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

by Philip José Farmer

  ‘Any place is bad where bad things happen,’ Deyv said. ’And bad things can happen anywhere. Come, woman, let us get to work. We must get Keem to a world where perhaps there are not so many bad things.’

  He did not believe that. But at least that other world might not be falling apart.

  44

  ‘The next time we unfold the vessel,’ Sloosh said, ‘we should perhaps leave it that way. It expanded even more slowly than the last time. There may be enough power left for a dozen more times, I don’t know. But I don’t want to take the chance.’

  A round plate on the control room panel had been glowing red for some time. Sloosh said that this must be a warning that the fuel was about to give out. Not that he needed that indication.

  They packed up, and all moved out. Coming near the hill, they heard a mighty hubbub, the chatter of the tribes gathered for the Trading Season, the music provided by their hosts, the bleats and squawks and chirpings of goats and birds brought in for the event. An odour of cooking drifted down the slope towards them. Deyv felt nostalgia for the Seasons when he had attended such occasions. Tears ran down his cheeks as he thought of his people. He would never see them again.

  Vana, too, was weeping.

  From behind the trees they saw that the pod-plants had been reaped. Where they had grown were the lean-tos of the visitors, with women preparing food, children running around playing and men sitting gossiping or bargaining.

  ‘It seems a shame to disturb such a harmonious scene,’ Sloosh said. ‘Imagine that! Six different groups of humans in one place, and they’re not fighting!’

  ‘The stockade logs were disarranged by the last quake,’ The Shemibob said. ‘They’re still setting up some of them.’

  As if this remark had caused another tremor, and Deyv was not sure that it had not, the ground began to shake. Those on the hill fell silent; the beat of drums and the shrilling of noseflutes stopped. The animals and birds ceased their racket, causing Deyv to wonder why they had not been hushed before this. Animals were supposed to be very sensitive to the quakes, detecting them long before they became evident to humans. But then Jum and Aejip, who had long behaved strangely when a tremor was coming, had lately been as surprised as their master. He had not thought anything of that until just now. Maybe they were getting used to the shakers.

  This one was a minor quivering of the earth for a few seconds. After a few minutes, the crowd resumed their noisy activity, and the animals and birds took up their own uproar.

  ‘Here comes the second shock,’ Sloosh said, referring to the anticipated reception their appearance would receive.

  Dragging a net full of red-ear heads, Sloosh stepped out from behind a tree and waded through the water. The Shemibob came next, also hauling a net and with Deyv on her back. He had decided at the last moment that he would ride her. He was to act as intermediary and, despite his reluctance to mount a higher being, he could gain more authority if he appeared to be controlling the snake-centaur.

  Vana came last, carrying the baby in one arm, a spear in the other hand prodding the captive ahead of her.

  They were sighted almost immediately. Shrieks and yells went up, and there was a frenzied scramble to get back up the hill. By the time the strangers had reached the foot of the hill, it was deserted. The gate swung shut on the last of the stampeding refugees. Faces appeared over the stockade, and the observation tower swarmed with frightened men.

  The intruders reached the plateau on which the village stood. Sloosh opened his net and hauled out the heads. A concerted cry of wonder rose from the onlookers. The plant-man began to hurl the heads over the gate.

  Waving his spear, Deyv shouted, ‘Here are the gifts we bring you! You will be attacked by the red-ears no more! Your plants and your warriors are safe from them! We have slain them for you to show our friendship!’

  Having finished dispensing his load, Sloosh emptied The Shemibob’s net onto the ground.

  ‘Come out and get these!’ Deyv shouted. ‘Each tribe can have its own trophies! You may put them up on poles to remind you how the mighty Deyv and his friends, The Shemibob and the Archkerri – and his mighty wife,’ he added, knowing that Vana would be displeased if she were left out, ‘slew the monstrous red-ears easily. Just as easily as they could slay six tribes in a very short time.’

  ‘Don’t overdo it,’ The Shemibob said softly.

  ‘But we come as friends, not to kill! We come to lead you to a place where earthquakes will not tear your land apart and destroy you! We have come to save you!’

  Vana urged the captive forward.

  ‘Here is the woman Be’nyar!’ Deyv said. ‘We took her from you so that we could learn your language and your customs! In fact, all your secrets! As you can see, she is unharmed! Come out and get her!’

  The shaman of the Chaufi’ng, Diknirdik, was standing on a platform inside the wall near the gate. With him were the shamans of the other tribes. He was a tall broad-shouldered fellow of middle age, wearing a double-coned hat fringed with feathers. Small red feathers were glued to his upper lip; the rest of his face was painted with thin vertical stripes of white, black and green. He lacked four upper teeth.

  He turned and said something to his colleagues. They talked fiercely for a moment before he gave his attention to the invaders again.

  ‘Go away!’ he bellowed. ‘We appreciate your gift of the red-ear heads! We thank you for them, and we will honour you by sacrifices to our ancestors! We will tell them that you are our friends, and thus they will not harm you!

  ‘But we have no need of your further presence! We are afraid that the demons with you will scare the children!’

  Deyv laughed and said, ‘Not to mention scaring your brave warriors!’

  The Shemibob said, ‘Don’t insult them without a good purpose! They need to be soothed, not angered. But you must still keep them in awe of us.’

  ‘I know that,’ Deyv muttered. ‘I have some intelligence.’

  ‘Then use it!’

  ‘Very well,’ he bellowed. ‘We will go back, down to the bottom of the hill. There we’ll set up camp until you decide to come out and be friendly. Believe me, so far you haven’t acted as friends! Watch us! When we get there we’ll demonstrate a little of our magic!’

  When Sloosh pulled the rod of the cube and it unfolded, a loud cry of amazement and fear came from the village. The plant-man said, ‘I hope we don’t have to collapse it again. I wouldn’t guarantee that it’d do it completely.’

  ‘It’s a pity I don’t have my bag,’ The Shemibob said. ‘However, if I can’t handle them with my wits alone, I deserve to be killed.’

  ‘They are ignorant and superstitious,’ Sloosh said. ‘But they have the same intelligence as their civilized ancestors. Don’t underrate them.’

  ‘My apologies. I’ve been so used to dominating the lesser beings that I forget they’re really not so inferior if I have not got my devices.’

  ‘They certainly outnumber us,’ Deyv said.

  ‘But we’ve got them baffled,’ Vana said. She looked up the hill. Be’nyar was still standing outside the closed gate, and she was crying to be let in. The shamans were in another huddle.

  ‘So far,’ Sloosh said, ‘we have them baffled. Well, let’s partake of the delicious-smelling food which they so kindly left for us.’

  They ate and then relieved themselves in the swamp water nearby. This was used by the tribe for this purpose, which did not prevent their taking their drinking and cooking water from the same place. Vana and Deyv went farther out to fill their fired-clay vessels for their own drinking. Long ago, Sloosh had explained the connection between disease and lack of sanitation.

  Vana nursed the baby. The others walked around for a while, talking, and then all went into the vessel to sleep. Before retiring, though, they watched the village for a while. Be’nyar was still at the gate, but she had stopped beseeching entrance. Now she was huddled on her knees, her head bowed.

  They had decided agains
t setting a watch. If they pretended to be indifferent to the tribes’ actions, they would impress them. Such nonchalance would make them think that the strangers were so powerful that they did not care at all what measures the villagers took.

  After they were inside the vessel and the door was closed, Sloosh said, ‘We may be taking the wrong approach. All we know of the temper of these people is what Be’nyar has told us. She may have been lying. Or she may have given us insufficient information because we failed to ask the right questions.’

  ‘What difference would it make?’ The Shemibob said. ’They can do nothing while we’re locked in the vessel. Setting up a guard won’t alter the situation. I’m going to sleep while they stew about this.’

  She retired to another room. Sleeping with them would make them her peers, according to her way of thinking. Deyv did not understand why. He had questioned her about it, though with some trepidation, and she had said that the fact he did not understand it made clear the difference between them.

  Sloosh also bedded down in another chamber. He did not mind sharing the same quarters, but they did. Though it was impossible for him to snore, he ‘talked’ in his sleep, and the resultant buzzing often woke them up.

  Deyv dreamed that: his grandmother came to him.

  ‘This is the last time we’ll meet, beloved grandson. Spirits can’t cross from one world to another.’

  Behind her, vague in the shadow of a dark woods, were two figures, Jum and Aejip.

  ‘Don’t leave me!’ Deyv cried out.

  ‘I must. Farewell, baby. You go to become a man. You don’t need me any more.’

  She backed into the dark greyness and disappeared. For a time, the eyes of the beasts glowed brightly, though there was little light to be reflected. Then, like dying candles, they guttered out and he awoke sobbing.

  Once more he dreamed. A great gong, like that hidden in the House of the Flying Figures, was beating somewhere over the horizon. He woke up sweating and trembling, and it was a long time before he could sink back into sleep.

  In the third dream he was squatting before a hut and fingering his soul egg. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up. The man in the red suit on the chair in the House of Flying Figures was standing by him. His broad fat face was jolly with a smile, but the eyes were a fierce hard blue. He held in one hand a metal hammer and a bunch of metal nails. His other hand was behind his back.

  ‘Here. Take these. Go and build a square house. And do not squander your time.’

  They all awoke about the same time. Deyv opened the door cautiously. He looked around it. No one was waiting to spear him. To make sure, he crept around to the other side. No lurkers there. The woman Be’nyar had been let into the stockade. A few men were watching from the walls. Returning to the door, he called in that it was safe to come out. They breakfasted on fruits and nuts, since the meat left by the campers had turned rotten and was covered by flies, ants and beetles.

  Sloosh said, ‘If nothing else, hunger will drive them out from the village. Besides, they must be very crowded in there.’

  ‘We don’t want them to get so desperate that they attack us,’ The Shemibob said.

  Vana picked up the baby and they walked up to the gate. Deyv cried out, ‘Tell your shamans to come out to talk to us!’

  One of the watchmen disappeared. After a long wait, during which Deyv could hear a high-pitched squabble, which meant that the shamans were not conversing in the sign language, the sentinel came back.

  ‘Diknirdik will come out if you will promise by your ancestors not to harm him.’

  ‘We’re not here to do evil!’ Deyv shouted. ‘We have come to save you from it!’

  Sloosh said, ‘Telling them that might make them even more suspicious. Beware the man who promises salvation.’

  Presently, Diknirdik’s head and shoulders rose above the wall. He spoke loudly enough, but his voice trembled.

  ‘Greetings, strangers! Why do you wish to speak to me?’

  ‘Come out, and we’ll tell you why!’

  The shaman’s eyes rolled; his hands gripped the pointed ends of the logs tightly. He was in a bad situation. If he left the village, he might be torn apart by the monsters or borne off to some unimaginable but doubtless horrible fate. If he did not come out, he would be showing cowardice and would lose face.

  Deyv said, ‘We released Be’nyar to show our good faith.’

  ‘She is of no importance,’ Diknirdik said.

  ‘Very well then,’ Deyv said. ‘I’ll come in alone and talk to you. This shouting is wearing my throat out. And my neck hurts from looking up.’

  Vana said, ‘You shouldn’t! Once they have you in their power -’

  ‘That’s all right,’ The Shemibob said. ‘If he dares that, then they’ll think he’s not the least bit worried about them.’

  The shaman said, ‘No, you stay out there. The gate will be opened a little, and we can talk to each other from each side of it.’

  There was, however, a long delay. Finally, they heard the sound of a massive wooden bar being pulled. Slowly, the gate swung open. When there was a gap of two feet, the shaman appeared in it. Deyv could see the shamans from the other tribes behind him and many men with spears and blowguns. Beyond them was the head of the statue of Tsi’kzheep, and ranged in line on both sides of it were the wooden heads of the great founders of the other tribes. Be’nyar had said that these were brought along to the host village during the Trading Season.

  A stench of unwashed bodies and unburied excrement floated through the gap. The Shemibob was right. Conditions were so bad in the overcrowded place that sheer desperation would soon drive them out.

  The Shemibob came up behind Deyv. Diknirdik backed quickly, saying, ‘Tell her to get away!’

  The snake-centaur laughed, causing the shaman to jump. She retired while Deyv asked, ‘Is it all right for the woman and the baby to stand with me? They can’t hurt you!’

  Stung by the sarcasm, the shaman bit his lip, but he said, ‘Yes. Why do you need her, though?’

  ‘She speaks your language better than I do. She can tell me the right word if I forget it.’

  When Vana stood by Deyv, the shaman looked thoughtful. Was he planning to grab all three of them? Deyv doubted it, but if he had been in the shaman’s place, he might have tried it. No, he would not. He would have been as scared as he.

  Deyv said, ‘Listen,’ and he came out with his prepared speech. He told them about the inevitable destruction of their planet and explained how the gateway might be a means of escape. During this there were many gasps and cries of wonder and sometimes of dubiety from those behind the gate. He still had to shout to make himself understood above the voices of the interpreters, mostly the shamans, who were translating to the non-Chaufi’ng.

  When he’d finished, he drank from the gourd handed him by Vana. Then he said, ‘You must have many questions. I’ll answer those which are relevant. I am tired of standing, however. Bring stools for me and my woman.’

  This was done speedily. The stools were handed through by a warrior, Diknirdik being above such menial work. Deyv decided that it would be carrying arrogance too far if he did not say thanks. Besides, that might make his listeners more at ease.

  ‘That is a very interesting tale,’ the shaman said, ‘though I understand little of it. I won’t say that you are lying, since I don’t want to offend you. But this thing about The Shimmering Demon is hard to believe. We know that it is not an entrance to another world, unless you call the stomach of the demon another world, and it may well be. It is not, however, a world where we would care to be.

  ‘Could it be that you’ve been sent by the demon to lure us into its mouth?’

  ‘Would we go into the shimmering if it was the mouth of a demon?’

  ‘You would if you were its friends and it used you to acquire people to eat.’

  Sloosh buzzed, ‘The shaman is very logical within his own framework of thought.’

  Deyv
said, ‘We’ve come here because we want to save at least some human beings. We don’t want mankind to die out. That is our only reason. My woman and I would like to join your tribe, be of your people, since our own tribes are gone.’

  Diknirdik swallowed and said, ‘There is another reason why we can’t go with you. The hill where the demon lives is forbidden ground.’

  ‘Then break the taboo!’ Deyv said. ‘It was based on the wrong assumption, on your ignorance. There is no demon there!’

  The shaman looked round as if he were drawing courage from those near him.

  ‘Oh, we couldn’t do that. It would anger our ancestors. They would haunt us for ever; they would do bad things to us in this life and the next. Be’nyar disobeyed their will, so we had to punish her. She was killed while you were in your – uh, thing. And her body was eaten by the dogs.’

  45

  Deyv awoke once and went outside for a look around. The contrast between the silence in the vessel and the din outside was startling. The villagers were certainly not sleeping. Drums beat, flutes shrilled and chanting in six tongues soared upward and fell down the hill. Smoke from a large fire rose from the centre of the stockade. The gate was closed; the only observer was a man on top of the bamboo tower. He must have seen Deyv step out of the vessel. He would, however, have difficulty making himself heard above the uproar.

  ‘I hope your ancestors tell you the right thing to do,’ Deyv muttered. He went inside, closing the door after him, and he lay down. After some tossing and turning, he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

  Sometime afterwards, he felt the floor lift and fall. He was safe, however, unless the earth opened wide enough to swallow the craft. He closed his eyes but quickly opened them. There had been only one movement. What kind of a tremor was that?

  By then The Shemibob was out of her room.

  ‘Did you feel it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He got up and swung the door out a few inches. A yell from many throats greeted him. A spear shot over his shoulder and thudded against the wall behind him. He caught a look at a dozen fierce faces near him and beyond them a horde digging a deep wide hole in the side of the hill. He shut the door and turned wide-eyed towards The Shemibob.