by Andre Norton
Voak made the down and back muzzle assent of his species. “People go far—bad ones not find.”
“Bad ones can move through the air faster than People can travel.” Jony hoped that Voak would agree that was true. He, himself, was under no illusions as to how successful the flyer and the sky ship were.
Perhaps Voak wanted to deny that, but he could not. Instead he made a dismissing sign which Jony must obey. Taking Maba's hand, the boy crossed to the other side of the campsite, allowing the People to discuss the matter in their own way. Only he was sure of his own plans.
“Jony, what if they won't go to the place of stones?” Maba asked.
“I shall have to go anyway,” he told her. Best get that settled now.
“And me,” she said promptly.
“No! You will stay with Yaa and the People.” He was going to be firm about that.
Some of her old rebellion countered that order instantly. “I won't! I know more about the place of pictures than you do. I found the way in. If you try to go without me, I'll follow.”
She would, too, he had no doubts about that. Nor did Jony believe that the People would make any move to prevent her.
“Geogee's there,” she was continuing. “And, Jony, Geogee, he likes Volney, he follows him around all the time. Volney has promised him he can learn to fly a sky ship someday. I don't think Geogee would listen if you told him they're bad. But he might listen to me.”
“Who is Volney?” Jony demanded.
“He's the one of them who knows how to make things go up and travel in the air,” Maba explained. “Geogee is all excited about the machines. He told them lots about what he saw in the place of stones. And I heard them talking, they think some of those old people left very important things there. Geogee will want to stay with them, not us, unless we can make him understand.”
She was very serious about this, and Jony knew that she was telling the full truth. The tie between the twins was a deep one, it could well be true that Maba could accomplish more in making Geogee understand the danger threatened by these strangers than he ever could. But he hated to take her with him into what might be not only hopeless but a dangerous struggle.
“I will go!” She returned to her own statement of fact.
Before he could find any answer, Voak broke from the cluster of the People, came toward them. Jony could read nothing, of course, in that furred face, but Voak's paw-hands were moving.
“We go—to see . . .”
At least he had won that much, thought Jony, soberly, but not in triumph. He could be entirely wrong, leading them all into danger. There was only that instinct within him saying stubbornly that this was all which was left for them to do.
FOURTEEN
Their party did not approach the place of stones (which Maba said the spacemen referred to as a “city”) by the way Jony had done so before, openly down that solid river which flowed directly into its heart. Once Voak had assented to this journey, he had taken command of their small party, leaving behind the females and the young under orders to move off to the west, into a region of deeper and more impenetrable woods which they hoped would be a barrier against any more attacks from the flyer.
Their own return journey north had followed, at the best pace of the People. Even Jony, impatient as he was, realized the wisdom of not becoming too tired before they reached their goal. Such progress demanded the better part of two days of travel, with only a short interval of rest during the dark hours.
Once more they crossed the open fields about the river of stone before working back into those ridges which Jony believed were near the place of the cage. This passage took them almost the whole of another day before they reached a ridge point from which the city could be viewed, not from the front, but directly from the rear.
Jony sighted no sign of the flyer. However, the machine could have set down on the far side of the cluster of rising walls. As he lay near Voak, concealed by the grass and brush on the crest, the boy used his own method of locating who might be below.
Even if those on the flyer had been warned in some way (Maba stated positively the off-worlders were able to communicate even at a distance by using machines) to set up that same mind barrier the ship people had used to repel his control, the very fact they did this would be assurance they were still here.
He sought Geogee, fixing a picture of the boy in his mind, sending out a probe to pick up the familiar pattern of the twin's thought processes. Jony encountered no barrier—and—yes! So faint was it that he was not sure he could track the touch with any certainty to where Geogee was. But he had caught it.
Voak raised himself head and shoulders from the ground. His wide nostrils expanded, to flatten again visibly. Then the clansman ducked his head in the gesture of agreement before Jony had a chance to report his own findings.
Crabwise, Voak retreated from the top of the ridge. Jony slipped after him. When that bulk of earth and stone wall stood between them and the city, the remainder of Voak's people drew in to meet the scouts.
“Scent—strong—they—there.” Voak signed.
He looked gravely at Jony who was trying to think of what to do next. Whether the ship had warned the men in the city was unknown. If the off-worlders had been so alerted, then the chance of his own party's success was lessened.
Remembering the stone-walled dens, Jony knew that there were places in plenty where one could play hide-and-seek. Thus the People, with their natural tendency to take cover efficiently at need, might still well work their way in secretly. Only, the strangers had the superior weapons, that could operate at a distance and far more effectively. Also—would the People even consent to enter the city?
His companions were talking in their own speech. Jony sat quietly, his hands clasped on the metal shaft which had been returned to him, frowning a little as he thought of one ghost of a plan and then another, rejecting each in turn. Then he remembered, with sudden and complete clarity, the cage in the mountains. Why it came to him at that moment he did not know.
There lay the evidence that the People, in the past, had been able to deal with those having superior weapons, and very effectively! He hunched forward and his change in position must have registered on Voak. For the clanchief swung his head a little to again eye Jony with that steady regard.
The next move depended on how much Voak could or would tell Jony, and then on whether the People would trust him fully. He longed bitterly for the power to read their thoughts, more so than he ever had in his life before. But he . . .
Voak signed: “What do?”
Had the clansman guessed that Jony did have, at last, a nebulous idea? One, however, that depended so much on others, having so many flaws even he could see, that it might also fail?
“The People were there,” Jony tried to sort out in signs what he must learn, if they would let him. He pointed to the ridge behind which lay the city. “They wore collars, they were things . . .”
Voak made no assenting gesture to that. Jony refused to be daunted.
“How People be freed?” He made his question boldly.
For a long instant he was afraid Voak would refuse to answer. There came a series of sounds from others about, until Voak signed silence with a paw-hand. His muzzle sank forward until it nearly rested against the pied-fur on his chest. Jony waited.
Maba, who had squatted beside the boy, moved. Jony put out his own hand in a signal to be still. This time he could guess that Voak was weighing the idea of telling, by doing so perhaps breaking some old rule of his own kind.
At last the other raised his black-skinned hands, beginning to sign slowly, as if he wanted to make very sure Jony understood.
“Those—were sick. Many died. People did not die. People strong. People break collars—out of cages . . . They make trap. Catch those—take them out—away from place where those had strong things to hurt—to kill. Put in place they could not get strong things—Those die. People free. Not again collars for People.”
&
nbsp; An illness had weakened the makers of the city and left them open to a rebellion of the People. This trap . . .
“In the place of stones,” Jony asked, “there was a trap?”
Voak dipped his head.
“It is still there?”
“Long time—who knows?” came the clansman's answer.
“Could you find it?” Jony persisted.
Again that moment of silence before the People spoke together. Finally Voak replied: “No know.”
“Would you seek for it?” This was one of the first of the most important points he must make. Jony had persuaded the People to approach the city, but would they actually enter it?
“Why?” Voak's counter question was a single gesture.
“If the trap there, perhaps catch these also,” Jony answered.
“They no sick, they have bad things. Make People go sleep—wake in sky ship again.”
“I go—alone . . . place of stones. I find those, make them think I am clankin. They listen, I tell of things to be found. Take them to trap.”
There, he had outlined his poor plan, and, even as he had proposed it, Jony knew that there were so many ways it could go wrong. If those on the ship had contacted the party in the city, then they would know Jony for the enemy. And . . .
“I go,” Maba said, first aloud, and then in sign for the People to read. “Don't you see, Jony,” she added in speech, “I can say you made me believe things were wrong. But I have changed now, and I need to be with Geogee, that I want to be friends with them. They know me, they would believe me sooner than they would you.”
“No!” Jony's refusal was sharp. There was logic in what she urged. Only, if any message had come from the ship, those down in the city would be aware of the important part the girl had played in their escape.
“They would believe me,” she repeated with much of her usual stubbornness, “before they would you.”
Voak could not have understood their exchange. However, he arose ponderously to his feet, the rest moving with him.
“We go—place of stones.” He made a statement of that, as forceful as an order.
* * *
They did not descend the ridge in plain sight of any who might have been watching, as Jony half-feared they might, but turned more to the east. Voak took the lead; Trush and old Gorni fell in behind him. Then came Jony and Maba, the others furnishing a rear guard. Their path led along a narrow valley below the ridge, heading on toward those taller heights behind the city.
And, as the clansmen had earlier done on their visit to the cave of the cage, the People strode along in a matched step, bringing their staffs (those who had them) butt down against the ground with a regular thumping. As yet they had not raised their voices, but Jony was worried. Such a noisy advance could possibly betray them to some machine of the flyer. Only he knew better than to try to urge caution on the People at this point. They knew the danger. Undoubtedly they were moving to counteract it in their own way.
The valley became a very narrow slit. Then, for the first time, Jony saw stones cropping out of the thin soil. The city builders had been here also.
It was against certain of those stones (he could not tell why, for their choices seemed to follow no pattern that Jony could determine) that the clansmen now thudded their staffs. The resulting sound was hollow and echoing. Jony tried to listen beyond that muffled pounding, fearing to hear the buzz of the investigating flyer.
At last the valley came to an abrupt end in a wall which a fall of earth had revealed completely. The stones which formed this obstruction were not all alike. Even with the weathering and discoloring to confuse the eye, Jony could make out the outline of a former opening into which rougher and less finished rocks had been forced as a plug.
Two of the clansmen drew apart, stood thumping the butts of their staffs, not against those stones sealing the old opening, but aiming at the solid wall on either side. Voak, Trush, and Otik padded forward, extending their claws to pry between the plug rocks, digging to free them from their long setting. Jony pushed up to join them. Motioning the clansmen back, he inserted the point of his metal staff into those crevices, digging free soil, levering them apart.
They cleared the way at last, to be faced by a dark opening from which issued cold, dank air. Jony uneasily surveyed the way ahead. He had no liking for venturing into an unknown dark.
Then Voak signed to him. “Give staff!”
Amazed, Jony gaped at the other's outstretched paw-hand. For a moment he thought that the clansman again mistrusted him, wanted him unarmed as they advanced. So his grasp on the weapon tightened. He was determined not to yield.
Voak must have read his fears, for once more the clansman's fingers moved.
“Must have staff—need for going.”
Well, Jony and Maba still had the two stunners they had brought from the ship. And Voak certainly knew more about this hidden way than he did. Reluctantly the boy passed over his find to the clansman.
Voak raised the metal length, seemed to weigh it in hand for the best grip, before he sent the butt thudding against the wall, his round, furred head unmoving as if he listened for some necessary answering sound. The thump was certainly sharper and clearer than that which came from meeting of the wooden ones with the wall. Voak gave one last mighty swing, to clang against rock, and then advanced, passing into the dark passage, thumping the staff as he went. The others fell into the same line of march they had earlier held. As they went, Maba's hand caught Jony's and her fingers tightened.
“Where are we going?” she asked in a voice hardly above a whisper.
“Into the city—somehow,” he answered her, trying to make his tone casual and reassuring. Though, as the light behind them grew dimmer and dimmer, the way before darker, he found it hard to hold to any high pitch of confidence.
The beat of the staff butts continued regularly. Jony wished he knew the reason for this. Was the gesture one only of ceremony, to be used when approaching a place forbidden now to their kind? Or did that pounding have a more definite and practical purpose? At least this passage remained level; there was no sudden drop to slide down into the unknown as had been part of his earlier adventure.
The air was flat and held strong earthy odors. Jony's head began to ache a little, a condition increased by every thump of staff butt.
The boy tried to guess what lay about them in the dark. It seemed to him this was no longer a narrow passage but a wider space, for he fancied there was a different ring to the faint echoing of their pounding. If he turned his head for a second or two, he could catch the faint gleam of his companions' eyes.
Maba said nothing, but her grip on his hand continued very tight, and he could gauge her tenseness by that. Jony longed to give her some assurance that there would soon be an end. But that he could not know.
Again, as had happened earlier, there grew slowly a show of gray light ahead. Shortly, the light showed that they were indeed in a much vaster open area. Voak kept to a straight course between two rows of the stone pillars. Was this another part of the storehouse? If so they must be doubly on their guard, or they might be betrayed by the noise the People continued to make. But there were no signs of any of those boxed containers, no paintings on the walls. This was only a bare, grim-looking burrow revealed in a limited amount of dusky light. They neared another wall. At last Jony could make out against that a series of ledges which the people of the city had used to gain heights above.
Voak had not thumped for the last two strides, nor had any of the others. His head now stretched to the highest angle he could hold it, so his muzzle pointed up the rise of the ledges. There was light enough for Jony to see that the clansmen were sniffing.
To Jony's less sensitive nose there was nothing to be scented but the musty smell which had hung about them ever since they had entered this way. But he knew that the People were far better endowed than he.
Whatever Voak searched for, he seemed satisfied. Without any signed explanation, he beg
an to climb. Now there was no pounding with their staffs, they moved in that absolute silence their big hind paws could keep when there was need.
Before long they emerged into the full light of sunset. That rich glow lay in a broad path directly to the head of the ascent, as if to welcome them, issuing through a wall slit placed well above Jony's head. He looked around, and, not too far ahead, saw the place of the sleeper. The hidden underground ways had led them straight to the heart of the city.
As the clansmen hesitated for the first time, Jony pressed past them. Sounds kept him from advancing very far. Voices, surely; only so muffled that he could not make out separate words. The spacemen—down in the passage to the storage room!
Geogee? Once more Jony concentrated on reaching the boy. No barrier here as he had feared. The force of his thought swept swiftly into the boy's mind. Too swiftly, too forcefully perhaps. Jony withdrew. Had Geogee betrayed them to the others with his shock as Jony made contact?
He wriggled the stunner out of the front of his ship garment where he had stowed it for safekeeping. If their party could now only take the spacemen by surprise while the invaders explored below . . .
Voices coming nearer . . . Jony did not really have to make any warning sign. The People had already melted away into the shadows, Maba with them. Jony slipped from one pillar to the next, using those huge rounds of stone for cover just as he would the trees of a wood.
He was nearly opposite the other entrance, and he already had proof that the spacemen were doing more than just exploring below. After all, they had had some time to select from the stores of the city people. So there was a tall stack of the colored boxes built up in a wall-like pile, their brilliant hues all mixed together. In how many were power rods? Jony could not possibly guess, and he had no time to investigate. For two of the suited invaders advanced into the open, another box carried between them.
They were pulled to one side by the weight of what they carried. Jony took a long chance to aim in a way which he hoped would catch them both. He pressed the firing button.