Poul Anderson was an expert action fiction writer. There are vivid fight scenes in the first two Maurai stories. However, in this third installment, the characters just talk. Even when, at the dramatic climax of the story, an armed man apprehends the narrator engaged in spying, their confrontation is merely conversational:
"He sighed, like the night wind beyond these walls. 'You're a Maurai spy, aren't you?'
"'An agent of the Ecological Service,' I answered..." (p. 164)
(Anderson readers note the blending of wind and dialogue yet again.)
The talking continues. Maurai policies are explained, reaffirmed and enforced. But there are also two anticipations of the sequel, Orion Shall Rise:
"So many seas unsailed, lands unwalked, girls unloved, risings of Orion and the Cross unseen!" (p. 165)
"'My children an' children's children 'ull fit into your schemes, because you're powerful. But you won't be forever. What then, Nakamuha? What then?'
"I looked up to the whirling skeletons, and suddenly the cold struck deep into me." (p. 165)
Time for a change.
4 comments:
Personally, I'd just have shot the spy when he admitted what he was without further ado -- he'd lied to his hosts and abused hospitality.
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
But, isn't that what all spies necessarily have to do, simply to carry out their jobs? WE would approve of spies who successfully work for causes we support or approve of, after all.
Moreover, even if the Maurai spy had his throat cut, his superiors would soon know something had gone wrong--and made arrangements to send an unbeatable expedition.
Ad astra! Sean
Yes, and that's why spies were generally regarded as outside all protection, and could be shot and tortured on capture. Traditionally, they were despised even by those who employed them, because what they did was inherently dishonorable, even if necessary.
I wasn't saying I'd have killed the spy for practical reasons: I'd have done it because he lied to me and my community and took our hospitality under false pretenses. A matter of principle.
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
I still see an inconsistency here. Does it really make sense for the chiefs of Intelligence for the UK or US for example, to despise their own spies? If the work or methods of spies are dishonorable but necessary, it seems odd to despise your own agents.
Some spy agencies, like the Tsarist Okhrana and its Soviet and post-Soviet successors, seem to enjoy their work, to get lost in the thrill of intrigues and counter-intrigues. So much so that some agents seemed to have forgotten who or what they were woking for.
Ad astra! Sean
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