Adam and Ray moved hesitantly closer, then alertly jerked away from each other. Now, whenever Ray's weight came on his right leg, he limped.
A purple welt from one of the exchanges was now rising on Ray's hairy forearm. But he was able to make himself stop limping. "You are a true Jovian," he said, sounding like a proud father. "A true—"
He got his guard up just barely in time. Again the last phase of the attack damaged him; he could not move swiftly enough to escape entirely what he perceived was coming. Nor could he strike back with Adam's unthinking speed.
Adam made no conscious tactical plan. He moved in on Ray, and let the years of training and practice take over.
Adam was knocked down again. Then when Ray stepped close to kick at him, Adam blocked the kick with his own feet, tripped Ray and threw him back and down. Both men got to their feet, almost grappling, breaking apart at the last instant. Then they lunged and fell together, lungs sobbing for air, arms locking and twisting for advantage. Ray's greater strength began to tell. Adam got an arm free, and jabbed his enemy in the throat, and broke away.
Timeless and bloody, the fight wore on.
Adam stood watching Ray's head sway back and forth. It was an almost hypnotic movement against the background of the Ringwall, and Adam could not tell how much of the unsteadiness was Ray's and how much was his own. But Adam had to pause for a moment, to gasp for breath, he had to rest. He felt as if a gang had been beating him, though he could remember no details of the times that Ray had been able to get to him.
Ray's head swayed farther to one side; then all at once the huge man sank into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. His hands lay down at his sides, his arms moving, quivering as if he were trying to lift them and could not. His throat made a choking whistle with each breath, and now before he could speak he had to spit out something bloody.
"I must conquer you." Ray could get out the words only a few at a time, with little sobbing breaths between. "Or I must kill you. Can't you see. I am the leader. I am. The greatest. Jovian of all."
Adam could still stand up. And he could still talk. "You killed Alice."
The blue eyes of the superman were filled with pain. Once before, long ago, Adam had seen those eyes look just like that. But now Adam bent and picked up a sharp piece of rock. Just the right size. His hard hands hurt, and a rock would be a handy thing with which to crush a skull.
Ray was trying to say something more. "I—I—if you are the leader, Adam—" He gasped, and shook his head. "Lead them well, Adam." He looked up, pleading. "Don't get them into trouble. I—I—sometimes I feel sick—"
Ray managed to lift his hands all the way up to his head. Then he rolled over sideways, writhing on the rock. From the clear sky there came a fall of pebbles to patter around him.
The rock in Adam's hand felt far too heavy now; his bruised hand was trembling under the weight of it. He turned and pitched it out into the river. Now there was nothing left.
No, one thing, one person. Merit. He had to get to her.
Climbing down from the little plateau of rock was painful. And after he had climbed down he could not rest, but had to go staggering back up the little ravine. Because Merit was there.
From across the river the Ringwall looked down on him, as indifferent as the sun. Someday, he told it, we'll learn what you really are. But now he had no emotion left for it.
Merit was sitting almost where he had left her. No more contortions of grief, but apathetic calm.
Adam sank down beside her, looked into her eyes that followed him gently, and reached out with his hand. Without meaning to, his fingers left blood on her cheek. Maybe it was the feel of the blood that pulled her up to full awareness.
"Adam, you're hurt." Gently she took him by the neck, and pulled his head down into her lap and held it there, her hands pressing and rubbing the back of his head tenderly. "I was afraid for a long time that they'd do something to Vito," she said softly. "Still when it happened I couldn't believe it."
Adam closed his eyes. His whole body trembled violently for a moment, then was able to let go in utter relaxation. "I fought with Ray," he told her. As if he were a child hoping for an explanation from Merit, for reassurance, for something that would make sense. "He's still alive, sitting up there."
"I know, I know." Her fingers soothed him. "Later we'll worry about him. Rest now. Heal."
Time passed. Adam felt the strengthening morning sun on his back. Suddenly he became aware of two things: he was intensely thirsty, and his cheek was resting on the thigh of a very desirable woman.
He raised his head and opened his eyes, and saw a geryon looking at him, from only thirty meters up the ravine.
Chapter Nineteen
They had one knife between the two of them, one small blade with which to try to defend themselves. Looking over the upper edge of their little ravine, Adam spotted four more geryons, higher on the broad slope, and working their way slowly down. The hides of these animals were darker than those of the geryons of the Stem area, and these were perhaps on the average a little larger; but from what Adam could see of them so far, their hunting formation appeared to be the same. He had no doubt that they were hunting now, and little doubt of what they had selected as their prey.
He held a quick discussion with Merit, and they began to make their way down toward the river; no other direction appeared to offer any chance at all of avoiding the animals.
When they came in sight of the high rock on the shoreline, Ray was no longer there. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Adam."
He paused. They were almost at the shoreline now. "What?"
Merit was holding both hands to her head. Then she looked up, as Ray had, squinting toward the few high clouds that trailed through the calm silent sky above the endlessly rising mist. She said: "Something terrible is happening—there's killing and killing, out there."
"The Field-builders?"
"No. I don't know if they even exist. All I know about them is what Ray… I mean our people, and… our people. We can't expect any help, down here, from anyone."
"You teleport," said Adam. "Jump out of here. Try to get back to the Stem, or up to a ship, whatever. We'll forget about the Field-builders, they don't seem to be bothering us. I'll be all right, until you can get some kind of help back to me."
"No." She looked at him. "I wouldn't leave you."
"Go, I tell you. I'm used to this kind of thing. I enjoy it. I'll be all right."
"No. Anyway, you don't understand. I can't tele-port alone. Not now."
Adam had no breath or strength left in him for argument. He looked back. The things with human faces were getting closer, coming slowly and methodically down the slope in their fan-shaped formation. A couple more of them had appeared from somewhere. They were able to smell the blood on him, of course, Ray's blood and some of his own; they could tell a kilometer away when something was hurt and weakened.
Should he separate from Merit? Not yet, anyway; there were advantages for her as well as for him in the two of them being together. He would try to get away with her down the river, or across it; the water ought to wash him clean of blood and that might help.
They forced their way through a shoreline row of tall bushes, and emerged from it with the river right at their feet. They were in full view now of the Ringwall, towering distantly atop the rocky slope that went up from the far shore. The river here was swift foaming water a hundred meters wide, everywhere shallow and dotted with small rocky islets. Not far from where Adam and Merit were standing, a fallen tree made a bridge from shore out to the nearest of these islands.
The geryons were closing in on the two humans quickly now, their hunting formation only fifty meters away. Adam urged Merit out onto the fallen tree.
It was sturdy enough to bear them, and they both reached the nearest island easily. But the island promised no safety. Within a minute there were seven geryons gathered only a log's length away, on the shore that the two people had just le
ft. The animals began cautiously testing the water with massive feet.
"They're going to come after us," said Adam.
"Then we'll have to cross the river."
"All right. Let's go." It did not look absolutely impossible—and there really was no other choice.
Gripping hands, they slid into the water, that was here about waist deep.
Behind them, the animals were entering the water together, beginning a slow swimming and wading progress toward the first island.
The crossing would have been a perilous one, even starting fresh and with no danger in pursuit. Wherever the water was deep, the man and woman swam and were swept downstream. When a sandbar or one of the small islands came within reach, or the stream shallowed sufficiently, they would brace their feet on the bottom and wade again, or grip and climb on rock.
Their lead over the cautious animals steadily lengthened.
There were periods of time, some of them lasting for many seconds, when Adam found that his mind and Merit's were in contact, when without using precious breath they could trade exact pictures of grips and footing and the distance of the pursuing animals. Perhaps it was this mental contact that tipped the scales, and brought them across the river alive.
Adam crawled out upon the shore of the Ring-wall's vast island feeling that another three meters of river to cross might have been too much. Now he could imagine no experience in life finer than just to lie on firm ground, without moving, and concentrate upon the enormous job of breathing that there was to be done.
The geryons were still following them, so far as inexorably as death. But they had made the crossing with their usual prudence, and without the help of human hands to cling to island rock. Therefore they had been swept well downstream, and were now visible only as a scattered cluster of small dots in the distance, still in the water. The animals' crossing of the river was not yet finished; it might well be half an hour before they reached this spot. But their presence downstream killed any idea of escape by simply drifting or floating in that direction.
Merit had recovered enough to sit up. But all was not well with her. "Damn it. I've done something to my ankle."
Adam raised himself on his elbows. "Teleport. Get out of here. Bring back help. Do it for me. I'd do it if I could."
"I tried, Adam. A moment ago. I tried to teleport to a spot just in front of the geryons. I thought it might scare them off. But I couldn't jump. Anywhere. Not even ten meters." Merit gave a little watersoaked smile that quickly faded. "When Vito died, and the others who were burned like him, up in their ships, there was some kind of terrible— backlash. A parapsych reaction. None of the talents are working properly any more."
Adam grunted. Finding himself able to move again, he got over to where Merit was sitting and started to examine her ankle.
From behind him, a familiar voice said: "I plan to rebuild your minds. Both of you."
Ray was there, seated crosslegged in the air, two meters above the ground. His eyes looked vacantly out at them from his battered face. Ray's arms both hung limply at his sides; one of them was elongating and shortening again, over and over, bone and flesh and even the sleeve included. Ray did not appear to notice the varying deformity at all.
"I crossed the river easily," said Ray. He spoke in a cheery voice that made the rest of him infinitely more horrible. "I can still teleport. I am the unique leader. The Field-builders won't be able to hide from me now. What do you suppose they think of that? Watch."
And he flickered out of sight.
Merit buried her face in her hands.
Adam stood up, and took her by the hand, and tried to get her up on her feet. "Never mind about Ray. Don't think about Vito. Those animals haven't given up. We've got to keep ahead of them, till we get somewhere they can't follow."
Merit managed to stand up. She even found a laugh from somewhere, though the sound of her laugh was far from reassuring. "At least we've had a good drink now," she said, and hobbled to refill their single canteen from the river. Their course now was going to take them uphill, away from water.
Adam asked: "How's the ankle?"
"I can block that kind of pain. And I think there's no great damage. I can walk."
Adam's beaten body had already stiffened from the short rest, he straightened up fully, with a grunt, and looked up the long rock-strewn slope toward the Ringwall's overwhelming pile.
"Then let's start up the hill," he said. "Who knows, if there's anyone home, we might even get some help."
From a rich supply of shoreline driftwood they chose two broken, dead branches to serve as staffs. They started up the slope, saving strength at the start by going slowly. Not that they were capable of much speed anyway. The pursuing geryons were still only distantly in sight.
Ahead of them, Ray sat on a rock, waiting.
Merit cried out to him: "Ray, do you know me? Can you understand me? We need help."
"I know you, both of you." Ray nodded wisely. "I understand you better than you understand yourselves."
"Ray, we need help."
"Against the Field-builders—yes, of course. And it's only right, only proper, that you should pray to a superior being for the help you need. Yes. Only right." Ray's face still showed some effects of the battering Adam had given him, but Ray no longer appeared dazed. Rather there was a look of profound wisdom in the blue eyes.
Adam glanced back over his shoulder. The geryon pack was completely across the river now, and were coming along the shore at a loping pace. Already they had gained a hundred meters or more. He said: "Ray, what do you want from us? Either do something to help us, or go away."
Ray looked at him keenly. "Adam, I want…"
"What?"
"I want you… I want you to come and visit our school when you can… Doc and Regina will be glad."
Ray still looked wise and confident. He presented the image of a leader that any human might be glad to follow.
In Adam's memory rose the events he had witnessed during the night on the ocean island. He let the picture rise, and pushed it forward in his thoughts; he could see in Merit's eyes, turned now to him in desperation, that she was reading it, and he could see that the implications of it hit her hard.
Adam took her by the arm. "Never mind. No time to think about all that how. Come along."
There was still only one way to go; animals and fate were driving them up to the Ringwall itself.
They walked around Ray, and in the moment of their passage he disappeared again.
The sun rose higher as they climbed. It burned down on them through the high rolling clouds of mist that here went up eternally from the great confluence of rivers. The rocks nearby, the great angled pile of the Ringwall ahead, the methodical animals steadily gaining in their pursuit, all shimmered faintly in the heat. Merit and Adam alternately drank from the canteen, a swallow at a time, and climbed on, not daring now to pause for even a moment's rest. Not when each backward glance showed the unhurried geryons a few meters closer.
We'll make it, Adam thought, trying to project encouragement to Merit. With his imagination at least he reached forward, trying to anchor himself on that approaching moment when they would stagger into the shadow of one of the Ringwall's mighty buttresses. There was no use trying now to look beyond that moment, to see what form safety was going to take.
But they were not going to win the race. There was no moment when the hope of escape vanished; it faded away slowly. The geryons were closing in more rapidly now, still without appearing to exert themselves. One of their commoner tactics was to let prey exhaust itself in flight, thus weakening the final resistance.
Merit stumbled suddenly—Adam had forgotten about her injured ankle—and he caught her by the arm. "Teleport out of here," he told her. "If you love me, go."
She shook her head, her body swaying in exhaustion. "I can't." She clung to him briefly, then pushed herself away, standing on her own feet. "I won't."
He took a last drink from the canteen and
handed it to Merit. "Finish it," he ordered. Then he bent and picked up a small rock and threw it thirty meters downhill at the nearest animal. The stone missed the arrogant, handsome face, and bounced harmlessly off the dark hide of one shoulder. The animal stopped for a moment, then took another hesitant step forward.
Adam screamed at it, a brief volley of obscenities. "We didn't come all this way to finish in your rotten guts!" Now all of the geryons paused briefly in their patient climbing, to watch and listen to him.
His throwing arm possessed no yesman power now, so it was unlikely that he could damage the animals seriously with rocks. He climbed again, with Merit. He had not thought, looking at this slope from the other side of the river, that the way up would be so long, the Ringwall so remote. The very size of it had fooled him. Now human strength was failing, draining from their trembling legs and sliding feet.
As always, the pack followed. Now suddenly one animal pulled out of it, and ran past Adam and Merit up the slope, grunting and wheezing in its brief effort for speed. It got ahead of them easily, cutting them off from the foot of the Ringwall. Blocking them from the towering mass of shimmering convoluted stone, laced with shadows, whose foot Adam now estimated was only a hundred meters ahead.
"There must be something there," Merit croaked to him. "There must be some kind of help there, if they trouble to cut us off from it." She was hardly able to stand, and her hands were bleeding from the sharp rocks that she had gripped and fallen on. It would be of no help to Merit if he were to separate himself from her now.
"Come on." And Adam led her on, climbing straight toward the waiting geryon. The beast weighed ten times what they weighed together, and its yellowed teeth were the size of human hands. Yet it shook its head nervously when they moved straight at it. Adam pulled out the knife from Merit's belt, and used it to slash a rough point on the end of his driftwood staff. His legs kept working under him, somehow still driving him upward, slow step after slow step.
The Golden People Page 19