be cut. There was a brazier nearby, kept aglow for forging and sharpening the workers’ tools. He lifted the creature by two of its tentacles, carried it to the brazier and arranged it over the fire. He toasted it carefully and when he deemed it sufficiently cooked, sought to eat it. Finally, after various undignified efforts, he crammed the entire creature down his throat, finding it without taste or sensible nutritive volume.
The stone-carvers were returning to their work. With a significant glance for the foreman Cugel set off down the trail.
Not far distant was the dwelling of Pharesm the Sorcerer: a long low building of melted rock surmounted by eight oddly shaped domes of copper, mica, and bright blue glass. Pharesm himself sat at leisure before the dwelling, surveying the valley with a serene and all-inclusive magnanimity. He held up a hand in calm salute. “I wish you pleasant travels and success in all future endeavors.”
“The sentiment is naturally valued,” said Cugel with some bitterness. “You might however have rendered a more meaningful service by extending a share of your noon meal.”
Pharesm’s placid benevolence was as before. “This would have been an act of mistaken altruism. Too fulsome a generosity corrupts the recipient and stultifies his resource.”
Cugel gave a bitter laugh. “I am a man of iron principle, and I will not complain, even though, lacking any better fare, I was forced to devour a great transparent insect which I found at the heart of your rock-carving.”
Pharesm swung about with a suddenly intent expression. “A great transparent insect, you say?”
“Insect, epiphyte, mollusc — who knows? It resembled no creature I have yet seen, and its flavor, even after carefully grilling at the brazier, was not distinctive.”
Pharesm floated seven feet into the air, to turn the full power of his gaze down at Cugel. He spoke in a low harsh voice: “Describe this creature in detail!”
Wondering at Pharesm’s severity, Cugel obeyed. “It was thus and thus as to dimension.” He indicated with his hands. “In color it was a gelatinous transparency shot with numberless golden specks. These flickered and pulsed when the creature was disturbed. The tentacles seemed to grow flimsy and disappear rather than terminate. The creature evinced a certain sullen determination, and ingestion proved difficult.”
Pharesm clutched at his head, hooking his fingers into the yellow down of his hair. He rolled his eyes upward and uttered a tragic cry. “Ah! Five hundred years I have toiled to entice this creature, despairing, doubting, brooding by night, yet never abandoning hope that my calculations were accurate and my great talisman cogent. Then, when finally it appears, you fall upon it for no other reason than to sate your repulsive gluttony!”
