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diff --git a/28346.txt b/28346.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7fc4a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/28346.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7145 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Deathworld, by Harry Harrison + +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: Deathworld + +Author: Harry Harrison + +Illustrator: H. R. van Dongen + +Release Date: March 17, 2009 [EBook #28346] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATHWORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + +DEATHWORLD + +BY HARRY HARRISON + +Illustrated by van Dongen + + + _Some planet in the galaxy must--by definition--be the toughest, + meanest, nastiest of all. If Pyrrus wasn't it ... it was an awfully + good approximation!_ + + +Jason dinAlt sprawled in soft luxury on the couch, a large frosty stein +held limply in one hand. His other hand rested casually on a pillow. The +gun behind the pillow was within easy reach of his fingers. In his line +of work he never took chances. + +It was all highly suspicious. Jason didn't know a soul on this planet. +Yet the card sent by service tube from the hotel desk had read: _Kerk +Pyrrus would like to see Jason dinAlt_. Blunt and to the point. He +signaled the desk to send the man up, then lowered his fingers a bit +until they brushed the gun butt. The door slid open and his visitor +stepped through. + +_A retired wrestler._ That was Jason's first thought. Kerk Pyrrus was a +gray-haired rock of a man. His body seemingly chiseled out of flat slabs +of muscle. Then Jason saw the gun strapped to the inside of the other +man's forearm, and he let his fingers drop casually behind the pillow. + +"I'd appreciate it," Jason said, "if you'd take off your gun while +you're in here." The other man stopped and scowled down at the gun as if +he was seeing it for the first time. + +"No, I never take it off." He seemed mildly annoyed by the suggestion. + +Jason had his fingers on his own gun when he said, "I'm afraid I'll have +to insist. I always feel a little uncomfortable around people who wear +guns." He kept talking to distract attention while he pulled out his +gun. Fast and smooth. + +He could have been moving in slow motion for all the difference it made. +Kerk Pyrrus stood rock still while the gun came out, while it swung in +his direction. Not until the very last instant did he act. When he did, +the motion wasn't visible. First his gun was in the arm holster--then it +was aimed between Jason's eyes. It was an ugly, heavy weapon with a +pitted front orifice that showed plenty of use. + +And Jason knew if he swung his own weapon up a fraction of an inch more +he would be dead. He dropped his arm carefully and Kerk flipped his own +gun back in the holster with the same ease he had drawn it. + +"Now," the stranger said, "if we're through playing, let's get down to +business. I have a proposition for you." + +Jason downed a large mouthful from the mug and bridled his temper. He +was fast with a gun--his life had depended on it more than once--and +this was the first time he had been outdrawn. It was the offhand, +unimportant manner it had been done that irritated him. + +"I'm not prepared to do business," he said acidly. "I've come to +Cassylia for a vacation, get away from work." + +"Let's not fool each other, dinAlt," Kerk said impatiently. "You've +never worked at an honest job in your entire life. You're a professional +gambler and that's why I'm here to see you." + +Jason forced down his anger and threw the gun to the other end of the +couch so he wouldn't be tempted to commit suicide. He _had_ hoped no +one knew him on Cassylia and was looking forward to a big kill at the +Casino. He would worry about that later. This weight-lifter type seemed +to know all the answers. Let him plot the course for a while and see +where it led. + +"All right, what do you want?" + + * * * * * + +Kerk dropped into a chair that creaked ominously under his weight, and +dug an envelope out of one pocket. He flipped through it quickly and +dropped a handful of gleaming Galactic Exchange notes onto the table. +Jason glanced at them--then sat up suddenly. + +"What are they--forgeries?" he asked, holding one up to the light. + +"They're real enough," Kerk told him, "I picked them up at the bank. +Exactly twenty-seven bills--or twenty-seven million credits. I want you +to use them as a bankroll when you go to the Casino tonight. Gamble with +them and win." + +They looked real enough--and they could be checked. Jason fingered them +thoughtfully while he examined the other man. + +"I don't know what you have in mind," he said. "But you realize I can't +make any guarantees. I gamble--but I don't always win ..." + +"You gamble--and you win when you want to," Kerk said grimly. "We looked +into that quite carefully before I came to you." + +"If you mean to say that I cheat--" Carefully, Jason grabbed his temper +again and held it down. There was no future in getting annoyed. + +Kerk continued in the same level voice, ignoring Jason's growing anger. +"Maybe you don't call it cheating, frankly I don't care. As far as I'm +concerned you could have your suit lined with aces and electromagnets in +your boots. As long as you _won_. I'm not here to discuss moral points +with you. I said I had a proposition. + +"We have worked hard for that money--but it still isn't enough. To be +precise, we need three billion credits. The only way to get that sum is +by gambling--with these twenty-seven million as bankroll." + +"And what do I get out of it?" Jason asked the question coolly, as if +any bit of the fantastic proposition made sense. + +"Everything above the three billion you can keep, that should be fair +enough. You're not risking your own money, but you stand to make enough +to keep you for life if you win." + +"And if I lose--?" + +Kerk thought for a moment, not liking the taste of the idea. "Yes--there +is the chance you might lose, I hadn't thought about that." + +He reached a decision. "If you lose--well I suppose that is just a risk +we will have to take. Though I think I would kill you then. The ones who +died to get the twenty-seven million deserve at least that." He said it +quietly, without malice, and it was more of a promise than a threat. + +Stamping to his feet Jason refilled his stein and offered one to Kerk +who took it with a nod of thanks. He paced back and forth, unable to +sit. The whole proposition made him angry--yet at the same time had a +fatal fascination. He was a gambler and this talk was like the taste of +drugs to an addict. + +Stopping suddenly, he realized that his mind had been made up for some +time. Win or lose--live or die--how could he say no to the chance to +gamble with money like that! He turned suddenly and jabbed his finger at +the big man in the chair. + +"I'll do it--you probably knew I would from the time you came in here. +There are some terms of my own, though. I want to know who you are, and +who _they_ are you keep talking about. And where did the money come +from. Is it stolen?" + +Kerk drained his own stein and pushed it away from him. + +"Stolen money? No, quite the opposite. Two years' work mining and +refining ore to get it. It was mined on Pyrrus and sold here on +Cassylia. You can check on that very easily. I sold it. I'm the Pyrric +ambassador to this planet." He smiled at the thought. "Not that that +means much, I'm ambassador to at least six other planets as well. Comes +in handy when you want to do business." + +Jason looked at the muscular man with his gray hair and worn, +military-cut clothes, and decided not to laugh. You heard of strange +things out in the frontier planets and every word could be true. He had +never heard of Pyrrus either, though that didn't mean anything. There +were over thirty-thousand known planets in the inhabited universe. + +"I'll check on what you have told me," Jason said. "If it's true, we can +do business. Call me tomorrow--" + +"No," Kerk said. "The money has to be won tonight. I've already issued a +check for this twenty-seven million, it will bounce as high as the +Pleiades unless we deposit the money in the morning, so that's our time +limit." + +With each moment the whole affair became more fantastic--and more +intriguing for Jason. He looked at his watch. There was still enough +time to find out if Kerk was lying or not. + +"All right, we'll do it tonight," he said. "Only I'll have to have one +of those bills to check." + +Kerk stood up to go. "Take them all, I won't be seeing you again until +after you've won. I'll be at the Casino of course, but don't recognize +me. It would be much better if they didn't know where your money was +coming from or how much you had." + +Then he was gone, after a bone-crushing handclasp that closed on Jason's +hand like vise jaws. Jason was alone with the money. Fanning the bills +out like a hand of cards he stared at their sepia and gold faces, trying +to get the reality through his head. Twenty-seven million credits. What +was to stop him from just walking out the door with them and vanishing. +Nothing really, except his own sense of honor. + +Kerk Pyrrus, the man with the same last name as the planet he came +from, was the universe's biggest fool. Or he knew just what he was +doing. From the way the interview had gone the latter seemed the better +bet. + +"He _knows_ I would much rather gamble with the money than steal it," he +said wryly. + +Slipping a small gun into his waistband holster and pocketing the money +he went out. + + + + +II. + + +The robot teller at the bank just pinged with electronic shock when he +presented one of the bills and flashed a panel that directed him to see +Vice President Wain. Wain was a smooth customer who bugged his eyes and +lost some of his tan when he saw the sheaf of bills. + +"You ... wish to deposit these with us?" he asked while his fingers +unconsciously stroked them. + +"Not today," Jason said. "They were paid to me as a debt. Would you +please check that they are authentic and change them? I'd like five +hundred thousand credit notes." + +Both of his inner chest pockets were packed tight when he left the bank. +The bills were good and he felt like a walking mint. This was the first +time in his entire life that carrying a large sum of money made him +uncomfortable. Waving to a passing helicab he went directly to the +Casino, where he knew he would be safe--for a while. + +Cassylia Casino was the playspot of the nearby cluster of star systems. +It was the first time Jason had seen it, though he knew its type well. +He had spent most of his adult life in casinos like this on other +worlds. The decor differed but they were always the same. Gambling and +socialities in public--and behind the scenes all the private vice you +could afford. Theoretically no-limit games, but that was true only up to +a certain point. When the house was really hurt the honest games stopped +being square and the big winner had to watch his step very carefully. +These were the odds Jason dinAlt had played against countless times +before. He was wary but not very concerned. + +The dining room was almost empty and the major-domo quickly rushed to +the side of the relaxed stranger in the richly cut clothes. Jason was +lean and dark, looking more like the bored scion of some rich family +than a professional gambler. This appearance was important and he +cultivated it. The cuisine looked good and the cellar turned out to be +wonderful. He had a professional talk with the sommelier while waiting +for the soup, then settled down to enjoy his meal. + +He ate leisurely and the large dining room was filled before he was +through. Watching the entertainment over a long cigar killed some more +time. When he finally went to the gaming rooms they were filled and +active. + +Moving slowly around the room he dropped a few thousand credits. He +scarcely noticed how he played, giving more attention to the feel of the +games. The play all seemed honest and none of the equipment was rigged. +That could be changed very quickly, he realized. Usually it wasn't +necessary, house percentage was enough to assure a profit. + +Once he saw Kerk out of the corner of his eye but he paid him no +attention. The ambassador was losing small sums steadily at +seven-and-silver and seemed to be impatient. Probably waiting for Jason +to begin playing seriously. He smiled and strolled on slowly. + +Jason settled on the dice table as he usually did. It was the surest way +to make small winnings. _And if I feel it tonight I can clean this +casino out!_ That was his secret, the power that won for him +steadily--and every once in a while enabled him to make a killing and +move on quickly before the hired thugs came to get the money back. + + * * * * * + +The dice reached him and he threw an eight the hard way. Betting was +light and he didn't push himself, just kept away from the sevens. He +made the point and passed a natural. Then he crapped out and the dice +moved on. + +Sitting there, making small automatic bets while the dice went around +the table, he thought about the power. _Funny, after all the years of +work we still don't know much about_ psi. _They can train people a bit, +and improve skills a bit--but that's all._ + +He was feeling strong tonight, he knew that the money in his pocket gave +him the extra lift that sometimes helped him break through. With his +eyes half closed he picked up the dice--and let his mind gently caress +the pattern of sunken dots. Then they shot out of his hand and he stared +at a seven. + +It was there. + +Stronger than he had felt it in years. The stiff weight of those +million-credit notes had done it. The world all around was sharp-cut +clear and the dice was completely in his control. He knew to the +tenth-credit how much the other players had in their wallets and was +aware of the cards in the hands of the players behind him. + +Slowly, carefully, he built up the stakes. + +There was no effort to the dice, they rolled and sat up like trained +dogs. Jason took his time and concentrated on the psychology of the +players and the stick man. It took almost two hours to build his money +on the table to seven hundred thousand credits. Then he caught the stick +man signaling they had a heavy winner. He waited until the hard-eyed man +strolled over to watch the game, then he smiled happily, bet all his +table stakes--and blew it on one roll of the dice. The house man smiled +happily, the stick man relaxed--and out of the corner of his eye Jason +saw Kerk turning a dark purple. + +Sweating, pale, his hand trembling ever so slightly, Jason opened the +front of his jacket and pulled out one of the envelopes of new bills. +Breaking the seal with his finger he dropped two of them on the table. + +"Could we have a no-limit game?" he asked, "I'd like to--win back some +of my money." + +The stick man had trouble controlling his smile now, he glanced across +at the house man who nodded a quick _yes_. They had a sucker and they +meant to clean him. He had been playing from his wallet all evening, now +he was cracking into a sealed envelope to try for what he had lost. A +thick envelope too, and probably not his money. Not that the house cared +in the least. To them money had no loyalties. The play went on with the +Casino in a very relaxed mood. + +Which was just the way Jason wanted it. He needed to get as deep into +them as he could before someone realized _they_ might be on the losing +end. The rough stuff would start and he wanted to put it off as long as +possible. It would be hard to win smoothly then--and his _psi_ power +might go as quickly as it had come. That had happened before. + +He was playing against the house now, the two other players were obvious +shills, and a crowd had jammed solidly around to watch. After losing and +winning a bit he hit a streak of naturals and his pile of gold chips +tottered higher and higher. There was nearly a billion there, he +estimated roughly. The dice were still falling true, though he was +soaked with sweat from the effort. Betting the entire stack of chips he +reached for the dice. The stick man reached faster and hooked them away. + +"House calls for new dice," he said flatly. + +Jason straightened up and wiped his hands, glad of the instant's relief. +This was the third time the house had changed dice to try and break his +winning streak, it was their privilege. The hard-eyed Casino man opened +his wallet as he had done before and drew out a pair at random. +Stripping off their plastic cover he threw them the length of the table +to Jason. They came up a natural seven and Jason smiled. + +When he scooped them up the smile slowly faded. The dice were +transparent, finely made, evenly weighted on all sides--and crooked. + +The pigment on the dots of five sides of each die was some heavy metal +compound, probably lead. The sixth side was a ferrous compound. They +would roll true unless they hit a magnetic field--that meant the entire +surface of the table could be magnetized. He could never have spotted +the difference if he hadn't _looked_ at the dice with his mind. But what +could he do about it? + +Shaking them slowly he glanced quickly around the table. There was what +he needed. An ashtray with a magnet in its base to hold it to the metal +edge of the table. Jason stopped shaking the dice and looked at them +quizzically, then reached over and grabbed the ashtray. He dropped the +base against his hand. + +As he lifted the ashtray there was a concerted gasp from all sides. The +dice were sticking there, upside down, box cars showing. + +"Are these what you call honest dice?" he asked. + +The man who had thrown out the dice reached quickly for his hip pocket. +Jason was the only one who saw what happened next. He was watching that +hand closely, his own fingers near his gun butt. As the man dived into +his pocket a hand reached out of the crowd behind him. From its +square-cut size it could have belonged to only one person. The thick +thumb and index finger clamped swiftly around the house man's wrist, +then they were gone. The man screamed shrilly and held up his arm, his +hand dangling limp as a glove from the broken wrist bones. + + * * * * * + +With his flank well protected, Jason could go on with the game. "The old +dice if you don't mind," he said quietly. + +Dazedly the stick man pushed them over. Jason shook quickly and rolled. +Before they hit the table he realized he couldn't control them--the +transient _psi_ power had gone. + +End over end they turned. And faced up seven. + +Counting the chips as they were pushed over to him he added up a bit +under two billion credits. They would be winning that much if he left +the game now--but it wasn't the three billion that Kerk needed. Well, it +would have to be enough. As he reached for the chips he caught Kerk's +eye across the table and the other man shook his head in a steady _no_. + +"Let it ride," Jason said wearily, "one more roll." + +He breathed on the dice, polished them on his cuff, and wondered how he +had ever gotten into this spot. Billions riding on a pair of dice. That +was as much as the annual income of some planets. The only reason there +_could_ be stakes like that was because the planetary government had a +stake in the Casino. He shook as long as he could, reaching for the +control that wasn't there--then let fly. + +Everything else had stopped in the Casino and people were standing on +tables and chairs to watch. There wasn't a sound from that large crowd. +The dice bounced back from the board with a clatter loud in the silence +and tumbled over the cloth. + +A five and a one. Six. He still had to make his point. Scooping up the +dice Jason talked to them, mumbled the ancient oaths that brought luck +and threw again. + +It took five throws before he made the six. + +The crowd echoed his sigh and their voices rose quickly. He wanted to +stop, take a deep breath, but he knew he couldn't. Winning the money was +only part of the job--they now had to get away with it. It had to look +casual. A waiter was passing with a tray of drinks. Jason stopped him +and tucked a hundred-credit note in his pocket. + +"Drinks are on me," he shouted while he pried the tray out of the +waiter's hands. Well-wishers cleared the filled glasses away quickly and +Jason piled the chips onto the tray. They more than loaded it, but Kerk +appeared that moment with a second tray. + +"I'll be glad to help you, sir, if you will permit me," he said. + +Jason looked at him, and laughed permission. It was the first time he +had a clear look at Kerk in the Casino. He was wearing loose, purple +evening pajamas over what must have been a false stomach. The sleeves +were long and baggy so he looked fat rather than muscular. It was a +simple but effective disguise. + +[Illustration] + +Carefully carrying the loaded trays, surrounded by a crowd of excited +patrons, they made their way to the cashier's window. The manager +himself was there, wearing a sickly grin. Even the grin faded when he +counted the chips. + +"Could you come back in the morning," he said, "I'm afraid we don't have +that kind of money on hand." + +"What's the matter," Kerk shouted, "trying to get out of paying him? You +took _my_ money easy enough when I lost--it works both ways!" + +The onlookers, always happy to see the house lose, growled their +disagreement. Jason finished the matter in a loud voice. + +"I'll be reasonable, give me what cash you have and I'll take a check +for the balance." + +There was no way out. Under the watchful eye of the gleeful crowd the +manager packed an envelope with bills and wrote a check. Jason took a +quick glimpse at it, then stuffed it into an inside pocket. With the +envelope under one arm he followed Kerk towards the door. + +Because of the onlookers there was no trouble in the main room, but just +as they reached the side entrance two men moved in, blocking the way. + +"Just a moment--" one said. He never finished the sentence. Kerk walked +into them without slowing and they bounced away like tenpins. Then Kerk +and Jason were out of the building and walking fast. + +"Into the parking lot," Kerk said. "I have a car there." + +When they rounded the corner there was a car bearing down on them. +Before Jason could get his gun clear of the holster Kerk was in front of +him. His arm came up and his big ugly gun burst through the cloth of his +sleeve and jumped into his hand. A single shot killed the driver and the +car swerved and crashed. The other two men in the car died coming out of +the door, their guns dropping from their hands. + +After that they had no trouble. Kerk drove at top speed away from the +Casino, the torn sleeve of his pajamas whipping in the breeze, giving +glimpses of the big gun back in the holster. + +"When you get the chance," Jason said, "you'll have to show me how that +trick holster works." + +"When we get the chance," Kerk answered as he dived the car into the +city access tube. + + + + +III. + + +The building they stopped at was one of the finer residences in +Cassylia. As they had driven, Jason counted the money and separated his +share. Almost sixteen million credits. It still didn't seem quite real. +When they got out in front of the building he gave Kerk the rest. + +"Here's your three billion, don't think it was easy," he said. + +"It could have been worse," was his only answer. + +The recorded voice scratched in the speaker over the door. + +"Sire Ellus has retired for the night, would you please call again in +the morning. All appointments are made in advan--" + +The voice broke off as Kerk pushed the door open. He did it almost +effortlessly with the flat of his hand. As they went in Jason looked at +the remnants of torn and twisted metal that hung in the lock and +wondered again about his companion. + +_Strength--more than physical strength--he's like an elemental force. I +have the feeling that nothing can stop him._ + +It made him angry--and at the same time fascinated him. He didn't want +out of the deal until he found out more about Kerk and his planet. And +"they" who had died for the money he gambled. + +Sire Ellus was old, balding and angry, not at all used to having his +rest disturbed. His complaints stopped suddenly when Kerk threw the +money down on the table. + +"Is the ship being loaded yet, Ellus? Here's the balance due." Ellus +only fumbled the bills for a moment before he could answer Kerk's +question. + +"The ship--but, of course. We began loading when you gave us the +deposit. You'll have to excuse my confusion, this is a little irregular. +We never handle transactions of this size in cash." + +"That's the way I like to do business," Kerk answered him, "I've +canceled the deposit, this is the total sum. Now how about a receipt." + +Ellus had made out the receipt before his senses returned. He held it +tightly while he looked uncomfortably at the three billion spread out +before him. + +"Wait--I can't take it now, you'll have to return in the morning, to the +bank. In normal business fashion," Ellus decided firmly. + +Kerk reached over and gently drew the paper out of Ellus' hand. + +"Thanks for the receipt," he said. "I won't be here in the morning so +this will be satisfactory. And if you're worried about the money I +suggest you get in touch with some of your plant guards or private +police. You'll feel a lot safer." + +When they left through the shattered door Ellus was frantically dialing +numbers on his screen. Kerk answered Jason's next question before he +could ask it. + +"I imagine you would like to live to spend that money in your pocket, so +I've booked two seats on an interplanetary ship," he glanced at the car +clock. "It leaves in about two hours so we have plenty of time. I'm +hungry, let's find a restaurant. I hope you have nothing at the hotel +worth going back for. It would be a little difficult." + +"Nothing worth getting killed for," Jason said. "Now where can we go to +eat--there are a few questions I would like to ask you." + + * * * * * + +They circled carefully down to the transport levels until they were sure +they hadn't been followed. Kerk nosed the car into a darkened loading +dock where they abandoned it. + +"We can always get another car," he said, "and they probably have this +one spotted. Let's walk back to the freightway, I saw a restaurant there +as we came by." + +Dark and looming shapes of overland freight carriers filled the parking +lot. They picked their way around the man-high wheels and into the hot +and noisy restaurant. The drivers and early morning workers took no +notice of them as they found a booth in the back and dialed a meal. + +Kerk chiseled a chunk of meat off the slab in front of him and popped it +cheerfully into his mouth. "Ask your questions," he said. "I'm feeling +much better already." + +"What's in this ship you arranged for tonight--what kind of a cargo was +I risking my neck for?" + +"I thought you were risking your neck for money," Kerk said dryly. "But +be assured it was in a good cause. That cargo means the survival of a +world. Guns, ammunition, mines, explosives and such." + +Jason choked over a mouthful of food. "Gun-running! What are you doing, +financing a private war? And how can you talk about survival with a +lethal cargo like that? Don't try and tell me they have a peaceful use. +Who are you killing?" + +Most of the big man's humor had vanished, he had that grim look Jason +knew well. + +"Yes, peaceful would be the right word. Because that is basically all we +want. Just to live in peace. And it is not _who_ are we killing--it is +_what_ we are killing." + +Jason pushed his plate away with an angry gesture. "You're talking in +riddles," he said. "What you say has no meaning." + +"It has meaning enough," Kerk told him, "but only on one planet in the +universe. Just how much do you know about Pyrrus?" + +"Absolutely nothing." + +For a moment Kerk sat wrapped in memory, scowling distantly. Then he +went on. + +"Mankind doesn't belong on Pyrrus--yet has been there for almost three +hundred years now. The age expectancy of my people is sixteen years. Of +course most adults live beyond that, but the high child mortality brings +the average down. + +"It is everything that a humanoid world should not be. The gravity is +nearly twice Earth normal. The temperature can vary daily from arctic to +tropic. The climate--well you have to experience it to believe it. Like +nothing you've seen anywhere else in the galaxy." + +"I'm frightened," Jason said dryly. "What do you have--methane or +chlorine reactions? I've been down on planets like that--" + + * * * * * + +Kerk slammed his hand down hard on the table. The dishes bounced and the +table legs creaked. "Laboratory reactions!" he growled. "They look great +on a bench--but what happens when you have a world filled with those +compounds? In an eye-wink of galactic time all the violence is locked up +in nice, stable compounds. The atmosphere may be poisonous for an oxygen +breather, but taken by itself it's as harmless as weak beer. + +"There is only one setup that is pure poison as a planetary atmosphere. +Plenty of H{2}O, the most universal solvent you can find, plus free +oxygen to work on--" + +"Water and oxygen!" Jason broke in. "You mean Earth--or a planet like +Cassylia here? That's preposterous." + +"Not at all. Because you were born in this kind of environment you +accept it as right and natural. You take it for granted that metals +corrode, coastlines change, and storms interfere with communication. +These are normal occurrences on oxygen-water worlds. On Pyrrus these +conditions are carried to the nth degree. + +"The planet has an axial tilt of almost forty-two degrees, so there is a +tremendous change in temperature from season to season. This is one of +the prime causes of a constantly changing icecap. The weather generated +by this is spectacular to say the least." + +"If that's all," Jason said, "I don't see why--" + +"That's _not_ all--it's barely the beginning. The open seas perform the +dual destructive function of supplying water vapor to keep the weather +going, and building up gigantic tides. Pyrrus' two satellites, Samas and +Bessos, combine at times to pull the oceans up into thirty meter tides. +And until you've seen one of these tides lap over into an active volcano +you've seen nothing. + +"Heavy elements are what brought us to Pyrrus--and these same elements +keep the planet at a volcanic boil. There have been at least thirteen +super-novas in the immediate stellar neighborhood. Heavy elements can be +found on most of their planets of course--as well as completely +unbreathable atmospheres. Long-term mining and exploitation can't be +done by anything but a self-sustaining colony. Which meant Pyrrus. Where +the radioactive elements are locked in the planetary core, surrounded by +a shell of lighter ones. While this allows for the atmosphere men need, +it also provides unceasing volcanic activity as the molten plasma forces +its way to the surface." + +For the first time Jason was silent. Trying to imagine what life could +be like on a planet constantly at war with itself. + +"I've saved the best for last," Kerk said with grim humor. "Now that you +have an idea of what the environment is like--think of the kind of life +forms that would populate it. I doubt if there is one off-world species +that would live a minute. Plants and animals on Pyrrus are _tough_. They +fight the world and they fight each other. Hundreds of thousands of +years of genetic weeding-out have produced things that would give even +an electronic brain nightmares. Armor-plated, poisonous, claw-tipped and +fanged-mouthed. That describes everything that walks, flaps or just sits +and grows. Ever see a plant with teeth--that bite? I don't think you +want to. You'd have to be on Pyrrus and that means you would be dead +within seconds of leaving the ship. Even I'll have to take a refresher +course before I'll be able to go outside the landing buildings. The +unending war for survival keeps the life forms competing and changing. +Death is simple, but the ways of dealing it too numerous to list." + +Unhappiness rode like a weight on Kerk's broad shoulders. After long +moments of thought he moved visibly to shake it off. Returning his +attention to his food and mopping the gravy from his plate, he voiced +part of his feelings. + +"I suppose there is no logical reason why we should stay and fight this +endless war. Except that Pyrrus is our home." The last piece of +gravy-soaked bread vanished and he waved the empty fork at Jason. + +"Be happy you're an off-worlder and will never have to see it." + +"That's where you're wrong." Jason said as calmly as he could. "You see, +I'm going back with you." + + + + +IV. + + +"Don't talk stupidly," Kerk said as he punched for a duplicate order of +steak. "There are much simpler ways of committing suicide. Don't you +realize that you're a millionaire now? With what you have in your pocket +you can relax the rest of your life on the pleasure planets. Pyrrus is a +death world, not a sightseeing spot for jaded tourists. I cannot permit +you to return with me." + +Gamblers who lose their tempers don't last long. Jason was angry now. +Yet it showed only in a negative way. In the lack of expression on his +face and the calmness of his voice. + +"Don't tell me what I can or cannot do, Kerk Pyrrus. You're a big man +with a fast gun--but that doesn't make you my boss. All you can do is +stop me from going back on your ship. But I can easily afford to get +there another way. And don't try to tell me I want to go to Pyrrus for +sightseeing when you have no idea of my real reasons." + +Jason didn't even try to explain his reasons, they were only half +realized and too personal. The more he traveled, the more things looked +the same to him. The old, civilized planets sank into a drab similarity. +Frontier worlds all had the crude sameness of temporary camps in a +forest. Not that the galactic worlds bored him. It was just that he had +found their limitations--yet had never found his own. Until he met Kerk +he had acknowledged no man his superior, or even his equal. This was +more than egotism. It was facing facts. Now he was forced to face the +fact that there was a whole world of people who might be superior to +him. Jason could never rest content until he had been there and seen for +himself. Even if he died in the attempt. + +None of this could be told to Kerk. There were other reasons he would +understand better. + +"You're not thinking ahead when you prevent me from going to Pyrrus," +Jason said. "I'll not mention any moral debt you owe me for winning that +money you needed. But what about the next time? If you needed that much +lethal goods once, you'll probably need it again some day. Wouldn't it +be better to have me on hand--old tried and true--than dreaming up some +new and possibly unreliable scheme?" + +Kerk chewed pensively on the second serving of steak. "That makes sense. +And I must admit I hadn't thought of it before. One failing we Pyrrans +have is a lack of interest in the future. Staying alive day by day is +enough trouble. So we tend to face emergencies as they arrive and let +the dim future take care of itself. You can come. I hope you will still +be alive when we need you. As Pyrran ambassador to a lot of places I +officially invite you to our planet. All expenses paid. On the condition +you obey completely all our instructions regarding your personal +safety." + +"Conditions accepted," Jason said. And wondered why he was so cheerful +about signing his own death warrant. + +Kerk was shoveling his way through his third dessert when his alarm +watch gave a tiny hum. He dropped his fork instantly and stood up. "Time +to go," he said. "We're on schedule now." While Jason scrambled to his +feet, he jammed coins into the meter until the _paid_ light came on. +Then they were out the door and walking fast. + +Jason wasn't at all surprised when they came on a public escalator just +behind the restaurant. He was beginning to realize that since leaving +the Casino their every move had been carefully planned and timed. +Without a doubt the alarm was out and the entire planet being searched +for them. Yet so far they hadn't noticed the slightest sign of pursuit. +This wasn't the first time Jason had to move just one jump ahead of the +authorities--but it was the first time he had let someone else lead him +by the hand while he did it. He had to smile at his own automatic +agreement. He had been a loner for so many years that he found a certain +inverse pleasure in following someone else. + +"Hurry up," Kerk growled after a quick glance at his watch. He set a +steady, killing pace up the escalator steps. They went up five levels +that way--without seeing another person--before Kerk relented and let +the escalator do the work. + +Jason prided himself on keeping in condition. But the sudden climb, +after the sleepless night, left him panting heavily and soaked with +sweat. Kerk, cool of forehead and breathing normally, didn't show the +slightest sign that he had been running. + +They were at the second motor level when Kerk stepped off the slowly +rising steps and waved Jason after him. As they came through the exit to +the street a car pulled up to the curb in front of them. Jason had +enough sense not to reach for his gun. At the exact moment they reached +the car the driver opened the door and stepped out. Kerk passed him a +slip of paper without saying a word and slipped in behind the wheel. +There was just time for Jason to jump in before the car pulled away. The +entire transfer had taken less than three seconds. + +There had been only a glimpse of the driver in the dim light, but Jason +had recognized him. Of course he had never seen the man before, but +after knowing Kerk he couldn't mistake the compact strength of a native +Pyrran. + +"That was the receipt from Ellus you gave him," Jason said. + +"Of course. That takes care of the ship and the cargo. They'll be +off-planet and safely away before the casino check is traced to Ellus. +So now let's look after ourselves. I'll explain the plan in detail so +there will be no slip-ups on your part. I'll go through the whole thing +once and if there are any questions you'll ask them when I'm finished." + +The tones of command were so automatic that Jason found himself +listening in quiet obedience. Though one part of his mind wanted him to +smile at the quick assumption of his incompetence. + +Kerk swung the car into the steady line of traffic heading out of the +city to the spaceport. He drove easily while he talked. + +"There is a search on in the city, but we're well ahead of that. I'm +sure the Cassylians don't want to advertise their bad sportsmanship so +there won't be anything as crude as a roadblock. But the port will be +crawling with every agent they have. They know once the money gets +off-planet it is gone forever. When we make a break for it they will be +sure we still have the goods. So there will be no trouble with the +munition ship getting clear." + +Jason sounded a little shocked. "You mean you're setting us up as clay +pigeons to cover the take-off of the ship." + +"You could put it that way. But since we have to get off-planet anyway, +there is no harm in using our escape as a smokescreen. Now shut up until +I've finished, like I told you. One more interruption and I dump you by +the road." + + * * * * * + +Jason was sure he would. He listened intently--and quietly--as Kerk +repeated word for word what he had said before, then continued. + +"The official car gate will probably be wide open with the traffic +through it. And a lot of the agents will be in plain clothes. We might +even get onto the field without being recognized, though I doubt it. It +is of no importance. We will drive through the gate and to the take-off +pad. The _Pride of Darkhan_, for which we hold tickets, will be sounding +its two-minute siren and unhooking the gangway. By the time we get to +our seats the ship will take off." + +"That's all very fine," Jason said. "But what will the guards be doing +all this time?" + +"Shooting at us and each other. We will take advantage of the confusion +to get aboard." + +This answer did nothing to settle Jason's mind, but he let it slide for +the moment. "All right--say we _do_ get aboard. Why don't they just +prevent take-off until we have been dragged out and stood against a +wall?" + +Kerk spared him a contemptuous glance before he returned his eyes to the +road. "I said the ship was the _Pride of Darkhan_. If you had studied +this system at all, you would know what that means. Cassylia and Darkhan +are sister planets and rivals in every way. It has been less than two +centuries since they fought an intra-system war that almost destroyed +both of them. Now they exist in an armed-to-the-teeth neutrality that +neither dare violate. The moment we set foot aboard the ship we are on +Darkhan territory. There is no extradition agreement between the +planets. Cassylia may want us--but not badly enough to start another +war." + +That was all the explanation there was time for. Kerk swung the car out +of the rush of traffic and onto a bridge marked _Official Cars Only_. +Jason had a feeling of nakedness as they rolled under the harsh port +lights towards the guarded gate ahead. + +It was closed. + +Another car approached the gate from the inside and Kerk slowed their +car to a crawl. One of the guards talked to the driver of the car inside +the port, then waved to the gate attendant. The barrier gate began to +swing inwards and Kerk jammed down on the accelerator. + +Everything happened at once. The turbine howled, the spinning tires +screeched on the road and the car crashed open the gate. Jason had a +vanishing glimpse of the open-mouthed guards, then they were skidding +around the corner of a building. A few shots popped after them, but none +came close. + +Driving with one hand, Kerk reached under the dash and pulled out a gun +that was the twin of the monster strapped to his arm. "Use this instead +of your own," he said. "Rocket-propelled explosive slugs. Make a great +bang. Don't bother shooting at anyone--I'll take care of that. Just stir +up a little action and make them keep their distance. Like this." + +He fired a single, snap-shot out the side window and passed the gun to +Jason almost before the slug hit. An empty truck blew up with a roar, +raining pieces on the cars around and sending their drivers fleeing in +panic. + +After that it was a nightmare ride through a madhouse. Kerk drove with +an apparent contempt for violent death. Other cars followed them and +were lost in wheel-raising turns. They careened almost the full length +of the field, leaving a trail of smoking chaos. + +Then the pursuit was all behind them and the only thing ahead was the +slim spire of the _Pride of Darkhan_. + + * * * * * + +The _Pride_ was surrounded by a strong wire fence as suited the +begrudged status of her planetary origin. The gate was closed and +guarded by soldiers with leveled guns, waiting for a shot at the +approaching car. Kerk made no attempt to come near them. Instead he fed +the last reserves of power to the car and headed for the fence. "Cover +your face," he shouted. + +Jason put his arms in front of his head just as they hit. + +Torn metal screamed, the fence buckled, wrapped itself around the car, +but did not break. Jason flew off the seat and into the padded dash. By +the time Kerk had the warped door open, he realized that the ride was +over. Kerk must have seen the spin of his eyeballs because he didn't +talk, just pulled Jason out and threw him onto the hood of the ruined +car. + +"Climb over the buckled wire and make a run for the ship," he shouted. + +If there was any doubt what he meant, he set Jason an example of fine +roadwork. It was inconceivable that someone of his bulk could run so +fast, yet he did. He moved more like a charging tank than a man. Jason +shook the fog from his head and worked up some speed himself. +Nevertheless, he was barely halfway to the ship when Kerk hit the +gangway. It was already unhooked from the ship, but the shocked +attendants stopped rolling it away as the big man bounded up the steps. + +[Illustration] + +At the top he turned and fired at the soldiers who were charging through +the open gate. They dropped, crawled, and returned his fire. Very few +shot at Jason's running form. + +The scene in front of Jason cranked over in slow motion. Kerk standing +at the top of the ramp, coolly returning the fire that splashed all +about. He could have found safety in an instant through the open port +behind him. The only reason he stayed there was to cover Jason. + +"Thanks--" Jason managed to gasp as he made the last few steps up the +gangway, jumped the gap and collapsed inside the ship. + +"You're perfectly welcome," Kerk said as he joined him, waving his gun +to cool it off. + +A grim-jawed ship's officer stood back out of range of fire from the +ground and looked them both up and down. "And just what is going on +here?" he growled. + +Kerk tested the barrel with a wet thumb, then let the gun slide back +into its holster. "We are law-abiding citizens of a different system who +have committed no criminal acts. The savages of Cassylia are too +barbarous for civilized company. Therefore we are going to Darkhan--here +are our tickets--in whose sovereign territory I believe we are at this +moment." This last was added for the benefit of the Cassylian officer +who had just stumbled to the top of the gangway and was raising his gun. + +The soldier couldn't be blamed. He saw these badly wanted criminals +getting away. Aboard a Darkhan ship as well. Anger got the best of him +and he brought his gun up. + +"Come out of there, you scum. You're not escaping that easily. Come out +slow with your hands up or I'll blast you--" + +It was a frozen moment of time that stretched and stretched without +breaking. The pistol covered Kerk and Jason. Neither of them attempted +to reach for their own guns. + +The gun twitched a bit as the ship's officer moved, then steadied back +on the two men. The Darkhan spaceman hadn't gone far, just a pace across +the lock. This was enough to bring him next to a red box set flush with +the wall. With a single, swift gesture he flipped up the cover and +poised his thumb over the button inside. When he smiled his lips peeled +back to show all of his teeth. He had made up his mind, and it was the +arrogance of the Cassylian officer that had been the deciding factor. + +"Fire a single shot into Darkhan territory and I press this button," he +shouted. "And you know what this button does--every one of your ships +has them as well. Commit a hostile act against this ship and _someone_ +will press a button. Every control rod will be blown out of the ship's +pile at that instant and half your filthy city will go up in the +explosion." His smile was chiseled on his face and there was no doubt he +would do what he said. "Go ahead--fire. I think I would enjoy pressing +this." + +The take-off siren was hooting now, the _close lock_ light blinking an +angry message from the bridge. Like four actors in a grim drama they +faced each other an instant more. + +Then the Cassylian officer, growling with unvoicable frustrated anger, +turned and leaped back to the steps. + +"All passengers board ship. Forty-five seconds to take-off. Clear the +port." The ship's officer slammed shut the cover of the box and locked +it as he talked. There was barely time to make the acceleration couches +before the _Pride of Darkhan_ cleared ground. + + + + +V. + + +Once the ship was in orbit the captain sent for Jason and Kerk. Kerk +took the floor and was completely frank about the previous night's +activities. The only fact of importance he left out was Jason's +background as a professional gambler. He drew a beautiful picture of +two lucky strangers whom the evil forces of Cassylia wanted to deprive +of their gambling profits. All this fitted perfectly the captain's +preconceptions of Cassylia. In the end he congratulated his officer on +the correctness of his actions and began the preparation of a long +report to his government. He gave the two men his best wishes as well as +the liberty of the ship. + +It was a short trip. Jason barely had time to catch up on his sleep +before they grounded on Darkhan. Being without luggage they were the +first ones through customs. They left the shed just in time to see +another ship landing in a distant pit. Kerk stopped to watch it and +Jason followed his gaze. It was a gray, scarred ship. With the stubby +lines of a freighter--but sporting as many guns as a cruiser. + +"Yours, of course," Jason said. + +Kerk nodded and started towards the ship. One of the locks opened as +they came up but no one appeared. Instead a remote-release folding +ladder rattled down to the ground. Kerk swarmed up it and Jason followed +glumly. Somehow, he felt, this was overdoing the no-frills-and-nonsense +attitude. + +Jason was catching on to Pyrran ways though. The reception aboard ship +for the ambassador was just what he expected. Nothing. Kerk closed the +lock himself and they found couches as the take-off horn sounded. The +main jets roared and acceleration smashed down on Jason. + +It didn't stop. Instead it grew stronger, squeezing the air out of his +lungs and the sight from his eyes. He screamed but couldn't hear his own +voice through the roaring in his ears. Mercifully he blacked out. + +When consciousness returned the ship was at zero-G. Jason kept his eyes +closed and let the pain seep out of his body. Kerk spoke suddenly, he +was standing next to the couch. + +"My fault, Meta, I should have told you we had a 1-G passenger aboard. +You might have eased up a bit on your usual bone-breaking take-off." + +"It doesn't seem to have harmed him much--but what's he doing here?" + +Jason felt mild surprise that the second voice was a girl's. But he +wasn't interested enough to go to the trouble of opening his sore eyes. + +"Going to Pyrrus. I tried to talk him out of it, of course, but I +couldn't change his mind. It's a shame, too, I would like to have done +more for him. He's the one who got the money for us." + +"Oh, that's awful," the girl said. Jason wondered why it was _awful_. It +didn't make sense to his groggy mind. "It would have been much better if +he stayed on Darkhan," the girl continued. "He's very nice-looking. I +think it's a shame he has to die." + +That was too much for Jason. He pried one eye open, then the other. The +voice belonged to a girl about twenty-one who was standing next to the +bed, gazing down at Jason. She was beautiful. + +Jason's eyes opened wider as he realized she was _very_ beautiful--with +the kind of beauty never found in the civilized galaxy. The women he had +known all ran to pale skin, hollow shoulders, gray faces covered with +tints and dyes. They were the product of centuries of breeding +weaknesses back into the race, as the advance of medicine kept alive +more and more non-survival types. + +This girl was the direct opposite in every way. She was the product of +survival on Pyrrus. The heavy gravity that produced bulging muscles in +men, brought out firm strength in straplike female muscles. She had the +figure of a goddess, tanned skin and perfectly formed face. Her hair, +which was cut short, circled her head like a golden crown. The only +unfeminine thing about her was the gun she wore in a bulky forearm +holster. When she saw Jason's eyes open she smiled at him. Her teeth +were as even and as white as he had expected. + +"I'm Meta, pilot of this ship. And you must be--" + +"Jason dinAlt. That was a lousy take-off, Meta." + +"I'm really very sorry," she laughed. "But being born on a two-G planet +does make one a little immune to acceleration. I save fuel too, with the +synergy curve--" + +Kerk gave a noncommittal grunt. "Come along, Meta, we'll take a look at +the cargo. Some of the new stuff will plug the gaps in the perimeter." + +"Oh yes," she said, almost clapping her hands with happiness. "I read +the specs, they're simply wonderful." + +_Like a schoolgirl with a new dress. Or a box of candy. That's a great +attitude to have towards bombs and flame-throwers._ Jason smiled wryly +at the thought as he groaned off the couch. The two Pyrrans had gone and +he pulled himself painfully through the door after them. + + * * * * * + +It took him a long time to find his way to the hold. The ship was big +and apparently empty of crew. Jason finally found a man sleeping in one +of the brightly lit cabins. He recognized him as the driver who had +turned the car over to them on Cassylia. The man, who had been sleeping +soundly a moment before, opened his eyes as soon as Jason drifted into +the room. He was wide awake. + +"How do I get to the cargo hold?" Jason asked. + +The other told him, closed his eyes and went instantly back to sleep +before Jason could even say thanks. + +In the hold, Kerk and Meta had opened some of the crates and were +chortling with joy over their lethal contents. Meta, a pressure canister +in her arms, turned to Jason as he came through the door. + +"Just look at this," she said. "This powder in here--why you can eat it +like dirt, with less harm. Yet it is instantly deadly to all forms of +vegetable life ..." She stopped suddenly as she realized Jason didn't +share her extreme pleasure. "I'm sorry. I forgot for a moment there that +you weren't a Pyrran. So you don't really understand, do you?" + +Before he could answer, the PA speaker called her name. + +"Jump time," she said. "Come with me to the bridge while I do the +equations. We can talk there. I know so little about any place except +Pyrrus that I have a million questions to ask." + +Jason followed her to the bridge where she relieved the duty officer and +began taking readings for the jump-setting. She looked out of place +among the machines, a sturdy but supple figure in a simple, one-piece +shipsuit. Yet there was no denying the efficiency with which she went +about her job. + +"Meta, aren't you a little young to be the pilot of an interstellar +ship?" + +"Am I?" She thought for a second. "I really don't know how old pilots +are supposed to be. I have been piloting for about three years now and +I'm almost twenty. Is that younger than usual?" + +Jason opened his mouth--then laughed. "I suppose that all depends on +what planet you're from. Some places you would have trouble getting +licensed. But I'll bet things are different on Pyrrus. By their +standards you must rank as an old lady." + +"Now you're making a joke," Meta said serenely as she fed a figure into +the calculator. "I've seen old ladies on some planets. They are wrinkled +and have gray hair. I don't know how old they are, I asked one but she +wouldn't tell me her age. But I'm sure they must be older than anyone on +Pyrrus, no one looks like that there." + +"I don't mean old that way," Jason groped for the right word. "Not +old--but grown-up, mature. An adult." + +"Everyone is grown-up," she answered. "At least soon after they leave +the wards. And they do that when they're six. My first child is +grown-up, and the second one would be, too, only he's dead. So I +_surely_ must be." + +That seemed to settle the question for her, though Jason's thoughts +jumped with the alien concepts and background, inherent behind her +words. + + * * * * * + +Meta punched in the last setting, and the course tape began to chunk out +of the case. She turned her attention back to Jason. "I'm glad you're +aboard this trip, though I am sorry you are going to Pyrrus. But we'll +have lots of time to talk. There are so many things I want to find out +about other planets, and why people go around acting the way they do. +Not at all like home where you _know_ why people are doing things all +the time." She frowned over the tape for a moment, then turned her +attention back to Jason. "What is your home planet like?" + +One after another the usual lies he told people came to his lips, and +were pushed away. Why bother lying to a girl who really didn't care if +you were serf or noble? To her there were only two kinds of people in +the galaxy--Pyrrans, and the rest. For the first time since he had fled +from Porgorstorsaand he found himself telling someone the truth of his +origin. + +"My home planet? Just about the stuffiest, dullest, dead-end in the +universe. You can't believe the destructive decay of a planet that is +mainly agrarian, caste-conscious and completely satisfied with its own +boring existence. Not only is there no change--but no one _wants_ +change. My father was a farmer, so I should have been a farmer too--if I +had listened to the advice of my betters. It was unthinkable, as well as +forbidden for me to do anything else. And everything I wanted to do was +against the law. I was fifteen before I learned to read--out of a book +stolen from a noble school. After that there was no turning back. By the +time I stowed aboard an off-world freighter at nineteen I must have +broken every law on the planet. Happily. Leaving home for me was just +like getting out of prison." + +Meta shook her head at the thought. "I just can't imagine a place like +that. But I'm sure I wouldn't like it there." + +"I'm sure you wouldn't," Jason laughed. "So once I was in space, with no +law-abiding talents or skills, I just wandered into one thing and +another. In this age of technology I was completely out of place. Oh, I +suppose I could have done well in some army, but I'm not so good at +taking orders. Whenever I gambled I did well, so little by little I just +drifted into it. People are the same everywhere, so I manage to make out +well wherever I end up." + +"I know what you mean about people being alike--but they are so +_different_," she said. "I'm not being clear at all, am I? What I mean +is that at home I know what people will do and why they do it at the +same time. People on all the other planets do act alike, as you said, +yet I have very much trouble understanding why. For instance, I like to +try the local food when we set down on a planet, and if there is time I +always do. There are bars and restaurants near every spaceport so I go +there. And I always have trouble with the men. They want to buy me +drinks, hold my hand--" + +"Well, a single girl in those port joints has to expect a certain amount +of interest from the men." + +"Oh, I know that," she said. "What I don't understand is why they don't +listen when I tell them I am not interested and to go away. They just +laugh and pull up a chair, usually. But I have found that one thing +works wherever I am. I tell them if they don't stop bothering me I'll +break their arm." + +"Does that stop them?" Jason asked. + +"No, of course not. But after I break their arm they go away. And the +others don't bother me either. It's a lot of fuss to go through and the +food is usually awful." + +Jason didn't laugh. Particularly when he realized that this girl _could_ +break the arm of any spaceport thug in the galaxy. She was a strange +mixture of naivete and strength, unlike anyone he had ever met before. +Once again he realized that he _had_ to visit the planet that produced +people like her and Kerk. + +"Tell me about Pyrrus," he asked. "Why is it that you and Kerk assume +automatically that I will drop dead as soon as I land? What is the +planet like?" + +All the warmth was gone from her face now. "I can't tell you. You will +have to see for yourself. I know that much after visiting some of the +other worlds. Pyrrus is like nothing you galaxy people have ever +experienced. You won't really believe it until it is too late. Will you +promise me something?" + +"No," he answered. "At least not until after I hear what it is and +decide." + +"Don't leave the ship when we land. You _should_ be safe enough aboard, +and I'll be flying a cargo out within a few weeks." + +"I'll promise nothing of the sort. I'll leave when I want to leave." +Jason knew there was logic in her words, but his back was up at her +automatic superiority. + +Meta finished the jump settings without another word. There was a +tension in the room that prevented them both from talking. + +It was the next shipday before he saw her again, then it was completely +by accident. She was in the astrogation dome when he entered, looking up +at the sparkling immensity of the jump sky. For the first time he saw +her off duty, wearing something other than a shipsuit. This was a loose, +soft robe that accentuated her beauty. + +She smiled at him. "The stars are so wonderful," she said. "Come look." +Jason came close to her and with an unthinking, almost automatic +movement, put his arm around her. Neither did she resent it, for she +covered his hand with hers. Then they kissed and it was just the way he +knew it would be. + + + + +VI. + + +After that they were together constantly. When Meta was on duty he +brought her meals to the bridge and they talked. Jason learned little +more about her world since, by unspoken agreement, they didn't discuss +it. He talked of the many planets he had visited and the people he had +known. She was an appreciative listener and the time went quickly by. +They enjoyed each other's company and it was a wonderful trip. + +Then it ended. + +There were fourteen people aboard the ship, yet Jason had never seen +more than two or three at a time. There was a fixed rotation of duties +that they followed in the ship's operation. When not on duty the Pyrrans +minded their own business in an intense and self-sufficient manner. Only +when the ship came out of jump and the PA barked _assembly_ did they all +get together. + +Kerk was giving orders for the landing and questions were snapped back +and forth. It was all technical and Jason didn't bother following it. It +was the attitude of the Pyrrans that drew his attention. Their talk +tended to be faster now as were their motions. They were like soldiers +preparing for battle. + +Their sameness struck Jason for the first time. Not that they looked +alike or did the same things. It was the _way_ they moved and reacted +that caused the striking similarity. They were like great, stalking +cats. Walking fast, tense and ready to spring at all times, their eyes +never still for an instant. + +Jason tried to talk to Meta after the meeting, but she was almost a +stranger. She answered in monosyllables and her eyes never met his, just +brushed over them and went on. There was nothing he could really say so +she moved to leave. He started to put his hand out to stop her--then +thought better of it. There would be other times to talk. + +Kerk was the only one who took any notice of him--and then only to order +him to an acceleration couch. + +Meta's landings were infinitely worse than her take-offs. At least when +she landed on Pyrrus. There were sudden acceleration surges in every +direction. At one point there was a free fall that seemed endless. There +were loud thuds against the hull that shook the framework of the ship. +It was more like a battle than a landing, and Jason wondered how much +truth there was in that. + +When the ship finally landed Jason didn't even know it. The constant +2 G's felt like deceleration. Only the descending moan of the ship's +engines convinced him they were down. Unbuckling the straps and sitting +up was an effort. + +Two G's don't seem that bad--at first. Walking required the same +exertion as would carrying a man of his own weight on his shoulders. +When Jason lifted his arm to unlatch the door it was heavy as two arms. +He shuffled slowly towards the main lock. + +[Illustration] + +They were all there ahead of him, two of the men rolling transparent +cylinders from a nearby room. From their obvious weight and the way they +clanged when they bumped, Jason knew they were made of transparent +metal. He couldn't conceive any possible use for them. Empty cylinders a +meter in diameter, longer than a man. One end solid, the other hinged +and sealed. It wasn't until Kerk spun the sealing wheel and opened one +of them that their use became apparent. + +"Get in," Kerk said. "When you're locked inside you'll be carried out of +the ship." + +"Thank you, no," Jason told him. "I have no particular desire to make a +spectacular landing on your planet sealed up like a packaged sausage." + +"Don't be a fool," was Kerk's snapped answer. "We're _all_ going out in +these tubes. We've been away too long to risk the surface without +reorientation." + + * * * * * + +Jason did feel a little foolish as he saw the others getting into tubes. +He picked the nearest one, slid into it feet first, and pulled the lid +closed. When he tightened the wheel in the center, it squeezed down +against a flexible seal. Within a minute the CO{2} content in the closed +cylinder went up and an air regenerator at the bottom hummed into life. + +Kerk was the last one in. He checked the seals on all the other tubes +first, then jabbed the air-lock override release. As it started cycling +he quickly sealed himself in the remaining cylinder. Both inner and +outer locks ground slowly open and dim light filtered in through sheets +of falling rain. + +For Jason, the whole thing seemed an anticlimax. All this preparation +for absolutely nothing. Long, impatient minutes passed before a lift +truck appeared driven by a Pyrran. He loaded the cylinders onto his +truck like so much dead cargo. Jason had the misfortune to be buried at +the bottom of the pile so he could see absolutely nothing when they +drove outside. + +It wasn't until the man-carrying cylinders had been dumped in a +metal-walled room, that Jason saw his first native Pyrran life. + +The lift truck driver was swinging a thick outer door shut when +something flew in through the entrance and struck against the far wall. +Jason's eye was caught by the motion, he looked to see what it was when +it dropped straight down towards his face. + +Forgetful of the metal cylinder wall, he flinched away. The creature +struck the transparent metal and clung to it. Jason had the perfect +opportunity to examine it in every detail. + +It was almost too horrible to be believable. As though it were a bearer +of death stripped to the very essentials. A mouth that split the head in +two, rows of teeth, serrated and pointed. Leathery, claw-tipped wings, +longer claws on the limbs that tore at the metal wall. + +Terror rose up in Jason as he saw that the claws were tearing gouges in +the transparent metal. Wherever the creature's saliva touched the metal +clouded and chipped under the assault of the teeth. + +Logic said these were just scratches on the thick tube. They couldn't +matter. But blind, unreasoning fear sent Jason curling away as far as he +could. Shrinking inside himself, seeking escape. + +Only when the flying creature began dissolving did he realize the nature +of the room outside. Sprays of steaming liquid came from all sides, +raining down until the cylinders were covered. After one last clash of +its jaws, the Pyrran animal was washed off and carried away. The liquid +drained away through the floor and a second and third shower followed. + +While the solutions were being pumped away, Jason fought to bring his +emotions into line. He was surprised at himself. No matter how frightful +the creature had been, he couldn't understand the fear it could generate +through the wall of the sealed tube. His reaction was all out of +proportion to the cause. Even with the creature destroyed and washed out +of sight it took all of his will power to steady his nerves and bring +his breathing back to normal. + + * * * * * + +Meta walked by outside and he realized the sterilization process was +finished. He opened his own tube and climbed wearily out. Meta and the +others had gone by this time and only a hawk-faced stranger remained, +waiting for him. + +"I'm Brucco, in charge of the adaptation clinic. Kerk told me who you +were. I'm sorry you're here. Now come along, I want some blood samples." + +"Now I feel right at home," Jason said. "The old Pyrran hospitality." +Brucco only grunted and stamped out. Jason followed him down a bare +corridor into a sterile lab. + +The double gravity was tiring, a constant drag on sore muscles. While +Brucco ran tests on the blood sample, Jason rested. He had almost dozed +off into a painful sleep when Brucco returned with a tray of bottles and +hypodermic needles. + +"Amazing," he announced. "Not an antibody in your serum that would be of +any use on this planet. I have a batch of antigens here that will make +you sick as a beast for at least a day. Take off your shirt." + +"Have you done this often?" Jason asked. "I mean juice up an outlander +so he can enjoy the pleasures of your world?" + +Brucco jammed in a needle that felt like it grated on the bone. "Not +often at all. Last time was years ago. A half-dozen researchers from +some institute, willing to pay well for the chance to study the local +life forms. We didn't say no. Always need more galaxy currency." + +Jason was already beginning to feel light-headed from the shots. "How +many of them lived?" he mumbled vaguely. + +"One. We got him off in time. Made them pay in advance of course." + +At first Jason thought the Pyrran was joking. Then he remembered they +had very little interest in humor of any kind. If one-half of what Meta +and Kerk had told him was true, six to one odds weren't bad at all. + +There was a bed in the next room and Brucco helped him to it. Jason felt +drugged and probably was. He fell into a deep sleep and into the dream. + +Fear and hatred mixed in equal parts and washed over him red hot. If +this was a dream, he never wanted to sleep again. If it wasn't a dream, +he wanted to die. He tried to fight up against it, but only sank in more +deeply. There was no beginning and no end to the fear and no way to +escape. + +When consciousness returned Jason could remember no detail of the +nightmare. Just the fear remained. He was soaked with sweat and ached in +every muscle. It must have been the massive dose of shots, he finally +decided, that and the brutal gravity. That didn't take the taste of fear +out of his mouth, though. + +Brucco stuck his head in the door then and looked Jason up and down. +"Thought you were dead," he said. "Slept the clock around. Don't move, +I'll get something to pick you up." + +The pickup was in the form of another needle and a glassful of +evil-looking fluid. It settled his thirst, but made him painfully aware +of gnawing hunger. + +"Want to eat?" Brucco asked. "I'll bet you do. I've speeded up your +metabolism so you'll build muscle faster. Only way you'll ever beat the +gravity. Give you quite an appetite for a while though." + +Brucco ate at the same time and Jason had a chance to ask some +questions. "When do I get a chance to look around your fascinating +planet? So far this trip has been about as interesting as a jail term." + +"Relax and enjoy your food. Probably be months before you're able to go +outside. If at all." + +Jason felt his jaw hanging and closed it with a snap. "Could you +possibly tell me why?" + +"Of course. You will have to go through the same training course that +our children take. It takes them six years. Of course it's their first +six years of life. So you might think that you, as an adult, could learn +faster. Then again they have the advantage of heredity. All I can say is +you'll go outside these sealed buildings when you're ready." + +Brucco had finished eating while he talked, and sat staring at Jason's +bare arms with growing disgust. "The first thing we want to get you is a +gun," he said. "It gives me a sick feeling to see someone without one." + +Of course Brucco wore his own gun continually, even within the sealed +buildings. + +"Every gun is fitted to its owner and would be useless on anyone else," +Brucco said. "I'll show you why." He led Jason to an armory jammed with +deadly weapons. "Put your arm in this while I make the adjustments." + + * * * * * + +It was a boxlike machine with a pistol grip on the side. Jason clutched +the grip and rested his elbow on a metal loop. Brucco fixed pointers +that touched his arm, then copied the results from the meters. Reading +the figures from his list he selected various components from bins and +quickly assembled a power holster and gun. With the holster strapped to +his forearm and the gun in his hand, Jason noticed for the first time +they were connected by a flexible cable. The gun fitted his hand +perfectly. + +"This is the secret of the power holster," Brucco said, tapping the +flexible cable. "It is perfectly loose while you are using the weapon. +But when you want it returned to the holster--" Brucco made an +adjustment and the cable became a stiff rod that whipped the gun from +Jason's hand and suspended it in midair. + +"Then the return." The rod-cable whirred and snapped the gun back into +the holster. "The drawing action is the opposite of this, of course." + +"A great gadget," Jason said, "but how _do_ I draw? Do I whistle or +something for the gun to pop out?" + +"No, it is not sonic control," Brucco answered with a sober face. "It is +much more precise than that. Here, take your left hand and grasp an +imaginary gun butt. Tense your trigger finger. Do you notice the pattern +of the tendons in the wrist? Sensitive actuators touch the tendons in +your right wrist. They ignore all patterns except the one that says +_hand ready to receive gun_. After a time the mechanism becomes +completely automatic. When you want the gun--it is in your hand. When +you don't--it is in the holster." + +Jason made grasping motions with his right hand, crooked his index +finger. There was a sudden, smashing pain against his hand and a loud +roar. The gun was in his hand--half the fingers were numb--and smoke +curled up from the barrel. + +"Of course there are only blank charges in the gun until you learn +control. Guns are _always_ loaded. There is no safety. Notice the lack +of a trigger guard. That enables you to bend your trigger finger a +slight bit more when drawing so the gun will fire the instant it touches +your hand." + +It was without a doubt the most murderous weapon Jason had ever +handled, as well as being the hardest to manage. Working against the +muscle-burning ache of high gravity, he fought to control the devilish +device. It had an infuriating way of vanishing into the holster just as +he was about to pull the trigger. Even worse was the tendency to leap +out before he was quite ready. The gun went to the position where his +hand should be. If the fingers weren't correctly placed, they were +crashed aside. Jason only stopped the practice when his entire hand was +one livid bruise. + +Complete mastery would come with time, but he could already understand +why the Pyrrans never removed their guns. It would be like removing a +part of your own body. The movement of gun from holster to hand was too +fast for him to detect. It was certainly faster than the neural current +that shaped the hand into the gun-holding position. For all apparent +purposes it was like having a lightning bolt in your fingertip. Point +the finger and _blamm_, there's the explosion. + + * * * * * + +Brucco had left Jason to practice alone. When his aching hand could take +no more, he stopped and headed back towards his own quarters. Turning a +corner he had a quick glimpse of a familiar figure going away from him. + +"Meta! Wait for a second--I want to talk to you." + +She turned impatiently as he shuffled up, going as fast as he could in +the doubled gravity. Everything about her seemed different from the girl +he had known on the ship. Heavy boots came as high as her knees, her +figure was lost in bulky coveralls of some metallic fabric. The trim +waist was bulged out by a belt of canisters. Her very expression was +coldly distant. + +"I've missed you," he said. "I hadn't realized you were in this +building." He reached for her hand but she moved it out of his reach. + +"What is it you want?" she asked. + +"What is it I want!" he echoed with barely concealed anger. "This is +Jason, remember me? We're friends. It _is_ allowed for friends to talk +without 'wanting' anything." + +"What happened on the ship has nothing to do with what happens on +Pyrrus." She started forward impatiently as she talked. "I have finished +my reconditioning and must return to work. You'll be staying here in the +sealed buildings so I won't be seeing you." + +"Why don't you say 'with the rest of the children'--that's what your +tone implies? And don't try walking out, there are some things we have +to settle first--" + +Jason made the mistake of putting out his hand to stop her. He didn't +really know what happened next. One instant he was standing--the next he +sprawled suddenly on the floor. His shoulder was badly bruised, and Meta +had vanished down the corridor. + +Limping back to his own room he cursed women in general and Meta in +particular. Dropping onto his rock-hard bed he tried to remember the +reasons that had brought him here in the first place. And weighed them +against the perpetual torture of the gravity, the fear-filled dreams it +inspired, the automatic contempt of these people for any outsider. He +quickly checked the growing tendency to feel sorry for himself. By +Pyrran standards he _was_ soft and helpless. If he wanted them to think +any better of him, he would have to change a good deal. + +He sank into a fatigue-drugged sleep then, that was broken only by the +screaming fear of his dreams. + + + + +VII. + + +In the morning Jason awoke with a bad headache and the feeling he had +never been to sleep. As he took some of the carefully portioned +stimulants that Brucco had given him, he wondered again about the +combination of factors that filled his sleep with such horror. + +"Eat quickly," Brucco told him when they met in the dining room. "I can +no longer spare you time for individual instruction. You will join the +regular classes and take the prescribed courses. Only come to me if +there is some special problem that the instructors or trainers can't +handle." + +The classes--as Jason should have expected--were composed of stern-faced +little children. With their compact bodies and no-nonsense mannerisms +they were recognizably Pyrran. But they were still children enough to +consider it very funny to have an adult in their classes. Jammed behind +one of the tiny desks, the red-faced Jason did not think it was much of +a joke. + +All resemblance to a normal school ended with the physical form of the +classroom. For one thing, every child--no matter how small--packed a +gun. And the courses were all involved with survival. The only possible +grade in a curriculum like this was one hundred per cent and students +stayed with a lesson until they mastered it perfectly. No courses were +offered in the normal scholastic subjects. Presumably these were studied +after the child graduated survival school and could face the world +alone. Which was a logical and cold-hearted way of looking at things. In +fact, logical and cold-hearted could describe any Pyrran activity. + +Most of the morning was spent on the operation of one of the medikits +that strapped around the waist. This was a poison analyzer that was +pressed over a puncture wound. If any toxins were present, the antidote +was automatically injected on the site. Simple in operation but +incredibly complex in construction. Since all Pyrrans serviced their own +equipment--you could then only blame yourself if it failed--they had to +learn the construction and repair of all the devices. Jason did much +better than the child students, though the effort exhausted him. + +In the afternoon he had his first experience with a training machine. +His instructor was a twelve-year-old boy, whose cold voice didn't +conceal his contempt for the soft off-worlder. + +"All the training machines are physical duplicates of the real surface +of the planet, corrected constantly as the life forms change. The only +difference between them is the varying degree of deadliness. This first +machine you will use is of course the one infants are put into--" + +"You're too kind," Jason murmured. "Your flattery overwhelms me." The +instructor continued, taking no notice of the interruption. + +"... Infants are put into as soon as they can crawl. It is real in +substance, though completely deactivated." + + * * * * * + +Training machine was the wrong word, Jason realized as they entered +through the thick door. This was a chunk of the outside world duplicated +in an immense chamber. It took very little suspension of reality for him +to forget the painted ceiling and artificial sun high above and imagine +himself outdoors at last. The scene _seemed_ peaceful enough. Though +clouds banking on the horizon threatened a violent Pyrran storm. + +"You must wander around and examine things," the instructor told Jason. +"Whenever you touch something with your hand, you will be told about it. +Like this--" + +The boy bent over and pushed his finger against a blade of the soft +grass that covered the ground. Immediately a voice barked from hidden +speakers. + +"Poison grass. Boots to be worn at all times." + +Jason kneeled and examined the grass. The blade was tipped with a hard, +shiny hook. He realized with a start that every single blade of grass +was the same. The soft green lawn was a carpet of death. As he +straightened up he glimpsed something under a broad-leafed plant. A +crouching, scale-covered animal, whose tapered head terminated in a long +spike. + +"What's _that_ in the bottom of my garden?" he asked. "You certainly +give the babies pleasant playmates." Jason turned and realized he was +talking to the air, the instructor was gone. He shrugged and petted the +scaly monstrosity. + +"Horndevil," the impersonal voice said from midair. "Clothing and shoes +no protection. Kill it." + +A sharp _crack_ shattered the silence as Jason's gun went off. The +horndevil fell on its side, keyed to react to the blank charge. + +"Well ... I _am_ learning," Jason said, and the thought pleased him. The +words _kill it_ had been used by Brucco while teaching him to use the +gun. Their stimulus had reached an unconscious level. He was aware of +wanting to shoot only after he had heard the shot. His respect for +Pyrran training techniques went up. + +Jason spent a thoroughly unpleasant afternoon wandering in the child's +garden of horror. Death was everywhere. While all the time the +disembodied voice gave him stern advice in simple language. So he could +do unto, rather than being done in. He had never realized that violent +death could come in so many repulsive forms. _Everything_ here was +deadly to man--from the smallest insect to the largest plant. + +Such singleness of purpose seemed completely unnatural. Why was this +planet so alien to human life? He made a mental note to ask Brucco. +Meanwhile he tried to find one life form that wasn't out for his blood. +He didn't succeed. After a long search he found the only thing that when +touched didn't elicit deadly advice. This was a chunk of rock that +projected from a meadow of poison grass. Jason sat on it with a friendly +feeling and pulled his feet up. An oasis of peace. Some minutes passed +while he rested his gravity-weary body. + +"ROTFUNGUS--DO NOT TOUCH!" + +The voice blasted at twice its normal volume and Jason leaped as if he +had been shot. The gun was in his hand, nosing about for a target. Only +when he bent over and looked closely at the rock where he had been +sitting, did he understand. There were flaky gray patches that hadn't +been there when he sat down. + +"Oh you tricky devils!" he shouted at the machine. "How many kids have +you frightened off that rock after they thought they had found a little +peace!" He resented the snide bit of conditioning, but respected it at +the same time. Pyrrans learned very early in life that there was no +safety on this planet--except that which they provided for themselves. + +While he was learning about Pyrrus he was gaining new insight into the +Pyrrans as well. + + + + +VIII. + + +Days turned into weeks in the school, cut off from the world outside. +Jason almost became proud of his ability to deal death. He recognized +all the animals and plants in the nursery room and had been promoted to +a trainer where the beasts made sluggish charges at him. His gun picked +off the attackers with dull regularity. The constant, daily classes were +beginning to bore him as well. + +Though the gravity still dragged at him, his muscles were making great +efforts to adjust. After the daily classes he no longer collapsed +immediately into bed. Only the nightmares got worse. He had finally +mentioned them to Brucco, who mixed up a sleeping potion that took away +most of their effect. The dreams were still there, but Jason was only +vaguely aware of them upon awakening. + +By the time Jason had mastered all the gadgetry that kept the Pyrrans +alive, he had graduated to a most realistic trainer that was only a +hair-breadth away from the real thing. The difference was just in +quality. The insect poisons caused swelling and pain instead of instant +death. Animals could cause bruises and tear flesh, but stopped short of +ripping off limbs. You couldn't get killed in this trainer, but could +certainly come very close to it. + +Jason wandered through this large and rambling jungle with the rest of +the five-year-olds. There was something a bit humorous, yet sad, about +their unchildlike grimness. Though they still might laugh in their +quarters, they realized there was no laughing outside. To them survival +was linked up with social acceptance and desirability. In this way +Pyrrus was a simple black-and-white society. To prove your value to +yourself and your world, you only had to stay alive. This had great +importance in racial survival, but had very stultifying effects on +individual personality. Children were turned into like-faced killers, +always on the alert to deal out death. + +Some of the children graduated into the outside world and others took +their places. Jason watched this process for a while before he realized +that all of those from the original group he had entered with were gone. +That same day he looked up the chief of the adaptation center. + +"Brucco," Jason asked, "how long do you plan to keep me in this +kindergarten shooting gallery?" + +"You're not being 'kept' here," Brucco told him in his usual irritated +tone. "You will be here until you qualify for the outside." + +[Illustration] + +"Which I have a funny feeling will be never. I can now field strip and +reassemble every one of your blasted gadgets in the dark. I am a dead +shot with this cannon. At this present moment, if I had to, I could +write a book on the Complete Flora and Fauna of Pyrrus, and How to Kill +It. Perhaps I don't do as well as my six-year-old companions, but I have +a hunch I do about as good a job now as I ever will. Is that true?" + +Brucco squirmed with the effort to be evasive, yet didn't succeed. "I +think, that is, you know you weren't born here, and--" + +"Come, come," Jason said with glee, "a straight-faced old Pyrran like +you shouldn't try to lie to one of the weaker races that specialize in +that sort of thing. It goes without saying that I'll always be sluggish +with this gravity, as well as having other inborn handicaps. I admit +that. We're not talking about that now. The question is--will I improve +with more training, or have I reached a peak of my own _development_ +now?" + +Brucco sweated. "With the passage of time there will be improvement of +course--" + +"Sly devil!" Jason waggled a finger at him. "Yes or no, now. Will I +improve _now_ by more training _now_?" + +"No," Brucco said, and still looked troubled. Jason sized him up like a +poker hand. + +"Now let's think about that. I won't improve--yet I'm still stuck here. +That's no accident. So you must have been ordered to keep me here. And +from what I have seen of this planet, admittedly very little, I would +say that Kerk ordered you to keep me here. Is that right?" + +"He was only doing it for your own sake," Brucco explained, "trying to +keep you alive." + +"The truth is out," Jason said, "so let us now forget about it. I didn't +come here to shoot robots with your offspring. So please show me the +street door. Or is there a graduating ceremony first? Speeches, handing +out school pins, sabers overhead--" + +"Nothing like that," Brucco snapped. "I don't see how a grown man like +you can talk such nonsense all the time. There is none of that, of +course. Only some final work in the partial survival chamber. That is a +compound that connects with the outside--really is a part of the +outside--except the most violent life forms are excluded. And even some +of those manage to find their way in once in a while." + +"When do I go?" Jason shot the question. + +"Tomorrow morning. Get a good night's sleep first. You'll need it." + + * * * * * + +There was one bit of ceremony attendant with the graduation. When Jason +came into his office in the morning, Brucco slid a heavy gun clip across +the table. + +"These are live bullets," he said. "I'm sure you'll be needing them. +After this your gun will always be loaded." + +They came up to a heavy air lock, the only locked door Jason had seen in +the center. While Brucco unlocked it and threw the bolts, a sober-faced +eight-year-old with a bandaged leg limped up. + +"This is Grif," Brucco said. "He will stay with you, wherever you go, +from now on." + +"My personal bodyguard?" Jason asked, looking down at the stocky child +who barely reached his waist. + +"You might call him that." Brucco swung the door open. "Grif tangled +with a sawbird, so he won't be able to do any real work for a while. You +yourself admitted that you will never be able to equal a Pyrran, so you +should be glad of a little protection." + +"Always a kind word, that's you, Brucco," Jason said. He bent over and +shook hands with the boy. Even the eight-year-olds had a bone-crushing +grip. + +The two of them entered the lock and Brucco swung the inner door shut +behind them. As soon as it was sealed the outer door opened +automatically. It was only partly open when Grif's gun blasted twice. +Then they stepped out onto the surface of Pyrrus, over the smoking body +of one of its animals. + +Very symbolic, Jason thought. He was also bothered by the realization +that he hadn't remembered to look for something coming in. Then, too, he +couldn't even identify the beast from its charred remains. He glanced +around, hoping he would be able to fire first himself, next time. + +This was an unfulfilled hope. The few beasts that came their way were +always seen first by the boy. After an hour of this, Jason was so +irritated that he blasted an evil-looking thorn plant out of existence. +He hoped that Grif wouldn't look too closely at it. Of course the boy +did. + +"That plant wasn't close. It is stupid to waste good ammunition on a +plant," Grif said. + +There was no real trouble during the day. Jason ended by being bored, +though soaked by the frequent rainstorms. If Grif was capable of +carrying on a conversation, he didn't show it. All Jason's gambits +failed. The following day went the same way. On the third day, Brucco +appeared and looked Jason carefully up and down. + +"I don't like to say it, but I suppose you are as ready to leave now as +you ever will be. Change the virus filter noseplugs every day. Always +check boots for tears and metalcloth suiting for rips. Medikit supplies +renewed once a week." + +"And wipe my nose and wear my galoshes. Anything else?" Jason asked. + +Brucco started to say something, then changed his mind. "Nothing that +you shouldn't know well by now. Keep alert. And ... good luck." He +followed up the words with a crushing handshake that was totally +unexpected. As soon as the numbness left Jason's hand, he and Grif went +out through the large entrance lock. + + + + +IX. + + +Real as they had been, the training chambers had not prepared him for +the surface of Pyrrus. There was the basic similarity of course. The +feel of the poison grass underfoot and the erratic flight of a stingwing +in the last instant before Grif blasted it. But these were scarcely +noticeable in the crash of the elements around him. + +A heavy rain was falling, more like a sheet of water than individual +drops. Gusts of wind tore at it, hurling the deluge into his face. He +wiped his eyes clear and could barely make out the conical forms of two +volcanoes on the horizon, vomiting out clouds of smoke and flame. The +reflection of this inferno was a sullen redness on the clouds that raced +by in banks above them. + +There was a rattle on his hard hat and something bounced off to splash +to the ground. He bent over and picked up a hailstone as thick as his +thumb. A sudden flurry of hail hammered painfully at his back and neck, +he straightened hurriedly. + +As quickly as it started the storm was over. The sun burned down, +melting the hailstones and sending curls of steam up from the wet +street. Jason sweated inside his armored clothing. Yet before they had +gone a block it was raining again and he shook with chill. + +Grif trudged steadily along, indifferent to the weather or the volcanoes +that rumbled on the horizon and shook the ground beneath their feet. +Jason tried to ignore his discomfort and match the boy's pace. + +The walk was a depressing one. The heavy, squat buildings loomed grayly +through the rain, more than half of them in ruins. They walked on a +pedestrian way in the middle of the street. The occasional armored +trucks went by on both sides of them. The midstreet sidewalk puzzled +Jason until Grif blasted something that hurtled out of a ruined building +towards them. The central location gave them some chance to see what was +coming. Suddenly Jason was very tired. + +"Grif, this city of yours is sure down at the heels. I hope the other +ones are in better shape." + +"I don't know what you mean talking about heels. But there are no other +cities. Some mining camps that can't be located inside the perimeter. +But no other cities." + +This surprised Jason. He had always visualized the planet with more than +one city. There were a _lot_ of things he didn't know about Pyrrus, he +realized suddenly. All of his efforts since landing had been taken up +with the survival studies. There were a number of questions he wanted to +ask. But ask them of somebody other than his grouchy eight-year-old +bodyguard. There was one person who would be best equipped to tell him +what he wanted to know. + +"Do you know Kerk?" he asked the boy. "Apparently he's your ambassador +to a lot of places, but his last name--" + +"Sure, everybody knows Kerk. But he's busy, you shouldn't see him." + +Jason shook a finger at him. "Minder of my body you may be. But minder +of my soul you are not. What do you say I call the shots and you go +along to shoot the monsters? O.K.?" + + * * * * * + +They took shelter from a sudden storm of fist-sized hailstones. Then, +with ill grace, Grif led the way to one of the larger, central +buildings. There were more people here and some of them even glanced at +Jason for a minute, before turning back to their business. Jason dragged +himself up two flights of stairs before they reached a door marked +CO-ORDINATION AND SUPPLY. + +"Kerk in here?" Jason asked. + +"Sure," the boy told him. "He's in charge." + +"Fine. Now you get a nice cold drink, or your lunch, or something, and +meet me back here in a couple of hours. I imagine Kerk can do as good a +job of looking after me as you can." + +The boy stood doubtfully for a few seconds, then turned away. Jason +wiped off some more sweat and pushed through the door. + +There were a handful of people in the office beyond. None of them looked +up at Jason or asked his business. Everything has a purpose on Pyrrus. +If he came there--he must have had a good reason. No one would ever +think to ask him what he wanted. Jason, used to the petty officialdom of +a thousand worlds, waited for a few moments before he understood. There +was only one other door. He shuffled over and opened it. + +Kerk looked up from a desk strewed about with papers and ledgers. "I was +wondering when you would show up," he said. + +"A lot sooner if you hadn't prevented it," Jason told him as he dropped +wearily into a chair. "It finally dawned on me that I could spend the +rest of my life in your blood-thirsty nursery school if I didn't do +something about it. So here I am." + +"Ready to return to the 'civilized' worlds, now that you've seen enough +of Pyrrus?" + +"I am not," Jason said. "And I'm getting very tired of everyone telling +me to leave. I'm beginning to think that you and the rest of the Pyrrans +are trying to hide something." + +Kerk smiled at the thought. "What could we have to hide? I doubt if any +planet has as simple and one-directional an existence as ours." + +"If that's true, then you certainly wouldn't mind answering a few direct +questions about Pyrrus?" + +Kerk started to protest, then laughed. "Well done. I should know better +by now than to argue with you. What do you want to know?" + +Jason tried to find a comfortable position on the hard chair, then gave +up. "What's the population of your planet?" he asked. + +For a second Kerk hesitated, then said, "Roughly thirty thousand. That +is not very much for a planet that has been settled this long, but the +reason for that is obvious." + +"All right, population thirty thousand," Jason said. "Now how about +surface control of your planet. I was surprised to find out that this +city within its protective wall--the perimeter--is the only one on the +planet. Let's not consider the mining camps, since they are obviously +just extensions of the city. Would you say then, that you people control +more or less of the planet's surface than you did in the past?" + + * * * * * + +Kerk picked up a length of steel pipe from the desk, that he used as a +paperweight, and toyed with it as he thought. The thick steel bent like +rubber at his touch, as he concentrated on his answer. + +"That's hard to say offhand. There must be records of that sort of +thing, though I wouldn't know where to find them. It depends on so many +factors--" + +"Let's forget that for now then," Jason said. "I have another question +that's really more relevant. Wouldn't you say that the population of +Pyrrus is declining steadily, year after year?" + +There was a sharp _twang_ as the steel snapped in Kerk's fingers, the +pieces dropping to the floor. He stood, over Jason, his hands extended +towards the smaller man, his face flushed and angry. + +"Don't ever say that," he roared. "Don't let me ever hear you say that +again!" + +Jason sat as quietly as he could, talking slowly and picking out each +word with care. His life hung in the balance. + +"Don't get angry, Kerk. I meant no harm. I'm on your side, remember? I +can talk to you because you've seen much more of the universe than the +Pyrrans who have never left the planet. You are used to discussing +things. You know that words are just symbols. We can talk and know you +don't have to lose your temper over mere words--" + +Kerk slowly lowered his arms and stepped away. Then he turned and poured +himself a glass of water from a bottle on the desk. He kept his back +turned to Jason while he drank. + +Very little of the sweat that Jason wiped from his sopping face was +caused by the heat in the room. + +"I'm ... sorry I lost my temper," Kerk said, dropping heavily into his +chair. "Doesn't usually happen. Been working hard lately, must have got +my temper on edge." He made no mention of what Jason had said. + +"Happens to all of us," Jason told him. "I won't begin to describe the +condition my nerves were in when I hit this planet. I'm finally forced +to admit that everything you said about Pyrrus is true. It is the most +deadly spot in the system. And only native-born Pyrrans could possibly +survive here. I can manage to fumble along a bit after my training, but +I know I would never stand a chance on my own. You probably know I have +an eight-year-old as a bodyguard. Gives a good idea of my real status +here." + +Anger suppressed, Kerk was back in control of himself now. His eyes +narrowed in thought. "Surprises me to hear you say that. Never thought I +would hear you admit that anyone could be better than you at anything. +Isn't that why you came here? To prove that you were as good as any +native-born Pyrran?" + +"Score one for your side," Jason admitted. "I didn't think it showed +that much. And I'm glad to see your mind isn't as muscle-bound as your +body. Yes, I'll admit that was probably my main reason for coming, that +and curiosity." + +Kerk was following his own train of thoughts, and puzzled where they +were leading him. "You came here to prove that you were as good as any +native-born Pyrran. Yet now you admit that any eight-year-old can +outdraw you. That just doesn't stack up with what I know about you. If +you give with one hand, you must be taking back with the other. In what +way do you still feel your natural superiority?" + +Jason thought a long time before answering. + +"I'll tell you," he finally said. "But don't snap my neck for it. I'm +gambling that your civilized mind can control your reflexes. Because I +have to talk about things that are strictly taboo on Pyrrus. + +"In your people's eyes I'm a weakling because I come from off-world. +Realize though, that this is also my strength. I can see things that are +hidden from you by long association. You know, the old business of not +being able to see the forest for the trees in the way." Kerk nodded +agreement and Jason went on. + +"To continue the analogy further, I landed from an airship, and at +first all I _could_ see was the forest. To me certain facts are +obvious. I think that you people know them too, only you keep your +thoughts carefully repressed. They are hidden thoughts that are +completely taboo. I am going to say one of them out loud now and hope +you can control yourself well enough to not kill me." + +Kerk's great hands tightened on the arms of his chair, the only sign +that he had heard. Jason talked quietly, as smoothly and easily as a +lancet probing into a brain. + +"Human beings are losing the war on Pyrrus. There is no chance they can +win. They could leave for another planet, but that wouldn't be victory. +Yet, if they stay and continue this war, they only prolong a +particularly bloody form of racial suicide. With each generation the +population drops. Until eventually the planet will win." + +One arm of Kerk's plastic and steel chair tore loose under the crushing +grasp of his fingers. He didn't notice it. The rest of his body was +rock-still and his eyes fixed on Jason. + +Looking away from the fractured chair, Jason sought for the right words. + +"This is not a real war, but a disastrous treating of symptoms. Like +cutting off cancerous fingers one by one. The only result can be +ultimate death. None of you seem to realize that. All you see are the +trees. It has never occurred to you that you could treat the _causes_ of +this war and end it forever." + +Kerk dropped the arm of the chair clattering to the floor. He sat up, +astonished. "What the devil do you mean? You sound like a grubber." + +Jason didn't ask what a grubber was--but he filed the name. + +"Call me a Pyrran by adoption. I want this planet to survive as much as +you do. I think this war can be ended by finding the _causes_--and +changing them, whatever they are." + +"You're talking nonsense," Kerk said. "This is just an alien world that +must be battled. The causes are self-obvious facts of existence." + +"No, they're not," Jason insisted. "Consider for a second. When you are +away for any length of time from this planet, you must take a refresher +course. To see how things have changed for the worse while you were +gone. Well, that's a linear progression. If things get worse when you +extend into the future, then they have to get better if you extend into +the past. It is also good theory--though I don't know if the facts will +bear me out--to say that if you extend it far enough into the past you +will reach a time when mankind and Pyrrus were not at war with each +other." + +Kerk was beyond speech now, only capable of sitting and listening while +Jason drove home the blows of inescapable logic. + +"There is evidence to support this theory. Even you will admit that I, +if I am no match for Pyrran life, am surely well versed in it. And all +Pyrran flora and fauna I've seen have one thing in common. They're not +functional. _None_ of their immense armory of weapons is used against +each other. Their toxins don't seem to operate against Pyrran life. They +are good only for dispensing death to Homo sapiens. And _that_ is a +physical impossibility. In the three hundred years that men have been on +this planet, the life forms couldn't have naturally adapted in this +manner." + +"But they _have_ done it!" Kerk bellowed. + +"You are so right," Jason told him calmly. "And if they have done it +there must be some agency at work. Operating how--I have no idea. But +something has caused the life on Pyrrus to declare war, and I'd like to +find out what that something is. What was the dominant life form here +when your ancestors landed?" + +[Illustration] + +"I'm sure I wouldn't know," Kerk said. "You're not suggesting, are you, +that there are sentient beings on Pyrrus other than those of human +descent? Creatures who are organizing the planet to battle us?" + +"I'm not suggesting it--you are. That means you're getting the idea. I +have no idea what caused this change, but I would sure like to find out. +Then see if it can be changed back. Nothing promised, of course. You'll +agree, though, that it is worth investigating." + + * * * * * + +Fist smacking into his palm, his heavy footsteps shaking the building, +Kerk paced back and forth the length of the room. He was at war with +himself. New ideas fought old beliefs. It was so sudden--and so hard not +to believe. + +Without asking permission Jason helped himself to some chilled water +from the bottle, and sank back into the chair, exhausted. Something +whizzed in through the open window, tearing a hole in the protective +screen. Kerk blasted it without changing stride, without even knowing he +had done it. + +The decision didn't take long. Geared to swift activity, the big Pyrran +found it impossible not to decide quickly. The pacing stopped and a +finger stabbed at Jason. + +"I don't say you have convinced me, but I find it impossible to find a +ready answer to your arguments. So until I do, we will have to operate +as if they are true. Now what do you plan to do, what _can_ you do?" + +Jason ticked the points off on his fingers. "One, I'll need a place to +live and work that is well protected. So instead of spending my energies +on just remaining alive I can devote some study to this project. Two, I +want someone to help me--and act as a bodyguard at the same time. And +someone, please, with a little more scope of interest than my present +watchdog. I would suggest Meta for the job." + +"Meta?" Kerk was surprised. "She is a space pilot and defense-screen +operator, what good could she possibly be on a project like this?" + +"The most good possible. She has had experience on other worlds and can +shift her point of view--at least a bit. And she must know as much about +this planet as any other educated adult and can answer any questions I +ask." Jason smiled. "In addition to which she is an attractive girl, +whose company I enjoy." + +Kerk grunted. "I was wondering if you would get around to mentioning +that last reason. The others make sense though, so I'm not going to +argue. I'll round up a replacement for her and have Meta sent here. +There are plenty of sealed buildings you can use." + +After talking to one of the assistants from the outer office, Kerk made +some calls on the screen. The correct orders were quickly issued. Jason +watched it all with interest. + +"Pardon me for asking," he finally said. "But are you the dictator of +this planet? You just snap your fingers and they all jump." + +"I suppose it looks that way," Kerk admitted. "But that is just an +illusion. No one is in complete charge on Pyrrus, neither is there +anything resembling a democratic system. After all, our total population +is about the size of an army division. Everyone does the job they are +best qualified for. Various activities are separated into departments +with the most qualified person in charge. I run Co-ordination and +Supply, which is about the loosest category. We fill in the gaps between +departments and handle procuring from off-planet." + + * * * * * + +Meta came in then and talked to Kerk. She completely ignored Jason's +presence. "I was relieved and sent here," she said. "What is it? Change +in flight schedule?" + +"You might call it that," Kerk said. "As of now you are dismissed from +all your old assignments and assigned to a new department: Investigation +and Research. That tired-looking fellow there is your department head." + +"A sense of humor," Jason said. "The only native-born one on Pyrrus. +Congratulations, there's hope for the planet yet." + +Meta glanced back and forth between them. "I don't understand. I can't +believe it. I mean a new department--why?" + +"I'm sorry," Kerk said. "I didn't mean to be cruel. I thought perhaps +you might feel more at ease. What I said was true. Jason has a way--or +may have a way--to be of immense value to Pyrrus. Will you help him?" + +Meta had her composure back. And a little anger. "Do I have to? Is that +an order? You know I have work to do. I'm sure you will realize it is +more important than something a person from _off-planet_ might imagine. +He can't really understand--" + +"Yes. It's an order." The snap was back in Kerk's voice. Meta flushed at +the tone. + +"Perhaps I can explain," Jason broke in. "After all the whole thing is +my idea. But first I would like your co-operation. Will you take the +clip out of your gun and give it to Kerk?" + +Meta looked frightened, but Kerk nodded in solemn agreement. "Just for a +few minutes, Meta. I have my gun so you will be safe here. I think I +know what Jason has in mind, and from personal experience I'm afraid he +is right." + +Reluctantly Meta passed over the clip and cleared the charge in the +gun's chamber. Only then did Jason explain. + +"I have a theory about life on Pyrrus, and I'm afraid I'll have to +shatter some illusions when I explain. To begin with, the fact must be +admitted that your people are slowly losing the war here and will +eventually be destroyed--" + +Before he was half through the sentence, Meta's gun was directed between +his eyes and she was wildly snapping the trigger. There was only hatred +and revulsion in her expression. Kerk took her by the shoulders and sat +her in his chair, before anything worse happened. It took a while before +she could calm down enough to listen to Jason's words. It is not easy to +have the carefully built-up falsehoods of a lifetime shattered. Only the +fact that she had seen something of other worlds enabled her to listen +at all. + +The light of unreason was still in her eyes when he had finished, +telling her the things he and Kerk had discussed. She sat tensely, +pushed forward against Kerk's hands, as if they were the only things +that stopped her from leaping at Jason. + +"Maybe that is too much to assimilate at one sitting," Jason said. "So +let's put it in simpler terms. I believe we can find a reason for this +unrelenting hatred of humans. Perhaps we don't smell right. Maybe I'll +find an essence of crushed Pyrran bugs that will render us immune when +we rub it in. I don't know yet. But whatever the results, we _must_ make +the investigation. Kerk agrees with me on that." + +Meta looked at Kerk and he nodded agreement. Her shoulders slumped in +sudden defeat. She whispered the words. + +"I ... can't say I agree, or even understand all that you said. But I'll +help you. If Kerk thinks that it is the right thing." + +"I do," he said. "Now, do you want the clip back for your gun? Not +planning to take any more shots at Jason?" + +"That was foolish of me," she said coldly while she reloaded the gun. "I +don't need a gun. If I had to kill him, I could do it with my bare +hands." + +"I love you, too," Jason smiled at her. "Are you ready to go now?" + +"Of course." She brushed a fluffy curl of hair into place. "First we'll +find a place where you can stay. I'll take care of that. After that the +work of the new department is up to you." + + + + +X. + + +There were empty rooms in one of the computer buildings. These were +completely sealed to keep stray animal life out of the delicate +machinery. While Meta checked a bed-roll out of stores, Jason painfully +dragged a desk, table and chairs in from a nearby empty office. When she +returned with a pneumatic bed he instantly dropped on it with a grateful +sigh. Her lip curled a bit at his obvious weakness. + +"Get used to the sight," he said. "I intend to do as much of my work as +I can, while maintaining a horizontal position. You will be my strong +right arm. And right now, Right Arm, I wish you could scare me up +something to eat. I also intend to do most of my eating in the +previously mentioned prone condition." + +Snorting with disgust, Meta stamped out. While she was gone, Jason +chewed the end of a stylus thoughtfully, then made some careful notes. + +After they had finished the almost-tasteless meal he began the search. + +"Meta, where can I find historical records of Pyrrus?" + +"I've never heard of any ... I really don't know." + +"But there has to be something--_somewhere_," he insisted. "Even if your +present-day culture devotes all of its time and energies to survival, +you can be sure it wasn't always that way. All the time it was +developing, people were keeping records, making notes. Now where do we +look? Do you have a library here?" + +"Of course," she said. "We have an excellent technical library. But I'm +sure there wouldn't be any of _that_ sort of thing there." + +Trying not to groan, Jason stood up. "Let me be the judge of that. Just +lead the way." + + * * * * * + +Operation of the library was completely automatic. A projected index +gave the call number for any text that had to be consulted. The tape +was delivered to the charge desk thirty seconds after the number had +been punched. Returned tapes were dropped through a hopper and refiled +automatically. The mechanism worked smoothly. + +"Wonderful," Jason said, pushing away from the index. "A tribute to +technological ingenuity. Only it contains nothing of any value to us. +Just reams of textbooks." + +"What _else_ should be in a library?" Meta sounded sincerely puzzled. + +Jason started to explain, then changed his mind. "Later we will go into +that," he said. "Much later. Now we have to find a lead. Is it possible +that there are any tapes--or even printed books--that aren't filed +through this machine?" + +"It seems unlikely, but we could ask Poli. He lives here somewhere and +is in charge of the library--filing new books and tending the +machinery." + +The single door into the rear of the building was locked, and no amount +of pounding could rouse the caretaker. + +"If he's alive, this should do it," Jason said. He pressed the +out-of-order button on the control panel. It had the desired affect. +Within five minutes the door opened and Poli dragged himself through it. + +Death usually came swiftly on Pyrrus. If wounds slowed a man down, the +ever-ready forces of destruction quickly finished the job. Poli was the +exception to this rule. Whatever had attacked him originally had done an +efficient job. Most of the lower part of his face was gone. His left arm +was curled and useless. The damage to his body and legs had left him +with the bare capability to stumble from one spot to the next. + +Yet he still had one good arm as well as his eyesight. He could work in +the library and relieve a fully fit man. How long he had been dragging +the useless husk of a body around the building, no one knew. In spite of +the pain that filled his red-rimmed, moist eyes, he had stayed alive. +Growing old, older than any other Pyrran as far as Jason had seen. He +tottered forward and turned off the alarm that had called him. + +When Jason started to explain the old man took no notice. Only after the +librarian had rummaged a hearing aid out of his clothes, did Jason +realize he was deaf as well. Jason explained again what he searched for. +Poli nodded and printed his answer on a tablet. + +_there are many old books--in the storerooms below_ + +Most of the building was taken up by the robot filing and sorting +apparatus. They moved slowly through the banks of machinery, following +the crippled librarian to a barred door in the rear. He pointed to it. +While Jason and Meta fought to open the age-incrusted bars, he wrote +another note on his tablet. + +_not opened for many years, rats_ + +Jason's and Meta's guns appeared reflexively in their hands as they read +the message. Jason finished opening the door by himself. The two native +Pyrrans stood facing the opening gap. It was well they did. Jason could +never have handled what came through that door. + +He didn't even open it for himself. Their sounds at the door must have +attracted all the vermin in the lower part of the building. Jason had +thrown the last bolt and started to pull on the handle--when the door +was _pushed_ open from the other side. + + * * * * * + +Open the gateway to hell and see what comes out. Meta and Poli stood +shoulder to shoulder firing into the mass of loathsomeness that boiled +through the door. Jason jumped to one side and picked off the occasional +animal that came his way. The destruction seemed to go on forever. + +Long minutes passed before the last clawed beast made its death rush. +Meta and Poli waited expectantly for more, they were happily excited by +this chance to deal destruction. Jason felt a little sick after the +silent ferocious attack. A ferocity that the Pyrrans reflected. He saw a +scratch on Meta's face where one of the beasts had caught her. She +seemed oblivious to it. + +Pulling out his medikit, Jason circled the piled bodies. Something +stirred in their midst and a crashing shot ploughed into it. Then he +reached the girl and pushed the analyzer probes against the scratch. The +machine clicked and Meta jumped as the antitoxin needle stabbed down. +She realized for the first time what Jason was doing. + +"Thank you," she said. + +Poli had a powerful battery lamp and, by unspoken agreement, Jason +carried it. Crippled though he was, the old man was still a Pyrran when +it came to handling a gun. They slowly made their way down the +refuse-laden stairs. + +"What a stench," Jason grimaced. + +At the foot of the stairs they looked around. There _had_ been books and +records there at one time. They had been systematically chewed, eaten +and destroyed for decades. + +"I like the care you take with your old books," Jason said disgustedly. + +"They could have been of no importance," Meta said coolly, "or they +would be filed correctly in the library upstairs." + +Jason wandered gloomily through the rooms. Nothing remained of any +value. Fragments and scraps of writing and printing. Never enough in one +spot to bother collecting. With the toe of one armored boot, he kicked +angrily at a pile of debris, ready to give up the search. There was a +glint of rusty metal under the dirt. + +"Hold this!" He gave the light to Meta and began scratching aside the +rubble. A flat metal box with a dial lock built into it, was revealed. + +"Why that's a log box!" Meta said, surprised. + +"That's what I thought," Jason said. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI. + + +Resealing the cellar, they carried the box back to Jason's new office. +Only after spraying with decontaminant, did they examine it closely. +Meta picked out engraved letters on the lid. + +"S. T. POLLUX VICTORY--that must be the name of the spacer this log came +from. But I don't recognize the class, or whatever it is the initials +_S. T._ stand for." + +"Stellar Transport," Jason told her, as he tried the lock mechanism. +"I've heard of them but I've never seen one. They were built during the +last wave of galactic expansion. Really nothing more than gigantic metal +containers, put together in space. After they were loaded with people, +machinery and supplies, they would be towed to whatever planetary system +had been chosen. These same tugs and one-shot rockets would brake the +S. T.'s in for a landing. Then leave them there. The hull was a ready +source of metal and the colonists could start right in building their +new world. And they were _big_. All of them held at least fifty thousand +people ..." + +Only after he said it, did he realize the significance of his words. +Meta's deadly stare drove it home. There were now less people on Pyrrus +than had been in the original settlement. + +And human population, without rigid birth controls, usually increased +geometrically. Jason dinAlt suddenly remembered Meta's itchy trigger +finger. + +"But we can't be sure how many people were aboard this one," he said +hurriedly. "Or even if this is the log of the ship that settled Pyrrus. +Can you find something to pry this open with? The lock is corroded into +a single lump." + +Meta took her anger out on the box. Her fingers managed to force a gap +between lid and bottom. She wrenched at it. Rusty metal screeched and +tore. The lid came off in her hands and a heavy book thudded to the +table. + +The cover legend destroyed all doubt. + + LOG OF S. T. POLLUX VICTORY. OUTWARD BOUND--SETANI TO PYRRUS. 55,000 + SETTLERS ABOARD. + +Meta couldn't argue now. She stood behind Jason with tight-clenched +fists and read over his shoulder as he turned the brittle, yellowed +pages. He quickly skipped through the opening part that covered the +sailing preparations and trip out. Only when he had reached the actual +landing did he start reading slowly. The impact of the ancient words +leaped out at him. + +"Here it is," Jason shouted. "Proof positive that we're on the right +trail. Even _you_ will have to admit that. Read it, right here." + + _... Second day since the tugs left, we are completely on our own + now. The settlers still haven't grown used to this planet, though we + have orientation talks every night. As well as the morale agents who + I have working twenty hours a day. I suppose I really can't blame + the people, they all lived in the underways of Setani and I doubt if + they saw the sun once a year. This planet has weather with a + vengeance, worse than anything I've seen on a hundred other planets. + Was I wrong during the original planning stages not to insist on + settlers from one of the agrarian worlds? People who could handle + the outdoors._ + + _These citified Setanians are afraid to go out in the rain. But of + course they have adapted completely to their native 1.5 gravity so + the two gee here doesn't bother them much. That was the factor that + decided us. Anyway--too late now to do anything about it. Or about + the unending cycle of rain, snow, hail, hurricanes and such. Answer + will be to start the mines going, sell the metals and build + completely enclosed cities._ + + _The only thing on this forsaken planet that isn't actually against + us are the animals. A few large predators at first, but the guards + made short work of them. The rest of the wild life leaves us alone. + Glad of that! They have been fighting for existence so long that I + have never seen a more deadly looking collection. Even the little + rodents no bigger than a man's hand are armored like tanks ..._ + +"I don't believe a word of it," Meta broke in. "That can't be Pyrrus +he's writing about ..." Her words died away as Jason wordlessly pointed +to the title on the cover. + +He continued scanning the pages, flipping them quickly. A sentence +caught his eye and he stopped. Jamming his finger against the place, he +read aloud. + +"'... And troubles keep piling up. First Har Palo with his theory that +the vulcanism is so close to the surface that the ground keeps warm and +the crops grow so well. Even if he is right--what can we do? We must be +self-dependent if we intend to survive. And now this other thing. It +seems that the forest fire drove a lot of new species our way. Animals, +insects and even birds have attacked the people. (Note for Har: check if +possible seasonal migration might explain attacks.) There have been +fourteen deaths from wounds and poisoning. We'll have to enforce the +rules for insect lotion at all times. And I suppose build some kind of +perimeter defense to keep the larger beasts out of the camp.' + +"This is a beginning," Jason said. "At least now we are aware of the +real nature of the battle we're engaged in. It doesn't make Pyrrus any +easier to handle, or make the life forms less dangerous, to know that +they were once better disposed towards mankind. All this does is point +the way. Something took the peaceful life forms, shook them up, and +turned this planet into one big deathtrap for mankind. That _something_ +is what I want to uncover." + + + + +XII. + + +Further reading of the log produced no new evidence. There was a good +deal more information about the early animal and plant life and how +deadly they were, as well as the first defenses against them. +Interesting historically, but of no use whatsoever in countering the +menace. The captain apparently never thought that life forms were +altering on Pyrrus, believing instead that dangerous beasts were being +discovered. He never lived to change his mind. The last entry in the +log, less than two months after the first attack, was very brief. And +in a different handwriting. + + _Captain Kurkowski died today, of poisoning following an insect + bite. His death is greatly mourned._ + +The "why" of the planetary revulsion had yet to be uncovered. + +"Kerk must see this book," Jason said. "He should have some idea of the +progress being made. Can we get transportation--or do we walk to city +hall?" + +"Walk, of course," Meta said. + +"Then you bring the book. At two G's I find it very hard to be a +gentleman and carry the packages." + +They had just entered Kerk's outer office when a shrill screaming burst +out of the phone-screen. It took Jason a moment to realize that it was a +mechanical signal, not a human voice. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +Kerk burst through the door and headed for the street entrance. Everyone +else in the office was going the same way. Meta looked confused, leaning +towards the door, then looking back at Jason. + +"What does it mean? Can't you tell me?" He shook her arm. + +"Sector alarm. A major breakthrough of some kind at the perimeter. +Everyone but other perimeter guards has to answer." + +"Well, go then," he said. "Don't worry about me. I'll be all right." + +His words acted like a trigger release. Meta's gun was in her hand and +she was gone before he had finished speaking. Jason sat down wearily in +the deserted office. + +The unnatural silence in the building began to get on his nerves. He +shifted his chair over to the phone-screen and switched it on to +_receive_. The screen exploded with color and sound. At first Jason +could make no sense of it at all. Just a confused jumble of faces and +voices. It was a multi-channel set designed for military use. A number +of images were carried on the screen at one time, rows of heads or hazy +backgrounds where the user had left the field of view. Many of the heads +were talking at the same time and the babble of their voices made no +sense whatsoever. + +After examining the controls and making a few experiments, Jason began +to understand the operation. Though all stations were on the screen at +all times, their audio channels could be controlled. In that way two, +three or more stations could be hooked together in a link-up. They would +be in round-robin communication with each other, yet never out of +contact with the other stations. + +Identification between voice and sound was automatic. Whenever one of +the pictured images spoke, the image would glow red. By trial and error +Jason brought in the audio for the stations he wanted and tried to +follow the course of the attack. + +Very quickly he realized this was something out of the ordinary. In some +way, no one made it clear, a section of the perimeter had been broken +through and emergency defenses had to be thrown up to encapsulate it. +Kerk seemed to be in charge, at least he was the only one with an +override transmitter. He used it for general commands. The many, tiny +images faded and his face appeared on top of them, filling the entire +screen. + +"All perimeter stations send twenty-five per cent of your complement to +Area Twelve." + +The small images reappeared and the babble increased, red lights +flickering from face to face. + +"... Abandon the first floor, acid bombs can't reach." + +"If we hold we'll be cut off, but salient is past us on the west flank. +Request support." + +"DON'T MERVV ... IT'S USELESS!" + +"... And the napalm tanks are almost gone. Orders?" + +"The truck is still there, get it to the supply warehouse, you'll find +replacements ..." + + * * * * * + +Out of the welter of talk, only the last two fragments made any sense. +Jason had noticed the signs below when he came in. The first two floors +of the building below him were jammed with military supplies. This was +his chance to get into the act. + +Just sitting and watching was frustrating. Particularly when it was a +desperate emergency. He didn't overvalue his worth, but he was sure +there was always room for another gun. + +By the time he had dragged himself down to the street level a +turbo-truck had slammed to a stop in front of the loading platform. Two +Pyrrans were rolling out drums of napalm with reckless disregard for +their own safety. Jason didn't dare enter that maelstrom of rolling +metal. He found he could be of use tugging the heavy drums into position +on the truck while the others rolled them up. They accepted his aid +without acknowledgment. + +It was exhausting, sweaty work, hauling the leaden drums into place +against the heavy gravity. After a minute Jason worked by touch through +a red haze of hammering blood. He realized the job was done only when +the truck suddenly leaped forward and he was thrown to the floor. He lay +there, his chest heaving. As the driver hurled the heavy vehicle along, +all Jason could do was bounce around in the bottom. He could see well +enough, but was still gasping for breath when they braked at the +fighting zone. + +To Jason, it was a scene of incredible confusion. Guns firing, flames, +men and women running on all sides. The napalm drums were unloaded +without his help and the truck vanished for more. Jason leaned against a +wall of a half-destroyed building and tried to get his bearings. It was +impossible. There seemed to be a great number of small animals: he +killed two that attacked him. Other than that he couldn't determine the +nature of the battle. + +A Pyrran, tan face white with pain and exertion, stumbled up. His right +arm, wet with raw flesh and dripping blood, hung limply at his side. It +was covered with freshly applied surgical foam. He held his gun in his +left hand, a stump of control cable dangling from it. Jason thought the +man was looking for medical aid. He couldn't have been more wrong. + +Clenching the gun in his teeth, the Pyrran clutched a barrel of napalm +with his good hand and hurled it over on its side. Then, with the gun +once more in his hand, he began to roll the drum along the ground with +his feet. It was slow, cumbersome work, but he was still in the fight. + +Jason pushed through the hurrying crowd and bent over the drum. "Let me +do it," he said. "You can cover us both with your gun." + +The man wiped the sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm and +blinked at Jason. He seemed to recognize him. When he smiled it was a +grimace of pain, empty of humor. "Do that. I can still shoot. Two half +men--maybe we equal one whole." Jason was laboring too hard to even +notice the insult. + + * * * * * + +An explosion had blasted a raw pit in the street ahead. Two people were +at the bottom, digging it even deeper with shovels. The whole thing +seemed meaningless. Just as Jason and the wounded man rolled up the drum +the diggers leaped out of the excavation and began shooting down into +its depths. One of them turned, a young girl, barely in her teens. + +"Praise Perimeter!" she breathed. "They found the napalm. One of the new +horrors is breaking through towards Thirteen, we just found it." Even as +she talked she swiveled the drum around, kicked the easy-off plug, and +began dumping the gelid contents into the hole. When half of it had +gurgled down, she kicked the drum itself in. Her companion pulled a +flare from his belt, lit it, and threw it after the drum. + +[Illustration] + +"Back quick. They don't like heat," he said. + +This was putting it very mildly. The napalm caught, tongues of flame and +roiling, greasy smoke climbed up to the sky. Under Jason's feet the +earth shifted and moved. _Something_ black and long stirred in the heart +of the flame, then arched up into the sky over their heads. In the midst +of the searing heat it still moved with alien, jolting motions. It was +immense, at least two meters thick and with no indication of its length. +The flames didn't stop it at all, just annoyed it. + +Jason had some idea of the thing's length as the street cracked and +buckled for fifty meters on each side of the pit. Great loops of the +creature began to emerge from the ground. He fired his gun, as did the +others. Not that it seemed to have any effect. More and more people were +appearing, armed with a variety of weapons. Flame-throwers and grenades +seemed to be the most effective. + +"_Clear the area ... we're going to saturate it. Fall back._" + +The voice was so loud it jarred Jason's ear. He turned and recognized +Kerk, who had arrived with truckloads of equipment. He had a power +speaker on his back, the mike hung in front of his lips. His amplified +voice brought an instant reaction from the crowd. They began to move. + +There was still doubt in Jason's mind what to do. Clear the area? But +what area? He started towards Kerk, before he realized that the rest of +the Pyrrans were going in the opposite direction. Even under two +gravities they _moved_. + +Jason had a naked feeling of being alone on the stage. He was in the +center of the street, and the others had vanished. No one remained. +Except the wounded man Jason had helped. He stumbled towards Jason, +waving his good arm. Jason couldn't understand what he said. Kerk was +shouting orders again from one of the trucks. They had started to move +too. The urgency struck home and Jason started to run. + +It was too late. On all sides the earth was buckling, cracking, as more +loops of the underground thing forced its way into the light. Safety lay +ahead. Only in front of it rose an arch of dirt-encrusted gray. + + * * * * * + +There are seconds of time that seem to last an eternity. A moment of +subjective time that is grabbed and stretched to an infinite distance. +This was one of those moments. Jason stood, frozen. Even the smoke in +the sky hung unmoving. The high-standing loop of alien life was before +him, every detail piercingly clear. + +Thick as a man, ribbed and gray as old bark. Tendrils projected from all +parts of it, pallid and twisting lengths that writhed slowly with +snakelike life. Shaped like a plant, yet with the motions of an animal. +And cracking, splitting. This was the worst. + +Seams and openings appeared. Splintering, gaping mouths that vomited out +a horde of pallid animals. Jason heard their shriekings, shrill yet +remote. He saw the needlelike teeth that lined their jaws. + +The paralysis of the unknown held him there. He should have died. Kerk +was thundering at him through the power speaker, others were firing into +the attacking creature. Jason knew nothing. + +Then he was shot forward, pushed by a rock-hard shoulder. The wounded +man was still there, trying to get Jason clear. Gun clenched in his jaws +he dragged Jason along with his good arm. Towards the creature. The +others stopped firing. They saw his plan and it was a good one. + +A loop of the thing arched into the air, leaving an opening between its +body and the ground. The wounded Pyrran planted his feet and tightened +his muscles. One-handed, with a single thrust, he picked Jason off the +ground and sent him hurtling under the living arch. Moving tendrils +brushed fire along his face, then he was through, rolling over and over +on the ground. The wounded Pyrran leaped after him. + +It was too late. There had been a chance for one person to get out. The +Pyrran could have done it easily--instead he had pushed Jason first. The +thing was aware of movement when Jason brushed its tendrils. It dropped +and caught the wounded man under its weight. He vanished from sight as +the tendrils wrapped around him and the animals swarmed over. His +trigger must have pulled back to full automatic because the gun kept +firing a long time after he should have been dead. + +Jason crawled. Some of the fanged animals ran towards him, but were +shot. He knew nothing about this. Then rude hands grabbed him up and +pulled him forward. He slammed into the side of a truck and Kerk's face +was in front of his, flushed and angry. One of the giant fists closed on +the front of Jason's clothes and he was lifted off his feet, shaken like +a limp bag of rags. He offered no protest and could not have even if +Kerk had killed him. + +When he was thrown to the ground, someone picked him up and slid him +into the back of the truck. He did not lose consciousness as the truck +bounced away, yet he could not move. In a moment the fatigue would go +away and he would sit up. That was all he was, just a little tired. Even +as he thought this he passed out. + + + + +XIII. + + +"Just like old times," Jason said when Brucco came into the room with a +tray of food. Without a word Brucco served Jason and the wounded men in +the other beds, then left. "Thanks," Jason called after his retreating +back. + +A joke, a twist of a grin, like it always was. Sure. But even as he +grinned and his lips shaped a joke, Jason felt them like a veneer on +the outside. Something plastered on with a life of its own. Inside he +was numb and immovable. His body was stiff as his eyes still watched +that arch of alien flesh descend and smother the one-armed Pyrran with +its million burning fingers. + +He could feel himself under the arch. After all, hadn't the wounded man +taken his place? He finished the meal without realizing that he ate. + +Ever since that morning, when he had recovered consciousness, it had +been like this. He knew that he should have died out there in that +battle-torn street. _His_ life should have been snuffed out, for making +the mistake of thinking that he could actually help the battling +Pyrrans. Instead of being underfoot and in the way. If it hadn't been +for Jason, the man with the wounded arm would have been brought here to +the safety of the reorientation buildings. He knew he was lying in the +bed that belonged to that man. + +The man who had given his life for Jason's. + +The man whose name he didn't even know. + +There were drugs in the food and they made him sleep. The medicated pads +soaked the pain and rawness out of the burns where the tentacles had +seared his face. When he awoke the second time, his touch with reality +had been restored. + +A man had died so he could live. Jason faced the fact. He couldn't +restore that life, no matter how much he wanted to. What he could do was +make the man's death worth while. If it can be said that any death was +worth while ... He forced his thoughts from that track. + +Jason knew what he had to do. His work was even more important now. If +he could solve the riddle of this deadly world, he could repay in part +the debt he owed. + +Sitting up made his head spin and he held to the edge of the bed until +it slowed down. The others in the room ignored him as he slowly and +painfully dragged on his clothes. Brucco came in, saw what he was doing, +and left again without a word. + +Dressing took a long time, but it was finally done. When Jason finally +left the room he found Kerk waiting for him. + +"Kerk ... I want to tell you ..." + +"Tell me _nothing_!" The thunder of Kerk's voice bounced back from the +ceiling and walls. "I'm telling _you_. I'll tell you once and that will +be the end of it. You're not wanted on Pyrrus, Jason dinAlt, neither you +nor your precious off-world schemes are wanted here. I let you convince +me once with your twisted tongue. Helped you at the expense of more +important work. I should have known what the result of your 'logic' +would be. Now I've seen. Welf died so you could live. He was twice the +man you will ever be." + +"Welf? Was that his name?" Jason asked stumblingly. "I didn't know--" + +"You didn't even know." Kerk's lips pulled back from his teeth in a +grimace of disgust. "You didn't even know his name--yet he died that +you might continue your miserable existence." Kerk spat, as if the words +gave a vile flavor to his speech, and stamped towards the exit lock. +Almost as an afterthought he turned back to Jason. + +"You'll stay here in the sealed buildings until the ship returns in two +weeks. Then you will leave this planet and never come back. If you do, +I'll kill you instantly. With pleasure." He started through the lock. + +"Wait," Jason shouted. "You can't decide like that. You haven't even +seen the evidence I've uncovered. Ask Meta--" The lock thumped shut and +Kerk was gone. + + * * * * * + +The whole thing was just too stupid. Anger began to replace the futile +despair of a moment before. He was being treated like an irresponsible +child, the importance of his discovery of the log completely ignored. + +Jason turned and saw for the first time that Brucco was standing there. +"Did you hear that?" Jason asked him. + +"Yes. And I quite agree. You can consider yourself lucky." + +"Lucky!" Jason was the angry one now. "Lucky to be treated like a +moronic child, with contempt for everything I do--" + +"I said lucky," Brucco snapped. "Welf was Kerk's only surviving son. +Kerk had high hopes for him, was training him to take his place +eventually." He turned to leave but Jason called after him. + +"Wait. I'm sorry about Welf. I can't be any sorrier knowing that he was +Kerk's son. But at least it explains why Kerk is so quick to throw me +out--as well as the evidence I have uncovered. The log of the ship--" + +"I know, I've seen it," Brucco said. "Meta brought it in. Very +interesting historical document." + +"That's all you can see it as--an historical document? The significance +of the planetary change escapes you?" + +"It doesn't escape me," Brucco answered briefly, "but I cannot see that +it has any relevancy today. The past is unchangeable and we must fight +in the present. That is enough to occupy all our energies." + +Jason felt too exhausted to argue the point any more. He ran into the +same stone wall with all the Pyrrans. Theirs was a logic of the moment. +The past and the future unchangeable, unknowable--and uninteresting. +"How is the perimeter battle going?" he asked, wanting to change the +subject. + +"Finished. Or in the last stages at least," Brucco was almost +enthusiastic as he showed Jason some stereos of the attackers. He did +not notice Jason's repressed shudder. + +"This was one of the most serious breakthroughs in years, but we caught +it in time. I hate to think what would have happened if they hadn't been +detected for a few weeks more." + +"What are those things?" Jason asked. "Giant snakes of some kind?" + +"Don't be absurd," Brucco snorted. He tapped the stereo with his +thumbnail. "Roots. That's all. Greatly modified, but still roots. They +came in under the perimeter barrier, much deeper than anything we've had +before. Not a real threat in themselves as they have very little +mobility. Die soon after being cut. The danger came from their being +used as access tunnels. They're bored through and through with animal +runs, and two or three species of beasts live in a sort of symbiosis +inside. + +"Now we know what they are we can watch for them. The danger was they +could have completely undermined the perimeter and come in from all +sides at once. Not much we could have done then." + +[Illustration] + +The edge of destruction. Living on the lip of a volcano. The Pyrrans +took satisfaction from any day that passed without total annihilation. +There seemed no way to change their attitude. Jason let the conversation +die there. He picked up the log of the _Pollux Victory_ from Brucco's +quarters and carried it back to his room. The wounded Pyrrans there +ignored him as he dropped onto the bed and opened the book to the first +page. + +For two days he did not leave his quarters. The wounded men were soon +gone and he had the room to himself. Page by page he went through the +log, until he knew every detail of the settlement of Pyrrus. His notes +and cross-references piled up. He made an accurate map of the original +settlement, superimposed over a modern one. They didn't match at all. + +It was a dead end. With one map held over the other, what he had +suspected was painfully clear. The descriptions of terrain and physical +features in the log were accurate enough. The city had obviously been +moved since the first landing. Whatever records had been kept would be +in the library--and he had exhausted that source. Anything else would +have been left behind and long since destroyed. + +Rain lashed against the thick window above his head, lit suddenly by a +flare of lightning. The unseen volcanoes were active again, vibrating +the floor with their rumblings deep in the earth. + +The shadow of defeat pressed heavily down on Jason. Rounding his +shoulders and darkening, even more, the overcast day. + + + + +XIV. + + +Jason spent one depressed day lying on his bunk counting rivets, forcing +himself to accept defeat. Kerk's order that he was not to leave the +sealed building tied his hands completely. He felt himself close to the +answer--but he was never going to get it. + +One day of defeat was all he could take. Kerk's attitude was completely +emotional, untempered by the slightest touch of logic. This fact kept +driving home until Jason could no longer ignore it. Emotional reasoning +was something he had learned to mistrust early in life. He couldn't +agree with Kerk in the slightest--which meant he had to utilize the ten +remaining days to solve the problem. If it meant disobeying Kerk, it +would still have to be done. + +He grabbed up his noteplate with a new enthusiasm. His first sources of +information had been used up, but there must be others. Chewing the +scriber and needling his brain, he slowly built up a list of other +possibilities. Any idea, no matter how wild, was put down. When the +plate was filled he wiped the long shots and impossibles--such as +consulting off-world historical records. This was a Pyrran problem, and +had to be settled on this planet or not at all. + +The list worked down to two probables. Either old records, notebooks or +diaries that individual Pyrrans might have in their possession, or +verbal histories that had been passed down the generations by word of +mouth. The first choice seemed to be the most probable and he acted on +it at once. After a careful check of his medikit and gun he went to see +Brucco. + +"What's new and deadly in the world since I left?" he asked. + +Brucco glared at him. "You can't go out, Kerk has forbidden it." + +"Did he put you in charge of guarding me to see if I obeyed?" Jason's +voice was quiet and cold. + +Brucco rubbed his jaw and frowned in thought. Finally he just shrugged. +"No, I'm not guarding you--nor do I want the job. As far as I know this +is between you and Kerk and it can stay that way. Leave whenever you +want. And get yourself killed quietly some place so there will be an end +to the trouble you cause once and for all." + +"I love you, too," Jason said. "Now brief me on the wildlife." + +The only new mutation that routine precautions wouldn't take care of was +a slate-colored lizard that spit a fast nerve poison with deadly +accuracy. Death took place in seconds if the saliva touched any bare +skin. The lizards had to be looked out for, and shot before they came +within range. An hour of lizard-blasting in a training chamber made him +proficient in the exact procedure. + + * * * * * + +Jason left the sealed buildings quietly and no one saw him go. He +followed the map to the nearest barracks, shuffling tiredly through the +dusty streets. It was a hot, quiet afternoon, broken only by rumblings +from the distance, and the occasional crack of his gun. + +It was cool inside the thick-walled barracks buildings, and he collapsed +onto a bench until the sweat dried and his heart stopped pounding. Then +he went to the nearest recreation room to start his search. + +Before it began it was finished. None of the Pyrrans kept old artifacts +of any kind and thought the whole idea was very funny. After the +twentieth negative answer Jason was ready to admit defeat in this line +of investigation. There was as much chance of meeting a Pyrran with old +documents as finding a bundle of grandfather's letters in a soldier's +kit bag. + +This left a single possibility--verbal histories. Again Jason questioned +with the same lack of results. The fun had worn off the game for the +Pyrrans and they were beginning to growl. Jason stopped while he was +still in one piece. The commissary served him a meal that tasted like +plastic paste and wood pulp. He ate it quickly, then sat brooding over +the empty tray, hating to admit to another dead end. Who could supply +him with answers? All the people he had talked to were so young. They +had no interest or patience for story-telling. That was an old folks' +hobby--and there were no oldsters on Pyrrus. + +With one exception that he knew of, the librarian, Poli. It was a +possibility. A man who worked with records and books might have an +interest in some of the older ones. He might even remember reading +volumes now destroyed. A very slim lead indeed, but one that had to be +pursued. + +Walking to the library almost killed Jason. The torrential rains made +the footing bad, and in the dim light it was hard to see what was +coming. A snapper came in close enough to take out a chunk of flesh +before he could blast it. The antitoxin made him dizzy and he lost some +blood before he could get the wound dressed. He reached the library, +exhausted and angry. + +Poli was working on the guts of one of the catalogue machines. He didn't +stop until Jason had tapped him on the shoulder. Switching on his +hearing aid, the Pyrran stood quietly, crippled and bent, waiting for +Jason to talk. + +"Have you any old papers or letters that you have kept for your personal +use?" + +A shake of the head, _no_. + +"What about stories--you know, about great things that have happened in +the past, that someone might have told you when you were young?" +Negative. + +Results negative. Every question was answered by a shake of Poli's head, +and very soon the old man grew irritated and pointed to the work he +hadn't finished. + +"Yes, I know you have work to do," Jason said. "But this is important." +Poli shook his head an angry _no_ and reached to turn off his hearing +aid. Jason groped for a question that might get a more positive answer. +There was something tugging at his mind, a word he had heard and made a +note of, to be investigated later. Something that Kerk had said ... + +"That's it!" It was right there--on the tip of his tongue. "Just a +second, Poli, just one more question. What is a 'grubber'? Have you ever +seen one or know what they do, or where they can be found--" + +The words were cut off as Poli whirled and lashed the back of his good +arm into Jason's face. Though the man was aged and crippled, the blow +almost fractured Jason's jaw, sending him sliding across the floor. +Through a daze he saw Poli hobbling towards him, making thick bubbling +noises in his ruined throat; what remained of his face twisted and +working with anger. + +This was no time for diplomacy. Moving as fast as he could, with the +high-G, foot-slapping shuffle, Jason headed for the sealed door. He was +no match for any Pyrran in hand-to-hand combat, young and small or old +and crippled. The door thunked open, as he went through, and barely +closed in Poli's face. + +Outside the rain had turned to snow and Jason trudged wearily through +the slush, rubbing his sore jaw and turning over the only fact he had. +_Grubber_ was a key--but to what? And who did he dare ask for more +information? Kerk was the man he had talked to best, but not any more. +That left only Meta as a possible source. He wanted to see her at once, +but sudden exhaustion swept through him. It took all of his strength to +stumble back to the school buildings. + + * * * * * + +In the morning he ate and left early. There was only a week left. It was +impossible to hurry and he cursed as he dragged his double-weight body +to the assignment center. Meta was on night perimeter duty and should +be back to her quarters soon. He shuffled over there and was lying on +her bunk when she came in. + +"Get out," she said in a flat voice. "Or do I throw you out?" + +"Patience, please," he said as he sat up. "Just resting here until you +came back. I have a single question, and if you will answer it for me +I'll go and stop bothering you." + +"What is it?" she asked, tapping her foot with impatience. But there was +also a touch of curiosity in her voice. Jason thought carefully before +he spoke. + +"Now _please_, don't shoot me. You know I'm an off-worlder with a big +mouth, and you have heard me say some awful things without taking a shot +at me. Now I have another one. Will you please show your superiority to +the other people of the galaxy by holding your temper and not reducing +me to component atoms?" + +His only answer was a tap of the foot, so he took a deep breath and +plunged in. + +"What is a 'grubber'?" + +For a long moment she was quiet, unmoving. Then she curled her lips back +in disgust. "You find the most repulsive topics." + +"That may be so," he said, "but it still doesn't answer my question." + +"It's ... well, the sort of thing people just don't talk about." + +"I do," he assured her. + +"Well, I _don't_! It's the most disgusting thing in the world, and +that's all I'm going to say. Talk to Krannon, but not to me." She had +him by the arm while she talked and he was half dragged to the hall. The +door slammed behind him and he muttered "_lady wrestler_" under his +breath. His anger ebbed away as he realized that she had given him a +clue in spite of herself. Next step, find out who or what Krannon was. + +Assignment center listed a man named Krannon, and gave his shift number +and work location. It was close by and Jason walked there. A large, +cubical, and windowless building, with the single word _food_ next to +each of the sealed entrances. The small entrance he went through was a +series of automatic chambers that cycled him through ultrasonics, +ultraviolet, antibio spray, rotating brushes and three final rinses. He +was finally admitted, damper but much cleaner to the central area. Men +and robots were stacking crates and he asked one of the men for Krannon. +The man looked him up and down coldly and spat on his shoes before +answering. + +Krannon worked in a large storage bay by himself. He was a stocky man in +patched coveralls whose only expression was one of intense gloom. When +Jason came in he stopped hauling bales and sat down on the nearest one. +The lines of unhappiness were cut into his face and seemed to grow +deeper while Jason explained what he was after. All the talk of ancient +history on Pyrrus bored him as well and he yawned openly. When Jason +finished he yawned again and didn't even bother to answer him. + +[Illustration] + +Jason waited a moment, then asked again. "I said do you have any old +books, papers, records or that sort of thing?" + +"You sure picked the right guy to bother, off-worlder," was his only +answer. "After talking to me you're going to have nothing but trouble." + +"Why is that?" Jason asked. + +"Why?" For the first time he was animated with something besides grief. +"I'll tell you why! I made one mistake, just one, and I get a life +sentence. For life--how would you like that? Just me alone, being by +myself all the time. Even taking orders from the grubbers." + +Jason controlled himself, keeping the elation out of his voice. +"Grubbers? What are grubbers?" + +The enormity of the question stopped Krannon, it seemed impossible that +there could be a man alive who had never heard of grubbers. Happiness +lifted some of the gloom from his face as he realized that he had a +captive audience who would listen to his troubles. + +"Grubbers are traitors--that's what they are. Traitors to the human race +and they ought to be wiped out. Living in the jungle. The things they do +with the animals--" + +"You mean they're people ... Pyrrans like yourself?" Jason broke in. + +"Not like _me_, mister. Don't make that mistake again if you want to go +on living. Maybe I dozed off on guard once so I got stuck with this job. +That doesn't mean I like it or like them. They stink, really stink, and +if it wasn't for the food we get from them they'd all be dead tomorrow. +That's the kind of killing job I could really put my heart into." + +"If they supply you with food, you must give them something in return?" + +"Trade goods, beads, knives, the usual things. Supply sends them over in +cartons and I take care of the delivery." + +"How?" Jason asked. + +"By armored truck to the delivery site. Then I go back later to pick up +the food they've left in exchange." + +"Can I go with you on the next delivery?" + +Krannon frowned over the idea for a minute. "Yeah, I suppose it's all +right if you're stupid enough to come. You can help me load. They're +between harvests now, so the next trip won't be for eight days--" + +"But that's after the ship leaves--it'll be too late. Can't you go +earlier?" + +"Don't tell me your troubles, mister," Krannon grumbled, climbing to his +feet. "That's when I go and the date's not changing for you." + +Jason realized he had got as much out of the man as was possible for one +session. He started for the door, then turned. + +"One thing," he asked. "Just what do these savages--the grubbers--look +like?" + +"How do I know," Krannon snapped. "I trade with them, I don't make love +to them. If I ever saw one, I'd shoot him down on the spot." He flexed +his fingers and his gun jumped in and out of his hand as he said it. +Jason quietly let himself out. + +Lying on his bunk, resting his gravity-weary body, he searched for a way +to get Krannon to change the delivery date. His millions of credits were +worthless on this world without currency. If the man couldn't be +convinced, he had to be bribed. With what? Jason's eyes touched the +locker where his off-world clothing still hung, and he had an idea. + +It was morning before he could return to the food warehouse--and one day +closer to his deadline. Krannon didn't bother to look up from his work +when Jason came in. + +"Do you want this?" Jason asked, handing the outcast a flat gold case +inset with a single large diamond. Krannon grunted and turned it over in +his hands. + +"A toy," he said. "What is it good for?" + +"Well, when you press this button you get a light." A flame appeared +through a hole in the top. Krannon started to hand it back. + +"What do I need a little fire for? Here, keep it." + +"Wait a second," Jason said, "that's not all it does. When you press the +jewel in the center one of these comes out." A black pellet the size of +his fingernail dropped into his palm. "A grenade, made of solid +ulranite. Just squeeze it hard and throw. Three seconds later it +explodes with enough force to blast open this building." + +This time Krannon almost smiled as he reached for the case. Destructive +and death-dealing weapons are like candy to a Pyrran. While he looked at +it Jason made his offer. + +"The case and bombs are yours if you move the date of your next delivery +up to tomorrow--and let me go with you." + +"Be here at 0500," Krannon said. "We leave early." + + + + +XV. + + +The truck rumbled up to the perimeter gate and stopped. Krannon waved to +the guards through the front window, then closed a metal shield over it. +When the gates swung open the truck--really a giant armored tank--ground +slowly forward. There was a second gate beyond the first, that did not +open until the interior one was closed. Jason looked through the +second-driver's periscope as the outer gate lifted. Automatic +flame-throwers flared through the opening, cutting off only when the +truck reached them. A scorched area ringed the gate, beyond that the +jungle began. Unconsciously Jason shrank back in his seat. + +All the plants and animals he had seen only specimens of, existed here +in profusion. Thorn-ringed branches and vines laced themselves into a +solid mat, through which the wild life swarmed. A fury of sound hurled +at them, thuds and scratchings rang on the armor. Krannon laughed and +closed the switch that electrified the outer grid. The scratchings died +away as the beasts completed the circuit to the grounded hull. + +It was slow-speed, low-gear work tearing through the jungle. Krannon had +his face buried in the periscope mask and silently fought the controls. +With each mile the going seemed to get better, until he finally swung up +the periscope and opened the window armor. The jungle was still thick +and deadly, but nothing like the area immediately around the perimeter. +It appeared as if most of the lethal powers of Pyrrus were concentrated +in the single area around the settlement. Why? Jason asked himself. Why +this intense and planetary hatred? + +The motors died and Krannon stood up, stretching. "We're here," he said. +"Let's unload." + +There was bare rock around the truck, a rounded hillock that projected +from the jungle, too smooth and steep for vegetation to get a hold. +Krannon opened the cargo hatches and they pushed out the boxes and +crates. When they finished Jason slumped down, exhausted, onto the pile. + +"Get back in, we're leaving," Krannon said. + +"You are, I'm staying right here." + +Krannon looked at him coldly. "Get in the truck or I'll kill you. No one +stays out here. For one thing you couldn't live an hour alone. But worse +than that the grubbers would get you. Kill you at once, of course, but +that's not important. But you have equipment that we can't allow into +their hands. You want to see a grubber with a gun?" + +While the Pyrran talked, Jason's thoughts had rushed ahead. He hoped +that Krannon was as thick of head as he was fast of reflex. + +Jason looked at the trees, let his gaze move up through the thick +branches. Though Krannon was still talking, he was automatically aware +of Jason's attention. When Jason's eyes widened and his gun jumped into +his hand, Krannon's own gun appeared and he turned in the same +direction. + +"There--in the top!" Jason shouted, and fired into the tangle of +branches. Krannon fired, too. As soon as he did, Jason hurled himself +backwards, curled into a ball, rolling down the inclined rock. The shots +had covered the sounds of his movements, and before Krannon could turn +back the gravity had dragged him down the rock into the thick foliage. +Crashing branches slapped at him, but slowed his fall. When he stopped +moving he was lost in the tangle. Krannon's shots came too late to hit +him. + +Lying there, tired and bruised, Jason heard the Pyrran cursing him out. +He stamped around on the rock, fired a few shots, but knew better than +to enter the trees. Finally he gave up and went back to the truck. The +motor gunned into life and the treads clanked and scraped down the rock +and back into the jungle. There were muted rumblings and crashes that +slowly died away. + +Then Jason was alone. + + * * * * * + +Up until that instant he hadn't realized quite how alone he would be. +Surrounded by nothing but death, the truck already vanished from sight. +He had to force down an overwhelming desire to run after it. What was +done was done. + +This was a long chance to take, but it was the only way to contact the +grubbers. They were savages, but still they had come from human stock. +And they hadn't sunk so low as to stop the barter with the civilized +Pyrrans. He had to contact them, befriend them. Find out how they had +managed to live safely on this madhouse world. + +If there had been another way to lick the problem, he would have taken +it; he didn't relish the role of martyred hero. But Kerk and his +deadline had forced his hand. The contact had to be made fast and this +was the only way. + +There was no telling where the savages were, or how soon they would +arrive. If the woods weren't too lethal he could hide there, pick his +time to approach them. If they found him among the supplies, they might +skewer him on the spot with a typical Pyrran reflex. + +Walking warily he approached the line of trees. Something moved on +a branch, but vanished as he came near. None of the plants near a +thick-trunked tree looked poisonous, so he slipped behind it. There was +nothing deadly in sight and it surprised him. He let his body relax a +bit, leaning against the rough bark. + +Something soft and choking fell over his head, his body was seized in a +steel grip. The more he struggled the tighter it held him until the +blood thundered in his ears and his lungs screamed for air. + +Only when he grew limp did the pressure let up. His first panic ebbed a +little when he realized that it wasn't an animal that attacked him. He +knew nothing about the grubbers, but they were human so he still had a +chance. + +His arms and legs were tied, the power holster ripped from his arm. He +felt strangely naked without it. The powerful hands grabbed him again +and he was hurled into the air, to fall face down across something warm +and soft. Fear pressed in again, it was a large animal of some kind. And +all Pyrran animals were deadly. + +When the animal moved off, carrying him, panic was replaced by a feeling +of mounting elation. The grubbers had managed to work out a truce of +some kind with at least one form of animal life. He had to find out how. +If he could get that secret--and get it back to the city--it would +justify all his work and pain. It might even justify Welf's death if the +age-old war could be slowed or stopped. + +Jason's tightly bound limbs hurt terribly at first, but grew numb with +the circulation shut off. The jolting ride continued endlessly, he had +no way of measuring the time. A rainfall soaked him, then he felt his +clothes steaming as the sun came out. + +The ride was finally over. He was pulled from the animal's back and +dumped down. His arms dropped free as someone loosed the bindings. The +returning circulation soaked him in pain as he lay there, struggling to +move. When his hands finally obeyed him he lifted them to his face and +stripped away the covering, a sack of thick fur. Light blinded him as he +sucked in breath after breath of clean air. + +Blinking against the glare, he looked around. He was lying on a floor of +crude planking, the setting sun shining into his eyes through the +doorless entrance of the building. There was a ploughed field outside, +stretching down the curve of hill to the edge of the jungle. It was too +dark to see much inside the hut. + +Something blocked the light of the doorway, a tall animallike figure. +On second look Jason realized it was a man with long hair and thick +beard. He was dressed in furs, even his legs were wrapped in fur +leggings. His eyes were fixed on his captive, while one hand fondled an +ax that hung from his waist. + +"Who're you? What y'want?" the bearded man asked suddenly. + +Jason picked his words slowly, wondering if this savage shared the same +hair-trigger temper as the city dwellers. + +"My name is Jason. I come in peace. I want to be your friend ..." + +"Lies!" the man grunted, and pulled the ax from his belt. "Junkman +tricks. I saw y'hide. Wait to kill me. Kill you first." He tested the +edge of the blade with a horny thumb, then raised it. + +"Wait!" Jason said desperately. "You don't understand." + +The ax swung down. + +"I'm from off-world and--" + +A solid thunk shook him as the ax buried itself in the wood next to his +head. At the last instant the man had twitched it aside. He grabbed the +front of Jason's clothes and pulled him up until their faces touched. + +"S'true?" he shouted. "Y'from off-world?" His hand opened and Jason +dropped back before he could answer. The savage jumped over him, towards +the dim rear of the hut. + +"Rhes must know of this," he said as he fumbled with something on the +wall. Light sprang out. + +All Jason could do was stare. The hairy, fur-covered savage was +operating a communicator. The calloused, dirt-encrusted fingers deftly +snapped open the circuits, dialed a number. + + + + +XVI. + + +It made no sense. Jason tried to reconcile the modern machine with the +barbarian and couldn't. Who was he calling? The existence of one +communicator meant there was at least another. Was Rhes a person or a +thing? + +With a mental effort he grabbed hold of his thoughts and braked them to +a stop. There was something new here, factors he hadn't counted on. He +kept reassuring himself there was an explanation for everything, once +you had your facts straight. + +Jason closed his eyes, shutting out the glaring rays of the sun where it +cut through the tree tops, and reconsidered his facts. They separated +evenly into two classes; those he had observed for himself, and those he +had learned from the city dwellers. This last class of "facts" he would +hold, to see if they fitted with what he learned. There was a good +chance that most, or all, of them would prove false. + +"Get up," the voice jarred into his thoughts. "We're leaving." + +His legs were still numb and hardly usable. The bearded man snorted in +disgust and hauled him to his feet, propping him against the outer wall. +Jason clutched the knobby bark of the logs when he was left alone. He +looked around, soaking up impressions. + +It was the first time he had been on a farm since he had run away from +home. A different world with a different ecology, but the similarity was +apparent enough to him. A new-sown field stretched down the hill in +front of the shack. Ploughed by a good farmer. Even, well cast furrows +that followed the contour of the slope. Another, larger log building was +next to this one, probably a barn. + +There was a snuffling sound behind him and Jason turned quickly--and +froze. His hand called for the missing gun and his finger tightened down +on a trigger that wasn't there. + +It had come out of the jungle and padded up quietly behind him. It had +six thick legs with clawed feet that dug into the ground. The two-meter +long body was covered with matted yellow and black fur, all except the +skull and shoulders. These were covered with overlapping horny plates. +Jason could see all this because the beast was that close. + +He waited to die. + +The mouth opened, a froglike division of the hairless skull, revealing +double rows of jagged teeth. + +"Here, Fido," the bearded man said, coming up behind Jason and snapping +his fingers at the same time. The thing bounded forward, brushing past +the dazed Jason, and rubbed his head against the man's leg. "Nice +doggy," the man said, his fingers scratching under the edge of the +carapace where it joined the flesh. + +The bearded man had brought two of the riding animals out of the barn, +saddled and bridled. Jason barely noticed the details of smooth skin and +long legs as he swung up on one. His feet were quickly lashed to the +stirrups. When they started the skull-headed beast followed them. + +"Nice doggy!" Jason said, and for no reason started to laugh. The +bearded man turned and scowled at him until he was quiet. + + * * * * * + +By the time they entered the jungle it was dark. It was impossible to +see under the thick foliage, and they used no lights. The animals seemed +to know the way. There were scraping noises and shrill calls from the +jungle around them, but it didn't bother Jason too much. Perhaps the +automatic manner in which the other man undertook the journey reassured +him. Or the presence of the "dog" that he felt rather than saw. The trip +was a long one, but not too uncomfortable. + +The regular motion of the animal and his fatigue overcame Jason and he +dozed into a fitful sleep, waking with a start each time he slumped +forward. In the end he slept sitting up in the saddle. Hours passed this +way, until he opened his eyes and saw a square of light before them. The +trip was over. + +His legs were stiff and galled with saddle sores. After his feet were +untied getting down was an effort, and he almost fell. A door opened +and Jason went in. It took his eyes some moments to get used to the +light, until he could make out the form of a man on the bed before him. + +[Illustration] + +"Come over here and sit down." The voice was full and strong, accustomed +to command. The body was that of an invalid. A blanket covered him to +the waist, above that the flesh was sickly white, spotted with red +nodules, and hung loosely over the bones. There seemed to be nothing +left of the man except skin and skeleton. + +"Not very nice," the man on the bed said, "but I've grown used to it." +His tone changed abruptly. "Naxa said you were from off-world. Is that +true?" + +Jason nodded yes, and his answer stirred the living skeleton to life. +The head lifted from the pillow and the red-rimmed eyes sought his with +a desperate intensity. + +"My name is Rhes and I'm a ... grubber. Will you help me?" + +Jason wondered at the intensity of Rhes' question, all out of proportion +to the simple content of its meaning. Yet he could see no reason to give +anything other than the first and obvious answer that sprang to his +lips. + +"Of course I'll help you, in whatever way I can. As long as it involves +no injury to anyone else. What do you want?" + +The sick man's head had fallen back limply, exhausted, as Jason talked. +But the fire still burned in the eyes. + +"Feel assured ... I want to injure no others," Rhes said. "Quite the +opposite. As you see I am suffering from a disease that our remedies +will not stop. Within a few more days I will be dead. Now I have +seen ... the city people ... using a device, they press it over a +wound or an animal bite. Do you have one of these machines?" + +"That sounds like a description of the medikit." Jason touched the +button at his waist that dropped the medikit into his hand. "I have mine +here. It analyzes and treats most ..." + +"Would you use it on me?" Rhes broke in, his voice suddenly urgent. + +"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I should have realized." He stepped forward +and pressed the machine over one of the inflamed areas on Rhes' chest. +The operation light came on and the thin shaft of the analyzer probe +slid down. When it withdrew the device hummed, then clicked three times +as three separate hypodermic needles lanced into the skin. Then the +light went out. + +"Is that all?" Rhes asked, as he watched Jason stow the medikit back in +his belt. + +Jason nodded, then looked up and noticed the wet marks of tears on the +sick man's face. Rhes became aware at the same time and brushed at them +angrily. + +"When a man is sick," he growled, "the body and all its senses become +traitor. I don't think I have cried since I was a child--but you must +realize it's not myself I'm crying for. It's the untold thousands of my +people who have died for lack of that little device you treat so +casually." + +"Surely you have medicines, doctors of your own?" + +"Herb doctors and witch doctors," Rhes said, consigning them all to +oblivion with a chop of his hand. "The few hard-working and honest men +are hampered by the fact that the faith healers can usually cure better +than their strongest potion." + +The talking had tired Rhes. He stopped suddenly and closed his eyes. On +his chest, the inflamed areas were already losing their angry color as +the injections took affect. Jason glanced around the room, looking for +clues to the mystery of these people. + + * * * * * + +Floor and walls were made of wood lengths fitted together, free of paint +or decoration. They looked simple and crude, fit only for the savages +he had expected to meet. Or were they crude? The wood had a sweeping, +flamelike grain. When he bent close he saw that wax had been rubbed over +the wood to bring out this pattern. Was this the act of savages--or of +artistic men seeking to make the most of simple materials? The final +effect was far superior to the drab paint and riveted steel rooms of the +city-dwelling Pyrrans. Wasn't it true that both ends of the artistic +scale were dominated by simplicity? The untutored aborigine made a +simple expression of a clear idea, and created beauty. At the other +extreme, the sophisticated critic rejected over-elaboration and +decoration and sought the truthful clarity of uncluttered art. At which +end of the scale was he looking now? + +These men were savages, he had been told that. They dressed in furs and +spoke a slurred and broken language, at least Naxa did. Rhes admitted he +preferred faith healers to doctors. But, if all this were true, where +did the communicator fit into the picture? Or the glowing ceiling that +illuminated the room with a soft light? + +Rhes opened his eyes and stared at Jason, as if seeing him for the first +time. "Who are you?" he asked. "And what are you doing here?" + +There was a cold menace in his words and Jason understood why. The city +Pyrrans hated the "grubbers" and, without a doubt, the feeling was +mutual. Naxa's ax had proved that. Naxa had entered silently while they +talked, and stood with his fingers touching the haft of this same ax. +Jason knew his life was still in jeopardy, until he gave an answer that +satisfied these men. + +He couldn't tell the truth. If they once suspected he was spying among +them to aid the city people, it would be the end. Nevertheless, he had +to be free to talk about the survival problem. + +The answer hit him as soon as he had stated the problem. All this had +only taken an instant to consider, as he turned back to face the +invalid, and he answered at once. Trying to keep his voice normal and +unconcerned. + +"I'm Jason dinAlt, an ecologist, so you see I have the best reasons in +the universe for visiting this planet--" + +"What is an ecologist?" Rhes broke in. There was nothing in his voice to +indicate whether he meant the question seriously, or as a trap. All +traces of the ease of their earlier conversation were gone, his voice +had the deadliness of a stingwing's poison. Jason chose his words +carefully. + +"Simply stated, it is that branch of biology that considers the +relations between organisms and their environment. How climatic and +other factors affect the life forms, and how the life forms in turn +affect each other and the environment." That much Jason knew was +true--but he really knew very little more about the subject so he moved +on quickly. + +"I heard reports of this planet, and finally came here to study it +firsthand. I did what work I could in the shelter of the city, but it +wasn't enough. The people there think I'm crazy, but they finally agreed +to let me make a trip out here." + +"What arrangements have been made for your return?" Naxa snapped. + +"None," Jason told him. "They seemed quite sure that I would be killed +instantly and had no hope of me coming back. In fact, they refused to +let me go and I had to break away." + +This answer seemed to satisfy Rhes and his face cracked into a mirthless +smile. "They would think that, those junkmen. Can't move a meter outside +their own walls without an armor-plated machine as big as a barn. What +did they tell you about us?" + +Again Jason knew a lot depended on his answer. This time he thought +carefully before speaking. + +"Well ... perhaps I'll get that ax in the back of my neck for saying +this ... but I have to be honest. You must know what they think. They +told me you were filthy and ignorant savages who smelled. And you ... +well, had curious customs you practiced with the animals. In exchange +for food, they traded you beads and knives ..." + +Both Pyrrans broke into a convulsion of laughter at this. Rhes stopped +soon, from weakness, but Naxa laughed himself into a coughing fit and +had to splash water over his head from a gourd jug. + +"That I believe well enough," Rhes said, "it sounds like the stupidity +they would talk. Those people know nothing of the world they live in. I +hope the rest of what you said is true, but even if it is not, you are +welcome here. You are from off-world, that I know. No junkman would have +lifted a finger to save my life. You are the first off-worlder my people +have ever known and for that you are doubly welcome. We will help you in +any way we can. My arm is your arm." + +These last words had a ritual sound to them, and when Jason repeated +them, Naxa nodded at the correctness of this. At the same time, Jason +felt that they were more than empty ritual. Interdependence meant +survival on Pyrrus, and he knew that these people stood together to the +death against the mortal dangers around them. He hoped the ritual would +include him in that protective sphere. + +"That is enough for tonight," Rhes said. "The spotted sickness had +weakened me, and your medicine has turned me to jelly. You will stay +here, Jason. There is a blanket, but no bed at least for now." + +Enthusiasm had carried Jason this far, making him forget the two-gee +exertions of the long day. Now fatigue hit him a physical blow. He had +dim memories of refusing food and rolling in the blanket on the floor. +After that, oblivion. + + + + +XVII. + + +Every square inch of his body ached where the doubled gravity had +pressed his flesh to the unyielding wood of the floor. His eyes were +gummy and his mouth was filled with an indescribable taste that came off +in chunks. Sitting up was an effort and he had to stifle a groan as his +joints cracked. + +"Good day, Jason," Rhes called from the bed. "If I didn't believe in +medicine so strongly, I would be tempted to say there is a miracle in +your machine that has cured me overnight." + +There was no doubt that he was on the mend. The inflamed patches had +vanished and the burning light was gone from his eyes. He sat, propped +up on the bed, watching the morning sun melt the night's hailstorm into +the fields. + +"There's meat in the cabinet there," he said, "and either water or visk +to drink." + +The visk proved to be a distilled beverage of extraordinary potency that +instantly cleared the fog from Jason's brain, though it did leave a +slight ringing in his ears. And the meat was a tenderly smoked joint, +the best food he had tasted since leaving Darkhan. Taken together they +restored his faith in life and the future. He lowered his glass with a +relaxed sigh and looked around. + +With the pressures of immediate survival and exhaustion removed, his +thoughts returned automatically to his problem. What were these people +really like--and how had they managed to survive in the deadly +wilderness? In the city he had been told they were savages. Yet there +was a carefully tended and repaired communicator on the wall. And by the +door a crossbow--that fired machined metal bolts, he could see the tool +marks still visible on their shanks. The one thing he needed was more +information. He could start by getting rid of some of his +misinformation. + +"Rhes, you laughed when I told you what the city people said, about +trading you trinkets for food. What do they really trade you?" + +"Anything within certain limits," Rhes said. "Small manufactured items, +such as electronic components for our communicators. Rustless alloys we +can't make in our forges, cutting tools, atomic electric converters that +produce power from any radioactive element. Things like that. Within +reason they'll trade anything we ask that isn't on the forbidden list. +They need the food badly." + +"And the items on the forbidden list--?" + +"Weapons, of course, or anything that might be made into a powerful +weapon. They know we make gunpowder so we can't get anything like large +castings or seamless tubing we could make into heavy gun barrels. We +drill our own rifle barrels by hand, though the crossbow is quiet and +faster in the jungle. Then they don't like us to know very much, so the +only reading matter that gets to us are tech maintenance manuals, empty +of basic theory. + +"The last banned category you know about--medicine. This is the one +thing I cannot understand, that makes me burn with hatred with every +death they might have prevented." + +"I know their reasons," Jason said. + +"Then tell me, because I can think of none." + +"Survival--it's just that simple. I doubt if you realize it, but they +have a decreasing population. It is just a matter of years before they +will be gone. Whereas your people at least must have a stable--if not +slightly growing population--to have existed without their mechanical +protections. So in the city they hate you and are jealous of you at the +same time. If they gave you medicine and you prospered, you would be +winning the battle they have lost. I imagine they tolerate you as a +necessary evil, to supply them with food, otherwise they wish you were +all dead." + +"It makes sense," Rhes growled, slamming his fist against the bed. "The +kind of twisted logic you expect from junkmen. They use us to feed them, +give us the absolute minimum in return, and at the same time cut us off +from the knowledge that will get us out of this hand to mouth existence. +Worse, far worse, they cut us off from the stars and the rest of +mankind." The hatred on his face was so strong that Jason unconsciously +drew back. + +"Do you think we are savages here, Jason? We act and look like animals +because we have to fight for existence on an animal level. Yet we know +about the stars. In that chest over there, sealed in metal, are over +thirty books, all we have. Fiction most of them, with some history and +general science thrown in. Enough to keep alive the stories of the +settlement here and the rest of the universe outside. We see the ships +land in the city and we know that up there are worlds we can only dream +about and never see. Do you wonder that we hate these beasts that call +themselves men, and would destroy them in an instant if we could? They +are right to keep weapons from us--for sure as the sun rises in the +morning we would kill them to a man if we were able, and take over the +things they have withheld from us." + + * * * * * + +It was a harsh condemnation, but essentially a truthful one. At least +from the point of view of the outsiders. Jason didn't try to explain to +the angry man that the city Pyrrans looked on their attitude as being +the only possible and logical one. "How did this battle between your two +groups ever come about?" he asked. + +"I don't know," Rhes said, "I've thought about it many times, but there +are no records of that period. We do know that we are all descended from +colonists who arrived at the same time. Somewhere, at some time, the two +groups separated. Perhaps it was a war, I've read about them in the +books. I have a partial theory, though I can't prove it, that it was the +location of the city." + +"Location--I don't understand." + +"Well, you know the junkmen, and you've seen where their city is. They +managed to put it right in the middle of the most savage spot on this +planet. You know they don't care about any living thing except +themselves, shoot and kill is their only logic. So they wouldn't +consider where to build their city, and managed to build it in the +stupidest spot imaginable. I'm sure my ancestors saw how foolish this +was and tried to tell them so. That would be reason enough for a war, +wouldn't it?" + +"It might have been--if that's really what happened," Jason said. "But I +think you have the problem turned backwards. It's a war between native +Pyrran life and humans, each fighting to destroy the other. The life +forms change continually, seeking that final destruction of the +invader." + +"Your theory is even wilder than mine," Rhes said. "That's not true at +all. I admit that life isn't too easy on this planet ... if what I have +read in the books about other planets is true ... but it doesn't change. +You have to be fast on your feet and keep your eyes open for anything +bigger than you, but you can survive. Anyway, it doesn't really matter +why. The junkmen always look for trouble and I'm happy to see that they +have enough." + +Jason didn't try to press the point. The effort of forcing Rhes to +change his basic attitudes wasn't worth it--even if possible. He hadn't +succeeded in convincing anyone in the city of the lethal mutations even +when they could observe all the facts. Rhes could still supply +information though. + +[Illustration] + +"I suppose it's not important who started the battle," Jason said for +the other man's benefit, not meaning a word of it, "but you'll have to +agree that the city people are permanently at war with all the local +life. Your people, though, have managed to befriend at least two species +that I have seen. Do you have any idea how this was done?" + +"Naxa will be here in a minute," Rhes said, pointing to the door, "as +soon as he's taken care of the animals. Ask him. He's the best talker we +have." + +"Talker?" Jason asked. "I had the opposite idea about him. He didn't +talk much, and what he did say was, well ... a little hard to understand +at times." + +"Not that kind of talking." Rhes broke in impatiently. "The talkers look +after the animals. They train the dogs and doryms, and the better ones +like Naxa are always trying to work with other beasts. They dress +crudely, but they have to. I've heard them say that the animals don't +like chemicals, metal or tanned leather, so they wear untanned furs for +the most part. But don't let the dirt fool you, it has nothing to do +with his intelligence." + +"Doryms? Are those your carrying beasts--the kind we rode coming here?" + +Rhes nodded. "Doryms are more than pack animals, they're really a little +bit of everything. The large males pull the ploughs and other machines, +while the younger animals are used for meat. If you want to know more, +ask Naxa, you'll find him in the barn." + +"I'd like to do that," Jason said, standing up. "Only I feel undressed +without my gun--" + +"Take it, by all means, it's in that chest by the door. Only watch out +what you shoot around here." + + * * * * * + +Naxa was in the rear of the barn, filing down one of the spadelike +toenails of a dorym. It was a strange scene. The fur-dressed man with +the great beast--and the contrast of a beryllium-copper file and +electroluminescent plates lighting the work. + +The dorym opened its nostrils and pulled away when Jason entered; Naxa +patted its neck and talked softly until it quieted and stood still, +shivering slightly. + +Something stirred in Jason's mind, with the feeling of a long unused +muscle being stressed. A hauntingly familiar sensation. + +"Good morning," Jason said. Naxa grunted something and went back to his +filing. Watching him for a few minutes, Jason tried to analyze this new +feeling. It itched and slipped aside when he reached for it, escaping +him. Whatever it was, it had started when Naxa had talked to the dorym. + +"Could you call one of the dogs in here, Naxa? I'd like to see one +closer up." + +Without raising his head from his work, Naxa gave a low whistle. Jason +was sure it couldn't have been heard outside of the barn. Yet within a +minute one of the Pyrran dogs slipped quietly in. The talker rubbed the +beast's head, mumbling to it, while the animal looked intently into his +eyes. + +The dog became restless when Naxa turned back to work on the dorym. It +prowled around the barn, sniffing, then moved quickly towards the open +door. Jason called it back. + +At least he meant to call it. At the last moment he said nothing. +Nothing aloud. On sudden impulse he kept his mouth closed--only he +called the dog with his mind. Thinking the words _come here_, directing +the impulse at the animal with all the force and direction he had ever +used to manipulate dice. As he did it he realized it had been a long +time since he had even considered using his psi powers. + +The dog stopped and turned back towards him. + +It hesitated, looking at Naxa, then walked over to Jason. + +Seen this closely the beast was a nightmare hound. The hairless +protective plates, tiny red-rimmed eyes, and countless, saliva-dripping +teeth did little to inspire confidence. Yet Jason felt no fear. There +was a rapport between man and animal that was understood. Without +conscious thought he reached out and scratched the dog along the back, +where he knew it itched. + +"Didn't know y're a talker," Naxa said. As he watched them, there was +friendship in his voice for the first time. + +"I didn't know either--until just now," Jason said. He looked into the +eyes of the animal before him, scratched the ridged and ugly back, and +began to understand. + +The talkers must have well developed psi facilities, that was obvious +now. There is no barrier of race or alien form when two creatures share +each other's emotions. Empathy first, so there would be no hatred or +fear. After that direct communication. The talkers might have been the +ones who first broke through the barrier of hatred on Pyrrus and learned +to live with the native life. Others could have followed their +example--this might explain how the community of "grubbers" had been +formed. + +Now that he was concentrating on it, Jason was aware of the soft flow +of thoughts around him. The consciousness of the dorym was matched by +other like patterns from the rear of the barn. He knew without going +outside that more of the big beasts were in the field back there. + +"This is all new to me," Jason said. "Have you ever thought about it, +Naxa? What does it feel like to be a talker? I mean, do you _know_ why +it is you can get the animals to obey you while other people have no +luck at all?" + +Thinking of this sort troubled Naxa. He ran his fingers through his +thick hair and scowled as he answered. "Nev'r thought about it. Just do +it. Just get t'know the beast real good, then y'can guess what they're +going t'do. That's all." + +It was obvious that Naxa had never thought about the origin of his +ability to control the animals. And if he hadn't--probably no one else +had. They had no reason to. They simply accepted the powers of talkers +as one of the facts of life. + +Ideas slipped towards each other in his mind, like the pieces of a +puzzle joining together. He had told Kerk that the native life of Pyrrus +had joined in battle against mankind, he didn't know why. Well--he still +didn't know why, but he was getting an idea of the "how." + +"About how far are we from the city?" Jason asked. "Do you have an idea +how long it would take us to get there by dorym?" + +"Half a day there--half back. Why? Y'want to go?" + +"I don't want to get into the city, not yet. But I would like to get +close to it," Jason told him. + +"See what Rhes say," was Naxa's answer. + + * * * * * + +Rhes granted instant permission without asking any questions. They +saddled up and left at once, in order to complete the round trip before +dark. + +They had been traveling less than an hour before Jason knew they were +going in the direction of the city. With each minute the feeling grew +stronger. Naxa was aware of it too, stirring in the saddle with unvoiced +feelings. They had to keep touching and reassuring their mounts which +were growing skittish and restless. + +"This is far enough," Jason said. Naxa gratefully pulled to a stop. + +The wordless thought beat through Jason's mind, filling it. He could +feel it on all sides--only much stronger ahead of them in the direction +of the unseen city. Naxa and the doryms reacted in the same way, +restlessly uncomfortable, not knowing the cause. + +One thing was obvious now. The Pyrran animals were sensitive to psi +radiation--probably the plants and lower life forms as well. Perhaps +they communicated by it, since they obeyed the men who had a strong +control of it. And in this area was a wash of psi radiation such as he +had never experienced before. Though his personal talents specialized in +psychokinesis--the mental control of inanimate matter--he was still +sensitive to most mental phenomena. Watching a sports event he had many +times felt the unanimous accord of many minds expressing the same +thought. What he felt now was like that. + +Only terribly different. A crowd exulted at some success on the field, +or groaned at a failure. The feeling fluxed and changed as the game +progressed. Here the wash of thought was unending, strong and +frightening. It didn't translate into words very well. It was part +hatred, part fear--and all destruction. + +"_KILL THE ENEMY_" was as close as Jason could express it. But it was +more than that. An unending river of mental outrage and death. + +"Let's go back now," he said, suddenly battered and sickened by the +feelings he had let wash through him. As they started the return trip he +began to understand many things. + +His sudden unspeakable fear when the Pyrran animal had attacked him that +first day on the planet. And his recurrent nightmares that had never +completely ceased, even with drugs. Both of these were his reaction to +the hatred directed at the city. Though for some reason he hadn't felt +it directly up to now, enough had reached through to him to get a strong +emotional reaction. + +Rhes was asleep when they got back and Jason couldn't talk to him until +morning. In spite of his fatigue from the trip, he stayed awake late +into the night, going over in his mind the discoveries of the day. Could +he tell Rhes what he had found out? Not very well. If he did that, he +would have to explain the importance of his discovery and what he meant +to use it for. Nothing that aided the city dwellers would appeal to Rhes +in the slightest. Best to say nothing until the entire affair was over. + + + + +XVIII. + + +After breakfast he told Rhes that he wanted to return to the city. + +"Then you have seen enough of our barbarian world, and wish to go back +to your friends. To help them wipe us out perhaps?" Rhes said it +lightly, but there was a touch of cold malice behind his words. + +"I hope you don't really think that," Jason told him. "You must realize +that the opposite is true. I would like to see this civil war ended and +your people getting all the benefits of science and medicine that have +been withheld. I'll do everything I can to bring that about." + +"They'll never change," Rhes said gloomily, "so don't waste your time. +But there is one thing you must do, for your protection and ours. Don't +admit, or even hint, that you've talked to any grubbers!" + +"Why not?" + +"Why not! Suffering death are you that simple! They will do anything to +see that we don't rise too high, and would much prefer to see us all +dead. Do you think they would hesitate to kill you if they as much as +suspected you had contacted us? They realize--even if you don't--that +you can singlehandedly alter the entire pattern of power on this planet. +The ordinary junkman may think of us as being only one step above the +animals, but the leaders don't. They know what we need and what we want. +They could probably guess just what it is I am going to ask you. + +"Help us, Jason dinAlt. Get back among those human pigs and lie. Say you +never talked to us, that you hid in the forest and we attacked you and +you had to shoot to save yourself. We'll supply some recent corpses to +make that part of your story sound good. Make them believe you, and even +after you think you have them convinced keep on acting the part because +they will be watching you. Then tell them you have finished your work +and are ready to leave. Get safely off Pyrrus, to another planet, and I +promise you anything in the universe. Whatever you want you shall have. +Power, money--_anything_. + +"This is a rich planet. The junkmen mine and sell the metal, but we +could do it much better. Bring a spaceship back here and land anywhere +on this continent. We have no cities, but our people have farms +everywhere, they will find you. We will then have commerce, trade--on +our own. This is what we all want and we will work hard for it. And +_you_ will have done it. Whatever you want we will give. That is a +promise and we do not break our promises." + +The intensity and magnitude of what he described rocked Jason. He knew +that Rhes spoke the truth and the entire resources of the planet would +be his, if he did as asked. For one second he was tempted, savoring the +thought of what it would be like. Then came realization that it would be +a half answer, and a poor one at that. If these people had the strength +they wanted, their first act would be the attempted destruction of the +city men. The result would be bloody civil war that would probably +destroy them both. Rhes' answer was a good one--but only half an answer. + +Jason had to find a better solution. One that would stop _all_ the +fighting on this planet and allow the two groups of humans to live in +peace. + +"I will do nothing to injure your people, Rhes--and everything in my +power to aid them," Jason said. + +This half answer satisfied Rhes, who could see only one interpretation +of it. He spent the rest of the morning on the communicator, arranging +for the food supplies that were being brought to the trading site. + +"The supplies are ready and we have sent the signal," he said. "The +truck will be there tomorrow and you will be waiting for it. Everything +is arranged as I told you. You'll leave now with Naxa. You must reach +the meeting spot before the trucks." + + + + +XIX. + + +"Trucks almost here. Y'know what to do?" Naxa asked. + +Jason nodded, and looked again at the dead man. Some beast had torn his +arm off and he had bled to death. The severed arm had been tied into the +shirt sleeve, so from a distance it looked normal. Seen close up this +limp arm, plus the white skin and shocked expression on the face, gave +Jason an unhappy sensation. He liked to see his corpses safely buried. +However he could understand its importance today. + +"Here they're. Wait until his back's turned," Naxa whispered. + +The armored truck had three powered trailers in tow this time. The train +ground up the rock slope and whined to a stop. Krannon climbed out of +the cab and looked carefully around before opening up the trailers. He +had a lift robot along to help him with the loading. + +"Now!" Naxa hissed. + +Jason burst into the clearing, running, shouting Krannon's name. There +was a crackling behind him as two of the hidden men hurled the corpse +through the foliage after him. He turned and fired without stopping, +setting the thing afire in midair. + +There was the crack of another gun as Krannon fired, his shot jarred the +twice-dead corpse before it hit the ground. Then he was lying prone, +firing into the trees behind the running Jason. + +Just as Jason reached the truck there was a whirring in the air and hot +pain ripped into his back, throwing him to the ground. He looked around +as Krannon dragged him through the door, and saw the metal shaft of a +crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder. + +"Lucky," the Pyrran said. "An inch lower would have got your heart. I +warned you about those grubbers. You're lucky to get off with only +this." He lay next to the door and snapped shots into the now quiet +wood. + +Taking out the bolt hurt much more than it had going in. Jason cursed +the pain as Krannon put on a dressing, and admired the singleness of +purpose of the people who had shot him. They had risked his life to make +his escape look real. And also risked the chance that he might turn +against them after being shot. They did a job completely and thoroughly +and he cursed them for their efficiency. + +Krannon climbed warily out of the truck, after Jason was bandaged. +Finishing the loading quickly, he started the train of trailers back +towards the city. Jason had an anti-pain shot and dozed off as soon as +they started. + + * * * * * + +While he slept, Krannon must have radioed ahead, because Kerk was +waiting when they arrived. As soon as the truck entered the perimeter he +threw open the door and dragged Jason out. The bandage pulled and Jason +felt the wound tear open. He ground his teeth together; Kerk would not +have the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. + +"I told you to stay in the buildings until the ship left. Why did you +leave? Why did you go outside? You talked to the grubbers--didn't you?" +With each question he shook Jason again. + +"I didn't talk to--anyone." Jason managed to get the words out. "They +tried to take me, I shot two--hid out until the trucks came back." + +"Got another one then," Krannon said. "I saw it. Good shooting. Think I +got some, too. Let him go Kerk, they shot him in the back before he +could reach the truck." + +_That's enough explanations_, Jason thought to himself. _Don't overdo +it. Let him make up his mind later. Now's the time to change the +subject. There's one thing that will get his mind off the grubbers._ + +"I've been fighting your war for you Kerk, while you stayed safely +inside the perimeter." Jason leaned back against the side of the truck +as the other loosened his grip. "I've found out what your battle with +this planet is really about--and how you can win it. Now let me sit down +and I'll tell you." + +More Pyrrans had come up while they talked. None of them moved now. Like +Kerk, they stood frozen, looking at Jason. When Kerk talked, he spoke +for all of them. + +"_What do you mean?_" + +"Just what I said. Pyrrus is fighting you--actively and consciously. Get +far enough out from this city and you can feel the waves of hatred that +are directed at it. No, that's wrong--you can't because you've grown up +with it. But I can, and so could anyone else with any sort of psi +sensitivity. There is a message of war being beamed against you +constantly. The life forms of this planet are psi-sensitive, and respond +to that order. They attack and change and mutate for your destruction. +And they'll keep on doing so until you are all dead. Unless you can stop +the war." + +"How?" Kerk snapped the word and every face echoed the question. + +"By finding whoever or whatever is sending that message. The life forms +that attack you have no reasoning intelligence. They are being ordered +to do so. I think I know how to find the source of these orders. After +that it will be a matter of getting across a message, asking for a truce +and an eventual end to all hostilities." + +A dead silence followed his words as the Pyrrans tried to comprehend the +ideas. Kerk moved first, waving them all away. + +"Go back to your work. This is my responsibility and I'll take care of +it. As soon as I find out what truth there is here--if any--I'll make a +complete report." The people drifted away silently, looking back as they +went. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX. + + +"From the beginning now," Kerk said. "And leave out nothing." + +"There is very little more that I can add to the physical facts. I saw +the animals, understood the message. I even experimented with some of +them and they reacted to my mental commands. What I must do now is track +down the source of the orders that keep this war going. + +"I'll tell you something that I have never told anyone else. I'm not +only lucky at gambling. I have enough psi ability to alter probability +in my favor. It's an erratic ability that I have tried to improve for +obvious reasons. During the past ten years I managed to study at all of +the centers that do psi research. Compared to other fields of knowledge +it is amazing how little they know. Basic psi talents can be improved by +practice, and some machines have been devised that act as psionic +amplifiers. One of these, used correctly, is a very good directional +indicator." + +"You want to build this machine?" Kerk asked. + +"Exactly. Build it and take it outside the city in the ship. Any signal +strong enough to keep this centuries-old battle going should be strong +enough to track down. I'll follow it, contact the creatures who are +sending it, and try to find out why they are doing it. I assume you'll +go along with any reasonable plan that will end this war?" + +"Anything reasonable," Kerk said coldly. "How long will it take you to +build this machine?" + +"Just a few days if you have all the parts here," Jason told him. + +"Then do it. I'm canceling the flight that's leaving now and I'll keep +the ship here, ready to go. When the machine is built I want you to +track the signal and report back to me." + +"Agreed," Jason said, standing up. "As soon as I have this hole in my +back looked at I'll draw up a list of things needed." + +A grim, unsmiling man named Skop was assigned to Jason as a combination +guide and guard. He took his job very seriously, and it didn't take +Jason long to realize that he was a prisoner-at-large. Kerk had accepted +his story, but that was no guarantee that he believed it. At a single +word from him, the guard could turn executioner. + +The chill thought hit Jason that undoubtedly this was what would happen. +Whether Kerk accepted the story or not--he couldn't afford to take a +chance. As long as there was the slightest possibility Jason had +contacted the grubbers, he could not be allowed to leave the planet +alive. The woods people were being simple if they thought a plan this +obvious might succeed. Or had they just gambled on the very long chance +it might work? _They_ certainly had nothing to lose by it. + +Only half of Jason's mind was occupied with the work as he drew up a +list of materials he would need for the psionic direction finder. His +thoughts plodded in tight circles, searching for a way out that didn't +exist. He was too deeply involved now to just leave. Kerk would see to +that. Unless he could find a way to end the war and settle the grubber +question he was marooned on Pyrrus for life. A very short life. + +When the list was ready he called Supply. With a few substitutions, +everything he might possibly need was in stock, and would be sent over. +Skop sank into an apparent doze in his chair and Jason, his head propped +against the pull of gravity by one arm, began a working sketch of his +machine. + +Jason looked up suddenly, aware of the silence. He could hear machinery +in the building and voices in the hall outside. What kind of silence +then--? + +Mental silence. He had been so preoccupied since his return to the city +that he hadn't noticed the complete lack of any kind of psi sensation. +The constant wash of animal reactions was missing, as was the vague +tactile awareness of his PK. With sudden realization he remembered that +it was always this way inside the city. + +He tried to listen with his mind--and stopped almost before he began. +There was a constant press of thought about him that he was made aware +of when he reached out. It was like being in a vessel far beneath the +ocean, with your hand on the door that held back the frightening +pressure. Touching the door, without opening it, you could feel the +stresses, the power pushing in and waiting to crush you. It was this way +with the psi pressure on the city. The unvoiced hate-filled screams of +Pyrrus would instantly destroy any mind that received them. Some +function of his brain acted as a psi-circuit breaker, shutting off +awareness before his mind could be blasted. There was just enough +leak-through to keep him aware of the pressure--and supply the raw +materials for his constant nightmares. + +There was only one fringe benefit. The lack of thought pressure made it +easier for him to concentrate. In spite of his fatigue the diagram +developed swiftly. + + * * * * * + +Meta arrived late that afternoon, bringing the parts he had ordered. She +slid the long box onto the workbench, started to speak, but changed her +mind and said nothing. Jason looked up at her and smiled. + +"Confused?" he asked. + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, "I'm not confused. Just annoyed. +The regular trip has been canceled and our supply schedule will be +thrown off for months to come. And instead of piloting or perimeter +assignment all I can do is stand around and wait for you. Then take +some silly flight following your directions. Do you wonder that I'm +annoyed?" + +Jason carefully set the parts out on the chassis before he spoke. "As I +said, you're confused. I can point out how you're confused--which will +make you even more confused. A temptation that I frankly find hard to +resist." + +She looked across the bench at him, frowning. One finger unconsciously +curling and uncurling a short lock of hair. Jason liked her this way. As +a Pyrran operating at full blast she had as much personality as a gear +in a machine. Once out of that pattern she reminded him more of the girl +he had known on that first flight to Pyrrus. He wondered if it was +possible to really get across to her what he meant. + +"I'm not being insulting when I say 'confused,' Meta. With your +background you couldn't be any other way. You have an insular +personality. Admittedly, Pyrrus is an unusual island with a lot of +high-power problems that you are an expert at solving. That doesn't make +it any less of an island. When you face a cosmopolitan problem you are +confused. Or even worse, when your island problems are put into a bigger +context. That's like playing your own game, only having the rules change +constantly as you go along." + +"You're talking nonsense," she snapped at him. "Pyrrus isn't an island +and battling for survival is definitely not a game." + +"I'm sorry," he smiled. "I was using a figure of speech, and a badly +chosen one at that. Let's put the problem on more concrete terms. Take +an example. Suppose I were to tell you that over there, hanging from the +doorframe, was a stingwing--" + +Meta's gun was pointing at the door before he finished the last word. +There was a crash as the guard's chair went over. He had jumped from a +half-doze to full alertness in an instant, his gun also searching the +doorframe. + +"That was just an example," Jason said. "There's really nothing there." +The guard's gun vanished and he scowled a look of contempt at Jason, as +he righted the chair and dropped into it. + +"You both have proved yourself capable of handling a Pyrran problem." +Jason continued. "But what if I said that there is a thing hanging from +the doorframe that _looks_ like a stingwing, but is really a kind of +large insect that spins a fine silk that can be used to weave clothes?" + +The guard glared from under his thick eyebrows at the empty doorframe, +his gun whined part way out, then snapped back into the holster. He +growled something inaudible at Jason, then stamped into the outer room, +slamming the door behind him. Meta frowned in concentration and looked +puzzled. + +"It couldn't be anything except a stingwing," she finally said. "Nothing +else could possibly look like that. And even if it didn't spin silk, it +would bite if you got near, so you would have to kill it." She smiled +with satisfaction at the indestructible logic of her answer. + +"Wrong again," Jason said. "I just described the mimic-spinner that +lives on Stover's Planet. It imitates the most violent forms of life +there, does such a good job that it has no need for other defenses. +It'll sit quietly on your hand and spin for you by the yard. If I +dropped a shipload of them here on Pyrrus, you never could be sure when +to shoot, could you?" + +"But they are not here now," Meta insisted. + +"Yet they could be quite easily. And if they were, all the rules of your +game would change. Getting the idea now? There are some fixed laws and +rules in the galaxy--but they're not the ones you live by. Your rule is +war unending with the local life. I want to step outside your rule book +and end that war. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like an existence +that was more than just an endless battle for survival? A life with a +chance for happiness, love, music, art--all the enjoyable things you +have never had the time for." + +All the Pyrran sternness was gone from her face as she listened to what +he said, letting herself follow these alien concepts. He had put his +hand out automatically as he talked, and had taken hers. It was warm and +her pulse fast to his touch. + +Meta suddenly became conscious of his hand and snapped hers away, rising +to her feet at the same time. As she started blindly towards the door, +Jason's voice snapped after her. + +"The guard, Skop, ran out because he didn't want to lose his precious +two-value logic. It's all he has. But you've seen other parts of the +galaxy, Meta, you know there is a lot more to life than +kill-and-be-killed on Pyrrus. You feel it is true, even if you won't +admit it." + +She turned and ran out the door. + +Jason looked after her, his hand scraping the bristle on his chin +thoughtfully. "Meta, I have the faint hope that the woman is winning +over the Pyrran. I think that I saw--perhaps for the first time in the +history of this bloody war-torn city--a tear in one of its citizen's +eyes." + + + + +XXI. + + +"Drop that equipment and Kerk will undoubtedly pull both your arms off," +Jason said. "He's over there now, looking as sorry as possible that I +ever talked him into this." + +Skop cursed under the bulky mass of the psi detector, passing it up to +Meta who waited in the open port of the spaceship. Jason supervised the +loading, and blasted all the local life that came to investigate. +Horndevils were thick this morning and he shot four of them. He was last +aboard and closed the lock behind him. + +"Where are you going to install it?" Meta asked. + +"You tell me," Jason said. "I need a spot for the antenna where there +will be no dense metal in front of the bowl to interfere with the +signal. Thin plastic will do, or if worst comes to worst I can mount it +outside the hull with a remote drive." + +"You may have to," she said. "The hull is an unbroken unit, we do all +viewing by screen and instruments. I don't think ... wait ... there is +one place that might do." + +She led the way to a bulge in the hull that marked one of the lifeboats. +They went in through the always-open lock, Skop struggling after them +with the apparatus. + +"These lifeboats are half buried in the ship," Meta explained. "They +have transparent front ports covered by friction shields that withdraw +automatically when the boat is launched." + +"Can we pull back the shields now?" + +"I think so," she said. She traced the launching circuits to a junction +box and opened the lid. When she closed the shield relay manually, the +heavy plates slipped back into the hull. There was a clear view, since +most of the viewport projected beyond the parent ship. + +"Perfect," Jason said. "I'll set up here. Now how do I talk to you in +the ship?" + +"Right here," she said. "There's a pre-tuned setting on this +communicator. Don't touch anything else--and particularly not this +switch." She pointed to a large pull-handle set square into the center +of the control board. "Emergency launching. Two seconds after that is +pulled the lifeboat is shot free. And it so happens this boat has no +fuel." + +"Hands off for sure," Jason said. "Now have Husky there run me in a line +with ship's power and I'll get this stuff set up." + +The detector was simple, though the tuning had to be precise. A +dish-shaped antenna pulled in the signal for the delicately balanced +detector. There was a sharp fall-off on both sides of the input so +direction could be precisely determined. The resulting signal was fed to +an amplifier stage. Unlike the electronic components of the first stage, +this one was drawn in symbols on white paper. Carefully glued-on input +and output leads ran to it. + +When everything was ready and clamped into place, Jason nodded to Meta's +image on the screen. "Take her up--and easy please. None of your nine-G +specials. Go into a slow circle around the perimeter, until I tell you +differently." + + * * * * * + +Under steady power the ship lifted and grabbed for altitude, then eased +into its circular course. They made five circuits of the city before +Jason shook his head. + +"The thing seems to be working fine, but we're getting too much noise +from all the local life. Get thirty kilometers out from the city and +start a new circuit." + +[Illustration] + +The results were better this time. A powerful signal came from the +direction of the city, confined to less than a degree of arc. With the +antenna fixed at a right angle to the direction of the ship's flight, +the signal was fairly constant. Meta rotated the ship on its main axis, +until Jason's lifeboat was directly below. + +"Going fine now," he said. "Just hold your controls as they are and keep +the nose from drifting." + +After making a careful mark on the setting circle, Jason turned the +receiving antenna through one hundred eighty degrees of arc. As the ship +kept to its circle, he made a slow collecting sweep of any signals +beamed at the city. They were halfway around before he got a new signal. + +It was there all right, narrow but strong. Just to be sure he let the +ship complete two more sweeps, and he noted the direction on the +gyro-compass each time. They coincided. The third time around he called +to Meta. + +"Get ready for a full right turn, or whatever you call it. I think I +have our bearing. Get ready--_now_." + +It was a slow turn and Jason never lost the signal. A few times it +wavered, but he brought it back on. When the compass settled down Meta +pushed on more power. + +They set their course towards the native Pyrrans. + +An hour's flight at close to top atmospheric speed brought no change. +Meta complained, but Jason kept her on course. The signal never varied +and was slowly picking up strength. They crossed the chain of volcanoes +that marked the continental limits, the ship bucking in the fierce +thermals. Once the shore was behind and they were over water, Skop +joined Meta in grumbling. He kept his turret spinning, but there was +very little to shoot at this far from land. + +When the islands came over the horizon the signal began to dip. + +"Slow now," Jason called. "Those islands ahead look like our source!" + +A continent had been here once, floating on Pyrrus' liquid core. +Pressures changed, land masses shifted, and the continent had sunk +beneath the ocean. All that was left now of the teeming life of that +land mass was confined to a chain of islands, once the mountain peaks of +the highest range of mountains. These islands, whose sheer, sides rose +straight from the water, held the last inhabitants of the lost +continent. The weeded-out descendants, of the victors of uncountable +violent contests. Here lived the oldest native Pyrrans. + +"Come in lower," Jason signaled. "Towards that large peak. The signals +seem to originate there." + +They swooped low over the mountain, but nothing was visible other than +the trees and sun-blasted rock. + +The pain almost took Jason's head off. A blast of hatred that drove +through the amplifier and into his skull. He tore off the phones, and +clutched his skull between his hands. Through watering eyes he saw the +black cloud of flying beasts hurtle up from the trees below. He had a +single glimpse of the hillside beyond, before Meta blasted power to the +engines and the ship leaped away. + +"We've found them!" Her fierce exultation faded as she saw Jason through +the communicator. "Are you all right? What happened?" + +"Feel ... burned out ... I've felt a psi blast before, but nothing like +that! I had a glimpse of an opening, looked like a cave mouth, just +before the blast hit. Seemed to come from there." + +"Lie down," Meta said. "I'll get you back as fast as I can. I'm calling +ahead to Kerk, he has to know what happened." + + * * * * * + +A group of men were waiting in the landing station when they came down. +They stormed out as soon as the ship touched, shielding their faces from +the still-hot tubes. Kerk burst in as soon as the port was cracked, +peering around until he spotted Jason stretched out on an acceleration +couch. + +"Is it true?" he barked. "You've traced the alien criminals who started +this war?" + +"Slow, man, slow," Jason said. "I've traced the source of the psi +message that keeps your war going. I've found no evidence as to who +started this war, and certainly wouldn't go so far as to call them +criminals--" + +"I'm tired of your word-play," Kerk broke in. "You've found these +creatures and their location has been marked." + +"On the chart," Meta said, "I could fly there blindfolded." + +"Fine, fine," Kerk said, rubbing his hands together so hard they could +hear the harsh rasp of the callouses. "It takes a real effort to grasp +the idea that, after all these centuries, the war might be coming to an +end. But it's possible now. Instead of simply killing off these +self-renewing legions of the damned that attack us, we can get to the +leaders. Search them out, carry the war to them for a change--and blast +their stain from the face of this planet!" + +"Nothing of the sort!" Jason said, sitting up with an effort. "Nothing +doing! Since I came to this planet I have been knocked around, and +risked my life ten times over. Do you think I have done this just to +satisfy your blood-thirsty ambitions? It's peace I'm after--not +destruction. You promised to contact these creatures, attempt to +negotiate with them. Aren't you a man of honor who keeps his word?" + +"I'll ignore the insult--though I'd have killed you for it at any other +time," Kerk said. "You've been of great service to our people, we are +not ashamed to acknowledge an honest debt. At the same time--do not +accuse me of breaking promises that I never made. I recall my exact +words. I promised to go along with any reasonable plan that would end +this war. That is just what I intend to do. Your plan to negotiate a +peace is not reasonable. Therefore we are going to destroy the enemy." + +"Think first," Jason called after Kerk, who had turned to leave. "What +is wrong with trying negotiation or an armistice? Then, if that fails, +you can try your way." + +The compartment was getting crowded as other Pyrrans pushed in. Kerk, +almost to the door, turned back to face Jason. + +"I'll tell you what's wrong with armistice," he said. "It's a coward's +way out, that's what it is. It's all right for you to suggest it, you're +from off-world and don't know any better. But do you honestly think I +could entertain such a defeatist notion for one instant? When I speak, I +speak not only for myself, but for all of us here. We don't mind +fighting, and we know how to do it. We know that if this war was over we +could build a better world here. At the same time, if we have the choice +of continued war or a cowardly peace--_we vote for war_. This war will +only be over when the enemy is utterly destroyed!" + +The listening Pyrrans shouted in agreement, and when Kerk pushed out +through the crowd some of them patted his shoulder as he went by. Jason +slumped back on the couch, worn out by his exertions and exhausted by +the attempt to win the violent Pyrrans over to a peaceful point of view. + +When he looked up they were gone--all except Meta. She had the same look +of blood-thirsty elation as the others, but it drained away when she +glanced at him. + +"What about it, Meta?" he asked bitterly. "No doubts? Do you think that +destruction is the only way to end this war?" + +"I don't know," she said. "I can't be sure. For the first time in my +life I find myself with more than one answer to the same question." + +"Congratulations," he said. "It's a sign of growing up." + + + + +XXII. + + +Jason stood to one side and watched the deadly cargo being loaded into +the hold of the ship. The Pyrrans were in good humor as they stowed away +riot guns, grenades and gas bombs. When the back-pack atom bomb was put +aboard one of them broke into a marching song, and the others picked it +up. Maybe they were happy, but the approaching carnage only filled Jason +with an intense gloom. He felt that somehow he was a traitor to life. +Perhaps the life form he had found needed destroying--and perhaps it +didn't. Without making the slightest attempt at conciliation, +destruction would be plain murder. + +Kerk came out of the operations building and the starter pumps could be +heard whining inside the ship. They would leave within minutes. Jason +forced himself into a foot-dragging rush and met Kerk halfway to the +ship. + +"I'm coming with you, Kerk. You owe me at least that much for finding +them." + +Kerk hesitated, not liking the idea. "This is an operational mission," +he said. "No room for observers, and the extra weight-- And it's too +late to stop us Jason, you know that." + +"You Pyrrans are the worst liars in the universe," Jason said. "We both +know that ship can lift ten times the amount it's carrying today. +Now ... do you let me come, or forbid me without reason at all?" + +"Get aboard," Kerk said. "But keep out of the way or you'll get +trampled." + +This time, with a definite destination ahead, the flight was much +faster. Meta took the ship into the stratosphere, in a high ballistic +arc that ended at the islands. Kerk was in the co-pilot's seat, Jason +sat behind them where he could watch the screens. The landing party, +twenty-five volunteers, were in the hold below with the weapons. All the +screens in the ship were switched to the forward viewer. They watched +the green island appear and swell, then vanish behind the flames of the +braking rockets. Jockeying the ship carefully, Meta brought it down on a +flat shelf near the cave mouth. + +Jason was ready this time for the blast of mental hatred--but it still +hurt. The gunners laughed and killed gleefully as every animal on the +island closed in on the ship. They were slaughtered by the thousands, +and still more came. + +"Do you have to do this?" Jason asked. "It's murder--carnage, just +butchering those beasts like that." + +"Self-defense," Kerk said. "They attack us and they get killed. What +could be simpler? Now shut up, or I'll throw you out there with them." + +It was a half an hour before the gunfire slackened. Animals still +attacked them, but the mass assaults seemed to be over. Kerk spoke into +the intercom. + +"Landing party away--and watch your step. They know we're here and will +make it as hot as they can. Take the bomb into that cave and see how far +back it runs. We can always blast them from the air, but it'll do no +good if they're dug into solid rock. Keep your screen open, leave the +bomb and pull back at once if I tell you to. Now move." + + * * * * * + +The men swarmed down the ladders and formed into open battle formation. +They were soon under attack, but the beasts were picked off before they +could get close. It didn't take long for the man at point to reach the +cave. He had his pickup trained in front of him, and the watchers in the +ship followed the advance. + +"Big cave," Kerk grunted. "Slants back and down. What I was afraid of. +Bomb dropped on that would just close it up. With no guarantee that +anything sealed in it, couldn't eventually get out. We'll have to see +how far down it goes." + +There was enough heat in the cave now to use the infra-red filters. The +rock walls stood out harshly black and white as the advance continued. + +"No signs of life since entering the cave," the officer reported. +"Gnawed bones at the entrance and some bat droppings. It looks like a +natural cave--so far." + +Step by step the advance continued, slowing as it went. Insensitive as +the Pyrrans were to psi pressure, even they were aware of the blast of +hatred being continuously leveled at them. Jason, back in the ship, had +a headache that slowly grew worse instead of better. + +"_Watch out!_" Kerk shouted, staring at the screen with horror. + +The cave was filled from wall to wall with pallid, eyeless animals. They +poured from tiny side passages and seemed to literally emerge from the +ground. Their front ranks dissolved in flame, but more kept pressing in. +On the screen the watchers in the ship saw the cave spin dizzily as the +operator fell. Pale bodies washed up and concealed the lens. + +"Close ranks--flame-throwers and gas!" Kerk bellowed into the mike. + +Less than half of the men were alive after that first attack. The +survivors, protected by the flame-throwers, set off the gas grenades. +Their sealed battle armor protected them while the section of cave +filled with gas. Someone dug through the bodies of their attackers and +found the pickup. + +"Leave the bomb there and withdraw," Kerk ordered. "We've had enough +losses already." + +A different man stared out of the screen. The officer was dead. "Sorry, +sir," he said, "but it will be just as easy to push ahead as back as +long as the gas grenades hold out. We're too close now to pull back." + +"That's an order," Kerk shouted, but the man was gone from the screen +and the advance continued. + +Jason's fingers hurt where he had them clamped to the chair arm. He +pulled them loose and massaged them. On the screen the black and white +cave flowed steadily towards them. Minute after minute went by this way. +Each time the animals attacked again, a few more gas grenades were used +up. + +"Something ahead--looks different," the panting voice cracked from the +speaker. The narrow cave slowly opened out into a gigantic chamber, so +large the roof and far walls were lost in the distance. + +"What are those?" Kerk asked. "Get a searchlight over to the right +there." + +The picture on the screen was fuzzy and hard to see now, dimmed by the +layers of rock in-between. Details couldn't be made out clearly, but it +was obvious this was something unusual. + +"Never saw ... anything quite like them before," the speaker said. "Look +like big plants of some kind, ten meters tall at least--yet they're +moving. Those branches, tentacles or whatever they are, keep pointing +towards us and I get the darkest feeling in my head ..." + +"Blast one, see what happens," Kerk said. + +The gun fired and at the same instant an intensified wave of mental +hatred rolled over the men, dropping them to the ground. They rolled in +pain, blacked out and unable to think or fight the underground beasts +that poured over them in renewed attack. + +In the ship, far above, Jason felt the shock to his mind and wondered +how the men below could have lived through it. The others in the control +room had been hit by it as well. Kerk pounded on the frame of the screen +and shouted to the unhearing men below. + +"Pull back, come back ..." + +It was too late. The men only stirred slightly as the victorious Pyrran +animals washed over them, clawing for the joints in their armor. Only +one man moved, standing up and beating the creatures away with his bare +hands. He stumbled a few feet and bent over the writhing mass below him. +With a heave of his shoulders he pulled another man up. The man was dead +but his shoulder pack was still strapped to his back. Bloody fingers +fumbled at the pack, then both men were washed back under the wave of +death. + +"That was the bomb!" Kerk shouted to Meta. "If he didn't change the +setting, it's still on ten-second minimum. Get out of here!" + + * * * * * + +Jason had just time to fall back on the acceleration couch before the +rockets blasted. The pressure leaned on him and kept mounting. Vision +blacked out but he didn't lose consciousness. Air screamed across the +hull, then the sound stopped as they left the atmosphere behind. + +Just as Meta cut the power a glare of white light burst from the +screens. They turned black instantly as the hull pickups burned out. She +switched filters into place, then pressed the button that rotated new +pickups into position. + +Far below, in the boiling sea, a climbing cloud of mushroom-shaped flame +filled the spot where the island had been seconds before. The three of +them looked at it, silently and unmoving. Kerk recovered first. + +"Head for home, Meta, and get operations on the screen. Twenty-five men +dead, but they did their job. They knocked out those beasts--whatever +they were--and ended the war. I can't think of a better way for a man to +die." + +Meta set the orbit, then called operations. + +"Trouble getting through," she said. "I have a robot landing beam +response, but no one is answering the call." + +A man appeared on the empty screen. He was beaded with sweat and had a +harried look in his eyes. "Kerk," he said, "is that you? Get the ship +back here at once. We need her firepower at the perimeter. All blazes +broke loose a minute ago, a general attack from every side, worse than +I've ever seen." + +"What do you mean?" Kerk stammered in unbelief. "The war is over--we +blasted them, destroyed their headquarters completely." + +"The war is going like it never has gone before," the other snapped +back. "I don't know what you did, but it stirred up the stewpot of hell +here. Now stop talking and get the ship back!" + +Kerk turned slowly to face Jason, his face pulled back in a look of raw +animal savagery. + +"You--! You did it! I should have killed you the first time I saw you. I +wanted to, now I know I was right. You've been like a plague since you +came here, sowing death in every direction. I knew you were wrong, yet I +let your twisted words convince me. And look what has happened. First +you killed Welf. Then you murdered those men in the cave. Now this +attack on the perimeter--all who die there, you will have killed!" + +Kerk advanced on Jason, step by slow step, hatred twisting his features. +Jason backed away until he could retreat no further, his shoulders +against the chart case. Kerk's hand lashed out, not a fighting blow, but +an open slap. Though Jason rolled with it, it still battered him and +stretched him full length on the floor. His arm was against the chart +case, his fingers near the sealed tubes that held the jump matrices. + +Jason seized one of the heavy tubes with both hands and pulled it out. +He swung it with all his strength into Kerk's face. It broke the skin +on his cheekbone and forehead and blood ran from the cuts. But it didn't +slow or stop the big man in the slightest. His smile held no mercy as he +reached down and dragged Jason to his feet. + +"Fight back," he said, "I will have that much more pleasure as I kill +you." He drew back the granite fist that would tear Jason's head from +his shoulders. + +"Go ahead," Jason said, and stopped struggling. "Kill me. You can do it +easily. Only don't call it justice. Welf died to save me. But the men on +the island died because of your stupidity. I wanted peace and you wanted +war. Now you have it. Kill me to soothe your conscience, because the +truth is something you can't face up to." + +With a bellow of rage Kerk drove the pile-driver fist down. + +Meta grabbed the arm in both her hands and hung on, pulling it aside +before the blow could land. The three of them fell together, half +crushing Jason. + +"Don't do it," she screamed. "Jason didn't want those men to go down +there. That was your idea. You can't kill him for that!" + +Kerk, exploding with rage, was past hearing. He turned his attention to +Meta, tearing her from him. She was a woman and her supple strength was +meager compared to his great muscles. But she was a Pyrran woman and she +did what no off-worlder could. She slowed him for a moment, stopped the +fury of his attack until he could rip her hands loose and throw her +aside. It didn't take him long to do this, but it was just time enough +for Jason to get to the door. + + * * * * * + +Jason stumbled through, and jammed shut the lock behind him. A split +second after he had driven the bolt home Kerk's weight plunged into the +door. The metal screamed and bent, giving way. One hinge was torn loose +and the other held only by a shred of metal. It would go down on the +next blow. + +Jason wasn't waiting for that. He hadn't stayed to see if the door would +stop the raging Pyrran. No door on the ship could stop him. Fast as +possible, Jason went down the gangway. There was no safety on the ship, +which meant he had to get off it. The lifeboat deck was just ahead. + +Ever since first seeing them, he had given a lot of thought to the +lifeboats. Though he hadn't looked ahead to this situation, he knew a +time might come when he would need transportation of his own. The +lifeboats had seemed to be the best bet, except that Meta had told him +they had no fuel. She had been right in one thing--the boat he had been +in had empty tanks, he had checked. There were five other boats, though, +that he hadn't examined. He had wondered about the idea of useless +lifeboats and come to what he hoped was a correct conclusion. + +This spaceship was the only one the Pyrrans had. Meta had told him once +that they always had planned to buy another ship, but never did. Some +other necessary war expense managed to come up first. One ship was +really enough for their uses. The only difficulty lay in the fact they +had to keep that ship in operation or the Pyrran city was dead. Without +supplies they would be wiped out in a few months. Therefore the ship's +crew couldn't conceive of abandoning their ship. No matter what kind of +trouble she got into, they couldn't leave her. When the ship died, so +did their world. + +With this kind of thinking, there was no need to keep the lifeboats +fueled. Not all of them, at least. Though it stood to reason at least +one of them held fuel for short flights that would have been wasteful +for the parent ship. At this point Jason's chain of logic grew weak. Too +many "ifs." _If_ they used the lifeboats at all, one of them should be +fueled. _If_ they did, it would be fueled now. And _if_ it were +fueled--which one of the six would it be? Jason had no time to go +looking. He had to be right the first time. + +His reasoning had supplied him with an answer, the last of a long line +of suppositions. If a boat were fueled, it should be the one nearest to +the control cabin. The one he was diving towards now. His life depended +on this string of guesses. + +Behind him the door went down with a crash. Kerk bellowed and leaped. +Jason hurled himself through the lifeboat port with the nearest thing to +a run he could manage under the doubled gravity. With both hands he +grabbed the emergency launching handle and pulled down. + +An alarm bell rang and the port slammed shut, literally in Kerk's face. +Only his Pyrran reflexes saved him from being smashed by it. + +Solid-fuel launchers exploded and blasted the lifeboat clear of the +parent ship. Their brief acceleration slammed Jason to the deck, then he +floated as the boat went into free fall. The main drive rockets didn't +fire. + +[Illustration] + +In that moment Jason learned what it was like to know he was dead. +Without fuel the boat would drop into the jungle below, falling like a +rock and blasting apart when it hit. There was no way out. + +Then the rockets caught, roared, and he dropped to the deck, bruising +his nose. He sat up, rubbing it and grinning. There was fuel in the +tanks--the delay in starting had only been part of the launching cycle, +giving the lifeboat time to fall clear of the ship. Now to get it under +control. He pulled himself into the pilot's seat. + +The altimeter had fed information to the autopilot, leveling the boat +off parallel to the ground. Like all lifeboat controls these were +childishly simple, designed to be used by novices in an emergency. The +autopilot could not be shut off, it rode along with the manual controls, +tempering foolish piloting. Jason hauled the control wheel into a tight +turn and the autopilot gentled it to a soft curve. + +Through the port he could see the big ship blaring fire in a much +tighter turn. Jason didn't know who was flying it or what they had in +mind--he took no chances. Jamming the wheel forward into a dive he +cursed as they eased into a gentle drop. The larger ship had no such +restrictions. It changed course with a violent maneuver and dived on +him. The forward turret fired and an explosion at the stern rocked the +little boat. This either knocked out the autopilot or shocked it into +submission. The slow drop turned into a power dive and the jungle +billowed up. + +Jason pulled the wheel back and there was just time to get his arms in +front of his face before they hit. + +Thundering rockets and cracking trees ended in a great splash. Silence +followed and the smoke drifted away. High above, the spaceship circled +hesitantly. Dropping a bit as if wanting to go down and investigate. +Then rising again as the urgent message for aid came from the city. +Loyalty won and she turned and spewed fire towards home. + + + + +XXIII. + + +Tree branches had broken the lifeboat's fall, the bow rockets had burned +out in emergency blast, and the swamp had cushioned the landing a bit. +It was still a crash. The battered cylinder sank slowly into the +stagnant water and thin mud of the swamp. The bow was well under before +Jason managed to kick open the emergency hatch in the waist. + +There was no way of knowing how long it would take for the boat to go +under, and Jason was in no condition to ponder the situation. Concussed +and bloody, he had just enough drive left to get himself out. Wading and +falling he made his way to firmer land, sitting down heavily as soon as +he found something that would support him. + +Behind him the lifeboat burbled and sank under the water. Bubbles of +trapped air kept rising for a while, then stopped. The water stilled +and, except for the broken branches and trees, there was no sign that a +ship had ever come this way. + +Insects whined across the swamp, and the only sound that broke the quiet +of the woods beyond was the cruel scream of an animal pulling down its +dinner. When that had echoed away in tiny waves of sound everything was +silent. + +Jason pulled himself out of the half trance with an effort. His body +felt like it had been through a meat grinder, and it was almost +impossible to think with the fog in his head. After minutes of +deliberation he figured out that the medikit was what he needed. The +easy-off snap was very difficult and the button release didn't work. He +finally twisted his arm around until it was under the orifice and +pressed the entire unit down. It buzzed industriously, though he +couldn't feel the needles, he guessed it had worked. His sight spun +dizzily for a while then cleared. Pain-killers went to work and he +slowly came out of the dark cloud that had enveloped his brain since the +crash. + +Reason returned and loneliness rode along with it. He was without food, +friendless, surrounded by the hostile forces of an alien planet. There +was a rising panic that started deep inside of him, that took +concentrated effort to hold down. + +"Think, Jason, don't emote," he said it aloud to reassure himself, but +was instantly sorry, because his voice sounded weak in the emptiness, +with a ragged edge of hysteria to it. Something caught in his throat and +he coughed to clear it, spitting out blood. Looking at the red stain he +was suddenly angry. Hating this deadly planet and the incredible +stupidity of the people who lived on it. Cursing out loud was better and +his voice didn't sound as weak now. He ended up shouting and shaking his +fist at nothing in particular, but it helped. The anger washed away the +fear and brought him back to reality. + +Sitting on the ground felt good now. The sun was warm and when he leaned +back he could almost forget the unending burden of doubled gravity. +Anger had carried away fear, rest erased fatigue. From somewhere in the +back of his mind there popped up the old platitude. _Where there's life, +there's hope._ He grimaced at the triteness of the words, at the same +time realizing that a basic truth lurked there. + +Count his assets. Well battered, but still alive. None of the bruises +seemed very important, and no bones were broken. His gun was still +working, it dipped in and out of the power holster as he thought about +it. Pyrrans made rugged equipment. The medikit was operating as well. If +he kept his senses, managed to walk in a fairly straight line and could +live off the land, there was a fair chance he might make it back to the +city. What kind of a reception would be waiting for him there was a +different matter altogether. He would find that out after he arrived. +Getting there had first priority. + +On the debit side there stood the planet Pyrrus. Strength-sapping +gravity, murderous weather, and violent animals. Could he survive? As if +to add emphasis to his thoughts, the sky darkened over and rain hissed +into the forest, marching towards him. Jason scrambled to his feet and +took a bearing before the rain closed down visibility. A jagged chain of +mountains stood dimly on the horizon, he remembered crossing them on the +flight out. They would do as a first goal. After he had reached them, he +would worry about the next leg of the journey. + + * * * * * + +Leaves and dirt flew before the wind in quick gusts, then the rain +washed over him. Soaked, chilled, already bone-tired, he pitted the +tottering strength of his legs against the planet of death. + +When nightfall came it was still raining. There was no way of being sure +of the direction, and no point in going on. If that wasn't enough, Jason +was on the ragged edge of exhaustion. It was going to be a wet night. +All the trees were thick-boled and slippery, he couldn't have climbed +them on a one-G world. The sheltered spots that he investigated, under +fallen trees and beneath thick bushes, were just as wet as the rest of +the forest. In the end he curled up on the leeward side of a tree, and +fell asleep, shivering, with the water dripping off him. + +The rain stopped around midnight and the temperature fell sharply. Jason +woke sluggishly from a dream in which he was being frozen to death, to +find it was almost true. Fine snow was sifting through the trees, +powdering the ground and drifting against him. The cold bit into his +flesh, and when he sneezed it hurt his chest. His aching and numb body +only wanted rest, but the spark of reason that remained in him, forced +him to his feet. If he lay down now, he would die. Holding one hand +against the tree so he wouldn't fall, he began to trudge around it. Step +after shuffling step, around and around, until the terrible cold eased a +bit and he could stop shivering. Fatigue crawled up him like a muffling, +gray blanket. He kept on walking, half the time with his eyes closed. +Opening them only when he fell and had to climb painfully to his feet +again. + +The sun burned away the snow clouds at dawn. Jason leaned against his +tree and blinked up at the sky with sore eyes. The ground was white in +all directions, except around the tree where his stumbling feet had +churned a circle of black mud. His back against the smooth trunk, Jason +sank slowly down to the ground, letting the sun soak into him. + +Exhaustion had him light-headed, and his lips were cracked from thirst. +Almost continuous coughing tore at his chest with fingers of fire. +Though the sun was still low it was hot already, burning his skin dry. +Dry and hot. + +It wasn't right. This thought kept nagging at his brain until he +admitted it. Turned it over and over and looked at it from all sides. +What wasn't right? The way he felt. + +Pneumonia. He had all the symptoms. + +His dry lips cracked and blood moistened them when he smiled. He had +avoided all the animal perils of Pyrrus, all the big carnivores and +poisonous reptiles, only to be laid low by the smallest beast of them +all. Well, he had the remedy for this one, too. Rolling up his sleeve +with shaking fingers, he pressed the mouth of the medikit to his bare +arm. It clicked and began to drone an angry whine. That meant something, +he knew, but he just couldn't remember what. Holding it up he saw that +one of the hypodermics was projecting halfway from its socket. Of +course. It was empty of whatever antibiotic the analyzer had called for. +It needed refilling. + +Jason hurled the thing away with a curse, and it splashed into a pool +and was gone. End of medicine, end of medikit, end of Jason dinAlt. +Single-handed battler against the perils of deathworld. Strong-hearted +stranger who could do as well as the natives. It had taken him all of +one day on his own to get his death warrant signed. + + * * * * * + +A choking growl echoed behind him. He turned, dropped and fired in the +same motion. It was all over before his conscious mind was aware it had +happened. Pyrran training had conditioned his reflexes on the +pre-cortical level. Jason gaped at the ugly beast dying not a meter from +him and realized he had been trained well. + +His first reaction was unhappiness that he had killed one of the grubber +dogs. When he looked closer he realized this animal was slightly +different in markings, size and temper. Though most of its forequarters +were blown away, blood pumping out in dying spurts, it kept trying to +reach Jason. Before the eyes glazed with death it had struggled its way +almost to his feet. + +It wasn't quite a grubber dog, though chances were it was a wild +relative. Bearing the same relation as dog to wolf. He wondered if there +were any other resemblances between wolves and this dead beast. Did they +hunt in packs, too? + +As soon as the thought hit him he looked up--not a moment too soon. The +great forms were drifting through the trees, closing in on him. When he +shot two, the others snarled with rage and sank back into the forest. +They didn't leave. Instead of being frightened by the deaths they grew +even more enraged. + +Jason sat with his back to the tree and waited until they came close +before he picked them off. With each shot and dying scream the outraged +survivors howled the louder. Some of them fought when they met, venting +their rage. One stood on his hind legs and raked great strips of bark +from a tree. Jason aimed a shot at it, but he was too far away to hit. + +There were advantages to having a fever, he realized. Logically he knew +he would live only to sunset, or until his gun was empty. Yet the fact +didn't bother him greatly. Nothing really mattered. He slumped, relaxed +completely, only raising his arm to fire, then letting it drop again. +Every few minutes he had to move to look in back of the tree, and kill +any of them that were stalking him in the blind spot. He wished dimly +that he were leaning against a smaller tree, but it wasn't worth the +effort to go to one. + +Sometime in the afternoon he fired his last shot. It killed an animal he +had allowed to get close. He had noticed he was missing the longer +shots. The beast snarled and dropped, the others that were close pulled +back and howled in sympathy. One of them exposed himself and Jason +pulled the trigger. + +There was only a slight click. He tried again, in case it was just a +misfire, but there was still only the click. The gun was empty, as was +the spare clip pouch at his belt. There were vague memories of +reloading, though he couldn't remember how many times he had done it. + +This, then, was the end. They had all been right, Pyrrus was a match for +him. Though they shouldn't talk. It would kill them all in the end, too. +Pyrrans never died in bed. Old Pyrrans never died, they just got et. + +Now that he didn't have to force himself to stay alert and hold the gun, +the fever took hold. He wanted to sleep and he knew it would be a long +sleep. His eyes were almost closed as he watched the wary carnivores +slip closer to him. The first one crept close enough to spring, he could +see the muscles tensing in its leg. + +It leaped. Whirling in midair and falling before it reached him. Blood +ran from its gaping mouth and the short shaft of metal projected from +the side of his head. + +The two men walked out of the brush and looked down at him. Their mere +presence seemed to have been enough for the carnivores, because they all +vanished. + +Grubbers. He had been in such a hurry to reach the city that he had +forgotten about the grubbers. It was good that they were here and Jason +was very glad they had come. He couldn't talk very well, so he smiled to +thank them. But this hurt his lips too much so he went to sleep. + + + + +XXIV. + + +For a strange length of time after that, there were only hazy patches of +memory that impressed themselves on Jason. A sense of movement and large +beasts around him. Walls, wood-smoke, the murmur of voices. None of it +meant very much and he was too tired to care. It was easier and much +better just to let go. + + * * * * * + +"About time," Rhes said. "A couple more days lying there like that and +we would have buried you, even if you were still breathing." + +[Illustration] + +Jason blinked at him, trying to focus the face that swam above him. He +finally recognized Rhes, and wanted to answer him. But talking only +brought on a spell of body-wracking coughing. Someone held a cup to his +lips and sweet fluid trickled down his throat. He rested, then tried +again. + +"How long have I been here?" The voice was thin and sounded far away. +Jason had trouble recognizing it for his own. + +"Eight days. And why didn't you listen when I talked to you?" Rhes +said. + +"You should have stayed near the ship when you crashed. Didn't you +remember what I said about coming down anywhere on this continent? No +matter, too late to worry about that. Next time listen to what I say. +Our people moved fast and reached the site of the wreck before dark. +They found the broken trees and the spot where the ship had sunk, and at +first thought whoever had been in it had drowned. Then one of the dogs +found your trail, but lost it again in the swamps during the night. They +had a fine time with the mud and the snow and didn't have any luck at +all in finding the spoor again. By the next afternoon they were ready to +send for more help when they heard your firing. Just made it, from what +I hear. Lucky one of them was a talker and could tell the wild dogs to +clear out. Would have had to kill them all otherwise, and that's not +healthy." + +"Thanks for saving my neck," Jason said. "That was closer than I like to +come. What happened after? I was sure I was done for, I remember that +much. Diagnosed all the symptoms of pneumonia. Guaranteed fatal in my +condition without treatment. Looks like you were wrong when you said +most of your remedies were useless--they seemed to work well on me." + +His voice died off as Rhes shook his head in a slow _no_, lines of worry +sharp-cut into his face. Jason looked around and saw Naxa and another +man. They had the same deeply unhappy expressions as Rhes. + +"What is it?" Jason asked, feeling the trouble. "If your remedies didn't +work--what did? Not my medikit. That was empty. I remember losing it or +throwing it away." + +"You were dying," Rhes said slowly. "We couldn't cure you. Only a +junkman medicine machine could do that. We got one from the driver of +the food truck." + +"But how?" Jason asked, dazed. "You told me the city forbids you +medicine. He couldn't give you his own medikit. Not unless he was--" + +Rhes nodded and finished the sentence. "Dead. Of course he was dead. I +killed him myself, with a great deal of pleasure." + +This hit Jason hard. He sagged against the pillows and thought of all +those who had died since he had come to Pyrrus. The men who had died to +save him, died so he could live, died because of his ideas. It was a +burden of guilt that he couldn't bear to think about. Would it stop with +Krannon--or would the city people try to avenge his death? + +"Don't you realize what that means!" he gasped out the words. "Krannon's +death will turn the city against you. There'll be no more supplies. +They'll attack you when they can, kill your people--" + +"Of course we know that!" Rhes leaned forward, his voice hoarse and +intense. "It wasn't an easy decision to come to. We have always had a +trading agreement with the junkmen. The trading trucks were inviolate. +This was our last and only link to the galaxy outside and eventual hope +of contacting them." + +"Yet you broke that link to save me--why?" + +"Only you can answer that question completely. There was a great attack +on the city and we saw their walls broken, they had to be moved back at +one place. At the same time the spaceship was over the ocean, dropping +bombs of some kind--the flash was reported. Then the ship returned and +_you_ left it in a smaller ship. They fired at you but didn't kill you. +The little ship wasn't destroyed either, we are starting to raise it +now. What does it all mean? We had no way of telling. We only knew it +was something vitally important. You were alive, but would obviously die +before you could talk. The small ship might be repaired to fly, perhaps +that was your plan and that is why you stole it for us. We _couldn't_ +let you die, not even if it meant all-out war with the city. The +situation was explained to all of our people who could be reached by +screen and they voted to save you. I killed the junkman for his +medicine, then rode two doryms to death to get here in time. + +"Now tell us--what does it mean? What is your plan? How will it help +us?" + + * * * * * + +Guilt leaned on Jason and stifled his mouth. A fragment of an ancient +legend cut across his mind, about the jonah who wrecked the spacer so +all in it died, yet he lived. Was that he? Had he wrecked a world? Could +he dare admit to these people that he had taken the lifeboat only to +save his own life? + +The three Pyrrans leaned forward, waiting for his words. Jason closed +his eyes so he wouldn't see their faces. What could he tell them? If he +admitted the truth they would undoubtedly kill him on the spot, +considering it only justice. He wasn't fearful for his own life any +more, but if he died the other deaths would all have been in vain. And +there still was a way to end this planetary war. All the facts were +available now, it was just a matter of putting them together. If only he +wasn't so tired, he could see the solution. It was right there, lurking +around a corner in his brain, waiting to be dragged out. + +Whatever he did, he couldn't admit the truth now. If he died all hope +died. He had to lie to gain time, then find the true solution as soon as +he was able. That was all he could do. + +"You were right," Jason said haltingly. "The small ship has an +interstellar drive in it. Perhaps it can still be saved. Even if it +can't there is another way. I can't explain now, but I will tell you +when I am rested. Don't worry. The fight is almost over." + +They laughed and pounded each other on the back. When they came to shake +his hand as well, he closed his eyes and made believe he was asleep. It +is very hard to be a hypocrite if you aren't trained for it. + +Rhes woke him early the next morning. "Do you feel well enough to +travel?" he asked. + +"Depends what you mean by travel," Jason told him. "If you mean under my +own power, I doubt if I could get as far as that door." + +"You'll be carried," Rhes broke in. "We have a litter swung between two +doryms. Not too comfortable, but you'll get there. But only if you think +you are well enough to move. We called all the people within riding +distance and they are beginning to gather. By this afternoon we will +have enough men and doryms to pull the ship out of the swamp." + +"I'll come," Jason said, pushing himself to a sitting position. The +effort exhausted him, bringing a wave of nausea. Only by leaning his +full weight against the wall could he keep from falling back. He sat, +propped there, until he heard shouts and the stamping of heavy feet +outside, and they came to carry him out. + +The trip drained away his small store of energy, and he fell into an +exhausted sleep. When he opened his eyes the doryms were standing knee +deep in the swamp and the salvage operation had begun. Ropes vanished +out of sight in the water while lines of struggling animals and men +hauled at them. The beasts bellowed, the men cursed as they slipped and +fell. All of the Pyrrans tugging on the lines weren't male, women were +there as well. Shorter on the average than the men, they were just as +brawny. Their clothing was varied and many-colored, the first touch of +decoration Jason had seen on this planet. + +Getting the ship up was a heart-breaking job. The mud sucked at it and +underwater roots caught on the vanes. Divers plunged time and again into +the brown water to cut them free. Progress was incredibly slow, but the +work never stopped. Jason's brain was working even slower. The ship +would be hauled up eventually--what would he do then? He had to have a +new plan by that time, but thinking was impossible work. His thoughts +corkscrewed and he had to fight down the rising feeling of panic. + +The sun was low when the ship's nose finally appeared above the water. A +ragged cheer broke out at first sight of that battered cone of metal and +they went ahead with new energy. + +Jason was the first one who noticed the dorym weaving towards them. The +dogs saw it, of course, and ran out and sniffed. The rider shouted to +the dogs and kicked angrily at the sides of his mount. Even at this +distance Jason could see the beast's heaving sides and yellow +foam-flecked hide. It was barely able to stagger now and the man jumped +down, running ahead on foot. He was shouting something as he ran that +couldn't be heard above the noise. + +There was a single moment when the sounds slacked a bit and the running +man's voice could be heard. He was calling the same word over and over +again. It sounded like _wait_, but Jason couldn't be sure. Others had +heard him though, and the result was instantaneous. They stopped, +unmoving, where they were. Many of those holding the ropes let go of +them. Only the quick action of the anchor men kept the ship from sliding +back under, dragging the harnessed doryms with it. A wave of silence +washed across the swamp in the wake of the running man's shouts. They +could be heard clearly now. + +"_Quake! Quake on the way! South--only safe way is south!_" + +One by one the ropes dropped back into the water and the Pyrrans turned +to wade to solid land. Before they were well started Rhes' voice cracked +out. + +"Stay at work! Get the ship up, it's our only hope now. I'll talk to +Hananas, find out how much time we have." + +These solitary people were unused to orders. They stopped and milled +about, reason fighting with the urgent desire to run. One by one they +stepped back to the ropes as they worked out the sense of Rhes' words. +As soon as it was clear the work would continue he turned away. + +"What is it? What's happening?" Jason called to him as he ran by. + +"It's Hananas," Rhes said, stopping by the litter, waiting for the +newcomer to reach him. "He's a quakeman. They know when quakes are +coming, before they happen." + +Hananas ran up, panting and tired. He was a short man, built like a +barrel on stubby legs, a great white beard covering his neck and the top +of his chest. Another time Jason might have laughed at his incongruous +waddle, but not now. There was a charged difference in the air since the +little man had arrived. + +"Why didn't ... you have somebody near a plate? I called all over this +area without an answer. Finally ... had to come myself--" + +"How much time do we have?" Rhes cut in. "We have to get that ship up +before we pull out." + +"Time! Who knows about time!" the graybeard cursed. "Get out or you're +dead." + +"Calm down, Han," Rhes said in a quieter voice, taking the oldster's +arms in both his hands. "You know what we're doing here--and how much +depends on getting the ship up. Now how does it feel? This going to be a +fast one or a slow one?" + +"Fast. Faster than anything I felt in a long time. She's starting far +away though, if you had a plate here I bet Mach or someone else up near +the firelands would be reporting new eruptions. It's on the way and, if +we don't get out soon, we're not getting out t'all." + + * * * * * + +There was a burble of water as the ship was hauled out a bit farther. No +one talked now and there was a fierce urgency in their movements. Jason +still wasn't sure exactly what had happened. + +"Don't shoot me for a foreigner," he said, "but just what is wrong? Are +you expecting earthquakes here, are you sure?" + +"Sure!" Hananas screeched. "Of course I'm sure. If I wasn't sure I +wouldn't be a quakeman. It's on the way." + +"There's no doubt of that," Rhes added. "I don't know how you can tell +on your planet when quakes or vulcanism are going to start, machines +maybe. We have nothing like that. But quakemen, like Hananas here, +always know about them before they happen. If the word can be passed +fast enough, we get away. The quake is coming all right, the only thing +in doubt is how much time we have." + +The work went on and there was a good chance they would die long before +it was finished. All for nothing. The only way Jason could get them to +stop would be to admit the ship was useless. He would be killed then and +the grubber chances would die with him. He chewed his lip as the sun set +and the work continued by torchlight. + +Hananas paced around, grumbling under his breath, halting only to glance +at the northern horizon. The people felt his restlessness and +transmitted it to the animals. Dogfights broke out and the doryms pulled +reluctantly at their harnesses. With each passing second their chances +grew slimmer and Jason searched desperately for a way out of the trap of +his own constructing. + +"Look--" someone said, and they all turned. The sky to the north was lit +with a red light. There was a rumble in the ground that was felt more +than heard. The surface of the water blurred, then broke into patterns +of tiny waves. Jason turned away from the light, looking at the water +and the ship. It was higher now, the top of the stern exposed. There was +a gaping hole here, blasted through the metal by the spaceship's guns. + +"Rhes," he called, his words jammed together in the rush to get them +out. "Look at the ship, at the hole blasted in her stern. I landed on +the rockets and didn't know how badly she was hit. But the guns hit the +star drive!" + +Rhes gaped at him unbelievingly as he went on. Improvising, playing by +ear, trying to manufacture lies that rang of the truth. + +"I watched them install the drive--it's an auxiliary to the other +engines. It was bolted to the hull right there. It's gone now, blown up. +The boat will never leave this planet, much less go to another star." + +He couldn't look Rhes in the eyes after that. He sank back into the furs +that had been propped behind him, feeling the weakness even more. Rhes +was silent and Jason couldn't tell if his story had been believed. Only +when the Pyrran bent and slashed the nearest rope did he know he had +won. + +The word passed from man to man and the ropes were cut silently. Behind +them the ship they had labored so hard over, sank back into the water. +None of them watched. Each was locked in his own world of thought as +they formed up to leave. As soon as the doryms were saddled and packed +they started out, Hananas leading the way. Within minutes they were all +moving, a single file that vanished into the darkness. + +Jason's litter had to be left behind, it would have been smashed to +pieces in the night march. Rhes pulled him up into the saddle before +him, locking his body into place with a steel-hard arm. The trek +continued. + +When they left the swamp they changed directions sharply. A little later +Jason knew why, when the southern sky exploded. Flames lit the scene +brightly, ashes sifted down and hot lumps of rock crashed into the +trees. They steamed when they hit, and if it hadn't been for the earlier +rain they would have been faced with a forest fire as well. + +Something large loomed up next to the line of march, and when they +crossed an open space Jason looked at it in the reflected light from the +sky. + +"Rhes--" he choked, pointing. Rhes looked at the great beast moving next +to them, shaggy body and twisted horns as high as their shoulders, then +looked away. He wasn't frightened or apparently interested. Jason looked +around then and began to understand. + +All of the fleeing animals made no sound, that's why he hadn't noticed +them before. But on both sides dark forms ran between the trees. Some he +recognized, most of them he didn't. For a few minutes a pack of wild +dogs ran near them, even mingling with the domesticated dogs. No notice +was taken. Flying things flapped overhead. Under the greater threat of +the volcanoes all other battles were forgotten. Life respected life. A +herd of fat, piglike beasts with curling tusks, blundered through the +line. The doryms slowed, picking their steps carefully so they wouldn't +step on them. Smaller animals sometimes clung to the backs of the bigger +ones, riding untouched a while, before they leaped off. + +Pounded mercilessly by the saddle, Jason fell wearily into a light +sleep. It was shot through with dreams of the rushing animals, hurrying +on forever in silence. With his eyes open or shut he saw the same +endless stream of beasts. + +It all meant something, and he frowned as he tried to think what. +Animals running, Pyrran animals. + +He sat bolt upright suddenly, wide awake, staring down in comprehension. + +"What is it?" Rhes asked. + +"Go on," Jason said. "Get us out of this, and get us out safely. I told +you the lifeboat wasn't the only answer. I know how your people can get +what they want--end the war now. There _is_ a way, and I know how it can +be done." + + + + +XXV. + + +There were few coherent memories of the ride. Some things stood out +sharply like the spaceship-sized lump of burning scoria that had plunged +into a lake near them, showering the line with hot drops of water. But +mostly it was just a seemingly endless ride, with Jason still too weak +to care much about it. By dawn the danger area was behind them and the +march had slowed to a walk. The animals had vanished as the quake was +left behind, going their own ways, still in silent armistice. + +The peace of mutually shared danger was over, Jason found that out when +they stopped to rest and eat. He and Rhes went to sit on the soft grass, +near a fallen tree. A wild dog had arrived there first. It lay under the +log, muscles tensed, the ruddy morning light striking a red glint from +its eyes. Rhes faced it, not three meters away, without moving a muscle. +He made no attempt to reach one of his weapons or to call for help. +Jason stood still as well, hoping the Pyrran knew what he was doing. + +With no warning at all the dog sprang straight at them. Jason fell +backwards as Rhes pushed him aside. The Pyrran dropped at the same +time--only now his hand held the long knife, yanked from the sheath +strapped to his thigh. With unseen speed the knife came up, the dog +twisted in midair, trying to bite it. Instead it sank in behind the +dog's forelegs, the beast's own weight tearing a deadly gaping wound the +length of its body. It was still alive when it hit the ground, but Rhes +was astraddle it, pulling back the bony-plated head to cut the soft +throat underneath. + +The Pyrran carefully cleaned his knife on the dead animal's fur, then +returned it to the sheath. "They're usually no trouble," he said +quietly, "but it was excited. Probably lost the rest of the pack in the +quake." His actions were the direct opposite of the city Pyrrans. He had +not looked for trouble nor started the fight. Instead he had avoided it +as long as he could. But when the beast charged it had been neatly and +efficiently dispatched. Now, instead of gloating over his victory, he +seemed troubled over an unnecessary death. + +It made sense. Everything on Pyrrus made sense. Now he knew how the +deadly planetary battle had started--and he knew how it could be ended. +All the deaths had _not_ been in vain. Each one had helped him along the +road a little more towards the final destination. There was just one +final thing to be done. + +Rhes was watching him now, and he knew they shared the same thoughts. +"Explain yourself," Rhes said. "What did you mean when you said we could +wipe out the junkmen and get our freedom?" + +Jason didn't bother to correct the misquote, it was best they consider +him a hundred per cent on their side. + +"Get the others together and I'll tell you. I particularly want to see +Naxa and any other talkers who are here." + + * * * * * + +They gathered quickly when the word was passed. All of them knew that +the junkman had been killed to save this off-worlder, that their hope of +salvation lay with him. Jason looked at the crowd of faces turned +towards him and reached for the right words to tell them what had to be +done. It didn't help to know that many of them would be killed doing it. + +"The small star ship can't be used," he said. "You all saw that it was +ruined beyond repair. But that was the easy way out. The hard way is +still left. Though some of you may die, in the long run it will be the +best solution. + +"We are going to invade the city, break through the perimeter. I know +how it can be done ..." + +[Illustration] + +A mutter of sound spread across the crowd. Some of them looked excited, +happy with the thought of killing their hereditary enemies. Others +stared at Jason as if he were mad. A few were dazed at the magnitude of +the thought, this carrying of the battle to the stronghold of the +heavily armed enemy. They quieted when Jason raised his hand. + +"I know it sounds impossible," he said. "But let me explain. Something +must be done--and now is the time to do it. The situation can only get +worse from now on. The city Pyrr ... the junkmen can get along without +your food, their concentrates taste awful but they sustain life. But +they are going to turn against you in every way they can. No more metals +for your tools or replacements for your electronic equipment. Their +hatred will probably make them seek out your farms and destroy them from +the ship. All of this won't be comfortable--and there will be worse to +come. In the city they are losing their war against this planet. Each +year there are less of them, and some day they will all be dead. Knowing +how they feel I am sure they will destroy their ship first, and the +entire planet as well, if that is possible." + +"How can we stop them?" someone called out. + +"By hitting _now_," Jason answered. "I know all the details of the city +and I know how the defenses are set up. Their perimeter is designed to +protect them from animal life, but we could break through it if we were +really determined." + +"What good would that do?" Rhes snapped. "We crack the perimeter and +they draw back--then counter-attack in force. How can we stand against +their weapons?" + +"We won't have to. Their spaceport touches the perimeter, and I know the +exact spot where the ship stands. That is the place where we will break +through. There is no formal guard on the ship and only a few people in +the area. We will capture the ship. Whether we can fly it or not is +unimportant. Who controls the ship controls Pyrrus. Once there we +threaten to destroy it if they don't meet our terms. They have the +choice of mass suicide or co-operation. I hope they have the brains to +co-operate." + +His words shocked them into silence for an instant, then they surged +into a wave of sound. There was no agreement, just excitement, and Rhes +finally brought them to order. + +"Quiet!" he shouted. "Wait until Jason finishes before you decide. We +still haven't heard how this proposed invasion is to be accomplished." + +"The plan I have depends on the talkers." Jason said. "Is Naxa there?" +He waited until the fur-wrapped man had pushed to the front. "I want to +know more about the talkers, Naxa. I know you can speak to doryms and +the dogs here--but what about the wild animals? Can you make them do +what you want?" + +"They're animals ... course we can talk t'them. Th'more talkers, th'more +power. Make 'em do just what we want." + +"Then the attack will work," Jason said excitedly. "Could you get your +talkers all on one side of the city--the opposite side from the +spaceport--and stir the animals up? Make them attack the perimeter?" + +"Could we!" Naxa shouted, carried away by the idea. "We'd bring in +animals from all over, start th'biggest attack they ev'r saw!" + +"Then that's it. Your talkers will launch the attack on the far side of +the perimeter. If you keep out of sight, the guards will have no idea +that it is anything more than an animal attack. I've seen how they work. +As an attack mounts they call for reserves inside the city and drain men +away from the other parts of the perimeter. At the height of the battle, +when they have all their forces committed across the city, I'll lead the +attack that will break through and capture the ship. That's the plan and +it's going to work." + +Jason sat down then, half fell down, drained of strength. He lay and +listened as the debate went back and forth, Rhes ordering it and keeping +it going. Difficulties were raised and eliminated. No one could find a +basic fault with the plan. There were plenty of flaws in it, things that +might go wrong, but Jason didn't mention them. These people wanted his +idea to work and they were going to make it work. + +It finally broke up and they moved away. Rhes came over to Jason. + +"The basics are settled," he said. "All here are in agreement. They are +spreading the word by messenger to all the talkers. The talkers are the +heart of the attack, and the more we have, the better it will go off. We +don't dare use the screens to call them, there is a good chance that the +junkmen can intercept our messages. It will take five days before we are +ready to go ahead." + +"I'll need all of that time if I'm to be any good," Jason said. "Now +let's get some rest." + + + + +XXVI. + + +"It's a strange feeling," Jason said. "I've never really seen the +perimeter from this side before. Ugly is about the only word for it." + +He lay on his stomach next to Rhes, looking through a screen of leaves, +downhill towards the perimeter. They were both wrapped in heavy furs, in +spite of the midday heat, with thick leggings and leather gauntlets to +protect their hands. The gravity and the heat were already making Jason +dizzy, but he forced himself to ignore this. + +Ahead, on the far side of a burnt corridor, stood the perimeter. A high +wall, of varying height and texture, seemingly made of everything in the +world. It was impossible to tell what it had originally been constructed +of. Generations of attackers had bruised, broken, and undermined it. +Repairs had been quickly made, patches thrust roughly into place and +fixed there. Crude masonry crumbled and gave way to a rat's nest of +woven timbers. This overlapped a length of pitted metal, large plates +riveted together. Even this metal had been eaten through and bursting +sandbags spilled out of a jagged hole. Over the surface of the wall +detector wires and charged cables looped and hung. At odd intervals +automatic flame-throwers thrust their nozzles over the wall above and +swept the base of the wall clear of any life that might have come close. + +"Those flame things can cause us trouble," Rhes said. "That one covers +the area where you want to break in." + +"It'll be no problem," Jason assured him. "It may look like it is firing +a random pattern, but it's really not. It varies a simple sweep just +enough to fool an animal, but was never meant to keep men out. Look for +yourself. It fires at regularly repeated two, four, three and one minute +intervals." + +They crawled back to the hollow where Naxa and the others waited for +them. There were only thirty men in the party. What they had to do could +only be done with a fast, light force. Their strongest weapon was +surprise. Once that was gone their other weapons wouldn't hold out for +seconds against the city guns. Everyone looked uncomfortable in the fur +and leather wrappings, and some of the men had loosened them to cool +off. + +"Wrap up," Jason ordered. "None of you have been this close to the +perimeter before and you don't understand how deadly it is here. Naxa is +keeping the larger animals away and you all can handle the smaller +ones. That isn't the danger. Every thorn is poisoned, and even the +blades of grass carry a deadly sting. Watch out for insects of any kind +and once we start moving breathe only through the wet cloths." + +"He's right," Naxa snorted. "N'ver been closer'n this m'self. Death, +death up by that wall. Do like 'e says." + + * * * * * + +They could only wait then, honing down already needle-sharp crossbow +bolts, and glancing up at the slowly moving sun. Only Naxa didn't share +the unrest. He sat, eyes unfocused, feeling the movement of animal life +in the jungle around them. + +"On the way," he said. "Biggest thing I 'ver heard. Not a beast 'tween +here and the mountains, ain't howlin' 'is lungs out, runnin' towards the +city." + +Jason was aware of part of it. A tension in the air and a wave of +intensified anger and hatred. It would work, he knew, if they could only +keep the attack confined to a small area. The talkers had seemed sure of +it. They had stalked out quietly that morning, a thin line of ragged +men, moving out in a mental sweep that would round up the Pyrran life +and send it charging against the city. + +"They hit!" Naxa said suddenly. + +The men were on their feet now, staring in the direction of the city. +Jason had felt the twist as the attack had been driven home, and knew +that this was it. There was the sound of shots and a heavy booming far +away. Thin streamers of smoke began to blow above the treetops. + +"Let's get into position," Rhes said. + +Around them the jungle howled with an echo of hatred. The half-sentient +plants writhed and the air was thick with small flying things. Naxa +sweated and mumbled as he turned back the animals that crashed towards +them. By the time they reached the last screen of foliage before the +burned-out area, they had lost four men. One had been stung by an +insect, Jason got the medikit to him in time, but he was so sick he had +to turn back. The other three were bitten or scratched and treatment +came too late. Their swollen, twisted bodies were left behind on the +trail. + +"Dam' beasts hurt m'head," Naxa muttered. "When we go in?" + +"Not yet," Rhes said. "We wait for the signal." + +One of the men carried the radio. He sat it down carefully, then threw +the aerial over a branch. The set was shielded so no radiation leaked +out to give them away. It was turned on, but only a hiss of atmospheric +static came from the speaker. + +"We could have timed it--" Rhes said. + +"No we couldn't," Jason told him. "Not accurately. We want to hit that +wall at the height of the attack, when our chances are best. Even if +they hear the message it won't mean a thing to them inside. And a few +minutes later it won't matter." + +The sound from the speaker changed. A voice spoke a short sentence, then +cut off. + +"_Bring me three barrels of flour._" + +"Let's go," Rhes urged as he started forward. + +"Wait," Jason said, taking him by the arm. "I'm timing the +flame-thrower. It's due in ... _there_!" A blast of fire sprayed the +ground, then turned off. "We have four minutes to the next one--we hit +the long period!" + + * * * * * + +They ran, stumbling in the soft ashes, tripping over charred bones and +rusted metal. Two men grabbed Jason under the arm and half-carried him +across the ground. It hadn't been planned that way, but it saved +precious seconds. They dropped him against the wall and he fumbled out +the bombs he had made. The charges from Krannon's gun, taken when he was +killed, had been hooked together with a firing circuit. All the moves +had been rehearsed carefully and they went smoothly now. + +Jason had picked the metal wall as being the best spot to break in. It +offered the most resistance to the native life, so the chances were it +wouldn't be reinforced with sandbags or fill, the way other parts of the +wall were. If he was wrong, they were all dead. + +The first men had slapped their wads of sticky congealed sap against the +wall. Jason pressed the charges into them and they stuck, a roughly +rectangular pattern as high as a man. While he did this the detonating +wire was run out to its length and the raiders pressed back against the +base of the wall. Jason stumbled through the ashes to the detonator, +fell on it and pressed the switch at the same time. + +Behind him a thundering bang shook the wall and red flame burst out. +Rhes was the first one there, pulling at the twisted and smoking metal +with his gloved hands. Others grabbed on and bent the jagged pieces +aside. The hole was filled with smoke and nothing was visible through +it. Jason dived into the opening, rolled on a heap of rubble and smacked +into something solid. When he blinked the smoke from his eyes he looked +around him. + +He was inside the city. + +The others poured through now, picking him up as they charged in so he +wouldn't be trampled underfoot. Someone spotted the spaceship and they +ran that way. + +A man ran around the corner of a building towards them. His Pyrran +reflexes sent him springing into the safety of a doorway the same moment +he saw the invaders. But they were Pyrrans, too. The man slumped slowly +back onto the street, three metal bolts sticking out of his body. They +ran on without stopping, running between the low storehouses. The ship +stood ahead. + +Someone had reached it ahead of them, they could see the outer hatch +slowly grinding shut. A hail of bolts from the bows crashed into it with +no effect. + +"Keep going!" Jason shouted. "Get next to the hull before he reaches the +guns." + +This time three men didn't make it. The rest of them were under the +belly of the ship when every gun let go at once. Most of them were +aimed away from the ship, still the scream of shells and electric +discharges was ear-shattering. The three men still in the open dissolved +under the fire. Whoever was inside the ship had hit all the gun trips at +once, both to knock out the attackers and summon aid. He would be on the +screen now, calling for help. Their time was running out. + +Jason reached up and tried to open the hatch, while the others watched. +It was locked from the inside. One of the men brushed him aside and +pulled at the inset handle. It broke off in his hand but the hatch +remained closed. + +The big guns had stopped now and they could hear again. + +"Did anyone get the gun from that dead man?" he asked. "It would blow +this thing open." + +"No," Rhes said, "we didn't stop." + +Before the words were out of his mouth two men were running back towards +the buildings, angling away from each other. The ship's guns roared +again, a string of explosions cut across one man. Before they could +change direction and find the other man he had reached the buildings. + +He returned quickly, darting into the open to throw the gun to them. +Before he could dive back to safety the shells caught him. + + * * * * * + +Jason grabbed up the gun as it skidded almost to his feet. They heard +the sound of wide-open truck turbines screaming towards them as he +blasted the lock. The mechanism sighed and the hatch sagged open. They +were all through the air lock before the first truck appeared. Naxa +stayed behind with the gun, to hold the lock until they could take the +control room. + +Everyone climbed faster than Jason, once he had pointed them the way, so +the battle was over when he got there. The single city Pyrran looked +like a pin-cushion. One of the techs had found the gun controls and was +shooting wildly, the sheer quantity of his fire driving the trucks back. + +"Someone get on the radio and tell the talkers to call the attack off," +Jason said. He found the communications screen and snapped it on. Kerk's +wide-eyed face stared at him from the screen. + +"_You!_" Kerk said, breathing the word like a curse. + +"Yes, it's me," Jason answered. He talked without looking up, while his +hands were busy at the control board. "Listen to me, Kerk--and don't +doubt anything I say. I may not know how to fly one of these ships, but +I do know how to blow them up. Do you hear that sound?" He flipped over +a switch and the faraway whine of a pump droned faintly. "That's the +main fuel pump. If I let it run--which I won't right now--it could +quickly fill the drive chamber with raw fuel. Pour in so much that it +would run out of the stern tubes. Then what do you think would happen to +your one and only spacer if I pressed the firing button? I'm not asking +you what would happen to me, since you don't care--but you need this +ship the way you need life itself." + +There was only silence in the cabin now, the men who had won the ship +turned to face him. Kerk's voice grated loudly through the room. + +"What do you want, Jason--what are you trying to do? Why did you lead +those animals in here ..." His voice cracked and broke as anger choked +him and spilled over. + +"Watch your tongue, Kerk," Jason said with soft menace. "These _men_ you +are talking about are the only ones on Pyrrus who have a spaceship. If +you want them to share it with you, you had better learn to talk nicely. +Now come over here at once--and bring Brucco and Meta." Jason looked at +the older man's florid and swollen face and felt a measure of sympathy. +"Don't look so unhappy, it's not the end of the world. In fact, it might +be the beginning of one. And another thing, leave this channel open when +you go. Have it hooked into every screen in the city so everyone can see +what happens here. Make sure it's taped too, for replay." + +Kerk started to say something, but changed his mind before he did. He +left the screen, but the set stayed alive. Carrying the scene in the +control room to the entire city. + + + + +XXVII. + + +The fight was over. It had ended so quickly the fact hadn't really sunk +in yet. Rhes rubbed his hand against the gleaming metal of the control +console, letting the reality of touch convince him. The other men milled +about, looking out through the viewscreens or soaking in the mechanical +strangeness of the room. + +Jason was physically exhausted, but he couldn't let it show. He opened +the pilot's medbox and dug through it until he found the stimulants. +Three of the little gold pills washed the fatigue from his body, and he +could think clearly again. + +"Listen to me," he shouted. "The fight's not over yet. They'll try +anything to take this ship back and we have to be ready. I want one of +the techs to go over these boards until he finds the lock controls. Make +sure all the air locks and ports are sealed. Send men to check them if +necessary. Turn on all the screens to scan in every direction, so no one +can get near the ship. We'll need a guard in the engine room, my control +could be cut if they broke in there. And there had better be a +room-by-room search of the ship, in case someone else is locked in with +us." + +The men had something to do now and felt relieved. Rhes split them up +into groups and set them to work. Jason stayed at the controls, his hand +next to the pump switch. The battle wasn't over yet. + +"There's a truck coming," Rhes called, "going slow." + +"Should I blast it?" the man at the gun controls asked. + +"Hold your fire," Jason said, "until we can see who it is. If it's the +people I sent for, let them through." + +As the truck came on slowly, the gunner tracked it with his sights. +There was a driver and three passengers. Jason waited until he was +positive who they were. + +"Those are the ones," he said. "Stop them at the lock, Rhes, make them +come in one at a time. Take their guns as they enter, then strip them of +_all_ their equipment. There is no way of telling what could be a +concealed weapon. Be specially careful of Brucco--he's the thin one with +a face like an ax edge--make sure you strip him clean. He's a specialist +in weapons and survival. And bring the driver too, we don't want him +reporting back about the broken air lock or the state of our guns." + +Waiting was hard. His hand stayed next to the pump switch, even though +he knew he could never use it. Just as long as the others thought he +would. + + * * * * * + +There were stampings and muttered curses in the corridor; the prisoners +were pushed in. Jason had one look at their deadly expressions and +clenched fists before he called to Rhes. + +"Keep them against the wall and watch them. Bowmen keep your weapons +up." He looked at the people who had once been his friends and who now +swam in hatred for him. Meta, Kerk, Brucco. The driver was Skop, the man +Kerk had once appointed to guard him. He looked ready to explode now +that the roles had been reversed. + +"Pay close attention," Jason said, "because your lives depend upon it. +Keep your backs to the wall and don't attempt to come any closer to me +than you are now. If you do, you will be shot instantly. If we were +alone, any one of you could undoubtedly reach me before I threw this +switch. But we're not. You have Pyrran reflexes and muscles--but so do +the bowmen. Don't gamble. Because it won't be a gamble. It will be +suicide. I'm telling you this for your own protection. So we can talk +peacefully without one of you losing his temper and suddenly getting +shot. _There is no way out of this._ You are going to be forced to +listen to everything I say. You can't escape or kill me. The war is +over." + +"And we lost--and all because of you ... you _traitor_!" Meta snarled. + +"Wrong on both counts," Jason said blandly. "I'm not a traitor because I +owe my allegiance to all men on this planet, both inside the perimeter +and out. I never pretended differently. As to losing--why you haven't +lost anything. In fact you've won. Won your war against this planet, if +you will only hear me out." He turned to Rhes, who was frowning in angry +puzzlement. "Of course your people have won also, Rhes. No more war with +the city, you'll get medicine, off-planet contact--everything you want." + +"Pardon me for being cynical," Rhes said, "but you're promising the best +of all possible worlds for everyone. That will be a little hard to +deliver when our interests are opposed so." + +"You strike through to the heart of the matter," Jason said. "Thank you. +This mess will be settled by seeing that everyone's interests are not +opposed. Peace between the city and farms, with an end to the useless +war you have been fighting. Peace between mankind and the Pyrran life +forms--because that particular war is at the bottom of all your +troubles." + +"The man's mad," Kerk said. + +"Perhaps. You'll judge that after you hear me out. I'm going to tell you +the history of this planet, because that is where both the trouble and +the solution lie. + +"When the settlers landed on Pyrrus three hundred years ago they missed +the one important thing about this planet, the factor that makes it +different from any other planet in the galaxy. They can't be blamed for +the oversight, they had enough other things to worry about. The gravity +was about the only thing familiar to them, the rest of the environment +was a shocking change from the climate-controlled industrial world they +had left. Storms, vulcanism, floods, earthquakes--it was enough to drive +them insane, and I'm sure many of them did go mad. The animal and insect +life was a constant annoyance, nothing at all like the few harmless and +protected species they had known. I'm sure they never realized that the +Pyrran life was telepathic as well--" + +"That again!" Brucco snapped. "True or not, it is of no importance. I +was tempted to agree with your theory of psionic-controlled attack on +us, but the deadly fiasco you staged proved that theory wrong." + +"I agree," Jason answered. "I was completely mistaken when I thought +some outside agency directed the attack on the city with psionic +control. It seemed a logical theory at the time and the evidence pointed +that way. The expedition to the island _was_ a deadly fiasco--only don't +forget that attack was the direct opposite of what I wanted to have +done. If I had gone into the cave myself none of the deaths would have +been necessary. I think it would have been discovered that the plant +creatures were nothing more than an advanced life form with unusual psi +ability. They simply resonated strongly to the psionic attack on the +city. I had the idea backwards thinking they instigated the battle. +We'll never know the truth, though, because they are destroyed. But +their deaths did prove one thing. It allows us to find the real +culprits, the creatures who are leading, directing and inspiring the war +against the city." + +"_Who?_" Kerk breathed the question, rather than spoke it. + +"Why _you_ of course," Jason told him. "Not you alone, but all of your +people in the city. Perhaps you don't like this war. However you are +responsible for it, and keep it going." + +Jason had to force back a smile as he looked at their dumfounded +expressions. He had to prove his point quickly, before even his allies +began to think him insane. + + * * * * * + +"Here is how it works. I said Pyrran life was telepathic--and I meant +all life. Every single insect, plant and animal. At one time in this +planet's violent history these psionic mutations proved to be survival +types. They existed when other species died, and in the end I'm sure +they co-operated in wiping out the last survivors of the non-psi +strains. Co-operation is the key word here. Because while they still +competed against each other under normal conditions, they worked +together against anything that threatened them as a whole. When a +natural upheaval or a tidal wave threatened them, they fled from it in +harmony. + +[Illustration] + +"You can see a milder form of this same behavior on any planet that is +subject to forest fires. But here, mutual survival was carried to an +extreme because of the violent conditions. Perhaps some of the life +forms even developed precognition like the human quakemen. With this +advance warning the larger beasts fled. The smaller ones developed +seeds, or burrs or eggs, that could be carried to safety by the wind or +in the animals' fur, thus insuring racial survival. I know this is true, +because I watched it myself when we were escaping a quake." + +"Admitted--all your points admitted," Brucco shouted. "But what does it +have to do with _us_? So all the animals run away together, what does +that have to do with the war?" + +"They do more than run away together," Jason told him. "They work +together against any natural disaster that threatens them all. Some day +I'm sure, ecologists will go into raptures over the complex adjustments +that occur here in the advent of blizzards, floods, fires and other +disasters. There is only one reaction we really care about now, though. +That's the one directed towards the city people. Don't you realize +yet--they treat you all as another natural disaster! + +"We'll never know exactly how it came about, though there is a clue in +that diary I found, dating from the first days on this planet. It said +that a forest fire seemed to have driven new species towards the +settlers. Those weren't new beasts at all--just old ones with new +attitudes. Can't you just imagine how those protected, over-civilized +settlers acted when faced with a forest fire? They panicked of course. +If the settlers were in the path of the fire, the animals must have +rushed right through their camp. Their reaction would undoubtedly have +been to shoot the fleeing creatures down. + +"When they did that they classified themselves as a natural disaster. +Disasters take any form. Bipeds with guns could easily be included in +the category. The Pyrran animals attacked, were shot, and the war began. +The survivors kept attacking and informed all the life forms what the +fight was about. The radioactivity of this planet must cause plenty of +mutations--and the favorable, survival mutation was now one that was +deadly to man. I'll hazard a guess that the psi function even instigates +mutations, some of the deadlier types are just too one-sided to have +come about naturally in a brief three hundred years. + +"The settlers, of course, fought back, and kept their status as a +natural disaster intact. Through the centuries they improved their +killing methods, not that it did the slightest good, as you know. You +city people, their descendants, are heirs to this heritage of hatred. +You fight and are slowly being defeated. How can you possibly win +against the biologic reserves of a planet that can recreate itself each +time to meet any new attack?" + + * * * * * + +Silence followed Jason's words. Kerk and Meta stood white-faced as the +impact of the disclosure sunk in. Brucco mumbled and checked points off +on his fingers, searching for weak spots in the chain of reason. The +fourth city Pyrran, Skop, ignored all these foolish words that he +couldn't understand--or want to understand--and would have killed Jason +in an instant if there had been the slightest chance of success. + +It was Rhes who broke the silence. His quick mind had taken in the +factors and sorted them out. "There's one thing wrong," he said. "What +about us? We live on the surface of Pyrrus without perimeters or guns. +Why aren't we attacked as well? We're human, descended from the same +people as the junkmen." + +"You're not attacked," Jason told him, "because you don't identify +yourself as a natural disaster. Animals can live on the slopes of a +dormant volcano, fighting and dying in natural competition. But they'll +flee together when the volcano erupts. That eruption is what makes the +mountain a natural disaster. In the case of human beings, it is their +thoughts that identify them as life form or disaster. Mountain or +volcano. In the city everyone radiates suspicion and death. They enjoy +killing, thinking about killing, and planning for killing. This is +natural selection, too, you realize. These are the survival traits that +work best in the city. Outside the city men think differently. If they +are threatened individually, they fight, as will any other creature. +Under more general survival threats they co-operate completely with the +rules for universal survival that the city people break." + +"How did it begin--this separation, I mean, between the two groups?" +Rhes asked. + +"We'll probably never know," Jason said. "I think your people must have +originally been farmers, or psionic sensitives who were not with the +others during some natural disaster. They would, of course, act +correctly by Pyrran standards, and survive. This would cause a +difference of opinion with the city people who saw killing as the +answer. It's obvious, whatever the reason, that two separate communities +were established early, and soon separated except for the limited amount +of barter that benefited both." + +"I still can't believe it," Kerk mumbled. "It makes a terrible kind of +truth, every step of the way, but I still find it hard to accept. There +_must_ be another explanation." + +Jason shook his head slowly. "None. This is the only one that works. +We've eliminated the other ones, remember? I can't blame you for finding +it hard to believe, since it is in direct opposition to everything +you've understood to be true in the past. It's like altering a natural +law. As if I gave you proof that gravity didn't really exist, that it +was a force altogether different from the immutable one we know, one you +could get around when you understood how. You'd want more proof than +words. Probably want to see someone walking on air." + +"Which isn't such a bad idea at that," he added, turning to Naxa. "Do +you hear any animals around the ship now? Not the ones you're used to, +but the mutated, violent kind that live only to attack the city." + +"Place's crawling with 'em," Naxa said, "just lookin' for somethin' +t'kill." + +"Could you capture one?" Jason asked. "Without getting yourself killed, +I mean." + +Naxa snorted contempt as he turned to leave. "Beast's not born yet, +that'll hurt me." + +They stood quietly, each one wrapped tightly around by his own thoughts, +while they waited for Naxa to return. Jason had nothing more to say. He +would do one more thing to try and convince them of the facts, after +that it would be up to each of them to reach a conclusion. + + * * * * * + +The talker returned quickly with a stingwing, tied by one leg to a +length of leather. It flapped and shrieked as he carried it in. + +"In the middle of the room, away from everybody," Jason told him. "Can +you get that beast to sit on something and not flap around?" + +"My hand good enough?" he asked, flipping the creature up so it clung to +the back of his gauntlet. "That's how I caught it." + +"Does anyone doubt that this is a real stingwing?" Jason asked. "I want +to make sure you all believe there is no trickery here." + +"The thing is real," Brucco said. "I can smell the poison in the +wing-claws from here." He pointed to the dark marks on the leather where +the liquid had dripped. "If that eats through the gloves, he's a dead +man." + +"Then we agree it's real," Jason said. "Real and deadly, and the only +test of the theory will be if you people from the city can approach it +like Naxa here." + +They drew back automatically when he said it. Because they knew that +stingwing was synonymous with death. Past, present and future. You don't +change a natural law. Meta spoke for all of them. + +"We ... can't. This man lives in the jungle, like an animal himself. +Somehow he's learned to get near them. But you can't expect us to." + +Jason spoke quickly, before the talker could react to the insult. "Of +course I expect you to. That's the whole idea. If you don't hate the +beast and expect it to attack you--why it won't. Think of it as a +creature from a different planet, something harmless." + +"I can't," she said. "It's a _stingwing_!" + +As they talked Brucco stepped forward, his eyes fixed steadily on the +creature perched on the glove. Jason signaled the bowmen to hold their +fire. Brucco stopped at a safe distance and kept looking steadily at the +stingwing. It rustled its leathery wings uneasily and hissed. A drop of +poison formed at the tip of each great poison claw on its wings. The +control room was filled with a deadly silence. + +Slowly he raised his hand. Carefully putting it out, over the animal. +The hand dropped a little, rubbed the stingwing's head once, then fell +back to his side. The animal did nothing except stir slightly under the +touch. + +There was a concerted sigh, as those who had been unknowingly holding +their breath breathed again. + +"How did you do it?" Meta asked in a hushed voice. + +"Hm-m-m, what?" Brucco said, apparently snapping out of a daze. "Oh, +touching the thing. Simple, really. I just pretended it was one of the +training aids I use, a realistic and harmless duplicate. I kept my mind +on that single thought and it worked." He looked down at his hand, then +back to the stingwing. His voice quieter now, as if he spoke from a +distance. "It's not a training aid you know. It's real. Deadly. The +off-worlder is right. He's right about everything he said." + +With Brucco's success as an example, Kerk came close to the animal. He +walked stiffly, as if on the way to his execution, and runnels of sweat +poured down his rigid face. But he believed and kept his thoughts +directed away from the stingwing and he could touch it unharmed. + +Meta tried but couldn't fight down the horror it raised when she came +close. "I am trying," she said, "and I do believe you now--but I just +can't do it." + +Skop screamed when they all looked at him, shouted it was all a trick, +and had to be clubbed unconscious when he attacked the bowmen. + +Understanding had come to Pyrrus. + + + + +XXVIII. + + +"What do we do now?" Meta asked. Her voice was troubled, questioning. +She voiced the thoughts of all the Pyrrans in the room, and the +thousands who watched in their screens. + +"What will we do?" They turned to Jason, waiting for an answer. For the +moment their differences were forgotten. The people from the city were +staring expectantly at him, as were the crossbowmen with half-lowered +weapons. This stranger had confused and changed the old world they had +known, and presented them with a newer and stranger one, with alien +problems. + +"Hold on," he said, raising his hand. "I'm no doctor of social ills. I'm +not going to try and cure this planet full of muscle-bound +sharpshooters. I've just squeezed through up to now, and by the law of +averages I should be ten times dead." + +"Even if all you say is true, Jason," Meta said, "you are still the only +person who can help us. What will the future be like?" + +Suddenly weary, Jason slumped into the pilot's chair. He glanced around +at the circle of people. They seemed sincere. None of them even appeared +to have noticed that he no longer had his hand on the pump switch. For +the moment at least, the war between city and farm was forgotten. + +"I'll give you my conclusions," Jason said, twisting in the chair, +trying to find a comfortable position for his aching bones. "I've been +doing a lot of thinking the last day or two, searching for the answer. +The very first thing I realized, was that the perfect and logical +solution wouldn't do at all. I'm afraid the old ideal of the lion lying +down with the lamb doesn't work out in practice. About all it does is +make a fast lunch for the lion. Ideally, now that you all know the real +causes of your trouble, you should tear down the perimeter and have the +city and forest people mingle in brotherly love. Makes just as pretty a +picture as the one of lion and lamb. And would undoubtedly have the same +result. Someone would remember how really filthy the grubbers are, or +how stupid junkmen can be, and there would be a fresh corpse cooling. +The fight would spread and the victors would be eaten by the wildlife +that swarmed over the undefended perimeter. No, the answer isn't that +easy." + +As the Pyrrans listened to him they realized where they were, and +glanced around uneasily. The guards raised their crossbows again, and +the prisoners stepped back to the wall and looked surly. + +"See what I mean?" Jason asked. "Didn't take long did it?" They all +looked a little sheepish at their unthinking reactions. + +"If we're going to find a decent plan for the future, we'll have to +take inertia into consideration. Mental inertia for one. Just because +you know a thing is true in theory, doesn't make it true in fact. The +barbaric religions of primitive worlds hold not a germ of scientific +fact, though they claim to explain all. Yet if one of these savages has +all the logical ground for his beliefs taken away--he doesn't stop +believing. He then calls his mistaken beliefs 'faith' because he knows +they are right. And he knows they are right because he has faith. This +is an unbreakable circle of false logic that can't be touched. In +reality, it is plain mental inertia. A case of thinking 'what always +was' will also 'always be.' And not wanting to blast the thinking +patterns out of the old rut. + +"Mental inertia alone is not going to cause trouble--there is cultural +inertia, too. Some of you in this room believe my conclusions and would +like to change. But will all your people change? The unthinking ones, +the habit-ridden, reflex-formed people who _know_ what is now, will +always be. They'll act like a drag on whatever plans you make, whatever +attempts you undertake to progress with the new knowledge you have." + +"Then it's useless--there's no hope for our world?" Rhes asked. + + * * * * * + +"I didn't say that," Jason answered. "I merely mean that your troubles +won't end by throwing some kind of mental switch. I see three courses +open for the future, and the chances are that all three will be going on +at the same time. + +"First--and best--will be the rejoining of city and farm Pyrrans into +the single human group they came from. Each is incomplete now, and has +something the other one needs. In the city here you have science and +contact with the rest of the galaxy. You also have a deadly war. Out +there in the jungle, your first cousins live at peace with the world, +but lack medicine and the other benefits of scientific knowledge, as +well as any kind of cultural contact with the rest of mankind. You'll +both have to join together and benefit from the exchange. At the same +time you'll have to forget the superstitious hatred you have of each +other. This will only be done outside of the city, away from the war. +Every one of you who is capable should go out voluntarily, bringing some +fraction of the knowledge that needs sharing. You won't be harmed if you +go in good faith. And you will learn how to live _with_ this planet, +rather than against it. Eventually you'll have civilized communities +that won't be either 'grubber' or 'junkman.' They'll be Pyrran." + +"But what about our city here?" Kerk asked. + +"It'll stay right here--and probably won't change in the slightest. In +the beginning you'll need your perimeter and defenses to stay alive, +while the people are leaving. And after that it will keep going because +there are going to be any number of people here who you won't convince. +They'll stay and fight and eventually die. Perhaps you will be able to +do a better job in educating their children. What the eventual end of +the city will be, I have no idea." + +They were silent as they thought about the future. On the floor Skop +groaned but did not move. "Those are two ways," Meta said. "What is the +third?" + +"The third possibility is my own pet scheme," Jason smiled. "And I hope +I can find enough people to go along with me. I'm going to take my money +and spend it all on outfitting the best and most modern spacer, with +every weapon and piece of scientific equipment I can get my hands on. +Then I'm going to ask for Pyrran volunteers to go with me." + +"What in the world for?" Meta frowned. + +"Not for charity, I expect to make my investment back, and more. You +see, after these past few months, I can't possibly return to my old +occupation. Not only do I have enough money now to make it a waste of +time, but I think it would be an unending bore. One thing about +Pyrrus--if you live--is that it spoils you for the quieter places. So +I'd like to take this ship that I mentioned and go into the business of +opening up new worlds. There are thousands of planets where men would +like to settle, only getting a foothold on them is too rough or rugged +for the usual settlers. Can you imagine a planet a Pyrran couldn't lick +after the training you've had here? And enjoy doing it? + +"There would be more than pleasure involved, though. In the city your +lives have been geared for continual deadly warfare. Now you're faced +with the choice of a fairly peaceful future, or staying in the city to +fight an unnecessary and foolish war. I offer the third alternative of +the occupation you know best, that would let you accomplish something +constructive at the same time. + +"Those are the choices. Whatever you decide is up to each of you +personally." + + * * * * * + +Before anyone could answer, livid pain circled Jason's throat. Skop had +regained consciousness and surged up from the floor. He pulled Jason +from the chair with a single motion, holding him by the neck, throttling +him. + +"Kerk! Meta!" Skop shouted hoarsely. "Grab guns! Open the locks--our +people'll be here, kill the grubbers and their lies!" + +Jason tore at the fingers that were choking the life out of him, but it +was like pulling at bent steel bars. He couldn't talk and the blood +hammered in his ears. + +Meta hurtled forward like an uncoiled spring and the crossbows twanged. +One bolt caught her in the leg, the other transfixed her upper arm. But +she had been shot as she jumped and her inertia carried her across the +room, to her fellow Pyrran and the dying off-worlder. + +She raised her good arm and chopped down with the edge of her hand. + +It caught Skop a hard blow on the biceps and his arm jumped +spasmodically, his hand leaping from Jason's throat. + +"What are you doing?" he shouted in strange terror to the wounded girl +who fell against him. He pushed her away, still clutching Jason with his +other hand. She didn't answer. Instead she chopped again, hard and true, +the edge of her hand catching Skop across the windpipe, crushing it. He +dropped Jason and fell to the floor, retching and gasping. + +Jason watched the end through a haze, barely conscious. + +Skop struggled to his feet, turned pain-filled eyes to his friends. + +"You're wrong," Kerk said. "Don't do it." + +The sound the wounded man made was more animal than human. When he dived +towards the guns on the far side of the room the crossbows twanged like +harps of death. + +When Brucco went over to help Meta no one interfered. Jason gasped air +back into his lungs, breathing in life. The watching glass eye of the +viewer carried the scene to everyone in the city. + +"Thanks, Meta ... for understanding ... as well as helping." Jason had +to force the words out. + +"Skop was wrong and you were right, Jason," she said. Her voice broke +for a second as Brucco snapped off the feathered end of the steel bolt +with his fingers, and pulled the shaft out of her arm. "I can't stay in +the city, only people who feel as Skop did will be able to do that. And +I'm afraid I can't go into the forest--you saw what luck I had with the +stingwing. If it's all right I'd like to come with you. I'd like to very +much." + +It hurt when he talked so Jason could only smile, but she knew what he +meant. + +Kerk looked down in unhappiness at the body of the dead man. "He was +wrong--but I know how he felt. I can't leave the city, not yet. Someone +will have to keep things in hand while the changes are taking place. +Your ship is a good idea, Jason, you'll have no shortage of volunteers. +Though I doubt if you'll get Brucco to go with you." + +"Of course not," Brucco snapped, not looking up from the compression +bandage he was tying. "There's enough to do right here on Pyrrus. The +animal life, quite a study to be made, probably have every ecologist in +the galaxy visiting here." + +Kerk walked slowly to the screen overlooking the city. No one attempted +to stop him. He looked out at the buildings, the smoke still curling up +from the perimeter, and the limitless sweep of green jungle beyond. + +"You've changed it all, Jason," he said. "We can't see it now, but +Pyrrus will never be the way it was before you came. For better or +worse." + +"Better," Jason croaked, and rubbed his aching throat. "Now get together +and end this war so people will really believe it." + +Rhes turned and after an instant's hesitation, extended his hand to +Kerk. The gray-haired Pyrran felt the same repugnance himself about +touching a grubber. + +They shook hands then because they were both strong men. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_ January, + February and March 1960. 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. 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