by Andre Norton
11
Either the Red was lucky, or his reactions were quick. He had somehowrolled clear of the struggling horse as Lupe leaped from behind aboulder, knife out and ready. To the eyes of the Apaches the helmetedman lay easy prey to Lupe's attack. Nor did he raise an arm to defendhimself, though one hand lay free across the plate on his chest.
But the young Apache stumbled, rebounding back as if he had run into anunseen wall--when his knife was still six inches away from the other.Lupe cried out, shook under a second impact as the Red fired anautomatic with his other hand.
Travis dropped his bow, returned to the most primitive weapon of all.His hand closed around a stone and he hurled the fist-sized ovalstraight at the helmet so clearly outlined against the rocks below.
But even as Lupe's knife had never touched flesh, so was the rockdeflected; the Red was covered by some protective field. This wascertainly nothing the Apaches had seen before. Nolan's whistle summonedthem to draw back.
The Red fired again, the sharp bark of the hand gun harsh and loud. Hedid not have any real target, for with the exception of Lupe the Apacheshad gone to earth. Between the rocks the Red was struggling to his feet,but he moved slowly, favoring his side and one leg; he had not cometotally unharmed from his tumble with the pony.
An armed enemy who could not be touched--one who knew there were morethan outlaws in this region. The Red leader was far more of a threat tothe Apaches now than he had ever been. He must not be allowed to escape.
He was holstering his gun, moving along with one hand against the rocksto steady himself, trying to reach one of the ponies that stood withtrailing reins beside the inert Tatars.
But when the enemy reached the far side of that rock he would have tosacrifice either his steadying hold, or his touch on the chest platewhere his other hand rested. Would he, then, for an instant bevulnerable?
The pony!
Travis put an arrow on bow cord and shot. Not at the Red, who hadreleased his hold of the rock, preferring to totter instead of losecontrol of the chest plate--but into the air straight before the nose ofthe mount.
The pony neighed wildly, tried to turn, and its shoulder caught thefree, groping hand of the Red and spun the man around and back, so thathe flung up both hands in an effort to ward himself off the rocks. Thenthe pony stampeded down the break, its companions catching the samefever, trailing in a mad dash which kept the Red hard against theboulders.
He continued to stand there until the horses, save for the wounded onestill kicking fruitlessly, were gone. Travis felt a sense of reprieve.They might not be able to get at the Red, but he was hurt and afoot, twostrikes which might yet reduce him to a condition the Apaches couldhandle.
Apparently the other was also aware of that, for now he pushed out fromthe rocks and stumbled along after the ponies. But he went only a stepor two. Then, settling back once more against a convenient boulder, hebegan to work at the plate on his chest.
Nolan appeared noiselessly beside Travis. "What does he do?" His lipswere very close to the younger man's ear, his voice hardly more than abreath.
Travis shook his head slightly. The Red's actions were a completemystery. Unless, now disabled and afoot, he was trying to summon aid.Though there was no landing place for a helicopter here.
Now was the time to try and reach Lupe. Travis had seen a slightmovement in the fallen Apache's hand, the first indication that theenemy's shot had not been as fatal as it had looked. He touched Nolan'sarm, pointed to Lupe; and then, discarding his bow and quiver beside thewar leader, he stripped for action. There was cover down to the woundedApache which would aid him. He must pass one of the Tatars on the way,but none of the tribesmen had shown any signs of life since they hadfallen from their saddles at the first attack.
With infinite care, Travis lowered himself into a narrow passage, took alizard's way between brush and boulder, pausing only when he reached theTatar for a quick check on the potential enemy.
The lean brown face was half turned, one cheek in the sand, but theslack mouth, the closed eyes were those, Travis believed, of a dead man.By some action of his diabolic machine the Red must have snuffed out hisfour captives--perhaps in the belief that they were part of the Apacheattack.
Travis reached the rock where Lupe lay. He knew that Nolan was watchingthe Red and would give him warning if he suddenly showed an interest inanything but his machine. The Apache reached out, his hands closing onLupe's ankles. Beneath his touch, flesh and muscle tensed. Lupe's eyeswere open, focused now on Travis. There was a bleeding furrow above hisright ear. The Red had tried a difficult head shot, failing in his aimby a mere fraction of an inch.
Lupe made a swift move for which Travis was ready. His grip on theother's body helped to tumble them both around a rock which lay betweenthem and the Red. There was the crack of another shot and dust spurtedfrom the side of the boulder. But they lay together, safe for thepresent, as Travis was sure the enemy would not risk an open attack ontheir small fortress.
With Travis' aid Lupe struggled back up to the site where Nolan waited.Jil-Lee was there to make competent examination of the boy's wound.
"Creased," he reported. "A sore head, but no great damage. Perhaps ascar later, warrior!" He gave Lupe an encouraging thump on the shoulder,before plastering an aid pack over the cut.
"Now we go!" Nolan spoke with emphatic decision.
"He saw enough of us to know we are not Tatars."
Nolan's eyes were cold, his mouth grim as he faced Travis.
"And how can we fight him--?"
"There is a wall--a wall you cannot see--about him," Lupe broke in."When I would strike at him, I could not!"
"A man with invisible protection and a gun," Jil-Lee took up theargument. "How would you deal with him, younger brother?"
"I don't know," Travis admitted. Yet he also believed that if theywithdrew, left the Red here to be found by his own people, the enemywould immediately begin an investigation of the southern country.Perhaps, pushed by their need for learning more about the Apaches, theywould bring the helicopter in over the mountains. The answer to allApache dangers, for now, lay in the immediate future of this one man.
"He is hurt, he cannot go far on foot. And even if he calls the 'copter,there is no landing place. He will have to move elsewhere to be pickedup." Travis thought aloud, citing the thin handful of points in theirfavor.
Tsoay nodded toward the rim of the ravine. "Rocks up there and rocks canroll. Start an earthslide...."
Something within Travis balked at that. From the first he had beenwilling enough to slug it out with the Red, weapon to weapon, man toman. Also, he had wanted to take a captive, not stand over a body. Butto use the nature of the country against the enemy, that was the oldestApache trick of all and one they would have to be forced to employ.
Nolan had already nodded in assent, and Tsoay and Jil-Lee started off.Even if the Red did possess a protective wall device, could it operatein full against a landslide? They all doubted that.
The Apaches reached the cliff rim without exposing themselves to theenemy's fire. The Red still sat there calmly, his back against the rock,his hands busy with his equipment as if he had all the time in theworld.
Then suddenly came a scream from more than one throat.
"_Dar-u-gar_!" The ancient war cry of the Mongol Hordes.
Then over the lip of the other slope rose a wave of men--their curvedswords out, a glazed set to their eyes--heading for the Amerindians withutter disregard for any personal safety. Menlik in the lead, hisshaman's robe flapping wide below his belt like the wings of someoversized predatory bird. Hulagur ... Jagatai ... men from the outlaws'camp. And they were not striving to destroy their disabled overlord inthe vale below, but to wipe out the Apaches!
Only the fact that the Apaches were already sheltered behind the rocksthey were laboring to dislodge gave them a precious few moments ofgrace. There was no time to use their bows. They could only use knivesto meet the swords of the Tatars, knives and the fact tha
t they couldfight with unclouded minds.
"He has them under control!" Travis pawed at Jil-Lee's shoulder. "Gethim--they'll stop!"
He did not wait to see if the other Apache understood. Instead, he threwthe full force of his own body against the rock they had made the centerstone of their slide. It gave, rolled, carrying with it and before itthe rest of the piled rubble. Travis stumbled, fell flat, and then abody thudded down upon him, and he was fighting for his life to keep ablade from his throat. Around him were the shouts and cries of embroiledwarriors; then all was silenced by a roar from below.
Glazed eyes in a face only a foot from his own, the twisted, pantingmouth sending gusts of breath into his nostrils. Suddenly there wasreason back in those eyes, a bewilderment, which became fear ...panic.... The Tatar's body twisted in Travis' hold, striving now not toattack, but to win free. As the Apache loosened his grip the otherjerked away, so that for a moment or two they lay gasping, side by side.
Men sat up to look at men. There was a spreading stain down Jil-Lee'sside and one of the Tatars sprawled near him, both his hands on hischest, coughing violently.
Menlik clawed at the trunk of a wind-twisted mountain tree, pulledhimself to his feet, and stood swaying as might a man long ill andrecovering from severe exertion.
Insensibly both sides drew apart, leaving a space between Tatar andApache. The faces of the Amerindians were grim, those of the Mongolsbewildered and then harsh as they eyed their late opponents with dawningreason. What had begun in compulsion for the Tatars might well flare nowinto rational combat--and from that to a campaign of extermination.
Travis was on his feet. He looked over the lip of the drop. The Red wasstill in his place down there, a pile of rubble about him. Hisprotection must have failed, for his head was back at an unnatural angleand the dent in his helmet could be easily seen.
"That one is dead--or helpless!" Travis cried out. "Do you still wish tofight for him, Shaman?"
Menlik came away from the tree and walked to the edge of the drop. Theothers, too, were moving forward. After the shaman looked down hestooped, picked up a small stone, and flung it at the motionless Red.There was a crack of sound. They all saw the tiny spurt of flame, a curlof smoke from the plate on the Red's chest. Not only the man, but hiscontrol was finished now.
A wolfish growl and two of the Tatars swung over, started down to theRed. Menlik shouted and they slackened pace.
"We want that," he cried in English. "Perhaps so we can learn--"
"The learning is yours," Jil-Lee replied. "Just as this land is yours,Shaman. But I warn you, from this day do not ride south!"
Menlik turned, the charms on his belt clicking. "So that is the way itis to be, Apache?"
"That is the way it shall be, Tatar! We do not ride to war with allieswho may turn their knives against our backs because they are slaves to amachine the enemy controls."
The Tatar's long, slender-fingered hands opened and closed. "You are awise man, Apache, but sometimes more than wisdom alone is needed----"
"We are wise men, Shaman, let it rest there," Jil-Lee replied somberly.
Already the Apaches were on their way, putting two cliff ridges behindthem before they halted to examine and cover their wounds.
"We go." Nolan's chin lifted, indicating the southern route. "Here wedo not come again; there is too much witchcraft in this place."
Travis stirred, saw that Jil-Lee was frowning at him.
"Go--?" he repeated.
"Yes, younger brother? You would continue to run with these who aregoverned by a machine?"
"No. Only, eyes are needed on this side of the mountains."
"Why?" This time Jil-Lee was plainly on the side of the conservatives."We have now seen this machine at work. It is fortunate that the Red isdead. He will carry no tales of us back to his people as you feared.Thus, if we remain south from now on, we are safe. And this fightbetween Tatar and Red is none of ours. What do you seek here?"
"I must go again to the place of the towers," Travis answered with thetruth. But his friends were facing him with heavy disapproval--now afull row of Deklays.
"Did you not tell us that you felt this strange thing during the nightwe waited about the camp? What if you become one with these Tatars andare also controlled by the machine? Then you, too, can be made into aweapon against us--your clansmen!" Jil-Lee was almost openly hostile.
Sense was on his side. But in Travis was this other desire of which hewas becoming more conscious by the minute. There was a reason for thosetowers, perhaps a reason important enough for him to discover and runthe risk of angering his own people.
"There may be this--" Nolan's voice was remote and cold, "you mayalready be a piece of this thing, bound to the machines. If so, we donot want you among us."
There it was--an open hostility with more power behind it than Deklay'smotiveless disapproval had carried. Travis was troubled. The family, theclan--they were important. If he took the wrong step now and wasoutlawed from that tight fortress, then as an Apache he would indeed bea lost man. In the past of his people there had been renegades from thetribe--men such as the infamous Apache Kid who had killed and killedagain, not only white men but his own people. Wolf men living wolves'lives in the hills. Travis was threatened with that. Yet--up the ladderof civilization, down the ladder--why did this feverish curiosity ridehim so cruelly now?
"Listen," Jil-Lee, his side padded with bandages, stepped closer--"andtell me, younger brother, what is it that you seek in these towers?"
"On another world there were secrets of the old ones to be found in suchancient buildings. Here that might also be true."
"And among the secrets of those old ones," Nolan's voice was stillharsh--"were those which brought us to this world, is that not so?"
"Did any man drive you, Nolan, or you, Tsoay, or you, Jil-Lee, or any ofus, to promise to go beyond the stars? You were told what might be done,and you were eager to try it. You were all volunteers!"
"Save for this voyage when we were told nothing," Jil-Lee answered,cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Yet, Nolan, I do notbelieve that it is for more voyage tapes that our younger brother nowsearches, nor would those do us any good--as our ship will not riseagain from here. What is it that you do seek?"
"Knowledge--weapons, maybe. Can we stand against these machines of theReds? Yet many of the devices they now use are taken from the star shipsthey have looted through time. To every weapon there is a defense."
Nolan blinked and for the first time a hint of interest touched the maskof his face. "To the bow, the rifle," he said softly, "to the rifle, themachine gun, to the cannon, the big bomb. The defense can be far worsethan the first weapon. So you think that in these towers there may bethings which shall be to the Reds' machines as the bomb is to the cannonof the Horse Soldiers?"
Travis had an inspiration. "Did not our people lay aside the bow for therifle when we went up against the Bluecoats?"
"We do not so go up against these Reds!" protested Lupe.
"Not now. But what if they come across the mountains, perhaps drivingthe Tatars before them to do their fighting--?"
"And you believe that if you find weapons in these towers, you will knowhow to use them?" Jil-Lee asked. "What will give you that knowledge,younger brother?"
"I do not claim such knowledge," Travis countered. "But this much I dohave: Once I studied to be an archaeologist and I have seen otherstorehouses of these star people. Who else among us can say as much asthat?"
"That is the truth," Jil-Lee acknowledged. "Also there is good sense inthis seeking out of the tower things. Let the Reds find such first--ifthey exist at all--and then we may truly be caught in a box canyon withonly death at our heels."
"And you would go to these towers now?" Nolan demanded.
"I can cut across country and then rejoin you on the other side of thepass!" The feeling of urgency which had been mounting in Travis was nowso demanding that he wanted to race ahead through the wilderness. He wassurprised
when Jil-Lee put out his palm up as if to warn the youngerman.
"Take care, younger brother! This is not a lucky business. And remember,if one goes too far down a wrong trail, there is sometimes noreturning--"
"We shall wait on the other side of the pass for one day," Nolan added."Then--" he shrugged--"where you go will be your own affair."
Travis did not understand that promise of trouble. He was already twosteps down his chosen path.