Fears for his own safety had earlier kept Asodo Hatch away
from his own house. For, after all, Dog Java had made a determined
effort to kill him, which suggested he might be the target of a
conspiracy of murder. And murderers in search of Asodo Hatch would
surely and logically look for him under his own roof.
        However, now that Hatch had been alerted to the danger of
civic disorder in the City of Sun, he thought of his family rather
than himself, and hastened back to House Takabaga with a view to
securing the safety of his wife Talanta and his daughter Onica.
But on his way back to the Frangoni rock, Asodo Hatch saw precious
little in the way of revolution. And on Cap Uba itself, all was
peace.
        Consequently, Hatch was not alarmed to find his house empty,
his wife and daughter gone. He presumed them to be worshipping at
Temple Isherzan, or visiting the womenfolk of other households. Or
it might well be that Onica was at her knife-fighting classes, and
that her mother was there as a chaperone. The Frangoni greatly
approved of their womenfolk making an earnest study of the great
art of knife-fighting, for amongst the Frangoni this form of
athleticism has long been held to improve the physical grace of
the female form. However, it would be inappropriate for a young
yet nubile girl like Onica to be alone with a knife-fighting
instructor, hence her mother always accompanied her to her
lessons.
        Once Asodo Hatch was safe in the Frangoni rock, and safe in
his own house, his fears of civic disorder began to dissipate.
Indeed, he began to think that both he himself and Nambasa Berlin
had given way to a certain vapouring panic while in conference in
Na Sashimoko. So there had been demonstrations? The
"demonstrations" might well have been no more than the distantly
observed activities of gangs of young men preparing themselves for
the celebrations of Dog Day. There had been burnings in Actus
Dorum, had there? Perhaps there had been a couple of cooking fires
out of control. A boat had been pirated on the Yamoda, had it?
Maybe one of the leaky fishing boats of that sluggish river had
sunk in neck-deep water, as was a common occurrence. And as for
soldiers being ambushed and massacred - why, that could be sheer
rumor.
        And besides, Scorpio Fax had said - had he not? - that there
was no revolution scheduled until Dog Day.
        Of course he had.
        He had said just that.
        Not till Dog Day, with the Dog Day drums to start it.
        So it was that when Asodo Hatch gained the peace of his house
in the late afternoon of the Day of Three Fishes, he very shortly
ceased worrying about the state of the city, and convinced himself
that all was well, and accordingly committed himself to his bed,
and was asleep within moments.
        As Asodo Hatch slept the sleep of exhaustion, the shadows of
the afternoon lengthened into evening. And as the shadows
lengthened, the fires which were burning here and there in the
streets of Dalar ken Halvar were more easily to be seen. And it
would have been clear to anyone standing atop the Frangoni rock
that those fires were rapidly increasing in number.
        It was thus clear to the woman Talanta and the girl Onica as
they made their way home from Temple Isherzan. And by the time
they got to their own house, House Takabaga, it was evident to
their untutored eyes that something of a widespread riot was going
on in the city, and was gathering momentum as the gathering dark
began to ensure a degree of anonymity for the rioters.
        Onica was all for waking her father, since she had a great
faith in him, and was sure he would do something about the
rioting. Talanta was likewise sure that the noble Hatch would do
something - or try to. His sense of responsibility was such that
he was unlikely to concede that any problem was too big for him,
so there was every possibility that he would try to wrench the
rioting city to order single-handed, and would quite possibly get
himself killed in the process.
        And Talanta, who did not wish to add to her own problems by
encompassing the death of her husband, accordingly forbade Onica
to wake him, and counseled her to practice the meditations of
patience.
        Thus peace ruled in House Takabaga.
        And peace ruled on the Frangoni rock itself, for the Frangoni
were poor, and well-armed, and strongly consolidated upon their
rock, and therefore not much of a temptation to lawless and
disorganized rioters who had easier targets elsewhere.
        However, while the Frangoni rock was in peace, the Combat
College was the scene of considerable alarums. Many Combat College
students belonged to the Free Corps, which essentially supported
the status quo. As soon as the rioting began, word went out from
the Brick, the headquarters of the Free Corps. In obedience to
commands from the Brick, vigilante squads began to form to put
down the rioting, and many Combat College students went forth into
the world to join those vigilante squads.
        Scorpio Fax, he who had informed Hatch of the impending
revolution, had initially taken refuge in the Combat College. But
he began to get increasingly concerned as messengers came and
went, as Free Corps zealots went hustling off to participate in
their vigilante actions, and as other Combat College students
sought refuge in the safety of the College itself - bringing with
them tales of burnings, and beatings, and upsettings, and
sinkings, and kidnappings, and rapes, and mutilations, and
murders.
        It became clear to Scorpio Fax that the revolution so long
fomented, so carefully planned and so meticulously organized was
getting underway prematurely. All kinds of possibilities occurred
to him. Perhaps his own encounter with Asodo Hatch had been
observed, and those with whom he had conspired had realized that
Fax was betraying their cause, and so had decided to launch their
revolution immediately, before it could be put down. Or perhaps
some of the rowdiness which attended the days leading up to Dog
Day had convinced some revolutionaries that their revolution was
breaking out by itself. Or perhaps -
        Well, Scorpio Fax had an inventive mind, and he had invented
up a full three dozen scenarios by the time night fell. And in the
course of his inventing, he found himself creating unfortunate
deaths for the purple-skinned Penelope Flute, the woman whom he
had secretly admired for so long - and so fruitlessly.
        As Fax had learnt long ago, Penelope Flute was deeply
committed to Lupus Lon Oliver. And Lupus, of course, was a Free
Corps member through and through. Therefore, it had long ago
occurred to Fax that a revolution which saw the destruction of the
existing social order would see the Free Corps destroyed along
with that order; and the pulling down and pullling to bits of the
Free Corps might well mean the dismemberment of young Lupus
himself, and therefore -
        Yes, let the truth be told!
        There are all kinds of reasons for getting oneself embroiled
in a revolution, but the deepest motivation which had impelled
Scorpio Fax into an involvement with Dalar ken Halvar's
revolutionary cause was the hope that the overthrow of the ruling
order might win him the woman he loved.
        Or might at least secure the destruction of the young Ebrell
Islander who was proving such a successful suitor of her hand.
        As Fax sat in the Combat College, receiving successive
reports of the growing turmoil in the streets of Dalar ken Halvar,
his anxiety grew. And, when he had conjured up lurid images of the
death or despoiling of Penelope for the seventieth time, he
finally gave in to his fears - and exited from the Combat College,
and hurried to House Jodorunda, intending to ensure the
preservation of the life, health and safety of the delectable
Penelope.
        When Fax came down Zambuk Street to House Jodorunda, he found
an ox cart overturned outside that house. The ox cart had been
carrying water barrels, which were being smashed by an
enthusiastic gang of wreckers. The oxen had been slaughtered, and
amateur butchers were hacking steaks out of the dusty carcases.
The noise of this revolutionary celebration covered the sound of
Fax's intrusion into House Jodorunda.
        Which he found empty.
        There was nobody at all in the house, except, in the
bathroom, the delectable Penelope Flute herself.
        "Ah," said Fax, breathing his relief, pleased beyond the
telling to find Penelope safe and secure.
        "What are you doing here?" said Penelope, looking up at Fax
from the comforts of her bath.
        When Fax made no immediate answer, Penelope heaved herself
out of the water like a wrathful hippopotamus, and Fax beat a
hasty retreat, withdrawing into the outer room.
        "I was looking for your brother," called Fax, once he had put
a door between himself and Penelope.
        "Well, you're looking in the wrong place," said Penelope,
throwing open that door and pursuing Fax. "Because this isn't his
house, it's mine."
        "Penelope," said Fax, moving impetuously to embrace the
Frangoni female, for all that her fully-clothed female form was
dripping wet from the bath. "I - "
        Penelope made a curt gesture of discontent. This gesture
caused her bunched knuckles to connect with the underside of
Scorpio Fax's jaw. Fax crashed backwards, taking a lacquerwork
table down to ruin as he went to the ground.
        Fortunately, at that point Fax's combat training came into
play, and he crossed his legs quickly enough to block the kick
which Penelope aimed at his crutch.
        "Look, you!" said Penelope, looking down at Fax from the
ominous tower of her height. "If I've told you once, I've told you
a thousand times - I don't want you sniffing round here any longer
like a dog in heat!"
        Scorpio Fax was acutely conscious of the blue and green
ceremonial tattoos which adorned Penelope's nose. She had
castrated and killed one rapist, and was perfectly capable of
doing the same to Fax himself if she thought him to be himself a
member of that breed.
        "I, ah, I didn't mean any harm," said Fax.
        "Good!" said Penelope, picking up a lacquerwork table.
        Fax did a combat roll which brought him to his feet, threw up
his arms to shield his face from the lightweight table, then fled
out into the night.
        He was hot.
        He was flushed.
        He was panting.
        And he was bitterly disillusioned.
        In the months of conspiracy which had been directed towards
launching a properly-coordinated full-scale revolution in Dalar
ken Halvar, Fax had indulged himself in confused but definitely
salacious imaginings. In his fantasies, he had imagined himself
taking advantage of revolutionary chaos to either seduce Penelope
or else to subdue her to his will by exercise of brute force.
        He had imagined that Penelope would be panic-stricken,
terrified by the noise, the screams, the crackle of bursting
flames, the clash of steel, the roar of the riotous cloud. He had
imagined her weeping, clinging, clutching, imploring. And he would
have been a hero, stalwart amidst the storm, instead of -
        Fax slowed to a walk, heading west through the night along
the dust of Zambuk Street. Perhaps if there had been a full-scale
revolution, things would have gone as he had imagined. But
instead, the thing had happened spontaneously, prematurely, and
the results were desultory.
        Instead of a city awash with roaring flames, the night was
merely sprinkled with arson. Instead of a howling mob, there was
the occasional shout and - intermittently - some distant
screaming.
        What is revolution without the bloodstorm riot which storms
the prisons, overthrows the palaces and pulls down the high and
mighty from their places of power?
        A revolution without such excesses is more a random riot than
an effective political movement, and a riot was what Dalar ken
Halvar was getting. The prison was tucked away in Childa Go, north
of Na Sashimoko, in amongst the shacks and drying huts of the
fishing center. There was no booty to attract rioters to Childa
Go, and the fishing folk were not the kind to riot on their own
account.
        So Fax was ready to bet that nobody was storming the prison,
and that nobody was trying to storm the heights of Ogo Blotch to
kill and rape, to burn and pillage, to force the defenses of Na
Sashimoko and raid the very Hall, pulping the Silver Emperor to a
mash of bones and setting the flames amok amidst his palace,
leaving the Shrine of Thrones in smoking ruins.
        No, it was not that kind of revolution at all.
        Instead, there was a settling of scores, a plundering of
moneylenders, a vandalistic wantonage of arson for the hell of it,
and much japing destruction in imitation of the careless
saturnalia of the Festival of the Dogs.
        So what could Fax salvage from this debacle?
        Well - the death of Polk the Cash, of course!
        Fax knew the fair Penelope Flute to be in danger of being
enslaved by Polk, who had taken unfair advantage of Penelope's
poverty to obtain a mortgage on her flesh. Very well. Fax would
take advantage of the confusion of the night to dispose of Polk.
Then, if he could later win the heart of the voluptuous Penelope,
he would confess the secret of that murder, thus confirming her in
her love for him.
        With that thought in mind, Fax headed into the commercial
center of Actus Dorum. Here every Ethnos Minor was to be found,
for the place was home not just to the Pang of Dalar ken Halvar
but also to a motley rabble of Ebrell Islanders, Southsearchers,
failed wizards, Ashdan ethnologists and others who had come to the
imperial heartlands by way of the trade routes.
        But when Fax found Polk's house, the moneylender was not
there. Instead, Polk the Cash had gone to the Frangoni rock. This
- or so said Polk's neighbors - was so that the noseless
moneylender could take into protective custody the young Frangoni
maiden Onica, youngest daughter of Asodo Hatch. It was known to
the neighbors that Onica had mortgaged herself to Polk, and they
claimed that the noseless one had decided that his investment
needed special protection on this most uncertain of nights.
        So Fax hurried to the Frangoni rock, firm in his intent to
ambush Polk at or near Hatch's house, then beat the moneylender to
death.
        Well.
        The neighbors were both right and wrong.
        Polk's neighbors were right in thinking that the noseless
one had taken himself off to House Takabaga. But he had not gone
there with any confiscation in mind. Rather, he had gone there in
search of his own protection. It is harder to imagine a greater
compliment than this: that a moneylender should take refuge with
the most mercilessly plighted of his creditors at a time of
general riot verging on wholesale revolution. Yet Polk the Cash -
who rightly counted himself an excellent judge of character - had
paid the Family Hatch this compliment.
        Thus when Scorpio Fax came bursting into House Takabaga, he
found Polk seated cross-legged upon a meal-mat, enjoying a bowl of
scorpion soup. And when Fax called upon Polk to come outside and
be murdered, the effect of this call was to precipitate violence.
        This violence woke from sleep the slumbering Asodo Hatch, who
came stumbling from the bedroom in a state of dazed bewilderment,
to find Scorpio Fax sprawled full-length on the beaten earth of
the floor, with the shards of a soup pot scattered around him.
        Explanations followed, explanations to which Fax reluctantly
added once he had recovered consciousness. Whereupon Asodo Hatch,
who was not at all amused, declared Fax to be his prisoner, and
further declared that he would deliver this prisoner to Na
Sashimoko that very night.