As he curled up, Slater heard a wild bulgote, the emblem of his new clan, bellow far off in the frozen dark. It seemed a good omen, and he wondered if he was developing a Rucker mentality. A strange fate for the descendant of Afghan chieftains. Or perhaps not strange at all. He fell asleep trying to resolve the question.
They lay low through the following day while a strong, damp wind carrying a promise of bad weather grew and moaned among the jumble of great boulders where they lay concealed.
Muller cocked an eye skyward. "This is going to be a wild night. I hope the boys come back with good news first. If not, we'll simply have to last it out somehow. Anyway, it's good training."
Despite Muller's carefree words, Slater saw that he was concerned. As the wind rose, Muller roamed the area, popping up and down like a jack-in-the-box. Eventually he found what he was seeking. With a wave of his hand he summoned the others to the lee of a vast, rounded stone. At its base grew three tough thornbushes, which Muller parted to display a dark opening about three feet high.
"Get in here. It gets a lot bigger inside. I've been inside and there's no danger I could detect. The storm that is coming is going to be a very bad one. Lang says so too, and he doesn't exaggerate."
Overhead the gray cloud rack raced past and the first drops of a freezing rain began to fall. With Muller last, they dove, one by one, into the hole at the rock's base.
After a few meters, the passage became roomy enough to stand up. When they flashed their torches around, they found they were in a chamber about twelve meters across by eighteen long. The roof was fairly lofty, rising to a peak in the center of the chamber of perhaps nine meters. The floor was stone, and boulders of various sizes lay scattered about. Some large openings gaped blankly in the light of the beams, back against the inner wall of the cavern. It was not too comforting a place to look at, but it seemed both warm and dry. The wind's shriek was only a distant whine deep under the rock.
Then Feng called to Muller. "What do you make of this?" His torch illumined a section of the wall near him, and the long, regular gouges in the dense rock were obvious to everyone.
"That's the mark of a pick, or something very like one," Muller said. "What do you say, Thau?"
"I don't know, but I have seen them in other places. This whole big rock is a hollow dome. It is a shelter, I think, maybe also an observation post. I have found them more than once in the past. I think it was a shelter against the great sandstorms of the old days, not the kind we have now … Ruckers never made it." His words hung in the silence, and they listened to the distant sound of the wind echoing through the entrance tunnel.
"Against the sandstorms, eh?" Nakamura did not sound so sarcastic, not the way he had back at the post. There were no more giant sandstorms on Mars. But before the Terraforming there had been no other kind. For countless ages, the thin dust of the surface, the limonite powder and the motley sands, had swirled high into the thin atmosphere, as the great winds of the seasonal gales had blasted and ground down the very skin of the fourth planet. No one said the words, but out here in the night of the Ruck, they were on everyone's mind. Old Martians.
"I don't much care for these tunnel openings behind us, whether unused for centuries—or never used," the colonel said. "Let's move some of those big rocks and block them. Then we can post a guard at the entrance and get some sleep."
Muller took the first watch and the others settled down to an uneasy sleep. Slater would have liked to sit with Danna for a while but he saw that she was deep in low-voiced talk with Thau Lang, so he curled up in his sleeping bag next to Nakamura, who was already snoring. The floor was hard, but it was the best rest stop they had yet had.
A light touch on his eyelids brought Slater awake on the instant. He sat up and saw the giant Norse-Japanese grinning down at him. Weak light filtered through the tunnel entrance so that he could see perfectly well. Feng's legs were disappearing through the hole as he sat up, so Slater hurried to catch up.
Once outside, he saw that the storm had been a bad one. Huge chunks of rock lay about, torn from their beds by the force of the terrible wind. The ground was sodden from the rain and sleet, and dense fog was rising from the many new pools of water. Trees, some of them very old, lay in fragments. The cold dawn air was fresh and clean, but few animals or birds called and not many insects.
"I'm worried about the two young men." Lang was uneasy, and his normal iron reserve was missing for once. "I have seldom heard of a night this angry. I trust that they were not caught without shelter." He gazed around him. "No one could live through this, save by the spirits." As he spoke, he made a peculiar gesture on his breast with his right arm.
As they looked about, Slater noticed that Danna was trying to hold back tears. He moved over to her and tried to put a hand on her arm. He was shocked to see two Ruckers in such a state of nerves.
"Danna, don't be too alarmed. They're competent men, both of them. We'll see them pretty soon, bouncing over the rocks." His words rang hollow, even in his own ears. She did not shrug off his hand, but she looked up at him and despair was on her face. Her cheeks looked sunken.
"They were all the family I have, Slater. I had no brothers and sisters. All I had was my two husbands. And now I think they are dead."
Chapter Eight – JayBee's Council
SLATER KEPT holding Danna's hand, but he stared over the curly head, his eyes blank and unseeing. Little was known of the Wise Women. Their duties, rank, and status in the web of rumor and myth assembled on Rucker society had not stressed any special attitudes or modes of sexual practice. Every bit of knowledge is useful, a small icy corner of his mind said, and should be assimilated and conveyed to the most logical and useful section of the Ares Command. The mind was repeating what the hypnotapes had emphasized. Everything learned about the Ruck was of the utmost value, and everything learned should be considered the property of the Central Computer Bank at Ares.
Including the fact that the woman he loved had two husbands already.
The mores of Earth in the Twenty-third Century were casual enough. You could find any sort of living arrangement you wanted. No one cared how others arranged their lives. But units of two people still made up the vast majority of those who chose to live together on a permanent basis. And he was in love! With a woman who had two husbands and yet apparently loved him in return!
Danna looked up at him and blinked through her tears. "You are very quiet, Slater. Do you have some idea, perhaps, of how we can find them?"
He cursed himself and returned to reality. He loved Danna and now she was in pain. He had no right to brood over her private living arrangements.
"I was thinking that maybe Colonel Muller and the konsel have some plan. This sort of situation can't be entirely new to them. Don't lose heart." He put all the confidence he could manage into the words, and he squeezed her hand in attempted reassurance.
"We'll have to move on the big encampment without them," said Muller, after he had conferred with the old Rucker chieftain. "They could be dead, could be lost, captured even. But we can't wait. I'm sorry, Danna. This is too important."
She nodded in silence.
The wreckage of the storm met them continually as they marched. The litter of the terrible wind had been laid indiscriminately over everything, and no clear path existed wherever it had been. Tangled, broken rock and pieces of thorn tree and cactus scrub were everywhere, and the party was forced to scramble slowly over the debris, no matter which way they turned. As the sun rose, sweat beaded their faces. Muller allowed little rest and drove them relentlessly until dark made the journey too hazardous even for him. They spent a bad, silent night, exhausted but unable to sleep. The next day was little better. Danna and the colonel conferred frequently with Thau Lang. The way had been lost, and they were now behind schedule.
At the start of his watch that night, Slater was pacing to and fro, when he heard a sound. Signs of animals had been few in the broken land they were traversing, as if the implacable gale
had destroyed them or driven them away. Even the insects were subdued. Now he heard something that sounded like the faraway hum of a giant bee.
He refrained from jumping as Muller, who should have been lying quietly asleep in his robe, spoke from beside him.
"That's a ramjet. Not one of ours either. The hum is too high pitched." The noise died away in the frosty night and was heard no more. Muller left, his thoughts his own, and curled up once more. For the rest of the night nothing was heard but the occasional cry of a faraway animal.
About one hour before noon the next morning, they emerged suddenly from a wadi choked with broken stones and found a broad, well-beaten trail before them. Thau Lang, who had been leading, motioned them all back and they retreated out of sight of anyone who might pass.
"This is the main trail to the new camp," the old man hissed. "I was far off the track, and we are coming to the camp from the wrong direction. We must be very close to the camp for the trail to be so plain. We were lucky not to be seen before this. We must plan what to do next."
They had rehearsed their parts so many times they were sick of them. But the remorseless Muller put them all through a brief check once more before he allowed them to proceed. Apparently the unrelenting practice had paid off; satisfied at last, Muller motioned to Thau Lang and they set off down the trail.
They had hardly gone two kilometers when they were challenged. A shrill whistle sounded from a low mound of scrub and boulders on their left. They were expecting this and halted, holding their weapons high in the air, in a position from which it would be almost impossible to fire.
Thau Lang, who had been in the lead, called out a long sentence, of which Slater could understand only the konsel's name, and then waited. Two whistles replied, and with no more hesitation, Lang dropped his arms, as did the others. They had never seen their challengers. That the wrong answer would have brought something besides whistles, they all knew well.
In a short time Slater could hear the sounds of the big camp. In territory they considered beyond the reach of the hated government, the Ruckers were not so cautious about noise though just as vigilant in other ways.
They rounded another bend in the trail and the entrance to the camp lay before them.
A shallow declivity led down to a large pool of water at the bottom of a long slope, whose actual length was masked by the gentleness of the grade. The far side of the long pool was overhung by the lip of a great gray, beetling rock, which thus created a vast shallow cave almost five hundred meters wide. It led so far back into darkness that the lights of fires were visible as flares deep in the black inner recesses. As a hideaway to avoid aerial observation, it was hard to beat.
Hundreds of shelters pitched outside were exposed to the air, domes fashioned of the universally available plastic cloth, the cheapest and most widely exploited material human science had produced. Each was stained in mottled browns, grays, and greens. Hordes of children ran and played before the entrances to the shelters, which stretched out of sight into the cave. Only their quiet voices, unbroken by any loud yells, betrayed the fact that the Ruck's training was a savage one that began early. Around and with them romped many large dogs, partially domesticated Marswolves. These made no sound at all and not by choice. Rucker dogs had their vocal cords removed during puppyhood. They were the guards of the children, the home, and the domestic stock. Hunters on Mars moved with stealth and very few dogs are as quiet as a well-trained man.
The women were much in evidence also. Older ones chatted as they went about various tasks, younger girls in tight breeches or short skirts strolled about in groups, eyeing equally casual groups of young men, whose wanderings seemed somehow to bring them near. Off to one side, herds of domesticated bulgotes, the descendants of the original dwarf stock, grazed and browsed in hulking flocks. Some weighed 450 kilos, and the big bucks stood over two meters at the shoulder. Children and dogs watched the flocks, keeping the leaders from fighting. Mostly light gray, with a black stripe running down the spine, the herd beasts were hardly less savage than their wild congeners. But Slater knew that they were clever and adaptable. Experiments at Ares Base were aimed at producing a strain that could be used as draft and riding animals.
Thau Lang halted suddenly and gave a long, echoing call. Then he sat down and folded his arms. The others followed suit. The Ruckers nearest them paid no attention, but in a short time a group of men walked around the nearest cluster of domed tents and advanced upon them. As the strangers approached, Lang rose to his feet, but the others stayed seated.
The Ruckers were eight elderly men, in ordinary leather suits, the assembled konsels of the five clans that were meeting there. They had come to greet their equal. They looked calm and dignified, and bore no weapons except for belt knives and holstered lasguns, the Ruck equivalent of going unarmed. It was obvious that someone had forewarned the camp, for they had been waiting close by.
Each one stepped forward in turn and embraced Thau Lang, muttering words in his ear as they did, words of secret greeting that none else must hear. When all had done so, Lang turned and, in a courteous gesture, lifted Danna to her feet. Each greeted her the same way, acting as if he had never seen her before, though one at least must be the konsel of her own tribe.
Then Lang waved a hand over the others of his party and said a few words. The other elders nodded, in apparent disinterest. But Slater was conscious of their examination and wondered if his disguise was holding. One did not become a konsel by taking things for granted. Finally Lang turned and beckoned to them to follow him. Only then did Muller rise, the others copying him, and set off in the wake of the older men.
Half an hour later they were in a large empty tent, under a shadowed angle of the cliff but not too far from the edge of the pool. After seeing Lang's party to it, the elders had bade the konsel a dignified and affectionate farewell. Once the elders left, it was possible for them to speak Unit, but Muller persuaded Lang that he or Danna should walk about outside occasionally, just in case.
"I agree that we should take no chances, old friend," Lang said. "But I think you will find that a konsel's tent will be given a wide berth. And too, we have a Wise Woman. These are not matters that the True People care to interfere with."
"You forget things." Muller was unusually curt. "We have the so-called new clan from the South, plus whoever they have suborned among your people. Have you forgotten the assassin? Konsels are not subject to casual assassination, remember? And now there's JayBee. Who knows what his contacts are? Please, don't make things harder."
The tent was furnished with cushions and skin rugs. Hooks had been provided for hanging utensils and weapons, and the rest of the surroundings, too, were those of almost any nomad culture. Slater ransacked his memory for tales of the tribal, anti-Russian raids of his ancestors that had been related by an ancient grandmother from near Giltraza when he was a child. He felt a thrill at the realization that he was reliving the past of his own people, on another world.
Danna left them without a word and Lang said nothing. Slater guessed she had gone to inquire after her husbands. She returned, quietly and suddenly, while they were eating a simple meal cooked over a small charcoal brazier. She slipped through the flap like a small ghost.
"I've seen Milla! He was not with the people from the South. They've left already. These are others. And they have Terrans with them, Terrans with guns! They are to speak to the people tonight. Milla signed me not to speak to him. But there are plenty of my people here. They'll be sure to notice if he and I ignore each other. Oh, what shall we do?"
I imagine there will be certain folk who will notice if a wife ignores her husband. Even if she has a spare or two missing somewhere about. As the thought crossed his mind, driven by undiluted jealousy, Slater tried to bury it. He simply could not let his emotions disrupt their mission!
Muller caught the key part of the girl's speech at once. "Terrans allowed to have guns! That has to mean JayBee. No one else would be permitted here armed. H
e must have cultivated closer contacts with the tribes than we suspected. Did you see or hear of Lieutenant Dutt?"
"No."
"A small mercy. Then they have no way of learning about us. I was planning to leave as soon as we found out when and in what direction the giants had gone. Now we better stay at least until tonight and try to find out what JayBee is up to."
"Should I go with you to this shindig? It might look odd." Nakamura was quite conscious of his role as a giant from the South. They had all noticed the looks that he drew from the konsels and every other Rucker who crossed their path.
"Good point, Nakamura. You stay in the tent. Your clan is so mysterious that nothing you do would be considered odd."
As darkness fell and the cold grew, the fires were allowed to die out and they made ready to depart. On Muller's advice, Thau Lang had got a good supply of travel rations laid in from the local intertribal council, a group that seemed to control the actual daily workings of the big camp. Whatever a konsel wanted was brought at once. They carried all their weapons and gear with them so they could leave as soon as the public business was over, under cover of darkness.
Muller's party followed Danna and the old konsel into the crowd of Ruckers streaming into the great cave. Even as the lights near the entrance were guttering and going out, more were springing up far ahead. A line of torches appeared in the distance, and looking back for a moment, Slater saw that the paler hint of the evening sky was quite far behind them. The cave was enormous! He wondered what Milla was doing and how he had been able to mix with JayBee's renegades. And where was Arta Burg?
When a small hand slipped into his, Slater flinched momentarily. Then he realized that Danna had taken advantage of the dark to reassure him and let him know of her presence. He squeezed back, wondering if he was ever going to get out of the mad business.
Menace Under Marswood Page 9