The Best of Lester del Rey

by Lester Del Rey

  Abruptly, she stopped to study him. Then a slow, hard smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I was desperate enough to think of bribing you, Eli. But a poor man after forty years in your Service must be ah honest one. Still, at least, you can see what I chose for you.”

  It lay on the bottom of the box, gleaming iridescent in the light and silvery white in the shadows—a necklace of the almost mythical moon pearls. On Earth, one would buy full geriatric treatments and ten would win the governorship of almost any Sector he could name. His hand shook, but he managed a smile as he reached out to close the lid.

  Her own laugh sounded strained as she put the box away. “Well, perhaps someday the Goddess will reward you for honesty. One can always hope,” she said. Then she heaved herself up and turned to the doorway. “I’ve got a chariot waiting to take you to the palace.”

  It was on a nearby ramp that ran downward gradually until it passed through a narrow gate below the steps, but Judson hardly noticed the path the priestess driving it chose. He was cursing to himself and at himself as the picture of his interview with Kaia solidified in his thoughts. She’d given him a little information, shoved the entire responsibility on him, and—yes, damn it—she’d managed to offer him the moon pearls for his help! Those final words could only mean that. She’d managed it within an hour of meeting him; yet on her own ground and hi her own specialty, she couldn’t handle the problem she’d given him!

  Abruptly, the chariot jerked to a jarring halt and began backing. He looked up. The street they had been about to enter—the main street between palace and temple—was crammed with some kind of procession. In the very center, however, there was a clear space where one heavily-robed figure moved by itself.

  He caught the priestess’ hands as she tried to turn the team around. “Wait. Is that Athon?”

  She nodded, hate and sickness on her face.

  The binoculars did little good. The light was already failing, and the slow-moving figure seemed completely covered in a robe and hood. Judson turned to glance at the crowd, then focused in shoct on two of the Ludh bowmen, marching toward the rear! They had no business here! If the Ludh could be converted…

  A startled noise from the mob broke the weird minor chant that had been rising, and he spun back to see a Sayonese man running toward the solitary marching figure. In one arm he was brandishing a sword weakly,

  shouting as he ran. The flesh on his body was covered with the great scabs of brown skin-rot, and he was wasted to almost skeletal thinness.

  The men nearest him started for him, just as he staggered. But there was still strength enough in his body. With a final yell, he raised the sword and plunged it deep into his own breast.

  The robed figure stopped beside the threshing body on the street. A hand came out of the robe to pluck the sword easily from the wound, almost without touching it. Then the hand withdrew, and Athon bent over, as if chiding the dying man. Finally he straightened. The swordsman was quiet for a second. Then the body stirred, sat up, sprang to its feet with a wild cry of joy, and dashed back into the crowd. There were no brown scabs left on the emaciated figure.

  The chant rose to a wild frenzy and the procession moved on. In the center, the robed figure seemed to shake its head sadly.

  At Judson’s nod, the priestess got the chariot turned and began heading back through twisted alleys toward the palace. His mind was churning wildly on what he had seen. It was so completely beyond any use of healing power known to Earth—or even to the,legends here—that it could only be called a miracle, unless it had been the best-staged piece of trickery ever performed so openly.

  If word of such things got back to Earth, there’d be ships headed here in droves from every cult known to man, filled with credulous fools and profiteers—and among them might well be some of the hereditary president’s family. Fas Kaia had been more truthful than she knew when she equated her danger with Earth’s. In the unstable conditions back there, just the knowledge that such things could be would threaten the whole system. Meia had been a danger once; Athon was doom! At the palace, Dupont and his homely sister, with the eight human assistants who comprised all the Earthmen hi Kalva, were in the middle of some vague attempt at a welcoming party, but they seemed relieved when Judson pleaded extreme fatigue. They’d probably turn it into a dope binge now, from rumors of what went on here, with Dupont’s sister being passed around from man to man, not excluding her brother. But that was none of Judson’s business. With the decreasing number of women who came away from Earth for any reason now, men couldn’t be blamed for making the most of whatever they could find. Earth put stiff penalties on consorting with aliens, but it happened sometimes, even on Ludh. For that matter…

  He dropped the thought and unpacked in the apartment assigned to him. From the bottom of his small bag he drew a final piece—a tissue copy of Selected Books of the Testaments. He’d never read it, though he’d considered doing so; few men were familiar with any of the contents now, since the rise of the cult mysteries. But it had become his luck piece. He put it near him as he turned to the records Kaia had given him.

  The contents only confirmed her words, without adding any new information. And even confirmation was meaningless, since they could be forgeries. He’d have to play things by ear, it seemed—and probably one of his problems would be the priestess herself.

  But now the fatigue he had used as an excuse was turning to reality. He should call a slave to bathe him and prepare him for bed, but it was too much trouble. He made another futile attempt to think about his problems, then dropped onto the bed. He’d undress in a moment…

  Priestesses, goddesses, prophets! The last thing he had ever wanted was to get mixed into another Sayonese religious mess. Once had been bad enough—and yet…

  Thirty years before he grew old, a man could have plans for the future, even on an outworld in the Colonial Service. Eli’s hopes were based on a book dealing with the oddities in the ecological balance of a world where marsupials had won the race for domination. He was spending his biannual vacation by himself in the retreat of a village a hundred miles north of Kalva, using a building the Service had owned but abandoned.

  The book was neatly finished, too, and he’d been practically assured rjutfjicaltion. Then there’d be recognition, promotion, a chance to return to Earth; in time, there’d be a wife to make up for ten years without women; there’d be children. He’d always wanted a son of his own, though the idea was growing old-fashioned in the current culture.

  It might have worked, except for an unexpected storm that caught him taking a walk to clear his mind. The same storm found a window he’d left carelessly open and blew away his antibiotic kit and ruined his radio. That left only the native doctor, who knew nothing about pneumonia. Eli passed into a delirium with the unpleasant idea that he’d wake up only in heaven—in which he had no belief.

  When he came to, he was less sure. He felt rotten, and his sight was cloudy, but there was either an angel or an Earth girl in the room, talking Sayonese with an old greeny. She wore native clothes, but no native had skin like that—or provocative hips—or such shoulders. Then as she turned, he grunted in surprise. Damned few Earth women looked that good without makeup, either. He began to consider the angel idea seriously.

  She shook her head at him, switching to English that had almost none of the lisped dentals caused by Sayonese slotted palates. “I’m only a goddess,” she told him. “That is, I will be in another month. You’re lucky I hadn’t gone to Kalva yet, though. You were almost dead, and your cells are—well, they’re different. I had a hard time with you.” Then she bent closer, long yellow hair falling over his face. “Are you really an Earthman, Eli?”

  “I’m as much from Earth as you are,” he mumbled, reaching for her.

  She seemed puzzled at his efforts to kiss her, but made no protests until the greeny uttered something that sounded like teasing. Then she disengaged herself, running her hands over her chest. With a shock, he realized it wa
s as flat as his own.

  “What’s a breasts, Uncle Kleon?” she asked.

  “A breast, or two breasts—they come in pairs,” the creature told her, grinning in amusement. “Read his mind a little deeper and you’ll find a lot of things about them, I’ll bet.” His English was as easy and idiomatic as hers, though less clearly pronounced.

  For a moment, she stared down at Eli. Then she began giggling like a schoolgirl as she left the room.

  Kleon came over to drop heavily onto the bed. “I’m not really her uncle,” he said. “I’m her teacher, more or less, until she reaches the temple. I’m one of the few Sayonese who were admitted to one of your extension schools, before Earth decided to give up any idea of raising our living standard and to keep us on our own world. But I don’t hate Earth. I got over anger and hating long ago, which is probably why I’m still alive.”

  “But what about her?” Eli asked.

  The old man grinned affectionately. “She’s a lot more interesting than I am, I’ll admit. She’s what she says—a goddess. And a good thing, too. You were already in death shock when she got here. Haven’t you ever heard of our virgin goddesses?”

  Eli had heard some stories, but he hadn’t really believed them. There had been a girl born about a century before who looked like an Earth woman and who had some fantastic power to heal the sick and restore the maimed. But not that human! He looked outside to where she was talking to a couple of Sayonese. Then he frowned. In the sunlight, there seemed to be a touch of green to her skin, and there was a hint of a line across her abdomen where a S&y&nese girl would have had a pouch. But it could have been only a subtle disguise.

  “That’s her father and mother saying good-bye to her again,” Kleon said casually, indicating the two natives.

  Eli fainted. When he next regained consciousness, his body seemed to be completely recovered, though it could only have been a couple of hours later. He drank some of the hot cheese soup Kleon offered him, swung out of bed, and faced the old man. “All right, give it to me in detail,” he suggested.

  Kleon seemed ready and willing to oblige, and this time Eli was less skeptical. But he still had doubts until that evening when a wailing procession came up the road. Some had skin-rot, others were crippled, a few were blind. Then’^as they spotted Meia, their wails turned to cries «6f delight, and they made as much of a rush to her as they could, spreading out in front of her. Apparently, from what Eli could pick up of their degraded dialect, they had arrived late at her home village and been told she’d left, moving to Kalva for her birthday. Now finding her here was like a reprieve from hell. They seemed to regard Eli as a friend from heaven for having the good sense to get pneumonia and delay her.

  One by one she took care of them, sometimes talking to them, sometimes laying on her hands. Eli watched, trying to spot the gimmick, and finally gave up. Under her fingers, flesh that had begun to corrode away literally grew new skin. Bones knit. Cataracts vanished from eyes. And once, to get at a broken spine, she casually levitated a native from the ground, spun him over, and pressed her hands to his back. There was a chant going on, but nobody seemed surprised at her feat.

  When they were finally all cared for and spread out among the huts of the village, she turned to Eli. “It’s harder than it looks,” she told him. “But it feels good, too. Now, tell me about Earth.”

  The others had all gone, leaving him alone with her. He tried to satisfy her curiosity. But sometimes he wasn’t too clear about what he was saying. It wasn’t easy to get used to the idea that a pretty, innocent young girl could be half alien kangaroo, half a being close enough to divinity to work miracles.

  “I think we’ll stay here a few days,” she decided abruptly. “I want to know more about Earth people and to study you. Maybe I can even go to Earth and cure people.”

  It was bad enough trying to go to sleep while he knew she was lying naked in the next room—she’d insisted on having him quarter Kleon and herself. But the picture of her on Earth eventually blotted all that out. The planet administrator here was a neo-Blavatskyite of the worst kind, and he’d love nothing better than taking back a real goddess, law or no law. Once the senatorial families learned of what she could do, all hell would break loose. There’d be at least a dozen kidnaping attempts a month, and probably half as many palace revolutions to control her. She’d be worse than the Tarshian hypnotic lizard of the last century. Besides, there’d be trouble here at the idea of letting her go, and she’d probably get killed before she really saw Earth.

  He tried to argue her out of the idea during the next few days, sometimes with the casual help of Kleon. But she was quite sure she could handle anything, and she’d made up her mind.

  “Besides, nobody hurts a virgin goddess,” she told him, as if that had anything to do with his arguments. It did serve to throw him off, though.

  “Why a virgin, anyhow?” he asked. “You have a head goddess you call the Mother-Principle, but then she incarnates only in virgins. Isn’t that contradictory? I suppose she’d blast you asunder if you lost that one virtue.”

  “She’d leave, because she’s the All-Mother, not the One-Mother. Anyhow, I can’t really breed—I’m not naturally fertile with our men. Maybe, for children and if I loved a man, in your terms, I wouldn’t mind not being a goddess—but I’m not going to lose what I have for nothing.”

  Her words jerked his own thoughts back to level, with the sharp realization that he’d begun thinking of her as human again. Damn it, she might look like a woman, but even their basic cell structure was different. It would be easier to breed with an Earth tree than to have children with her. Not one of his chromosomes would match with hers. And morally, no matter what other reasons were involved, sex was related to having children. Besides, he knew nothing about Sayonese anatomy. Under her skirt, she might not be human at all.

  She giggled. “Eli, if you want me to take off my clothes, why don’t you ask? I don’t mind, really. Then you can see for yourself.”

  “Go to hell!” he told her, and stomped off, determined to pack and leave at once. A man could stand just so much. Innocent she might be, but she knew she had him going and sBj& was enjoying it.

  Still, he was tfierVton the fifth day, when he really should have been beginning the trip back to Kalva. Of course, they could have traveled together, but that would have been awkward. Instead of packing, he was walking beside her toward one of his favorite loafing spots at the top of a little hill.

  They came to a little dip in the ground that cut off the wind and he threw down a blanket and dropped onto it. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and he intended to nap now; She’d brought along the single book Kleon had preserved from his schooling—a tissue edition of some of the books of Earth’s old Bible. She and Kleon must have memorized it, but they still pored over it regularly. He sprawled out and she snuggled down beside him. Probably deliberately, she was closer than she had to be. He could feel her breasts move against him as she breathed.

  He sat up with a yelp, staring at her. Breasts? She’d been absolutely flat-chested when he first saw her! But she wasn’t now—not by a long ways.

  “You wanted them, so I changed,” she said contentedly. “It’s about time you noticed! And I took away the green in my skin you didn’t like and made the line where I should have a pouch disappear, too. See?”

  He saw, but at the moment he was more fascinated by what was there than by what wasn’t. If she were using padding, she was doing a darned good job of it.

  “They’re real,” she told him. “I picked the ones in your mind you liked best. You can feel, if you don’t believe me. I don’t mind. After all, it won’t mean anything to—to me….”

  But her breath caught as sharply as his, while his fingers slipped under the halter. He felt her tremble, and her nipples were lifting and eager for his hands.

  For a minute, she bent to him, her lips parting and reaching for him. Then abruptly she tore away, staring at him with wide, startled eyes.
For the first time, he saw fear on her face.

  “No!” she whispered.

  But it had to be. He saw it clearly now. Once she gave herself to him, she’d lose her dangerous powers and be just another girl. Maybe the change in her would be only a loss of faith hi herself, but that didn’t matter. It was his solution. Earth would never hear of her, and… and it had been ten years since he’d held a girl in his arms!

  He started toward her. Her face paled, then firmed again, and something seemed to explode in his head. He staggered, missed his footing, and fell.

  “No,” she repeated. “Not now. Not yet. I have to think.”

  This time he waited, knowing he could do nothing to force a creature with the powers of a goddess. The pressures hi huii rose and fought for expression, but he could only lie and wait. And in the end, it was she who came to him, slowly pulling the halter off as she moved toward him. He lay immobile until she was almost touching him before he groped for her. She pulled closer, straining against him with heaving breasts.

  “Show me hi your mind again. Show me everything,” she whispered. “I have to be sure.”

  His hands had found the slit hi her skirt by then and the buckle, but he tried to follow her wishes with his unclear, churning thoughts. And suddenly she was completely against him, with nothing between, panting in his ear. “I’m sure. Eli, I’m sure!”

  Ten years was a long time.

  The last Eli saw of Meia, she was sleeping in complete exhaustion, but with a touch of a smile on her lips. She muttered something in a weak voice, and he kissed her lightly, trying to keep his mind from thinking too loud.