Other

by Gordon R. Dickson

  “I believe you,” Bleys said gently, “but a willingness to die doesn’t solve all problems. Things happen that no one can change. Remember why you and Ana are sitting here together in the first place. Why don’t you tell me now from your point of view what caused these bombings? I take for granted the fact that they weren’t by your direction, or even with your agreement; or even, come to think of it, that you knew about them before they happened.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Anjo. “They kept it secret from me. Just as you’re right about our organization having to be made up of people with different ideas about how to reach the end they all dream of—we’ve got our dreamers and our fools. We’ve also had our trigger-happy few who want to throw us into open revolt against the CEOs and the Guild, without stopping to think what the results will be, or the cost. Some of them, using your speeches as an excuse, simply went ahead and planted the bombs.”

  He paused and looked around at all of them.

  “There was no real useful end they could gain by it; just to make a noise, to do some damage—make an empty threat, in effect. But they did it; on their own and without telling any of the rest of us first. We’ve caught up with them now, and they won’t do it again. But there are always others—not your Others, but other Shoe members— who may not be quite as quick to blow things up, but who may be close to thinking they can get what they want simply and quickly, with threats. Your speeches, backed up by your presence on this planet, even if you’re in hiding, can make enough of our people think about finding some better way to solution than threats or force. A way that shows the CEOs and the Guild they have no choice but to recognize the overwhelming strength of our enormous majority; under a few strong leaders, or even—if we’re lucky—one strong leader.”

  “Yourself,” said Bleys.

  Anjo looked him squarely in the face.

  “If I knew anyone better than myself, I’d be standing behind whoever it was, right now. I’d tell you who he or she is,” he said.

  “How many of the People of the Shoe would accept you in a referendum vote, as their paramount leader, right now?” asked Bleys. “I’m right, aren’t I—you’re leading right now by a majority approval of their sectional leaders?”

  “Yes. And I do think the rank and file would give me a majority,” said Anjo. “No! More than just a majority. Most of them. Those who aren’t too anxious for open warfare, but aren’t too fearful of it. However, I’m not sure how many of those who’d accept me would still follow me if I sounded the call to action today. But I do know how many would follow you, if you were their one leader. With a handful of exceptions, everyone would listen to you—they’d all follow.”

  “You know what I told the Guild and the CEOs,” said Bleys. “I’m a philosopher, not a revolutionary. Particularly, I’m not a revolutionary on a world that’s not my home.”

  “They’ll still follow you,” said Anjo. “And they’d follow whoever walks in your footsteps, whoever speaks in your name, as long as he or she’s already proved his or her loyalty to the Shoe.”

  Bleys looked at him for a long moment, quietly.

  “So,” he said, “you want me to endorse you as the one to lead them all, in the speeches I’m now planning to record?”

  “No,” said Anjo, “I only want you to talk. I’m already walking in your footsteps. I’m already identified with what you say because most of it’s what I’ve been saying for some years now. If, in some of your speeches, you say some things that I haven’t said—even things that I wouldn’t have said—I’ll still follow what you say because I believe in you and for the sake of the People of the Shoe.”

  Bleys looked at him thoughtfully. He had left pushed to one side the two branches that normally barred the opening to this lean-to and acted as a bar to outside weather, so that the entrance had been clear for Toni and Dahno to walk in.

  Dahno, the last to come through, had not replaced the branches; and his big body, shouldering through, might even have widened the opening. In any case, since the four of them had started to talk, the entrance had been open and a cool breeze was now circulating through it. The temperature was not so much lower outside that the breeze was uncomfortable, but there was enough of a difference for Bleys now to be suddenly aware of it.

  It seemed to him that it eddied around the other three to come to him, and that the coolness came partly from both Dahno and Toni. They were looking at him with expressionless faces, but Bleys felt strongly that they were with Anjo in what he had just said, though they would not say so here and now.

  “What you say is interesting,” Bleys said to Anjo, “but it doesn’t change the facts, the situation or my mind—at least, in itself. Toni? Dahno? If either of you have something to say about this, now’s the time.”

  Toni still said nothing, but Dahno spoke.

  “You know what my job was on this trip,” he said. “I was the one to look into political situations; and I’ve already told you that the regular governmental apparatus here has no real power of its own, but just lets itself be pushed one way or another by the Guild or the CEOs—whichever one is strongest at the moment. So I haven’t wasted too much time with the government, but I have made some independent assessments of the CEOs and the Guild. So I’ll say this. You’ve got at least one thing going for you, if you want to chance staying around longer. They’re both massive organizations. That means they’re both slow to decide, slow to act; and, in this case, both the Guild and the CEOs have got to agree on any joint action first. Until they’ve done that, all they’ll dare do is try to locate you and immobilize you while they make up their minds on how to deal with you.”

  “How much time would you guess would be safe, then?” Bleys asked.

  Dahno shrugged. “Two weeks, maybe three,” he said. “I really don’t see how they can take any solid decision and move with it in under two weeks.”

  “All right, then.” Bleys looked back at Anjo. “Then I’ll stay here while we keep watch on the situation, and record” speeches. Meanwhile, Anjo, you can tell your People of the Shoe I prefer to have any contacts with them through you.”

  “Thank you—” Anjo began, but Bleys’s voice cut in on him.

  “Understand, I won’t say so in so many words in my speeches, but what I do say will leave my high opinion of you to be inferred. At the same time, I’ll come down hard against the idea of any kind of physical action, like these bombings. The watchword I’ll give them will be that they should wait. Wait until they’re in an unbeatable position to act; and when that moment comes, to do so—but not yet.”

  “Thank you!” said Anjo. “Great Teacher, thank you—not so much for choosing me, as for promising to stay, at least as long as you think you can. Believe me, it means everything to us!”

  “I do believe you,” said Bleys. “But now, if I’m staying, things need to be set up so that when I do go, I can go quickly, and without anyone knowing it. For that, I’ll need the help of both of you—you, Ana, and you, Anjo, working together.”

  “You know you’ve got my support,” said Ana.

  “And I don’t need to tell you you’ve got mine,” said Anjo.

  “I never doubted it,” said Bleys. “But we’re going to have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice; and get off-planet both secretly and quietly. Ana, if you’ll check your records you’ll find the ship we came in, Favored of God, is still in the New Earth City spaceport—technically undergoing some equipment overhauls, but actually standing by to carry me and the rest out. Get in touch with her First Officer and let him—him only—know that anytime after the next four days, he should be ready on a moment’s notice to lift with us for our next planetfall. He’s prepared to hear this.”

  “You might leave that soon?” she asked.

  Bleys shrugged.

  “Who knows?” he said. “Also, by the way, tell the First Officer about Anjo; and give Anjo a letter from you authorizing him to speak for you. Can you get that done right away?”

 
; “Of course,” said Ana.

  Bleys turned to Anjo.

  “Anjo, once you’ve got your identification, make personal contact with the First Officer and explain how we might be coming in at any time. Also, at the same time, make your own arrangements on the same basis, so you can get us all aboard secretly through whatever spaceport security is in the way. If and when I leave, I promise you I’ll be back as soon as I can, and you can keep in touch with me through Ana.”

  “I understand, Great Teacher,” said Anjo.

  “Fine,” said Bleys. “And meanwhile, I’ll get as many speeches recorded here as I can; and in them I’ll support your authority among your People of the Shoe as strongly as I can.”

  Bleys stopped speaking. There was a moment of silence, and then Dahno stood up.

  “Then I guess we’d all better get about it,” he said.

  Toni also stood up and she smiled at Bleys. The lean-to seemed warmer now. Anjo was already on his feet, and they went toward the door, as Bleys himself rose.

  “I’ll leave right away,” Anjo said. “I’ll call you at your headquarters in New Earth City.”

  “Very well,” said Ana.

  Anjo and Ana left, followed by Toni. Dahno held back for a moment. He looked at Bleys and nodded at him.

  “I think you made a good decision,” he said.

  “I hope so,” said Bleys.

  “Come on, now,” said Dahno. “You know you didn’t want to leave so early. You’re waiting for at least one more development from either the Guild or the CEOs or both, aren’t you?”

  “If we get one before I have to leave,” said Bleys, “it’ll be most welcome.”

  He and Dahno smiled at each other. It occurred to Bleys that their kinship caused them to understand each other, perhaps sometimes a little too well.

  Dahno nodded his head again and went out.

  With his going, the lean-to felt empty, and once more Bleys was conscious of the cool air coming in through the opening that was its entrance. He walked over and put the two protective pine boughs, each a good meter or more taller than he was, back into place, blocking out the draft.

  Chapter 14

  Anjo did indeed leave as the afternoon was ending. He was the last of the local people up at the camp to go for the next five days.

  He went back down the mountainside with Ana, the goats being harnessed curiously, but with practical common sense, behind the cart, rather than in front. The goats were obviously used to it, and began to brace themselves and slow the descent of the cart on the slope at the edge of the pine island, like veterans. Standing with Polon Gean, Anjo’s uncle, who had been in charge of building the camp from the beginning and was a permanent resident of it, Bleys and Toni watched the cart with its passengers and its goats until the shadows on the lower slopes hid them from sight.

  The next morning, however, Polon came to Bleys and Toni as they were having breakfast in the mess hall and sat down with them, carrying a cup of coffee.

  “There’s something you might want to look at,” he said to them. “If you’re finished here, I’ll take you out to the edge of the island and you can see it. It’s pretty impressive for someone who’s never seen it before.”

  “What is it?” asked Toni.

  Polon smiled, his weathered, round, middle-aged face creasing in a slow, teasing expression of cheerfulness.

  “Don’t you want to see for yourself?” he asked. He took them out to the same point where Bleys had seen Toni talking with Henry over the spy system around the camp.

  From this height on the side of the mountain they could ordinarily see a good hundred kilometers out to the perfectly level horizon of the altiplano. But now that horizon was no longer regular. It seemed much closer, no longer the hard semicircle of sharp demarcation that it had been before. Now there was a blurred, uncertain line where earth and sky came together.

  Also, the desert below them seemed smaller; and, as they watched the horizon, it seemed to continue to grow gradually, not only in area but toward the sky; although there was no perceptible thickening of its line. It was only after Bleys had been watching for several minutes that he realized the reddish-gray, flat country before him appeared to be literally shrinking at a snail’s pace, becoming smaller and smaller.

  “Something’s coming!” said Toni, staring out at the land below them. “What is it, Polon?”

  “Sandstorm,” answered Anjo’s uncle, his brown face unsmiling as he watched, just staring at the horizon. “It’ll reach us in another hour. Then, until it’s over, no one here will risk going down, or anyone down there risk coming up. You can hardly see your hand in front of your face even indoors. When the sand’s blowing all around you—it’s more like fine dust than sand, really—it can get into even tightly sealed rooms. Try to touch your nose outdoors, and the only way you’ll know your hand’s there is by feeling it. You don’t see anything, outside, when it’s like that. Even the lower slopes down there are too risky to try traveling blind—up or down.”

  “I can believe it,” said Toni.

  “The only good thing,” Polon went on, “is that while we can’t get out, nobody can come up and find us here, either. Also, that wind with the sand in it can suffocate you in minutes, if you’re not in shelter. That means you’re safe here for another several days, anyhow.”

  “You knew this was coming?” Bleys watched the growing line of the storm.

  “Everyone here knows that,” said Polon. “There’s a special weather pattern that says it’s coming. Good thing, too, so our people down there can fort-up for it.”

  “No one mentioned it to us.”

  “Probably took it for granted you’d know,” said Polon. “Just hit me this morning you might not.”

  “Will the sand get to us here, too, finally?” asked Toni.

  Polon shook his head. “The top of the sand won’t reach higher than two hundred meters above the level ground. Even the strongest blow can’t lift the fine grains higher than that.”

  “How long will it last?” asked Bleys.

  Polon shrugged. “Two, three hours? Five, six days? Who knows?”

  “A five-or six-day sandstorm,” said Bleys, “particularly one widespread as this—”

  He shook his head.

  “But it’s real enough, all right,” said Polon, looking darkly at the encroaching semicircle of brownness. “Though you won’t find it anyplace else. Weather, land, the season of year—everything’s got to be just right; and they aren’t like that, all together, on any other World people’ve seen yet. Some of that sand starts coming a couple hundred kilometers away; in desert out beyond the horizon—a desert along the shores of the big lake we call Inner Sea, beyond where the high land here drops off gradually to the lower level. These mountains stop the storm from going farther, so its circular motion will end up making it slide away to the north. Until then, if you really want to see something, wait a while more, until it’s covered all the ground between the mountains and the horizon.”

  What he said proved true. As Bleys and Toni stood watching, the brown area changed constantly. It was now beginning to show a steady, ominous growth in size, both up into the air and across a farther stretch of flat land in front of them. But more than this, they could now see from above that the sand mass was constantly in motion within itself like a cauldron of boiling water. There was nothing about it that remained the same, for even a moment.

  Polon left them after a little while, but Toni and Bleys stayed, anchored by the sight.

  As it grew even closer, the height of the storm’s front began to show itself, at first as a thin but perceptible line, then as a thicker and thicker bar against the horizon, until at last it was visible as an actual front moving toward them, seeming not so much to cover the ground over which it passed as to devour the very earth beneath it.

  As the storm neared, it could be seen to be coming much more swiftly than they had thought before. It also gave the impression of closing in on the point from which they
viewed it, although its line of advance was still apparently straight across the open landscape.

  By the time the storm was a kilometer from the bottom of the mountain slope at their feet, the height of its front was plain to see. It seemed to loom over everything before it, threatening even them, though they stood high above it on the mountainside.

  Now the storm was very close indeed, probably less than half a kilometer from the base of the abruptly rising slopes where the mountains began. Now it was clear that the whole mass was in continual motion—not merely moving toward them, but in motion within itself. Looking across the wide top of the storm, to a horizon that was smudged and uncertain instead of the sharp line they had seen on their first view of it from this height on the mountain, it was possible to see that the storm’s whole wide body was rotating like stirred batter as it moved forward.

  But the large general rotation was simply the mainspring of the storm, the largest of its movements. As the storm reached the foot of the mountain, they could see innumerable smaller whirlpools of action within the one great circling that moved the whole; and lesser eddies within these, becoming progressively smaller, down to the point where every least part of the flying sand seemed to be in an independent dance of its own. But the smaller these motions were, the more they were erratic; until it was clear that the mass was twisting and writhing in all its parts, even as it drove forward like a snowslide down an ice slope.

  At last the storm reached the bottom of the mountain; but instead of stopping there, as they had expected after what Polon had said, it started to creep up the slopes; and Bleys found himself holding his breath unconsciously from moment to moment, until the creeping ceased finally; breaking down at the point where the whirling brown surge turned into something like a series of waves crashing on the shores of an ocean, except for the fact that they were finally shattered into spumes and spoutings, that tried to climb higher but could not.