Down in The Bottomlands (and Other Places)

“You’d have been sadder yet if you hadn’t used them,” Park said. Still, despite the years he’d spent in the DA’s office battling crime, he found slightly inhuman the idea of letting the world know a house was standing empty. If anywhere, though, it might have worked in Tawantiinsuuju.

As Ankowaljuu had predicted, the inside of the house was untouched. The tukuuii riikook clasped his hand. “I wish I could stay, Judge Scoglund, but I have dealings elsewhere that will not wait.”

“It’s all rick,” Park said. “But I thank you again — for everything. Without you, no one would have had the chance to listen to me up there in the jungle.”

“You were the needful one. No one would have listened to me.” The tukuuii riikook nodded one last time, hurried out the door and back into his wain. Ljiikljiik zoomed off.

“At last!” Park said. He fairly ran to the telephone. “Get me the house of Pauljuu, Ruuminjavii’s son, in the district of Puumatjupan.”

The phone rang and rang. Just as Park began to lose patience, a servant answered: “Yes? Who is it?”

“This is Judge Ib Scoglund,” Park said grandly. “I’d like to speak to Kuurikwiljor, please.”

“Oh! Judge Scoglund!” the woman exclaimed. “Just one moment, please.” She set down the receiver. Faintly, Park heard her calling someone. He preened while he waited; just hearing his name, he thought, had been enough to impress the servant.

A voice he knew came on the line: “Judge Scoglund! How are you today, excellency?”

“Fine, thanks, Pauljuu,” Park answered, frowning a little. “But I asked to speak with your sister, not with you.

“Kuurikwiljor — is not here.”

“When should I call back, then?”

“Judge Scoglund-” Pauljuu hesitated, as if unsure how to go on. “Judge Scoglund, the last time you called here, some weeks ago, you made arrangements to see my sister that evening — and then never came.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Park said. “I was called away — I was almost dragged away — on the mission to make peace with the Dar al-Harb. The mission that succeeded, I might add.”

“I know that now. So does Kuurikwiljor, and we honor you for it. But we only learned the truth in the past few days. At the time — at the time, Judge Scoglund, all we knew was that you had not come. My sister was not pleased.”

“I see. I was afraid of that. I’m sorry. I did try to get in touch after I left, but I had no luck. But if she isn’t angry any more, Pauljuu, perhaps-”

“I am sorry too, Judge Scoglund, but I fear you do not see yet. A few days after you — well, after you disappeared, as we thought then — a noble named Kajoo Toopa made an offer of marriage for Kuurikwiljor. The rank of our family, which is higher than his own, made him willing to overlook her being a widow. After some thought, she accepted. The ceremony was performed eight days ago. Patjam kuutiin, Judge Scoglund.”

“ ‘The world changes,’ ” Park echoed dully. “Uh-huh.” After a moment, he remembered enough ma

“Worse than that, Eric. The lady is wed.” He had the somber satisfaction of watching Monkey-face’s jaw drop.

“What now?” his thane said.

“That’s a good asking.” Park slowly walked into the kitchen, Dunedin tagging along behind. When he opened the pantry, his eye lit on a jug whose shape he knew. He undid the stopper, sniffed, nodded. This was the stuff, all right — one whiff was enough to make his eyes cross. “Here’s what now, by God.”

Thane’s thane that he was, Monkey-face had already found two mugs. Park poured. Both men drank. Both men coughed. After the coughing was done, though, the pleasant glow remained in Park’s middle and rose rapidly to his head. He poured again.

After three or four shots, Dunedin said, “Judge Scoglund, do I rickly recall you teaching me some song-?”

“Hmm?” Then Park remembered too. “So you do, old boy, so you do.” He took a deep breath, turned his baritone loose: “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! If one of those bottles should happen to fall-”

Monkey-face chimed right in: “Ninety-eight bottles of beer!”