The Golden Enemy

by Alexander Key

  For a moment he thought it was pain that he sensed. Then, with a little shock, he realized it was thirst.

  The Golden One lay motionless in the shadow of the ravine wall, the arrow still protruding from high on the left shoulder. The great beast’s eyes were closed. If breath remained in the mighty body, Boy Jaim could not have detected it from outward signs. It was only by that silent and almost mindless craving for water that he knew his enemy still lived.

  For a moment, as he stepped cautiously from the sled, he wondered if this could be another trap. Then, a dozen yards away in the shadow, he saw the deep pool of rainwater, with no tracks leading to it. The truth was evident. Water had drawn the creature here, but it had collapsed before the pool could be reached. Now the great bear was dying.

  Boy Jaim snatched up the bucket he had brought, and ran and poured its contents into the Golden One’s partially open mouth. Retreating, he stood tense, waiting. Seconds passed. The bear did not move.

  Abruptly his attention went to the arrow. Had all the poison been dissolved from the point? What would happen if he pulled the thing out?

  Again he ran forward, seized the arrow and quickly withdrew it, and flung it away. Black liquid oozed from the bear’s shoulder. He caught up the bucket, raced to the pool and filled it, and poured water over the wound. Cleansed, the wound almost magically began to close and heal.

  He brought more water, let some of it drip into the monstrous mouth, then left the bucket beside it on the sand and hastened back to the sled. With the strung bow in his hand and one of the remaining black-tipped arrows on the string, he stood grimly watching his enemy.

  A tremor shook the great golden body. At last, very slowly, the creature’s head came up and turned to the bucket. When the water was gone, Boy Jaim brought more, and still more, until the terrible thirst was quenched.

  Now from the Golden One, weakly, came the first directed thought. “Why … spare me now … Boy Jaim?”

  Muscles knotted in Boy Jaim’s jaws. “If you feel any gratitude for being spared, you can easily repay me.”

  The beast’s eyes flickered open, then closed. “You … still wish to know … the thing that will happen?…”

  “Yes!”

  “You honestly think … your people … are worth it?”

  “Of course they’re worth it!” Boy Jaim cried. “What right have you to decide such a matter as life and death?”

  Something like a sigh came from the Golden One’s throat. “No more right than man … but man has always taken that right. Don’t you realize … that you belong to a race of destroyers? The most terrible … and uncaring … destroyers this planet has ever known?”

  “I don’t believe it!”

  “It is the truth.”

  Boy Jaim trembled with sudden anger. “I didn’t follow you here to listen to your crazy ideas about people! I came to save them! What’s going to happen?” He raised the bow and drew back on the arrow. “Tell me!” he cried. “Tell me—or by the stars above, I’ll make you burn with another dose of poison—and this time you’ll die!”

  “Then … you had better kill me,” the creature replied. “If all men were like you … they might be worth saving. But they are not … So it is better that they perish …”

  Slowly the great head raised. The black eyes opened. “Shoot, Boy Jaim!”

  Boy Jaim stared desperately at his enemy. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but for the moment he could not. He trembled. Suddenly, in angry frustration, he flung his bow aside. Tears came to his eyes.

  All at once he cried out, “What—what in the name of God has man ever done to you?”

  “He destroyed all of my kind, Boy Jaim.”

  “That can’t be true! Unless—unless it was for self-protection. Anyhow, it’s been hundreds of years since people were last forced … but you couldn’t possibly be old enough to remember—”

  “I am older than you think, Boy Jaim. And my memory goes back before my time. Long before. It is not pleasant to remember so much—especially when one is alone. It was not for self-protection that man killed my kind. He did it for sport.”

  “You—you’re wrong! You’re bound to be. No one ever took life for the fun of it. For food, maybe, or to save himself—I know early man ate flesh, but that was ages ago. You can’t tell me—”

  “Look at me, Boy Jaim.”

  Against his will, Boy Jaim found himself staring into the Golden One’s cold ebony eyes. The great beast was stronger now, and there was power in the thought that commanded him: Gaze into the past. Remember what you see.

  Suddenly everything around him vanished. Instead of being in a ravine in the Barrens, he stood on the edge of a wooded hill with a great house in the background. Before him men and women with guns were shooting at birds being frightened past by servants in the meadows below. To one side was a great pile of dead birds. They were not being shot for food, for other servants were arranging huge platters of food on tables under the trees.

  For a moment of shock Boy Jaim could not believe the evidence of his eyes. But he could hear the sharp booming of the guns, the gay talk of the shooters, and smell the rich odors of the food. In rising horror he cried out against the sight.

  Instantly the scene changed. In swift succession he saw the slaughter of countless grazing creatures, of great animals unknown to him, and of proud and beautiful beasts that no man would ever see again. Not for food were they hunted. They went down in red pain for the glory of the hunter, who kept only their spotted skins, or their horns, or their trophy heads. The last to die were two huge bears, who fought man to the final breath to save a golden cub. The cub escaped, to wander forever alone …

  “Stop it!” Boy Jaim screamed, putting his hands over his eyes. “Stop it! I’ve seen enough!”

  Abruptly he was in the Barrens again, in the ravine facing the Golden One. Gasping, sick at heart, he fell back against the rocky wall and stared at his enemy.

  “What—what kind of trick was that?” he managed to say hoarsely.

  The great beast was much stronger. The huge head was higher, and the black eyes were watching him intently. “It was no trick, Boy Jaim. You saw a little of what really happened, exactly as it happened. Surely you’ve heard of the Pool of Knowledge?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Then you know that nothing is lost, ever. What you saw was there in the past. I merely helped you to see it.”

  Boy Jaim swallowed. “And the future—it is also there, and you can see it as clearly?”

  “I can see it—but it is never as clear, for it has not yet happened. Often the details are obscure. You are one of the details, Boy Jaim, that has given me trouble.”

  “I—I don’t understand.”

  “Our fight is not finished,” the great beast told him warningly, as muscles rippled under the golden hide. “We are only at a stalemate. If you are wise, you will kill me now while you still have the chance. Soon I will be as strong as ever.”

  Boy Jaim retreated. Grimly he caught up his bow again. “If only you hadn’t killed poor Doubtful …”

  “I am truly sorry about your dog. Truly. I had no intention of hurting it.”

  “I see. You intended only to get rid of me.”

  “Of course, Boy Jaim.”

  “But why?” he cried. “Why?”

  “Because of what you are. You are not like the others of your kind. If I had killed you, it is almost certain that the race of man would soon be ended—and that other creatures would finally have a chance. But now—who knows? So long as you are alive, I cannot see the end.”

  Boy Jaim looked at the monster in astonishment. “You—you mean you were afraid I might be able to see into the Pool of Knowledge and warn people in time to save them?”

  “There was that possibility.”

  “But I can’t!” he said bitterly. “I haven’t learned how. All I know is that the thing—whatever it is—is almost on us.”

  Abruptly he raised the bow. “But you know!�
�� he cried in a shaking voice. “You murderous scheming devil, you’ve tricked me and killed my dog and done everything you could to destroy my people. What’s going to happen? Tell me! Tell me fast—or I’ll drive every arrow I’ve got into you, and you’ll burn and burn inside, and burn again—”

  “Shoot! I wish you would.” The obsidian eyes glittered. “You did me no favor when you gave me water and saved my life. I have lived far too long. And all alone. You do not know what it is to be forever alone, for years without end … and wander the empty islands, and the wastes of the world …”

  Boy Jaim stood trembling, momentarily speechless. In the terrible urgency of the moment he had entirely forgotten the heat. How do you tear information from a creature so obdurate, so fearless of death, so immune to threat?

  “Oh, please!” he begged desperately. “Please help me! How can you condemn people for what they did so long ago? It’s not right! They’ve changed. Can’t you see that?”

  “Changed? Nonsense! Don’t you know that they’ve always done something no other creature has ever been guilty of—and that the evil is still in them?”

  “W-what’s that?”

  “For time out of mind they’ve slaughtered their own kind—and in numbers beyond count.”

  “No!”

  “Yes. It happened right here in the Barrens. Your ancestors killed their own kind, by the millions. Worse, they upset a balance and entirely destroyed the world that used to be.”

  “No! No! Impossible! They couldn’t—”

  “Look at me.”

  Once more, against his will, a power gripped his mind and commanded: Gaze again into the past.

  In a flash the ravine vanished. Boy Jaim was thunderstruck to find himself in the midst of a nightmare more horrible than anything he had ever been able to imagine. He was in a monstrous city during its final hours.

  Madness and fear and fury were everywhere. Hordes of people trampled each other, fighting to get underground. There was the scream of sirens, the roar of motors that jammed the tangled ribbons of streets, and in the blackening skies a constant thunder while little ships darted like frightened fish. Then abruptly sky and earth were rent by titanic forces. The mounting bedlam turned to a shuddering silence while the city’s steel and stone dripped down like melted candlewax …

  Boy Jaim was unable even to cry out. He fell trembling as he felt the long-past shifting of the planet on its axis. Then followed the sting of poisonous mists, the rush of great winds, the bite of unbelievable heat and cold, and the pounding of mighty waters as the seas rushed over the land. Time swirled around him with its gnawing centuries. Finally, there was only the quiet of sea sand and rubble about him, but still he saw the horror he had witnessed. He clawed to his feet and ran.

  He ran blindly through the growing heat, fleeing an ever-present past that refused to leave him. Rubble tripped him and he went sliding over scorching sand. It seared him and drove him up and on. When he fell again he was in the comparative coolness of shadow. Just ahead was a puddle of rainwater in the hollow of a rock. He crawled to it, gasping, and buried his face in it.

  The earth still seemed to be shaking under him, but it was some time before his vision partially cleared and he was able to separate past and present. He looked around.

  He was in the upper part of the ravine where it sloped into the Barrens. Through the shimmering heat he could see the great bear silhouetted at a curve behind him. The monster was on its feet now, apparently fully recovered. He saw it start swiftly toward him, then suddenly stop as the earth shook again and rubble fell into the ravine.

  The predicted earthquakes had come.

  Suddenly he was aware that a frightened L’Mara was calling, and had been trying to get his attention for some time.

  “Boy Jaim! Boy Jaim!” she was saying frantically. “Where are you? Please answer me!”

  “I—I’m in the Barrens,” he managed to say dazedly. “I’m all right—but you—Is the ground shaking? …”

  “Yes, but we’ve all gone outside to be safe. It’s horribly hot, so mother and I and all the neighbors have gone into that little lake below the house. It’s fairly cool under the trees here, and it’s about the safest place around …” Then suddenly, anxiously. “Boy Jaim! What’s wrong? You’re in danger—I can feel it!”

  It came to him at that moment that her danger was greater than his, and that everyone at home should get back inside as quickly as possible. But he was still dazed from the terrors the Golden One had thrust upon him, and it was hard to pull his thoughts together. The bear, he saw, was coming toward him again. There was deadly purpose in the creature’s movements.

  Boy Jaim groped for his bow, then in despair realized he must have dropped it during his flight. He scrambled to his feet and ran.

  “L’Mara!” he called, as he raced over the trembling sand. “Get back in the house! Hurry! Send an emergency call for everyone to do the same.”

  “But—but the quakes—the ground’s still shaking—”

  “The houses can take it—especially the older ones. They were built for tempests we’ve forgotten. Get back inside—tell everyone to take all their blankets to the lower levels. They must go as far back in the ground as they can, and keep every door closed …”

  For long seconds the connection between them was broken, and he knew she must be having trouble urging the others away from the imagined safety of the cooling lake. Then she called in fright, “When is it coming? How much time—”

  “You—you have only minutes,” he gasped, with a quick backward look at the bear. “It’ll be from the east—you’ll feel it first. A wind—”

  Until this instant he hadn’t known what it was, but now in his desperation the tormenting visions of the past cleared away, and he saw in a flash what lay ahead.

  “We’re on the edge of a great cosmic dust cloud,” he told her quickly. “It caused the heat. But in a few minutes it will darken the sun, and there’ll be a wind—a terrible wind that will turn the air over and bring instant cold. If that cold touches you, you’ll die in seconds. Get down in the lower level! Hurry!”

  “B-but what about you? What will you do? How—”

  “Forget about me—I’ll manage all right. Do as I tell you!”

  With an effort he closed his mind to her, hiding the sudden helplessness he felt. Then he stopped running and turned to face the great bear.

  The Golden One had paused some distance behind him, at the edge of the ravine. The brazen sky was already darkening. A little wind had sprung up, sending the hot sand swirling about him.

  For a long moment the beast stood motionless, silently looking at him. Finally, the great head nodded as if to say: You win, Boy Jaim. Your eyes have been opened. Then, slowly, it turned and started back down into the ravine.

  Boy Jaim watched it disappear. Now a loneliness such as he had never known swept over him. My eyes have been opened, he thought. But why did it have to happen so late?

  In a few minutes he would die. He wanted so badly to live—only there was no place to go. Not here in the Barrens. There were many caves he knew of that might offer protection, but they were so far away that not even the fastest sled could have taken him to one in time.

  Some of the caves were huge, and he wondered if the Golden One could have sent the forest creatures to them for safety. The thought had no sooner come to him than he knew it was true. He felt a quick glow of happiness.

  Then the day began to darken rapidly and he heard the moaning of rising wind. The first great rush of it filled the world with flying sand and drove him head-long into the ravine, to go tumbling and rolling until he was well below the level of the Barrens. But hardly had he got his breath when the wind became a shriek, and abruptly it was cold.

  He cried out against the agony of a cold that almost numbed him in his tracks, then he saw the huge golden shape looming before him, beckoning with outstretched paws, offering protection.

  He ran forward, and the mighty paws encircled
him and drew him down, and he was enveloped and covered in a warmth of fur that shut out every prodding point of the knifing wind. “Rest, Boy Jaim,” the great beast said. “And tell L’Mara there is nothing more to fear. The heat of my body will keep you warm until this is over.”

  More About a Star

  The youngest herder hurried through the deepening twilight and climbed the slope to where the oldest herder waited. It was too early for his star to be up, but his eyes kept straying to the horizon where it always appeared. Again he wondered about the strangeness of its color last night. Had it really turned red—or had it just seemed that way because of something in the atmosphere?

  The oldest herder had been very curious, and the two of them had watched it for over an hour until the mist came and blotted out everything overhead.

  Now the sky was clear. How would his star look tonight?

  Then abruptly he forgot it when he reached the crest of the slope and saw that the oldest herder was holding something in his arms.

  “Say, what have you got there?”

  “A present for you,” the oldest herder said quietly.

  “A—a present?” The youngest herder stared at the small dim shape held out to him, then exclaimed in delight, “it’s a puppy!”

  “Yes,” said the oldest herder. “I thought it was about time you had another dog.”

  The youngest herder stammered his thanks and sat down on the grass, clinging to his new friend. His heart overflowed.

  He was not aware of the passage of time until he heard the oldest herder say, “There it is—your star! It’s red tonight. Much redder than last night.”

  The youngest herder’s hands tightened on the dog as he turned and looked. It was true. His star was very red tonight, so red that it was almost frightening.

  “What—what’s wrong with it?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know, son. But there must be a reason …”

  They watched the star while it climbed slowly into the heavens.