The 19th Golden Age of Science Fiction

by Charles V. De Vet

  “I’m certain that the pleasure is more mine than yours,” Tang said, responding to the other’s display of lightness.

  “Won’t you come in?” Lutscher asked. “Perhaps I can give you a drink? I have saved a bottle just for this momentous occasion.”

  Tang acknowledged the invitation with a nod of his head. They walked into the hut together. Lutscher had evidently brought most of the movable furniture from his space ship with him, Tang observed, for the room was quite well furnished.

  “Be careful not to stumble over Bunzo,” Lutscher said, nodding toward a side wall of the room. Tang followed his gaze and saw that Bunzo was one of the dough ball pets that seemed so universal here. But Bunzo was as large as an average-sized dog.

  Strangely, while the little pets had intrigued Tang, he found this one repulsive. It lay sprawled on the floor of the hut, its body gross and over-fed, looking up at Tang with little pig eyes, mean and quiet. On one side of its white skin was a dark patch shaped like a fist.

  “He’s a repulsive looking brute,” Tang said.

  “Isn’t he though?” Lutscher agreed. “But he’s company, and he has his uses.” Lutscher laughed: He was a laughing man. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything I can think of offhand,” he said as he turned to a row of boxes piled against the far wall of the hut. “Now let’s see. Which box is it in? Ah, here it is.”

  He turned and found himself staring at the pistol in Tang’s hand. “I’m afraid we’ll have to reverse the roles,” Tang said. “I’ll be the host—in my ship.”

  Lutscher seemed genuinely surprised. He staggered back a step and sank heavily into a chair next to his pet. He held the bottle of whiskey in his lap with one hand, while the other idly stroked the blubbery head of the drowsing Bunzo. “For a minute I’d forgotten,” he said, recovering his composure. “You still think that you can take me away from here, don’t you? But of course you can’t understand yet that the cards are stacked against you.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to take with you when we leave?” Tang asked.

  “It won’t work, Sammy,” Lutscher warned.

  “On your feet,” Tang said.

  Lutscher rose without hesitation and walked to the door ahead of Tang. Outside they found a dozen of the natives waiting. Others were coming up fast. They blocked the way with their bodies.

  “You might kill a few of them,” Lutscher said, “but you’ll never get away.”

  It took Tang only a second to weigh the odds and make his decision. “It looks like the first round is yours,” he said, putting up his gun.

  They walked back into the hut and sat down. “Tell me,” Tang said. “Am I a prisoner?”

  “Not at all,” Lutscher answered. “You may leave anytime you like. But you can’t take me with you.”

  Tang eased himself down on the cot Lutscher offered and sat in deep introspection. But not for long. He decided quickly that he must learn more about the present set-up before he made his next move. Perhaps he could get the information he needed from Lutscher. “What’s the deal here, Bill?” he asked. “Have they set you up as some sort of demi-god?”

  Lutscher seemed eager to talk. “Part of the deal, as you call it, will have to remain my secret,” he said. “I’d be a fool to show you all my cards. But ask any questions you care to. I’ll answer some of them at least.”

  “All right. How did you get word to your friends to stop me when I started out with you? Or did you station them outside your door when I first came?”

  Lutscher shook his head. “I didn’t, and, as you can see, they aren’t there now. But just try to take me out of here and they’ll be back before you can walk two steps. Incidentally, they call themselves mahutes. The stick-insects are ankites, and the pets, like Bunzo here, are clobers. Now you know the names of the only denizens of this world I’ve seen so far.”

  “How did you know about this place?”

  “In my business you either have something like this in reserve up your sleeve, or the long arm of the law, represented by yourself, my friend, will soon pull you in. Enough to say that I learned about it from someone who had been here. I’ll confess, though, that I had my anxious moments coming in. I was afraid that the information I had about the place might have been, ah…colored, by the imagination of my informer. But, as you can see, it turned out to be a very delightful place.”

  “You know I’ll never leave without you, don’t you?” Tang asked abruptly. “Why haven’t you had me killed?”

  “At first I planned that,” Lutscher answered with friendly frankness. “But after I investigated the situation, and understood it, I saw no reason to do so. In fact, I have strong hopes of convincing you to stay here of your own free will.”

  “You must have picked up a touch of madness somewhere along the line if you think that.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Lutscher said, growing very earnest. “Look at me. What kind of a man do you see?”

  “I see nothing except the man I’m going to bring in for trial.”

  “You must have my record,” Lutscher said, disregarding the reply. “And you’ve probably studied it and my characteristics until you know me better than I know myself. Remember them? I’m the highstrung, hypertension, ulcer type of guy. A doctor told me once that my metabolism burns too fast.

  “I’ve gotten into most of my trouble because of an inner drive too great for my own good. I always had to try to change the status quo, to incite unrest and rebellion among the natives of the occupied worlds, to steal the unstealable, to pit one world against another. Is that the kind of man you’re seeing now?”

  “No, it isn’t,” Tang said thoughtfully. “I’d best describe you now as a contented man. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you hadn’t a care in the world.”

  “And you’d be right,” Lutscher said, leaning forward in his desire to emphasize his sincerity. “You haven’t been here long enough to feel it, but this planet does something to you. I don’t know what it is. I’ve gained twenty pounds in the two months I’ve been here. I’ve lost my unrest, my drive to change things. I’m happy now. Why should I want to return to the outside where life is like a thin crust that you walk on carefully, always afraid of breaking through? And some morning you’ll wake up and you’ll have the key, the answer to the universe, and you won’t want to leave either.”

  “I’ve wondered briefly about you, myself,” Tang said. “And I’ll admit you’re not the type of man I expected to find. But I’ve formed conclusions different than yours. And I don’t envy you. A dope addict has the same feeling you have when he’s under the influence of the drug. But I don’t envy him. What have you been eating since you’ve been here? Anything at all native to this planet?”

  Lutscher nodded. “You may be right about that,” he said. “I’m not so stupid that I’ve missed thinking of it myself. At first I thought the good feeling might be just the lethargy induced by the atmosphere’s high oxygen content and the greater gravity.

  “But my final conclusion was pretty much the same as yours. During the past month and a half I’ve lived exclusively on the diet of the mahutes—that’s the shoots you saw one of them gathering. But what do I care about the source of my well-being? The only thing that concerns me is that it’s there.”

  “I’m afraid that to me the source would be more important,” Tang said, “and I’ll stick to my own food. Right now everything looks very rosy to you. But if it turns out that you’ve been eating a dangerous drug and it begins to wreck your system, how will it look then? Especially if you find that you can’t break the habit?”

  “But it’s not dangerous,” Lutscher insisted, “and I’ll prove it to you. Tomorrow we’ll take a stroll through the village. I’ll point out a few things that will surprise you. I presume you’ll be spending the night with me?”

  Tang nodded.

  III

  That night Tang slept with a guarded alertness. It was a part of him, which he could turn on and off, as the occasion dem
anded. Six hours after he dropped off to sleep he awoke, with all his senses alive and ready for action. Without moving he listened. Inside and outside the hut all was silent.

  Rising quietly he drew his gun and walked over to Lutscher’s cot. He shook the sleeping figure.

  “What…?” Lutscher asked sleepily, sitting up.

  “We’re going to try it again,” Tang said. “Get dressed. Quietly.”

  “Get dressed?” Lutscher’s brain was still sleep-clogged. “Why? Oh, I get it” he answered himself. “You think you can take me away while the mahutes are sleeping. Well, I suppose the only way you can find out is by trying.”

  “Don’t waste time,” Tang snapped.

  Lutscher rolled out of bed and began pulling on his trousers. Over in the corner Bunzo grunted, and stirred uneasily.

  “I’m ready,” Lutscher said a minute later.

  “You’d better put on your shoes,” Tang said.

  “I assure you I won’t need them,” Lutscher answered. Behind the words Tang could sense his silent laughter.

  Outside they found that the first streaks of dawn were breaking over the river. They walked fifty feet before one of the mahutes shuffled out of a hut ahead of them. Another came from their right, and behind them they heard two more running toward them.

  “There’ll be more waiting for us up ahead,” Lutscher said. “Are you going to try to shoot your way through them?”

  Tang let his shoulders droop. “We’ll go back to the hut,” he said.

  “You think you’ve won again,” he told Lutscher, once they were there. “But I had a double purpose in taking our little trip. I think I know now how you communicate with your friends.”

  Lutscher glanced up. “You do?”

  “Yes. Of the three species here only the clobers have vocal chords. I suspect the others are deaf as well as mute. Therefore, they either have a symbiosis among themselves, which you’ve somehow learned to penetrate, or their communication is telepathic.”

  “Good boy,” Lutscher said enthusiastically. He seemed to harbor no resentment. “I’ll admit you figured it out faster than I did,” he said. “But I knew you would in time. And I allowed for that. You’re right. All life on the planet, as far as I have been able to learn, is telepathic. But I still have the advantage. You don’t know how to contact them. And I don’t think you ever will find out.”

  “You’re stupid if you think that.” Despite himself Tang found that he was losing his temper. The man was so cocksure, and so far so untouchable. “It may take me time but I’ll find it. I’ll lay you odds on that.”

  “Yes, I guess you will,” Lutscher said thoughtfully. “Sammy, you’re like a bulldog with a bone. You never let go, do you? I suppose I should admire that quality in you, but I find myself wondering if I shouldn’t have killed you when I first saw you.”

  “You probably should have,” Tang said. “Because from here in I’m going to make certain that you never get the chance. Right now we’re going to go through your things.”

  A motion of anger went over Lutscher’s face as he caught the implication of Tang’s words. “Damn you,” he said.

  “Get your boxes and dump them on your cot one at a time,” Tang said. “I’ll pick out what I want.”

  For a moment it seemed that Lutscher was going to be stubborn. But then, with a trait he had of moving his eyes and not turning his head, he glanced at the gun on Tang’s hip and shrugged. He rose to his feet and walked over to his pile of boxes.

  As Lutscher dumped the contents of each one on the cot Tang went through them and picked out what he wanted. At the end he had two pistols, a rifle, and several knives. “Now I’ll take the key to your ship,” he said.

  Wordlessly Lutscher reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain with a small key on the end. He tossed it on the cot.

  “I’ll leave you for awhile,” Tang said. “But I’ll be back. And if I get any interference from your friends I’ll kill them and you too. I don’t have to bring you back alive, you know.”

  * * * *

  Back at Lutscher’s space ship Tang spent an hour transferring the fuel remaining in Lutscher’s tanks to his own ship. When he finished his tanks were well over three-quarters full, more than enough to get him back to Gascol 11. He made no attempt to remove the weapons from Lutscher’s vessel. He had the key, and if Lutscher were able to get that away from him there would be no stopping him anyway.

  As he walked leisurely back to the village he wondered how Lutscher would receive him.

  Unexpectedly Lutscher appeared to bear no grudge. “I’ll admit I was a bit riled when you took my guns,” he said. “But I suppose it’s just the cop in you. And there’s no point in our carrying a grudge. After all, we’re the only humans on the planet and we’re going to be here a long time, so we might as well stay friends.”

  Tang nodded but made no reply.

  “Another thing,” Lutscher said. “You’ve missed an angle in your calculations. You think that if you can discover how I communicate with the mahutes you’ll be able to get your way. But once again you’ve underestimated me, my friend. The impression I’ve emphasized on them is that you’re a bit demented. You act illogically. You’re driven by compulsions that have to be restrained. And the mahutes are very susceptible.”

  Tang smiled. “You’re clever,” he said. “I’ll admit it. But some day not too long from now you and I will be heading back to civilization. I promise you that.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Lutscher answered. “Do you still want to take that trip through the village we were talking about last night?”

  “Why not?”

  They walked out of the hut and into the clouded sunlight of the outdoors. “Have you any idea just how intelligent the mahutes are?” Tang asked.

  “Very low quotient,” Lutscher answered. “In fact I’d say that most of their reactions were prompted by instinct rather than intelligence. They have approximately the same reasoning power as smart dogs.”

  “What else have you learned about them?”

  “Not too much,” Lutscher said. “But I’ve made a few surmises.” He seemed to have entirely dismissed from his mind the unpleasant morning occurrence. “Have you ever heard the word, androgynous?”

  “It refers to flowers, doesn’t it? Something about their being able to seed themselves without stamen from other flowers?”

  “That’s pretty much it,” Lutscher agreed. “I think that biologically the mahutes are the same as those flowers. Each possesses within himself the complete mechanism for self-fertilization. At least to me there’s no apparent sexual differences in any I’ve seen, or even evidence of reproductive organs.”

  “That’s interesting,” Tang said. “How about the clobers? Could there possibly be any biological connection between them and the mahutes? Without exception each mahute has one with him wherever he goes.”

  “That’s true,” Lutscher replied. “But I suppose they just like pets. By the way, we’ll have to stop here. We’re at the edge of the section where the ankites—the stick insects—live. It’s taboo territory.”

  For some reason Tang received the distinct impression that Lutscher had changed the subject to avoid speaking further of the clobers. In the back of his mind he filed that away for future reference. “Why should this area be taboo?” he asked. “The ankites seem to come and go among the mahutes without hindrance. Or is it taboo just to you and me?”

  “No. A mahute wouldn’t think of entering here. They have some deep fear of the place. What it is I don’t know. They don’t seem to fear the ankites themselves.”

  They turned and started back for their own section of the village. “There’s another thing that puzzles me,” Tang said. “That’s the sealed huts. What do you know about them?”

  “Nothing, except that about one in every three is sealed. I don’t know why. The strange part is that I’ve seen the mahutes sealing them with mud and sand from the river—that’s what the huts are made of origina
lly—and I’ve tried to investigate but they won’t let me near them then. I suppose it’ll be quite awhile before we fully understand the organization here.”

  “What do the ankites and the clobers eat?” Tang asked.

  “The same tree shoots that the mahutes eat,” Lutscher answered. “The mahutes gather it for them.”

  “Doesn’t that seem strange?” Tang asked. “Do you think there’s any possibility that the ankites are in control here? You said the mahutes weren’t very intelligent.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that before,” Lutscher answered. “But I don’t think so. I believe they’re simply two primitive species that have found the means of living together in mutual cooperation.”

  “Just what do the ankites contribute to that cooperation?”

  Lutscher shook his head. “You’ve got me.”

  “By the way, you were going to show me something that would explain your theory of well being.”

  “That’s right,” Lutscher said, “I was, wasn’t I? Well, this is it. Have you noticed that there are young mahutes, and middle aged ones, but none that are old? I’m convinced that the food here is the source of immortality!”

  “That’s absurd,” Tang said, startled at the other’s suggestion. “In the first place, how could you tell how old they are? Perhaps some of those you think are middle-aged are really old, or even ready to die.”

  “You know better than that,” Lutscher answered. “There are always signs of advanced age, such as slow movements, wrinkled skin, or bent figures, that can be read by anyone looking for them. Those signs are not present here. Furthermore, have you seen a dead mahute, or even one that was ill? Or anything that looks like a graveyard?”

  ”I haven’t,” Tang answered. “But that would prove nothing. I haven’t been here long enough to say that there aren’t any because I haven’t seen them. Neither have you. And naturally these people would have their own rituals for disposing of their dead. Perhaps the burying is done in secret.” Suddenly he stopped walking. “I have it,” he said. “The sealed huts! I’ll wager that’s their burial custom. When one of them dies the others seal his body in his hut.” For the time it took him to draw two deep breaths Lutscher seemed half convinced.