Time's Last Gift

by Philip José Farmer

  Several had dreamed that Gribardsun led them south. Since the dreams were obviously wishes, and since they felt protected and provided for under Gribardsun, they wished him to conduct them into the paradise.

  Glamug came to the Englishman and told him of what his people had dreamed. Gribardsun agreed with Glamug’s analysis. Yes, he would be happy to guide them into the unknown lands to the south. They should start as soon as the long gray vessel was hauled up to the top of the hill and secured.

  The ground was frozen, and a thin coat of ice had covered it after a partial snow. Even though they had gotten over most of their awe of the travelers themselves - though they retained all the original respect - they had never approached the vessel. Now, under Gribardsun’s urgings, they poled over the vessel until they had it on wooden and bone sleds. Ivory and bone wedges were driven into the slots on top of the sleds to keep the vessel from rolling off.

  Meanwhile, other workers had chopped with reindeer antler picks through the ice and into the frozen earth. Stakes were driven into the holes. The long rawhide ropes were attached to the sleds and the other ends run several times around the stakes. The tribe, digging in their boots into the chopped-out steps along the slide, heaved on the ropes. The sleds and their three-hundred-ton burden moved slowly} oh, so slowly, upward.

  It took until past dusk to get the H. G. Wells I over the crest of the steep hill. The work was carried on by burning pine torches and by lights set up by the travelers. The air was cold; the breaths steamed; and their sweat froze on their faces and on their beards. But they had eaten well, and Rachel had made gallons of hot cocoa, which the tribe tasted for the first time and could not get enough of. Gribardsun kept up a stream of jokes and worked alongside them, pitting himself against Angrogrim, who tried to show that he was not only as big as a horse but as strong as one.

  By ten o’clock that night, without the death or injury of a single person, they had restored the vessel to its original position. Large boulders were rolled alongside to keep it from moving in any direction.

  ‘There’s nothing to keep some wandering tribe from rolling it down again if they want to go to the trouble,’ Gribardsun said. ‘But I doubt that anybody will touch it. It’s too frighteningly alien for these people.’

  The following morning was bright and clear, though cold. The tribe packed their tents and other artifacts and piled them on travois-like poles. These had broad ends, somewhat like skis, which slid over the snow without sinking much. The women and the juvenile males pulled the travois while the men spread out ahead, behind, and on the flanks as guards. They all sang the Going-Away Song, taking farewell of the place which had protected them for three seasons and to which they would return - if they were fortunate.

  They also sang the Song of Shimg’gaimq, a legendary hero who had led the tribe from the far south in the far past. At the end of the song they substituted Gribardsun’s name for Shimg’gaimq; the implication was that he was a new hero and even greater than the old.

  The trek southward was slow. Heavy snows began to fall, and there were days when they could do nothing but hole up. Rachel and Drummond tended to stay huddled up inside their foam hut, which had been transported on skis. Gribardsun and von Billmann went out with the hunters, and they used their rifles. To have restricted themselves to native weapons might have meant that the tribe would starve, or at least go very hungry for some time. The game just seemed to have disappeared. Yet they knew that the deep snows hid plenty of bison and reindeer. The behemoth mammoths and rhinoceroses should also be somewhere around, penned in by high walls of snow. If they could be located, they could be speared with little chance of their escaping.

  Gribardsun finally located a ‘yard’ which held a herd of thirty bison. He shot three males, and they butchered them while the other bulls pawed the snow-streaked grasses and snorted and made rumbling noises. But none charged, and presently the carcasses of the bulls were hauled away in many pieces. Then the big gray wolves appeared and devoured what the men had left behind. The last Gribardsun saw of them, they were slinking toward the herd. He doubted that they would dare attack in the ‘yard’ where the bulls had freedom of movement and the wolves could not get away swiftly.

  The tribe ate for three days and then set out again. They continued through the deep snows, with frequent rest stops, until they came to the foothills of the Pyrenees. The passes of the range were blocked with snow and ice. The tribe could either camp until after the spring thaws - and much of the snow never melted even in the summer - or go around the mountains by way of the sea.

  Here Gribardsun met his first serious resistance from the Wota’shaimg. They knew nothing of boats; they did not even know how to swim. When they learned what was expected of them, they refused. They would not set out on the ghastly gray seas even if they could stay dose to the shore. The very idea paralyzed them with terror.

  The travelers built a boat by hollowing out a log. (This far south there were some trees large enough to provide adequate trunks for dugouts.) The four worked energetically for three days, and on the fourth they launched the craft in the heavy-rolling bitterly cold surf of what would some day be called the Bay of Biscay. They paddled around for an hour to demonstrate to the tribe what could be done with a boat. Then they returned to the beach to still unconvinced observers. And that was all the people wanted to be: observers. Participation was unthinkable for them, or so they claimed.

  There were only two exceptions. Angrogrim volunteered to accompany them, since he felt that his reputation for courage must be upheld. The other was Laminak, who said she would go wherever Gribardsun went.

  The Englishman seized on this chance to hold up the others to scorn. Were they fearful to go where a twelve-year-old girl dared to go? Were the men of the Wota’shaimg really less brave than a girl-child?

  Gribardsun pressed this line and finally said that he would make up a song about the cowardly warriors of the Bear People if they did not show some guts very quickly. And so the men, and then the women, reluctantly agreed to build boats and set out along the coast. But it was two weeks before the people were able to handle the craft well enough, and several times a boat was capsized and the paddlers dumped. Three caught pneumonia but were brought quickly back to health with Gribardsun’s medicine. Every person wore an inflatable preserver around their waist. These had been brought from the time-vessel stores. There were so many in the stores because Gribardsun thought they might come in handy if supplies and specimens were to be hauled by boat at any time. The floaters could support large heavy containers if they should chance to get dumped into the water. In the meantime some were used as stabilizers on the primitive craft.

  The fleet of ten large dugouts left the shores of what would some day be Gaul, and then France, and the boats, staying close to the shore, crept around the northern edge of the Iberian Peninsula. Near what would be the site of Lisbon, the boats put in for the last time and were dragged inshore and hidden. The Bear People were much relieved; at no time had they become fond of sea life, and they hoped never to have to endure it again.

  Gribardsun led them across the peninsula, angling southeastward most of the time. They crossed great plains and went through heavy forests. Here the animal life was somewhat different; red deer and wild pigs were numerous, and there were many shaggy forest horses. But there were also great brown mountains of bison and woolly rhinos and mammoths, though these were not as numerous as on the other side of the Pyrenees. Conditions were changing, and within a thousand years or perhaps even less, the behemoths would be extinct in Iberia. The forest elephant was replacing them. The cave bear and lion and hyena were numerous enough to require caution in hunting. And the tribesmen of Iberia were as hostile as their northern kinsmen. These, however, were easily dispersed with a few shots fired into the air or, if they persisted, were routed with a few hypodermic missiles containing a drug. The missiles were not harmless; they struck with considerable impact and left great painful bruises and sometimes broke
ribs or arms. But they did not kill except once, when a hostile warrior, allergic to the drug, died in a seizure a few minutes after being shot.

  Gribardsun dissected the corpse thoroughly, taking photographs of every organ, analyzing the blood and other tissues and studying the genetic structure. In the meantime, von Billmann recorded the speech of three prisoners. By the time they were released, they had supplied him with a basic grammar and about six thousand vocabulary items. One of the prisoners, however, died a few hours before his fellows were given their freedom. He seemed to have nothing outwardly wrong with him; he just gave up the ghost and died. Gribardsun thought that the death was the result of an alarm syndrome. His dissection confirmed his diagnosis. The man had gone into a shock from which he could not recover. He had been terrified from the time he woke up to find himself in the hands of alien peoples. And he had, unfortunately, seen Gribardsun carry off parts of the first dissection into the woods where he left them for the wolves to eat. He expected a similar fate, no doubt.

  Von Billmann, however, was rejoicing. He was sure that his prisoners spoke a language which just might be the ancestor, or collateral ancestor, of Basque speech. It would be impossible to confirm it until the scientists made an extensive study after the vessel returned. In addition, of course, the evidence collected by the next expedition, planned for 8000 B.C., would have to be compared with von Billmann’s. The glottochronology of a language over many thousands of years would show a considerable change. In fact, the stages of most languages separated by three thousand years would look like two entirely unrelated tongues to the layman and, indeed, to all but the most astute linguists. There were some tongues that resisted change more than others, such as Lithuanian and Russian; the stages of these did not show nearly as much mutation as, say, that between vulgar Latin and modern French.

  But 12,000 years changed any language so much that the untutored would doubt that there was any relationship among the various branches which had evolved from it. Thus, the nonlinguist finds it difficult to believe that English, Russian, and Hindustani sprang from the same parent tongue. And the parent was only 3,500 years old. How much more degeneration in 12,000 years?

  ‘The theory, which is entirely unbacked by evidence, is that the Basque tongues of our day are the last descendants of a vast superfamily which once existed all over Europe and perhaps in North Africa and parts of Asia,’ Robert said. ‘But the rise of Indo-Hittite speakers swept away most of the Ur-Basque speakers. A small group, or small groups, of Indo-Hittites in the area near the Elbe River expanded. And through conquest and absorption imposed their dialects on other areas. And these changed, in time, to become the parents of the Germanic, Slavic, Baltic, Italic, Hellenic, Hittite, Tocharian, Armenian, and Indie tongues, and God knows what others that history does not record. That is why I am so eager to go to that area and determine if I can find languages which could be pre-Indo-Hittite. Then the expedition in 8000 B.C. can get later specimens. Then we can establish some sort of glottochronology!’

  Von Billmann paced back and forth while his whole being glowed. His love for ancient languages was far more passionate, and enduring than any he could have had for a woman. Or so it seemed to Rachel who, however, was given to exaggeration. Von Billmann admitted that there were probably just as many tribes in France, and perhaps in any section of Europe, which used the pre-Basque languages, as there were in Iberia. But since one had been found here - or at least one had been found which might be pre-Basque - then it was likely that there were others in this area. Therefore, more speakers should be captured.

  There was an ethical point to consider in his proposal. It was one thing to drug and capture men who attacked. But did the scientists have the right to track down human beings and imprison them even if it was only for a while? And for the sake of science, of course?

  Gribardsun said that they had only four years here, and that their time was so limited that they could make only a spot check here and there. They could not resolve the existence of widespread pre-Basque speech if they were overly scrupulous about the aborigines’rights.’ He meant to get specimens. After all, they would be treated well, and he would load them down with meat when he released them.

  Rachel objected. She said that one man had died of shock just from being imprisoned. It was likely that what had happened once would happen again.

  ‘That was only because I wasn’t prepared for such an event,’ the Englishman said. ‘I have the drugs to counteract shock, and at the first symptom of an alarm syndrome, I’ll use the drugs.’

  Rachel did not like it, but she gave in. Drummond said that these people would all be dead in a short time anyway, and that the benefits to science overrode any small inconvenience the aborigines might have.

  ‘Would you say that if some time traveler from A.D. 3000 put you in a cage for scientific study?’ Rachel said.

  ‘Sure I would. I might not like the practice, but I would never refute the theory.’

  Gribardsun, von Billmann, Angrogrim, and Dubhab went hunting for ‘specimens.’ They found a young woman and her two children carrying firewood. Gribardsun hesitated; he did not want to frighten the children.

  ‘If we start discrimination, we’ll end up not taking any specimens,’ von Billmann said. ‘But then that may be the best thing.’

  He was evidently having second thoughts.

  ‘The woman may have a baby which is being taken care of temporarily by a neighbor or an old woman,’ the Englishman said.

  ‘The children will be horribly frightened,’ von Billmann said.

  Gribardsun smiled, shrugged, and stepped out from behind the big rock. The woman saw him first. Screaming, she dropped her firewood, grabbed her children’s hands, forcing them to drop their wood, and ran away. The four men followed her slowly, and by the time they reached the camp, they were confronted by a dozen armed warriors, howling defiance and shaking spears and stone axes.

  Establishing peaceful relations with this tribe took time, of course. But a display of two colorful and loud shots from a Very gun quietened them down. Gribardsun approached them making signs of peace. It so happened that none of his signs agreed with theirs, but they understood the intent back of them. And though it took three days before the travelers could approach a tribesman without the person beginning to shake and to edge away, the time spent was well worth it. Now, instead of only several terrified prisoners, the scientists had an entire tribe to study. They stayed on good terms by a display of magic tricks and by shooting several bison and holding a great feast afterward.

  Their own tribe finally overcame their suspicious hostility and mingled with the other for a while. But this put such a strain on everybody that Gribardsun requested the Wota’shaimg to stay away from the strangers.

  Von Billmann was happy because he had a new language but unhappy because it seemed to be totally unrelated to his pre-Basque specimen.

  After two weeks, the scientists led the Wota’shaimg away. But they made contact with another tribe farther south, the largest unit encountered so far. This consisted of eighty individuals, and they used hardwood boomerangs. Moreover, their speech was obviously related to the Wotagrub of the north. Von Billmann settled down for a three-weeks’ recording and interview session. At the end of that time, the two groups said farewell at a big feast of horse and ibex meat, most of which was provided by Gribardsun’s rifle.

  It was during this time that the scientists began to have trouble with Dubhab.

  Dubhab was a friendly man, usually smiling and joking. But behind the jesting was a determination to get all he could from everybody he met. Dubhab was the ancestor of all con men. And he was exceedingly ambitious. Unlike the others, he was not content with his position in the tribe. He might never have tried to move out of his place in the pecking order if the four strangers had not shown up. But from the beginning he had been very interested in the principles and operation of the firearms and the drugs and medicines.

  Gribardsun had explained as well
as he could within the technically limited vocabulary of the Wota’shaimg. And he had permitted Dubhab to handle the firearms and to shoot animals several times.

  This was a mistake. The other authorities, jealous, asked to use the guns. Gribardsun saw that it would not be good if the tribesmen overcame their awe of the thunder sticks, as they called them. They might actually try to seize them and turn them on the scientists, though this did not seem probable, since the tribesmen knew that the four strangers had many other resources. And they also regarded them as not quite human; as being, in essence, spirits in flesh.

  Gribardsun denied the requests. He said that Dubhab had been allowed to handle the guns only to test his reaction to them. It was thought wiser not to let anybody else try them, and, furthermore, Dubhab would be denied their use from now on. Dubhab smiled and said that whatever the strangers wished was his wish also. But Gribardsun wondered what was behind that smile and the big blue eyes. Dubhab continued to praise the charms of his older daughter Neliska and to say openly that Gribardsun should take her as a mate. There was no doubt that Dubhab hoped to profit from his position as father-in-law.

  Neliska said that she would be honored to become Gribardsun’s mate. Gribardsun said that Neliska was very desirable, but he had no plans for taking a mate for some time.

  Dubhab then suggested, when he was alone with Gribardsun, that the Englishman take Neliska without benefit of the marriage ceremony. A great spirit such as Gribardsun would not be bound by the conventions that bound mere human beings. And Neliska would be happy to bear a child to the great spirit.

  Gribardsun told Dubhab to shut up about this business or he would turn him in to the elders. And the elders might consider exiling Dubhab for even thinking of breaking the customs of the tribe.

  Dubhab turned gray at this remark. Like all preliterates, he dreaded more than anything being cut off from his tribe. The mere suggestion turned his bones to ice.