Sensitive

by Dan Donoghue

  Then had occurred the incident with the kerry. In that heart-stopping moment she had felt the bound that carried him away from her, and, at the same instant, seen the fearful lunge of the kerry. In the frozen sparks of time that followed, she had seen the two converging, she had witnessed the incredible flight of the spear about which the men still talked, but she had seen more. She alone had realised that there had been no hesitation, no swerving, no lack of speed after the shaft had left his hand. He had gone on without weapon of any sort to put himself between the animal and the child, and her whole being had been torn between terror and a terrible exultation. They had stood together, giant man, and tiny child, watching the death throes of the creature, and she had wept and laughed, and tried not to scream.

  Then, in the morning of the next day, he had gone, and in the desolation of his absence, she knew the measure of this thing that had happened to her, and the despair of its doom.

  Wolf had got ready for bed, but the fickle fatigue had deserted him, and he sat by the window staring out over the treetops to the rim of a strange horizon, sparkled with alien stars. It was a silent world this. There was no true bird life. Some lizard-like things glided on great, thin expanses of skin, and used the thermal currents to ride above the jungles, and pick insects from the air with long whip tongues, but no owls called from the trees at night, no wild dogs howled to a rising moon, no cough, or roar, or rustle. Only the soft wind stirred the alien leaves, and made a low sloughing across the crops. From a house below came a sudden high ripple of laughter that startled the air, then someone spoke, and the silence returned. Wolf opened his mind to test the thing, and immediately, as though it lurked in waiting, he felt the soft seductive caress, and shivered. What sort of thing sat there over those hills waiting, calling, reaching out with an allure as beautiful as the scent of flowers, but deadly? Was that it? Was it some sort of plant—perhaps a forest of them that had evolved past the use of perfume and fruit to something different?

  Then came a gentle tapping on the door. Wolf's mind leapt out, and found Margaret there, and he would have pretended sleep, but she did not wait to be invited, but opened the door and slipped in.

  She turned aside for a moment while he pulled a cover from the bed to hide his nakedness, then she came forward. If she was embarrassed it did not show on her face, and Wolf did not seek her mind. “I don't think your father would be pleased of this,” he said mildly, as she reached the bed, and sat down on the end a little way from him.

  “I am gone eighteen a full year and more. My life in now my own,” she answered with a slight lift of her chin.

  Wolf made no reply to that, but sat waiting, watching her. For a moment she plucked at the fabric of the bed cover, then looked up. “You are a sensie—sensitive.” It was a statement rather than a question, but Wolf nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “This thing? Do you think you have a chance against it?” The words came with a little rush, and she crushed the cover in a clenched hand.

  “I do not know, and that's the truth,” Wolf said quietly. “I have perhaps a better chance than those who went before me. I certainly hope so anyway,” he added in an attempt to lighten the tone of the conversation.

  She didn't smile. “It is not necessary for you to go. The Star-bird will be returning to Earth the day after tomorrow. You could go home.”

  Wolf laughed. “The cost is something oven a quarter of a million creds, I think. I have about ten that the governor gave me the first day I came.”

  “I have sufficient to pay your passage,” she said in a tight little voice.

  “What? You? But why?” It was a concept that had not entered Wolf's head, and his surprise coloured his voice.

  Margaret looked at him angrily. “Why do you sound surprised? You are supposed to be the sensitive. You are supposed to know what everyone is thinking. Why do you pretend you don't? You are treating me like a child!”

  Wolf shook his head. “No, Margaret. You are wrong. I do not know what you are thinking. You are not a sender. To know your thoughts, and anyone's here, I'd have to read them, and that would be an invasion of your privacy that—that would be very disrespectful to say the very least. I would not wish to do that to you of all people.”

  “Oh!” Margaret bit her lip. “I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought—I think everyone thinks—that you just know—sort of hear everything we're thinking.”

  Wolf smiled. “Under those circumstances I must thank you again for allowing me into your home. It is true there are sensitives on Earth who use their powers ruthlessly. That is why they have caused so much strife, and why we must be registered, and why there are restrictions. My people had very strict views on sensitives. If they read a person without getting permission, they could be killed.”

  “It is all right if you are given permission?”

  “Why, yes. There is no invasion where one is invited.”

  “Then read me, and see my reasons. You have my permission.” She sat stiffly, her lips compressed, eyes shut, holding her breath.

  Wolf could not help laughing, nor could he stop from leaning over, and taking her hands in his.

  “I would not hurt you if I read your mind. You would feel nothing. You wouldn't even know when I started and when I stopped, but do you really want me to do it? And it is no longer necessary. Only love or hate would issue such an invitation, and hate wouldn't offer a quarter of a million creds to save my life.”

  “I do love you.” she whispered. “I do! I don't want you to go after that thing tomorrow.”

  Wolf stood up, and drew her with him so they stood side by side, looking out over the silent forests to the edge of the plateau, and the distant line of mountains in the North, North-east. “I have to go. I cannot live in this world with that thing breathing on my neck, and I could not take your money, and buy my life with your loneliness. If I die, better you know I died trying to come back to you, than to know I lived, leaving you.”

  “Then you love me too.”

  “This is not the time to talk of love. It would put too great a burden on me. I have seen men hesitate when there was a woman's hurt to think on. If I return we'll speak of love. I shall need all the courage I can muster, I dare not have cause to hesitate.”

  “And this girl you go to try to find before you are rested. Will she cause you to hesitate?”

  “No. I loved Leeli Pa'Lar, but I did not know her. I loved what I thought I saw. She gave a body to a dream I had, but only in body did she match it. Everything else—everything else was vastly different. I have seen Leeli Pa'Lar in the minds of people who knew her. It is sometimes not easy to be a sensitive.”

  “Why don't you rest then? What difference can a couple of days make?”

  “You were a reason, but there are others. I fear to rest. This thing, I feel it. It is like a drug. Every time I open my mind and taste it, I wish to have it more. Besides Leeli-Pa'Lar was no fool, and she walked into the jungle wearing nothing but a night-dress, and carrying nothing but a comb. As you might have noticed the governor forgot to issue me with pyjamas.”

  She laughed at that. “Probably he didn't have any that would fit. I'm afraid we haven't. I'll have some made up for when you return.” She turned to face him, and lifted both arms to his shoulders. “You will return. Burden you may think it, but you are wrong. Look into me now, and I will give you reason to be strong. I want you to know me. I want you to know how much I want you. When you are fighting that thing, I want you to know that you fight with my life too.”

  She strained against him, and he wrapped her in his long arms, and held her close. Then he glanced into her mind. It was just for a moment, and he drew back, and held her away so he could look into her face.

  “Margaret! Child!” he whispered. “You are wrong! I'm not—not him. I could never be like that! I'm only me! You have taken my body and fitted it to your dream!”

  She was not perturbed. “I suppose I have. Perhaps that's what everyone does. But I think I'm not so
far off the mark.” Gently she released herself. “I'll not burden you anymore. I think now you'll come back to me. Good night, and tonight, dream of me.” She slipped out of his arms and was gone through the door.

  She made very little noise as she went to her room, but from his bed, her father marked every step of her passage, and it was long before sleep brought peace to his restless mind.

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  Chapter 10

  On ridges and high land the vegetation wasn't too bad, but in the valleys, and on the plains it was evil stuff. There, was jungle at its worst, nothing defined; below, a seeping sponge of earth, water, and rot; above, the air, the damp, and the plant cells merged into one conglomerate, woven with timber and vine, and thickened with moss. The whole dripping mass was a living culture of weird creatures, each in its tiny cosmos, fighting, biting, stinging, living, reproducing, dying, melting back into the basic slime. Not even the rivers had defined beds. The ground just became progressively wetter until water was the dominant element, and it flowed. Nameless creatures lurked in the dark depths then.

  Wolf moved more quickly than most men would have been able, following the ridges in the more open forests, with an instinctive feel for the lay of the land, but a much more useful talent of surveying the country with his mind.

  Courteau had wanted him to take the two young men of the expedition with him, but he had refused, pointing out that one efficient traveller went faster, and freer from attack, than did a number. He was used to working alone, and his stamina was far greater than any ordinary man's. They would only slow him.

  For weapons, he carried a hand blaster, useful for light and heat, as well as defence. For hunting, he preferred the short throwing spear with its knife-edged steel tip that was useful as a travelling aid, machete, and instant weapon. The rest of his gear consisted only of a light waterproof sleeper-tent, a water bottle with inbuilt purifiers, a small tin of rations, a knife, and a couple of spare energy packs for the blaster. They had discussed the use of a radio, but Wolf had objected that the bulk of one capable of giving any useful range in the rough terrain was too great for the measure of safety it provided. If his search for Leeli Pa'Lar had not made it necessary to stay at ground level then he could have carried much more, and travelled much quicker and easier by jump jet. As it was, if he was attacked and hurt, he would probably be killed and eaten long before any aid could reach him. His greatest danger came from that which he sought, and, if it got him, then it would be unlikely that he would use a radio even if he had one. Courteau did not press the matter. Others had carried radios, and they had just gone silent, and only the drifting breezes had come back out of the north, north-east.

  His mode of travel was simple. He found a place that offered some protection, opened his mind, and swept the area as far as he could reach for any sign of Leeli Pa'Lar. If he found no kerries close by, he lifted his awareness until it cleared the trees. Then he chose a route, and surveyed along either side of it. Then he checked his path behind for stalkers, and went on. It was a remarkably efficient way of travelling. He went by the best possible paths, crossed valleys and plains at their narrowest places, and skirted bad lands. It took him out of his way often, but increased his speed. Each time he opened his mind the sense of pleasure caressed it with greater intensity, and he was never in doubt of the way to go.

  Night represented his time of maximum danger. Kerries hunted mostly at dawn and evening, but they hunted cat-like at night also. Fire kept them at a distance, but also attracted them from afar. A fire at night brought them in to watch from the shadows until the flames dropped sufficiently for them to attack. A fire required enough fuel to keep it burning all night, and a wakeful man to feed it. Even then, it almost assured that there would be animals in ambush within the first hundred metres or so of the camp.

  The first night Wolf camped high in a tree where any approach must shake the branches and waken him. Woken, he was in no danger. His visual awareness required no light.

  On the second day he speared a small tree-climbing animal, and made a fire to cook it for his breakfast. On his second stop after leaving it, he detected a kerry back at the fireplace. On his third stop, he found two of them on his trail. All day they stalked him, following about two hundred metres behind. Each time he stopped they came close so that he could not properly survey his path lest they catch him with his awareness lessened. It seemed that they were waiting for darkness, but why two beasts of such obvious killing efficiency were reluctant to attack a lone man, he could not say, and it was out of character if all he had been told about the beasts was correct. They were a nuisance. They made travelling more difficult, and, unless he could get rid of them, his night promised to be sleepless.

  Carefully, he chose an ambush, and waited. They came to within twenty metres and stopped. It puzzled him. The wind blew from them to him, he had walked on grass, and had made no noise, so even with acute hearing, there should have been no sudden absence of sound to warn them. He had set thousands of such ambushes on Earth, and never had they been detected—not even by men whose lives depended upon it. Still they lay motionless waiting for him to move again. He did so, slipping away at an angle to his previous path, and calling upon all his skill to move utterly silently, to leave as little scent as possible, and to show no pattern of changing light. Again he lay in ambush. Again the animals followed to within twenty metres, and gently crouched and waited.

  Wolf travelled quickly until he reached a more open area on a low, flat-topped hill. Then he swung round in a tight semi-circle to come up behind the animals. They stopped, sat for a few minutes, then swung round, one on either side of him, keeping their distance, and came together behind him.

  There could be only one explanation. Wolf sought their minds. They were aware of his. For a startled moment he thought they were intelligent, but there was no thought, only knowledge such as a dog has, but certainly they were sensitive to a degree. They were strangely calm. He had read the attack signals in the minds of countless animals. All had been similar. He had read the excitement of the stalk in them. These had little excitement. They read like the minds of dogs on a ramble.

  As evening approached, he made for a rocky outcrop, and climbed to a high ledge. Rocks overhung it so that he was safe from attack from above. He settled down with his back against the hard rock, and prepared to await the dawn, philosophically chewing on a piece of compressed fruit and nut from the ration pack. The kerries crept to the foot of the rocks, and settled down for the night. They made no attempt to attack with the onset of night, their minds remained calm.

  All night Wolf sat waiting, sometimes dozing lightly, confident in his ability to come awake should the kerries move. All night the beasts kept vigil beneath him. It built to a great storm, lightning flashed and lit the forests, or laced hill and cloud together with fiery chains, thunder crashed, and rolled, and shook the rocks, and made the earth to shiver. Wind sent the trees swaying and clashing, and tore a tribute from their branches, rain pounded the earth. Neither man nor animal moved. The storm spent its strength, the winds tore the clouds to wisps, a great calmness met the dawn.

  Near first light, one of the kerries stirred. Instantly Wolf shook sleep from his mind, and became alert, easing the cramp from his muscles, and the blaster into his hand. The animal moved away into the forest. Wolf followed it with his mind. He felt it pick up a trail, and knew its fierce delight in the stalk, he witnessed its kill, and watched its return. The second animal had not moved. When the first returned they changed places. The second went off to hunt. By sunrise they had both killed. They were both watching once more.

  Wolf came down from his perch. The kerries retired to their twenty metre station. After another meagre meal from the ration pack, and a drink of water, he set off. Again the animals followed. For two hours they kept to his trail, then, for no apparent reason, on the edge of a scarp, they stopped. Twice he cast back, and found them lying there watching the path h
e had taken. The third time they were gone, and he found them at the vague limit of his range, trotting back the way they had come. It was as though they had conducted him across their territory, and, that done, were content. He wondered if it had something to do with the breeding cycle.

  About midday, as he struggled through thick jungle, he lifted his awareness, and noted a small basin-like landform, lower than the one he crossed, but far more openly forested, though streams poured into it through tiny gorges on all sides, and left as a fairly large stream to the west. It offered much easier travelling, so he turned aside to cross it. He found it a small plain with steep walls, as though a great lake had been drained. But it didn't look like the bed of an ancient lake. One would expect such an area to have a rich soil and lush vegetation. Here the soil was thin and rocky, the trees sparse and stunted, and the tall grass in clumps with bare rock or a sort of low growing nettle between. The floor of the plain was broken by a series of sharp sided hills whose flat tops spoke of rapid erosion from the higher level.

  There were no signs of kerries, and the place was thick with the small scurrying diks that formed the main meat supply of the settlement. They appeared to live on the seeds of the grasses, and to nest in the clumps. Wolf speared a couple, then climbed to the top of one of the hills to escape the grass, and to cook them.

  They made a very welcome meal after the ration pack stuff, and, when he had finished, Wolf sat and rested, and idly looked across the plain. He was happy. The forest was his natural element, its strangeness added interest, and the danger kept his senses quick, and his body alive. He wondered briefly about Leeli Pa'Lar, and why she had come seeking him in so perilous a place, but mostly his thoughts were on the girl who held a God-like dream of him, and of land of his own, and sons and daughters to walk it.