Authors: The Cyberiad [v1.0] [htm]
"Though by that time both he and
the money would be gone," observed Klapaucius.
"Shouldn't we report him to the
Main Office?"
"Not just yet. He may not be
doing this, after all. We have no real proof. Statistical
fluctuations can occur without an amplifier; at one time, you know,
there were neither amplifiers nor phantasmatrons, yet dragons
did appear. Purely on a random basis."
"True…" replied
Trurl. "But
these
appear immediately after he arrives
on the planet!"
"I know. Still, reporting a
fellow constructor—it just isn't done. Though there's no reason
we can't take measures of our own."
"No reason at all."
"I'm glad you agree. But what
exactly should we do?"
At this point the two famous
dracologists got into a discussion so technical, that anyone
listening in wouldn't have been able to make head or tail of it.
There were such mysterious words as "discontinuous
orthodragonality." "grand draconical ensembles."
"high-frequency binomial fafneration." "abnormal
saurian distribution." "discrete dragons." "indiscrete
dragons." "drasticodracostochastic control." "simple
Grendelian dominance." "weak interaction dragon
diffraction." "aberrational reluctance."
"informational figmentation," and so on.
The upshot of all this penetrating
analysis was the third sally, for which the constructors prepared
most carefully, not failing to load their ship with a quantity of
highly complicated devices.
In particular they took along a
scatter-scrambler and a special gun that fired negative heads. After
landing on Eenica, then on Meenica, then finally on Mynamoaca, they
realized it would be impossible to comb the whole infested area in
this way and they would have to split up. This was most easily done,
obviously, by separating; so after a brief council of war each set
out on his own. Klapaucius worked for a spell on Prestopondora for
the Emperor Maximillion, who was prepared to offer him his daughter's
hand in marriage if only he would get rid of those vile beasts.
Dragons of the highest probability were everywhere, even in the
streets of the capital, and the place literally swarmed with
virtuals. A virtual dragon, the uneducated and simple-minded might
say, "isn't really there," having no observable substance
nor displaying the least intention of acquiring any; but the
Cybr-Trurl-Klapaucius-Leech calculation (not to mention the
Drachendranginger wave equation) clearly shows that a dragon can jump
from configurational to real space with no more effort than it takes
to jump off a cliff. Thus, in any room, cellar or attic, provided the
probability is high, you could meet with a dragon or possibly even a
metadragon.
Instead of chasing after the beasts,
which would have accomplished little or nothing, Klapaucius, a true
theoretician, approached the problem methodically; in squares and
promenades, in barns and hostels he placed probabilistic
battery-run dragon dampers, and in no time at all the beasts were
extremely rare. Collecting his fee, plus an honorary degree and an
engraved loving cup, Klapaucius blasted off to rejoin his friend. On
the way, he noticed a planet and someone waving to him frantically.
Thinking it might be Trurl in some sort of trouble, he landed. But it
was only the inhabitants of Trufffandria, the subjects of King
Pfftius, gesticulating. The Trufflandrians held to various
superstitions and primitive beliefs; their religion, Pneumatological
Dracolatry, taught that dragons appeared as a divine retribution for
their sins and took possession of all unclean souls. Quickly
realizing it would be useless to enter into a discussion with
the royal dracologians—their methods consisted primarily of
waving censers and distributing sacred relics—Klapaucius
instead conducted soundings of the outlying terrain. These
revealed the planet was occupied by only one beast, but that beast
belonged to the terrible genus of Echidnosaurian hypervipers. He
offered the King his services. The King, however, answered in a
vague, roundabout fashion, evidently under the influence of that
ridiculous doctrine which would have the origin of dragons be somehow
supernatural. Perusing the local newspapers, Klapaucius learned
that the dragon terrorizing the planet was considered by some to be a
single thing, and by others, a multiplex creature that could operate
in several locations at the same time. This gave him pause—though
it wasn't so surprising really, when you considered that the
localization of these odious phenomena was subject to so-called
dragonomalies, in which certain specimens, particularly when
abstracted, underwent a "smearing" effect, which was in
reality nothing more than a simple isotopic spin acceleration of
asynchronous quantum moments. Much as a hand, emerging from the water
fingers-first, appears above the surface in the form of five
seemingly separate and independent items, so do dragons,
emerging from the lairs of their configurational space, on occasion
appear to be plural, though in point of fact they are quite singular.
Towards the end of his second audience with the King, Klapaucius
inquired if perhaps Trurl were on the planet and gave a detailed
description of his comrade. He was astonished to hear that yes,
his comrade had only recently visited their kingdom and had even
undertaken to exorcise the monster, had in fact accepted a retainer
and departed for the neighboring mountains where the monster had been
most frequently sighted. Had then returned the next day, demanding
the rest of his fee and presenting four and twenty dragon's teeth as
proof of his success. There was some misunderstanding, however,
and it was decided to withhold payment until the matter was
fully cleared up. At which Trurl flew into a rage and in a loud voice
made certain comments about His Royal Highness that were perilously
close to lese majesty if not treason, then stormed out without
leaving a forwarding address. That very same day the monster
reappeared as if nothing had happened and, alas, ravaged their
farms and villages more fiercely than before.
Now this story seemed questionable to
Klapaucius, though on the other hand it was hard to believe the good
King was lying, so he packed his knapsack with all sorts of powerful
dragon-exterminating equipment and set off for the mountains, whose
snowcapped peaks rose majestically in the east.
It wasn't long before he saw dragon
prints and got an unmistakable whiff of brimstone. On he went,
undaunted, holding his weapon in readiness and keeping a constant eye
on the needle of his dragon counter. It stayed at zero for a spell,
then began to give nervous little twitches, until, as if struggling
with itself, it slowly crawled towards the number one. There was no
doubt now: the Echidnosaur was close at hand. Which amazed
Klapaucius, for he couldn't understand how his trusty friend and
renowned theoretician, Trurl, could have gotten so fouled up in his
calculations as to fail to wipe the dragon out for good. Nor could he
imagine Trurl returning to the royal palace and demanding
payment for what he had not accomplished.
Klapaucius then came upon a group of
natives. They were plainly terrified, the way they kept looking
around and trying to stay together. Bent beneath heavy burdens
balanced on their backs and heads, they were stepping
single-file up the mountainside. Klapaucius accosted the procession
and asked the first native what they were about.
"Sire!" replied the native,
a lower court official in a tattered tog and cummerbund. "
'Tis the tribute we carry to the dragon."
"Tribute? Ah yes, the tribute!
And what is the tribute?"
"Nothin' more 'r less, Sire, than
what the dragon would have us bring it: gold coins, precious stones,
imported perfumes, an' a passel o' other valuables."
This was truly incredible, for dragons
never required such tributes, certainly not perfume—no perfume
could ever mask their own natural fetor—and certainly not
currency, which was useless to them.
"And does it ask for young
virgins, my good man?" asked Klapaucius.
"Virgins? Nay, Sire, tho' there
war a time … we had to cart 'em in by the bevy, we did…
Only that war before the stranger came, the furrin gentleman, Sire,
a-walkin' around the rocks with 'is boxes an' contraptions, all by
'is-self…" Here the worthy native broke off and stared at
the instruments and weapons Klapaucius was carrying, particularly
the large dragon counter that was ticking softly all the while, its
red pointer jumping back and forth across the white dial.
"Why, if he dinna have one…
jus' like yer Lordship's," he said in a hushed voice. "Aye,
jus' like… the same wee stiggermajigger and a' the rest…"
"There was a sale on them,"
said Klapaucius, to allay the native's suspicions. "But tell me,
good people, do you happen to know what became of this
stranger?"
"What became o' him, ye ask? That
we know not, Sire, to be sure. 'Twas, if I not mistake me, but a
fortnight past —'twas, 'twas not, Master Gyles, a fortnight
withal an' nae more?"
" 'Twas, 'twas, 'tis the truth ye
speak, the truth aye, a fortnight sure, or maybe two."
"Aye! So he comes to us, yer
Grace, partakes of our 'umble fare, polite as ye please an' I'll not
gainsay it, nay, a parfit gentleman true, pays hondsomely, inquires
after the missus don't y'know, aye an' then he sits 'isself down,
spreads out a' them contraptions an' thin's with clocks in 'em,
y'see, an' scribbles furious-like, numbers they are, one
after't'other, in this wee book he keep in 'is breast pocket, then
takes out a—whad'yacallit—therbobbiter thingamabob…"
"Thermometer?"
"Aye, that's it! A thermometer…
an' he says it be for dragons, an' pokes it here an' there, Sire, an'
scribbles in 'is book again, then he takes a' them contraptions an'
things an' packs 'em up an' puts 'em on 'is back an' says farewell
an' goes 'is merry way. We never saw 'im more, yer Honor. That very
night we hear a thunder an' a clatter, oh, a good ways off, 'bout as
far as Mount Murdigras—'tis the one, Sire, hard by yon peak,
aye, that one thar, looks like a hawk, she do, we call 'er Pfftius
Peak after our beluved King, an' that one thar on't'uther side, bent
over like't'would spread 'er arse, that be the Dollymog, which,
accordin' to legend—"
"Enough of the mountains, worthy
native," said Klaupaucius. "You were saying there was
thunder in the night. What happened then?"
"Then, Sire? Why nothin', to be
sure. The hut she give a jump an' I falls outta bed, to which I'm
well accustomed, mind ye, seein' as how the wicked beast allus come
a-bumpin' gainst the house with 'er tail an' send a feller
flyin'—like when Master Gyles' ayn brother londed in the privy
'cause the creatur' gets a hankerin' to scratch 'isself on the corner
o' the roof…"
"To the point, man, get to the
point!" cried Klapaucius. "There was thunder, you fell
down, and then what?"
"Then nothin', like I says before
an' thought I made it clear. Nothin', an' if'n there war somethin',
there'd be somethin', only there war nothin' sure an' that be the
long an' the short of it! D'ye agree, Master Gyles?"
"Aye, sure 'tis the truth ye
speak, 'tis."
Klapaucius bowed and stepped back, and
the whole procession continued up the mountain, the natives straining
beneath the dragon's tribute. He supposed they would place it in some
cave designated by the beast, but didn't care to ask for details; his
head was already spinning from listening to the local official and
his Master Gyles. And anyway, he had heard one of the natives say to
another that the dragon had chosen "a spot as near us an' as
near 'isself as could be found."
Klapaucius hurried on, picking his way