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Nourse + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1 {text-align: left; clear: both; margin-bottom: 2em;} + + hr {width: 33%; margin: 2em auto; clear: both;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 2em 15% 4em; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; + font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<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—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—" his eye swept the circle +of windburned faces—"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—"</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—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—" +he consulted the papers in his hand—"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—"</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—"</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—" 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—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—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—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.</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—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—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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMAGE OF THE GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 22882-h.htm or 22882-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/8/22882/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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