Rite of Passage

by Alexei Panshin

  * * *

  The next night, we left our horses tied in the trees. We were miles from our camp of the previous night. We had arrived on the hillside in the late afternoon, then crawled through the woods to look over the army complex. Below us, in the gold light, was a town cupped in a bowl between the hills. On our side of the town was an enfenced army base, patrolled like all army bases by regular guards, and on what must have been their parade ground was sitting the scoutship.

  “I got curious,” Jimmy said. “It seemed strange to me that they should have a scoutship. I snuck out there to take a look and I got careless and got caught.”

  Buildings framed the parade ground on three sides. The enclosed short side was nearest to our vantage point high above. The open short side was at the far end of the parade ground nearest to the town. There were some few trees mixed among the buildings. The fence was linked iron spikes, and it completely circled the camp. It was perhaps a hundred feet from the fence to the nearest building.

  Jimmy pointed through the leaves. “See the two-story building just below there? That’s their headquarters. That’s where they took me until the police came from the town. That’s where we ought to look for my gear.”

  The building was red brick with a gray slate roof and it dominated the end of the parade ground. Most of the other buildings in the camp were only single story—barracks and stables and the like—and the other two-story buildings were not as large.

  We timed the guard on his rounds. It took him twenty minutes to walk from one end of his post to the other in the slow, casual way of guards killing watch hours. Sometimes he reached the end of his post at the same time as the guard from the adjacent post and they stopped and talked.

  I said, “We couldn’t count on more than twenty minutes if we hit the guard.”

  “No,” Jimmy said. “We’ll do best if we can sneak over without being seen.”

  After we had checked everything, we crawled back out of sight on our knees, and then we went back to our horses, where we ate a cold meal. Jimmy’s mistake before had been that he had entered the camp too early, when people were still about and the guards were alert. We were both tired from riding all day and we went to sleep until well after dark. I woke when Jimmy shook me.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

  We took our time picking our way down the dark slope, making as little noise as possible. I was glad to be with Jimmy. We did make a team, and with Jimmy along I felt something more of an effective hell on wheels than I did by myself. It was twenty feet from the edge of the brush to the fence, the space cleared. We crouched there in the brush, able to see the fence and barely able to make out the outline of the two-story headquarters building beyond.

  “Shh,” Jimmy whispered, holding my arm. “There’s the guard.”

  We waited until he had passed and then we ran low to the iron fence. Jimmy gave me a boost and I grasped the spikes, the points sharp under my thumbs. He pushed me up and I got a knee on the top bar between the spikes. I paused there for a brief moment and then I jumped clear on the far side, ripping my pants on one of the spikes. I looked both ways to see if the noise of my landing had alerted anyone, and then I turned back to the fence. I put both hands through the bars and cupped them for Jimmy’s foot. He stepped into my hands and I pushed up. He got his other foot on the top bar and then sprang over. He landed on his feet with a thud that was noisier than mine and then without pausing we ran for the nearest tree, where we stopped for a moment before we ran to the shadow of the headquarters building.

  There was a partial cloud rack overhead and the light varied from dim to worse as the clouds moved by. We moved to the end of the building, Jimmy preceding, and there we stopped while Jimmy put his head around. Then we went around the corner and I could see the silent and empty parade ground and one or two night lights in the buildings on its edge. I could barely see the scoutship squatting in the dirt. We checked again at the next corner and then we ghosted along the front of the building.

  “There should be one man on night duty,” Jimmy said. “The office is just to the right inside the door.”

  He pointed up to a window over our heads. I could see light there and shadows on the ceiling. We went up the steps, flattened in the doorway while Jimmy and I took out our pistols, and then we went through the door. The hall was dark and quiet. The door to the room on our right was open and light was streaming out.

  Jimmy went through the door, gun in his hand, and said, “Put your hands up.”

  There was just one man behind the desk and his head had been nodding. He came awake with a start and looked at us.

  “You again,” he said.

  It was a chubby little man, not particularly competent looking, dressed in a green uniform with red markings and red braided epaulets on the shoulders. The room was large and contained a number of desks, one on the side of the door and two on the side opposite. There were several offices behind the desks. The lamp turned low on the officer’s desk was the only light.

  “Keep your voice down,” Jimmy said. “I’ll shoot you if I have to. Now where is my gear?”

  The officer said, “I don’t know,” but his voice was uncertain. He was startled and still half asleep.

  Jimmy nodded to me to go around the desk. I took out my knife and the man’s eyes watched me. He tried to move his chair, but I pushed at the back of it so that he couldn’t rise.

  “Careful there, boy,” he said, his voice rising.

  I took the point of the knife and I pricked his ear. It didn’t even bring a drop of blood.

  “Where is the gear?” I asked.

  The man choked and cleared his throat. “Not in any one place. I don’t know where everything be.”

  “Where are my saddlebags?”

  He shrugged helplessly. “In the stables, I suppose.”

  “What about the stuff that was in them?”

  Eagerly he said, “They been fooling with that in the mess. Some of the boys.”

  “Take us to the mess.”

  “I can’t show you,” the officer said. “I can’t leave my post.”

  I tickled his epaulet with my knife. “You’ll have to.”

  “Don’t cut that!” he said in agitation.

  “Show us.” I raised the knife.

  “Very well,” he said helplessly. “It be on the second floor.”

  I took the lamp from the desk and Jimmy prodded the officer to his feet. He led us out into the corridor and then up the stairs. We walked down another corridor on the second floor, our footsteps echoing hollowly. At last we came to a door and the pudgy little officer unlocked it and threw it open.

  “There,” he said.

  The lamplight showed a silent room with a great long white-cloth covered table surrounded by ranks of chairs. There was a lounge and a great fireplace.

  “Show us,” Jimmy said.

  The officer led the way over to the lounge. There was a dartboard there and newspapers and games, and on one of the tables Jimmy’s chessboard. I recognized it. I don’t know who Jimmy had been intending to play with. Some of his other things were scattered about.

  “Jimmy,” I said, in a voice filled with dread. “I don’t see it.”

  Jimmy took a quick look himself. “No,” he said. He turned to the officer. “We’re looking for a little block-sized object about so by so. Have you seen it?”

  “No,” said the officer. “I haven’t been playing with your stuff.”

  I poked him with the knife. “Are you sure?”

  With some asperity he said, “I be sure! I don’t remember seeing anything like that.”

  “What are we going to do now?” I said to Jimmy.

  “I don’t know. It must be somewhere, but I don’t know where we could look.”

  I was really beginning to worry as I hadn’t before. We couldn’t run loose around this place for very long without being caught, and if we didn’t find the signal we would never get home at all.

&nb
sp; We went back downstairs and into the office. It was then that I was suddenly struck by an idea.

  “There’s the scoutship outside,” I said. “We could take that! If these people can fly it, we can.”

  The chubby officer said, “No you won’t! You Ship people think you have everything, but we’ll show you. We’ve got a little ship of our own now and we be tougher people than you. You won’t take that ship.”

  “No need,” Jimmy said. He picked a paperweight off one of the desks. It was his missing signal. He turned with it to the officer. “I thought you hadn’t seen this . . . ?”

  “Oh, be that what you wanted? I never noticed it.” The officer’s back was turned to me. I took out my pistol and somewhat squeamishly hit him with it under the ear.

  “Come on, Jimmy,” I said. “If you’ve got the signal, let’s go.”

  We went out into the night again. We went around the corner of the building toward the back, but then Jimmy pulled me to a stop. He put his mouth to my ear.

  “It’s the guard. See?” He pointed.

  We crouched there in the lee of the building as the guard paced slowly down the fence toward the other end of the building. Then, all of a sudden, the night was split with a shout.

  “Guards! Guards!”

  It came from the front of the building. The guard on patrol here swung around at the shout, but like a good soldier he didn’t leave his post. He simply cut off our retreat.

  “Come on,” Jimmy said. We slipped along the buildings parallel to the fence. The shouting continued. Jimmy stopped by a small building at the corner of the square, a building set apart. From there we could see in two directions along the fence.

  Jimmy said, “Couldn’t you have hit the officer harder?”

  “I don’t like to hit people.”

  There was all sorts of hoorah going on. We couldn’t see it, but we could hear it.

  Then I said, “Jimmy, do you know what this building is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a powder house. See the danger sign? Let’s create a diversion. Let’s blow up the scoutship.”

  Jimmy smiled. He reached out and touched my hair for just a second.

  We found the door and Jimmy broke the lock with his pistol butt. Whatever noise we made was amply covered. We piled inside and Jimmy swung the door shut behind us. There were small windows in the front of the building and through them we could see soldiers running about on the parade ground and lamps and torches being lit. Guards ran by on their way to reinforce the fences. It began to seem a very good thing to be inside. In the light of the torches we could see the scoutship with its ramp down. Men formed in a line on the parade ground, a formation. Then they were being talked at.

  Jimmy said, “They’ll probably be searching the buildings soon.”

  I found a small powder keg and set a fuse about five feet long in it. The principle was simple enough. The only thing I wasn’t sure was how long the fuse would take to burn. That was a chance.

  Jimmy and I talked about what we would do while the men on the far side of the parade ground were being given their orders. It was almost like playing Paper-Scissors-Rock, where you both decide what you’re going to do and then reveal at the same time. We’d make our plans, and they would make theirs, and then we’d see who won. I gave Jimmy my gun and he loaded it. We then slipped out the back door again. I trailed another fuse out the door behind us.

  I said, “Start firing in forty seconds.”

  Jimmy said, “Yes,” and he slipped away along the buildings.

  I crouched in the dark with my back to the fence and took out a match. I shielded it carefully and scratched it on the lighter board. It didn’t light and so I struck it again. It flared into light and I touched it to the fuse end. The fuse began to sputter and I waved out the match, lifted the small powder keg, and went around the side of the building.

  Then down the way Jimmy opened up over the heads of the men in formation. They fell to the ground and began to fire back. I trusted Jimmy to keep his head down.

  I didn’t hesitate. I plunged straight out onto the parade ground. The keg was heavy and I concentrated simply on running for the scoutship ramp. I don’t know if anybody saw me or if I was shot at. I just concentrated on running. As I got to the ramp, the powder house blew up in a great flash of light and noise. Pieces of the building flew into the air. The concussion knocked me to my knees, but I got up again immediately and dashed up the ramp.

  Inside the scoutship, I didn’t hesitate but went immediately to the control room. I set the keg on the pilot’s seat, right next to the main panel. Through the dome I could see men and confusion everywhere. Nobody was firing now. Fire from the powder house had spread to one of the barracks and men were running for water.

  I lit another match and touched this fuse off. Then I went down the stairs as fast as I could. Outside, I looked back at the scoutship. Great shadows and flickerings were reflected on the dull metal.

  Somebody ran into me then and said, “Watch out there,” and ran on. The parade ground was a crisscrossing of men and nobody even noticed me.

  I was beginning to despair, to think I’d have to go back and relight the fuse, when I felt a dull whump. These people were not going to use the scoutship again.

  I slipped between the buildings, out of the parade ground, and out of the light and noise. The fences were deserted. It took me several difficult minutes to climb over. Then I climbed through the tree- and brush-covered hillside slowly.

  At the top, very near the place from which Jimmy and I had made our observations in the afternoon, I looked back at the army compound. The fire had spread to a second building and men like ants rushed around. I watched for a few minutes and then I went on. Jimmy was waiting by the horses when I got there.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’m all right. But I dropped the signal.”

  I gasped.

  “I’m just kidding,” he said.

  I sat down on a rock and spread my torn pant leg. Somewhat gingerly, I touched my leg.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, I cut myself going over the fence the first time.”

  “That’s too bad,” Jimmy said. He took a look himself. It’s not too bad. Do you want me to kiss it and make it well?”

  “Would you?”

  Jimmy stood up then and looked toward the light-streaked sky. He waved at it. “You know, that’s an awful lot of trouble to make simply because you can’t bring yourself to hit somebody.”

  Chapter 19

  THE FINAL MORNING ON TINTERA WAS BEAUTIFUL. We and the horses were in a rock-enclosed aerie high on a mountainside near the coast. In the aerie were grass and a small rock spring, and this day, the final day, was bright with only a few piled clouds riding high in the sky and warm enough that we could put our coats aside. We had eaten breakfast and packed one final time, and now we were just sitting quietly in the sun.

  Looking from the top of the rocks, you could see over miles of expanse. On one side, the mountain dropped and beyond it you could see miles of ocean, gray flecked with white, see part of the coast and shore, brown cliffs and dark wet rocks and a narrow beach, see occasional birds gliding on the wind and imagine their calls. Turning your gaze inland, you could see upland meadows in the foreground and mountains much like this one beyond, making a line along the coast. Farther inland were lower hills and curving valleys, blending together, all covered with another rolling sea of trees, a sea at close range made of varying shades of gray and green, but at a distance an even olive.

  Down there, under that sea, were all sorts of things—wild Losels and men hunting us. We had seen the Losels and they had seen us; they had gone their way and we had gone ours. The men hunting us we hadn’t had a glimpse of for four days, and that last time they hadn’t even seen us. Also under that sea might be some of the other kids from the Ship, but we hadn’t seen them at all.

  Early in the morning we triggered the signal. It was six
hours before the ship came. We passed the time quietly, keeping one eye on guard, talking. There was a tiny little animal chattering and nipping around the rocks and I tossed it some food.

  We went aboard when the scout came, and put our horses away. Mr. Pizarro was there, checking us back aboard. We were the sixth and seventh.

  I said to Jimmy, “I’m going upstairs to talk to George.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll tell Mr. Pizarro what happened to us.”

  We thought they ought to know. Certainly things had been more adventurous for us than anything we thought might have been counted on during Trial. So I went upstairs to see George.

  “Congratulations, Adult,” he said when he saw me. “I knew you’d make it.”

  “Hello, George,” I said. “Tell me, have you had any trouble in picking up people so far?”

  “No trouble,” he said, “but I have been worrying. Look.” He waved his hand at the grid he was using as a guide for his pickups. There were nowhere near twenty-nine lights. I counted them and there were twelve.

  “The last light came on two hours ago,” George said. “I’m afraid a lot of people aren’t going to get picked up.”

  I told him a little of what had happened to us. I stayed upstairs while we dropped down and picked up Venie Morlock, and then another double pickup. Then I went down and sat with Jimmy.

  I said, “There are only six more pickups to make. Look how few of us there are.”

  “Is it that bad?” Jimmy said. “I wonder what the Council will say.”

  There were only ten of us aboard now. Jimmy and I and Venie were safe, but Att and Helen and Riggy were not yet aboard.

  All of a sudden, George called for attention over the speaker. “All right, kids—shut up and listen. One of our people is down there. I didn’t get close enough to see who, but whoever it is is being shot at. We’re going to have to bust him out. I’ll give you two minutes to get your weapons and then I’m going to buzz down and try to get him out. I want all of you outside and laying down a covering fire.”

  Some of the kids had their weapons with them. Jimmy and I hopped for the gear racks and got out our pistols. I loaded mine for the first time. There were eleven of us, including Mr. Pizarro, and four ramps to the outside. Jimmy and I and Jack Fernandez-Fragoso stood by one ramp. Then George swooped down, touched light as a feather, and dropped all four ramps.