A, B, C

by Samuel R. Delany

  Urson scratched his head. “If it’s a choice between Snake and nothing, we better take Snake. Hey, Four Arms, I owe you a thrashing.” He paused, then laughed. “I hope someday I get a chance to give it to you. Sometimes you seem more trouble than you’re worth.”

  “Where have you been, anyway?” Geo asked. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re wet.”

  “Our water friends again?” suggested Urson.

  “Probably,” said Geo.

  Snake now held one hand toward Geo.

  “What’s that? Oh, you don’t want to keep them?”

  Snake shook his head.

  “All right,” said Geo. He took the jewels and put them around his neck again.

  “So that’s what our treasure can do,” said Iimmi.

  “And much more than that,” Geo told him. “Why don’t you take one, Iimmi? Maybe we better not keep them all together.”

  Iimmi shrugged. “I suppose it’s a lot of weight for one person. I’ll carry one of them.”

  Geo took the chain with the platinum claw from his neck and hung it around Iimmi’s. As they moved through the moon dapples, the jewel blinked like an eye in his black chest. Snake beckoned them to follow him. They stopped only to pick up swords from among the shriveled darkness. As they passed around the corner of the broken building, Geo looked for the corpse they had left there, but it was gone.

  “Where are we going?” asked Urson.

  Snake only motioned them on. They neared the broken cylinder and Snake scrambled up the rubble under the dark hole through which the man-wolf had leaped earlier that evening. They followed cautiously.

  At the door, Snake lifted the jewel from Geo’s neck and held it aloft. It glowed now; blue-green light seeped into the corners and crevices of the ruined entrance. Entering, they stood in a corridor lined with the metal frames of double seats from which ticking and upholstery had either rotted or been carried off by animals for nests. Shreds of cloth hung at the windows, most of which were broken. Twigs and rubbish littered the metal floor. They walked between the seats toward a door at the far end. Effaced signs still hung on the walls. Geo could distinguish only a few letters on one white-enameled but chipped and badly rusted plaque:

  n . . sm . k . . g

  “Do you know what language that is?” asked Iimmi.

  “I can’t make it out,” said Geo.

  The door at the end was ajar, and Snake opened it all the way. Something scuttered through a cracked window. The jewel’s light showed two seats broken from their fixtures. Vines covered the front window, in which only a few splinters of glass hung on the rim. Draped in rotten fabric, metal rings about wrists and ankles, two skeletons with silver helmets had fallen from the seats…perhaps five hundred years before. Snake pointed to a row of smashed glass disks in front of the broken seats.

  Radio…they heard in their minds.

  Now he reached down into the mess on the floor and dislodged a chunk of rusted metal. Gun…he said, showing it to Geo.

  The three men examined it. “What’s it for?” asked Urson.

  Snake shrugged.

  “Are there any electricities or diodes around?” asked Geo, remembering the words from before.

  Snake shrugged again.

  “Why did you want to show us all this?” Geo asked.

  The boy only started back toward the door. When they reached the oval entrance, about to climb down, Iimmi pointed to the ruins of the building ahead of them. “Do you know what that building was called?”

  Barracks…Snake said.

  “I know that word,” said Geo.

  “So do I,” said Iimmi. “It means a place where they used to keep soldiers together. It’s from one of the old languages.”

  “That’s right,” said Geo. “From when they had armies.”

  “Is this where the armies of Aptor are hidden?” Urson asked. “Those horrors we just got through?”

  “In there?” asked Geo. The broken edges were grayed now, blunted under the failing moon. “Perhaps. It sounded like they came from in there at first.”

  “Where to now?” Urson asked Snake.

  The boy only started back toward the door. They followed him into the denser wood, where pearls of light scattered the tree trunks. They emerged at the broad ribbon of silver, the river, broken by rocks.

  “We were right the first time,” Geo said. “We should have stayed here.”

  Ripple and slosh and the hiss of leaves along the forest edge—these accompanied them as they lay down on the dried moss behind the larger rocks. Boughs hung with moss and vines shaded moonlight from them. The weight of relief on them, they dropped, like stones down a well, into the bright pool of sleep—

  —

  —bright pool of silver growing and spreading and wrinkling into the shapes of mast, the deck rail, the powder-white sea beyond the ship. Down the deck another figure—gaunt, skeletal—approached. The features, distorted by whiteness and pulled to grotesquerie, were those of the Captain.

  Oh, Mate, the Captain said.

  Silence while Jordde gave an answer they couldn’t hear.

  Yes, answered the Captain. I wonder what she wants too. His voice was hollow, etoliated as a flower grown in darkness. The Captain knocked now on Argo’s cabin door. It opened, and they stepped in.

  The hand that opened the door was thin as winter twigs. The walls were draped in spider webs, hanging insubstantial as layered dust. The papers on top of the desk were tissue thin, threatening to scatter and crumble with a breath. The chandelier gave more languishing white smoke than light, and the arms, branches, and carved oil cups looked for all the world like a convocation of spiders.

  Argo’s pale voice sounded like thin webs tearing.

  So, she said. We will stay at least another seven days.

  But why? asked the Captain.

  I have received a sign from the sea.

  I do not wish to question your authority, Priestess…began the Captain.

  Then do not, interrupted Argo.

  My Mate has raised the objection that—

  Your Mate has raised his hand to me once, stated the Priestess. It is only my benevolence—here she paused, and her voice became unsure—that I do not…destroy him where he stands. Beneath her veil, her face might have been a skull’s.

  But—began the Captain.

  We wait here by the Island of Aptor another seven days, commanded Argo. She looked away from the Captain now, straight into the eyes of the Mate. From behind the veil, hate welled from the black sockets.

  They turned to go. On deck, they stopped to watch the sea. Waves like gray smoke swirled away; beyond that, at the horizon, a sharp tongue of land licked dark mountains. The cliffs were chalky on one side, streaked with red and blue clays on the other. There was a reddish glow beyond one peak, like a simmering volcano. Dark as most of it was, the black was backed with purple, or broken by the warm, differing grays of individual rocks. Even through the night, at this distance, beyond the silver crescent of the beach, the jungle looked rich, green even in the darkness, redolent, full, and quiveringly heavy with life—

  —

  Then the thin screams—

  chapter six

  Geo rolled over and out of sleep, stones and moss nibbling his shoulder. He grabbed his sword and was on his feet. Iimmi was also standing with raised blade. Dawn was white and gray through the trees. The air was chill, and the river slapped coldly behind them.

  The thin scream came again, like a hot wire drawn down the gelid morning. Snake and Urson were also up now. The sounds came from the direction of the ruined barracks. Geo started forward cautiously, curiosity pulling him toward the sound, fear pushing him from the relatively unprotected bank and into the woods. The others followed.

  Abruptly they reached the forest’s rim, beyond which was the clear space before the broken building. They crouched now behind the trees to watch, fascinated.

  Between ape and man, it hovered in the shadow of the wall. It wa
s Snake’s height, but Urson’s build. An animal pelt wrapped its middle and went over its shoulder, clothing it more fully than any of the four humans observing. Thick-footed, great-handed, it loped four steps across the clearing, uttered its piercing shriek, and fell on one of the beasts that had dropped from the sky last night, rolling its head back and forth as it tore at the corpse. Once, it raised its head and a sliver of flesh shook from its teeth before it fell again to devour.

  Suddenly another rushed from the forest. Halfway across the clearing, it stopped over a piece of fallen carnage ten feet from Geo’s hiding place. As it crouched before them, they watched the huge fingers upon broad flat palms, tipped with bronze claws, convulse again and again in the fibrous meat. The tusked mouth ripped.

  A third entered from the woods now, slowly. It was smaller than the others. Suddenly it sighted a slain body from the night’s encounter. It paused, stooped, then fell on the throat with bared teeth. Whether it was a breeze or a final reflex, Geo couldn’t tell: one of the membranous sails rose darkly and beat about the oblivious thing that fed.

  “Come on,” Urson whispered. “Let’s go.”

  A thin scream sounded, and they started.

  The first figure crouched apishly before them, head to the side, with deep, puzzled eyes blinking below the ridged brow. The clawed fingers opened and closed like breathing, and the shaggy head was knotted with dirt and twigs. The breath hissed from the faintly shifting, full lips.

  Urson reached for his sword, but Geo saw him and whispered, “No, don’t…” Geo extended his hand and moved slowly forward.

  The hulking form took a step back and mewed.

  Iimmi suddenly caught the idea. Coming up beside Geo, he made a quick series of snaps with his fingers and said in a coaxing, baby voice: “Come, come, come…”

  Geo laughed softly to Urson back over his shoulder. “It won’t hurt us.”

  “If we don’t hurt it,” added Iimmi. “It’s some sort of necrophage.”

  “A what?” asked Urson.

  “It only eats dead things,” Geo explained. “They’re mentioned in some of the old legends. Apparently, after the Great Fire, so the story goes, there were more of these things around than anything else. In Leptar, though, they became extinct.”

  “Come here, cutie,” said Iimmi. “Nice little, sweet little, pretty little thing.”

  It mewed again, bowed its head, came over and rubbed against Iimmi’s hip. “Smells like hell,” the black sailor observed, scratching behind its ear. “Watch out there, big boy!” The beast gave a particularly affectionate rub that almost upset Iimmi’s balance.

  “Leave your pet alone,” said Urson, “and let’s get going.”

  Geo patted the simian skull. “So long, beautiful.” They turned toward the river again.

  —

  As they emerged on the rocky bank, Geo said, “At least we know we have seven days to get to the Temple of Hama and back again.”

  “Huh?” asked Iimmi.

  “Don’t you remember the dream, back on the ship?”

  “You had the same dream too?”

  Geo put his arm around Snake’s shoulder. “Our friend here can relay other people’s thoughts to you while you sleep.”

  “Who was thinking that?” asked Iimmi.

  “Jordde, the First Mate.”

  “He makes everybody look dead. I thought I was having a nightmare. I could hardly recognize the Captain.”

  “You see one reason for believing Jordde’s a spy?”

  “Because of the way he sees things?” Again Iimmi smiled. “A poet’s reason, I’m afraid. But I see.”

  The thin shriek sounded behind them, and they turned to see the hulking form crouched on the rocks above them.

  “Uh-oh,” said Urson, “there’s your friend again.”

  “I hope we haven’t picked up a tagalong for the rest of the trip,” said Geo.

  It loped down over the rocks and stopped before them.

  “What’s it got?” Iimmi asked.

  “I can’t tell,” said Geo.

  Reaching into the bib of its pelt, it brought out a gray hunk of meat and held it toward them.

  Iimmi laughed. “Breakfast,” he said.

  “That?” demanded Urson.

  “Can you suggest anything better?” Geo asked. He took the meat from the beast’s claws. “Thanks.”

  It turned, looked back, and bounded up the bank and into the forest again.

  Geo turned the meat in his hands, examining it. “There’s no blood in it at all,” he said, puzzled. “It’s completely drained.”

  “That just means it’ll take longer to spoil,” said Iimmi.

  “I’m not eating any of that,” Urson stated.

  “Do you think it’s all right to eat, Snake?” Geo asked.

  Snake shrugged and then nodded.

  “Are you eating any?”

  Snake rubbed his belly and nodded again.

  “That’s enough for me,” said Geo.

  With fire from the jewels and wooden spits from the forest, they soon had the meat crackling and brown. Grease bubbled down its sides and hissed onto the hot stones they had used to rim the flame. Urson sat apart, sniffed, and then moved closer, and finally plowed big fingers across his hairy belly and grunted, “Damn it, I’m hungry!” They made room for him at the fire.

  Sun struck the tops of the trees for the first time that morning, and a moment later, light splashed concentric curves on the water, the gold stain spreading farther and farther.

  “I guess time’s getting on,” said Urson, tearing a greasy handful of meat. He ducked his head to lick the juice running down his wrist.

  “Well,” said Geo, “now we know we have two friends.”

  “Who?” asked Urson.

  “Up there.” Geo pointed back to where the ape-beast had disappeared in the forest. “And down there.” He pointed to the river.

  “I guess we do,” said Urson.

  “Which reminds me,” Geo continued, turning to Snake. “Where the hell were you before you got here last night? Come on, now, a little mind yelling.”

  Beach…said Snake.

  “And our fishy friends got you up here by way of the river after us?”

  Snake nodded.

  “How come we didn’t find you on the beach before when Urson and Iimmi and me got together?”

  Not…yet…get…there…Snake said.

  “Then where were you?”

  Ship…

  “You were back on the ship?”

  Not…on…ship…Snake said. Then he shook his head. Too…complicated…to…explain…

  “It can’t be that complicated,” said Geo. “Besides, even with all the help you’ve been, you’re under some pretty heavy suspicion.”

  Suddenly Snake stood up and motioned them to follow. They rose and followed him, Urson still chewing a mouthful of meat. As they scrambled up the bank again, back into the woods, Urson asked, “Where are we going now?”

  Snake merely beckoned them on, accompanied by a gesture to be silent. In a minute they were back in the clearing by the barracks. There was not a bone or body left. As they went, Geo glimpsed Urson’s fallen stave, dark with blood on one end. It lay alone in the leaves. Snake led them to the base of the ruined barracks. The sun was high enough to put yellow edges on the grass blades blowing against the wall. Snake paused once more, lifted the jewel from Iimmi’s neck, and made a light with it. A second time he cautioned silence and then stepped over the broken threshold of the first empty cubicle.

  They crossed the cracked cement floor to the black rectangle of another doorway. Snake stepped through. They followed. Just beyond the edge of the sunlight, in the artificial illumination from the jewel, huge rumpled black sacks hung close together along naked pipes of the exposed plumbing along the ceiling. They walked forward until they found one single sack more or less alone. Snake brought the light close to its bottom and waved it there.

  “Is he trying to tell us they can’t
see?” whispered Urson.

  They whirled on the big sailor, fingers against their lips. At the same time there was a rustling like wet paper from the sack as one wing defined itself, and in the uncovered upside-down face, a blind red eye blinked…then closed. The wing folded, and they tiptoed back across the chamber and into the sunlight. No one spoke until they could see the river again.

  “What were you—” began Geo; his voice sounded annoyingly loud. More softly he said, “What were you trying to tell us?”

  Snake pointed to Urson.

  “What he said? That they can’t see, just hear.”

  Snake nodded.

  “Gee, thanks,” said Geo. “I figured that out last night.”

  Snake shrugged.

  “That still doesn’t answer his questions,” said Iimmi.

  “And another one,” said Geo. “Why are you showing us all these things? You seem to know your way around awfully well. Have you ever been on Aptor before?”

  Snake paused for a moment. Then he nodded.

  They were all silent.

  Finally Iimmi asked, “What made you ask that?”

  “Something in that first theory,” Geo said. “I’ve been thinking it for some time. And I guess Snake here knew I was thinking it too. Jordde wanted to get rid of Iimmi, Whitey, and Snake, and it was just an accident that he caught Whitey first instead of Snake. He wanted to get rid of Whitey and Iimmi because of something they had seen or might have seen when they were on Aptor with Argo. I just thought perhaps he wanted to get rid of Snake for the same reason. Which meant he might have been on Aptor before.”

  “Jordde was on Aptor before too,” said Urson. “You said that’s when he became a spy for them.”

  They all looked at Snake again.

  “I don’t think we ought to ask him any more questions,” said Geo. “The answers aren’t going to do us any good, and no matter what we find out, we’ve got a job to do, and seven—no…six and a half days to do it in.”

  “I think you’re right,” said Iimmi.

  “You are more trouble than you’re worth,” Urson addressed the boy. “Get going.”

  Then Snake handed the metal chain with the pendant jewel back to Iimmi. The black youth hung it on his chest once more. They started up the river.