CHAPTER FIVE
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AS SHERRET followed Lee through the woods, he found himself accepting second place as a matter of course. Lee was a natural leader, and in a Reparist system would hold office as such. And he would laugh Goffism to scorn. Soon they came to a fair-sized stream gurgling down from the mountains. To Sherret’s surprise, Lee walked into it and, knee-deep, began plowing upstream. Sherret shrugged, then followed the leader.
“No hurry now, and no danger,” said Lee carelessly. “The Creedos can drink only sparingly. Liquid in any quantity—especially fast running water—tends to choke them. They dare not rise through this stream which will lead us clear of the wood belt.”
It was a hard slog uphill against the current, but Sherret set his teeth and endured. At long last the woods thinned, and they emerged on the bare upper slopes. Lee splashed his way to the bank. Relievedly, Sherret joined him on dry ground. The pass was clearly visible now, directly ahead.
“My present home is just at the mouth there,” said Lee, pointing. “A quite cozy cave. Think you can make it or want to rest awhile first?”
“I can make it,” said Sherret grimly.
He did, but his legs were trembling with strain. Almost drained of strength, he flung himself down inside, on a pile of brush. Even Lee seemed glad to rest now. He laid the shield between them and reclined at full length. Presently, Sherret revived enough to examine the shield curiously. He said, “We use a metal something like this on our planet. The molecules are gradually compresed by an artificial magnetic field. It takes years to prepare. We employ it as a cutting tool to shear through the hardest materials. I didn’t realize Amaran science was this far advanced.”
“You’re one of the Earthmen, aren’t you?” said Lee, idly regarding the low-hanging roof. “I’ve heard about you. An effete species, by all accounts. You’ve some shocks coming your way on this planet, my friend. You landed on the barbaric side of Amara. You haven’t contacted any real civilization yet. Don’t imagine you go unwatched. My people have long-range instruments. They could kill you Earthmen without stirring more than a finger, if they chose. But they’re tolerant. The variety of life on Amara teaches one to be tolerant. They won’t harm you so long as you don’t do anything foolish.”
“Such as?”
“Trying to force your way of life on them, for instance. Accept a hint, friend. Confine your attentions to the barbarians.”
“To the Three-people, say?”
Lee looked at him sharply. There was a pause. Then Lee said, almost in a whisper, “Stay away from them… if you want to live.”
“They live somewhere in these parts, don’t they?”
“Yes—down the valley. You can see them from here.”
“I’d be interested to take a look at them. You know, somebody warned me to beware of those who have only two, of those who become three—”
“Of that which becomes many,” Lee finished for him. “Well, I’ve warned you again to beware of those who become three. Heed me. They are much more dangerous than those who have only two—and you’ve just learned by experience to beware of them.”
“The Creedos? What do they have only two of?”
“They have only two dimensions, so the barbarians assume. Strictly speaking, that’s not quite so. They have three dimensions. But their thickness is almost non-existent. When they present themselves edge on—and they always try to—in a poorish light you just can’t see them. But they can see you. They have hundreds of microscopic eyes all over their body—some along the edges. Hundreds of mouths, too—far larger mouths. Greedy, ever-hungry mouths. They live mostly on the juices of vegetation, but they especially relish a drop of animal blood, if they can find it, which isn’t often.”
Sherret licked his lips, which had become dry.
“I presume their feeding technique is to slice through you, sucking in blood as they pass?”
“That’s it—just as they absorb the sap in trees or the juice in roots. They spend most of their time browsing on roots just below ground. But sometimes they surface in patches of rich vegetation, particularly forests—for a change of diet.”
“But, damn it, Lee, surely their internal organs must be too narrow to allow moisture to flow?”
“Why so? How thick is the average tree-leaf? And they’re not even as complicated as a leaf. They’re not thinking animals; they’re as simple as a sponge. The difference is that by a quirk of nature the organic matter of their bodies has been compressed much as the inorganic matter of this shield has been compressed. That doesn’t lessen their mass, and it increases their rigidity. It makes them one enormous, terribly sharp cutting edge. Of course, their flanks are vulnerable, to modern weapons. But they won’t let you get at their flanks; they swing around, like lightning, keeping themselves edge on.”
“How do they do that? How do they move at all? They don’t seem to have legs.”
“Frankly, Earthman, I don’t know. As a boy, I assumed it was some inborn faculty of balance. It is, I suppose, but it also makes use of the lines of force in the gravitational field of the Three Suns. Now that is complicated—too much so for my kind of mind. I’m no physicist.”
“I guess they’re quite a doodle. Not quite up to the Melas tree standard, though.”
“Ah—that which becomes many. So you’ve encountered the Melas tree, Earthman?”
“Yes. We’ve met. I’ve yet to make the acquaintance of those who become three. Have you met any Three-people yet?”
It was a leading question, and Sherret tried to make it sound casual. Lee made no answer. He brooded. Presently, he said, “Maybe I should never have met you, Earthman. I could have avoided it. Looking down from here, I saw the smoke of your fire. I wondered what kind of fool would camp in the woods where the Creedos roam. I went down there to save you from your ignorance or your own folly. Maybe I should have left you to them.”
“Why? Merely because I ask awkward questions?”
Lee regarded him thoughtfully. “You’ve come from the south. Meet anyone on the way?”
“One or two crazy birds, a few crazy creatures. I’m on my way to Na-Abiza.”
“You know whom I mean.”
“Yes, Lee, I met Rosala. She, too, saved my life. I make a habit of going around getting my life saved. Only now I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s worth saving. But I was grateful at the time. I lived with her for a spell. Then I left her. I know why you came here. I guess I came for a pretty similar reason. But there’s another reason, too—I wanted to tell you to go back to Rosala. She still loves you, and she needs you desperately.”
“What about you, Earthman? Do you still love her?”
“Damn it, yes. I wish I didn’t.”
“I know what you mean. I still love her, too. But I can’t go back to her yet. Not until after I’ve faced the Three-people. Unfortunately, I’m a coward. I’ve been skulking in this cave for longer than I care to remember, trying to rustle up enough courage to walk through the pass.”
“That’s hard to believe. I may be a coward but you’re not. Hell, you took on both those Creedos together—just to help a complete stranger.”
Lee smiled bitterly. “Maybe I was hoping they’d kill me, Earthman. That would solve my problem. I’ve never felt so low. I haven’t the courage either to face the Three-people or to go back to Rosala and so admit I’m a coward. The Creedos?
They’re nothing much. They’re not cruel nor malicious—just plain and simple bundles of survival reflexes. Like the Melas tree. I was never frightened of them; I’ve known what they are since I was a child. No, it’s the things you know nothing about—except that they’re evil and they certainly exist—that really scare you. This shield couldn’t protect me against the Three-people. I know that, because it couldn’t protect my father.”
“Your father?”
“Yes. This was my father’s shield. He brought it with him to this same pass, maybe to this very cave. And then he brought it back home wi
th him. He had been a brave, strong man. All right, a bit of an exhibitionist, but he had humor and he was kind. He come home to us, dragging this useless shield, broken in spirit, wrecked in mind. I think he had been frightened nearly to death. He did die soon afterwards—of melancholia the quacks said.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lee. But it shows there’s good reason for you to feel scared.”
“Scared, yes, but not downright paralyzed. Which I am. I’ve let myself down, let Rosala down, and—perhaps worst—let my father down. He promised me he’d leave me his shield, you know. I told him I’d be proud to bear it. When he died I resolved to bear it to the place where, in effect, he’d really died. And there face what he had faced, and, if possible, destroy it.”
Sherret mused, pulling gently at his beard.
Then he said, “I don’t quite get this. You said your people can observe this side of Amara and destroy its inhabitants without actually troubling to come here. Then why, for Pete’s sake, haven’t they destroyed the evil Three-people?”
Lee said, bitterly, “It may sound strange to you, Earth-man, but it’s a matter of ethics. The Three-people have never stirred out of this valley. They’ve never harmed anyone who didn’t intrude on them. For my people tolerance is the chief virtue. The Three-people had made it clear that they wanted to keep to themselves. Therefore, my people didn’t approve of men like my father, who liked to go banging at the doors of strangers.”
“How did the Three-people make their position clear?”
Lee shrugged. “Apparently they resent being observed by our instruments. On our screens this valley always appears to be in darkness. Our people assumed that to be a deliberate jamming of reception. But I think it may be only a local electrical phenomenon. Still, it’s clear that visitors are anything but welcome, for the Three-people either kill them or drive them insane.”
“I see. So what you’re seeking to prove is that you’re as brave as your father. As I see it, you’re even braver, for you’re aware of what could happen to you.”
“You’re mistaken, Earthman, My father went with his eyes open—he’d seen what happened to two of his friends. And yet he went all the way. He didn’t lose his confidence, like I have. Oh, he and his friends were different from the rest of my people. They’ve become decadent through too much ease, too much ingrowing philosophizing. They can reason their way out of making even the smallest decisions. They’ve lost all initiative. I know; I’m contaminated by the same spiritual disease. The difference is that I’m aware of it. I tell you, unless more characters like my father are born, the true adventurers, my race will presently die away through sheer inertia.”
Sherret nodded, considering.
“And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought.”
There’s the danger, he thought. Hamlet’s disease. An intelligent person can think just too much. If he dwelt too long on his own decision to face the Three-people, he too, would reason himself into a state of chronic indecision. So, suddenly and rapidly, he said, “The way to Na-Abiza lies through this pass. Right?”
“The shortest way, yes. But there’s a longer way around the mountains which you’ll have to—”
“I want to go the shortest way. Listen, Lee, here’s a proposition—we face the Three-people together. I’d be glad to have you at my side—I could use your support. If we survive, then you’ll return to Rosala, a free man. And I’ll go on to Na-Abiza to regain the kind of freedom I lost.”
Without looking at him, Lee got to his feet and paced the confines of the cave, back and forth. Absently, he kept knotting and feeling the muscles of his arms, as though to reassure himself of his strength.
Then he stopped, looked down at Sherret, and said, “Pride tells me to face this thing alone. Instinct tells me that to do so courts destruction. Wisdom tells me that to have a friend at my side invites success.”
“Let us be friends, then,” said Sherret, extending a hand. Lee took it. “Until the slow burn eats its tail.”
“I’ve heard that expression before. What does it mean?”
Lee laughed, and squatted beside Sherret. He was plainly much relieved, relaxed, even happy since his decision.
He said, “It means, figuratively, until the end of the world. Maybe it could mean it in truth, too—we don’t really know. It’s some kind of fire eating its way around the globe, like a malignant ulcer. It travels hardly faster than a glacier, but it never ceases to progress—in a mathematically straight line. It started somewhere in the barbarian lands and so far it remains there. In fact, I believe it passes through this very mountain range.”
“Can’t you do anything to stop it?”
Lee hunched his shoulders. “My people might attempt to when it reaches their hemisphere. More likely, they’ll continue to talk about it. It may be only a surface phenomenon. On the other hand, it may run very deep and actually be severing the planet—though I doubt that. But some barbarians believe that when at last it completes its circle around the globe, meets itself and begins to ‘eat its tail,’ then Amara will fall apart in two halves. Like a cut fruit. Which reminds me—are you hungry?”
“Not very. But it would be advisable to get some food inside us before we start out. A fully belly increases confidence.”
Lee laughed again. “You’re right. I have a reasonable larder.”
While Lee prepared a meal, Sherret stood at the cave mouth looking down the pass. In the far distance, crouched between the feet of the steep mountain slopes, was a small settlement of some kind. Houses? Huts? He couldn’t discern details; the blue light was deepening and visibility was poor.
For some time he watched. Lee joined him, and said, “In brighter light you can see them walking about. They look human enough, and there seems to be very few of them. And yet I find—inevitably—after I’ve been watching them for a while I begin to shake with dread. Dread of I don’t know what. And then I can’t look any more.”
Sherret felt a cold little shiver pass through him.
“Think I’ve got the shakes coming on myself,” he said, and turned back into the cave. “Let’s eat.”
Over the meal, they talked again, and the feeling of warmth between them grew. It was almost as if they were reunited childhood friends.
In time, Rosala came under discussion.
“She’s a handful that can become more than a handful,” said Lee, with a grin.
“But, by heaven, can she love!”
The puritan in Sherret stirred restlessly as Lee went into intimate reminiscences.
“… after that, I don’t believe we eased up all through the yellow time,” ended Lee with a chuckle.
Sherret laughed awkwardly. “She’s just as voluptuous now, I can assure you. But you might be a bit disappointed when you see her as I’ve left her. Your tastes and mine differ a little. Not all that much, but—well, be prepared.”
“I’ll soon get her back into shape,” smiled Lee. “There, you see, I’ve got my confidence back. Maybe I’ll be able to do something for Rosala’s confidence. You know, she’s not by nature a hell-cat. She only gets that way when she feels her man may leave her. It’s just plain insecurity. It must be murder on the nerves to know your very life depends from day to day on the whims and moods of another person.”
Sherret said slowly, “I’m pretty dumb. Yes, of course that’s the root of it, and I never tumbled to it. She gets as mad and emotionally upset as a little kid whose mother keeps abandoning it. The crises must become more acute with repetition. Hell, why did I have to do that to her—yet again?”
Lee said, “Don’t forget, I did it, too. But I’ll make it up to her—for both of us.”
Sherret felt a stab of pain, the sense of irretrievable loss. He felt he would start yelling if he dwelt too long on thoughts about Rosala. He swung the conversation back to an earlier topic, the ethical beliefs of Lee’s people, and then began an exposition of Goffism and Reparism.
L
ee dismissed Goffism as lunacy and Reparism as stifling. Sherret felt his hackles rise at the mere mention of the word “stifling.”
He objected, “I’ve never thought of Reparism as—” He hedged at the word, and substituted another. “Never thought of it as frustrating. I’ve always pictured it as an open road, leading on and up. And you know where you stand on that road, and everyone recognizes your right to stand there. I don’t say there’s not the odd ease of nepotism but, by and large, promotion depends upon fair and just examinations, merit, length of service, credits awarded for courage and so forth. Not upon chance, right of birth, intrigue, the fantasies of crackpots. Your self-respect, and the respect of others, rests solidly on what you’ve achieved. You know what you can become. So you have a goal in life, a purpose—”
“Horrible!” Lee exclaimed. “Unnatural. Life isn’t like that.”
“No. But it ought to be. Who wants to be natural? Nature is merely doodling around pointlessly. It’s a man’s job to give it an intelligent working plan, a design with significance.”
“Damnation, Earthman, I don’t like your plan! I don’t want it imposed on me. I will not be regimented. You think you’re arguing from reason. You’re not. You’re arguing emotionally. Fundamentally, you’re an insecure personality. Like myself. Like Rosala. You need this system to buttress you because you’re afraid to stand alone. But you don’t need just one companion, you want a whole crowd around you to prop up your self-esteem and cheer you on.”
Sherret jumped to his feet, flushed and angry.
“If that’s what you think of me, I’ll show you. I’m going along that pass right now—alone.”
He turned and made to go, but a steely grip fastened on his biceps and pinned him to the spot.
“We made a pact to go together, Earthman,” said Lee quietly. “Are you going to walk out on me, too?”
Sherret was silent.
“Sometimes I think politics are more dangerous than the Three-people,” Lee went on. “Let us go together now—while we’re still friends.”
The Three Suns of Amara Page 6