The Lovers * Dark Is the Sun * Riders of the Purple Wage

by Philip José Farmer

The fifth: H.

  On they came, but Deyv went under the trees and could not see the forms, the ceiling of the jungle was so thick.

  The shaman had said that these were the words of The Great Mother, and the person who could understand them would become as one of her divine children and would have great power.

  However, a woman from the Avadeym Tribe who had married a Turtle had a different explanation. She had said that they were boats sent out by The Mother. When the time came that the sky grew too hot and bright for life to endure here, the boats would come down so that the people could board them. Then they would carry their passengers to a far-off place where it would never be too hot and where no dangerous beasts existed and people would live for ever and always be happy.

  Deyv believed the shaman. What would an Avadeym know about such matters? And why should the Avadeym be allowed to live in such a place? What had they done to deserve it? Weren’t they enemies of the Turtles? The Turtles would go there, if there were such a place. But the Avadeym? Never!

  Deyv and Jum came to a small river. Jum drank thirstily; but Deyv swallowed one mouthful. At this point the bank sloped down to a thin sandy beach. On the sand there had been some tall white big-beaked birds and a huge long-tailed pale-blue riverbeast with long jaws and big teeth. When Jum came out of the foliage ahead of his master, the birds had trumpeted and then flown off. The riverbeast, which looked big enough to handle a dozen men, had croaked and then slid off into the water.

  Deyv knew that the athaksum was not scared of them. It was in the river now, the eyes on top of its head looking at them, hoping they would try to cross the stream.

  It would eat humans, but it craved dog. Jum knew this, which was why he was whimpering.

  The waters were fairly clear, since it had not rained for about thirty sleeps. A swirl showed where the athaksum had dived. It would be somewhere near the bottom now, waiting for them to enter its domain, its eyes sharp and its flesh-buried ears receptive to any disturbance in the water. Then it would slide incredibly fast through the liquid, its tail waving from side to side, its webbed paws digging into the water, its jaws closed but ready to open just before it sank its many sharp teeth into flesh.

  Jum was looking at Deyv, and he was still whimpering.

  Deyv patted him on the head. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get by it.’

  Jum stopped making sounds of distress, but he looked as worried as his lack of facial muscles would allow.

  There was a lot of driftwood on the beach and the bank, detritus of floods. Deyv dragged two trunks down to the river’s edge and then cut lianas from the trees with his sword. It took him some time to bind the logs together. Meanwhile, the tall birds returned to the beach but stayed about ninety feet from him. Once, the knobs holding the eyes of the riverbeast appeared, looked coldly at its intended victims and then sank again. Some time later, Deyv glimpsed the athaksum a few feet below the surface. But it was quickly gone from sight.

  When he was ready, Deyv told Jum to get on the forepart of the logs. The dog walked out cautiously and sat down. Deyv pushed the two-log raft, if it could be called such, out from the sand into the water. He’d intended to launch it, and then to jump onto its aft end and sit down. Immediately thereafter, he would draw the blowgun from its case and fit a dart into it.

  But just before he slopped through the shallow water and seated himself on the logs, he felt a faint trembling of the sand under his feet, followed by a violent upthrust of sand. Something cracked like a whip. By this time he was in the river. The sand was replaced by mud, which lifted and sank, lifted and sank. The river suddenly rose, churned, and swept in a small wave towards him.

  He thought, Earthquake!

  It was too late to return to shore. Besides, if he were anxious and uncertain, the athaksum would be too. On the beach opposite, about nine hundred feet away, the trees dipped and waved, and the sand swelled as if it were the skin of a heavily breathing animal.

  Deyv gave a yell which was half-fright and half-bravado. He shoved the logs out, hopped up on them, and then straddled them. Jum was too scared to whimper; he was standing up, poised, his hairs bristling. The raft slid outward, rose as a wave lifted it, then dipped.

  ‘Hang on!’ Deyv shouted. Later, he was to think that this had been nonsense advice, since the dog had no hands. But he had to say something; that was the essence of a human being. Say something even if it means nothing, because as long as one is talking one is alive.

  Though he was shocked, he still had enough sense to pull the blowgun out of its case. A moment later, he had the dart in the barrel.

  The riverbeast always rose to the surface just before it plunged again to seize its prey from under the water. Or so Deyv had been told by the hunters of his tribe.

  He planned to point the gun in the direction from which the beast would come. Just as it raised its eyes clear of the surface, he would blow the dart into the nearest eye. Then the mighty creature would be blinded in it; and the venom of the snorting snake, the quickest-acting and most painful his tribe knew, would race through the blood and send the beast into spasms and death.

  Now only The Mother knew what would happen. The earth was quivering like jelly. The water was lifting in waves higher than his head, all going in his direction. At the same time he had to watch for the brief emergence of the athaksum’s eyes, dip his left hand into the water to drive the raft towards the other shore, while his feet were moving to help propel the logs, and hold the blowgun in his right hand, ready to use it on the beast.

  Jum was barking crazily, which meant that the sound would course through the waters and reach the ears of the hungry athaksum. With the sound as a target, the beast would drive towards them, and then the wide jaws…

  Halfway across, while Deyv was paddling desperately and at the same time trying to watch where the beast might pop up, a wave reared before him. The quake must have intensified at that second to create such a wave. The crest rose above his head by the height of two men, the largest so far, and fell on the front of the logs. He cried out as he saw Jum swept off. Then the irresistible heaviness of water struck him, and he too was torn off the raft.

  Still Deyv had enough self-control to hold the blowgun above his head while he moved his feet and his left hand. He was numb but not so much that he was helpless. There was no thought that he might drown. The only thing that concerned him was the riverbeast.

  As he was turned about despite his struggles, he saw the two half-arcs appear. They were not, as he had expected, on his right. They rose boiling from his left. Either the beast had adopted a course which Deyv’s elders said it never took, or the turmoil had swept the thing beyond its intended path. Whatever had happened, there it was, and he wasn’t able to cope with the change of events. His blowgun was in his right hand, the thing was on the left. No matter how swiftly he turned, it would have dived before he could do anything about it. And then, below the heavy element, where his dart could not penetrate, it would have come up and gripped his leg with teeth not to be denied.

  For a second or two Deyv looked into the pale blue eyes of death. The eyes began to sink. Deyv tried to twist himself around in the water as it broke over him. It was too late. He knew that. Once those long sharp teeth sank into his leg, he could struggle and struggle, but it would make no difference. His strength would be no match for its.

  His sword was in his hand without his thinking about it, and he leaned over. The monster’s near eye was only a few inches below the surface when the point drove into it.

  The water boiled; the blood spread out. A thick tail came up into the air and crashed down against the water.

  Deyv almost dropped his sword while trying to pull himself back onto the raft. His fingers slipped on the wet wood, caught a knob, clung, and soon he was sitting upright again. Immediately, he pulled his legs up and put his feet flat on the logs.

  The leaves of the trees on the opposite bank were still fluttering, but the trunks had stopped swaying. The quake was – f
or the moment, at least – over. The waves were beginning to subside.

  Deyv rose to his feet. Crouching, he put one hand on the top of the raft to steady himself while he looked around him. Jum was also crouched, and if his coat hadn’t been so heavy with water, the hairs would have been bristling. He was facing Deyv’s right now. Hoping that the dog had detected the athaksum, Deyv looked at where he was pointing. There it was. A large shadow at first, then a clearly visible body, then a huge head. Its good eye was turned towards Deyv, then the body was turned towards him, and it was coming as swiftly as if it were sliding down a mudbank.

  Deyv stood, balancing as the raft rocked in the swells. Just as the thing shot out of the water, its mouth open to seize him and carry him on out onto the other side of the logs, Deyv leaped to one side. At the same time, he brought his sword down across the neck. But as the creature soared over the raft, its tail whipped around and knocked Deyv off.

  He came up out of the river sputtering water. His arm felt as if it had been struck with a heavy club. He couldn’t move it. Too numb even to know whether or not he still gripped the sword, thinking that by now it must be on the bottom, he trod water. Barking, Jum crouched near Deyv as if he intended to spring off the logs after him.

  Deyv’s foot touched mud. He kicked backward, and both feet were on the river’s bottom. He whirled as swiftly as he could in the cloying element and pushed towards the shore. The water receded, was up to his waist. He drove forward, fearful that at any second those big sharp teeth would close on a leg and drag him back.

  Now the water was up to his ankles, and he was on the sand. Stumbling, panting, he ran towards the jungle. A bellow sounded from behind him, but he did not look back.

  His feet kicked up sand and then were on soft earth. Another bellow, so close that he thought a hot breath was on his legs.

  He dived between two frondy bushes, rolled, and was up on his feet and making for a tree with low branches. A bush cracked behind him as a huge body crushed it. Deyv leaped to grab a branch, but his foot slipped, and he fell heavily on his back. It seemed to be just about all over then. Still, he tried to get up, but he made the mistake of using his right arm. It gave way under him and he fell again.

  Then he heard a low growling, a thrashing, and he saw that Jum had come ashore after him. The dog was leaping towards and away from the athaksum, snapping at its good eye. The riverbeast was being distracted, but its counter-lunges would bring those teeth down on Jum’s head at any second. Blood, however, was still flowing from the pierced eye, coating blue fur with red, soaking the dirt and making a pale-red mud.

  It was no use for Deyv to try to climb into the tree. He could grab a limb with his left hand, but the useless right would keep him from pulling himself up onto it. He could run on into the woods and leave Jum to be sacrificed. Or perhaps Jum, knowing his master was safe, would also run.

  No, Jum was too busy even to see him. He’d keep tormenting the athaksum until it got him.

  Deyv reached around his front with the left arm and plucked the stone tomahawk from the belt. Yelling, he ran up to the beast and brought the heavy stone head down between its eyes. The creature turned, reared up, and swallowed the tomahawk just as Deyv awkwardly brought it down again in his left hand. He was lucky he didn’t also lose his hand. Hard lips brushed his fist.

  Then he and the dog leaped away to escape the monster’s agony. With the tip of the weapon sticking out just beyond its lips, the riverbeast rolled and thrashed, crushing and splintering some bushes. Its good eye bulged; the blood from the wounded eye ran even faster; a deep gargling sound issued from its throat; its legs waved frantically. Finally, lying on its back, its spine curved, the top of its head digging into the ground, the monster died.

  Deyv heard a screech behind him and whirled to face another danger, though he didn’t feel up to dealing adequately with it. There was a large cat, tawny, with black rosettes, golden eyes and wet fangs, crouching to spring.

  ‘Now you show up!’ Deyv, between pants, said.

  For a long time, Deyv and Jum searched in the mud for the sword. Deyv dived many times groping for it, but the dog, after only three attempts, surfaced and barked to indicate its location. By then Deyv’s arm was beginning to regain some mobility. Aejip had taken no part in the search. Though she could swim easily enough, she didn’t like the water. Besides, she was hungry and totally occupied in tearing meat from the carcass’s flank.

  Using the sword, Deyv hacked off some portions and threw them to the dog. Then he dragged the tomahawk from the monster’s throat and cut out the tongue. Some time later, he got a fire going with the bowdrill stored in a pocket of the gun case. The cooked tongue was delicious.

  Meanwhile, birds, a troop of small meat-eating monkeylike creatures, and several hog-like beasts sat around at a respectful distance. When Deyv and his pets moved on, they heard the squawks, whistles, grunts and squeals of the scavengers as they closed in on the feast.

  3

  By the time the three had crossed to the other bank, the clouds almost covered half of the skies. A wind preceding them was shaking the upper parts of the trees and rippling the water. The last of the shapes floated over Deyv and then was swallowed up in the black mists overhead. A few minutes later, rain fell upon the forest, battered at the upper levels, crashed through the heavy foliage and spilled thickly to the ground.

  Deyv, Jum and Aejip, shivering, took shelter under a gigantic toadstool, but the water flowed over their feet and paws. Aejip looked as if she were cursing. Jum looked miserable. Deyv huddled between the two, trying to get some warmth from their bodies. Thunder and lightning were by then ripping the air apart. From a distance came a crashing as a jungle patriarch fell, tearing off many of the liana that grew around it but restrained by the rest from striking the ground.

  ‘Aren’t you sorry you changed your mind and decided to follow us?’ Deyv said to Aejip.

  The cat snarled.

  After the lightning ceased, Deyv somehow managed to sleep. He awoke with the skies still dark but rainless. Stiff and cold, he set off down the path with Jum and Aejip ahead of him.

  Some time later the cat went hunting. She returned with a large rodent with almost square ears. They sought out a shwikl tree and chased its bat-like inhabitants from the cavity halfway up the trunk. There was just enough room for all three to cuddle inside. Nice and warm. First, though, Deyv found some leaves and dead wood that weren’t too wet for a fire and cooked his part of the rodent. Then he climbed up beside the hole and drew the dog up with the rope. They slept well, though they were occasionally awakened by especially vicious bites from the parasites the previous owners had left behind.

  Their journey was delayed in the morning. Deyv went hunting with the blowgun and brought down an ushuthikl, an animal which looked much like an ape but whose ancestors had probably been wolves. The three companions ate well before proceeding. Deyv carried the uneaten portion for a time in its own skin. However, it attracted so many stinging flies that eventually the three stuffed themselves and then left the rest for the insects.

  Two more sleep-times passed without special incident. The clouds had dissipated; the air had become much warmer. But a blackness was building up again.

  Shortly before the trio reached their immediate goal, Jum stopped and growled. Deyv hurried into the bushes and called the animals to him. Presently three young men of the Red Skunk Tribe trotted up. They wore their glossy black hair in coils atop faces painted scarlet; big wooden rings hung from their ears; and wooden plugs rufted with feathers at each end stuck out from their septums. Their legs were painted with vertical bands of green, red and black. The men carried blowgun cases on their backs, long spears tipped with chert in their hands and stone tomahawks in their belts. Obviously they formed a war party.

  Deyv was tempted. He could shoot the rearmost with a dart after they’d passed. Then he’d loose his animals on them, and before they could recover from their surprise, he’d shoot at least one more.
However, it would be a great bother to carry their heads and soul eggs along. Far too much so. Still, it would be possible to cache heads and eggs in a tree hollow and pick them up on the way back.

  But what if these were only the scouts of a larger party? Then he’d be in a bad situation. Best to play it safe. Nevertheless, he sighed as he watched them disappear around the bend. He’d never killed a man, never had a trophy.

  After waiting a long time to make sure the three were not a vanguard, Deyv returned to the trail. Jum again preceded him. Aejip followed the dog at a distance of seventy feet in case the three men had somehow seen Deyv and were sneaking back. The cat’s nose wasn’t nearly as sensitive as the dog’s, but her hearing was almost as good.

  On the way, Deyv spotted a meatfruit tree off the trail and collected what little the birds and beasts had missed. All three ate the conical protein-rich but evil-smelling fruit. By the time they’d finished, they came to an ujushmikl. A highway of the ancients.

  Fifty-two feet wide at this point, it was made of a somewhat resilient orange substance and was marked with three white lines which formed four lanes. Deyv had no idea why the ancients had made the road or what the markings meant. Nor did he know which ancients had laid it here. According to his grandmother’s stories, there had once been a series of ancient peoples, some unimaginably old. The ones responsible for this road may even have been those who’d made the Houses. And had also made the swords, rustless and self-sharpening, and the other wonderful artifacts which the earth now and then yielded.

  The ancients had had great powers, though not enough to keep them from dying out. This highway, for instance, had existed long before Deyv’s great-great-great-great-grand-father was born, and probably many generations before that. But it was not overgrown with plants, nor had trees been able to tear it apart. The green life, except for a short grass, encroached but withered within sixty feet of the road. Floods sometimes washed out the earth beneath it here and there. By some magical means, earth sifted back under it and packed down. Earthquakes twisted it, but as time went on, it straightened out.