DARK IS THE SUN

by Philip José Farmer

  Fat Bull said that the tribe couldn't stay out there that long. As it was, they took a chance of being attacked by their enemies every time they came here. He hurried off to make arrangements while Sloosh and Deyv continued the lessons. The shaman's people wished to observe the lessons, and they loathed the idea of not eating their captives. But, after Fat Bull berated them, they packed up.

  Twelve warriors and three females stayed behind as guards. To make sure that the prisoners wouldn't escape, the guards bound their hands and feet. Only when the captives were exercising or teaching

  Phemropit were they untied.

  "Actually, I don't need you," the shaman said. "I can give lessons to him myself. But why should I do all the work? Besides, you might arm yourselves and come back for revenge. I'll let you loose when the whole tribe returns to witness the god as he starts for our village."

  "What about my sword?" Deyv said. "You promised—"

  "I promised you could go free. That's all."

  Fat Bull was wearing Deyv's ancient blade in a scabbard. He'd also appropriated Sloosh's huge axe. He was not going to give up such immensely valuable weapons. Deyv didn't blame him; he'd have done the same thing in the shaman's position. He was not, however, going to leave the vicinity without trying to get the weapons back. Probably the shaman knew this and was counting on him to return. Then he'd be able, with a clear conscience, to take him captive again and have him for supper. No doubt, he was hoping to catch all of them again.

  "Does that mean we also can't have our cube back?" Sloosh said.

  Fat Bull's big dark eyes narrowed. His high forehead and protruding face made him look part-human, part-fish, part-pig.

  "I need that to control the god."

  Seven sleep-times passed. A messenger came from the village. He said that the male appointed by Fat

  Bull to guard and feed the captives' two animals had been found dead and half-eaten in front of the cabin. Evidently, they had somehow gotten to him.

  Deyv asked the shaman if that meant that Jum and Aejip would be killed if he called them in from the jungle. He'd seen them twice skulking around its edges.

  "Not if you guarantee they won't attack us," Fat Bull said. "Actually, I don't mind much that they put an end to Whistling Eagle. He was very insolent, which is why I punished him by making him stay behind."

  Deyv shouted their names until Jum came bouncing in, tail wagging, and, slavering, had swarmed all over him. The cat slunk in, not trusting the Tsimmanbul. Once she was assured that she was safe, she leaped, fawning upon Vana. Deyv's jealousy was only slightly diminished when she came to him afterward and leaned rumbling against his leg.

  The lessons continued with, by now, all of Deyv's party except the blind witch and Fat Bull taking turns as teachers. Phemropit didn't tire; he apparently could store information and retrieve it as if he were a machine. He also learned, after the fourth sleep-time, that his light beam would penetrate the flesh of its teachers. He at once softened the beam so that it would only warm their skins.

  Once it was time for him to learn abstractions, however, he began having trouble understanding. The concept of sex was for the moment beyond him. He didn't grasp how his interrogators ate or the reason why. He also had trouble comprehending the idea of individuation.

  "It will understand these in time," Sloosh said. "But they are not in its experience, and so it just can't visualize or feel them. I refer to Phemropit as it, not him, since it has no sex."

  Another series of earth shocks struck the camp. The crack in the beach widened. Some of the trees on the slope toppled over. The huts and the log cabin were tumbled. Sometime afterward a giant wave roared in from the lake, and it and those that followed washed away the earth from beneath the fallen tree. It floated away, leaving the god-thing with its rear hanging over a six-foot-high cliff.

  Sloosh asked Phemropit if it could move higher up.

  It replied that it could, but it didn't want to unless it was absolutely necessary. The energy required to do this would take too much of its fuel supply. As it was, the lessons, though not drawing on much of its energy, did weaken it. Sloosh didn't understand its explanation fully, but he thought that the thing would have to go into a suspended animation soon. That is, unless it could be provided with the stuff which provided its energy.

  "It's been in a sort of hibernation, if I may use a biological analog," the plant-man said. "Then, some human generations ago, it decided to make an effort to force its way up from burial. It did so, but the effort took a lot of its limited fuel. I think that it eats rock which contains radioactive elements. I've explained what these are to you, though none of you seem to understand them."

  He looked at them, then said, "If it runs out of the elements needed, it dies. In a sense, that is. It could stay dead for a very long time, yet would have the potential for coming alive again as long as its metalstone body wasn't badly damaged."

  Deyv said, "What happens if its energy does run out now? Won't Fat Bull consider that he doesn't have to keep his promise? He won't have much use for a dead, or at least sleeping, god."

  "We won't tell him about this. But if Phemropit should cease to talk to us, we'd better run."

  "Let's hope that Phemropit doesn't say anything to Fat Bull about this."

  "Phemropit won't bring up the subject."

  "Why don't we think about how to kill the Tsimmanbul so we can get on to the land of The Shemibob?"

  Hoozisst asked. "We're wasting time with this talking rock."

  "Don't you have any curiosity about Phemropit?" Sloosh buzzed disgustedly. "Here's a creature unknown to Earth until now, a being of stone and metal that has a language and hence a sentient nervous system."

  The Archkerri raved on, but the Yawtl only smirked.

  Though he admitted that the plant-man knew far more than he did, he also thought that Sloosh was mentally off-balance and very impractical. If Hoozisst could have profited by staying on, he would have been all for it. But this business was most aggravating and frustrating.

  The Archkerri didn't get to finish his lecture. The ground began rumbling and rippling, and then with a loud crack like the snap of a giant whip, the earth separated nearby. It was only a zigzag opening about three inches wide, but they didn't know what horrible sequel to expect. There was no place to run. In any event, the earth was shaking so much they couldn't even stand up.

  Trees fell right and left, and one rolled toward them, its branches breaking off. It stopped short of crushing them, but the ends of some snapped-off branches lay only a few inches away. A huge boulder smashed into the tree and bounced over it, narrowly missing a Tsimmanbul.

  After the temblors had faded away, everybody got up and ran toward the top of the hill. Deyy, Vana,

  Hoozisst, Feersh, and her daughter had their hands tied in front of them. They fell, but they managed to get up and struggle upward.

  Another shock, as intense as the first one, rocked the top of the hill just as they reached it. The boulders there fell on either side of the slopes. One roared by the god, almost striking it, and stopped some feet past the shoreline.

  A long time later a tsunami smashed into the hill, reaching halfway up. Wave after wave made the hill shudder, covering Phemropit, washing the ground from under him, snatching the uprooted trees away, and moving the boulders back and forth.

  In the midst of this terror, only Sloosh was able to talk. Watching the ocean battle for the stone-metal creature, he said, "Too bad! Too bad! I would have found out so much about its kind!"

  When the ocean finally subsided, Phemropit was not in sight.

  Fortunately, though the cube had been yanked savagely many times and once struck by a boulder, it had not been carried away. The rope-chain, the other end of which was fastened to a tree at the bottom of the opposite slope, had held.

  "My god is gone!" the shaman cried.

  "Some god," the Yawtl said. "Here we are, safe, but the god of the sea has proven mightier than the god from outer spa
ce. I think—"

  "What you think is wrong," Sloosh said. He pointed down to the riven beach.

  Out of the' sea rose the shiny dark-gray back of Phemropit. In a short time, its whole body was in sight, its endless tracks with their treads rotating. It came up the beach, then began climbing the hill. Though it slipped back in the soft earth three times, it kept on, and presently it was resting on the top. Its "nose"

  pointed slightly downward.

  32

  OTHER shocks followed at widely separated intervals, but these were much weaker. Three sleep-times after the big ones, a Tsimmanbul warrior ran panting into the camp and threw himself onto the ground.

  After he'd recovered his wind, he piped, "Hear me, my tribespeople! The gods have turned away from us! When they shook the earth so fiercely, they cracked open the cliff on which our village was! All our people fell into the sea and were killed! All except me! I alone was spared so that I might give you the terrible news!"

  Wailing and screaming, the Tsimmanbul rolled on the ground and gashed themselves with stone knives.

  After a while the bleeding shaman picked up a spear and ran it through the messenger, who did not defend himself. He had expected such a reward for bringing bad news.

  Sloosh, the only one of the captives unbound at the time, took advantage of the mourning. He untied the others, and they grabbed weapons wherever handy. Deyv struck the shaman on the head with a tomahawk and took his sword back. Sloosh recovered his axe. When Fat Bull had recovered his senses, he sat on the ground and wailed.

  "You shouldn't have messed around with Phemropit," the Yawtl said. "It has taken its revenge."

  "Nonsense," Sloosh said. "It doesn't even know what's going on. It expended its little reserve energy getting out of the sea and has only enough left to communicate with us. But even that will be gone if we don't find food for it."

  The Tsimmanbul rose then and formed a ring around the shaman. They began chanting in words so ancient that only the shaman knew their meaning. One by one, Fat Bull pierced them with a spear and cut their throats. When this was done, he asked Sloosh to make sure that he died. The Archkerri .said that it was the least he could do. Fat Bull put the butt end of his spear at an angle into the dirt, and he fell upon it, driving it deep into his belly. The plant-man came up behind him and slashed through the fat to sever the jugular.

  "Very curious," he said. "Definitely nonsurvival."

  Since the Tsimmanbul were not human-appearing enough to make it cannibalism, their former captives cooked and ate them. The flesh was tender and tasty, though somewhat fishy. The skeletons were tossed into the jungle, where the insects and small predators competed for the meat still sticking to the bones.

  By then Phemropit was able to tell them in what direction to go to look for its food. It was also able to describe it in its raw state and to warn them about the dangers in preparing it. From the middle of its back a small section of stone-metal sank down, and then a tall thin rod of the same substance rose from the hole.

  Thinner rods which came down from a knob on top of the larger opened up. They rotated fully many times; then all but one of the small rods folded downward. The single one was left, pointing like a finger inland.

  The Dark Beast had half-passed over; the open sky behind it gave plenty of illumination. In the direction in which the rod pointed was a dark area shaped like a scythe. This would line them up with their goal while they went through the jungle.

  Hoozisst complained about the work and its dangers, but he went with the others. He didn't want to be left alone with the god.

  "How does Phemropit detect its food?" Deyv said.

  "I've explained the principles of radioactivity to you. The ore which contains his food lies some distance from here, probably on a mountainside. It will be near the shore of this lake and will be material broken off and cast out by the impact of the meteorite. Which was so large it should be called a planetoid.

  Which I've also described to you.

  "You see, Earth itself long ago lost all its radioactivity. But the planetoid must have been of younger stuff and so still was rich in radioactive minerals. I know that because, otherwise, Phemropif s people would have run out of their food and become, if not dead, inanimate.

  "Phemropit's antennae detected some of the radioactive particles emitted by this lode. As I said, the ore can't be far away, fortunately for us. Phemropit could have gone to it itself if its energy weren't so low.

  And when we've gotten enough to it to charge its energy bank, it will travel there on its own power."

  They found the ore, a dark, large, irregularly shaped patch embedded in the red and gray of a mountainside, near the base. The radioactive ore, Sloosh explained, had been buried so deep that

  Phemropit couldn't detect it. But the quakes had dislodged that part of the mountain which had previously covered it. The labor of extracting the ore was long and hard. A long search of the area found a source of flint, and from this they fashioned digging tools. These broke frequently, requiring more trips for more flint. But finally the time came when they had a pile of several tons of broken ore.

  They made two small wagons under Sloosh's supervision—none except him knew the principle of the wheel as a means of transportation—and they dragged them into the jungle. They had to cut a path, a weary back-breaking labor, but eventually they got the wagons to Phemropit.

  It mounted the piles and took the rocks into its body through an opening in the belly. When it had

  "digested" a certain amount, a plate of metal-stone slid back, and the useless residue dropped out. It now had enough energy to go a few miles into the jungle. The party returned to the mountain and extracted more ore. This time, they didn't have to travel so far. Phemropit ate their offerings, dropped its stony excrement, and went on a few more miles.

  A long, long time passed. And then the creature was able to dig into the mountain itself, and their work was done. Phemropit put out from its belly a structure which bore an endless track with sharp metal teeth instead of treads. The hard rock was cut apart and picked up and taken into the belly.

  Another long time passed with the creature never pausing in its work. Finally, it was through. Its belly was full, and the mountain had a large hole in it. Below the hole was a great pile of residue.

  Sloosh may have been beaming behind the leaves. He sounded as if he were. "There now. It wasn't so bad, was it? It certainly was worth all the time and effort."

  "It had better be," the Yawtl said. "I've got calluses on my hands that will never wear off, and a pain in my back that'll stay until I die. Even so, my ghost may suffer backache throughout eternity."

  Later, when they were riding on Phemropit's back, Hoozisst grudgingly admitted that the "god" had its uses. Moreover, when they came to seaside villages, they didn't have to detour. The tribespeople ran screaming into the jungle and hid until this terrifying monster and its strange riders were long gone. The passengers would get off its back and take whatever they wanted of the food or any interesting artifacts.

  The Yawtl loaded its top with so many useless if pretty objects that he was forced to throw away most of them. He shouted and threatened but did as ordered. He also complained about the space that Feersh and

  Jowanarr took up. Sloosh, however, said that they too would have their use.

  They came to a highway of the ancients which ran out from the jungle and curved parallel to the beach.

  Sloosh said that this meant that they were far past the great inland lake.

  "The planetoid destroyed all the highways for many thousands of square miles around the crater. This highway may have been twisted and rippled, but it has straightened out."

  Phemropit went on the road, and they traveled on it for many miles before they came to a junction.

  Jowanarr told her mother that there were signal-poles there.

  Feersh said, "Stop! I can find out how far we are from the edge of The Jeweled Wasteland. If, that is, some cataclysm hasn't
snapped this particular circuit."

  They all got down. Jowanarr led the witch to the nearest pole. Feersh put her hands on its cool metallic substance. She stood for a long time, listening, as she said, with her whole body. Since she'd requested silence, the others did not talk during this time.

  When she was through with this phase of her interrogation, she said, "I didn't tell you about this secret, though Jowanarr knew, of course. I have used the highways of the ancients to monitor the approach of my enemies. When you were on the highway, I knew exactly where you were and how many you were.

  It was when you left the road that I lost track of you."

  "Most interesting," Sloosh said. "Do you know the power source of the highways?"

  "No. I suspect that it comes from the heat still left in the metal core of Earth. I'm surprised that the leads from the highways to the power source haven't been broken before now by the many earthquakes.

  Perhaps they are very flexible. The ancients built well indeed."

  Phemropit was brought up alongside the pole, and Feersh and Jowanarr got onto its back. Directed by her mother, Jowanarr felt along the rim of the pole's eye, which gave the green color. She pressed at two places, and the covering of the eye popped out. She guided Feersh's finger into the hole and onto the round metallic projection which was emitting the green light. Then she took her mother's other hand and put the finger of her left hand onto the emitter. Her finger did not touch her mother's.

  The two stood there for a long time, Feersh staring sightlessly but no doubt "seeing" with the cells of her body, Jowanarr with her eyes closed, also "seeing." Then the witch withdrew her finger, and her daughter opened her eyes and took her finger away.

  "The edge of The Wasteland is approximately a thousand miles away," she said. "By the highway that goes into the jungle, that is. The one along the beach would take us five hundred miles more before we'd come to The Wasteland."

  Vana was more sensitive than the others to subtleties in a person's voice. She said, "Why are you doubtful about taking the shorter route?"