SNOWBABES OF IVDEL

SNOBABES OF IVDEL

When SF Ali ibn Serov left the chamber, Ivdel already had been waiting for him.

The meeting person stood afar near the fence, enclosing the landing platform, covered as everything around by white virgin snow.

Ivdel waved and went towards Ali, sinking down in snow almost knee-high. Serov also, in decency, made a gesture in the air by the palm of his hand, threw back the hood of the jacket and looked around to see the landscape layout.

Occasional snowflakes with cat’s grace were gliding down from whitish clouds, completely covered all the sky. Here and now dusk was falling. White hilly plains stretched to the distance which eyes could embraced. Far away a wall of forest loomed – and there was neither a light nor any sign of life. The only evidence of human presence were three round unloading platforms of the pointing system with its high fences in which access guides for evacuation of cargo containers were yawning.

One sight was sufficient to understand that he was late – on the next platform stood another chamber. It meant that his adversary, also SF, al-Faraday, the representative of the “Instant Cargos”, had arrived first.

“So bad”, thought Serov with slightly drilling pain in his cheekbone. “Bad, but I hope not everything is still lost”

Ali looked upwards, where behind cloudy darkness his cargo lighter hung at the stationary orbit, stretched downwards invisible gravitational cable, just by which the chamber had slid down. If within three days Serov wouldn’t manage to persuade aborigines to sign the contracts, the containers from "Spacetrans” would never slide down by this cable.

In any case, though being upset that al-Faraday had arrived earlier, Serov understood perfectly that his chances really weren’t completely lost: he knew this upstart gringo quite well and had now doubt that there still is a hope to win local tender.

“OK”, said Serov to himself, “the one, who comes first, not always wins. We’ll see what we’ll see.”

Ivdel had approached, smiling, and sniffed loudly, as if saluted.

Now Serov could watch him properly, despite of fading evening light and parka’s hood, hanging down the man’s face. Somewhat rough features: chapped and tanned at open areas skin, rather long nose, protruding forward as a hook. And at the same time as if naive, childishly glittering and at the same time impudent grey eyes.

“Well, may be, hello! Welcome!” Ivdel also threw back the hood, as if he figured out that the guest wants to see his physiognomy better. The eyes shone brightly with warmth, and mouth was stretching, opening strong but not very clean teeth, among which a pair was absent.

“Hi”, Serov just in case also smiled and stretched his hand. “I’m Ali ibn Serov, Star Forwarder, that one with whom you spoke recently through the connecting channel.”

Ivdel hemmed as if the name caused some disappointment for him, and nodded:

“Well, and as to me, you must know then, how they call me – Ivdel, and that’s all!”

“Yes, yes, I know”, confirmed Serov, continuing to keep a trademark grin.

The aborigine looked sideway to the sky with certain fear:

“Lets’ go, or how? Otherwise I’m afraid these your boxes start to fall down…”

Ali curved his eyebrows in surprise:

“Why, don’t you know? Automatics guarantees safety, complete: my lighter will start to lower down containers only if the platform is empty! If someone of people enter here, the process will be abrupt at once. And, first of all, it is necessary to enter the special code.”

“And just imagine if it”, Ivdel poked his finger at the sky, “would mistake? Lighter in need is lighter indeed, you know!”

SF smiled indulgently:

“Have you ever heard about containers which fell down directly on humans from cargo lighters?”

“No”, answered Ivdel honestly. “But anybody seldom flew to us alive for last ten years, mainly automatic supply ships have been unloading here. And in such cases we did not stand at platforms! I have come here now just to meet you…”

“Hm, well… Thank’s for meeting me!” SF felt slightly awkward: this man was afraid of falling containers, but in respect had come to meet the forwarding agent!

“By the way, about containers”, he said. “For they would start to be lowered exactly here, I have to sign contracts first. And it seem my rival managed to land earlier, yeah?”

“Aha!” with some foolish joy confirmed Ivdel. “He was taken away by my brother-in-law, half an hour ago. But never mind, don’t worry – nobody will start tender auction earlier that tomorrow morning. And, possibly, not even tomorrow…”

 “Really? Indeed they won’t start?” asked Ali, in whose soul the hope stirred, gradually  getting stronger and transforming into confident excitement of competition.

“For sure!” confirmed the aborigine.

“OK, good, if it’s so,” Serov rubbed his hands.

“It is quite possible, that everything could be all right and I shall manage to beat this goon Al-Faraday,” he thought.

“Then, touch the wood, my containers will really tumble down here,” he said aloud. “By the way, how are you going to take them out of the platforms? I can’t see any unloading devices and all this!”

“Oh,” answered Ivdel, “fellahs with their curcamels will come and take away everything!”

Serov inquiringly let off a light stream of exhalation:

“Curcamels” are animals, it seems?”

It was told almost nothing about curcamels in his Reference Book. As well, however, as about “fellahs”, but from a pair of strange words the last one always clings stronger.

“Well, of course!  Certainly, animals! We harness them, I mean, and carry cargoes this way. We ourselves often ride them.”

“Ride the animal?!” Serov was amazed. “Hm, you could have bought mobiles and driven them – you have some money, as I’ve seen from your reports!”

“Why?! Why you don’t like our animals?! We don’t need these pieces of iron to carry goods: machines break, you should order spare parts for them to repair, and all this. Instead, you simply give a pile of hay to your nice curcamel – and he is satisfied. The best thing for the business!” 

Serov silently was looking at Ivdel, not knowing what to say. The aborigine shifted his feet for a while, looked back for some reason or other, cleaned his throat and said:

“Well, shall we go! I already have our pretty little steam-baths warmed up… And all the rest is ready. That your rival – what’s his name? – we’ll also make good steam bath for him. You have all the documents for the auction with you, just in case?”

Serov slapped several times on the map-case, hanging at his side.

“So, shall we go!” repeated Ivdel .

“On curcamels?” with artificial negligence inquired Serov.

“What for?!” it was the aborigine’s turn to be surprised. “By propeller sleigh! I have one waiting over there, in hollow.

“Oh, I understand!” Serov nodded with relief. “And what’s that – “pretty little steam bath”?”

“Steam bath?!” Ivdel broke into smile. “This, brother, is such a thing, that you there in your spaces haven’t ever seen! It is nice thing, in one word: steam, hot water, bunch of green birch twigs and…”

“So it is shower, isn’t it?” interrupted Serov with hope. “But what for is that bunch of green birch twigs here?”

Ivdel sighed and has scratched back of his head, covered with ragged hair, now slightly silvered by fallen snowflakes:

“I don’t know what is it – shower, but the steam bath is the kind of washing, to say in general. With steam.”

“And don’t you burn yourselves?” in the manner of Ivdel asked SF.

“Well, if you are a muddler, then it’s possible, of course, to have a burn, when you throw water on hot stones. And if one makes everything neatly, this is real satisfaction, I say!”

“I understand nothing!” thought Ali with despair and waved his hand hopelessly.

There was a Reference Book called EBFP, “The Explanations on Behavior on Far Planets”, which every Star Forwarder was obliged to know: without this insurances couldn’t be obtained and pensions weren’t paid. Though, not everything was explained there, but in such cases it was advised in the Book not to asked aborigines too importunately about local customs, religions, etc.

In general, there were a lot of illogical things in this Book. For example, the case was described in confirmation the recommendation not to ask aborigines. According to that a certain professor, studying local customs on a planet named Assgay, has asked the local governor to show him the most typical one. All ended up deplorably – the professor was ritually eaten up. It turned out that on this planet all guests were eaten just exactly for demonstration of most typical local customs, and if the visitor did not mention about such a demonstration, he wouldn’t have imagine peaceful and refined assgayinas, who equally loved both men and women, in the role of terrible cannibals.

Although, in the thick tome of “The Explanations” it was possible also to find references, how a traveler could suffer even not asking questions at all. On the planet Godallah one SF simply had killed a small insect, which was called there “muha”, an analogue of terrestrial fly, which sat on the sleeve of his jacket, and that caused not less terrible consequences. The matter was that people on Godallah professed so called “muchrism”, the religion based on the faith in two prophets – Muha and Chrisya. Therefore, muha (i.e, a fly) was the sacred animal there, which killing was prohibited under any circumstances! What was the second sacred animal looked like, which should logically exist (any "chrisya” or what?) – it wasn’t even mentioned in EBFP. But there was told in details, that orthodox muchrises after the decision of court had beaten poor SF by stones. To death! And, you know, SF killed that fly just because of knowing nothing about the local religion!

Besides, about that Godallah it was said that there is no larceny there, however Serov knew for sure, that during the revolt against the dictator Haddam Sussein the capital of the planet, Tag-and-Run City was plundered completely, and even hundred thousand muhas (i.e., flies) were ruthlessly killed. Here’s your devotion and strict following to religious traditions!

In short, the founders of "The Explanations" obviously had no propensity to excessive detailed elaboration of the important information, but, anyway, though about terrible local customs on Ivdel nothing was said, Serov hadn’t begun to insist on explanations, having given himself a word to be extreme careful, just in case not to kill any flying insects here and in general not to provoke the aborigines somehow.

“Well, shall we go, then?” repeated Ivdel, then turned around and went somewhere.

Ali shrugged, nodded and, having taken his bag, followed Ivdel, instantly sinking in snow, covered with thin layer of ice crust.

On his way to this planet, following the paragraphs of “The Explanations", forwarding agent Serov, named SF (or “Star Forwarder”), carefully learned the available Database on Ivdel. Small world (however, with almost normal gravitation – probably, there was very massive planet core here) rotated around the local sun being fourth in succession. Little planet was covered with forests and fields of snow. Here and there under this crusts of seldom thawing ice cold lakes lied, somewhere small rivers ran. Sometimes thaws happened, and during this time sky became blue, and local grass at thawed patches reached out small green tongues to the sun. But it happened very seldom, and general impression of the planet Ivdel was the following: a lot of snows and forests – and not much enough of warmth and people.

Strange people lived in this strange place. Once upon a time, already after The Third Galactic war, which officially was called The Great Opposition, a group of refugees arrived on Ivdel and settled here. What made them to choose Ivdel as their home, no one could understand: almost no minerals, cold climate – not paradise at all.

Why the planet was named so, the Informatory of the spaceship, storing that data base, kept silence. The only thing that was known for sure was that boys here were often named after the planet itself – Ivdels. And inhabitants named themselves in the same way, but with lowercase first letter. It was assert that there was no larceny here, but the same thing was written about notorious Godallah, and the price to all those assertions (more precisely – explanations) also was well known. Nevertheless, indeed, there were even no rumors about the larceny on Ivdel. There was no information at all about local social system even as rumors, because, in fact, practically nobody could spread these rumors: very few people came here on business, and without business – nobody at all.

Following the man named Ivdel, Serov asked with caution, as if trying by finger the water of unknown temperature:

“And for how long time had nobody flown here?”

“For a long time,” said Ivdel regretfully. “Somewhere as three years ago a guy came – he preached earthlism. Heard about such religion? Real rubbish, by honor! Well, only think: they insist that all peoples origin from certain goddess of Earth, which has created space, stars and planets! And, besides all that, she also has created a man! And, in addition, without Copulation and, therefore, Vice – how do you like that? We’ve been keeping listening for some time, and then send him for a long-long journey, to unknown land, so to say…”

“Beat to death by stones?” Serov tried to ask it quietly, but his voice quavered treacherously, and Ali touched powerful large-caliber gun, hanging under his jacket, though he understood that guns seldom help in such situations.

“What? What?!” Ivdel even turned back, and SF involuntarily looked aside. “Why – by stones?! Why so – by stones? What are you talking about?! Well, the man talks about trifles – and let him talk that. We ain’t no these muchrises to through a man down by stones! We simply asked him to go to hell in a handbucket. Get lost to your spaceship, buddy. Fly further to pull the wool over softheads’ eyes, but it won’t work with us! Who ever has seen the goddess to create people? How she could do this, and even without copulation? Even goddess – ha, ha! – can’t do that, correct?”

Serov wanted to ask if Ivdel is atheist, but stayed silent and kept on going. He thought that in accordance with “The Explanations” ivdels couldn’t be atheists, because they had the subject of worship, although the information in the Galaxy data-base was rather incomplete and contradictory.   

“The Goddess has created people!” continued to express his indignation Ivdel, though without much anger. “People get birth from wives, and not from goddesses. If you want to worship any goddess then you have right to do that, but don’t talk nonsense!..” 

“Excuse me,” asked Serov almost without any purpose, “who gives birth to people?”

Ivdel stopped sharply and turned back. Serov’s hand mechanically twitched to the gun, but the aborigine grinned still with open heart, and forwarder felt relieved.

“You there at your stars – what, all got absolutely crazy, upon my word?” Ivdel shook his head. “Wives give birth to people! Wives!”

“That is “women” you mean?” asked Serov and, trying to adapt to rustic dialect of Ivdel, added: “Babes?”

“How did you say?” almost whispering inquired Ivdel, and stomach-freezing anxiety started to move in Ali’s soul again. “Women? Babes?! Well… Why you say like this? Women – hell with them, but the word is simply bad one. And babes… This is a gospel thing, and after all, babes can’t give birth to somebody. The babe can’t consist of flesh, sand or wood – the babe always is of snow!”

“Oh, yeas, of snow, then…” promptly agreed Serov, looking at Ivdel with slight confusion, but the aborigine still showed no anger, just having absolutely frankly surprised at the astronaut’s lack of education. 

People on Ivdel must died out but they didn’t. They trade to other planets lumber and furs, sell very profitably (smuggling, of course) horns of curcamels, from which in other worlds people received “condoum” – amazing stimulant of intellectual abilities, though often causing hard constipations as by-effect.

Since the beginning of time ivdelians bought (in particular in “Spacetrans”) carrots, coal, brooms and zinc-coated buckets. They bought all that because they made “snowbabes” – in “The Explanations” it was explained in details what is it. The figures from snow were called so: usually, three spheres from snow, one smaller than another, put on each other. Additional two small spheres were used as “hands” of the figure, coal was for eyes, carrot – for nose, the bucket was put on the head as a cap, and broom was inserted in one of two hands. As it was learned out, these “snowbabes” –  in some other worlds they were called “snowmen” – were made besides Ivdel only on a few planets, where it was also a lot of snow (at the planet where Serov had grown up, there was now snow at all and nobody never even saw snowmen, not saying about any snowbabes). But, more over, only on Ivdel, as it was said in the Book, snowbabes were worshipped! It was written literally – “worshipped”. Ali already read about it, but didn’t take in that seriously, and absolutely forget it, therefore.

In the language of Ivdel planet there were many derivative terms, connected with the original one – even money here were called “babeys”! Having recalled this fact, Serov immediately gave himself a word not to say anything bad about snowbabes, though he hardly could imagine how it is possible to worship to any scarecrow made of snow. Even muchrism was much more sensible for him though evidently was a stupid thing as one could easily guess.

But all these problems seemed not serious ones against the fact that at the moment the monopoly of “Spacetrans” turned out to be under the threat: young and ambitious company “IC” or “Instant Cargoes” strived to penetrate in the monopolized sector of sales on Ivdel. Al-Faraday, as Serov knew, brought here very attractive pack of discounts and offers of new brands. However, he had to fight for the contract with Serov: “Spacetrans” hadn’t left this unanswered, and in Ali’s map-case strong trumps also were hidden.

Ivdel’s propeller sleigh turned out to be a quite up-to-date machine with a cozy streamline cabin form light polyplastmetal, having wide steady sledges. Over the smoothed drop-shaped hull housing of activator was rising. Vertical rudder bars stack up as twisted wings of swallow, adding a special grace to the high-speed vehicle.  

Serov was surprised twice – to the modern machine and to that it wasn’t painted in bright colors, because on this dull snow plain bright things would have been much more visible, if it would be necessary to look for a broken vehicle.

Despite his doubts and fears, Serov asked Ivdel a direct question. The aborigine laughed with his coughing laughter:

“Ha-ha, there’s no bloody need to search you if you can’t save you yourself! The cold and snow ain’t no enemies, but the nature of the existence. Snowbabes – they love the cold, you see.” ...

  to be continued>