But his mind had welled up, and Chugren saw his thought. He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm sorry, Dahano. I didn't meet your son."
Dahano looked down. "At least there will be no more." He thought of all the persons who had burned because of the Masters, and all the souls that had gone into the sky. Somewhere, on one of those worlds Chugren spoke of, there were many persons who had waited for this day to come. It was good to know that they had a home much like this world, which only the Masters had spoiled. It was good to know that some day his own soul would be there with them, and that he would be with his son again.
He remembered the long hours with Borthen, passing on to him the old ways he had learned from his father—the ways of having land of a person's own, and a house, and cattle; the remembered things, saved and kept whole from the days before the Masters were here, coming suddenly from their one village in the faraway mountains.
Many things had been lost, but they were only unimportant things that would be of no use; persons' names, and the memory of persons' lives. A person lived, died, and his sons remembered him for their lives, but then he began to fade, and his grandsons might never remember him.
The important things had lived on. Dahano knew that had been a great effort. There were always persons who were willing to let themselves forget, and simply live out what lives they had. But always there were persons who would not forget; who waited for the day when the villagers could claim the world for their own again, and need to know how to live without anyone's commanding them.
So, in all the villages, fathers taught their sons, and the sons remembered.
Dahano's face wrinkled in grief as he thought of his dead son. Borthen had remembered—perhaps too well. He had still been a young man, with a young man's fire in his blood. So he tested Chugren's power, and Chugren—the old Chugren—had commanded him to die for not tending the cattle properly.
Two more days—two more days of patience, Borthen, and I would have my son. I would not be alone. Some day you would have been Headman.
Dahano raised his eyes slowly. There were things to be done, and he was Headman in this village.
"What are you going to do?" he asked Chugren. "Are you going to make us all Masters?"
Chugren shook his head. "No. Not for a long time. And then it's going to be your own people who make themselves Masters. That's why, at first, we weren't going to let you know that anything had happened to Chugren and his fellows. What do you think would happen if we simply went to all the villages and told the people they were free?"
"If you went as you really are?"
"Yes."
"The people would be frightened. Many of them wouldn't know what to do. And afterwards I don't think they'd be happy."
"They'd know somebody came down from the sky and simply gave them their freedom."
Dahano nodded. "It would never be their freedom. It would be a gift from someone else who might come to take it back some day."
"That's why we've got to go slowly. Today Chugren came to this village and cleaned it up. In a few days, he'll come back and do something else to make things better. One by one, the old Masters' rules will be eliminated, and in a few months, everyone will be free. Some people will wonder what made the Masters change. But it won't have been sudden, and in a few generations, I think your people will have invented a hero who made the Masters change." Chugren smiled. "You, perhaps, Dahano. And then one day the Masters will go away, and their city'll burn to the ground, and that'll be the end of it."
"We'll be free."
"You'll be free, and you'll have your pride. You'll grow, you'll learn—a little faster than you might have, perhaps, and you'll spend less time on blind alleys, I can promise you—and when you have grown enough, you'll be Masters. Without more than a friendly hand to help. I don't think you'd really like it if we gave you everything, and so left you with nothing."
"A friendly hand—yes, Chugren." Dahano stood up. "That's all my people want." He felt his back straighten, and his head was up. "No more commands. No more Masters coming to give orders. No more working in fields which do not belong to anyone, doing what you do not wish to."
"I promise you that, Dahano."
"I believe you."
Chugren smiled. "On my world, friends clasp hands."
"They do the same here."
They stepped toward each other, their arms outstretched, and shook hands.
Chapter Three
It was three days later, again in the early morning, when Chugren returned to the village square. Dahano, waiting in his doorway, saw the surprise on the faces of the villagers waiting to go out to the fields. None of the Masters had ever come this often. As Chugren beckoned to him and Dahano moved forward, none of the villagers made a sound.
They might not know what was happening, Dahano thought, but they could feel it. Freedom had an excitement that needed no words to make itself known.
He stopped in front of Chugren and bowed. "I hear, Chugren," he said, a faint smile just touching the corners of his mouth too lightly for anyone but Chugren to see.
"Good," Chugren answered harshly. Only Dahano saw the twitch of his eyelids. "Now—it's almost time for the next planting. And this time you're going to do it right. You're wearing out the land, planting the same fields year after year. Furthermore, I want to see who the lazy and stupid ones among you are. I want every family in this village to take a plot of ground. I don't care where—take your pick—as long as it's fresh ground. The plot has to be large enough to support that family, and every family will be responsible for its work. It's not necessary to follow the old working hours, so long as the work's done. Nobody will work anyone else's plot. If a person dies, his plot goes to his oldest son. Is that clear?"
Dahano bowed deeply. "I hear, Chugren. It will be done."
"Good. See to it."
"I hear."
"If the plot is too far away from the person's house, I will give him a new house so he doesn't waste his time walking back and forth. I'll have no dawdling from you people. Is that clear?"
"I hear, Chugren." Dahano bowed again. "Thank you," he whispered without moving his lips. Chugren grunted, winked again, and went away. Dahano turned back toward his hut, careful not to show his joy.
They were free of the fields. In every village this morning, the Masters had come and given their particular village this freedom, and the days of getting up to go to work at the Masters' commands were over.
There was a puzzled murmur coming from the crowd of villagers. One or two persons stepped forward.
"Headman—what did he mean? Aren't we to go out this morning?"
"You heard what he said, Loron," Dahano answered quietly. "We're to pick out plots of our own, and he'll give us houses to go with them."
"But, Headman—the Masters have never done this before!" The villagers were clustering around Dahano now, the bewildered ones asking him to explain, the thoughtful ones exchanging glances that were slowly coming alight.
It was one of those—Carsi, who'd never bent his head as low as some of the others—who shouted impatiently: "Who cares what or why! We're through with herding together in these stables. We're through with plowing Chugren's fields, and you can stay here and talk but I'm going to find my land!"
Dahano stepped into his hut with a lighter heart than he ever remembered, while outside the villagers were hurrying toward their huts, a great many of them to pack up their bundles and set out at once. Then he heard Gulegath stop in the doorway and throw his bitterness in before him.
"I think it's a trick!"
Dahano shrugged and let it pass. In a few weeks, the youngster would see.
"I suppose you think it's all wonderful," Gulegath pressed on. "You forget all of his past history. You discard every fact but the last. You don't stop to see where the poison lies. You bite into the fruit you think he's handed you, and you say how good it tastes."
"Do you see what his trick is, Gulegath?" Dahano asked patiently.
&nbs
p; "If there's no trick," Gulegath answered, "then there's only one other explanation—he's afraid of us. Nothing else fits the evidence as I see it. He sees that his days are almost over, for some mysterious reason, and he's trying to buy his life. Somehow, that seems ridiculous to me."
"Perhaps," Dahano answered shortly. He didn't like Gulegath's gnawing at him like this. "But in the meantime, will you please go out and see where the new plots are, so I'll know where my village is?"
Grow older soon, Gulegath, Dahano thought. How much can my patience stand? How much longer will I have to watch you this closely? Grow wiser, or even these Masters might not let you.
He thought of telling Gulegath all of the truth. It might help. But he decided against it. If he told him, the youngster would surely react in some unsettling manner.
Chapter Four
Dahano sat in his doorway, looking out at the great empty spaces where the village huts had been, and beyond them at the old fields losing their shape under the rain that had been pounding them steadily for hours each day. That, too, was not by accident, he guessed.
He looked around. Here and there the old huts were still standing—or rather, new houses stood where families had decided to stay. Straight roads stretched out in the directions of the farms.
Dahano smiled to himself. This is freedom, he thought. New, large houses, each set apart. The cattle barn gone, and the herds divided. The granaries taken away, and each house with its own food store until the new farms can be harvested.
And that is the best freedom of all. We have houses, but we would sleep in the open. We have food, but we would go hungry. Chugren has given us our last new lengths of cloth, but we would go naked. For we have freedom—we have our land that no one can take from us, and we live without the Masters' laws.
It was true. They did. Even so soon, though Chugren and the other "Masters" still came and went among them, playing out their parts before they let go the reins entirely, already there were many people who had lost their fear of them. The old ways were coming back, even before the "Masters" withdrew. From everywhere, Gulegath and all of Dahano's other messengers brought him the same news. All the villages were spreading out, the homesteads dotting the green face of the plains, and there were persons plowing out new ground almost at the foot of the golden city that had always stood alone before. The villagers had remembered. The fields were planted and the wells were dug as their great-grandfathers had done, and the people drew their strength from the land.
In my lifetime, he thought. I see it in my lifetime, and when my soul goes to the Heaven People's world, I will be able to tell them we live as people ought to.
He raised his head and smiled as he saw Chugren step into the road in front of his house.
"Chugren."
"Good day, Headman." Chugren wiped his hand over his forehead, taking away perspiration. "I've had a busy day."
A clot of excitement surged through Dahano's brittle veins. He knew what Chugren was going to tell him.
"How so?"
Chugren smiled. "I don't suppose this'll be any great surprise. I went out and inspected all the homesteads from this village. All I have left to do are these few here, and that'll be that. I found fault in every case, was completely disgusted, and finally said that I had no use for lazy slaves like these. I said I was tired of trying to get useful work out of them, and from now on they'd have to fend for themselves—I wasn't going to bother with them any longer."
Dahano took a breath. "You did it," he whispered.
Chugren nodded. "I did it. It's done. Finished. You're free."
"And the same thing happened in all the other villages?"
"Every last one of them."
Dahano said nothing for a few moments. Finally, he murmured: "I never quite believed it until now. It's all over. The Masters are gone."
"For good."
Dahano shook his head, still touched by wonder, as a man can know for months that his wife will give him a child but still be amazed when it lies in his hands. "What are you going to do now?"
"Oh, we'll stay around for a while—see if we've missed anything."
"But you won't give orders?" Dahano asked quickly.
Chugren laughed gently. "No, Headman. No orders. Well just watch. Some of us will always be around, keeping an eye out. You'll never have any wars that come to much, and I don't think you'll have cloudbursts washing out your crops too often, but we'll never interfere directly."
Dahano had thought he was prepared for this day. But now he saw he was not. While there had been no hope, he had been patient. When things were growing better every day, he could live in confidence of tomorrow. But now he had what he longed for, and he was anxious for its safety.
"Remember—you gave your promise." He knew he sounded like a nervous old man. "Forgive me, Chugren—but you could take all this back in the time of a heartbeat. I . . . well, I'm glad none of my people know as much."
Chugren nodded. "I imagine there are times when a person would just as soon not know as much as he does." He looked directly into Dahano's eyes. "I gave my promise, Headman. I give it again. You're free. We've given our last command."
They reached out and shook hands.
"Thank you, Chugren."
"No one could have seen what the Masters were doing and let it go on. You don't owe me any special thanks. I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd seen slavery and not done my best to wipe it out."
They sat together silently in the doorway for a few moments.
"Well, I don't imagine we'll be seeing very much more of each other, Headman."
"I'm sorry about that."
"So am I. I have to go back to Terra and make my report on this pretty soon."
"Is it far?"
"Unbelievably far, even for us. Even with our boat's speed, it'll be months before I'm home. We sent the boat back with your old Masters, for example. It won't return for another ten days, though it started straight back. It may be a year before word comes of how well your old Masters are taking their re-education. Probably, I'll come back with it."
"I'm an old man, Chugren. I may not see you then."
"I know," Chugren said in a low voice. "We've never found a way to keep a person from wearing out. What're you going to do 'til then? Rest?"
Dahano shook his head. "A person rests forever when he joins the Heaven People. Meanwhile, my village needs its Headman. There are many things only a Headman can do."
"I suppose so." Chugren stood up. "I have to go finish up these last homesteads," he said regretfully. "Good-by, Headman."
"Good-by, my friend," Dahano answered.
Chapter Five
It was a week later. Dahano sat with the sun warming his body. His stomach was paining him to some extent—yesterday it had pained him less—and the sun felt good.
I'm old, he thought. An old man without too many sunny days left for him. But in these past days, I've been free.
It's good to be Headman where people live the way they ought to live; the way our fathers told us, the way their fathers told them, the way people never forgot in spite of everything the Masters did to us. It's good to know we'll live this way forever.
He shifted the length of cloth wrapped around his hips. It was good cloth Chugren'd given them. It ought to last a long time.
He looked up as he heard Gulegath come up to him.
"Headman."
"Yes, Gulegath?"
Gulegath was frowning. "Headman—Chugren's over at Carsi's house. He's giving Carsi's wife orders on how to live."
Dahano pushed himself to his feet, half-afraid and half-angry at Gulegath for making a mistake of some kind. "I want to see for myself." He walked in the direction of Carsi's house as quickly as he could, and Gulegath came after.
It was true. As he came to Carsi's house, he heard Chugren arguing with Terpet, the woman. Dahano's face and insides twisted. He was afraid and unwilling to think what this could be. He wondered what could have happened.
Fri
ghtened, he came quickly into the front room and saw Terpet standing terrified against one wall, clutching her small daughter and staring wide-eyed at Chugren as the Master stood in front of her, his face angry.
Dahano peered at Chugren, but it was still the different Chugren, not the old Master. Except that he was acting exactly the way the old Master used to. While Gulegath stayed warily in the doorway, Dahano moved forward.
Imperial Stars 3-The Crash of Empire Page 21