When the People Fell

by Cordwainer Smith

  Oda put her question to the young woman: Who are you?

  The hot, strange mind flung back quickly: Juli, of course.

  At this point Charls intervened. There's no "of course" about it, he spieked.

  What am I doing? the girl's thoughts ran. I'm in mental telepathy with puppy-dog people.

  Embarrassed, Charls and Oda watched her as her thoughts splashed out.

  "Doesn't she know how to close off her thoughts?" Charls wondered. And why had her mind seemed so closed when she was in the box?

  Puppy-dog people. Where can I be if I'm mixed up with puppy-dog people? Can this be Earth? Where have I been? How long have I been gone? Where is Germany? Where are Carlotta and Karla? Where are Daddy and Mother and Uncle Joachim? Puppy-dog people!

  Charls and Oda felt the sharp edge of the mind that was so recklessly flinging all these thoughts. There was a kind of laughter that was cruel each time she thought puppy-dog people. They could feel that this mind was as bright as the brightest minds of the True Men—but this mind was different. It did not have the singleness of devotion or the wary wisdom that saturated the minds of the True Men.

  Then Charls remembered something. His parents had once told him of a mind that was something like this one.

  Juli continued to pour out her thoughts like sparks from a fire, like raindrops from a big splash. Charls was frightened and did not know what to do; and Oda began to turn away from the strange girl.

  Then Charls perceived it. Juli was frightened. She was calling them puppy-dog people to cover her fear. She really did not know where she was.

  He mused, not directing his thought at Juli: Just because she's frightened, it doesn't mean she has the right to think sharp, bright things at us.

  Perhaps it was his posture that betrayed his attitude; Juli seemed to catch the thought.

  Suddenly she burst into words again, words that they could not understand. It sounded as though she were begging, asking, pleading, expostulating. She seemed to be calling for specific persons or things. Words poured forth, and these were names that the True Men used. Was it her parents? Her lover? Her siblings? It had to be someone she had known before entering that screaming box, where she had been captive in the blue of the sky for . . . for how long?

  Suddenly she was quiet. Her attention had shifted.

  She pointed to the Fighting Trees.

  The sunset had so darkened that the trees were beginning to light up. The soft fire was coming to life as it had during all the years of Charls's life and those of his forefathers.

  As she pointed, Juli made words again. She kept repeating them. It sounded like v-a-s-i-s-d-a-s.

  Charls could not help being a little irritated. Why doesn't she just think? It was odd that they could not read her mind when she was using the words.

  Again, although Charls had not aimed the question at her, Juli seemed to catch it. From her there came a flame of thought, a single idea, that leapt like a fountain of fire from that tired little female head:

  What is this world?

  Then the thought shifted focus slightly. Vati, Vati, where am I? Where are you? What has become of me? There was something forlorn and desolate to it.

  Oda put out a soft hand toward the girl. Juli looked at her and some of the harsh, fearful thoughts returned. Then the sheer compassion of Oda's posture seemed to catch Juli's attention, and with relaxation came complete collapse. The great and terrifying thought disappeared. Juli burst into tears. She put her long arms about Oda. Oda patted her back and Juli sobbed even harder.

  Out of the sobbing came a funny, friendly thought, loving and no longer contemptuous: Dear little puppy dogs, dear little puppy dogs, please help me. You are supposed to be our best friends . . . do help me now. . . .

  Charls perked up his ears. Something—or someone—was coming over the top of the hill.

  Certainly a thought as big and as sharp as Juli's could attract all living forms within kilometers. It might even catch the attention of the aloof but ominous True Men.

  A moment later Charls relaxed. He recognized the stride of his parents. He turned to Oda.

  "Hear that?"

  She smiled. "It's father and mother. They must have heard that big thought the girl had."

  Charls watched with pride as his parents approached. It was a well-justified pride. Bil and Kae both appeared, as they were, sensitive and intelligent. In addition, their fur was well-matched. Bil's beautiful caramel coat had spots of white and black only along his cheekbones and nose and at the tip of his tail; Kae was a uniform fawn-beige with which her beautiful green eyes made a striking contrast.

  "Are you both all right?" Bil asked as they approached. "Who is that? She looks like a True Man. Is she friendly? Has she hurt you? Was she the one who was doing all that violent thinking? We could feel it clear across the hillside."

  Oda burst into a giggle. "You ask as many questions as I do, Daddy."

  Charls said, "All we know is that a box came from the sky and that she was in it. You heard that shrieking noise as it came down first, didn't you?"

  Kae laughed. "Who didn't hear it?"

  "The box hit right over there. You can see where it hurt the hillside."

  The area where the box had landed was black and forbidding. Around it the fallen Fighting Trees gleamed in tangled confusion on the ground.

  Bil looked at Juli and shook his head. "I don't see why she wasn't killed if it hit that hard."

  Juli began to speak in words again, but at last she seemed to understand. Shouting her language would not help any. Instead, she thought: Please, dear little puppy dogs. Please help me. Please understand me.

  Bil kept his dignity but he noticed with dismay that his tail was wagging of its own accord. He realized that the urge was uncontrollable. He felt both resentful and happy as he thought back at her: Of course we understand you and we'll try to help you; but please don't think your thoughts so hard or so recklessly. They hurt our minds when they are so bright and sharp.

  Juli tried to turn down the intensity of her thought. She pleaded: Take me to Germany.

  The four Unauthorized Men—mother, father, daughter, and son—looked at each other. They had no idea of what a Germany might be.

  It was Oda who turned to Juli, girl to girl, and spieked: Think some Germany at us so we can know what it is.

  There came forth from the strange girl images of unbelievable beauty. Picture after clear picture emerged until the little family was almost blinded by the magnificence of the display. They saw the whole ancient world come to life. Cities stood bright in a green-encircled world. There were no aloof and languid True Men; instead, all the people they saw in Juli's mind resembled Juli herself. They were vital, sometimes fierce, forceful; they were tall, erect, long-fingered; and of course they did not have the tails of the Unauthorized Men. The children were pretty beyond belief.

  The most amazing thing about this world was the tremendous number of people in it. The people were thicker than the birds of passage, more crowded than the salmon at running time.

  Charls had thought himself a well-traveled young man. He had met at least four dozen other persons besides his own family, and he had seen True Men in the skies above him hundreds of times. He had often witnessed the intolerable brightness of Cities and had walked around them more than once until, each time, he had been firmly assured that there was no way for him to enter. He thought his valley a good one. In a few more years he would be old enough to visit the nearby valleys and to look for a wife for himself.

  But this vision that came from Juli's mind . . . he could not imagine how so many people could live together. How could they all greet each other in the mornings? How could they all agree on anything? How could they all ever become still enough to be aware of each other's presence, each other's needs?

  There came a particularly strong, bright image. Small-wheeled boxes were hurtling people at insensate speed up and down smooth, smooth roads.

  "So that's what roads were fo
r," he gasped to himself.

  Among the people he saw many dogs. They were nothing like the creatures of Charls's world. They were not the long, otter-like animals whom the Unauthorized Men despised as lowly kindred; nor were they like the Unauthorized Men themselves, and they were certainly not like those modified animals who in appearance were almost indistinguishable from True Men. No, these dogs of Juli's world were bounding, happy creatures with few responsibilities. There seemed to be an affectionate relationship between them and the people there. They shared laughter and sorrow.

  Juli had closed her eyes as she tried to bring Germany to them. Concentrating hard, now she brought into the picture of beauty and happiness something else—fearful flying things that dropped fire; thunder and noise; a most unpleasant face, a screaming face with a dab of black fur above the mouth; a licking of flame in the night; a thunder of death machines. Across this thunder there was the image of Juli and two other girls who resembled her; they were moving with a man, obviously their father, toward three iron boxes that looked like the one Juli had landed in. Then there was darkness.

  That was Germany.

  Juli slumped to the ground.

  Gently the four of them probed at her mind. To them it was like a diamond, as clear and transparent as a sunlit pool in the forest, but the light it shot back to them was not a reflection. It was rich and bright and dazzling. Now that it was at rest, they could see deeply into it. They saw hunger, hurt, and loneliness. They saw a loneliness so great that each of them in turn tried to think of a way to assuage it. Love, they thought, what she needs is love, and her own kind. But where would they find an Ancient One? Would a True Man answer?

  Bil said, "There's only one thing to do. We've got to take her to the house of the Wise Old Bear. He has communications with the True Men."

  Oda cried out, "But she hasn't done anything wrong!"

  Her father looked at her. "Darling, we don't know what this is. She's an Ancient One come back to this world after a sleep in space itself. It's been thousands of years since her world lived; I think she's beginning to realize that, and that's what put her into shock. We need help. Our people may once have been dogs, and that's what she thinks we are. We can't let that bother us. But she needs a house, and the only unauthorized house that I know of belongs to the Wise Old Bear."

  Charls looked at his parents. His eyes were troubled. "What is this business about dogs? Is that why we feel so mixed up when we think about True Men? I'm confused about her too. Do you suppose I really want to belong to her?"

  "Not really," his father said. "That's just a feeling left over from long, long ago. We lead our own lives now. But this girl, she's too big a problem for us. We will take her to the Bear. At least he has a house."

  Juli was still unconscious, and to them she was so big. Each took a limb and with difficulty they managed to carry her. Within less than a tenth of a night they had reached the house of the Wise Old Bear. Fortunately they had not met any manshonyaggers or other dangers of the forest.

  At the door of the house of the Wise Old Bear they gently laid the girl on the ground.

  Bil shouted, "Bear, Bear, come out, come out!"

  "Who is there?" a voice boomed from within.

  "Bil and his family. We have an Ancient with us. Come out. We need your help."

  The light that had been streaming from the doorway with a yellow glare was suddenly reduced to endurable proportions as the immense bulk of the Bear loomed in the doorway before them.

  He pulled his spectacles from a case attached to his belt, put them on his nose, and squinted at Juli.

  "Bless my soul," he said. "Another one. Where on earth did you get an ancient girl?"

  Pompous but happy, Charls spoke up. "She came out of the sky in a screaming box."

  The Bear nodded wisely.

  Then Bil spoke up. "You said 'another one.' What did you mean?"

  The Bear winced slightly. "Forget I said that," he told them. "I forgot for a moment that you are not True Men. Please forget it."

  Bil said, "You mean it's something Unauthorized Men are not supposed to know about?"

  The Bear nodded unhappily.

  Understanding, Bil said, "Well, if you can ever tell us about it, will you, please?"

  "Of course," the Bear replied. "And now I think I'd better call my housekeeper to take care of her. Herkie, Herkie, come here."

  A blonde woman appeared, peering anxiously. Obviously there was something the matter with her blue eyes but she seemed to be functioning adequately.

  Bil backed away from the door. "That's an Experimental person," he said. "That's a cat!"

  The Bear was completely uninterested. "So it is, but you can see that her eyes are imperfect. That's why she is allowed to be my housekeeper and why her name isn't prefaced by a C'."

  Bil understood. The errors True Men made in trying to breed Underpersons were often destroyed but occasionally one was allowed to live if it seemed able to function at some necessary task. The Bear had connections with True Men. If he needed a housekeeper, an imperfect modified animal provided an ideal solution.

  Herkie bent over Juli's still form. She peered in puzzlement at Juli's face. Then she looked up at the Bear. "I don't understand," she said. "I don't see how it could be."

  "Later," the Bear said. "When we are alone."

  Herkie strained to see into the darkness and perceived the dog family. "Oh, I see," she said.

  Bil and Charls were embarrassed. Oda and Kae did not seem to notice the slight.

  Bil waved his hand. "Well, good-bye. I hope you can take care of her all right."

  "Thank you for bringing her," the Bear said. "The True Men will probably give you a reward."

  In spite of himself, Bil felt his tail beginning to wag again.

  "Will we ever see her again?" Oda asked. "Do you think we'll ever see her again? I love her, I love her. . . ."

  "Perhaps," her father answered. "She will know who saved her, and I think she will seek us out."

  Juli awoke slowly. Where am I? What is this place? She had a partial return of memory. The puppy-dog people. Where are they? She felt conscious of someone at her bedside. She looked up into clouded blue eyes staring anxiously into hers.

  "I'm Herkie," the woman said. "I'm the Bear's housekeeper."

  Juli felt as though she had awakened in a mental hospital. It was all so impossible. Puppy-dog people and now a bear? And surely the blonde woman with the bad eyes was not a human?

  Herkie patted her hand. "Of course you're confused," she said.

  Juli was taken aback. "You're talking! You're talking and I understand you. You're talking German. We're not just communicating telepathically."

  "Of course," Herkie said. "I speak true Doych. It's one of the Bear's favorite languages."

  "One of . . ." Juli broke off. "It's all so confusing."

  Again Herkie patted her hand. "Of course it is."

  Juli lay back and looked at the ceiling. I must be in some other world.

  No, Herkie thought at her, but you've been gone a long time.

  The Bear came into the room. "Feeling better?" he asked.

  Juli merely nodded.

  "In the morning we will decide what to do," he said. "I have some connections with the True Men, and I think that we had best take you to the Vomact."

  Juli sat up as if hit by a bolt of lightning. "What do you mean, 'the Vomacht'? That is my name, vom Acht!"

  "I thought it might be," the Bear said. Herkie, peering at her from the bedside, nodded wisely.

  "I was sure of it," she said. Then, "I think you need some good hot soup and a rest. In the morning it will all straighten itself out."

  The tiredness of years seemed to settle in Juli's bones. I do need to rest, she thought. I need to get things sorted out in my mind. So suddenly that she did not even have a chance to be startled by it, she was asleep.

  Herkie and the Bear studied her face. "There's a remarkable resemblance," the Bear said. Herkie nodded in a
greement. "It's the time differential I'm worried about. Do you think that will be important?"

  "I don't know," Herkie replied. "Since I'm not human, I don't know what bothers people." She straightened and stretched to her full length. "I know!" she said. "I do know! She must have been sent here to help us with the rebellion!"

  "No," the Bear said. "She has been too long in Time for her arrival to have been intentional. It is true that she may help us, she may very well help us, but I think that her arrival at this particular time and place is fortuitous rather than planned."

  "Sometimes I think I understand a particular human mind," Herkie said, "but I'm sure you're correct. I can hardly wait for them to meet each other!"

  "Yes," he said, "although I'm afraid that it's going to be rather traumatic. In more than one way."

  * * *

  When Juli awoke after her deep sleep, she found a thoughtful Herkie awaiting her.

  Juli stretched and her mind, still uncontrolled, asked: Are you really a cat?

  Yes, Herkie thought back at her. But you are going to have to discipline that thought process of yours. Everyone can read your thoughts.

  I'm sorry, Juli spieked, but I'm just not used to all this telepathy.

  "I know." Herkie had switched to German.

  "I still don't understand how you know German," Juli said.

  "It's rather a long story. I learned it from the Bear. I think, perhaps, you had better ask him how he learned it."

  "Wait a minute. I'm beginning to remember what happened before I fell asleep. The Bear mentioned my name, my family name, vom Acht."

  Herkie switched the subject. "We've made you some clothes. We tried to copy the style of those you had on, but they were coming to pieces so badly that we are not sure we got the new ones right."

  She looked so anxious to please that Juli reassured her immediately. If they fit, I'm sure they'll be just fine.