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diff --git a/59516-0.txt b/59516-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5127540 --- /dev/null +++ b/59516-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,843 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59516 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + the scamperers + + BY CHARLES A. STEARNS + + _Wellesley was ordered to check on + deviants or mutants. But the evidence + was often subtle, and he knew he + couldn't afford to take a chance...._ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Worlds of If Science Fiction, June 1956. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +The Earthman, Wellesley, came to Ophir in the season of aphelion, when +the binary suns of that remote planet were cold serpent's eyes, dimly +seen above the chill mists that shrouded its fern forests and craggy, +young mountains, its silent oceans and magnificent organ pipe cities of +legend. + +From space one might look down upon the vista of these latter +prominences and imagine a vast, exotic civilization spread over the +face of the equinoctial swamps, but Wellesley knew that the giant +towers were mere calcareous shells, hollow as the expectations they +had inspired in the first planeteers to arrive here two hundred years +ago--they were the work, in fact, of small, mindless crustaceans. + +His own destination, a small, shabby, corporate plantation, was less +impressive in appearance. Its name was Aidennsport. It consisted of +a hundred buildings, including a commissary and a hulking communal +storehouse. The primordial jungle was all about it. + +To Wellesley, yellow-cheeked from too many years in space, cynical from +the paucity of human values in his life, Aidennsport was the despised +prototype of colonial stagnation about the galactic rim. For he was a +dour, lanky pessimist among that immense, invaluable, but nondescript +order of men, the Rift constabulary, whose beat is the emptiness +between the stars, and which enforces the name of law throughout the +vast reaches of the firmament beyond Sol's sprawling civilization. + +Wellesley's ship was accustomed to describe an elliptical orbit +which brought it near the system containing Ophir once every seventh +side-real month. It never stopped. Its course was as inexorable as a +comet's; nevertheless, he had lately received the commission of an +errand here for the omnipotent Department of Genetics and Genealogical +Records. + +And so he was forced to make landfall in a rocket tender in a meadow by +Aidennsport, while the ground quaked dangerously beneath the settling +blasts of the tiny vessel. He located the single course of the village +without difficulty. Half a dozen ragged children were playing there, +and stopped to stare. Women peered at his dark uniform from behind +curtains in the stained, milk-colored bungalows. Quaintly dressed men, +tending the auto-pickers in nearby fields of drug-plant, shaded their +eyes to gaze with silent menace, though there was no sun. + +He was able to find the house of the agent by the frayed company flag +flying over it. To the right of it was the warehouse where the annual +crop of senna-like leaves of the drug-plant were stored for drying. +This was Aidennsport's meagre industry. Beyond lay the swamp, and far +across its desolate surface, the multi-colored towers of the pipes +fingered the sky, aloof and sinister in aspect. + +A boy of no more than ten, dark eyed but with that startling, +burnished-gold complexion so often found in the systems of twin or +multiple suns, sat upon the steps before the cottage. He was playing +with a furry animal not unlike a Martian ferrax, which sprang up, +scarlet-eyed and bristling, at the sight of Wellesley. + +"Here, boy," said Wellesley, who neither liked nor trusted children. +"Is this the house of Amos Sealilly, the factor of Aidennsport?" + +"Sure. That's my pa. Say, are you a spaceman?" + +"Never mind that. Where is your father?" + +"In the warehouse," the boy said. "I'll show you how to get inside. My +name's Joseph, and I have a spaceship in the back yard. I call it the +_Stygia_, after the pirate ship of the twenty-eighth century. Do you +want to see my crew?" + +"Later, perhaps," said Wellesley dryly. "Come along, now." + +They found tall, aluminum doors which slid back at the wave of a hand, +and entered into a vastness of cool gloom, permeated by a spicelike +odor of curing leaves. + +A figure emerged from the drying racks at the other end of the +warehouse. + +"_Is that you, Joseph?_" + +"That's pa," Joseph said. + +"Damn you, Joseph!" + +"I guess he's drunk," Joseph said. + +Wellesley advanced. "I am Lieutenant Wellesley of the Rift police," he +said. + +Amos Sealilly was a great, craggy ruin of a man, with seamed face and +heavy grey brows that shadowed intense blue eyes. Eyes that glared just +now. "What do you want here?" he bellowed. + +"My mission is to perform an ethnic census for the Bureau of Genetics. +I shall require your co-operation." + +"There are three hundred and twelve people in Aidennsport," Sealilly +said. "Write that down and get out. Go back to your space castle and +leave us alone." + +Wellesley sighed. "I am afraid that an ethnic census is never quite +that simple. However, since you are required by law to assist me, you +may as well know the truth. This community is suspected of inbreeding." + + * * * * * + +Inbreeding is not, of course, a crime, except against nature. Nor is +it ordinarily dangerous. Combined, however, with the environmental +influences of certain Rim planets, it may cause genuine, true-breeding +mutations within the species, such as monsters, impressiono-telepaths, +psycho-variants and other undesirables which, if allowed to multiply +for a few generations, might become dominant. They are located and +deported to A-type worlds. + +It had been an anonymous tip that had brought Wellesley to Ophir, +but in all the inhabited universe, he knew, the Bureau was the sole +guardian of the classic blood strain, and it took no chances. + +"What's 'inbreeding,' pa?" said Joseph, tugging solemnly at his +father's sleeve. + +"A naughty word of the middle ages," said Sealilly thickly. "A bugaboo +of the mighty sky-chiefs. If we do not co-operate we bring their +lightning upon our heads. Yet, what must we do?" + +Wellesley did not smile. "You must inform the colonists that I wish +to interview each member of every family and clan briefly, beginning +tomorrow morning at seven. I do not mind in the least being _persona +non grata_, but if any person fails to show up, or if there is any +trouble, you will be held personally responsible. Moreover, I do not +think you are as drunk as you would like me to believe." + +Amos Sealilly bowed, took a flask from his pocket and drained it. + +"One other thing. I shall need a place to sleep." + +Sealilly smiled. "There is an abandoned native daub-hut behind my +house. You are welcome to it." + +"It will serve," answered Wellesley coldly. "There are natives in the +area then?" + +"Yes. Bipeds, though not mammalian, you will find. In fact, quite low +in the scale of evolution. They are nearsighted and harmless by day, +but you will be wise to keep to your hut after dark." + +"I can take care of myself." + +"I'll show you the place," Joseph offered. "I can carry your space kit, +too." + + * * * * * + +"Over there is my ship," Joseph said, pointing. "We are making ready to +put out for Arcturus." + +There was a bright constancy about Joseph that clutched at the heart. +Not Lieutenant Wellesley's heart, of course, he reminded himself. +The "ship" was indeed the rusty, peaked foretank from some ancient +freighter, complete with hatch. It was set on end at the edge of the +swamp. To any boy it would have been a starship. + +It was already dusk. The Ophirian daub-hut was not so bad as he +expected. It was massive. The orifice had been enlarged into a door. +Windows had been added. The only furnishing was the rude couch. It was +a measure of Sealilly's hostility. + +Joseph spied the ferrax-thing scuttling across the lawn and dived at +it. The two of them rolled over and over, Joseph laughing, the animal +growling and spitting. + +Wellesley went in, closed the door and removed his official log +from its case. The next two hours were spent in a carefully worded +account--for space logs are part of the permanent records of the +Galactic Court, among others--of the events of the day, including a +bleak and perhaps prejudiced account of the character of Aidennsport +and of Amos Sealilly. + +Afterwards he lay back on the couch and smoked several cigarettes +in lieu of the food capsules that he did not crave. He was far from +imaginative; nevertheless, the character of the place crept at last +into his consciousness. He was used to cramped, machinery-filled +spaces and the sterile smells of hot metal and ozone; here was an +aura of decaying organic matter--and of something else. A faint, +but unmistakable reptilian odor, attesting to the nature of past +inhabitants. + +The vault of darkness was absolute, unabated by the dim patches of +light that were the fenestrations above where he lay. + +And presently someone very stealthily opened the door and entered. + + * * * * * + +Only for an instant was the figure silhouetted there before the door +closed and darkness reigned supreme once more. Yet that instant was +long enough to tell him that it had been a woman. And though her +features had not been discernible, he had gotten the impression of +exceptional beauty. + +For a time there was no movement; no sound save her faint breathing. +"Who's there?" he said. "What do you want?" + +And then she came nearer and stood so close to him that the perfume of +her breath was upon his face. Suddenly he groped, caught her arm and +pulled her to him. The warmth of her body was against him. He felt her +tremble. But she did not try to pull away. + +He laughed. "Perhaps I may revise my opinion of Ophir," he said. + +"No light!" she whispered. Her voice was low and vibrant. + +"Why not?" + +"I must not be seen here. But I had to warn you. It would not have been +right not to warn you about Aidennsport." + +"What of Aidennsport?" + +"It is a dreadful--an evil place. There are forces here which you would +not understand. Leave at once while you are still able to go!" + +"You forget that I am a policeman. To leave without completing the +census would be dereliction. I remind you that the Empire is inexorable +in these things. And who are you, anyway?" + +She did not answer, but drew away so quickly that he could not grasp +her. In a moment, from across the room her voice came. It was less +intimate, even matter-of-fact. + +"If you will not leave," she said, "lock this door behind me and do +not, as you value your life, step outside this hut until daylight." + +She was suddenly gone and he was alone in mystification and wonder, and +a dull, stirring anger that he could not account for. + +But he could make nothing of it and after a time he put the incident +resolutely out of his mind and tried to sleep. This was not +accomplished at once. Curious sounds had begun to filter in through the +fenestrations. Some were the night sounds of birds or insects. Other +sounds, faint hissings and gruntings, were unidentifiable. Once he +thought he heard the slap-slap of bare feet running past his door. + +At last he was forced to employ a mild form of auto-suggestion, learned +long ago and employed often during those first lonely years in space. +He slept. + +But once, in the early hours of morning, he was awakened by a tumult. +There was much loud hissing and the scampering of many feet outside +the daub-hut, as though some intricate and riotous game might be in +progress out there, the nature of the game--or for that matter, the +players--unguessed at. But he was half asleep, and thought little of it +until he awoke again at daybreak. + + * * * * * + +The Authority of the Rift constabulary is acknowledged universally, +though sometimes grudgingly. The men of Aidennsport, therefore, +sullenly reported to Wellesley, and brought their families. + +It is a singular thing, but almost every birth and death in the galaxy +is recorded by the Empire. The laws concerning this are old and +stringently enforced. Therefore Wellesley already had a fairly accurate +estimate of the true population of Aidennsport, and it came close to +the number offered by Amos Sealilly. + +Following the seldom-used manual of the Bureau, he received vital +statistics, made micro-photos and dermal prints, and endeavored a +minute scrutiny of every man, woman and child that passed before him. +He was finished by mid-afternoon. + +Evidence of ingeneration he found in plenty, in the marked similarity +of features among certain families, but nothing which could be called +deviation or mutation. Not even polydactylism, which is one of the +earlier manifestations. Still, he knew that the physical impress of the +mutant was often subtle, and that he might have overlooked something. + +In none of the females could he identify the girl of last evening. If +she had failed to appear--was hiding in the village--might not others +be hiding too? + +The only recourse was to study the natives and try again. In many cases +deviation among _homo sapiens_, who had colonized the Rim planets, +simulated the natural characteristics of native races. The relationship +between mutation and environment was obvious. + +The chief magistrate, factor, or leader of any colony with an official +grant was required by law to assist and obey any member of the Rift +police in the capacity of a deputy. + +Wellesley called Amos Sealilly, who had been avoiding him all day. "Is +there a tribe of the dominant native species near here?" he asked. + +Sealilly was still drinking, and saluted stiffly. "In the swamp, +Lieutenant." + +"Guide me there." + +"You can go to hell," Sealilly said, "and I will guide you _there_." + +"You refuse?" + +"I do. It's too dangerous for a spaceman. Full of bog-fever. You've no +natural resistance. Besides, I'm busy inventorying." + +"Very well," Wellesley said, struggling to hold his temper in check, +"I'll find them alone." + +"In which case," said Sealilly, "you will not come back, and that will +be an irreparable loss to the Empire." + +Wellesley left him and made his way toward the swamp. Joseph was +playing near his ship, and calling orders to an imaginary crew inside. +When he saw Wellesley he came running. + +"We were just blasting off for Earth," he said, "but I heard you and Pa +talking. If you want to go in the swamp, I'll show you the way. I've +been there lots. The Ophirians hang out on the shores of the black +lake, where the organ pipes are." He pointed to the towering pinnacles +in the distance. "They catch shellfish there." + +"You know them?" + +"Everybody has seen them. They are kind of green and slimy, but they +won't hurt you. They can't see in the day-time. Only smell. Anyway, I'm +not afraid of them." + +"Done," said Wellesley, "and in return for the favor I promise to put +in a word for you at the nearest spaceman's hiring hall." + +"You won't have to do that," Joseph said. "My crew and I are going to +be space pirates." + +Then Wellesley laughed aloud, and felt better afterward than he had +felt in many a long month. + + * * * * * + +The trail through the swamp was damp and primitive. Everywhere the +cycads, giant ferns and reeds overhung the path. There were great, +blood-colored flowers which snapped at twigs that Joseph put into their +corollas. + +Meanwhile, the ferrax-beast labored behind them, following with its +proboscis to the ground, until the boy, taking pity, picked it up and +carried it. Wellesley asked its name. + +"His name is Omur," Joseph said. "I caught him in the mountains when he +was little and raised him. But now Omur is too fat to walk." + +Eventually they emerged into an open swale, with a stretch of dark +water before them. On the other side of the slough lay a sight well +worth a day's march. Dozens of giant pipes, some two hundred feet or +more in height, stood braced against the sky, pastel blue, pink, and +gold in the mists. + +But Wellesley was less interested in these than the creatures which +moved like grubs about their base, at the edge of the lake--squat, +grotesque forms that waded the shallow water, scavenging for shellfish +and crustaceans, and took no notice of the humans. + +On coming nearer, however, Wellesley observed a very curious fact. The +Ophirians were of two varieties. The ones in the mud were gross and +toadlike in appearance. Whenever they found an especial delicacy they +would run, with their webbed feet making smacking sounds in the shoal +water, and lay it at the feet of an Ophirian who sat in a wallow of +peat moss and mud, and did nothing. He was a much smaller variety, but, +Wellesley noted, with considerably greater frontal development to his +skull. Also his thin body bore a long, green tail. The tails of the +workers were vestigial. + +"The chief?" Wellesley asked. + +"No," Joseph said. "It's something else." + +"Are they a clan, then, or brothers?" + +"Closer than brothers," Joseph said, scratching Omur's head. + +"I have it--_avatars!_ I should have guessed!" He had heard of this +odd genetic arrangement before, but never witnessed it. In such +cases a dozen or more individuals were born of a single nucleus in +a single egg. Of these, one developed more fully than the rest and +controlled his mentally-stunted avatars with a mental vinculum far more +fundamental and powerful than mere telepathic union. On the other hand, +the avatars were his hands and feet, and had larger bodies. + +The large-headed Ophirian sat in his wallow and accepted the food +offered him with long, leathery fingers. He crunched noisily. Once he +turned to stare at them briefly with great, owl eyes. Eleven avatars +turned simultaneously to stare. It was like looking into a multiple +mirror. + +"They sense us," Joseph said, "but they can't see us. Come on." + +From nearby, the pipes were even more awe-inspiring. Besides the +massive old towers there were smaller ones in every stage of +development. It was incredible to think that they were actually +growing; pushing up out of the lake. + +In one of them a jagged hole, five or six feet in circumference, had +been broken at the base. Joseph, with his furry pet under his arm, went +to investigate it. + +A moment later there came a shout from him that brought Wellesley +running. "What's the matter?" + +"Omur went up the pipe," Joseph said, "but _you_ can get him." There +were tears in his eyes. Beseeching tears. + +"We'll see," said Lieutenant Wellesley brusquely. He put his head +inside the pipe. A tiny circle of light far above him showed at what an +awesome height was the upper rim. The inner surface, however, was very +rough, and there were plenty of holds for hands and feet. He could not +see Omur; only the circle of light, and around it, blackness. Suppose +the damned thing bit him when he tried to rescue it! A faint, moaning +sound emanated from the vast funnel, doubtless from the updraft. + +He found a place for his foot; drew himself up a step; then another. +Joseph's white face was staring up at him from below. _And suddenly the +circle of light was blotted out!_ + + * * * * * + +There was a rustling sound like dry leaves in the wind, and a sudden, +sharp pain in his temple. Then another at the base of his neck. He fell +back and sprang out into the open. The aperture, in an instant, was +full of small, needle-like fluttering things. + +"Stingbats!" Joseph screamed. "Run!" + +Wellesley fled after him, but he was already beginning to feel a sick, +draining weakness. Within a few steps his legs had become rubbery. +Joseph was out of sight. Perhaps gone for help. But then Joseph did not +know that he had been stung. + +After a while he came to a small, black pond in his path. He had gotten +off the trail. He sank down, there, beneath a fern tree, cursing. + +He was sure that he was dying, for a numbness, an absence of feeling, +had stolen up from his feet and possessed his legs. He essayed a bitter +smile. He was more chagrined than afraid, for this was an ignominious +way to pass, here in a nameless swamp, alone, not even beset by one +worthy enemy. And perhaps when he thought he smiled, he was merely +baring his teeth in that manner that certain neurotoxins leave their +corpses always.... + + * * * * * + +Someone was shaking him brutally and insistently, and someone was +repeating his name, over and over. He knew the voice at once, for it +had been lately in his thoughts. + +"_Get up!_" she said. + +"I can't." + +"You must--or die. Get up now and try to walk. Come, I'll help you." + +She did help him, and with her support he managed to get to his knees +and then to his feet. He walked. + +Afterward, there was a kind of delirium. He remembered bitter tasting +capsules which she made him swallow later on in the daub-hut, but he +did not recall having arrived there. He only knew that it was pleasant +to have her cool hands on his forehead. The hands seemed to fill a +vast, fundamental need. And this was out-of-character for Lieutenant +Wellesley. + +After a while he was lucid, and was surprised to note that, as at their +other meeting, the darkness was absolute. "It's night," he said. "Very +dark." + +"Yes." + +"Give me your hand." + +He held it for a time in both his own. It was a firm, capable hand with +long, tapering fingers. "Believe that I am grateful," Wellesley said, +"even though I must be grateful to a benefactor whom I have yet to see +for the first time. Let me look at you. I cannot command you to tell me +who you are, as an officer of the Rift constabulary, but I ask it as +your friend." + +"You ask the impossible," she said. "The worst is over for you, but +there may be still another shock to come. You must stay here until you +are stronger, and then I will help you escape. Now I had better go, +before--before I am missed." + +He heard her retreating footsteps and the closing of the door. + +_Escape from what?_ he wondered vaguely. The poison, or the antidote +seemed to have brought about some curious psychological change in him. +He could not think with the old, clear incisiveness. The drive was +gone, the purposefulness of his mission to Ophir. He was like Samson +shorn--or a man taken with void amentia whose mind becomes as a +child's. + +And it was so dark. A horrible suspicion arose in his mind. He searched +for, and found the torch that was in his kit. He turned it on. Nothing +happened. No beam of light shot out to illuminate the ceiling. He +clicked the switch several times, then held the lens against his cheek. +It was warm, all right. + +He was stone blind. + + * * * * * + +Wellesley was not unlearned in the physiological sciences. He guessed +that the blindness might be temporary--a result of neural shock, but +that was scant consolation. + +Now it seemed to him that since his arrival an invisible pattern of +ill-will had been forming up around him. An ugly something lurking +beneath the sullen surface of this strange village. A malignant force, +beyond doubt, that well knew his true mission on Ophir. + +Now he was helpless, incapable of concerted action. He could not even +retreat, but only lie and listen and wait. Now it was _their_ move. The +terrors of the blind were apt to be blind terrors indeed. + +The sounds were not long in beginning. At first an indistinct murmur. +Then something--or someone--scampered swiftly past his door. He got +up and locked it; then lay back, spent by the exertion. Presently the +running and scampering began in earnest. And a hissing and squealing +such as might have emanated from all the fiends in Hell. Once there +came a scratching at the door. + +An hour passed like a century. The sounds had gradually died away into +an absolute silence that was much worse. He waited. + +There came a knock at the door. + +He sat up quickly. "Who is it?" + +"_It's me--Joseph._" + +He unlocked the door and the boy came in with light, eager tread. "You +all right?" he said. + +"Yes--yes, I'm all right. But I can't see. Tell me, what time is it?" + +"It's nearly morning." + +"Thank God! Now listen carefully. Do you know what a strategic +withdrawal is?" + +"Sure, everybody knows that. Every spaceman, I mean." + +"Good. It is time for me to withdraw to my patrol monitor in space and +make a radio report. Will you guide me to the rocket? There may be +danger." + +"I'm not afraid," Joseph said. "Come on, I know a short cut." + +Wellesley slung his space kit over his shoulder and followed, with his +hand on Joseph's collar. They went out into the night air which smelled +fresh and clean after the daub-hut, and revived him a little. + +At first he walked easily, for the ground was level, but after a minute +or two the growth became heavy underfoot, causing him to stumble, and +reeds were whipping against his face. + +Presently they halted. + +"Why have we stopped?" Wellesley asked. + +"Here we are," Joseph said. + +"We couldn't have gotten there in such a short time. Not even by a +short cut." + +"Put your hand out before you," Joseph commanded. "You'll see. I guess +we can blast off any time." There was a sound of feet, scrambling up a +steel ladder. A moment later he could hear Joseph's voice from inside, +echoing hollowly. + +He put his hand out and touched the ladder. The rungs were flaked with +heavy rust beneath his finger. "_This is not my rocket!_" + +"It's _my_ rocket," said Joseph's disembodied voice, from somewhere +above his head. + +Wellesley cursed him. + +"It's the fastest ship in the universe," Joseph said. "_Where you +going?_" + + * * * * * + +Black anger possessed him, but the keen instinct of orientation common +to men who have lived in interstellar space worked for his salvation. +He might have blundered into the swamp, but he did not. Instead he +came up, after a terrible half-hour, against the wall of a building +which, by its immense extent, could only have been the warehouse. He +moved along its sheer, featureless side until he came to a door, which +reoriented him, then struck out in the direction that he guessed the +daub-hut to be. + +He bumped against it at last, located its door, flung himself in and +thankfully bolted it behind him. + +But he was not alone. She was there, waiting for him. He started when +she spoke. + +"Where have you been?" she breathed. "I have been terrified. I found +the hut empty and I was sure that you were dead." + +"Like a bad penny," he said, "I return. But your being here is good +fortune. I am certain that _you_ will consent to leading a blind man to +his ship without resorting to childish trickery. In fact, I shall make +sure of it." + +"Not now," she said. "It is too dangerous. We could never get through +the swamp. Besides, you must still be weak from the effects of the +poison. Let us wait until morning." + +He seized her wrists and squeezed. + +"You're hurting me!" she cried. + +"Then waste no time. And if you try to break way, or lead me into a +trap, I'll snap your wrist like a straw!" He dragged her to the door. + +"Through the village is best," she said. "They are sure to see us, but +in the open we may be able to outrun them." + +"_Who_ is sure to see us?" + +"Never mind that now. Follow me!" + +Their flight had a rather dream-like quality because nothing impeded +them, even beyond the village. Miraculously she seemed to guide him +where no underbrush or tangling grasses caught his feet, so that not +once did he fall. + +"There it is, just ahead," she said. "The rocket tubes appear to have +sunk into the mud two or three feet, though. Do you think you will be +able to take off?" + +"It will not matter in the least," he said. "But tell me, is it still +dark?" + +"Yes." + +"Quite dark?" + +"Very dark," she said. + +"That's all I wanted to know. Open the airlock and climb up. I'll +follow." + +Once aboard, he found the controls and set them for take-off. Then he +pressed a small button. The port began to swing shut. He heard her run +toward it, but he caught her and held her until the heavy hatch had +banged shut with a hiss of escaping air. + +"Let me go," she whimpered. "What are you going to do to me?" + +"You are under civil arrest," he said harshly. + +"But I haven't done anything. I have helped you." + +"Of course. But you forget that I represent law--not justice. Once I +told you that I could be ruthless. You see, whoever you are, you are +what I came here to find. I have suspected all along; now I am certain." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You brought me here without losing the way. Then, from a hundred feet +away you saw that this rocket tender had settled two feet into mud. +_All this in absolute darkness._ That must mean that you have night +sight--like the natives, a sure sign of abnormality. Besides that, you +have consistently avoided me in daylight. Meaning that I must not get +a glimpse of you, even though you were able to see me quite well. You +were the reason for Sealilly's hostility. He wanted to get rid of me +before I found out about you. Joseph, the normal child, was used as a +decoy to mislead me. But Joseph's sister was a mutant." + +She fell to the deck, sobbing, as he throttled full power for the +blast-off. + + * * * * * + +Wellesley left Ophir a small, grey-green globe in the vastness of +black space and set an automatic course for the mother ship, where he +intended to submit a detailed report by radio to Regional Headquarters +on Rigel Twelve. + +So far as he was concerned, the case was closed, once they were aboard +the patrol ship, but it was three weeks to the vicinity of Rigel, and +in that time a curious sequel had developed. + +The girl (her name turned out to be Laura) had stopped crying, and had +begun to take an interest in life once more. In fact, he sensed that +she was studying him a great deal of late. + +They were standing before the viewport, she looking at the great angry +mass of Rigel, magnified in the glass, but actually still two days +ahead, he listening to every sound aboard the huge ship as he had +learned to listen since the darkness closed in on Ophir. + +She spoke. "How will it be on Rigel Twelve? Will I ever see you again?" + +"Will you care?" he said. + +"Perhaps I ought to hate you, but it is only because you are blind that +you can not understand. On Ophir I was not happy, but at least it was +home. Out there they may laugh at me. It is exciting and wonderful, but +terrifying." + +"They will not laugh at you. You will be allowed to live on any +approved planet that you wish, and choose your own profession. You will +be trained at the expense of the Empire. And in a few years you may +be allowed to visit your father and brother on Ophir. Only _visit_, I +mean. Does that sound so bad?" + +"But if they laugh--" + +"_I_ am not laughing," said Wellesley, with a strange lump in his +throat. + +"You might if you could see me. I'm too dark. My eyes are too big. My +ears are too small." + +"I _can_ see you," he said. + +"Is it true!" She clasped his shoulders. "But when--how long?" + +"Since this morning, a little. The effect of the venom is passing. +Now I can see you perfectly, and you are beautiful. Strange, and--and +beautiful." + +And she was. + +"Do not go to Rigel Twelve. Stay with me," he said. (It was Wellesley's +misfortune that he always sounded like a policeman making an arrest, +but she kissed him anyway.) + +And he thought what a fool Amos Sealilly had been. + + * * * * * + +But Amos Sealilly had had troubles of his own. It was the evening after +Wellesley had taken leave of Ophir forever. Sealilly dreaded the coming +night, as he always did, and had fortified himself against it. He was +drunk, but not drunk enough. + +The warehouse was locked for the day. He was walking toward the house, +lurching a little, and mumbling curses as he did so. Then he spied +Joseph. + +Joseph, a small figure in the dusk, had just climbed out of the rusty +old peak-tank at the edge of the swamp. He had furnished it with a +bunk, as befit a well-found spaceship, and often slept there. + +The fact was that he had been sleeping there all day, having been up +all night. Joseph did not go to school. He yawned and stretched. + +Amos Sealilly went on to the house, and started to shut the door behind +him, but Joseph, coming up behind him, pushed it open and came in. He +was breathing hard, having hurried to catch up with his father. He +asked: + +"What about the spaceman?" + +"What about him?" + +"Was he lost in the swamp?" + +"Where did you get that idea?" Sealilly said. "He made it. Took off +before you were up this morning, just before dawn." + +"I _was_ up," Joseph said. "I thought it was a meteorite. Damn!" He +stamped his small foot. + +Sealilly grinned thinly. "Laura went with him." + +Joseph's face whitened. "_Laura?_ Damn him! Damn her too." + +"You always hated her," said Sealilly, taking the bottle out of his +pocket and sucking it. "She was too normal for you to stomach, I +guess." + +"I would've got him if he hadn't run away like a yellow dog," Joseph +said. "The stingbats would have done it if she hadn't interfered. And +then this morning I had him, too." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Who +do you suppose tipped him off?" + +And he watched his father's pasty face. + +"_Who?_" + +Sealilly laughed. + +"All right," Joseph hissed. "I'll get you for that. You wanted to get +rid of _me_, I'll bet. But you got rid of her instead." + +But Sealilly continued to laugh, inside, because this was almost as +good as getting rid of Joseph, having Laura out of his clutches at last. + +"Me and my crew will fix you for that," Joseph said bitterly. + +And with that, his avatars came crowding in behind him, squat, powerful +and ugly, their saucer eyes intent upon Sealilly. + +He had been through it several times before, but this time he screamed +a little bit before it was over. He could not get away from Joseph, of +course. There was too many of him. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Scamperers, by Charles A. Stearns + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59516 *** |