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+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Image of the Gods, by Alan E. Nourse
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Image of the Gods, by Alan Edward Nourse
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Image of the Gods
+
+Author: Alan Edward Nourse
+
+Release Date: October 3, 2007 [EBook #22882]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMAGE OF THE GODS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br />
+This etext was produced from <i>The Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction
+Stories by Alan E. Nourse</i> published in 1963. Extensive research did
+not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was
+renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected
+without note.</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>Image<br />
+of<br />
+the<br />
+Gods</h1>
+
+
+
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">It</span> was nearly winter when the ship arrived. Pete Farnam
+never knew if the timing had been planned that way or not.
+It might have been coincidence that it came just when the
+colony was predicting its first real bumper crop of all time.
+When it was all over, Pete and Mario and the rest tried to
+figure it out, but none of them ever knew for sure just <i>what</i>
+had happened back on Earth, or <i>when</i> it had actually happened.
+There was too little information to go on, and practically
+none that they could trust. All Pete Farnam really knew,
+that day, was that this was the wrong year for a ship from
+Earth to land on Baron IV.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was out on the plantation when it landed. As usual,
+his sprayer had gotten clogged; tarring should have been
+started earlier, before it got so cold that the stuff clung to the
+nozzle and hardened before the spray could settle into the
+dusty soil. The summer past had been the colony's finest in the
+fourteen years he'd been there, a warm, still summer with
+plenty of rain to keep the dirt down and let the <i>taaro</i> get well
+rooted and grow up tall and gray against the purple sky. But
+now the <i>taaro</i> was harvested. It was waiting, compressed and
+crated, ready for shipment, and the heavy black clouds were
+scudding nervously across the sky, faster with every passing
+day. Two days ago Pete had asked Mario to see about firing
+up the little furnaces the Dusties had built to help them fight
+the winter. All that remained now was tarring the fields, and
+then buckling down beneath the wind shields before the first
+winter storms struck.</p>
+
+<p>Pete was trying to get the nozzle of the tar sprayer cleaned
+out when Mario's jeep came roaring down the rutted road
+from the village in a cloud of dust. In the back seat a couple
+of Dusties were bouncing up and down like happy five-year-olds.
+The brakes squealed and Mario bellowed at him from
+the road. "Pete! The ship's in! Better get hopping!"</p>
+
+<p>Pete nodded and started to close up the sprayer. One of
+the Dusties tumbled out of the jeep and scampered across the
+field to give him a hand. It was an inexpert hand to say the
+least, but the Dusties seemed so proud of the little they were
+able to learn about mechanized farming that nobody had the
+heart to shoo them away. Pete watched the fuzzy brown creature
+get its paws thoroughly gummed up with tar before he
+pulled him loose and sent him back to the jeep with a whack
+on the backside. He finished the job himself, grabbed his coat
+from the back of the sprayer, and pulled himself into the front
+seat of the jeep.</p>
+
+<p>Mario started the little car back down the road. The young
+colonist's face was coated with dust, emphasizing the lines of
+worry around his eyes. "I don't like it, Pete. There isn't any
+ship due this year."</p>
+
+<p>"When did it land?"</p>
+
+<p>"About twenty minutes ago. Won't be cool for a while yet."</p>
+
+<p>Pete laughed. "Maybe Old Schooner is just getting lonesome
+to swap tall stories with us. Maybe he's even bringing us a
+locker of T-bones. Who knows?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe," said Mario without conviction.</p>
+
+<p>Pete looked at him, and shrugged. "Why complain if they're
+early? Maybe they've found some new way to keep our fields
+from blowing away on us every winter." He stared across at
+the heavy windbreaks between the fields&mdash;long, ragged structures
+built in hope of outwitting the vicious winds that howled
+across the land during the long winter. Pete picked bits of tar
+from his beard, and wiped the dirt from his forehead with
+the back of his hand. "This tarring is mean," he said wearily.
+"Glad to take a break."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe Cap Schooner will know something about the rumors
+we've been hearing," Mario said gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>Pete looked at him sharply. "About Earth?"</p>
+
+<p>Mario nodded. "Schooner's a pretty good guy, I guess. I
+mean, he'd tell us if anything was <i>really</i> wrong back home,
+wouldn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>Pete nodded, and snapped his fingers. One of the Dusties
+hopped over into his lap and began gawking happily at the
+broad fields as the jeep jogged along. Pete stroked the creature's
+soft brown fur with his tar-caked fingers. "Maybe someday
+these little guys will show us where <i>they</i> go for the winter,"
+he said. "They must have it down to a science."</p>
+
+<p>Somehow the idea was funny, and both men roared. If the
+Dusties had <i>anything</i> down to a science, nobody knew what.
+Mario grinned and tweaked the creature's tail. "They sure do
+beat the winter, though," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"So do we. Only we have to do it the human way. These
+fellas grew up in the climate." Pete lapsed into silence as the
+village came into view. The ship had landed quite a way out,
+resting on its skids on the long shallow groove the colonists
+had bulldozed out for it years before, the first year they had
+arrived on Baron IV. Slowly Pete turned Mario's words over
+in his mind, allowing himself to worry a little. There <i>had</i>
+been rumors of trouble back on Earth, persistent rumors he
+had taken care to soft-pedal, as mayor of the colony. There
+were other things, too, like the old newspapers and magazines
+that had been brought in by the lad from Baron II, and the
+rare radio message they could pick up through their atmospheric
+disturbance. Maybe something <i>was</i> going wrong back
+home. But somehow political upheavals on Earth seemed remote
+to these hardened colonists. Captain Schooner's visits
+were always welcome, but they were few and far between. The
+colony was small; one ship every three years could supply it,
+and even then the <i>taaro</i> crates wouldn't half fill up the storage
+holds. There were other colonies far closer to home that sent
+back more <i>taaro</i> in one year than Baron IV could grow in ten.</p>
+
+<p>But when a ship did come down, it was a time of high
+excitement. It meant fresh food from Earth, meat from the
+frozen lockers, maybe even a little candy and salt. And always
+for Pete a landing meant a long evening of palaver with the
+captain about things back home and things on Baron IV.</p>
+
+<p>Pete smiled to himself as he thought of it. He could remember
+Earth, of course, with a kind of vague nostalgia, but
+Baron IV was home to him now and he knew he would never
+leave it. He had too many hopes invested there, too many
+years of heartache and desperate hard work, too much deep
+satisfaction in having cut a niche for himself on this dusty,
+hostile world, ever to think much about Earth any more.</p>
+
+<p>Mario stopped in front of the offices, and one of the Dusties
+hopped out ahead of Pete. The creature strode across the rough
+gravel to the door, pulling tar off his fingers just as he had
+seen Pete do. Pete followed him to the door, and then stopped,
+frowning. There should have been a babble of voices inside,
+with Captain Schooner's loud laugh roaring above the excitement.
+But Pete could hear nothing. A chill of uneasiness ran
+through him; he pushed open the door and walked inside. A
+dozen of his friends looked up silently, avoiding the eyes of
+the uniformed stranger in the center of the room. When he
+saw the man, Pete Farnam knew something was wrong indeed.</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't Captain Schooner. It was a man he'd never seen
+before.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The Dustie ran across the room in front of Pete and hopped
+up on the desk as though he owned it, throwing his hands on his
+hips and staring at the stranger curiously. Pete took off his
+cap and parka and dropped them on a chair. "Well," he said.
+"This is a surprise. We weren't expecting a ship so soon."</p>
+
+<p>The man inclined his head stiffly and glanced down at the
+paper he held in his hand. "You're Peter Farnam, I suppose?
+Mayor of this colony?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right. And you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Varga is the name," the captain said shortly. "Earth Security
+and Supply." He nodded toward the small, frail-looking
+man in civilian clothes, sitting beside him. "This is Rupert
+Nathan, of the Colonial Service. You'll be seeing a great deal
+of him." He held out a small wallet of papers. "Our credentials,
+Farnam. Be so good as to examine them."</p>
+
+<p>Pete glanced around the room. John Tegan and Hank Mario
+were watching him uneasily. Mary Turner was following the
+proceedings with her sharp little eyes, missing nothing, and
+Mel Dorfman stood like a rock, his heavy face curiously expressionless
+as he watched the visitors. Pete reached out for
+the papers, flipped through them, and handed them back with
+a long look at Captain Varga.</p>
+
+<p>He was younger than Captain Schooner, with sandy hair
+and pale eyes that looked up at Pete from a soft baby face.
+Clean-shaven, his whole person seemed immaculate as he
+leaned back calmly in the chair. His civilian companion, however,
+had indecision written in every line of his pink face. His
+hands fluttered nervously, and he avoided the colonist's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Pete turned to the captain. "The papers say you're our
+official supply ship," he said. "You're early, but an Earth ship
+is always good news." He clucked at the Dustie, who was about
+to go after one of the shiny buttons on the captain's blouse.
+The little brown creature hopped over and settled on Pete's
+knee. "We've been used to seeing Captain Schooner."</p>
+
+<p>The captain and Nathan exchanged glances. "Captain
+Schooner has retired from Security Service," the captain said
+shortly. "You won't be seeing him again. But we have a cargo
+for your colony. You may send these people over to the ship
+to start unloading now, if you wish&mdash;" his eye swept the circle
+of windburned faces&mdash;"while Nathan and I discuss certain
+matters with you here."</p>
+
+<p>Nobody moved for a moment. Then Pete nodded to Mario.
+"Take the boys out to unload, Jack. We'll see you back here
+in an hour or so."</p>
+
+<p>"Pete, are you sure&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry. Take Mel and Hank along to lend a hand."
+Pete turned back to Captain Varga. "Suppose we go inside to
+more comfortable quarters," he said. "We're always glad to
+have word from Earth."</p>
+
+<p>They passed through a dark, smelly corridor into Pete's
+personal quarters. For a colony house, if wasn't bad&mdash;good
+plastic chairs, a hand-made rug on the floor, even one of Mary
+Turner's paintings on the wall, and several of the weird, stylized
+carvings the Dusties had done for Pete. But the place smelled
+of tar and sweat, and Captain Varga's nose wrinkled in distaste.
+Nathan drew out a large silk handkerchief and wiped
+his pink hands, touching his nose daintily.</p>
+
+<p>The Dustie hopped into the room ahead of them and settled
+into the biggest, most comfortable chair. Pete snapped his fingers
+sharply, and the brown creature jumped down again like
+a naughty child and climbed up on Pete's knee. The captain
+glanced at the chair with disgust and sat down in another.
+"Do you actually let those horrid creatures have the run of
+your house?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" Pete said. "We have the run of their planet.
+They're quite harmless, really. And quite clean."</p>
+
+<p>The captain sniffed. "Nasty things. Might find a use for the
+furs, though. They look quite soft."</p>
+
+<p>"We don't kill Dusties," said Pete coolly. "They're friendly,
+and intelligent too, in a childish sort of way." He looked at
+the captain and Nathan, and decided not to put on the coffee
+pot. "Now what's the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"No trouble at all," the captain said, "except the trouble
+you choose to make. You have your year's <i>taaro</i> ready for
+shipping?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>The captain took out a small pencil on a chain and began to
+twirl it. "How much, to be exact?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty thousand, Earth weight."</p>
+
+<p>"Tons?"</p>
+
+<p>Pete shook his head. "Hundredweight."</p>
+
+<p>The captain raised his eyebrows. "I see. And there are&mdash;"
+he consulted the papers in his hand&mdash;"roughly two hundred
+and twenty colonists here on Baron IV. Is that right?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right."</p>
+
+<p>"Seventy-four men, eighty-one women, and fifty-nine children,
+to be exact?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd have to look it up. Margaret Singman had twins the
+other night."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't be ridiculous," snapped the captain. "On a
+planet the size of Baron IV, with seventy-four men, you should
+be producing a dozen times the <i>taaro</i> you stated. We'll consider
+that your quota for a starter, at least. You have ample seed,
+according to my records. I should think, with the proper equipment&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Now wait a minute," Pete said softly. "We're fighting a
+climate here, captain. You should know that. We have only a
+two-planting season, and the 'proper equipment,' as you call
+it, doesn't operate too well out here. It has a way of clogging
+up with dust in the summer, and rusting in the winter."</p>
+
+<p>"Really," said Captain Varga. "As I was saying, with the
+proper equipment, you could cultivate a great deal more land
+than you seem to be using. This would give you the necessary
+heavier yield. Wouldn't you say so, Nathan?"</p>
+
+<p>The little nervous man nodded. "Certainly, captain. With
+the proper organization of labor."</p>
+
+<p>"That's nonsense," Pete said, suddenly angry. "Nobody can
+get that kind of yield from this planet. The ground won't give
+it, and the men won't grow it."</p>
+
+<p>The captain gave him a long look. "Really?" he said. "I
+think you're wrong. I think the men will grow it."</p>
+
+<p>Pete stood up slowly. "What are you trying to say? This
+business about quotas and organization of labor&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't read our credentials as we instructed you,
+Farnam. Mr. Nathan is the official governor of the colony on
+Baron IV, as of now. You'll find him most co-operative, I'm
+sure, but he's answerable directly to me in all matters. My job
+is administration of the entire Baron system. Clear enough?"</p>
+
+<p>Pete's eyes were dark. "I think you'd better draw me a
+picture," he said tightly. "A very clear picture."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Baron IV is not paying for its upkeep. <i>Taaro</i>,
+after all, is not the most necessary of crops in the universe.
+It has value, but not very much value, all things considered.
+If the production of <i>taaro</i> here is not increased sharply, it may
+be necessary to close down the colony altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a liar," said Pete shortly. "The Colonization Board
+makes no production demands on the colonies. Nor does it
+farm out systems for personal exploitation."</p>
+
+<p>The captain smiled. "The Colonization Board, as you call
+it, has undergone a slight reorganization," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Reorganization!</i> It's a top-level board in the Earth Government!
+Nothing could reorganize it but a wholesale&mdash;" He broke
+off, his jaw sagging as the implication sank in.</p>
+
+<p>"You're rather out on a limb, you see," said the captain
+coolly. "Poor communications and all that. The fact is that
+the entire Earth Government has undergone a slight reorganization
+also."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The Dustie knew that something had happened.</p>
+
+<p>Pete didn't know how he knew. The Dusties couldn't talk,
+couldn't make <i>any</i> noise, as far as Pete knew. But they always
+seemed to know when something unusual was happening. It
+was wrong, really, to consider them unintelligent animals.
+There are other sorts of intelligence than human, and other
+sorts of communication, and other sorts of culture. The Baron
+IV colonists had never understood the queer perceptive sense
+that the Dusties seemed to possess, any more than they knew
+how many Dusties there were, or what they ate, or where on the
+planet they lived. All they knew was that when they landed on
+Baron IV, the Dusties were there.</p>
+
+<p>At first the creatures had been very timid. For weeks the
+men and women, busy with their building, had paid little attention
+to the skittering brown forms that crept down from
+the rocky hills to watch them with big, curious eyes. They were
+about half the size of men, and strangely humanoid in appearance,
+not in the sense that a monkey is humanoid (for
+they did <i>not</i> resemble monkeys) but in some way the colonists
+could not quite pin down. It may have been the way they
+walked around on their long, fragile hind legs, the way they
+stroked their pointed chins as they sat and watched and listened
+with their pointed ears lifted alertly, watching with soft gray
+eyes, or the way they handled objects with their little four-fingered
+hands. They were so remarkably human-like in their
+elfin way that the colonists couldn't help but be drawn to the
+creatures.</p>
+
+<p>That whole first summer, when the colonists were building
+the village and the landing groove for the ships, the Dusties
+were among them, trying pathetically to help, so eager for
+friendship that even occasional rebuffs failed to drive them
+away. They <i>liked</i> the colony. They seemed, somehow, to savor
+the atmosphere, moving about like solemn, fuzzy overseers as
+the work progressed through the summer. Pete Farnam thought
+that they had even tried to warn the people about the winter.
+But the colonists couldn't understand, of course. Not until
+later. The Dusties became a standing joke, and were tolerated
+with considerable amusement&mdash;until the winter struck.</p>
+
+<p>It had come with almost unbelievable ferocity. The houses
+had not been completed when the first hurricanes came, and
+they were smashed into toothpicks. The winds came, vicious
+winds full of dust and sleet and ice, wild erratic twisting gales
+that ripped the village to shreds, tearing off the topsoil that
+had been broken and fertilized&mdash;merciless, never-ending winds
+that wailed and screamed the planet's protest. The winds drove
+sand and dirt and ice into the heart of the generators, and the
+heating units corroded and jammed and went dead. The jeeps
+and tractors and bulldozers were scored and rusted. The people
+began dying by the dozens as they huddled down in the pitiful
+little pits they had dug to try to keep the winds away.</p>
+
+<p>Few of them were still conscious when the Dusties had come
+silently, in the blizzard, eyes closed tight against the blast, to
+drag the people up into the hills, into caves and hollows that
+still showed the fresh marks of carving tools. They had brought
+food&mdash;what kind of food nobody knew, for the colony's food
+had been destroyed by the first blast of the hurricane&mdash;but
+whatever it was it had kept them alive. And somehow, the
+colonists had survived the winter which seemed never to end.
+There were frozen legs and ruined eyes; there was pneumonia
+so swift and virulent that even the antibiotics they managed to
+salvage could not stop it; there was near-starvation&mdash;but they
+were kept alive, until the winds began to die, and they walked
+out of their holes in the ground to see the ruins of their first
+village.</p>
+
+<p>From that winter on, nobody considered the Dusties funny
+any more. What had motivated them no one knew, but the
+colony owed them their lives. The Dusties tried to help the
+people rebuild. They showed them how to build windshields
+that would keep houses intact and anchored to the ground
+when the winds came again. They built little furnaces out of
+dirt and rock which defied the winds and gave great heat. They
+showed the colonists a dozen things they needed to know for
+life on the rugged planet. The colonists in turn tried to teach
+the Dusties something about Earth, and how the colonists had
+lived, and why they had come. But there was a barrier of intelligence
+that could not be crossed. The Dusties learned simple
+things, but only slowly and imperfectly. They seemed content
+to take on their mock overseer's role, moving in and about
+the village, approving or disapproving, but always trying to
+help. Some became personal pets, though "pet" was the wrong
+word, because it was more of a strange personal friendship
+limited by utter lack of communication, than any animal-and-master
+relationship. The colonists made sure that the Dusties
+were granted the respect due them as rightful masters of Baron
+IV. And somehow the Dusties perceived this attitude, and were
+so grateful for the acceptance and friendship that there seemed
+nothing they wouldn't do for the colonists.</p>
+
+<p>There had been many discussions about them. "You'd think
+they'd resent our moving in on them," Jack Mario had said
+one day. "After all, we <i>are</i> usurpers. And they treat us like
+kings. Have you noticed the way they mimic us? I saw one
+chewing tobacco the other day. He hated the stuff, but he
+chewed away, and spat like a trooper."</p>
+
+<p>One of the Dusties had been sitting on Pete's knee when
+Captain Varga had been talking, and he had known that something
+terrible was wrong. Now he sat on the desk in the office,
+moving uneasily back and forth as Pete looked up at Mario's
+dark face, and then across at John Tegan and Mel Dorfman.
+John's face was dark with anger as he ran his fingers through
+the heavy gray beard that fell to his chest. Mel sat stunned,
+shaking his head helplessly. Mario was unable to restrain himself.
+His face was bitter as he stomped across the room, then
+returned to shake his fist under Pete's nose. "But did you see
+him?" he choked. "Governor of the colony! What does he
+know about growing <i>taaro</i> in this kind of soil? Did you see
+those hands? Soft, dainty, pink! How could a man with hands
+like that govern a colony?"</p>
+
+<p>Pete looked over at John Tegan. "Well, John?"</p>
+
+<p>The big man looked up, his eyes hollow under craggy brows.
+"It's below the belt, Pete. But if the government's been overthrown,
+then the captain is right. It leaves us out on a limb."</p>
+
+<p>Pete shook his head. "<i>I</i> can't give him an answer," he said.
+"The answer has got to come from the colony. All I can do
+is speak for the colony."</p>
+
+<p>Tegan stared at the floor. "We're an Earth colony," he said
+softly. "I know that. I was born in New York. I lived there for
+many years. But Earth isn't my home any more. This is." He
+looked at Pete. "I built it, and so did you. All of us built it,
+even when things were getting stormy back home. Maybe that's
+why we came, maybe somehow we saw the handwriting on the
+wall."</p>
+
+<p>"But when did it happen?" Mel burst out suddenly. "How
+could <i>anything</i> so big happen so fast?"</p>
+
+<p>"Speed was the secret," Pete said gloomily. "It was quick,
+it was well organized, and the government was unstable. We're
+just caught in the edge of it. Pity the ones living there, now.
+But the new government considers the colonies as areas for
+exploitation instead of development."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they can't do it," Mario cried. "This is <i>our</i> land, <i>our</i>
+home. Nobody can tell us what to grow in our fields."</p>
+
+<p>Pete's fist slammed down on the desk. "Well, how are you
+going to stop them? The law of the land is sitting out there in
+that ship. Tomorrow morning he's coming back here to install
+his fat little friend as governor. He has guns and soldiers on that
+ship to back him up. What are you going to do about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fight it," Mario said.</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack Mario looked around the room. "There are only a
+dozen men on that ship," he said softly. "We've got seventy-four.
+When Varga comes back to the village tomorrow, we
+tell him to take his friend back to the ship and shove off. We
+give him five minutes to get turned around, and if he doesn't,
+we start shooting."</p>
+
+<p>"Just one little thing," said Pete quietly. "What about the
+supplies? Even if we fought them off and won, what about
+the food, the clothing, the replacement parts for the machines?"</p>
+
+<p>"We don't need machinery to farm this land," said Mario
+eagerly. "There's food here, food we can live on; the Dusties
+showed us that the first winter. And we can farm the land for
+our own use and let the machinery rust. There's nothing they
+can bring us from Earth that we can't do without."</p>
+
+<p>"We couldn't get away with it!" Mel Dorfman shook his
+head bitterly. "You're asking us to cut ourselves off from Earth
+completely. But they'd never let us. They'd send ships to bomb
+us out."</p>
+
+<p>"We could hide, and rebuild after they had finished."</p>
+
+<p>Pete Farnam sighed. "They'd never leave us alone, Jack.
+Didn't you see that captain? His kind of mind can't stand opposition.
+We'd just be a thorn in the side of the new Earth
+Government. They don't want <i>any</i> free colonies."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's give them one." Mario sat down tiredly, snapping
+his fingers at the Dustie. "Furs!" he snarled. He looked up,
+his dark eyes burning. "It's no good, Pete. We can't let them
+get away with it. Produce for them, yes. Try to raise the yield
+for them, yes. But not a governor. If they insist on that we can
+throw them out, and keep them out."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so. They'd kill every one of us first."</p>
+
+<p>John Tegan sat up, and looked Pete Farnam straight in the
+eye. "In that case, Peter, it might just be better if they did."</p>
+
+<p>Pete stared at him for a moment and slowly stood up. "All
+right," he said. "Call a general colony meeting. We'll see what
+the women think. Then we'll make our plans."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The ship's jeep skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. Captain
+Varga peered through the windshield. Then he stood up, staring
+at the three men blocking the road at the edge of the
+village. The little pink-faced man at his side turned white when
+he saw their faces, and his fingers began to tremble. Each of
+the men had a gun.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better clear the road," the captain snapped. "We're
+driving through."</p>
+
+<p>Pete Farnam stepped forward. He pointed to Nathan. "Take
+your friend there back to the ship. Leave him there. We don't
+want him here."</p>
+
+<p>Nathan turned to Varga. "I told you," he said viciously.
+"Too big for their boots. Go on through."</p>
+
+<p>The captain laughed and gunned the motor, started straight
+for the men blocking the road. Then Jack Mario shot a hole
+in his front tire. The jeep lurched to a stop. Captain Varga
+stood up, glaring at the men. "Farnam, step out here," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You heard us," Pete said, without moving. "Crops, yes.
+We'll try to increase our yield. But no overseer. Leave him here
+and we'll kill him."</p>
+
+<p>"Once more," said the captain, "clear the way. This man
+is your new governor. He will be regarded as the official agent
+of the Earth Government until the final production capacity of
+this colony is determined. Now clear out."</p>
+
+<p>The men didn't move. Without another word, the captain
+threw the jeep into reverse, jerked back in a curve, and started
+the jeep, flat tire and all, back toward the ship in a billow of
+dust.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly the village exploded into activity. Four men took
+up places behind the row of windbreaks beyond the first row
+of cabins. Pete turned and ran back into the village. He found
+John Tegan commandeering a squad of ten dirty-faced men.
+"Are the women and children all out?" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>"All taken care of." Tegan spat tobacco juice, and wiped
+his mouth with the back of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's Mel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Left flank. He'll try to move in behind them. Gonna be
+tough, Pete, they've got good weapons."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the boys last night?"</p>
+
+<p>John was checking the bolt on his ancient rifle. "Hank and
+Ringo? Just got back an hour ago. If Varga wants to get his
+surface planes into action, he's going to have to dismantle them
+and rebuild them outside. The boys jammed up the launching
+ports for good." He spat again. "Don't worry, Pete. This is
+going to be a ground fight."</p>
+
+<p>"Okay." Pete held out his hand to the old man. "This may
+be it. And if we turn them back, there's bound to be more
+later."</p>
+
+<p>"There's a lot of planet to hide on," said Tegan. "They may
+come back, but after a while they'll go again."</p>
+
+<p>Pete nodded. "I just hope we'll still be here when they do."</p>
+
+<p>They waited. It seemed like hours. Pete moved from post
+to post among the men, heavy-faced men he had known all
+his life, it seemed. They waited with whatever weapons they
+had available&mdash;pistols, home-made revolvers, ortho-guns, an
+occasional rifle, even knives and clubs. Pete's heart sank. They
+were bitter men, but they were a mob with no organization,
+no training for fighting. They would be facing a dozen of
+Security's best-disciplined shock troops, armed with the latest
+weapons from Earth's electronics laboratories. The colonists
+didn't stand a chance.</p>
+
+<p>Pete got his rifle and made his way up the rise of ground
+overlooking the right flank of the village. Squinting, he could
+spot the cloud of dust rising up near the glistening ship, moving
+toward the village. And then, for the first time, he realized
+that he hadn't seen any Dusties all day.</p>
+
+<p>It puzzled him. They had been in the village in abundance
+an hour before dawn, while the plans were being laid out. He
+glanced around, hoping to see one of the fuzzy brown forms
+at his elbow, but he saw nothing. And then, as he stared at the
+cloud of dust coming across the valley, he thought he saw the
+ground moving.</p>
+
+<p>He blinked, and rubbed his eyes. With a gasp he dragged
+out his binoculars and peered down at the valley floor. There
+were thousands of them, hundreds of thousands, their brown
+bodies moving slowly out from the hills surrounding the village,
+converging into a broad, liquid column between the
+village and the ship. Even as he watched, the column grew
+thicker, like a heavy blanket being drawn across the road, a
+multitude of Dusties lining up.</p>
+
+<p>Pete's hair prickled on the back of his neck. They knew so
+little about the creatures, so <i>very</i> little. As he watched the
+brown carpet rolling out, he tried to think. Could there be a
+weapon in their hands, could they somehow have perceived
+the evil that came from the ship, somehow sensed the desperation
+in the men's voices as they had laid their plans? Pete
+stared, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. They were
+there in the road, thousands upon thousands of them, standing
+there, waiting&mdash;for what?</p>
+
+<p>Three columns of dust were coming from the road now.
+Through the glasses Pete could see the jeeps, filled with men
+in their gleaming gray uniforms, crash helmets tight about their
+heads, blasters glistening in the pale light. They moved in
+deadly convoy along the rutted road, closer and closer to the
+crowd of Dusties overflowing the road.</p>
+
+<p>The Dusties just stood there. They didn't move. They didn't
+shift, or turn. They just waited.</p>
+
+<p>The captain's car was first in line. He pulled up before the
+line with a screech of brakes, and stared at the sea of creatures
+before him. "Get out of there!" he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>The Dusties didn't move.</p>
+
+<p>The captain turned to his men. "Fire into them," he snapped.
+"Clear a path."</p>
+
+<p>There was a blaze of fire, and a half a dozen Dusties slid to
+the ground, convulsing. Pete felt a chill pass through him, staring
+in disbelief. The Dusties had a weapon, he kept telling
+himself, they <i>must</i> have a weapon, something the colonists had
+never dreamed of. The guns came up again, and another volley
+echoed across the valley, and a dozen more Dusties fell to the
+ground. For every one that fell, another moved stolidly into
+its place.</p>
+
+<p>With a curse the captain sat down in the seat, gunned the
+motor, and started forward. The jeep struck the fallen bodies,
+rolled over them, and plunged straight into the wall of Dusties.
+Still they didn't move. The car slowed and stopped, mired
+down. The other cars picked up momentum and plunged into
+the brown river of creatures. They too ground to a stop.</p>
+
+<p>The captain started roaring at his men. "Cut them down!
+We're going to get through here!" Blasters began roaring into
+the faces of the Dusties, and as they fell the jeeps moved forward
+a few feet until more of the creatures blocked their path.</p>
+
+<p>Pete heard a cry below him, and saw Jack Mario standing
+in the road, gun on the ground, hands out in front of him,
+staring in horror as the Dusties kept moving into the fire. "Do
+you see what they're doing!" he screamed. "They'll be slaughtered,
+every one of them!" And then he was running down the
+road, shouting at them to stop, and so were Pete and Tegan
+and the rest of the men.</p>
+
+<p>Something hit Pete in the shoulder as he ran. He spun
+around and fell into the dusty road. A dozen Dusties closed in
+around him, lifted him up bodily, and started back through the
+village with him. He tried to struggle, but vaguely he saw that
+the other men were being carried back also, while the river
+of brown creatures held the jeeps at bay. The Dusties were
+hurrying, half carrying and half dragging him back through
+the village and up a long ravine into the hills beyond. At last
+they set Pete on his feet again, plucking urgently at his shirt
+sleeve as they hurried him along.</p>
+
+<p>He followed them willingly, then, with the rest of the colonists
+at his heels. He didn't know what the Dusties were doing,
+but he knew they were trying to save him. Finally they reached
+a cave, a great cleft in the rock that Pete knew for certain had
+not been there when he had led exploring parties through these
+hills years before. It was a huge opening, and already a dozen
+of the men were there, waiting, dazed by what they had witnessed
+down in the valley, while more were stumbling up the
+rocky incline, tugged along by the fuzzy brown creatures.</p>
+
+<p>Inside the cavern, steps led down the side of the rock, deep
+into the dark coolness of the earth. Down and down they went,
+until they suddenly found themselves in a mammoth room lit
+by blazing torches. Pete stopped and stared at his friends who
+had already arrived. Jack Mario was sitting on the floor, his
+face in his hands, sobbing. Tegan was sitting, too, blinking at
+Pete as if he were a stranger, and Dorfman was trembling like
+a leaf. Pete stared about him through the dim light, and then
+looked where Tegan was pointing at the end of the room.</p>
+
+<p>He couldn't see it clearly, at first. Finally, he made out a
+raised platform with four steps leading up. A torch lighted
+either side of a dais at the top, and between the torches, rising
+high into the gloom, stood a statue.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautifully carved thing, hewn from the heavy granite
+that made up the core of this planet, with the same curious
+styling as other carving the Dusties had done. The design was
+intricate, the lines carefully turned and polished. At first Pete
+thought it was a statue of a Dustie, but when he moved forward
+and squinted in the dim light, he suddenly realized that
+it was something else indeed. And in that moment he realized
+why they were there and why the Dusties had done this incredible
+thing to protect them.</p>
+
+<p>The statue was weirdly beautiful, the work of a dedicated
+master sculptor. It was a figure, standing with five-fingered
+hands on hips, head raised high. Not a portrait, but an image
+seen through other eyes than human, standing high in the
+room with the lights burning reverently at its feet.</p>
+
+<p>Unmistakably it was the statue of a man.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>They heard the bombs, much later. The granite roof and
+floor of the cavern trembled, and the men and women stared
+at each other, helpless and sick as they huddled in that great
+hall. But presently the bombing stopped. Later, when they
+stumbled out of that grotto into the late afternoon light, the
+ship was gone.</p>
+
+<p>They knew it would be back. Possibly it would bring back
+search parties to hunt down the rebels in the hills; perhaps it
+would just wait and again bomb out the new village when it
+rose. But searching parties would never find their quarry, and
+the village would rise again and again, if necessary.</p>
+
+<p>And in the end, somehow, Pete knew that the colonists
+would find a way to survive here and live free as they had
+always lived. It might be a bitter struggle, but no matter how
+hard the fight, there would be one strange and wonderful thing
+they could count on.</p>
+
+<p>No matter what they had to do, he knew the Dusties would
+help them.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Image of the Gods, by Alan Edward Nourse
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@@ -0,0 +1,1121 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Image of the Gods, by Alan Edward Nourse
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Image of the Gods
+
+Author: Alan Edward Nourse
+
+Release Date: October 3, 2007 [EBook #22882]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMAGE OF THE GODS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+ This etext was produced from _The Counterfeit Man More Science
+ Fiction Stories by Alan E. Nourse_ published in 1963. Extensive
+ research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on
+ this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical
+ errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+ Image
+ of
+ the
+ Gods
+
+
+
+
+It was nearly winter when the ship arrived. Pete Farnam never knew if
+the timing had been planned that way or not. It might have been
+coincidence that it came just when the colony was predicting its first
+real bumper crop of all time. When it was all over, Pete and Mario and
+the rest tried to figure it out, but none of them ever knew for sure
+just _what_ had happened back on Earth, or _when_ it had actually
+happened. There was too little information to go on, and practically
+none that they could trust. All Pete Farnam really knew, that day, was
+that this was the wrong year for a ship from Earth to land on Baron IV.
+
+Pete was out on the plantation when it landed. As usual, his sprayer had
+gotten clogged; tarring should have been started earlier, before it got
+so cold that the stuff clung to the nozzle and hardened before the spray
+could settle into the dusty soil. The summer past had been the colony's
+finest in the fourteen years he'd been there, a warm, still summer with
+plenty of rain to keep the dirt down and let the _taaro_ get well rooted
+and grow up tall and gray against the purple sky. But now the _taaro_
+was harvested. It was waiting, compressed and crated, ready for
+shipment, and the heavy black clouds were scudding nervously across the
+sky, faster with every passing day. Two days ago Pete had asked Mario to
+see about firing up the little furnaces the Dusties had built to help
+them fight the winter. All that remained now was tarring the fields, and
+then buckling down beneath the wind shields before the first winter
+storms struck.
+
+Pete was trying to get the nozzle of the tar sprayer cleaned out when
+Mario's jeep came roaring down the rutted road from the village in a
+cloud of dust. In the back seat a couple of Dusties were bouncing up and
+down like happy five-year-olds. The brakes squealed and Mario bellowed
+at him from the road. "Pete! The ship's in! Better get hopping!"
+
+Pete nodded and started to close up the sprayer. One of the Dusties
+tumbled out of the jeep and scampered across the field to give him a
+hand. It was an inexpert hand to say the least, but the Dusties seemed
+so proud of the little they were able to learn about mechanized farming
+that nobody had the heart to shoo them away. Pete watched the fuzzy
+brown creature get its paws thoroughly gummed up with tar before he
+pulled him loose and sent him back to the jeep with a whack on the
+backside. He finished the job himself, grabbed his coat from the back of
+the sprayer, and pulled himself into the front seat of the jeep.
+
+Mario started the little car back down the road. The young colonist's
+face was coated with dust, emphasizing the lines of worry around his
+eyes. "I don't like it, Pete. There isn't any ship due this year."
+
+"When did it land?"
+
+"About twenty minutes ago. Won't be cool for a while yet."
+
+Pete laughed. "Maybe Old Schooner is just getting lonesome to swap tall
+stories with us. Maybe he's even bringing us a locker of T-bones. Who
+knows?"
+
+"Maybe," said Mario without conviction.
+
+Pete looked at him, and shrugged. "Why complain if they're early? Maybe
+they've found some new way to keep our fields from blowing away on us
+every winter." He stared across at the heavy windbreaks between the
+fields--long, ragged structures built in hope of outwitting the vicious
+winds that howled across the land during the long winter. Pete picked
+bits of tar from his beard, and wiped the dirt from his forehead with
+the back of his hand. "This tarring is mean," he said wearily. "Glad to
+take a break."
+
+"Maybe Cap Schooner will know something about the rumors we've been
+hearing," Mario said gloomily.
+
+Pete looked at him sharply. "About Earth?"
+
+Mario nodded. "Schooner's a pretty good guy, I guess. I mean, he'd tell
+us if anything was _really_ wrong back home, wouldn't he?"
+
+Pete nodded, and snapped his fingers. One of the Dusties hopped over
+into his lap and began gawking happily at the broad fields as the jeep
+jogged along. Pete stroked the creature's soft brown fur with his
+tar-caked fingers. "Maybe someday these little guys will show us where
+_they_ go for the winter," he said. "They must have it down to a
+science."
+
+Somehow the idea was funny, and both men roared. If the Dusties had
+_anything_ down to a science, nobody knew what. Mario grinned and
+tweaked the creature's tail. "They sure do beat the winter, though," he
+said.
+
+"So do we. Only we have to do it the human way. These fellas grew up in
+the climate." Pete lapsed into silence as the village came into view.
+The ship had landed quite a way out, resting on its skids on the long
+shallow groove the colonists had bulldozed out for it years before, the
+first year they had arrived on Baron IV. Slowly Pete turned Mario's
+words over in his mind, allowing himself to worry a little. There _had_
+been rumors of trouble back on Earth, persistent rumors he had taken
+care to soft-pedal, as mayor of the colony. There were other things,
+too, like the old newspapers and magazines that had been brought in by
+the lad from Baron II, and the rare radio message they could pick up
+through their atmospheric disturbance. Maybe something _was_ going wrong
+back home. But somehow political upheavals on Earth seemed remote to
+these hardened colonists. Captain Schooner's visits were always welcome,
+but they were few and far between. The colony was small; one ship every
+three years could supply it, and even then the _taaro_ crates wouldn't
+half fill up the storage holds. There were other colonies far closer to
+home that sent back more _taaro_ in one year than Baron IV could grow in
+ten.
+
+But when a ship did come down, it was a time of high excitement. It
+meant fresh food from Earth, meat from the frozen lockers, maybe even a
+little candy and salt. And always for Pete a landing meant a long
+evening of palaver with the captain about things back home and things on
+Baron IV.
+
+Pete smiled to himself as he thought of it. He could remember Earth, of
+course, with a kind of vague nostalgia, but Baron IV was home to him now
+and he knew he would never leave it. He had too many hopes invested
+there, too many years of heartache and desperate hard work, too much
+deep satisfaction in having cut a niche for himself on this dusty,
+hostile world, ever to think much about Earth any more.
+
+Mario stopped in front of the offices, and one of the Dusties hopped out
+ahead of Pete. The creature strode across the rough gravel to the door,
+pulling tar off his fingers just as he had seen Pete do. Pete followed
+him to the door, and then stopped, frowning. There should have been a
+babble of voices inside, with Captain Schooner's loud laugh roaring
+above the excitement. But Pete could hear nothing. A chill of uneasiness
+ran through him; he pushed open the door and walked inside. A dozen of
+his friends looked up silently, avoiding the eyes of the uniformed
+stranger in the center of the room. When he saw the man, Pete Farnam
+knew something was wrong indeed.
+
+It wasn't Captain Schooner. It was a man he'd never seen before.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The Dustie ran across the room in front of Pete and hopped up on the
+desk as though he owned it, throwing his hands on his hips and staring
+at the stranger curiously. Pete took off his cap and parka and dropped
+them on a chair. "Well," he said. "This is a surprise. We weren't
+expecting a ship so soon."
+
+The man inclined his head stiffly and glanced down at the paper he held
+in his hand. "You're Peter Farnam, I suppose? Mayor of this colony?"
+
+"That's right. And you?"
+
+"Varga is the name," the captain said shortly. "Earth Security and
+Supply." He nodded toward the small, frail-looking man in civilian
+clothes, sitting beside him. "This is Rupert Nathan, of the Colonial
+Service. You'll be seeing a great deal of him." He held out a small
+wallet of papers. "Our credentials, Farnam. Be so good as to examine
+them."
+
+Pete glanced around the room. John Tegan and Hank Mario were watching
+him uneasily. Mary Turner was following the proceedings with her sharp
+little eyes, missing nothing, and Mel Dorfman stood like a rock, his
+heavy face curiously expressionless as he watched the visitors. Pete
+reached out for the papers, flipped through them, and handed them back
+with a long look at Captain Varga.
+
+He was younger than Captain Schooner, with sandy hair and pale eyes that
+looked up at Pete from a soft baby face. Clean-shaven, his whole person
+seemed immaculate as he leaned back calmly in the chair. His civilian
+companion, however, had indecision written in every line of his pink
+face. His hands fluttered nervously, and he avoided the colonist's eyes.
+
+Pete turned to the captain. "The papers say you're our official supply
+ship," he said. "You're early, but an Earth ship is always good news."
+He clucked at the Dustie, who was about to go after one of the shiny
+buttons on the captain's blouse. The little brown creature hopped over
+and settled on Pete's knee. "We've been used to seeing Captain
+Schooner."
+
+The captain and Nathan exchanged glances. "Captain Schooner has retired
+from Security Service," the captain said shortly. "You won't be seeing
+him again. But we have a cargo for your colony. You may send these
+people over to the ship to start unloading now, if you wish--" his eye
+swept the circle of windburned faces--"while Nathan and I discuss
+certain matters with you here."
+
+Nobody moved for a moment. Then Pete nodded to Mario. "Take the boys out
+to unload, Jack. We'll see you back here in an hour or so."
+
+"Pete, are you sure--"
+
+"Don't worry. Take Mel and Hank along to lend a hand." Pete turned back
+to Captain Varga. "Suppose we go inside to more comfortable quarters,"
+he said. "We're always glad to have word from Earth."
+
+They passed through a dark, smelly corridor into Pete's personal
+quarters. For a colony house, if wasn't bad--good plastic chairs, a
+hand-made rug on the floor, even one of Mary Turner's paintings on the
+wall, and several of the weird, stylized carvings the Dusties had done
+for Pete. But the place smelled of tar and sweat, and Captain Varga's
+nose wrinkled in distaste. Nathan drew out a large silk handkerchief and
+wiped his pink hands, touching his nose daintily.
+
+The Dustie hopped into the room ahead of them and settled into the
+biggest, most comfortable chair. Pete snapped his fingers sharply, and
+the brown creature jumped down again like a naughty child and climbed up
+on Pete's knee. The captain glanced at the chair with disgust and sat
+down in another. "Do you actually let those horrid creatures have the
+run of your house?" he asked.
+
+"Why not?" Pete said. "We have the run of their planet. They're quite
+harmless, really. And quite clean."
+
+The captain sniffed. "Nasty things. Might find a use for the furs,
+though. They look quite soft."
+
+"We don't kill Dusties," said Pete coolly. "They're friendly, and
+intelligent too, in a childish sort of way." He looked at the captain
+and Nathan, and decided not to put on the coffee pot. "Now what's the
+trouble?"
+
+"No trouble at all," the captain said, "except the trouble you choose to
+make. You have your year's _taaro_ ready for shipping?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+The captain took out a small pencil on a chain and began to twirl it.
+"How much, to be exact?"
+
+"Twenty thousand, Earth weight."
+
+"Tons?"
+
+Pete shook his head. "Hundredweight."
+
+The captain raised his eyebrows. "I see. And there are--" he consulted
+the papers in his hand--"roughly two hundred and twenty colonists here
+on Baron IV. Is that right?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"Seventy-four men, eighty-one women, and fifty-nine children, to be
+exact?"
+
+"I'd have to look it up. Margaret Singman had twins the other night."
+
+"Well, don't be ridiculous," snapped the captain. "On a planet the size
+of Baron IV, with seventy-four men, you should be producing a dozen
+times the _taaro_ you stated. We'll consider that your quota for a
+starter, at least. You have ample seed, according to my records. I
+should think, with the proper equipment--"
+
+"Now wait a minute," Pete said softly. "We're fighting a climate here,
+captain. You should know that. We have only a two-planting season, and
+the 'proper equipment,' as you call it, doesn't operate too well out
+here. It has a way of clogging up with dust in the summer, and rusting
+in the winter."
+
+"Really," said Captain Varga. "As I was saying, with the proper
+equipment, you could cultivate a great deal more land than you seem to
+be using. This would give you the necessary heavier yield. Wouldn't you
+say so, Nathan?"
+
+The little nervous man nodded. "Certainly, captain. With the proper
+organization of labor."
+
+"That's nonsense," Pete said, suddenly angry. "Nobody can get that kind
+of yield from this planet. The ground won't give it, and the men won't
+grow it."
+
+The captain gave him a long look. "Really?" he said. "I think you're
+wrong. I think the men will grow it."
+
+Pete stood up slowly. "What are you trying to say? This business about
+quotas and organization of labor--"
+
+"You didn't read our credentials as we instructed you, Farnam. Mr.
+Nathan is the official governor of the colony on Baron IV, as of now.
+You'll find him most co-operative, I'm sure, but he's answerable
+directly to me in all matters. My job is administration of the entire
+Baron system. Clear enough?"
+
+Pete's eyes were dark. "I think you'd better draw me a picture," he said
+tightly. "A very clear picture."
+
+"Very well. Baron IV is not paying for its upkeep. _Taaro_, after all,
+is not the most necessary of crops in the universe. It has value, but
+not very much value, all things considered. If the production of _taaro_
+here is not increased sharply, it may be necessary to close down the
+colony altogether."
+
+"You're a liar," said Pete shortly. "The Colonization Board makes no
+production demands on the colonies. Nor does it farm out systems for
+personal exploitation."
+
+The captain smiled. "The Colonization Board, as you call it, has
+undergone a slight reorganization," he said.
+
+"_Reorganization!_ It's a top-level board in the Earth Government!
+Nothing could reorganize it but a wholesale--" He broke off, his jaw
+sagging as the implication sank in.
+
+"You're rather out on a limb, you see," said the captain coolly. "Poor
+communications and all that. The fact is that the entire Earth
+Government has undergone a slight reorganization also."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The Dustie knew that something had happened.
+
+Pete didn't know how he knew. The Dusties couldn't talk, couldn't make
+_any_ noise, as far as Pete knew. But they always seemed to know when
+something unusual was happening. It was wrong, really, to consider them
+unintelligent animals. There are other sorts of intelligence than human,
+and other sorts of communication, and other sorts of culture. The Baron
+IV colonists had never understood the queer perceptive sense that the
+Dusties seemed to possess, any more than they knew how many Dusties
+there were, or what they ate, or where on the planet they lived. All
+they knew was that when they landed on Baron IV, the Dusties were there.
+
+At first the creatures had been very timid. For weeks the men and women,
+busy with their building, had paid little attention to the skittering
+brown forms that crept down from the rocky hills to watch them with big,
+curious eyes. They were about half the size of men, and strangely
+humanoid in appearance, not in the sense that a monkey is humanoid (for
+they did _not_ resemble monkeys) but in some way the colonists could not
+quite pin down. It may have been the way they walked around on their
+long, fragile hind legs, the way they stroked their pointed chins as
+they sat and watched and listened with their pointed ears lifted
+alertly, watching with soft gray eyes, or the way they handled objects
+with their little four-fingered hands. They were so remarkably
+human-like in their elfin way that the colonists couldn't help but be
+drawn to the creatures.
+
+That whole first summer, when the colonists were building the village
+and the landing groove for the ships, the Dusties were among them,
+trying pathetically to help, so eager for friendship that even
+occasional rebuffs failed to drive them away. They _liked_ the colony.
+They seemed, somehow, to savor the atmosphere, moving about like solemn,
+fuzzy overseers as the work progressed through the summer. Pete Farnam
+thought that they had even tried to warn the people about the winter.
+But the colonists couldn't understand, of course. Not until later. The
+Dusties became a standing joke, and were tolerated with considerable
+amusement--until the winter struck.
+
+It had come with almost unbelievable ferocity. The houses had not been
+completed when the first hurricanes came, and they were smashed into
+toothpicks. The winds came, vicious winds full of dust and sleet and
+ice, wild erratic twisting gales that ripped the village to shreds,
+tearing off the topsoil that had been broken and fertilized--merciless,
+never-ending winds that wailed and screamed the planet's protest. The
+winds drove sand and dirt and ice into the heart of the generators, and
+the heating units corroded and jammed and went dead. The jeeps and
+tractors and bulldozers were scored and rusted. The people began dying
+by the dozens as they huddled down in the pitiful little pits they had
+dug to try to keep the winds away.
+
+Few of them were still conscious when the Dusties had come silently, in
+the blizzard, eyes closed tight against the blast, to drag the people up
+into the hills, into caves and hollows that still showed the fresh marks
+of carving tools. They had brought food--what kind of food nobody knew,
+for the colony's food had been destroyed by the first blast of the
+hurricane--but whatever it was it had kept them alive. And somehow, the
+colonists had survived the winter which seemed never to end. There were
+frozen legs and ruined eyes; there was pneumonia so swift and virulent
+that even the antibiotics they managed to salvage could not stop it;
+there was near-starvation--but they were kept alive, until the winds
+began to die, and they walked out of their holes in the ground to see
+the ruins of their first village.
+
+From that winter on, nobody considered the Dusties funny any more. What
+had motivated them no one knew, but the colony owed them their lives.
+The Dusties tried to help the people rebuild. They showed them how to
+build windshields that would keep houses intact and anchored to the
+ground when the winds came again. They built little furnaces out of dirt
+and rock which defied the winds and gave great heat. They showed the
+colonists a dozen things they needed to know for life on the rugged
+planet. The colonists in turn tried to teach the Dusties something about
+Earth, and how the colonists had lived, and why they had come. But there
+was a barrier of intelligence that could not be crossed. The Dusties
+learned simple things, but only slowly and imperfectly. They seemed
+content to take on their mock overseer's role, moving in and about the
+village, approving or disapproving, but always trying to help. Some
+became personal pets, though "pet" was the wrong word, because it was
+more of a strange personal friendship limited by utter lack of
+communication, than any animal-and-master relationship. The colonists
+made sure that the Dusties were granted the respect due them as rightful
+masters of Baron IV. And somehow the Dusties perceived this attitude,
+and were so grateful for the acceptance and friendship that there seemed
+nothing they wouldn't do for the colonists.
+
+There had been many discussions about them. "You'd think they'd resent
+our moving in on them," Jack Mario had said one day. "After all, we
+_are_ usurpers. And they treat us like kings. Have you noticed the way
+they mimic us? I saw one chewing tobacco the other day. He hated the
+stuff, but he chewed away, and spat like a trooper."
+
+One of the Dusties had been sitting on Pete's knee when Captain Varga
+had been talking, and he had known that something terrible was wrong.
+Now he sat on the desk in the office, moving uneasily back and forth as
+Pete looked up at Mario's dark face, and then across at John Tegan and
+Mel Dorfman. John's face was dark with anger as he ran his fingers
+through the heavy gray beard that fell to his chest. Mel sat stunned,
+shaking his head helplessly. Mario was unable to restrain himself. His
+face was bitter as he stomped across the room, then returned to shake
+his fist under Pete's nose. "But did you see him?" he choked. "Governor
+of the colony! What does he know about growing _taaro_ in this kind of
+soil? Did you see those hands? Soft, dainty, pink! How could a man with
+hands like that govern a colony?"
+
+Pete looked over at John Tegan. "Well, John?"
+
+The big man looked up, his eyes hollow under craggy brows. "It's below
+the belt, Pete. But if the government's been overthrown, then the
+captain is right. It leaves us out on a limb."
+
+Pete shook his head. "_I_ can't give him an answer," he said. "The
+answer has got to come from the colony. All I can do is speak for the
+colony."
+
+Tegan stared at the floor. "We're an Earth colony," he said softly. "I
+know that. I was born in New York. I lived there for many years. But
+Earth isn't my home any more. This is." He looked at Pete. "I built it,
+and so did you. All of us built it, even when things were getting stormy
+back home. Maybe that's why we came, maybe somehow we saw the
+handwriting on the wall."
+
+"But when did it happen?" Mel burst out suddenly. "How could _anything_
+so big happen so fast?"
+
+"Speed was the secret," Pete said gloomily. "It was quick, it was well
+organized, and the government was unstable. We're just caught in the
+edge of it. Pity the ones living there, now. But the new government
+considers the colonies as areas for exploitation instead of
+development."
+
+"Well, they can't do it," Mario cried. "This is _our_ land, _our_ home.
+Nobody can tell us what to grow in our fields."
+
+Pete's fist slammed down on the desk. "Well, how are you going to stop
+them? The law of the land is sitting out there in that ship. Tomorrow
+morning he's coming back here to install his fat little friend as
+governor. He has guns and soldiers on that ship to back him up. What are
+you going to do about it?"
+
+"Fight it," Mario said.
+
+"How?"
+
+Jack Mario looked around the room. "There are only a dozen men on that
+ship," he said softly. "We've got seventy-four. When Varga comes back to
+the village tomorrow, we tell him to take his friend back to the ship
+and shove off. We give him five minutes to get turned around, and if he
+doesn't, we start shooting."
+
+"Just one little thing," said Pete quietly. "What about the supplies?
+Even if we fought them off and won, what about the food, the clothing,
+the replacement parts for the machines?"
+
+"We don't need machinery to farm this land," said Mario eagerly.
+"There's food here, food we can live on; the Dusties showed us that the
+first winter. And we can farm the land for our own use and let the
+machinery rust. There's nothing they can bring us from Earth that we
+can't do without."
+
+"We couldn't get away with it!" Mel Dorfman shook his head bitterly.
+"You're asking us to cut ourselves off from Earth completely. But they'd
+never let us. They'd send ships to bomb us out."
+
+"We could hide, and rebuild after they had finished."
+
+Pete Farnam sighed. "They'd never leave us alone, Jack. Didn't you see
+that captain? His kind of mind can't stand opposition. We'd just be a
+thorn in the side of the new Earth Government. They don't want _any_
+free colonies."
+
+"Well, let's give them one." Mario sat down tiredly, snapping his
+fingers at the Dustie. "Furs!" he snarled. He looked up, his dark eyes
+burning. "It's no good, Pete. We can't let them get away with it.
+Produce for them, yes. Try to raise the yield for them, yes. But not a
+governor. If they insist on that we can throw them out, and keep them
+out."
+
+"I don't think so. They'd kill every one of us first."
+
+John Tegan sat up, and looked Pete Farnam straight in the eye. "In that
+case, Peter, it might just be better if they did."
+
+Pete stared at him for a moment and slowly stood up. "All right," he
+said. "Call a general colony meeting. We'll see what the women think.
+Then we'll make our plans."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The ship's jeep skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. Captain Varga
+peered through the windshield. Then he stood up, staring at the three
+men blocking the road at the edge of the village. The little pink-faced
+man at his side turned white when he saw their faces, and his fingers
+began to tremble. Each of the men had a gun.
+
+"You'd better clear the road," the captain snapped. "We're driving
+through."
+
+Pete Farnam stepped forward. He pointed to Nathan. "Take your friend
+there back to the ship. Leave him there. We don't want him here."
+
+Nathan turned to Varga. "I told you," he said viciously. "Too big for
+their boots. Go on through."
+
+The captain laughed and gunned the motor, started straight for the men
+blocking the road. Then Jack Mario shot a hole in his front tire. The
+jeep lurched to a stop. Captain Varga stood up, glaring at the men.
+"Farnam, step out here," he said.
+
+"You heard us," Pete said, without moving. "Crops, yes. We'll try to
+increase our yield. But no overseer. Leave him here and we'll kill him."
+
+"Once more," said the captain, "clear the way. This man is your new
+governor. He will be regarded as the official agent of the Earth
+Government until the final production capacity of this colony is
+determined. Now clear out."
+
+The men didn't move. Without another word, the captain threw the jeep
+into reverse, jerked back in a curve, and started the jeep, flat tire
+and all, back toward the ship in a billow of dust.
+
+Abruptly the village exploded into activity. Four men took up places
+behind the row of windbreaks beyond the first row of cabins. Pete turned
+and ran back into the village. He found John Tegan commandeering a
+squad of ten dirty-faced men. "Are the women and children all out?" he
+shouted.
+
+"All taken care of." Tegan spat tobacco juice, and wiped his mouth with
+the back of his hand.
+
+"Where's Mel?"
+
+"Left flank. He'll try to move in behind them. Gonna be tough, Pete,
+they've got good weapons."
+
+"What about the boys last night?"
+
+John was checking the bolt on his ancient rifle. "Hank and Ringo? Just
+got back an hour ago. If Varga wants to get his surface planes into
+action, he's going to have to dismantle them and rebuild them outside.
+The boys jammed up the launching ports for good." He spat again. "Don't
+worry, Pete. This is going to be a ground fight."
+
+"Okay." Pete held out his hand to the old man. "This may be it. And if
+we turn them back, there's bound to be more later."
+
+"There's a lot of planet to hide on," said Tegan. "They may come back,
+but after a while they'll go again."
+
+Pete nodded. "I just hope we'll still be here when they do."
+
+They waited. It seemed like hours. Pete moved from post to post among
+the men, heavy-faced men he had known all his life, it seemed. They
+waited with whatever weapons they had available--pistols, home-made
+revolvers, ortho-guns, an occasional rifle, even knives and clubs.
+Pete's heart sank. They were bitter men, but they were a mob with no
+organization, no training for fighting. They would be facing a dozen of
+Security's best-disciplined shock troops, armed with the latest weapons
+from Earth's electronics laboratories. The colonists didn't stand a
+chance.
+
+Pete got his rifle and made his way up the rise of ground overlooking
+the right flank of the village. Squinting, he could spot the cloud of
+dust rising up near the glistening ship, moving toward the village. And
+then, for the first time, he realized that he hadn't seen any Dusties
+all day.
+
+It puzzled him. They had been in the village in abundance an hour before
+dawn, while the plans were being laid out. He glanced around, hoping to
+see one of the fuzzy brown forms at his elbow, but he saw nothing. And
+then, as he stared at the cloud of dust coming across the valley, he
+thought he saw the ground moving.
+
+He blinked, and rubbed his eyes. With a gasp he dragged out his
+binoculars and peered down at the valley floor. There were thousands of
+them, hundreds of thousands, their brown bodies moving slowly out from
+the hills surrounding the village, converging into a broad, liquid
+column between the village and the ship. Even as he watched, the column
+grew thicker, like a heavy blanket being drawn across the road, a
+multitude of Dusties lining up.
+
+Pete's hair prickled on the back of his neck. They knew so little about
+the creatures, so _very_ little. As he watched the brown carpet rolling
+out, he tried to think. Could there be a weapon in their hands, could
+they somehow have perceived the evil that came from the ship, somehow
+sensed the desperation in the men's voices as they had laid their plans?
+Pete stared, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. They were
+there in the road, thousands upon thousands of them, standing there,
+waiting--for what?
+
+Three columns of dust were coming from the road now. Through the glasses
+Pete could see the jeeps, filled with men in their gleaming gray
+uniforms, crash helmets tight about their heads, blasters glistening in
+the pale light. They moved in deadly convoy along the rutted road,
+closer and closer to the crowd of Dusties overflowing the road.
+
+The Dusties just stood there. They didn't move. They didn't shift, or
+turn. They just waited.
+
+The captain's car was first in line. He pulled up before the line with a
+screech of brakes, and stared at the sea of creatures before him. "Get
+out of there!" he shouted.
+
+The Dusties didn't move.
+
+The captain turned to his men. "Fire into them," he snapped. "Clear a
+path."
+
+There was a blaze of fire, and a half a dozen Dusties slid to the
+ground, convulsing. Pete felt a chill pass through him, staring in
+disbelief. The Dusties had a weapon, he kept telling himself, they
+_must_ have a weapon, something the colonists had never dreamed of. The
+guns came up again, and another volley echoed across the valley, and a
+dozen more Dusties fell to the ground. For every one that fell, another
+moved stolidly into its place.
+
+With a curse the captain sat down in the seat, gunned the motor, and
+started forward. The jeep struck the fallen bodies, rolled over them,
+and plunged straight into the wall of Dusties. Still they didn't move.
+The car slowed and stopped, mired down. The other cars picked up
+momentum and plunged into the brown river of creatures. They too ground
+to a stop.
+
+The captain started roaring at his men. "Cut them down! We're going to
+get through here!" Blasters began roaring into the faces of the Dusties,
+and as they fell the jeeps moved forward a few feet until more of the
+creatures blocked their path.
+
+Pete heard a cry below him, and saw Jack Mario standing in the road, gun
+on the ground, hands out in front of him, staring in horror as the
+Dusties kept moving into the fire. "Do you see what they're doing!" he
+screamed. "They'll be slaughtered, every one of them!" And then he was
+running down the road, shouting at them to stop, and so were Pete and
+Tegan and the rest of the men.
+
+Something hit Pete in the shoulder as he ran. He spun around and fell
+into the dusty road. A dozen Dusties closed in around him, lifted him up
+bodily, and started back through the village with him. He tried to
+struggle, but vaguely he saw that the other men were being carried back
+also, while the river of brown creatures held the jeeps at bay. The
+Dusties were hurrying, half carrying and half dragging him back through
+the village and up a long ravine into the hills beyond. At last they
+set Pete on his feet again, plucking urgently at his shirt sleeve as
+they hurried him along.
+
+He followed them willingly, then, with the rest of the colonists at his
+heels. He didn't know what the Dusties were doing, but he knew they were
+trying to save him. Finally they reached a cave, a great cleft in the
+rock that Pete knew for certain had not been there when he had led
+exploring parties through these hills years before. It was a huge
+opening, and already a dozen of the men were there, waiting, dazed by
+what they had witnessed down in the valley, while more were stumbling up
+the rocky incline, tugged along by the fuzzy brown creatures.
+
+Inside the cavern, steps led down the side of the rock, deep into the
+dark coolness of the earth. Down and down they went, until they suddenly
+found themselves in a mammoth room lit by blazing torches. Pete stopped
+and stared at his friends who had already arrived. Jack Mario was
+sitting on the floor, his face in his hands, sobbing. Tegan was sitting,
+too, blinking at Pete as if he were a stranger, and Dorfman was
+trembling like a leaf. Pete stared about him through the dim light, and
+then looked where Tegan was pointing at the end of the room.
+
+He couldn't see it clearly, at first. Finally, he made out a raised
+platform with four steps leading up. A torch lighted either side of a
+dais at the top, and between the torches, rising high into the gloom,
+stood a statue.
+
+It was a beautifully carved thing, hewn from the heavy granite that made
+up the core of this planet, with the same curious styling as other
+carving the Dusties had done. The design was intricate, the lines
+carefully turned and polished. At first Pete thought it was a statue of
+a Dustie, but when he moved forward and squinted in the dim light, he
+suddenly realized that it was something else indeed. And in that moment
+he realized why they were there and why the Dusties had done this
+incredible thing to protect them.
+
+The statue was weirdly beautiful, the work of a dedicated master
+sculptor. It was a figure, standing with five-fingered hands on hips,
+head raised high. Not a portrait, but an image seen through other eyes
+than human, standing high in the room with the lights burning reverently
+at its feet.
+
+Unmistakably it was the statue of a man.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+They heard the bombs, much later. The granite roof and floor of the
+cavern trembled, and the men and women stared at each other, helpless
+and sick as they huddled in that great hall. But presently the bombing
+stopped. Later, when they stumbled out of that grotto into the late
+afternoon light, the ship was gone.
+
+They knew it would be back. Possibly it would bring back search parties
+to hunt down the rebels in the hills; perhaps it would just wait and
+again bomb out the new village when it rose. But searching parties would
+never find their quarry, and the village would rise again and again, if
+necessary.
+
+And in the end, somehow, Pete knew that the colonists would find a way
+to survive here and live free as they had always lived. It might be a
+bitter struggle, but no matter how hard the fight, there would be one
+strange and wonderful thing they could count on.
+
+No matter what they had to do, he knew the Dusties would help them.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Image of the Gods, by Alan Edward Nourse
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