Barrent needed time to recuperate from his violent entry into Omegan
life. Starting from the helpless state of a newborn, he had moved
through murder to the ownership of an antidote shop. From a forgotten
past on a planet called Earth, he had been catapulted into a dubious
present in a world full of criminals. He had gotten a glimpse of a
complex class structure, and a hint of an institutionalized program of
murder. He had discovered in himself a certain measure of self-reliance,
and a surprising quickness with a gun. He knew there was a great deal
more to find out about Omega, Earth, and himself. He hoped he would live
long enough to make the necessary discoveries.
First things first. He had to earn a living. To do so, he had to find
out about poisons and antidotes.
He moved into the apartment in back of his store and began reading the
books left by the late Hadji Draken.
The literature on poisons was fascinating. There were the vegetable
poisons known on Earth, such as hellebore, setterwort, deadly
nightshade, and the yew tree. He learned about the action of
hemlock--its preliminary intoxication and its final convulsions. There
was prussic acid poisoning from almonds and digitalin poisoning from
purple foxglove. There was the awesome efficiency of wolfsbane with its
deadly store of aconite. There were the fungi such as the amanita
toadstools and fly agaric, not to mention the purely Omegan vegetable
poisons like redcup, flowering lily, and amortalis.
But the vegetable poisons, although dismayingly numerous, were only
one part of his studies. He had to consider the animals of Earth,
sea, and air, the several species of deadly spiders, the snakes,
scorpions, and giant wasps. There was an imposing array of metallic
poisons such as arsenic, mercury, and bismuth. There were the commoner
corrosives--nitric, hydrochloric, phosphoric, and sulphuric acid. And
there were the poisons distilled or extracted from various sources,
among which were strychnine, formic acid, hyoscyamine, and belladonna.
Each of the poisons had one or more antidotes listed; but those
complicated, cautiously worded formulas, Barrent suspected, were
frequently unsuccessful. To make matters more difficult, the efficacy of
an antidote seemed to depend upon a correct diagnosis of the poisoning
agent. And too often the symptoms produced by one poison resembled those
of another.
Barrent pondered these problems while he studied his books. In the
meantime, with considerable nervousness, he served his first customers.
He found that many of his fears were ungrounded. In spite of the dozens
of lethal substances recommended by the Poison Institute, most poisoners
stuck single-mindedly to arsenic or strychnine. They were cheap, sure,
and very painful. Prussic acid had a readily discernible odor, mercury
was difficult to introduce into the system, and the corrosives, although
gratifyingly spectacular, were dangerous to the user. Wolfsbane and fly
agaric were excellent, of course; deadly nightshade could not be
discounted, and the amanita toadstool had its own macabre charm. But
these were the poisons of an older, more leisurely age. The impatient
younger generation--and especially the women, who made up nearly 90 per
cent of the poisoners on Omega--were satisfied with plain arsenic or
strychnine, as the occasion and opportunity demanded.
Omegan women were conservatives. They simply weren't interested in the
never-ending refinements of the poisoner's art. Means didn't interest
them; only ends, as quickly and as cheaply as possible. Omegan women
were noted for their common sense. Although the eager theoreticians at
the Poison Institute tried to sell dubious mixtures of Contact Poison or
Three Day Mold, and worked hard to put across complex, haywire schemes
involving wasps, concealed needles, and double glasses, they found few
takers among women. Simple arsenic and fast-acting strychnine continued
to be the mainstays of the poison trade.
This quite naturally simplified Barrent's work. His remedies--immediate
regurgitation, lavage, neutralizing agent--were easy enough to master.
He encountered some difficulty with men who refused to believe they had
been poisoned by anything so commonplace as arsenic or strychnine. For
those cases, Barrent prescribed a variety of roots, herbs, twigs,
leaves, and a minute homeopathic dose of poison. But he invariably
preceded these with regurgitation, lavage, and neutralizing agent.
After he was settled, Barrent received a visit from Danis Foeren and
Joe. Foeren had a temporary job on the docks unloading fishing boats.
Joe had organized a nightly pokra game among the government workers of
Tetrahyde. Neither man had moved much in status; with no kills to their
credit, they had progressed only as far as Second Class Resident. They
were nervous about meeting socially with a Free Citizen, but Barrent put
them at ease. They were the only friends he had on Omega, and he had no
intention of losing them over a question of social position.
Barrent was unable to learn very much from them about the laws and
customs of Tetrahyde. Even Joe hadn't been able to find out anything
definite from his friends in government service. On Omega, the law was
kept secret. Older residents used their knowledge of the law to enforce
their rule over the newcomers. This system was condoned and reinforced
by the doctrine of the inequality of all men, which lay at the heart of
the Omegan legal system. Through planned inequality and enforced
ignorance, power and status remained in the hands of the older
residents.
Of course, all social movement upward couldn't be stopped. But it could
be retarded, discouraged, and made exceedingly dangerous. The way one
encountered the laws and customs of Omega was through a risky process of
trial and error.
Although the Antidote Shop took up most of his time, Barrent persisted
in his efforts to locate the girl. He was unable to find a hint that she
even existed.
He became friendly with the shopkeepers on either side of him. One of
them, Demond Harrisbourg, was a jaunty, moustached young man who
operated a food store. It was a mundane and slightly ridiculous line of
work; but, as Harrisbourg explained, even criminals must eat. And this
necessitated farmers, processors, packagers, and food stores.
Harrisbourg contended that his business was in no way inferior to the
more indigenous Omegan industries centered around violent death.
Besides, Harrisbourg's wife's uncle was a Minister of Public Works.
Through him, Harrisbourg expected to receive a murder certificate. With
this all-important document, he could make his six-months kill and move
upward to the status of Privileged Citizen.
Barrent nodded his agreement. But he wondered if Harrisbourg's wife, a
thin, restless woman, wouldn't decide to poison him first. She appeared
to be dissatisfied with her husband; and divorce was forbidden on Omega.
His other neighbor, Tem Rend, was a lanky, cheerful man in his early
forties. He had a heat scar which ran from just beneath his left ear
down almost to the corner of his mouth, a souvenir given him by a
status-seeking hopeful. The hopeful had picked on the wrong man. Tem
Rend owned a weapon shop, practiced constantly, and always carried the
articles of his trade with him. According to witnesses, he had performed
the counterkill in exemplary fashion. Tem's dream was to become a member
of the Assassin's Guild. His application was on file with that ancient
and austere organization, and he had a chance of being accepted within
the month.
Barrent bought a sidearm from him. On Rend's advice, he chose a
Jamiason-Tyre needlebeam. It was faster and more accurate than any
projectile weapon, and it transmitted the same shock-power as a heavy
caliber bullet. To be sure, it hadn't the spread of heat weapons such as
the Hadjis used, which could kill within six inches of their target. But
wide-range beamers encouraged inaccuracy. They were messy, careless
weapons which reinforced careless traits. Anyone could fire a heat gun;
but to use a needlebeam effectively, you had to practice constantly. And
practice paid off. A good needlebeam man was more than a match for any
two widebeam gunmen.
Barrent took this advice to heart, coming, as it did, from an apprentice
assassin and the owner of a weapon shop. He put in long hours on Rend's
cellar firing range, sharpening his reflexes, getting used to the
Quik-Thro holster.
There was a lot to do and a tremendous amount to learn, just in order to
survive. Barrent didn't mind hard work as long as it was for a
worthwhile goal. He hoped things would stay quiet for a while so he
could catch up to the older inhabitants.
But things never stayed quiet in Omega.
One day, late in the afternoon as he was closing up, Barrent received an
unusual-looking caller. He was a man in his fifties, heavy-set, with a
stern, swarthy face. He wore a red ankle-length robe and sandals. Around
his waist was a rawhide belt from which dangled a small black book and a
red-handled dagger. There was an air of unusual force and authority
about him. Barrent was unable to tell his status.
Barrent said, "I was just closing up, sir. But if there's anything you
wish to buy--"
"I did not come here to buy," the caller said. He permitted himself a
faint smile. "I came here to sell."
"Sell?"
"I am a priest," the man said. "You are a newcomer to my district. I
haven't noticed you at services."
"I hadn't known anything about--"
The priest held up his hand. "Under both the sacred and the profane law,
ignorance is no excuse for nonperformance of one's duties. Indeed,
ignorance can be punished as an act of willful neglect, based upon the
Total Personal Responsibility Act of '23, to say nothing of the Lesser
Codicil." He smiled again. "However, there is no question of
chastisement for you as yet."
"I'm glad to hear that, sir," Barrent said.
"'Uncle' is the proper form of address," the priest said. "I am Uncle
Ingemar, and I have come to tell you about the orthodox religion of
Omega, which is the worship of that pure and transcendent spirit of Evil
which is our inspiration and our comfort."
Barrent said, "I'll be very happy to hear about the religion of Evil,
Uncle. Shall we go into the living room?"
"By all means, Nephew," the priest said, and followed Barrent to the
apartment in back of the store.