DARK IS THE SUN

by Philip José Farmer

  Sometime during the near-catastrophe, the shimmering pivoted a half-circle. Sloosh was the first to see this. He came huffing and puffing into the camp from the other side of the island.

  "If you stand behind the shimmering, you can't see it," he buzzed. "You have to go around to the other side for it to be visible."

  "So what does that mean?" Vana asked.

  "What it means is that we may have passed other shimmerings and not seen them because we were on the wrong side. And the same thing may happen in the future. It is most disconcerting. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about it."

  Deyv and Vana listened politely and then resumed making a second dugout. They had no intention of going through a gateway unless someone forced them, and then they'd have to be thrown through. Also, they had decided that this time the boats would not be a community venture. They would make their own, and if the others didn't want to, so much the worse for them.

  When Deyv and Vana weren't working on the boat, hunting, eating, or sleeping, they stood on a promontory and watched the sail-beasts. From their observations they were convinced that they could sail against the wind, too.

  Once, Sloosh came up to stand beside them while they watched.

  "Those white slugs you see on their decks are the young of those beasts," he said. "The larvae, in fact.

  After a certain amount of time, the larvae change form and go into the sea. They metamorphose into small duplicates of the mother. After a while, they become adults. The male beasts fight for the females, and the winner then has to chase down the females to prove how good a sailor he is. From their union the eggs are fertilized, and these hatch out the slugs. And so on."

  "How do they manage to mate?" Vana asked.

  "I don't know. I do have three different speculations, though."

  In his circuitous way, Sloosh was leading up to a lecture on the tharakorm. These, he said, were sailshipbeasts of the air. Well, not really animals, since they were composed of viri, and they didn't mate. But they were, in a way, higher on the evolutionary ladder than their oceanic animal analogs.

  "What has been happening in the last stages of Earth's existence is that Nature, or the Creator, or call it what you will, has burst out with many previously unknown life-forms. It has done this, I'm convinced, so that some life will be saved from the final catastrophe. Animals that had never given rise to any form of sapiency are now doing so. Take the Yawtl, for instance. He comes from a species that once was confined to quadrupedal locomotion. A very successful form in its place, but still it seemed impossible that it would ever evolve into a biped with fingers and a thumb and a brain the size of man's. Yet, here it is. Too late, unfortunately, because the Yawtl, though it is self-conscious and intelligent, doesn't have time to evolve a brain which can figure out a way to save itself from the holocaust.

  "But for that matter, man, who's been on Earth far far longer than the Yawtl, doesn't seem to have the intelligence to save himself either. Though I may be wrong.

  "Then there is the Tsimmanbul. It developed from a highly intelligent sea-mammal. In fact, it had a sapiency the equal of man's when man first evolved from the ape. But it couldn't use it, at least not as man did, because of its environment and its form, which kept it from the land. Until recently, anyway.

  "And look at the Archkerri. We evolved from a plant form, though we have a tradition that the ancient humans helped us do this, just as they helped the Tsimmanbul. In any event, we are the vegetable kingdom's leap into sentiency, its final desperate effort to make a form which will survive the coming doom.

  "There are other sapient forms of the animal kingdom, which we may or may not encounter during this quest. There is only one sapient form of the plant kingdom. And so far as I know, the mineral kingdom hasn't produced a champion. But then I don't know everything, no matter how I may appear to do so.

  "And then there is the tharakorm, the end product of the half-alive, half-dead kingdom. It is without selfconsciousness or a brain, as we know brains. Nevertheless, it may survive where all the other kingdoms perish. I should modify that. The mineral kingdom will not perish, but it will lose its present forms, all melted into one cosmic ball of fire at the end.

  "However, the tharakorm, which is now confined to sailing the air, may become a sailor of space itself.

  It is evolving toward that state now. For all I know, there may be some tharakorm which have already succeeded in leaving this atmosphere. They could be voyaging through space, outward bound, their sails spread to catch the light of the dying universe and be pushed by it toward that space where there is no matter whatsoever. That is, of course, if there can be such a thing as space without matter.

  "But when the big bang comes, and a new universe is born, the tremendous expulsion of light will also push the tharakorm away from the ejected matter. No pieces will catch up with the sailship-things of outer space. Eventually, when there are abysses of space between the various pieces of matter, and stars are forming, the tharakorm will sail toward them. They will fall into worlds where air has formed, and they will be dissolved, and once again viri will live in unassociated forms on these worlds.

  "There will be countless tharakorm or their equivalents falling upon countless planets. That is because, I surmise, tharakorm will have formed on every inhabited planet now falling toward its fiery doom. And those which come back from the far reaches of truly empty space to habitable planets will, as I've said, revert to the unassociated forms. And these will evolve into forms that are fully alive, the too-tiny-to-beseen single-celled plants and animals that are the basis of fully alive forms, plants and animals. At one time, the ancients believed that life was formed in the warm soup seas of young planets. But that is not true. Full life evolved from half-life, the countless things that made up the tharakorm or similar forms.

  "It's possible that this process has been going on since the first cosmic egg of flaming matter hatched.

  Universes are born and expand, contract and become fires, explode and expand, contract and become fires, and so on. But life in its many forms continues, passed on from one world to the next in a halfalive, half-dead state.

  "Meanwhile, the increasing density of matter in every contracting universe forms strange, temporary, but not unpassable gateways to other universes. And it is these that enable those forms of life which cannot survive as the tharakorm do to get to young universes. Perhaps."

  Deyv and Vana were awed at these visions, though they didn't really believe they were true.

  Deyv said, "This is all very well, but how does it concern me? I won't live nearly as long as a tharakorm, and these gateways terrify me. They are not guaranteed entrances to places where the Earth won't die—

  for an unimaginably long time yet. Anyway, what is life to me without my own soul egg and my tribe, the people I know and love?

  "No, I'm not going one step further on this crazy quest of yours. I'm going home to live out my life, as all men should do, and I'll die when my time comes, as all men should do."

  "After all that you've seen?" Sloosh said, and he walked away.

  "You are right, of course," Vana said. "However, what if you do get back to your native land? Only to be captured by a woman of another tribe and then have to live the rest of your life with a strange tribe? That happens now and then to your people, doesn't it?"

  "Yes, but the nine tribes in my area are not complete strangers," he said. "I've met them during the

  Trading Season. Besides, the tribe of my wife, when I get one, will then become my own. And I will see my relatives during the Season. It's not that bad. What is bad is to be without a tribe at all."

  When Deyv and Vana had finished the dugout, they took it out at once for a trial sail. Though they upset the boat a .number of times, they finally became fairly skillful sailors. Meantime, the others had completed their larger craft, and they too experimented on the waters close to shore. Whenever the sailbeasts approached them, they quickly retreated to the shallows. This m
aneuver always worked except when one of the immature beasts chased them. Then they had to beach their boats and wait until the young predator gave up on them.

  After one such incident, Vana said, "I really don't see how we're going to get to the mainland. We'd have to be very lucky to escape being noticed by them. I just don't feel like trusting to luck. I've a feeling that we've used up all that the gods gave us at our birth."

  Deyv was inclined to agree with her, but he couldn't stand the idea of spending the rest of his life on the island. The slaves and Feersh's children, except Jowanarr, were seriously considering this. They'd said nothing while the boat making was going on. But now that the setting-out was due—overdue, actually—

  they were close to mutiny. Feersh railed at them and threatened them with torture and death. Her sons didn't laugh at her, but the slaves weren't hesitant to tell her that she was no longer the feared witch. She was just an old woman whose only weapon was her sharp venomous tongue. One slave, Shlip, dared to tell her that if she didn't shut up he'd wring her scrawny neck. Feersh turned red, so red that she looked as if she were going to have a stroke. Gasping, she swayed, then had to sit down to keep from falling.

  The Yawtl enjoyed this very much. He agreed that the dissenters were probably right. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to stay. What was needed was some other method of travel. He'd have to think about it. But since this required some time, he wasn't going to leave yet either.

  Sloosh had been observing the birds and winged animals. Shortly after Feersh had been put down by the slave, the Archkerri returned to the camp from the other side of the island.

  "I've been watching the birds for quite a while. There are those who make this place their permanent home. And there are those who fly in from the mainland, stay awhile, then fly on out over the water.

  They must be going on to land across the waters. Which means that this is not the ocean but a lake." He paused, then said, "Unless they're going to another island."

  "You can do what you want to do," Deyv said. "I'll wish you good fortune, though. You've been a good comrade, even if you are rather exasperating at times."

  "The same to you," the plant-man said. "There have been times when I've almost thought of you as an

  Archkerri. If only you could think as clearly as I do ..."

  Deyv's warmth toward him was threaded with another feeling. This was not just sadness at having to leave him. It was something close to panic. Somehow the Archkerri had become a substitute for the man's soul egg. He wasn't a completely satisfactory replacement, far from it. But Sloosh had given Deyv a certain amount of security, and the Archkerri's wisdom, however distorted it was in some ways, had made Deyv feel toward him as he'd felt toward his grandmother. Several times he'd had to repress the impulse to ask Sloosh to cuddle him.

  Sleep-time after sleep-time passed. Still, nobody had said, "Now is the time to set out." There were too many sail-beasts cruising around the island and too many giant fish exploding from the water.

  One day Deyv was up on the promontory, watching the marine life, when Sloosh joined him and said,

  "I've observed that the adult sailship-beasts never attack the young ones."

  Smiling, Deyv turned toward the Archkerri.

  "You just gave me an idea. We'll capture a young beast that's not too large to handle. And we'll sail it back to the land."

  Sloosh buzzed an exclamation, then said, "Why didn't I think of that? Because it's too aggressive an idea? Sometimes, in certain situations, personality can be more valuable than intelligence. However ... let me consider this."

  After a while he opened his eyes.

  "How do you propose to control the beast?"

  "I think I know how to do that. Now, here's what I have in mind."

  27

  AFTER much argument, a course of action was agreed upon. First, they had to make another boat, one large enough to hold all of them. Then ropes and wooden grapples would be fashioned, and a stock of smoked meat and fruits had to be laid in. If the plan went as it should, however, they'd not require most of their provisions. When all this had been done—the only serious interruption being a series of earthquakes— they caught and smoked a large pile of fish and put the catch into a fiber net.

  Before the chase could be started, it was necessary to wait for the quarry. Luckily, this took only a sleeptime and a half. Along came three of the young sail-beasts, one much smaller than the other two. The voyagers launched the boat into the heavy surf without upsetting it, having practiced this until they were weary of it. Vana and Hoozisst raised the single triangular sail, then joined the paddlers.

  As they approached their quarry, the beasts changed course to get away from the unfamiliar thing. Deyv, in the bow, threw out some fish and some legs of meat. Immediately, the beasts turned toward the food, which was floating on the surface, buoyed by air bladders from a sea plant. It took some maneuvering to bring the boat up alongside the youngest creature. After almost turning over once, they accomplished it.

  Deyv cast out some more fish, and the young beast started to turn in toward them. Vana and the Yawtl quit paddling and grabbed the ropes controlling the sail.

  _Deyv, praying to Soonwitl, the water god, threw his lariat. Despite the up-and-down motion of the boat and the wind blowing against it, the noose settled around the tiny projection, a-sailless bowsprit, just below the junction of bow and deck. The noose was pulled tight and the rope wrapped at the other end around a stout post fixed in the thick bottom of the dugout. Jowanarr held the extreme end, ready to' pay out more rope if it was needed.

  Swinging sidewise, the dugout bumped into the hull of the beast The paddles on that side were withdrawn just in time to keep them from being pinned. Deyv leaped just before the contact and landed upright on the deck of the beast. However, he had to fling himself forward to keep from falling back off the edge, since the beast was leaning to one side. He was up at once and drove, the spear he'd carried in one hand into the leathery flesh of the deck.

  The Yawtl came up next, the end of a rope in his hand. He quickly secured it around the spear, and Deyv caught the end of another rope tossed by Vana. There was a desperate scramble then as the others came aboard. Sloosh, of course, was last.

  Deyv had wanted to untie the ropes after this phase was done. The others had said that they should wait until they were sure that the beast could be controlled. If it couldn't, they could return to the dugout. If it could be handled, then the boat could be released so that it wouldn't slow down the beast.

  Deyv and Hoozisst hauled up onto the deck the very heavy net filled with smoked fish. Vana had thrown the long pole and its sawhorselike support onto the deck before she'd come aboard. Sloosh, bracing his four legs to keep his balance, carried the pole to the bow. Deyv carried the support after him, while two slaves dragged the netful behind him.

  By then the flower-eyes on the masts and yardarms had turned toward the trespassers. Deyv felt selfconscious and a little apprehensive, but he didn't think that the beast could do anything about the situation. After all, it didn't have hands, and it couldn't roll over.

  Deyv set the support just behind the edge of the bow and helped Sloosh tie the net to its end. The plantman and the Yawtl handled the pole, pushing it outward until the net hung about six feet beyond the bow. Then they lowered the net until it was just above the top of the waves.

  Two of the slaves had to be called to hang on to the legs of the support. Since the deck was wet, the support tended to slide to one side whenever the beast turned and so caused the deck to tip. Vana tied a rope to the end of the pole behind the straining men and the Archkerri. This was to ensure that the pole wouldn't be lost if it did slip overboard.

  Deyv directing, the pole was kept pointing at where they thought the mainland should be. Their only reference was the island. Once the top of the peak was below the horizon, they would have to trust to luck. But the beast turned toward the fish hanging in front of it and headed in the right direction. Of cou
rse, it had to go off the straight line to tack against the wind, and its tempters had to take this into consideration. When it veered, they would swing the fish to be in line with its travel. When the beast had angled away too much, they swung the fish to one side. It would then change course to bring the wind at the correct angle against its sail.

  "It works! It works!" Deyv cried. "Yes," Hoozisst said, "as long as we work, work, work."

  They had a long way to go. They'd have to take turns at handling the pole, and eat arid work in shifts.

  The length of each shift would be determined by the strength of the handlers. This meant that the main burden would fall on Deyv's party. Feersh, her children, and the slaves had led too easy a life for too long. Their experiences since the tharakorm had lifted had toughened them somewhat, but none had the muscular strength or endurance of their captors.

  Sleep-time came and passed with much labor and short naps. By the next one, all except Sloosh were near exhaustion. Nevertheless, they couldn't slacken. From time to time they had to pull the net in and remove a few fish. These they threw ahead of them so the beast could have something to eat, to tempt it onward. They feared that if it got nothing at all, hunger would drive it to seek living fish. They prayed that it would chase the uncatchable net until they were at least in sight of land.

  Halfway through the third sleep-time, the beast took off after a school of large fish with high-curving fins on their backs. For a while this led them in the direction they wanted, but then the school veered away. The beast followed it. Only by throwing out about twenty fish from the net could they entice it to get back on the right course. And there was no sign of land ahead.