West Of The Sun

by Edgar Pangborn

  4

  Moist heat pressed down, but the air of the meadow was sweet. Therewere marks of trampling as well as the swath the boat had cut--trails,places where something might have crouched. Under his breath Wrightasked, "Feel all right, Paul?"

  Truth was more needed than a show of courage. "Not perfect, Doc. Am Iflushed? You are, a little."

  "Yes. Trace of fever; may wear off. Here's something----"

  They had not come far. Two red bodies barely three feet tall sprawlednear each other face down in the grass. Paul noticed oval bulgesbetween shoulder blades modified to accommodate them, the pathos offingers--seven-fingered hands--holding earth in a final grasp. Themale wore a loincloth of black fabric and a quiver almost full ofarrows; the female had a grass skirt, and her hand was tight on astone-headed spear longer than herself. A bow of carved wood lay somedistance away; one could see how the little man had crawled in hisagony after the bow was lost. Wright turned them over gently--baldskulls, no trace of body hair on skin of a rich copper color excitingto a painter's vision, green eyes with no visible whites in humanfaces heavily tattooed, wide-open eyes, accusing no one. The bodieswere in rigor, a shaft in the man's neck, the woman pierced by anarrow in the side. Blood colored the grass, dry but eloquent.

  "War too," said Wright, and pulled out the arrows, showing Paul thestone heads, the intricate carving of the wood, thin-whittled woodenvanes taking the place of feathers. "Stone Age war...."

  The male pygmy was the smaller of the two, and softer, his shape notfeminine but rounded and smooth. Both seemed mature, so far as agecould be guessed at all. The woman was rugged, with a coarser skin andthe scar tissue of old wounds; her two pairs of breasts were scarcelymore prominent than the ridged muscles of her midget chest.

  Wright mulled it over, kneading his wrinkled throat. "Physicalrefinements of evolution as far along as our own. Straight thigh andneck, perfect upright posture; there was no slouch or belly sag whenthey were on their feet. Human jaw, big brain case. That furry giant Isaw in the woods had complete upright posture too. Oh, it's natural,Paul. You stick fins on an ocean vertebrate, turn him into afour-legged land animal, give him a few hundred million years. Almostbound to free his front limbs if they've stayed unspecialized." In thegaunt face, sadness and pity struggled with a bitter sort of mirth."The brain gets large, boy, and away you go, to--ach--to theFederation versus the Asian Empire--Lincoln, Rembrandt, the statepapers of Abraham Brown. And to you and Dorothy and the baby." Wrightstood erect, brushing bony knees, calm again. "I'm almost pleased tofind it this primitive. I don't think it can have gone furtheranywhere on the planet, or we'd have seen cities, farms, roads, in thephotographs. Unless----"

  "Unless what, Doctor?"

  "Oh--unless there might be forms with no Earth parallel. In theforests perhaps--even underground. Thought of that? But that'sspeculations, and our little soldiers here are fact. They have acivilization--arrows say so, tattooing, garments. Rigid,tradition-bound--or maybe not, depending on how much language they'vedeveloped to tie 'emselves in knots with."

  "Bow and arrow--why, suh, almost as advanced as not being afraid toend a sentence with a preposition."

  "Hell with you. Twenty thousand years ago, or whenever it was wereached our present physique, if there'd been anything external toteach men how to behave like grown-ups----. Well, we had to sweat itout--tribal wars, bigger wars, venerated fears, errors, andstupidities. But maybe here----"

  "Are _we_ big enough?"

  Wright shut his eyes. His thin cheeks were too bright; there was atremor in the rifle tip. "Wish I knew, Paul. We have to try."

  Ed Spearman yelled, "Look out!" A rifle banged, and a pistol.

  A brown darkness had come swooping from the lake. Othersfollowed--mud-brown, squealing. They had banked at the noise of theshots to circle overhead. Paul fired; a near one tumbled, screeching,thrashing a narrow wolfish head on a long neck, black teeth snappingin the death throes--but even now it was trying to hobble forward andget at them. The others wheeled lower until Wright's rifle spoke, andSpearman's; there was the dry slap of Dorothy's automatic pistol."Back to the trees!" The wounded thing on the ground set up a bubblinghowl.

  More were coming, with weaving of pointed red-eyed heads on mobilenecks. Paul ran, Wright loping beside him, hearing the crash of theirfriends' weapons. Something slammed Paul's shoulder, flopped againsthis leg, tripping him. He tumbled over a shape furry and violent thatsmelled of fish and carrion. He fought clear of it, sobbing in animalwrath, and reached the shelter of the trees and Dorothy's embrace.Sweat blinded him. Wright was clutching him too, getting his jacketoff.

  "Flesh wound. The hind foot got you----"

  "I saw it." Ann Bryan choked. "Saw it happen. Filthy claws----"

  Wright had a bottle of antiseptic. "Son, you ain't going to like this.Hang on to the lady." But the pain was a welcome flare. Paul's eyescleared as Wright made him a bandage of gauze, with Dorothy's help. Hecould look from the shelter of overhanging branches at a confusion ofwings. The creatures had not followed as far as the lifeboat; perhapsits shining mass disturbed them.

  Spearman groaned: "You _would_ go out."

  Wright snapped at him. "Camp in the open--some disadvantages----"

  "Granted. But you sure learned it the hard way." "Eating"--Annpointed, nauseated--"their own wounded--"

  Wright stepped between her and the loud orgy in the meadow. "Wingspread, fifteen feet. Well--sky's bad, woods maybe. What do yousuggest?"

  "Clear underbrush," Spearman said, "so we can see into the woods. Pileit just beyond this overhang of branches for a barrier, leave a spaceso we can reach the lifeboat. We can get to the lake for water withoutgoing much in the open."

  "Good," said Wright. A peace offering. Spearman smiled neutrally.

  "If the water's safe," said Sears Oliphant.

  Wright grinned at the fat man. "Pal, it better be."

  "Miracles?" Sears' shoulders shot up amiably. "We can hope it is, withboiling. Gotta have it. Canteens won't last the day, in this heat."

  Paul helped Ed unpack tools from the lifeboat. "One sickle," Spearmannoted. "No scythe. Garden gadgets. Pruning shears. One ax, one damnedhatchet. No scythe, no scythe----. There were two or three on theship."

  "Maybe the lake's not so deep."

  "Maybe we'll play hell trying to find out too. Those things weren'tmuch scared by the shooting...."

  Hot, tedious work created a circle of clear shaded ground which mustbe called home. A fire was boiling lake water in the few aluminumvessels. It had a fishy, mud-bottom taste and could not be cooled, butit eased thirst. Paul had glimpsed Ann in the lifeboat, opening herviolin case, closing it, sick-faced. He had marveled again at themystery of a Federation governing two-thirds of a world, which hadgenially allowed a fourteen-year-old musician to carry her violin onman's greatest venture--with enough strings to last two or three yearsand no means of restringing the bow. Later Ann threw herself into thelabor of clearing brush but tired quickly from her own violence.Sears' microscope occupied a camp table; Paul and Dorothy joined himin a pause for rest. "Got anything for the local news-paper?"

  "Unboiled lake water-assorted wrigglers." Sears mopped his cheeks."'Twas never meant my name should be Linnaeus. Have a look." The worldon the slide seemed not unlike what Sears had once shown him in waterfrom the hydroponics room of _Argo_: protoplasmic abundance no mindcould grasp. "So far, nothing basically different from what you'd findin lake water on Earth--except for the trifle that every species isunknown, hey? I suppose that's why they heaved a taxonomist intospace, to see what the poor cluck would do, hey? Now, those red dotsare something like algae. Notice a big ciliated schlemihl blunderingaround? He could almost be old man paramecium, oh my, yes. Gi'me yoursickle, muscle man."

  "Hot work, Jocko. Take it slow and easy."

  "Believe me, Mistuh Mason, I will. What----"

  In undergrowth beyond the clearing there was deep-throated fury, acrashing of branches. A gray and white man shape staggered out ofcon
cealment, wrenching at what looked like swollen black rope. But therope had a head, gripping the giant's forearm; a black loop circledthe giant's loins and his free arm, tearing and pounding, could notloosen it. A saurian hind leg groped, hooking for purchase into grayfur.

  Paul's hunting knife was out; there was time only for recognition. Thegray and white being was everything human caught in a coil. Paulforced himself through a barrier of fear, hearing Wright yell, "Don'tshoot, Ed! Put that away." There was no shot. Paul knew he was betweenSpearman and the confusion of combat; someone was blundering behindhim. A black reptilian tail stretched into bushes, grasping somethingfor anchorage. Paul slashed at that. The mass of heaving life rolledon the ground as the giant lost his footing, serpent teeth stillburied in his forearm. Green eyes were pleading in a universallanguage.

  Wright was clutching a black neck, with no strength to move it, andPaul stabbed at scaled hide behind a triangular head, but the skin waslike metal. The forelimbs were degenerate vestiges, the hind legscruelly functional. At last the steel penetrated; Paul twisted it,probing for a brain. The giant had ceased struggling; the furred facewas close. Paul could feel the difficult breath, sense a rigidwaiting.... The teeth let go. The giant leaped free, returning at oncewith a stone the size of Paul's chest, to fling it down on theslow-dying body, repeating the action till his enemy was a smear ofblack and red.

  Now in returning quiet a furred man eight feet tall watched themopenly. Wright said, "Ed, put away that gun. This man is a friend."

  "Man!" Spearman holstered his automatic, ready for a draw. "Yourdaydreams will kill us all yet."

  "Smile, all of you--maybe his mouth does the same thing." Wrightstepped to the trembling monster, hands open. Ann was sobbing inreaction, smothering the sound. Wright pointed at himself. "Man." Hetouched the gray fur. "Man...."

  The giant drew back, not with violence. Paul felt Dorothy's smallfingers shivering on his arm. The giant sucked his wound and spat,turning his head away from Wright to do it. "Man--man...." Wright'shand, small and pale as an oyster shell, spread beside the huge palm,six fingers, long four-jointed thumb. "Paul--your first-aid kit. Iwant just the gauze."

  Spearman said, "Are you crazy?"

  "It's a chance," Sears Oliphant said in a level, careful voice. "Docknows what he's doing. Ed, you should know you can't stop him."

  Wright was pointing to Paul's bandaged shoulder and to the giant'swound. The high furred forehead puckered in obvious effort. Dorothywas choking on a word or two: "Doc--must you--"

  "He knows we're friends. He's been watching a long time. He saw Paulget hurt and then bandaged." The giant's trembling was only aspasmodic shuddering. "Man--man...." Wright snipped off gauze. "And heknows that thing is a weapon, Ed. Will you put it away?"

  "He could break you in two. You know that, don't you?"

  "But he won't. Give protoplasm a chance." Now Wright was winding gauzelightly, firmly, hiding the already clotting blood, and the giant madeno move of rejection. "Man--man."

  "Man." The giant murmured it cautiously, prolonging the vowel; hetouched his chest. "_Essa kana._" A finger ran exploringly over thegauze.

  "Essa kana--man," said Wright, and swayed on his feet.

  The giant pointed at the bloody mess on the ground and rumbled:"_Kawan_." He shuddered, and his arm swept in a loose gesture thatappeared to indicate the curving quarter mile where lake and junglemet each other in a black-water marsh. Then he was staring out,muttering, at the wings in the meadow, and presently he touched Paul'sbandage with fantastic lightness. "_Omasha_," he said, pointing at theflying beasts. He indicated the rifle wobbling in Sears' arm and heldup two fingers. "Omasha."

  "Yes, we killed two omasha. Sears-man. Paul-man. Wright-man."

  The giant rumpled his chest fur. "Mijok."

  "Mijok-man.... Mijok, why didn't I have you in Anthropology IA fifteenyears ago? We'd've cleaned up the joint." Mijok knew laughter; hisbooming in response to Wright's tone and smile could mean nothingelse. But Wright staggered and was breathing hard. Dorothy whispered,"Paul--"

  It could not be pushed aside any more--the pain separate from thesmart of his shoulder, tightness in the eyeballs, chill, nausea. "Theair--"

  Wright's knees buckled. Sears had dropped the rifle and was helpinghim to the lifeboat, Paul watching the action in a daze of stupidity.Wright's eyes had gone empty.... Paul was uncertain how he himselfcame to be sitting on the ground. Dorothy's face was somewhere; hetouched it. Her brown cheek was fire-hot, and she was trying to speak."Paul--take care of you--always--"

  The face of Mijok was there too--red vapor turning black.