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World of the Drone

Page 11

by Robert Abernathy

above them.

  They sank down to catch their breath on a rock not far from the tunnel.They'd made it none too soon--only a minute or two had passed when thenight once more buzzed with motor noise, and a column of foraging dronesrolled up the trail and plunged at full speed into the mouth of theshaft.

  Qanya buried her face against Dworn's shoulder.

  "Easy, now," Dworn whispered, patting her with clumsy gentleness. "Theworst's over. We made it ... Qanya, darling, we made it!"

  She looked up at him and by the moonlight he saw her smile tremulously.She said breathlessly, "Would ... would you mind saying that again,please?"

  * * * * *

  The moon was already high as they trudged across the rolling desertbeyond the foot of the great landslip.

  After the tunnel, the rest of the descent had been relatively easy;they had followed the trail used by the wingless drones, being forcedoff it only once by the passage of a cavalcade of the littlemarauders. And they had discovered, to their surprise, that the humanphysique--inferior though it might be to machines in ruggedness, speed,and other respects--was better equipped for traversing rough terrainthan the most ingenious vehicle ever constructed.

  But both of them, unaccustomed as they were to walking on their ownfeet, were dead weary. They tramped on doggedly, searching the shadows,hoping to come upon some living machine-creature--of what race, didn'tmatter now.

  So far they had seen only abundant evidence that the drones were abroadin force tonight, preparing perhaps for their swarming time. Drones inthe air and on the ground, and once the burnt-out shell of anunidentifiable machine with a crew of the wingless salvagers worryingit, and once the light of fires afar off where the winged ones had madea kill....

  Qanya stumbled, and Dworn caught her round the waist as she swayed.

  "Tired," she gasped in a little girl's voice, then stiffened her backwith a resolute effort.

  "We'd better rest--"

  "No," she said shakily; and then abruptly: "_Listen!_"

  Not very far away, lost somewhere among the tricky moon-shadows, therewas a stealthy crunching. It was coming nearer.

  With instinctive caution the two hugged the pool of shadow beside aboulder.

  "Spiders!" Qanya recognized them first.

  They came prowling out of the shadows, crunching rhythmically across anopen moonlit space towards a hollow beyond. One, two, four of them,moving with furtive caution through the perilous night.

  They had to be intercepted, the warning given. But it was a criticallydangerous moment--suspicious and on edge, they might fire at the firstmovement they saw.

  "Stay here," said Dworn shortly. He thrust Qanya back into the shadows,and walked steadfastly out into the clear moonlight, in the path of thewalking spider machines.

  He raised one hand on high, palm outward in an immemorial gesture thathe could only hope would be seen. He shouted at the top of his voice,"Stop! Don't shoot! I come in _peace_!"

  His heart leaped. The leading spider ground to a halt, and the othersbehind it. He saw a dim figure move atop the foremost towering machine;and before he could speak again, heard the rasping voice of the SpiderMother herself.

  "You! The one who got away--and who seduced one of _us_ from the ways ofher ancestors--? What peace can there be between you and us?"

  "I bring," cried Dworn clearly, "warning of the Drone."

  There was stunned silence.

  Dworn sensed the other spiders watching from the height of theirmachines; and he guessed something of what must be going on in the mindof the fierce old woman staring down at him. She would be wondering ifan alien, a mere beetle, would be so far without honor, so anxious tosave his own skin, as to lie in such a matter.

  Then he felt Qanya's hand in his, and heard her cry out, her voicevibrant and assured: "It is true, Mother! I have seen them too. Thenight-fliers, the raiders--they are the evil things our legends tellof!"

  The great machine took two steps forward and knelt low to the ground."Come here!" rasped the Spider Mother, and when the two advanced tillshe could look into their young faces--"You swear to this?"

  "We swear!" they said at the same moment.

  The Spider Mother's face was like iron. She looked from one to the otherslowly.

  "Then," she said stiffly and formally, leaning over to extend a wrinkledhand to Dworn, "let there be peace between us ... between me and mineand you and yours, and among all living peace ... till the evil is nomore!"

  Dworn took the hand, and answered, hurriedly recalling ancient custom:"Till the evil is no more!" And heard Qanya echo the words.

  * * * * *

  All night the desert was stirring, with a feverish hastening ofmessengers. These were at first spiders--then, members of a half dozen,a dozen other races, as the word was passed from one people toanother--as tribe after tribe of hardbitten, suspicious warriors,fingers, fidgeting on triggers at the open approach of their hereditarymortal foes, heard and were electrified by the news--

  _The Coming of the Drone!_

  And hand gripped hand, all feuds were forgotten, the peoples mingled ina common effort of hurried mobilization. The desert land below thecliffs crawled with them, a mixed multitude of constantly increasingnumbers, girding themselves for war.

  Ferocious predatory machines--spiders, wheel-bugs, scorpions--formidablein their armor and bristling with guns, lay alongside the more pacificslugs and caterpillars and snails which in ordinary times were theirnatural prey, and were freely fuelled and provisioned out of the storeswhich normally their possessors would have fought to the death tosafeguard against the despoilers....

  In the presence of the drones, there were no more natural enmities. Forthe drones were the Enemy. Their coming meant that all life was kindred;deep in the heritage of every people was the almost instinctiveknowledge that, if the drones were not checked as tradition decreed,their blind automatic propagation would end by sweeping every livingthing from the face of the Earth.

  Toward morning, the chiefs of a score of tribes held council of war inthe very shadow of the Barrier. Their consultation was brief; there wasno arguable question of what must be done, only of how. And if thedrones were about to swarm, they must act promptly. No time to wait forthe gathering of more distant peoples; no time to send word to the waspsor the hornets and gain aerial support. They must strike with what theyhad.

  * * * * *

  Dworn started awake as a hand touched his shoulder. He sat up, angrilyflinging a coverlet from him.

  "I didn't intend to sleep!" he muttered, rubbing his eyes and realizingwhere he was--below ground in the spiders' colony, whither he and Qanyahad been taken and where he had been persuaded to lie down and rest alittle while the warning was carried by others.

  The tall blonde spider, Purri, was grinning maliciously down at him."Hear the beetle talk! I suppose, after a day spent in what, for you wascomparative idleness, you felt like doing something really strenuous ...say going out and demolishing the drones' hive bare handed...?"

  Dworn climbed to his feet. With a violent effort he kept from wincing atthe protest of stiffened muscles and yesterday's collection of bruises.

  "What's going on out there now? Where's Qanya?"

  "There's really nothing more _you_ can do, you know. I merely woke youbecause I thought you'd want to hear that your beetle-folk have beencontacted--they'd holed up to lick their wounds about twenty miles southof here--and have joined the fighting force that's getting ready toattack the drones at dawn. As for dear little Qanya, she's sleepingangelically in the next chamber...."

  "No, she isn't," said Qanya from the doorway.

  "You, too?" said Purri with irritation. "And what do you want,scapegrace?"

  Qanya's black eyes narrowed dangerously. She moved forward to Dworn'sside and took a grip on his arm. "I might ask what you're doing heredisturbing--"

  "Both of you, you're wasting time," growled Dworn.
/>   He'd heard with a queer pang that his people--those who remainedalive--had been located. Not that it made any real difference, ofcourse. His father was dead, and he, Dworn, was dead too as far as hisown kind was concerned. Nor, in this world, was there anywhere else hecould turn.

  For the present, under the threat of the Drone, that didn't matter. Alllaws of all peoples were in abeyance for the duration of the greatemergency. But once the threat was dissolved, and the old laws resumedtheir force, the plight of Dworn and of Qanya also would be what it hadbeen--that of outcasts in a world where an outcast had no chance ofsurvival.

  Well, it was no use thinking of the future. Dworn said determinedly: "Iwant to see the end of this business, at least."

  "And I!" declared Qanya. "We've earned

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