by John Norman
The animal was silken. Its eyes blazed. It was mottled, and tawny. It opened its mouth and hissed again. I saw it had three rows of needlelike teeth. It had only four legs, unlike the small animal I had seen earlier. Two hornlike tusks protruded from its jaw. Another two hornlike projections emerged from its head, just over its black, gleaming, wicked eyes.
I was wild with hunger. I opened a cabinet. It was empty, save for some cups.
I screamed and began to throw the cups, which were metal, at the animal, hysterically.
It snarled and, the cups banging behind it on the metal of the wall, darted past me. Its silken body struck my leg as it ran from the galley. It had a long, whipping, hairless tail.
I shut the door of the galley, crying.
I opened all the cabinets, all the drawers and boxes. Everything edible, it seemed, had been taken. I would have to starve!
Then I sat down on the floor of the steel galley and wept. When I had cried, I went to the flat, metal container, that sprung open and exposed, that from which the ugly, terrible, silken animal had been feeding.
Choking, almost vomiting, I fed myself.
It was meat. It was thick, grainy, something like beef, but it was not beef.
With my hand and fingers I scratched and scraped every particle of food from the container. There was not enough. I devoured it. I sucked even my fingers, for every last bit of juice.
I stood up, refreshed and stronger. I looked about, dismally. In my search for food I had found some utensils, but no knives, nothing to use as a weapon.
Then it seemed to me that I had remained too long at the ship. I had not found bodies, though I had found, in one place, on a cot, a stain of blood. If there had been survivors, they might return. I became frightened. I had forgotten everything in my search for food, and my eating.
I opened the galley door.
I heard a bird twittering.
It was a small bird, about the size of a sparrow, but it looked a bit like a tiny owl, with tufts over its eyes. It was purplish. It looked at me quizzically. It was perched on some split piping.
It looked at me for a moment, and then, with a flurry of wings, darted out of the ship.
I, too, fled the ship.
Outside, everything seemed calm. I stopped. The dark forest was behind the ship, in the distance. The fields extended to the right. Somewhat more to the left, in the distance, in the fields was the yellowish thicket I had seen earlier. The sun's position had altered, and the shadows were longer. I judged it to be in the afternoon, on this world. It was not cold. If this world had seasons, as I supposed it must, I would have guessed it was in the spring of their year. I wondered how long the year might be.
Outside, looking about more closely, I found some trampled grass, as though things had been placed there, perhaps earlier in the morning, boxes and such. In one place I found some strands of woman's hair. In another, there was a dark, reddish-brown stain on the grass.
I must get away!
I turned toward the forest, but its darkness frightened me.
Suddenly, from it, through the clear air, from far off, there drifted a roar, as of some large animal.
I turned away from the forest and began to run across the field, blindly toward the horizon, over the grass.
I had not run far when I stopped, for, in the sky, in the distance, I saw a swift, silverish, disklike object. It was moving rapidly and in my direction. I threw myself down in the grass. I covered my head with my hands.
In moments nothing had happened. I lifted my head.
The silverish disk had now landed near the rent, half-buried black ship.
The black ship itself glowed redly, but, in a few seconds, the glow faded.
Then hatches opened on the silverish ship and men leaped out. They carried silverish tubes, or wands, of some sort, perhaps weapons. They, like the men of the black ship, wore tunics but these were of some shimmering, purplish material. Their heads were shaved. Some of the men deployed themselves about the ship; others, carrying their weapons, entered.
Then, to my horror, a large, golden creature, six-legged, supporting itself on its four long back legs, almost upright, stepped from the ship. It had large eyes and, I thought, antennae. It moved swiftly, delicately, almost daintily toward the ship and, bending down, disappeared inside. Some of the men followed it in.
In perhaps less than a minute the creature, and the men, emerged from the ship; they, together with their fellows, then swiftly re-entered the silverish ship. The hatches slid shut and the ship, almost simultaneously, lifted itself, silently, some hundred feet from the grass. Then it moved above the wreck of the black ship. There was a sudden, bluish flash, and a blast of almost incandescent heat. I put my head down. When I raised my head the silverish, disklike ship was gone. And so, too, was the wreck of the black ship. When I dared I went back to the site of the wreck. The depression in which it had lain, and the earth around, for some tens of feet, was scorched. But I could find nothing of the ship, not a bolt or a bit of quartz, not a thread of metal or a scrap of wire.
From the distant forest I heard again the roar of some great animal.
Once more I turned and fled.
When I came to the small stream, at which I had drunk earlier, I waded.
The water was waist deep.
Something struck, stinging at my ankle. I screamed and splashed across.
Then I was running again.
I must have run, and walked, and stumbled on for hours.
Once I stopped to rest. I lay, panting on the grass. My eyes were closed. I heard a rustle. I turned my head and opened my eyes. I watched it in terror. It was vinelike, and tendriled, leaved. A blind, split, podlike head was moving toward me, lifting itself slightly from the ground, moving from side to side. Inside the pod I could see, fastened in the upper surface, two long, curved, thornlike fangs. I screamed, leaping to my feet. The thing suddenly struck at me. It tore through the fabric of the slacks on my right leg. I pulled my leg away, tearing away the cloth. It struck again and again, as though sensing me by smell or heat, but it was rooted, and I was beyond its reach. I threw back my head, my hands to the sides of my head, and screamed. I heard another rustle, near me. I looked about, wildly. I saw another such plant, and then two others, too. And then another. Sweating, picking my way, I fled from the area. Then I was into the open grass again.
I continued running, and walking, for hours. At last it grew cool, and dark.
I could go no further.
I dropped to the grass.
It was a dark, beautiful, windy night. There were some white clouds scudding across the sky. I looked up at the stars. Never before had I seen stars look so beautiful, so bright and burning in the blackness of the night. "How beautiful is this world," I said to myself, "how beautiful!" I lay on my back and looked up at the stars, and the moons.
There were three moons.
I slept.
6
I Encounter Targo, Who is a Slaver
I awoke in the morning, near dawn. It was very cold, and gray and damp. I was terribly hungry. My body was stiff, and ached. I wept. I sucked dew from the long grass. I was alone. My clothes were wet. I was miserable. I was alone. I was alone. I was frightened. I was hungry. I wept.
As far as I knew I might be the only individual on this world. The ship had crashed here, but this may not have been its world. The other ship had come, to destroy the first, but this might not be its world either. And I had seen no survivors of the crash. And the other ship had departed. As far as I knew I might be the only living human being on this world.
I stood up.
Around me, soft, undulating, glistening with dew in the dim light, I could see nothing but grassy fields, seemingly endless fields, rolling and rolling, sweeping away from me on all sides toward horizons that might be empty.
I was lonely.
I walked on in the midst of the fields.
I heard the song of a bird, fresh in the morning. Near me, startling me, there was a
tiny movement in the grass and a small, furry creature, with two large gnawing teeth, skittered past.
I continued on.
I would surely starve. There was nothing to eat. I cried.
Once, looking up, I saw a flight of large, white, broad-winged birds. They seemed lonely, too, high in the gray sky. I wondered if they, too, were hungry.
I trudged on.
I could not understand what had happened. There had been so much, that was so different. I remembered awakening on the August morning, showering. I remembered the men, my attempts to escape, my flight through the woods on Earth, the ship, the thick, transparent cylinder, or tube, of some sort of plastic, I supposed, in which I had been placed.
I remembered awakening again, in the grass, and then discovering the wreck of the black ship. And I remembered the second ship, the silverish one, that it had destroyed the first, and I remembered fleeing.
Now I was alone.
Elinor Brinton was alone, wandering across the fields of what world she even knew not.
I continued on.
About two hours, I would guess, after dawn, I came to a rock outcropping. Here, among the rocks, I found a tiny pool of rain water. I drank.
Nearby, to my delight, I found some berries to eat. They were good, and this filled me with some confidence.
The sun had now begun to climb in the sky and the air turned warmer. It showered once or twice but I did not much mind. The air was bright and clear, the grass green, the sky a full blue with bright, white clouds.
When the sun was overhead I found some more berries and, this time, I ate my fill. Not far away, in another outcropping of rock, I found another pool of trapped rain water. It was a large pool, and I drank as much as I wanted. And I washed my face.
Then I continued on.
I was not as frightened now, nor as displeased. It seemed to me not impossible that I might be able to live on this world.
It was beautiful.
I ran for a little way, my hair flying behind me, laughing, and jumped and turned in the air, and laughed again. There was no one to see. I had not done that since I had been a little girl.
Then I stepped warily, for I saw, to one side, a patch of the dark, tendriled vinelike plants. I stood to one side and, fascinated, watched them rustle, sensing my presence. Several of the fanged seedpods lifted, like heads, sensing me, moving back and forth gently.
But I was no longer much afraid of them. I now knew their danger.
I continued on.
I saw no animals.
Here and there I found more berries, and, from time to time, more outcroppings of rock in which, almost invariably, I found water, doubtless trapped from recent rains.
But I was very lonely.
About the middle of the afternoon I sat down in the grass, in a gentle, sloping valley between two of the grassy hills.
I wondered what chance I might have of being rescued.
I smiled. I knew that this world was not mine. The ship that had brought me here, I knew, even with my limited knowledge of such matters, was far beyond the present capabilities of any of the civilizations of Earth. And yet the men who had captured me were surely human, or seemed so, as did those who manned the ship. Even those who had come from the silverish ship, with the exception of the tall, delicate golden creature, had seemed to be human, or much like humans.
But the black ship had crashed. And the silverish ship had departed, perhaps for another world.
But I wanted to be rescued! I would be rescued! I must be rescued!
But I was not particularly frightened.
I could live on this world.
But I was lonely.
There is nothing to be frightened of, I told myself. There is food here, and water. I had found berries, and there were doubtless other things to eat, fruits and nuts.
I laughed, so pleased I was.
Then I cried, for I was so lonely. I was all alone.
Then, startled, I lifted my head. Drifting through the air, unmistakable, though coming from some distance, was the sound of a shout, a human voice.
I leaped wildly to my feet and ran, stumbling up the hill. I came to its crest and looked about, wildly, about and down, and then I cried out, and waved, and began to run down the side of the hill, stumbling and shouting and waving my arms. There were tears of joy in my eyes. "Stop!" I shouted. "Stop!"
They were humans! I would be rescued! They would have food and shelter, and water! I was saved! I would be safe! Safe!
"Stop!" I shouted. "Stop!"
There was a single wagon. About it were some seven or eight men. There were no animals at the wagon. At the front of it, standing on the grass, were some fifteen or twenty girls, unclothed. They seemed immeshed in the harness. Two men stood near them. The wagon itself seemed damaged, partly stained with black. Its cover, of blue and yellow silk, was torn. Near the front of the wagon, too, was a short, fat man, clad in a robe of broadly striped blue and yellow silk. Startled, they turned to face me.
I ran down the hill, stumbling and laughing, toward them.
Two of the men ran forward to meet me. Another two, flanking these, began to run toward the top of the hill. They passed me.
"I'm Elinor Brinton," I told the men who had come to meet me. "I live in New York City. I'm lost."
One of the men, with two hands, seized my left wrist. The other man, with two hands, seized my right wrist. They swiftly led me, pulling me, not gently, down the hill between them, toward the group at the wagon.
In a moment, they still holding me, I stood at the side of the wagon.
The small, fat, short man, he, plump and paunchy in the robe of broadly striped blue and yellow silk, scarcely looked at me. He was more anxiously regarding the top of the hill, where his two men had gone. Crouching down, they were looking about, over the hill. Two others of his men had left the wagon and were looking about, some hundred yards or so, on other sides. The girls near the front of the wagon, immeshed in the harness, seemed apprehensive. The fat man wore earrings, sapphires pendant on golden stalks. His hair, long and black, did not seem well cared for. It was dirty, not well combed. It was tied behind his head with a band of blue and yellow silk. He wore purple sandals, the straps of which were set with pearls. The sandals were now covered with dust. Some of the pearls were missing. On his small, fat hands, there were several rings. His hands, and nails, were dirty. I sensed that he might be, in his personal habits, rather fastidious. But, now, surely he did not seem so. Rather he seemed haggard, apprehensive. One of the men, a grizzled fellow, with one eye, came back from searching the fields some hundred yards or so from the wagon. I gathered he had found nothing. He called the fat, pudgy little man "Targo."
Targo looked up to the top of the hill. One of the men there, standing a bit below its crest, waved to him, and shrugged, lifting his arms in the air. He had seen nothing.
Targo drew a deep breath. Visibly he relaxed.
He then regarded me.
I smiled my prettiest smile. "Thank you," I said, "for rescuing me. My name is Elinor Brinton. I live in New York City, which is a city on the planet Earth. I wish to return there, immediately. I'm rich, and I assure you that if you take me there, you will be well rewarded."
Targo regarded me, puzzled.
But he must understand English!
Another man came back, I suppose to report that he had found nothing. Targo sent him back, perhaps to stand watch. One of the men he then recalled from the top of the hill. The other remained there, also, I suppose, to watch.
I repeated, somewhat irritably, but with some patience, what I had said before. I spoke clearly, slowly, that I might be easier to understand.
I wished the two men would release my wrists.
I was going to speak further to him, to attempt to explain my predicament and my desires, but he said something abruptly, irritably.
I flushed with anger.
He did not wish to hear me speak.
I pulled at my wrists, but
the two men would not release me.
Then Targo began to speak to me. But I could understand nothing. He spoke sharply, as one might speak to a servant. This irritated me.
"I do not understand you," I told him, icily.
Targo then seemed to reconsider his impatience. My tone of voice had seemed to startle him. He looked at me, carefully. It seemed he suspected he had been wrong in some way about me. He now came closer to me. His voice was oily, ingratiating. It amused me that I had won this small victory. He seemed kinder now, honeyed.
He would treat Elinor Brinton properly!
But I still, of course, could not understand him.
There seemed something, however, that was familiar about his speech. I could not identify what it was.
He seemed to refuse to believe that I could not understand him.
He continued to speak, finally very slowly, word by word, very clearly. His efforts, of course, were not rewarded in the least, for I could understand not even a word of what he had said. This seemed, for some reason, to irritate him. I, too, began to grow irritated. It was as though he expected anyone to be able to understand his strange language, whether it was their native language or not. How simple and provincial he was.
It was not even English.
He continued to try to communicate with me, but to no avail.
At one point he turned to one of his men and seemed to ask him a question. The fellow replied with a single word, apparently of negation.
Suddenly I was startled. I had heard that word before. When the small man, in my penthouse, when I had lain bound on my bed, had touched me, the large man, abruptly, angrily, had said that word to him. The smaller man had then turned away.
It struck me then what was familiar about the language Targo spoke. I had heard only a word or two of it before. My captors had conversed, almost entirely, in English. And I supposed they had been, at least on the whole, native speakers of English. But I recalled the accent of the large man, who had commanded them. In English, that accent had marked his speech as foreign. Here, however, a world away, I heard the same accent, or one similar, save that here it was not an accent. Here it was the natural sound, the rhythm and inflection, of what was apparently an independent, doubtless sophisticated, native tongue. I was frightened. The language, though it struck my ear as strange, was not unpleasant. It was rather strong, but in its way it seemed supple and beautiful. I was frightened, but I was also encouraged. Targo noted the difference in my attitude, and he redoubled his efforts to communicate with me. But, of course, I still could not understand.