"Youblame the moons in the sky. _I_ say the moons are not to blame--nor thewinds--nor the Gods. The Gods send these things to men to test theirwits and to find if they have the will to master them!"
* * * * *
The Old One's forehead ridged vertically and he said with stingingcontempt, "Is this the breed of king which men call Hastur now?"
"Man or God or Hastur, I am not too proud to plead for my people,"retorted Regis, flushing with anger. "Never in all the history ofDarkover has a Hastur stood before one of you and begged--"
"--for the men from another world."
"--for all men on our world! Old One, I could sit and keep state in theHouse of the Hasturs, and even death could not touch me until I grewweary of living! But I preferred to learn new lives from new men. TheTerrans have something to teach even the Hasturs, and they can learn aremedy against the trailmen's fever." He looked round at me, turning thediscussion over to me again, and I said:
"I am no alien from another world, Old One. I have been a son in yourhouse. Perhaps I was sent to teach you to fight destiny. I cannotbelieve you are indifferent to death."
Suddenly, hardly knowing what I was going to do until I found myself onmy knees, I knelt and looked up into the quiet stern remote face of thenonhuman:
"My father," I said, "you took a dying man and a dying child from aburning plane. Even those of their own kind might have stripped theircorpses and left them to die. You saved the child, fostered him andtreated him as a son. When he reached an age to be unhappy with you, youlet a dozen of your people risk their lives to take him to his own. Youcannot ask me to believe that you are indifferent to the death of amillion of my people, when the fate of one could stir your pity!"
* * * * *
There was a moment's silence. Finally the Old One said,"Indifferent--no. But helpless. My people die when they leave themountains. The air is too rich for them. The food is wrong. The lightblinds and tortures them. Can I send them to suffer and die, thosepeople who call me father?"
And a memory, buried all my life, suddenly surfaced. I said urgently,"Father, listen. In the world I live in now, I am called a wise man. Youneed not believe me, but listen; I know your people, they are my people.I remember when I left you, more than a dozen of my foster-parents'friends offered, knowing they risked death, to go with me. I was achild; I did not realize the sacrifice they made. But I watched themsuffer, as we went lower in the mountains, and I resolved ... I resolved..." I spoke with difficulty, forcing the words through a reluctantbarricade, "... that since others had suffered so for me ... I wouldspend my life in curing the sufferings of others. Father, the Terranscall me a wise doctor, a man of healing. Among the Terrans I can seethat my people, if they will come to us and help us, have air they canbreathe and food which will suit them and that they are guarded from thelight. I don't ask you to send anyone, father. I ask only--tell yoursons what I have told you. If I know your people--who are my peopleforever--hundreds of them will offer to return with me. And you maywitness what your foster-son has sworn here; if one of your sons dies,your alien son will answer for it with his own life."
The words had poured from me in a flood. They were not all mine; someunconscious thing had recalled in me that Jay Allison had power to makethese promises. For the first time I began to see what force, whatguilt, what dedication working in Jay Allison had turned him aside fromme. I remained at the Old One's feet, kneeling, overcome, ashamed of thething I had become. Jay Allison was worth ten of me. Irresponsible,Forth had said. Lacking purpose, lacking balance. What right had I todespise my soberer self?
At last I felt the Old One touch my head lightly.
"Get up, my son," he said, "I will answer for my people. And forgive mefor my doubts and my delays."
* * * * *
Neither Regis nor I spoke for a minute after we left the audience room;then, almost as one, we turned to each other. Regis spoke first,soberly.
"It was a fine thing you did, Jason. I didn't believe he'd agree to it."
"It was your speech that did it," I denied. The sober mood, theunaccustomed surge of emotion, was still on me, but it was giving way toa sudden upswing of exaltation. Damn it, I'd _done_ it! Let Jay Allisontry to match _that_ ...
Regis still looked grave. "He'd have refused, but you appealed to him asone of themselves. And yet it wasn't quite that ... it was somethingmore ..." Regis put a quick embarrassed arm around my shoulders andsuddenly blurted out, "I think the Terran Medical played hell with yourlife, Jason! And even if it saves a million lives--it's hard to forgivethem for that!"
* * * * *
Late the next day the Old One called us in again, and told us that ahundred men had volunteered to return with us and act as blood donorsand experimental subjects for research into the trailmen's disease.
The trip over the mountains, so painfully accomplished was easier inreturn. Our escort of a hundred trailmen guaranteed us against attack,and they could choose the easiest paths.
Only as we undertook the long climb downward through the foothills didthe trailmen, un-used to ground travel at any time, and suffering fromthe unaccustomed low altitude, begin to weaken. As we grew stronger,more and more of them faltered, and we travelled more and more slowly.Not even Kendricks could be callous about "inhuman animals" by the timewe reached the point where we had left the pack animals. And it was RafeScott who came to me and said desperately, "Jason, these poor fellowswill never make it to Carthon. Lerrys and I know this country. Let us goahead, as fast as we can travel alone, and arrange at Carthon fortransit--maybe we can get pressurized aircraft to fly them from here. Wecan send a message from Carthon, too, about accommodations for them atthe Terran HQ."
I was surprised and a little guilty that I had not thought of thismyself. I covered it with a mocking, "I thought you didn't give a damnabout 'any of my friends.'"
Rafe said doggedly, "I guess I was wrong about that. They're goingthrough this out of a sense of duty, so they must be pretty differentthan I thought they were."
Regis, who had overheard Rafe's plan, now broke in quietly, "There's noneed for you to travel ahead, Rafe. I can send a quicker message."
I had forgotten that Regis was a trained telepath. He added, "There aresome space and distance limitations to such messages, but there is aregular relay net all over Darkover, and one of the relays is a girl wholives at the very edge of the Terran Zone. _If_ you'll tell me what willgive her access to the Terran HQ--" he flushed slightly and explained,"from what I know of the Terrans, she would not be very fortunaterelaying the message if she merely walked to the gate and said she had arelayed telepathic message for someone, would she?"
I had to smile at the picture that conjured up in my mind. "I'm afraidnot," I admitted. "Tell her to go to Dr. Forth, and give the messagefrom Dr. Jason Allison."
Regis looked at me curiously--it was the first time I had spoken my ownname in the hearing of the others. But he nodded, without comment. Forthe next hour or two he seemed somewhat more pre-occupied than usual,but after a time he came to me and told me that the message had gonethrough. Sometime later he relayed an answer; that airlift would bewaiting for us, not at Carthon, but a small village near the ford of theKadarin where we had left our trucks.
When we camped that night there were a dozen practical problems needingattention; the time and exact place of crossing the ford, thereassurance to be given to terrified trailmen who could face leavingtheir forests but not crossing the final barricade of the river, thesmall help in our power to be given the sick ones. But after everythinghad been done that I could do, and after the whole camp had quieteddown, I sat before the low-burning fire and stared into it, deep inpainful lassitude. Tomorrow we would cross the river and a few hourslater we would be back in the Terran HQ. And then....
And then ... and then nothing. I would vanish, I would utterly cease toexist anywhere, except as a vagrant ghost troubling Ja
y Allison'sunquiet dreams. As he moved through the cold round of his days I wouldbe no more than a spent wind, a burst bubble, a thinned cloud.
The rose and saffron of the dying fire-colors gave shape to my dreams.Once more, as in the trailcity that night, Kyla slipped throughfirelight to my side, and I looked up at her and suddenly I knew I couldnot bear it. I pulled her to me and muttered, "Oh, Kyla--Kyla, I won'teven remember you!"
She pushed my hands away, kneeling upright, and said urgently, "Jason,listen. We are close to Carthon, the others can lead them the rest ofthe way. Why go back to them at all? Slip away now and never go back! Wecan--" she stopped, coloring fiercely, that sudden and terrifyingshyness overcoming her again, and at
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