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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #61110 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61110)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tybalt, by Stephen Barr
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll
-have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
-this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Tybalt
-
-Author: Stephen Barr
-
-Release Date: January 5, 2020 [EBook #61110]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TYBALT ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- TYBALT
-
- BY STEPHEN BARR
-
- Adolescence is a perilous time--whether
- it is the adolescence of a man,
- or of the whole race of Man!
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-The physics teacher, Howard Dax, dismissed the class. He picked up
-a felt-covered block and erased the diagrams he had drawn on the
-blackboard. He noticed with annoyance that the lines were shaky, and in
-one place was an irregular star where the chalk had broken because of
-his exasperation at his pupils--or more exactly, one particular pupil.
-
-When the blackboard was clean to the corners--Howard Dax was a very
-precise man--he turned around and saw that the particular pupil was
-still sitting at his desk. He was a thin boy of fifteen, called
-Mallison, whose dark, wavy hair was too long. It rose in a kind of
-breaker over his forehead, and he had sideburns cut to a point. His
-expression was neither sullen nor impertinent, but Dax had always
-had the feeling that Mallison was concealing intense boredom and only
-listened to him perforce. He was sure that the narrow, rather handsome
-face was on the verge of sneering. But there had never been quite
-anything that he could put his finger on. The boy was definitely not
-good at physics, yet he wasn't at the bottom of the class. The thing
-was that he gave the impression of being above average intelligence. He
-obviously could do very much better if he wanted to. Dax was convinced
-that he despised physics, and school in general.
-
-"Yes?" Dax said. "What is it?" He tried to make his voice sound natural
-and casual.
-
-Mallison stared at him impassively for a moment. Then he said, "You
-don't like me, Mr. Dax, do you?"
-
-"My dear boy, I neither like you nor dislike you," Dax said. He could
-feel his hands beginning again to tremble slightly. Damn adrenalin! "I
-am merely trying to teach you elementary physics. Why do you ask?"
-
-"Why do you give me such low grades?" Mallison said, but with no sense
-of urgent curiosity.
-
-Howard Dax thought that the boy's manner was altogether too adult. He
-didn't expect deference from a modern teenager, but neither did he like
-to be spoken to in such a man-to-man way. No; come to think of it,
-man-to-man wasn't quite the phrase. It was off-hand. And yet it was
-artificial: Mallison never spoke in this way to his contemporaries. He
-usually talked like a ... what was it? Hipster?
-
-"I give students the grades that in my opinion they deserve," Dax said.
-"In your case they are low because I don't think you're trying."
-
-"I am trying," Mallison said, then added, "sir."
-
-"You are," Dax said. "Very." He thought the remark was rather neat,
-but the boy looked at him without any change of expression. Why was he
-here? What did he want to say? "I must confess," Dax went on, "that I
-am surprised at your interest in grades. I should have thought that
-rock-and-roll was more your style. That and ... er ... racing around
-at night in a fast car!" He felt that he was sneering, and made his
-face blank.
-
-"I'm too young for a driver's license," Mallison said.
-
-"But old enough to pull yourself together and do some real work. You
-could do much better in class. You're not stupid."
-
- * * * * *
-
-The boy said nothing and continued to stare at him without expression.
-
-"When I see signs of an improved attitude," Dax said, "and a little
-more work, I shall mark you accordingly. One gets the impression
-usually that your mind is on other things. Things like jazz records."
-
-"Didn't you listen to jazz when you were young, Mr. Dax?"
-
-Howard Dax at thirty-nine hardly thought of himself as old. The boy was
-not being exactly fresh, but he had a sort of polite tactlessness. It
-was absurd, but he felt that Mallison had the upper hand, somehow.
-
-Dax had an older brother who had been a lieutenant in World War II,
-and he had described to him an occasion on which he had interviewed
-an elderly staff sergeant. The staff sergeant in civilian life had
-been his brother's boss. Although his manner was scrupulously correct,
-there remained an atmosphere of his peacetime ascendancy. Howard Dax
-sympathized with his brother. There was nothing actually wrong with
-Mallison's manner, but the pupil had the master on the defensive.
-
-He decided to ignore Mallison's question. He had no idea how the young
-nowadays felt about the subject of early Benny Goodman or the emergence
-of Barrel House. Why was he even bothering?
-
-"The point at issue," he said with asperity, "is not whether I used to
-listen to jazz twenty-five years ago, but whether you are going to pay
-attention in class _now_. I admit you manage to scrape through in the
-tests, but this morning, for example, you acted as if you were half
-asleep!"
-
-"I'm sorry. I was very tired." Mallison did look pale.
-
-"I suppose you were up half the night--cutting a rug."
-
-Mallison winced at the outdated jargon but he merely shook his head.
-There were firm steps in the corridor, and the school principal marched
-in.
-
-Mallison stood up; Dax was still standing. The principal had a small
-piece of folded paper in his hand, and did not immediately notice the
-boy, whose desk was near the back row and next the open windows. He
-went straight to the platform and put the folded paper on Dax's desk.
-He nodded curtly and glanced towards the windows, and saw Mallison
-sitting there for the first time.
-
- * * * * *
-
-"I thought you were alone," he said, turning to Dax.
-
-"You may go," Dax said to the boy. "That will be all. Remember what
-I said." He looked at the folded paper and then at the principal
-questioningly. "Yes, Mr. Lightstone?"
-
-The principal was a short white-haired man with a dogged expression.
-He turned again to make sure the boy had left and said. "I want you to
-look at this, Dax." He tapped the folded paper, which had been made
-into a sort of envelope, with its ends tucked in. Dax bent to examine
-it.
-
-"Pick it up, man! Open it," the principal said, and came around and sat
-in the teacher's chair. "Be careful not to spill it!"
-
-Dax picked up the little packet and opened it. Inside was a teaspoonful
-of white powder. "What is it?" he asked.
-
-"That," said the principal, "is something for our friends upstairs
-in the chemistry department to determine. I found it myself, in the
-flowerbed right outside these windows!"
-
-Howard Dax looked puzzled. "I don't think I understand--"
-
-"If I don't miss my bet," said the principal, "that's heroin!" He
-jerked his head towards the windows. "And somebody threw it out of
-this classroom!"
-
-"Oh, I don't think it's heroin, Mr. Lightstone," Dax said. "Heroin has
-a distinct glitter, and this seems--"
-
-"I had the impression you were a physicist, not a chemist," the
-principal said. "Besides, the police told us last week that they
-believe a gang of narcotics pushers--I think they called them--are
-operating in the neighborhood! What else could it be? I've been on the
-lookout for something of this sort."
-
-There was a silence. Dax didn't know what to say.
-
-He himself was very tired, he had been working late every evening. He
-had three different tasks that occupied every minute of his waking
-hours: his job as teacher being the least important although the most
-essential. The other two were perhaps visionary, but they might lead to
-something more exciting than retiring on a pension.
-
-"Well?" Mr. Lightstone was impatient--his usual condition. "Have you
-any ideas? It has been my experience that drug-taking and juvenile
-delinquency go together." This was not strictly true as Mr. Lightstone
-had never knowingly seen a drug-taker, but he did read the papers.
-
-"I suppose there is a certain amount of delinquency here," Howard Dax
-said uncertainly, "but _narcotics_...."
-
-"Wake up, man!" the principal said. "You look half asleep! This is a
-serious matter. I found the stuff right outside these windows! You must
-have some idea of who might be involved. Which are the unruly ones? Who
-sits next the windows?"
-
-Dax glanced at the desk recently left by Mallison. Mallison? One
-couldn't exactly call him unruly.... Yet he had the earmarks of a type
-he detested and instinctively mistrusted. He even feared him a little,
-though not perhaps for reasons of which he was quite aware.
-
-"Who was that boy that just left?" The principal had noticed the
-direction of Dax's glance. "Mallison, wasn't it?"
-
-"Yes, but the packet might just as well have been thrown from one of
-the paths outside."
-
-"There's no path near here. You know that perfectly well," said the
-principal. "There's a wide stretch of grass beyond the flower bed and
-no one's allowed to walk on it! I've had my eye on that boy...."
-
- * * * * *
-
-Howard Dax thought this over. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put
-such a thing past the young smart-alec. Hoodlumism doesn't necessarily
-advertise itself in the classroom.
-
-He looked at the principal. The man had a nerve to accuse _him_ of
-seeming half asleep! Working in his private lab after dinner and then
-at his desk until all hours, struggling to learn Middle English--or
-rather, transitional Anglo-Saxon. He had done well at English lit at
-college, even though majoring in science, and Chaucer had come fairly
-easy to him. But Twelfth Century speech--and that was what he had
-to learn--was something else again. Chaucer himself couldn't have
-understood it. He wondered what young Mallison and his hipster friends
-would think if they knew his secret occupations. He could just imagine
-the sneering.
-
-"Well, you _could_ be right, I suppose," he said. "He's not my--shall
-I say?--favorite pupil."
-
-"I'm glad you think I could be right," Mr. Lightstone said. "I intend
-to hold an investigation. At the first possible opportunity. This very
-evening, in fact. At my office, and I shall have young Mallison brought
-before us. I shall expect you." He got up and strutted out of the class
-room.
-
-After a few moments Howard Dax followed him. Outside, on his way to the
-gate, he passed Mallison, who was standing talking to another boy who
-had a similar haircut, but was unfamiliar to the physics teacher. He
-thought he was not a pupil of this school. They both became silent as
-he drew near them, looking at him without any expression. Dax wondered
-if narcotics could be responsible for Mallison's pallor.
-
-After dinner Dax went into his little lab, which was actually the
-kitchenette he never used. On the table and sink was some chemical
-apparatus. The principal's remark had been ill-chosen since Dax at
-college had started with chemistry as his major and had only switched
-to physics in his senior year. He had also become interested in
-genetics, and it was this all-around interest in the sciences that had
-perhaps militated against him. Nowadays one ought to specialize.
-
-Well, he was specializing now.
-
-In an evaporating dish in the sink were some dark brown crystals
-that his landlady would have taken for Damerara sugar, but which had
-a considerably more complex formula. They would have lent a rather
-odd flavor to Indian pudding. The logic which had given rise to this
-formula was not merely complex but revolutionary. It involved the
-concept of reversibility of entropy--the application of which was
-itself unprecedented.
-
-There were, Howard Dax was aware, certain aspects of germ chemistry
-that defied description in terms of classical and mechanistic theory;
-details that seemed to require the inversion of Time's arrow. To say
-that a physical process was "non-reversible" usually implied the
-presence of the probability factor. But that didn't seem to be the
-case here. There was the suggestion of prophecy. Or else that time was
-flowing backwards. Or ... was it that something flowed backward through
-time?
-
-Then there was the fact that the germ plasm was immortal. Not
-indestructible, for the overwhelming majority of zygotes and gametes
-died; but if one disregarded the soma, all living germ cells had been
-alive since the beginning of life. After terrific work, none of which
-would have seemed quite orthodox to his colleagues, Dax had arrived at
-the end of theory and the beginning of practical application--at the
-taking-off point--the countdown.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Lying on the drainboard near the evaporating dish was a hypodermic
-syringe.
-
-If he were to dissolve the dark brown crystals and inject the solution
-into his veins, Dax believed that whatever it was that impeded this
-time-reversal would be neutralized. His consciousness--not his body,
-his somatic cells--would travel back along the unbroken line of his
-identity as a germinal continuity. Back to the extent that the effect
-of the chemical would allow.
-
-He would then be in the body of one of his ancestors. Not spread among
-them all, but following the line of greatest genetic valence to one
-individual: living in the Twelfth Century A. D. Probably, but not
-certainly, somewhere in England, since most of his ancestors came from
-there.
-
-Of course the time might be wrong. He had no way of making a precise
-determination. He had experimented with a rabbit, but after the soft
-little beast's eyes glazed over in unconsciousness it had immediately
-come to. The time taken during its visit to the purlieus of its remote
-and unknown forebears was of no duration in the present. And it had at
-once attacked him and bitten him savagely.
-
-It seemed curious that an ancestral rabbit at a period not so very far
-back from a biological point of view should have a spirit so foreign to
-the rabbits of today. Perhaps the drug had overshot its mark....
-
-What if that were to happen in his case? Wouldn't it perhaps take him
-to some earlier, non-human form and then, as it were, rebound to the
-precise moment in history that the strength of the drug indicated? A
-man is not a rabbit. But suppose he found himself not in the body of a
-Twelfth Century Englishman--a risky enough situation--but hanging by
-his tail from a tree in Java? How long before the hypothetical rebound
-to the time of the Plantagenets?
-
-Howard Dax was too tired to concentrate on the problem: it was probably
-moonshine. The rabbit had been frightened, not atavistic.
-
-The cumulative effect of overwork and irritation at the boy Mallison
-and the principal's manner had made him reckless and impatient. He
-made a sudden decision to stop worrying about precautions and take the
-plunge ... now.
-
-He had plenty of time before the meeting. The trip to the past would
-have no duration in the present. He measured out an amount of distilled
-water and stirred the brown crystals into it with a glass rod. Then he
-filled the hypodermic and went into his bed-sittingroom.
-
-He went to his desk and took a last look at a list of early English
-irregular verbs and lay down on his sofa, rolling up his sleeve.
-
-He hardly felt the prick of the needle but he realized that the rather
-painful bump on his forehead had distracted his attention from it.
-
-He looked at the thing he had bumped against. It was wooden and round
-in section, about as thick as his neck, and rose at a slight deviation
-from the vertical to a circular platform that was supported at other
-places by two more wooden uprights. Beyond and above was an immensely
-lofty roof of dark timbers. Far to the sides were stone walls.
-
-He looked down to discover that the cold floor under him was also of
-stone, covered here and there with dry yellowish reeds. Then he saw
-that he was on all fours.
-
-Instead of hands he had black, furry paws.
-
-
- II
-
-Trice, the jester, was getting old. So, he feared, were his jokes.
-
-His joints were stiff and he could no longer do the amusing contortions
-that used so to entertain the Earl and his little court. In fact, the
-Earl was getting on, too. He looked as though he was falling asleep in
-his chair. Next to him the Lady Godwina was mumbling and giggling--not
-at poor Trice's feeble quips, but as a result of too much blackberry
-wine mixed with mead. She hiccoughed loudly and the Earl opened his
-eyes.
-
-He glanced at the Lady Godwina with bored distaste, and then at Trice
-the jester. Would that the fellow would cease his tedious clowning and
-go to the kitchens! Yet he hesitated to get rid of him altogether.
-Having a jester at all in these days was a mark of prestige, and he
-didn't know where he'd get a replacement.
-
-Now that King Henry was dead he had fortified his castle like the other
-barons. Since feudal pomp had become the fashion he hung onto its
-trappings--poor old Trice was one of them. But, ye gods, what stale
-jokes! Well, at least they seemed to please the younger serving men,
-who must be too young to remember them.
-
-Trice was unhappily aware that his humor was missing the mark. He fell
-back on the one thing that never failed to make them laugh. He swung
-his bauble and hit himself on the nose. He staggered back with comic
-terror. "Hold on!" he cried to an imaginary assailant. "Not so hard!"
-He struck himself again, harder. "Stop! Or I shall appeal to my noble
-lord for protection!"
-
-The Earl smiled faintly; he didn't want to disappoint the old man.
-Besides, his nose was bleeding. It really was rather funny. Curious
-about these people: they had almost no sense of pain. Trice, seeing the
-smile, hit himself again and again, and feeling the blood, he smeared
-it over his face in fantastic curlicues. The Earl closed his eyes
-again, and Trice caught the eye of the clerk, a young man who had come
-from Normandy. He was sneering. The Lady Godwina was singing a little
-tune to herself, and paid no attention.
-
-The old jester shrugged, and turned towards the archway to the kitchens
-and offices. Better have supper and go to bed--his head ached and his
-nose hurt badly, although the bleeding had stopped. Next to a wooden
-stool he caught sight of his cat, Tybalt, staring at him fixedly.
-Tybalt. His only friend! he thought to himself. But as he passed him,
-the cat, instead of following him out with tail erect to share the
-jester's wretched supper, backed cringing under the stool and turned
-his head as he went by, keeping his staring eyes on him. Most unusual.
-Very un-catlike.
-
-"Here! Tybalt!" Trice said, but the cat backed further away.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Just before he realized what had happened to him, Dax recognized that
-the big wooden thing that loomed over him was a stool.
-
-Maybe it was this realization--and the sight of his own paws--that gave
-him an idea of his size, and on looking back at the rest of himself
-he knew that he was a cat. Something had gone wrong. The flashback
-and subsequent rebound must have taken him far into the dim mammalian
-past, but for what duration he could not tell. The transition had been
-unconscious. At least he did not remember it. But to judge by the style
-of the round stone arches of the hall he was now in--and the stonework
-looked brand new--the ultimate effect had been according to plan, and
-this was the early Middle Ages.
-
-A movement caught his eye and he saw it was the cavorting of an
-enormous man, dressed in gigantic tattered motley.
-
-No. He wasn't enormous; it was just the unfamiliar scale of things. The
-man was saying something in a booming voice, and Dax began to recognize
-it as a form of transitional early English--but with an admixture of
-Norman French and some pure Anglo-Saxon phrases. And what an accent!
-If this man was typical, how wrong modern research and learned
-speculation were! He would have some interesting things to tell the
-experts--particularly his tutor--when he got back.
-
-When he got back.... That was supposed to be in three days
-approximately, when the inhibiting effect of the chemical would wear
-off. Then he would, he hoped, be swept back to his own time and his
-own body. But he was a cat. This was disastrous! How could he speak to
-people? He could understand them fairly well, but a cat's bucal cavity
-and vocal apparatus were not designed for the sounds of human speech.
-
-He decided to try his voice, just on the chance, but stopped, horrified
-at the muffled yowl that resulted.
-
-Two rangy hounds, six times his size, roused themselves from the
-rush-covered floor and glared growling at the sound with raised
-hackles. "Down, Colle! Stop it, Bayard!" a gruff voice commanded, and
-they reluctantly sank back again, keeping their fierce eyes on him. Was
-this a sample of what he must expect from dogs? He hoped it was merely
-his abortive attempt at human speech. Any further communication must be
-tried silently.
-
-He looked around the hall. There were other humans too. Several
-men-at-arms standing by the walls and a few serving men. At the big
-trestle-board were seated five people--one of them clearly the lord of
-the castle--it must be a castle--and the one woman sitting next to him
-in soiled finery would be his lady. The place reeked with the stale
-odor of humans and dogs, and less obnoxiously the smell of wood smoke
-and cooked meat. Dax realized that he now had a feline nose, and made
-allowances. After all, the well-to-do bathed themselves, in the still
-existing classic tradition, and would until the Black Death.
-
-The ridiculous giant in motley stopped his capering and came across
-the stone flags towards him. As he passed with ponderous footsteps he
-looked down and said, "Here, Tybalt!"
-
-Dax backed under the stool, terrified at the deep, hoarse voice. The
-man was probably trying to be gentle. He must keep in mind that he had
-a cat's hearing now, and all sounds would seem lower and louder.
-
- * * * * *
-
-How were cats treated in Medieval England? He did not know, and he was
-not prepared for this contingency. But at least cats as a species had
-survived. He hoped he was one of the lucky ones. He must at all costs
-manage to keep alive for three days, because if he were killed before
-the drug wore off he would not return.
-
-What would they think at the school? Nothing, of course. He would never
-have been there. That would be changing the future ... but you changed
-the future every time you exerted your free will, anyhow.
-
-One of his experimental rats had not come back: it had merely
-disappeared with a loud pop. Perhaps an early Colonial terrier had got
-it. It might be the best thing to do to take to the woods, and wait out
-the time safe from the unknown dangers of men and dogs--but what of the
-dangers of the woods? It was winter, to judge by the fire in the hall,
-on a raised stone platform in the middle of the floor, from which the
-smoke found its way out through a louver in the high roof. And the icy
-drafts that came across the floor. Although he was a cat, he had little
-confidence of being able to hunt like one, or find refuge from the cold
-and snow.
-
-He decided to follow the court jester. At least the man had spoken to
-him kindly. And he had a name: Tybalt. He must remember to answer to
-it.
-
-He got up and began to walk towards the arched doorway through which
-the jester had disappeared.
-
-Walking on all fours felt perfectly natural--rather as if he were
-following himself. There was no trouble about keeping in step, or,
-rather, just out of it. His mouth was dry and he ran his tongue over
-his muzzle ... he could lick his eye! Then he did something that also
-felt natural, though pleasantly novel: he waved his tail. Then he stuck
-out his claws. They clicked against the flagstones and he sheathed them
-again.
-
-He had never in his life felt so supple and physically complete. He
-felt like running up the tapestry that hung by the doorway.
-
-At the other end of the vaulted corridor that he found himself in he
-could see the jester as he went into another chamber that was lit with
-a smoky reddish glow. There was an increased smell of cookery, and he
-guessed it was the kitchen.
-
-When he got to the door he could see the jester was being given
-something in a bowl that steamed, and a large hunk of dark bread. The
-man turned and came out again and saw him.
-
-"Come along, Tybalt," he said. "Supper for you and me. Come along, old
-fellow!"
-
-Dax followed him across the corridor to a narrow stone stairway in the
-thickness of the wall. The winding steps seemed absurdly high. He would
-far rather have done the whole thing in two or three long leaps, but
-he took the steps one by one. Feline coordination would come to him in
-time.
-
-After an almost totally unlit passage they came to a minute room,
-scarcely more than a cell. The jester struck a light with flint and
-steel to a tallow candle, and sat down on a low straw-covered bed. The
-floor was freezing. Dax jumped up onto a small table, but was instantly
-pushed off it. His instinctive jump up and then down happened so
-quickly that he only realized in retrospect what a feat it was from a
-man's point of view. Yet he had landed clumsily. He was not yet quite a
-cat.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The jester cut off a piece of dubious-looking meat and threw it onto
-the floor. "Wait till it cools, Tybalt," he said, and scratched Dax
-behind the ears. Dax was ravenous, which seemed odd considering
-he'd had dinner half an hour ago. No, of course not. That was eight
-centuries in the future; God knew when Tybalt had last eaten.
-Disregarding the admonition he went at once to the meat, which was
-pork, and burned his mouth. It smelled glorious. And yet he suspected
-that in human form he would have revolted from it.
-
-He looked up at his master. He had a conviction that he belonged to the
-jester.
-
-He studied the gaunt, blood-smeared face. It looked as if someone had
-hit him on the nose. The cap-and-bells, with its attached wimple-shaped
-neck piece, had been laid aside. The gray bobbed hair and bony head
-looked anything but merry. There was, however, a shrewd reflective
-expression in the eyes, and Dax felt that he might well be in an
-advantageous position. Being a jester probably involved a certain
-amount of tact and discretion, not to mention ingenuity, so he resolved
-to try to communicate with him.
-
-But first he must eat. Would the damned pork never cool?
-
-The jester was already eating his, in great gulps, alternating it with
-bits of the evil-looking bread. There was a stoneware pot that smelled
-strongly of musty ale from which he drank every now and then. The
-stench of alcohol in it was like spoiled garbage to Dax. How had he
-ever been able to drink whisky? The thought of it was disgusting. The
-meat was cool enough now--in fact stone cold--and he tore it to pieces
-with his pointed teeth and bolted it unchewed. It was marvelous.
-
-"Well, Tybalt?" the jester said, putting aside his bowl. "No mice
-today? We are not very lucky, we two, are we?" He made a snapping with
-his fingers and Dax jumped up onto the pallet beside him. The old man
-stroked his back gently, but he had a very strong smell. Dax supposed
-he would get used to his new keen senses in time. He hoped it would be
-soon. It was very cold in the jester's cell and he intended to creep
-close at bed time. In the meanwhile how was he going to make known his
-true identity? Obviously speech was impossible; and Morse-code tapping
-with his paw was out of the question.
-
-You wouldn't get very far with mere facial expressions, either. Anyway,
-to most human eyes a cat has but two: contentment and fear. He looked
-around wondering if there were any small movable objects that he could
-arrange into the form of the letters of the alphabet--even a piece of
-string might do. But he feared that the man couldn't read. Anyway there
-was no string to be seen.
-
-Then on the table, which was scarcely more than a high bench, he saw a
-rosary with wooden beads.
-
-He got up and stretched--never in his life had he been able to stretch
-like this--and jumped delicately over onto the table. The jester
-reached out and swept him off it. Not roughly, but it was obvious
-he wasn't allowed there. This time his landing was more skillful.
-He sat on the cold floor and tried to think how he could get hold of
-the beads. If he had them on the floor he could push them into an
-arresting shape. A triangle perhaps, or a figure eight, that would
-catch the jester's eye. He looked up at a movement and saw that the
-man had picked up a small vellum book and was holding it close to his
-face. What luck! he could read after all! But how was he going to make
-letters? Near the sill of the door were some pieces of straw. He went
-over and examined them. He realized that a cat's vision is rather poor
-compared to a man's: quick to notice and interpret motion, but in other
-respects the over-large pupils, meant for nocturnal hunting, gave an
-inferior and uncertain image.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The straw was dirty and smelled of horses, but it ought to do. The
-trouble was that when his face was close enough to pick it up with his
-teeth he could scarcely make it out. He couldn't tell at first whether
-he had one or many in his mouth. He felt that his whiskers should
-tell him, but he was unaccustomed to their use. He padded over to the
-jester's feet and dropped the straws. He backed off and looked at them,
-then with his paw he ineptly pushed them into an A.
-
-He looked up. The jester was lost in his reading.
-
-Dax waited patiently, but the reading went on, and he patted the man's
-foot with carefully sheathed claws. The jester glanced at him, though
-not at the crude, straw A, and smiled.
-
-"What now, Tybalt? More supper? That you will have to catch
-for yourself. See--it's all gone! Share-and-share alike, old
-friend. I weigh eight stone. You're but a scant four pound, so
-correspondingly...." He returned to his reading.
-
-Dax went and picked out some more straw which he brought back and
-attempted to arrange in a B, but gave it up and made an E instead. Then
-he made two crosses and a triangle.
-
-AEXXΔ.
-
-It looked like a fraternity. Then he mewed.
-
-The man looked down again with a faint frown. He didn't seem to notice
-the straw shapes; judging from the way he held the book he was quite
-short-sighted. "Out?" he asked. "Out for a rat, poor Tybalt? Or to lie
-by the embers in the hall?" He shook his head and got up, and went to
-the door to open it. Dax jumped onto the bed and mewed again. The man
-paused with his hand on the latch, looking puzzled. Dax jumped down and
-dabbed with his paw next each letter successively.
-
-"Why, what is this?" the old man said, smiling again. "Playfulness? The
-kitten is back!" He went to the table and picking up the bauble, made a
-feint with the stuffed bladder over Dax's head. Dax dodged it irritably
-and mewed again; three times in quick succession.
-
-This caught the attention of the jester, who laid down the bauble.
-"Ah! A Tritheist! Will it get you a mouse, Tybalt? Will it keep off
-evil spirits? It's said the imps love cats--so beware of moonlight and
-mistletoe!" He picked Dax up and stroked him.
-
-It was infuriating.
-
-Dax was aware that the Medieval mind was very different from the
-modern, but there must be some meeting point. Too bad this wasn't
-Friar Roger Bacon--he'd have got his attention in no time. But he was
-a hundred years too early. His immediate problem was to seek out some
-person who had enough imagination and curiosity to take notice of a cat
-who behaved not as a cat. If he had only known this was going to happen!
-
-He tried mewing again, but the jester only smiled, so he mewed once,
-then twice and then three times. The jester shook his head admiringly.
-Like most of his contemporaries the world for him was filled with
-wonders. It was an age of faith, not of speculation.
-
-A pale moon showed through a narrow slit in the wall, which was
-unglazed, and he became aware that the light from the tallow dip was
-yellow, and the jester's costume red and green.
-
-So it was all nonsense about cats having no color vision--anyway,
-hadn't some woman in California disproved that? Against the moon he
-could see the black outline of full-grown leaves on the nearby trees
-and knew it was not yet winter but autumn. When winter came in earnest,
-everyone from scullion to the lord of the manor would bed down in the
-Great Hall where the fire was. But the stonework of the castle was
-cold, and he felt himself getting drowsy.
-
-The old jester put down his book, crossed himself and blew out the
-light. Dax could hear him burrowing into the straw of his bed, and
-nestled beside him.
-
-
- III
-
-When he woke it was not quite dark, and a faint gray dawn came into the
-cell.
-
-The jester was snoring. Somewhere Dax thought he heard a rat. His
-muscles tensed, and he found himself on his feet by instinct--the idea
-of a rat was surprisingly attractive and he was hungry again. The noise
-stopped. He remembered that he had been having a dream--a strange
-nightmare of chasing after Mallison and catching him, and tearing
-him ... with his claws and teeth.
-
-A rusty bell started ringing somewhere in the castle.
-
-The jester snorted, sat up and looked out of the narrow window. Then
-he lit the candle and said his prayers, kneeling on his bed. Dax
-stretched, and the old man cleaned his teeth with a splinter and took
-a draught from the ale pot. It had a sour stench, but Dax found that
-he no longer minded--there were so many conflicting smells around, the
-most interesting of which had been the rat. A new, more immediately
-hopeful one, was of cooking that drifted up from below. It seemed that
-these people ate meat for their breakfast. And they liked it early.
-
-"Come along, Tybalt," the jester said, putting on his headdress, and
-went to the door. Dax slipped through quickly so as not to get his tail
-caught as the jester closed it. They went down the winding stairs again.
-
-At the bottom they came upon another cat--a big red tom--who on
-catching sight of Dax fluffed his tail and laid back his ears,
-spitting. Dax had a momentary impulse to see if communication was
-possible with him, but the big cat yowled and fled down the hallway.
-
-"Ah, Tybalt," the old man said. "Jesters and cats! Even their own kind
-spits at them!" As they got to the kitchen Dax saw the two hounds that
-had growled at him the night before. He was glad that they were now
-leashed and in the charge of a boy in a short woolen surcoat.
-
-But when they saw Dax the boy was unable to hold them back, and they
-jerked their leashes from his hand and came running and barking. Dax
-was terrified. He bolted ahead of them along the vaulted corridor and
-into the Great Hall, but came face to face with another brace of hounds
-whose ears pricked up at the sound. Dax without any conscious thought
-dodged sideways and ran up the tapestry on the wall.
-
-His sharp claws had good foothold on the tough canvas backing. But at
-the top he almost lost his grip, and scarcely managed to get over onto
-the musicians' gallery from which the tapestry hung. He crouched there,
-trembling, while the din below increased. He could hear men shouting at
-the dogs, and the jester's voice calling him. He mewed loudly for help.
-
- * * * * *
-
-After a while he heard the old man's footsteps on the wooden ladder.
-He was picked up and comforted, but he was so dizzy with fear that he
-could hardly see. The jester seemed to think he was calm, and put him
-on his shoulder and went down the ladder again. The hounds had been
-taken away. But Dax stayed where he was with his eyes shut, holding on
-tight.
-
-"Well, Trice!" Dax opened his eyes and saw the lord of the manor
-glowering at the jester, and then at him. So Trice was the jester's
-name. An odd one. The Earl stood with his hands on his hips and seemed
-irritated rather than angry. "What's this I hear? The cat runs at my
-hounds and tries to scratch!"
-
-"Oh, no, sir," Trice said. "It was the other way! They ran at him!
-Tybalt has never scratched!"
-
-"Scratched or no, I wish you'd give him to one of the villagers," the
-Earl said. "I don't want the hounds upset, and Lady Godwina doesn't
-like cats. Besides, he'll ruin the tapestry."
-
-"But, my lord, he catches the rats! And he's my ... friend."
-
-"The dogs catch the rats," the Earl said shortly. "Give him away."
-
-"Well, my lord, the mice...."
-
-"The red tom gets them."
-
-The old man put up a hand to Dax protectively. "But, noble lord, what
-would I do without my pet?" Dax glanced at the tired face next his and
-saw tears in the eyes, but he had a determined look. "If he cannot
-stay, I ... I must go, too!"
-
-The Earl opened his eyes at this, but he smiled. "I see you are loyal,
-old Trice," he said. "I hope you are as loyal to me!"
-
-The Earl turned away. Trice put Dax on the floor and started back
-towards the kitchens.
-
-"Come, Tybalt," he said. "Or there'll be none left for us."
-
-Dax wished he were still on the shoulder, and stayed close to the
-jester's feet. Things were not going well at all. It had become as much
-a problem of survival as of research and communication, but when they
-got to the kitchen and the hounds were nowhere about, he decided that
-perhaps the two problems were inter-related. After a meal of scraps he
-felt more secure. Not seeing his master he went to look for him in the
-Great Hall.
-
-When he got there he saw that the Earl and his wife and retainers were
-eating boiled meat. He remembered that his tutor in Middle English had
-said the main meal in Medieval times was eaten in the morning. The
-four hounds were squabbling over bones that were thrown to them on the
-rush-covered flagstones under the trestle-board, and didn't notice him.
-Trice was not to be seen. After a while the boy in the woolen surcoat
-was told to take them out. He fastened leashes to their collars and led
-them through a large doorway in the far wall. Dax looked at the Earl:
-he had a fairly intelligent face, and he had shown forbearance towards
-Trice, so he thought he would make another try.
-
-The Lady Godwina got up unsteadily from her chair and left the hall--on
-the way to the lady's solar, Dax guessed; and he padded across to the
-Earl. When he got to the foot of the high-backed chair--it looked like
-a detached choir-stall from a gothic church--he patted the Earl's foot.
-
-The Earl looked down at him and frowned.
-
-Dax patted the foot again; three times. Then he mewed three times, and
-repeated the patting. The Earl blinked and got up, backing away. Dax
-mewed three times again, and the Earl crossed himself.
-
-"Saints preserve my soul! What have we here?"
-
- * * * * *
-
-Dax turned around three times, getting his hind legs crossed and
-nearly falling down. "Send for Trice at once!" the Earl shouted. "His
-cat Tybalt has a fit! Careful!" he said to a serving man who had come
-forward with outstretched hands. "Take care you are not bitten! He is
-unclean!"
-
-Dax backed away and ran to the open door, and out.
-
-There was a brilliant sun and he could see nothing at first--and when
-he did it was blurred, owing to the vertical shape of his contracted
-pupils. It was much warmer than the night before, and the leaves
-were brown on the trees. There was no courtyard and gateway, with
-drawbridge and moat beyond, as he had rather expected. Instead he was
-on cobblestones, surrounded at intervals by small houses, with trees
-between them. The village was built against the castle, somewhat in
-the French manner, but the houses were wretched affairs of mud-daubed
-reeds on wooden framing: hardly better than hovels. Only a few had
-more than one story. Smoke was coming up from every chimney, and the
-men were evidently on their way to work in the fields. They carried
-crude-looking farm implements and were dressed in coarse homespun
-with their legs padded and cross-gartered. They were a sorry lot:
-blank-faced and half starved.
-
-Dax heard footsteps behind him and turned.
-
-A young man with blond short hair and a Norman nose had come out of
-the doorway. He looked at Dax with amused curiosity, and squatted
-down, putting out a hand. At this proximity his eyes showed bloodshot
-and there was a beery smell. He said something that Dax could not
-understand--it sounded vaguely like a kind of French, but Dax had not
-studied medieval Norman. Still, it had a kindly sound. Dax rubbed
-against the hand. This man, at least, did not share the Earl's
-diagnosis. What was his position in the Earl's household? Not his
-son--he looked too unlike him. Would he be his clerk? He had a clerkly
-look--what is it in a face that makes it seem scholarly? And his hands
-were more fit for holding a pen than a mattock or a sword.
-
-Well, give it another try.
-
-Dax wished he could make an ingratiating sound, and found he was
-purring. He looked around for something he could use as a signal;
-mewing and tapping seemed to be misunderstood. A few yards away the
-cobblestones gave place to dirt, and he started towards it. It might do
-for a blackboard. He looked back, but the clerk had not moved.
-
-Dax wondered how a cat might beckon, lacking a forefinger. He waited
-until he caught the young man's eye, and tried to beckon with his
-head but it had no results. He continued on to the patch of dirt and
-scratched a triangle, and to his relief the clerk got up and came to
-him. When he was standing over him, Dax scratched two words in Latin:
-_homo sum_, and looked up.
-
-The clerk was staring with his mouth open.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Good, thought Dax: Latin was the _lingua Franca_ of medieval Europe,
-and went on with his scratching. _Humani nihil a me alienum_--
-
-There was a gasp and he looked up again. The young man had closed his
-eyes and had the back of his hand against his forehead. He turned and
-walked to the castle door, holding his head. Dax sat down in disgust.
-A Twelfth Century hangover, indeed! A shadow fell across him and he
-turned.
-
-Three villagers: two men, and a woman in a hood were behind him.
-They had an expectant air, and, realizing that they were doubtless
-illiterate, he drew a large five-pointed star.
-
-The effect on them was volcanic.
-
-The woman screeched and threw her skirt over her head. The men crossed
-themselves and one of them turned and ran. The other slashed at Dax
-with a bill-hook and then, shouting, "Bewitched! Bewitched!" he, too,
-ran. The bill-hook missed Dax, thanks to his instinctive leap to one
-side, but the woman continued her noise and more people came out of
-the cottages, armed with farming implements and sticks. Everyone was
-shouting and offering advice. The main thread of their discourse was:
-Possessed! Possessed! Kill it! The Devil Incarnate!
-
-Dax was hemmed in on three sides. He started back for the castle, but
-the big doorway was filled with onlookers, one of whom stepped forward,
-aiming a crossbow. There was a clank followed by a hissing in the air,
-and the bolt thumped into the ground next to him. The bowman cursed
-and began to wind up his bow with a crannikin. Dax's fur stood out
-all over him and he made a mad dash towards a group of women who had
-nothing in their hands but besoms of birch twigs. It was a fortunate
-choice.
-
-Two or three women made abortive swats at him and the others backed
-away, leaving a clear path. In front of him was an open space and a
-tall tree.
-
-Almost before he knew it he was near its top and the whole village was
-milling around near its base, looking up with red angry faces.
-
-"Fire the tree!" someone shouted.
-
-"T'won't burn. It's an elm!"
-
-"Well, _I_ shan't climb it!"
-
-"I won't have my tree burn!" an indignant voice yelled, but was drowned
-out. Small children were jumping up and down in excitement, and some
-teen-age boys threw stones but none of them reached him. Dax spat
-furiously. Teen-agers were the same through the ages!
-
-"Cut it down, then!"
-
-"T'will fall on my house!" (A woman's voice.)
-
-The shouting died down, and Dax hung on till his claws ached. There
-seemed to be a conference going on. The castle appeared to have lost
-interest, which relieved him; if there was to be any more crossbow
-shooting he stood little chance. After a short while the subject of
-the conference became apparent as men began arriving with bundles of
-dry sticks and faggots. To Dax's horror these were piled about the
-trunk and set alight. Then, as the flames began to rise, green boughs
-were added and a thick cloud of suffocating smoke came up.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Desperately he tried to find escape. One of the elm's long branches
-reached out almost over the roof of one of the houses, but it meant
-climbing down into the heart of the choking cloud. Beyond the house
-he suddenly caught sight of his master, Trice, who waved to him
-beseechingly. It gave him courage. Holding his breath, he began to back
-down the trunk until he felt the branch under him. Then he twisted
-round and ran along it with his heart pounding. A cat has small lungs
-for its size and holding his breath was a torment--but at last he was
-free of the smoke, and he took a breath of clean air.
-
-The roof seemed to be within reach, and the crowd had temporarily lost
-sight of him in the smoke.
-
-He could hear the jester's voice, but for some reason he couldn't
-understand him--it sounded like gibberish. He crept out until the
-thinning branch began to bend and, just as shouts went up from the more
-observant villagers, he leapt.
-
-He landed on the thatch--and almost lost his hold, but he was just
-able to scramble to the rooftree, and ran along the ridge. There was
-more shouting. Either these ones spoke a dialect or the excitement had
-put Middle English out of his head: he could barely understand them.
-Something about Widow Aelthreda's cottage--something about a witch....
-
-He slithered down the far side of the thatching and landed on a window
-box of late purple daisies. The parchment-covered window next him was
-open and he slipped inside just as the crowd turned the corner.
-
-He found himself in a small, bare upstairs room, insufficiently lit
-by the single window, but he could easily see into the most profound
-shadows. Under a chest in the corner was a mouse, frozen with terror.
-Dax was still out of breath, but he crept toward it, and as it ran out
-along the baseboard he intercepted it. He ate it--all.
-
-As he washed his face he wondered with diminishing nervousness what all
-the shouting and noise outside meant.
-
-In a little while he heard footsteps and a woman came into the room.
-When she saw him she made some noises with her mouth, and Dax ran to
-her. She picked him up and began to stroke him very pleasantly. Then
-there were more noises from below and presently there were a lot of
-people in the room. The woman dropped him for some reason.
-
-He ran under a big, low wooden thing, but a big iron thing was pushed
-at him. It had a sharp point, and he had to come out. This time the
-man with the bill-hook did not miss, but the pain lasted only for an
-instant.
-
-And ... and ... he was more conscious of the sound made by the
-hypodermic as it fell on the floor and broke.
-
-He looked at it with annoyance, and felt the slight prick on his arm.
-He got up and went to his bathroom, where he dabbed it with antiseptic.
-He saw that he'd better shave before going to the meeting. Well, the
-drug hadn't worked. What a waste of time. What a pity.
-
-Perhaps a larger dose? He must experiment some more.
-
-He started shaving.
-
-
- IV
-
-When he got to the principal's office--a little late, which was
-not entirely by accident--he found that Mallison and a few of his
-fellow-students were sitting opposite the desk in hard chairs.
-
-The principal behind it gave Dax a reprimanding look, and then one at
-his watch. On one side of him were a group of teachers and a member
-of the school board who Dax remembered was Mr. Lightstone's especial
-crony. On the other were Mrs. Lightstone--a dour but subservient
-partner to her husband--and an empty chair.
-
-The principal pointed to the chair and said, "We have been waiting
-for your arrival to begin, Mr. Dax." He turned to Mallison as Dax sat
-down, and said, "You are, I believe, what is known as a 'hep-cat'?" He
-waited but Mallison said nothing. His face was very white and he looked
-sullen. "Well, answer me, sir!" the principal said loudly.
-
-"You didn't ask me anything," the boy said in a low voice. "You told
-me."
-
-The principal pushed his lips out and breathed deeply. He took
-something from his pocket and held it up. Dax saw it was the packet of
-alleged heroin.
-
-"Did you throw this out of the window of Mr. Dax's class room?"
-
-The boy looked at it incomprehendingly and shook his head.
-
-"Do you know what it is? Have you seen this packet before?"
-
-"No, Mr. Lightstone...."
-
-"You sound uncertain. Think carefully, Mallison." The principal put the
-packet on his desk and unfolded it. Everyone bent forward and looked at
-it--including Mallison, who shook his head again.
-
-Dax leaned across Mrs. Lightstone and whispered to her husband, "Did
-you have it analyzed?"
-
-The principal shook his head impatiently. "Not yet! There was no one in
-the Chemistry Department!" He cleared his throat importantly. "Well?
-What have you to say?"
-
-Mallison apparently had nothing to say. He swallowed and looked at
-one of the boys next him. Mr. Lightstone leaned back in his chair and
-turned to address the group on his right--the school board man in
-particular. "This," he said, tapping the packet, "was thrown out of a
-window of the physics class room today. These are the boys that sit
-next those windows. I have every reason to suspect Mallison."
-
-The group nodded. Dax realized that they had been briefed in advance.
-The boy Mallison had certainly a sulky and uncooperative air. He seemed
-the epitome of juvenile delinquency on the defensive, and yet....
-
- * * * * *
-
-"You," the principal said to the boys, "are a little band of
-trouble-makers. You cut classes, you stay up late and go to what I
-believe you call juke-joints. I have heard reports of your riding in
-hot-rods!" He paused significantly.
-
-"None of us here's got a car," Mallison said in a flat voice. He was
-definitely sneering now. "I've never even _seen_ a real drag-race!"
-
-Mr. Lightstone blinked. The word was unfamiliar to him, but it had a
-disreputable ring to it. "And I suppose you've never taken narcotics?"
-
-There was a dead silence. Mallison clamped his mouth shut, and his face
-became wooden.
-
-Mr. Lightstone addressed the boy next him. "Have _you_ ever seen any of
-the boys use this?" He tapped the packet again. "Did you see Mallison
-throw it out of the window? You sit behind him!"
-
-The boy looked blank and glanced at Mallison. "No, sir," he said.
-
-"But you couldn't have missed seeing him!"
-
-"Excuse me a minute," Dax said. "These boys aren't a _band_ exactly.
-They just happen to sit next the windows."
-
-Mr. Lightstone looked offended but resourceful. "They picked those
-seats themselves. That's what a clique does. It--"
-
-"I assign all the pupils to their desks," Dax said, and felt he was
-turning pink.
-
-The principal took this in his stride by ignoring it. "And _you_," he
-said to the boy on Mallison's other side. "What have you to say?"
-
-The boy frowned and stuttered.
-
-Dax was beginning to feel annoyed although he didn't know exactly why.
-For one thing, he had let himself seem to be defending Mallison. It
-was his craze for accuracy, of course. "I don't understand why the
-parents of these boys aren't here," he was surprised to hear himself
-say. "It seems to me they ought to have some kind of defense counsel if
-there is going to be a trial."
-
-The principal looked at him steadily. "Would _you_ care to act in that
-capacity?"
-
-Dax felt that he was getting redder than ever. "Have you had a doctor
-examine Mallison for ... for the effects of narcotics?" he said.
-"Where are these policemen you said you spoke to? Shouldn't they be
-informed of your suspicions, instead of holding a kind of star chamber
-inquisition? It's ... it's _medieval_!"
-
-Mr. Lightstone glared at him in astonishment.
-
-Dax had a sudden thought. "The chemistry lab is right over my class
-room," he said. "Why couldn't the packet have fallen from there?"
-
-"What would _they_ be doing with heroin?"
-
-"But we don't know yet that--"
-
-The principal interrupted him and swept his arm in a gesture of
-all-inclusive condemnation. "We will in good time! But if you have
-never seen guilt before, you see it now!" He looked at the startled
-young faces with abhorrence. "Look at them!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-Dax had a curious and violent revulsion, although he hadn't followed
-the line of reasoning in Lightstone's last remark. In fact, he
-realized that he hadn't really heard the words. But the principal's
-angry face made his hackles rise.
-
-The principal had a menacing look. He was the most dangerous looking
-thing he had ever seen. A convulsive shudder went through all of Dax's
-muscles, and he leapt--straight across Mrs. Lightstone's lap, who fell
-over backwards, screaming. Everyone was making loud, garbled noises,
-and he was on top of Lightstone, scratching and biting.
-
-He heard himself give a loud, warlike and triumphant yowl.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tybalt, by Stephen Barr
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-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tybalt, by Stephen Barr
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll
-have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
-this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Tybalt
-
-Author: Stephen Barr
-
-Release Date: January 5, 2020 [EBook #61110]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TYBALT ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
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-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="331" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>TYBALT</h1>
-
-<h2>BY STEPHEN BARR</h2>
-
-<p class="ph1">Adolescence is a perilous time&mdash;whether<br />
-it is the adolescence of a man,<br />
-or of the whole race of Man!</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>The physics teacher, Howard Dax, dismissed the class. He picked up
-a felt-covered block and erased the diagrams he had drawn on the
-blackboard. He noticed with annoyance that the lines were shaky, and in
-one place was an irregular star where the chalk had broken because of
-his exasperation at his pupils&mdash;or more exactly, one particular pupil.</p>
-
-<p>When the blackboard was clean to the corners&mdash;Howard Dax was a very
-precise man&mdash;he turned around and saw that the particular pupil was
-still sitting at his desk. He was a thin boy of fifteen, called
-Mallison, whose dark, wavy hair was too long. It rose in a kind of
-breaker over his forehead, and he had sideburns cut to a point. His
-expression was neither sullen nor impertinent, but Dax had always
-had the feeling that Mallison was concealing intense boredom and only
-listened to him perforce. He was sure that the narrow, rather handsome
-face was on the verge of sneering. But there had never been quite
-anything that he could put his finger on. The boy was definitely not
-good at physics, yet he wasn't at the bottom of the class. The thing
-was that he gave the impression of being above average intelligence. He
-obviously could do very much better if he wanted to. Dax was convinced
-that he despised physics, and school in general.</p>
-
-<p>"Yes?" Dax said. "What is it?" He tried to make his voice sound natural
-and casual.</p>
-
-<p>Mallison stared at him impassively for a moment. Then he said, "You
-don't like me, Mr. Dax, do you?"</p>
-
-<p>"My dear boy, I neither like you nor dislike you," Dax said. He could
-feel his hands beginning again to tremble slightly. Damn adrenalin! "I
-am merely trying to teach you elementary physics. Why do you ask?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why do you give me such low grades?" Mallison said, but with no sense
-of urgent curiosity.</p>
-
-<p>Howard Dax thought that the boy's manner was altogether too adult. He
-didn't expect deference from a modern teenager, but neither did he like
-to be spoken to in such a man-to-man way. No; come to think of it,
-man-to-man wasn't quite the phrase. It was off-hand. And yet it was
-artificial: Mallison never spoke in this way to his contemporaries. He
-usually talked like a ... what was it? Hipster?</p>
-
-<p>"I give students the grades that in my opinion they deserve," Dax said.
-"In your case they are low because I don't think you're trying."</p>
-
-<p>"I am trying," Mallison said, then added, "sir."</p>
-
-<p>"You are," Dax said. "Very." He thought the remark was rather neat,
-but the boy looked at him without any change of expression. Why was he
-here? What did he want to say? "I must confess," Dax went on, "that I
-am surprised at your interest in grades. I should have thought that
-rock-and-roll was more your style. That and ... er ... racing around
-at night in a fast car!" He felt that he was sneering, and made his
-face blank.</p>
-
-<p>"I'm too young for a driver's license," Mallison said.</p>
-
-<p>"But old enough to pull yourself together and do some real work. You
-could do much better in class. You're not stupid."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The boy said nothing and continued to stare at him without expression.</p>
-
-<p>"When I see signs of an improved attitude," Dax said, "and a little
-more work, I shall mark you accordingly. One gets the impression
-usually that your mind is on other things. Things like jazz records."</p>
-
-<p>"Didn't you listen to jazz when you were young, Mr. Dax?"</p>
-
-<p>Howard Dax at thirty-nine hardly thought of himself as old. The boy was
-not being exactly fresh, but he had a sort of polite tactlessness. It
-was absurd, but he felt that Mallison had the upper hand, somehow.</p>
-
-<p>Dax had an older brother who had been a lieutenant in World War II,
-and he had described to him an occasion on which he had interviewed
-an elderly staff sergeant. The staff sergeant in civilian life had
-been his brother's boss. Although his manner was scrupulously correct,
-there remained an atmosphere of his peacetime ascendancy. Howard Dax
-sympathized with his brother. There was nothing actually wrong with
-Mallison's manner, but the pupil had the master on the defensive.</p>
-
-<p>He decided to ignore Mallison's question. He had no idea how the young
-nowadays felt about the subject of early Benny Goodman or the emergence
-of Barrel House. Why was he even bothering?</p>
-
-<p>"The point at issue," he said with asperity, "is not whether I used to
-listen to jazz twenty-five years ago, but whether you are going to pay
-attention in class <i>now</i>. I admit you manage to scrape through in the
-tests, but this morning, for example, you acted as if you were half
-asleep!"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm sorry. I was very tired." Mallison did look pale.</p>
-
-<p>"I suppose you were up half the night&mdash;cutting a rug."</p>
-
-<p>Mallison winced at the outdated jargon but he merely shook his head.
-There were firm steps in the corridor, and the school principal marched
-in.</p>
-
-<p>Mallison stood up; Dax was still standing. The principal had a small
-piece of folded paper in his hand, and did not immediately notice the
-boy, whose desk was near the back row and next the open windows. He
-went straight to the platform and put the folded paper on Dax's desk.
-He nodded curtly and glanced towards the windows, and saw Mallison
-sitting there for the first time.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>"I thought you were alone," he said, turning to Dax.</p>
-
-<p>"You may go," Dax said to the boy. "That will be all. Remember what
-I said." He looked at the folded paper and then at the principal
-questioningly. "Yes, Mr. Lightstone?"</p>
-
-<p>The principal was a short white-haired man with a dogged expression.
-He turned again to make sure the boy had left and said. "I want you to
-look at this, Dax." He tapped the folded paper, which had been made
-into a sort of envelope, with its ends tucked in. Dax bent to examine
-it.</p>
-
-<p>"Pick it up, man! Open it," the principal said, and came around and sat
-in the teacher's chair. "Be careful not to spill it!"</p>
-
-<p>Dax picked up the little packet and opened it. Inside was a teaspoonful
-of white powder. "What is it?" he asked.</p>
-
-<p>"That," said the principal, "is something for our friends upstairs
-in the chemistry department to determine. I found it myself, in the
-flowerbed right outside these windows!"</p>
-
-<p>Howard Dax looked puzzled. "I don't think I understand&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"If I don't miss my bet," said the principal, "that's heroin!" He
-jerked his head towards the windows. "And somebody threw it out of
-this classroom!"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, I don't think it's heroin, Mr. Lightstone," Dax said. "Heroin has
-a distinct glitter, and this seems&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"I had the impression you were a physicist, not a chemist," the
-principal said. "Besides, the police told us last week that they
-believe a gang of narcotics pushers&mdash;I think they called them&mdash;are
-operating in the neighborhood! What else could it be? I've been on the
-lookout for something of this sort."</p>
-
-<p>There was a silence. Dax didn't know what to say.</p>
-
-<p>He himself was very tired, he had been working late every evening. He
-had three different tasks that occupied every minute of his waking
-hours: his job as teacher being the least important although the most
-essential. The other two were perhaps visionary, but they might lead to
-something more exciting than retiring on a pension.</p>
-
-<p>"Well?" Mr. Lightstone was impatient&mdash;his usual condition. "Have you
-any ideas? It has been my experience that drug-taking and juvenile
-delinquency go together." This was not strictly true as Mr. Lightstone
-had never knowingly seen a drug-taker, but he did read the papers.</p>
-
-<p>"I suppose there is a certain amount of delinquency here," Howard Dax
-said uncertainly, "but <i>narcotics</i>...."</p>
-
-<p>"Wake up, man!" the principal said. "You look half asleep! This is a
-serious matter. I found the stuff right outside these windows! You must
-have some idea of who might be involved. Which are the unruly ones? Who
-sits next the windows?"</p>
-
-<p>Dax glanced at the desk recently left by Mallison. Mallison? One
-couldn't exactly call him unruly.... Yet he had the earmarks of a type
-he detested and instinctively mistrusted. He even feared him a little,
-though not perhaps for reasons of which he was quite aware.</p>
-
-<p>"Who was that boy that just left?" The principal had noticed the
-direction of Dax's glance. "Mallison, wasn't it?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, but the packet might just as well have been thrown from one of
-the paths outside."</p>
-
-<p>"There's no path near here. You know that perfectly well," said the
-principal. "There's a wide stretch of grass beyond the flower bed and
-no one's allowed to walk on it! I've had my eye on that boy...."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Howard Dax thought this over. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put
-such a thing past the young smart-alec. Hoodlumism doesn't necessarily
-advertise itself in the classroom.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at the principal. The man had a nerve to accuse <i>him</i> of
-seeming half asleep! Working in his private lab after dinner and then
-at his desk until all hours, struggling to learn Middle English&mdash;or
-rather, transitional Anglo-Saxon. He had done well at English lit at
-college, even though majoring in science, and Chaucer had come fairly
-easy to him. But Twelfth Century speech&mdash;and that was what he had
-to learn&mdash;was something else again. Chaucer himself couldn't have
-understood it. He wondered what young Mallison and his hipster friends
-would think if they knew his secret occupations. He could just imagine
-the sneering.</p>
-
-<p>"Well, you <i>could</i> be right, I suppose," he said. "He's not my&mdash;shall
-I say?&mdash;favorite pupil."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm glad you think I could be right," Mr. Lightstone said. "I intend
-to hold an investigation. At the first possible opportunity. This very
-evening, in fact. At my office, and I shall have young Mallison brought
-before us. I shall expect you." He got up and strutted out of the class
-room.</p>
-
-<p>After a few moments Howard Dax followed him. Outside, on his way to the
-gate, he passed Mallison, who was standing talking to another boy who
-had a similar haircut, but was unfamiliar to the physics teacher. He
-thought he was not a pupil of this school. They both became silent as
-he drew near them, looking at him without any expression. Dax wondered
-if narcotics could be responsible for Mallison's pallor.</p>
-
-<p>After dinner Dax went into his little lab, which was actually the
-kitchenette he never used. On the table and sink was some chemical
-apparatus. The principal's remark had been ill-chosen since Dax at
-college had started with chemistry as his major and had only switched
-to physics in his senior year. He had also become interested in
-genetics, and it was this all-around interest in the sciences that had
-perhaps militated against him. Nowadays one ought to specialize.</p>
-
-<p>Well, he was specializing now.</p>
-
-<p>In an evaporating dish in the sink were some dark brown crystals
-that his landlady would have taken for Damerara sugar, but which had
-a considerably more complex formula. They would have lent a rather
-odd flavor to Indian pudding. The logic which had given rise to this
-formula was not merely complex but revolutionary. It involved the
-concept of reversibility of entropy&mdash;the application of which was
-itself unprecedented.</p>
-
-<p>There were, Howard Dax was aware, certain aspects of germ chemistry
-that defied description in terms of classical and mechanistic theory;
-details that seemed to require the inversion of Time's arrow. To say
-that a physical process was "non-reversible" usually implied the
-presence of the probability factor. But that didn't seem to be the
-case here. There was the suggestion of prophecy. Or else that time was
-flowing backwards. Or ... was it that something flowed backward through
-time?</p>
-
-<p>Then there was the fact that the germ plasm was immortal. Not
-indestructible, for the overwhelming majority of zygotes and gametes
-died; but if one disregarded the soma, all living germ cells had been
-alive since the beginning of life. After terrific work, none of which
-would have seemed quite orthodox to his colleagues, Dax had arrived at
-the end of theory and the beginning of practical application&mdash;at the
-taking-off point&mdash;the countdown.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Lying on the drainboard near the evaporating dish was a hypodermic
-syringe.</p>
-
-<p>If he were to dissolve the dark brown crystals and inject the solution
-into his veins, Dax believed that whatever it was that impeded this
-time-reversal would be neutralized. His consciousness&mdash;not his body,
-his somatic cells&mdash;would travel back along the unbroken line of his
-identity as a germinal continuity. Back to the extent that the effect
-of the chemical would allow.</p>
-
-<p>He would then be in the body of one of his ancestors. Not spread among
-them all, but following the line of greatest genetic valence to one
-individual: living in the Twelfth Century A. D. Probably, but not
-certainly, somewhere in England, since most of his ancestors came from
-there.</p>
-
-<p>Of course the time might be wrong. He had no way of making a precise
-determination. He had experimented with a rabbit, but after the soft
-little beast's eyes glazed over in unconsciousness it had immediately
-come to. The time taken during its visit to the purlieus of its remote
-and unknown forebears was of no duration in the present. And it had at
-once attacked him and bitten him savagely.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed curious that an ancestral rabbit at a period not so very far
-back from a biological point of view should have a spirit so foreign to
-the rabbits of today. Perhaps the drug had overshot its mark....</p>
-
-<p>What if that were to happen in his case? Wouldn't it perhaps take him
-to some earlier, non-human form and then, as it were, rebound to the
-precise moment in history that the strength of the drug indicated? A
-man is not a rabbit. But suppose he found himself not in the body of a
-Twelfth Century Englishman&mdash;a risky enough situation&mdash;but hanging by
-his tail from a tree in Java? How long before the hypothetical rebound
-to the time of the Plantagenets?</p>
-
-<p>Howard Dax was too tired to concentrate on the problem: it was probably
-moonshine. The rabbit had been frightened, not atavistic.</p>
-
-<p>The cumulative effect of overwork and irritation at the boy Mallison
-and the principal's manner had made him reckless and impatient. He
-made a sudden decision to stop worrying about precautions and take the
-plunge ... now.</p>
-
-<p>He had plenty of time before the meeting. The trip to the past would
-have no duration in the present. He measured out an amount of distilled
-water and stirred the brown crystals into it with a glass rod. Then he
-filled the hypodermic and went into his bed-sittingroom.</p>
-
-<p>He went to his desk and took a last look at a list of early English
-irregular verbs and lay down on his sofa, rolling up his sleeve.</p>
-
-<p>He hardly felt the prick of the needle but he realized that the rather
-painful bump on his forehead had distracted his attention from it.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at the thing he had bumped against. It was wooden and round
-in section, about as thick as his neck, and rose at a slight deviation
-from the vertical to a circular platform that was supported at other
-places by two more wooden uprights. Beyond and above was an immensely
-lofty roof of dark timbers. Far to the sides were stone walls.</p>
-
-<p>He looked down to discover that the cold floor under him was also of
-stone, covered here and there with dry yellowish reeds. Then he saw
-that he was on all fours.</p>
-
-<p>Instead of hands he had black, furry paws.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph1">II</p>
-
-<p>Trice, the jester, was getting old. So, he feared, were his jokes.</p>
-
-<p>His joints were stiff and he could no longer do the amusing contortions
-that used so to entertain the Earl and his little court. In fact, the
-Earl was getting on, too. He looked as though he was falling asleep in
-his chair. Next to him the Lady Godwina was mumbling and giggling&mdash;not
-at poor Trice's feeble quips, but as a result of too much blackberry
-wine mixed with mead. She hiccoughed loudly and the Earl opened his
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>He glanced at the Lady Godwina with bored distaste, and then at Trice
-the jester. Would that the fellow would cease his tedious clowning and
-go to the kitchens! Yet he hesitated to get rid of him altogether.
-Having a jester at all in these days was a mark of prestige, and he
-didn't know where he'd get a replacement.</p>
-
-<p>Now that King Henry was dead he had fortified his castle like the other
-barons. Since feudal pomp had become the fashion he hung onto its
-trappings&mdash;poor old Trice was one of them. But, ye gods, what stale
-jokes! Well, at least they seemed to please the younger serving men,
-who must be too young to remember them.</p>
-
-<p>Trice was unhappily aware that his humor was missing the mark. He fell
-back on the one thing that never failed to make them laugh. He swung
-his bauble and hit himself on the nose. He staggered back with comic
-terror. "Hold on!" he cried to an imaginary assailant. "Not so hard!"
-He struck himself again, harder. "Stop! Or I shall appeal to my noble
-lord for protection!"</p>
-
-<p>The Earl smiled faintly; he didn't want to disappoint the old man.
-Besides, his nose was bleeding. It really was rather funny. Curious
-about these people: they had almost no sense of pain. Trice, seeing the
-smile, hit himself again and again, and feeling the blood, he smeared
-it over his face in fantastic curlicues. The Earl closed his eyes
-again, and Trice caught the eye of the clerk, a young man who had come
-from Normandy. He was sneering. The Lady Godwina was singing a little
-tune to herself, and paid no attention.</p>
-
-<p>The old jester shrugged, and turned towards the archway to the kitchens
-and offices. Better have supper and go to bed&mdash;his head ached and his
-nose hurt badly, although the bleeding had stopped. Next to a wooden
-stool he caught sight of his cat, Tybalt, staring at him fixedly.
-Tybalt. His only friend! he thought to himself. But as he passed him,
-the cat, instead of following him out with tail erect to share the
-jester's wretched supper, backed cringing under the stool and turned
-his head as he went by, keeping his staring eyes on him. Most unusual.
-Very un-catlike.</p>
-
-<p>"Here! Tybalt!" Trice said, but the cat backed further away.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Just before he realized what had happened to him, Dax recognized that
-the big wooden thing that loomed over him was a stool.</p>
-
-<p>Maybe it was this realization&mdash;and the sight of his own paws&mdash;that gave
-him an idea of his size, and on looking back at the rest of himself
-he knew that he was a cat. Something had gone wrong. The flashback
-and subsequent rebound must have taken him far into the dim mammalian
-past, but for what duration he could not tell. The transition had been
-unconscious. At least he did not remember it. But to judge by the style
-of the round stone arches of the hall he was now in&mdash;and the stonework
-looked brand new&mdash;the ultimate effect had been according to plan, and
-this was the early Middle Ages.</p>
-
-<p>A movement caught his eye and he saw it was the cavorting of an
-enormous man, dressed in gigantic tattered motley.</p>
-
-<p>No. He wasn't enormous; it was just the unfamiliar scale of things. The
-man was saying something in a booming voice, and Dax began to recognize
-it as a form of transitional early English&mdash;but with an admixture of
-Norman French and some pure Anglo-Saxon phrases. And what an accent!
-If this man was typical, how wrong modern research and learned
-speculation were! He would have some interesting things to tell the
-experts&mdash;particularly his tutor&mdash;when he got back.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>When he got back.... That was supposed to be in three days
-approximately, when the inhibiting effect of the chemical would wear
-off. Then he would, he hoped, be swept back to his own time and his
-own body. But he was a cat. This was disastrous! How could he speak to
-people? He could understand them fairly well, but a cat's bucal cavity
-and vocal apparatus were not designed for the sounds of human speech.</p>
-
-<p>He decided to try his voice, just on the chance, but stopped, horrified
-at the muffled yowl that resulted.</p>
-
-<p>Two rangy hounds, six times his size, roused themselves from the
-rush-covered floor and glared growling at the sound with raised
-hackles. "Down, Colle! Stop it, Bayard!" a gruff voice commanded, and
-they reluctantly sank back again, keeping their fierce eyes on him. Was
-this a sample of what he must expect from dogs? He hoped it was merely
-his abortive attempt at human speech. Any further communication must be
-tried silently.</p>
-
-<p>He looked around the hall. There were other humans too. Several
-men-at-arms standing by the walls and a few serving men. At the big
-trestle-board were seated five people&mdash;one of them clearly the lord of
-the castle&mdash;it must be a castle&mdash;and the one woman sitting next to him
-in soiled finery would be his lady. The place reeked with the stale
-odor of humans and dogs, and less obnoxiously the smell of wood smoke
-and cooked meat. Dax realized that he now had a feline nose, and made
-allowances. After all, the well-to-do bathed themselves, in the still
-existing classic tradition, and would until the Black Death.</p>
-
-<p>The ridiculous giant in motley stopped his capering and came across
-the stone flags towards him. As he passed with ponderous footsteps he
-looked down and said, "Here, Tybalt!"</p>
-
-<p>Dax backed under the stool, terrified at the deep, hoarse voice. The
-man was probably trying to be gentle. He must keep in mind that he had
-a cat's hearing now, and all sounds would seem lower and louder.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>How were cats treated in Medieval England? He did not know, and he was
-not prepared for this contingency. But at least cats as a species had
-survived. He hoped he was one of the lucky ones. He must at all costs
-manage to keep alive for three days, because if he were killed before
-the drug wore off he would not return.</p>
-
-<p>What would they think at the school? Nothing, of course. He would never
-have been there. That would be changing the future ... but you changed
-the future every time you exerted your free will, anyhow.</p>
-
-<p>One of his experimental rats had not come back: it had merely
-disappeared with a loud pop. Perhaps an early Colonial terrier had got
-it. It might be the best thing to do to take to the woods, and wait out
-the time safe from the unknown dangers of men and dogs&mdash;but what of the
-dangers of the woods? It was winter, to judge by the fire in the hall,
-on a raised stone platform in the middle of the floor, from which the
-smoke found its way out through a louver in the high roof. And the icy
-drafts that came across the floor. Although he was a cat, he had little
-confidence of being able to hunt like one, or find refuge from the cold
-and snow.</p>
-
-<p>He decided to follow the court jester. At least the man had spoken to
-him kindly. And he had a name: Tybalt. He must remember to answer to
-it.</p>
-
-<p>He got up and began to walk towards the arched doorway through which
-the jester had disappeared.</p>
-
-<p>Walking on all fours felt perfectly natural&mdash;rather as if he were
-following himself. There was no trouble about keeping in step, or,
-rather, just out of it. His mouth was dry and he ran his tongue over
-his muzzle ... he could lick his eye! Then he did something that also
-felt natural, though pleasantly novel: he waved his tail. Then he stuck
-out his claws. They clicked against the flagstones and he sheathed them
-again.</p>
-
-<p>He had never in his life felt so supple and physically complete. He
-felt like running up the tapestry that hung by the doorway.</p>
-
-<p>At the other end of the vaulted corridor that he found himself in he
-could see the jester as he went into another chamber that was lit with
-a smoky reddish glow. There was an increased smell of cookery, and he
-guessed it was the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>When he got to the door he could see the jester was being given
-something in a bowl that steamed, and a large hunk of dark bread. The
-man turned and came out again and saw him.</p>
-
-<p>"Come along, Tybalt," he said. "Supper for you and me. Come along, old
-fellow!"</p>
-
-<p>Dax followed him across the corridor to a narrow stone stairway in the
-thickness of the wall. The winding steps seemed absurdly high. He would
-far rather have done the whole thing in two or three long leaps, but
-he took the steps one by one. Feline coordination would come to him in
-time.</p>
-
-<p>After an almost totally unlit passage they came to a minute room,
-scarcely more than a cell. The jester struck a light with flint and
-steel to a tallow candle, and sat down on a low straw-covered bed. The
-floor was freezing. Dax jumped up onto a small table, but was instantly
-pushed off it. His instinctive jump up and then down happened so
-quickly that he only realized in retrospect what a feat it was from a
-man's point of view. Yet he had landed clumsily. He was not yet quite a
-cat.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The jester cut off a piece of dubious-looking meat and threw it onto
-the floor. "Wait till it cools, Tybalt," he said, and scratched Dax
-behind the ears. Dax was ravenous, which seemed odd considering
-he'd had dinner half an hour ago. No, of course not. That was eight
-centuries in the future; God knew when Tybalt had last eaten.
-Disregarding the admonition he went at once to the meat, which was
-pork, and burned his mouth. It smelled glorious. And yet he suspected
-that in human form he would have revolted from it.</p>
-
-<p>He looked up at his master. He had a conviction that he belonged to the
-jester.</p>
-
-<p>He studied the gaunt, blood-smeared face. It looked as if someone had
-hit him on the nose. The cap-and-bells, with its attached wimple-shaped
-neck piece, had been laid aside. The gray bobbed hair and bony head
-looked anything but merry. There was, however, a shrewd reflective
-expression in the eyes, and Dax felt that he might well be in an
-advantageous position. Being a jester probably involved a certain
-amount of tact and discretion, not to mention ingenuity, so he resolved
-to try to communicate with him.</p>
-
-<p>But first he must eat. Would the damned pork never cool?</p>
-
-<p>The jester was already eating his, in great gulps, alternating it with
-bits of the evil-looking bread. There was a stoneware pot that smelled
-strongly of musty ale from which he drank every now and then. The
-stench of alcohol in it was like spoiled garbage to Dax. How had he
-ever been able to drink whisky? The thought of it was disgusting. The
-meat was cool enough now&mdash;in fact stone cold&mdash;and he tore it to pieces
-with his pointed teeth and bolted it unchewed. It was marvelous.</p>
-
-<p>"Well, Tybalt?" the jester said, putting aside his bowl. "No mice
-today? We are not very lucky, we two, are we?" He made a snapping with
-his fingers and Dax jumped up onto the pallet beside him. The old man
-stroked his back gently, but he had a very strong smell. Dax supposed
-he would get used to his new keen senses in time. He hoped it would be
-soon. It was very cold in the jester's cell and he intended to creep
-close at bed time. In the meanwhile how was he going to make known his
-true identity? Obviously speech was impossible; and Morse-code tapping
-with his paw was out of the question.</p>
-
-<p>You wouldn't get very far with mere facial expressions, either. Anyway,
-to most human eyes a cat has but two: contentment and fear. He looked
-around wondering if there were any small movable objects that he could
-arrange into the form of the letters of the alphabet&mdash;even a piece of
-string might do. But he feared that the man couldn't read. Anyway there
-was no string to be seen.</p>
-
-<p>Then on the table, which was scarcely more than a high bench, he saw a
-rosary with wooden beads.</p>
-
-<p>He got up and stretched&mdash;never in his life had he been able to stretch
-like this&mdash;and jumped delicately over onto the table. The jester
-reached out and swept him off it. Not roughly, but it was obvious
-he wasn't allowed there. This time his landing was more skillful.
-He sat on the cold floor and tried to think how he could get hold of
-the beads. If he had them on the floor he could push them into an
-arresting shape. A triangle perhaps, or a figure eight, that would
-catch the jester's eye. He looked up at a movement and saw that the
-man had picked up a small vellum book and was holding it close to his
-face. What luck! he could read after all! But how was he going to make
-letters? Near the sill of the door were some pieces of straw. He went
-over and examined them. He realized that a cat's vision is rather poor
-compared to a man's: quick to notice and interpret motion, but in other
-respects the over-large pupils, meant for nocturnal hunting, gave an
-inferior and uncertain image.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The straw was dirty and smelled of horses, but it ought to do. The
-trouble was that when his face was close enough to pick it up with his
-teeth he could scarcely make it out. He couldn't tell at first whether
-he had one or many in his mouth. He felt that his whiskers should
-tell him, but he was unaccustomed to their use. He padded over to the
-jester's feet and dropped the straws. He backed off and looked at them,
-then with his paw he ineptly pushed them into an A.</p>
-
-<p>He looked up. The jester was lost in his reading.</p>
-
-<p>Dax waited patiently, but the reading went on, and he patted the man's
-foot with carefully sheathed claws. The jester glanced at him, though
-not at the crude, straw A, and smiled.</p>
-
-<p>"What now, Tybalt? More supper? That you will have to catch
-for yourself. See&mdash;it's all gone! Share-and-share alike, old
-friend. I weigh eight stone. You're but a scant four pound, so
-correspondingly...." He returned to his reading.</p>
-
-<p>Dax went and picked out some more straw which he brought back and
-attempted to arrange in a B, but gave it up and made an E instead. Then
-he made two crosses and a triangle.</p>
-
-<p>AEXX&#916;.</p>
-
-<p>It looked like a fraternity. Then he mewed.</p>
-
-<p>The man looked down again with a faint frown. He didn't seem to notice
-the straw shapes; judging from the way he held the book he was quite
-short-sighted. "Out?" he asked. "Out for a rat, poor Tybalt? Or to lie
-by the embers in the hall?" He shook his head and got up, and went to
-the door to open it. Dax jumped onto the bed and mewed again. The man
-paused with his hand on the latch, looking puzzled. Dax jumped down and
-dabbed with his paw next each letter successively.</p>
-
-<p>"Why, what is this?" the old man said, smiling again. "Playfulness? The
-kitten is back!" He went to the table and picking up the bauble, made a
-feint with the stuffed bladder over Dax's head. Dax dodged it irritably
-and mewed again; three times in quick succession.</p>
-
-<p>This caught the attention of the jester, who laid down the bauble.
-"Ah! A Tritheist! Will it get you a mouse, Tybalt? Will it keep off
-evil spirits? It's said the imps love cats&mdash;so beware of moonlight and
-mistletoe!" He picked Dax up and stroked him.</p>
-
-<p>It was infuriating.</p>
-
-<p>Dax was aware that the Medieval mind was very different from the
-modern, but there must be some meeting point. Too bad this wasn't
-Friar Roger Bacon&mdash;he'd have got his attention in no time. But he was
-a hundred years too early. His immediate problem was to seek out some
-person who had enough imagination and curiosity to take notice of a cat
-who behaved not as a cat. If he had only known this was going to happen!</p>
-
-<p>He tried mewing again, but the jester only smiled, so he mewed once,
-then twice and then three times. The jester shook his head admiringly.
-Like most of his contemporaries the world for him was filled with
-wonders. It was an age of faith, not of speculation.</p>
-
-<p>A pale moon showed through a narrow slit in the wall, which was
-unglazed, and he became aware that the light from the tallow dip was
-yellow, and the jester's costume red and green.</p>
-
-<p>So it was all nonsense about cats having no color vision&mdash;anyway,
-hadn't some woman in California disproved that? Against the moon he
-could see the black outline of full-grown leaves on the nearby trees
-and knew it was not yet winter but autumn. When winter came in earnest,
-everyone from scullion to the lord of the manor would bed down in the
-Great Hall where the fire was. But the stonework of the castle was
-cold, and he felt himself getting drowsy.</p>
-
-<p>The old jester put down his book, crossed himself and blew out the
-light. Dax could hear him burrowing into the straw of his bed, and
-nestled beside him.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph1">III</p>
-
-<p>When he woke it was not quite dark, and a faint gray dawn came into the
-cell.</p>
-
-<p>The jester was snoring. Somewhere Dax thought he heard a rat. His
-muscles tensed, and he found himself on his feet by instinct&mdash;the idea
-of a rat was surprisingly attractive and he was hungry again. The noise
-stopped. He remembered that he had been having a dream&mdash;a strange
-nightmare of chasing after Mallison and catching him, and tearing
-him ... with his claws and teeth.</p>
-
-<p>A rusty bell started ringing somewhere in the castle.</p>
-
-<p>The jester snorted, sat up and looked out of the narrow window. Then
-he lit the candle and said his prayers, kneeling on his bed. Dax
-stretched, and the old man cleaned his teeth with a splinter and took
-a draught from the ale pot. It had a sour stench, but Dax found that
-he no longer minded&mdash;there were so many conflicting smells around, the
-most interesting of which had been the rat. A new, more immediately
-hopeful one, was of cooking that drifted up from below. It seemed that
-these people ate meat for their breakfast. And they liked it early.</p>
-
-<p>"Come along, Tybalt," the jester said, putting on his headdress, and
-went to the door. Dax slipped through quickly so as not to get his tail
-caught as the jester closed it. They went down the winding stairs again.</p>
-
-<p>At the bottom they came upon another cat&mdash;a big red tom&mdash;who on
-catching sight of Dax fluffed his tail and laid back his ears,
-spitting. Dax had a momentary impulse to see if communication was
-possible with him, but the big cat yowled and fled down the hallway.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah, Tybalt," the old man said. "Jesters and cats! Even their own kind
-spits at them!" As they got to the kitchen Dax saw the two hounds that
-had growled at him the night before. He was glad that they were now
-leashed and in the charge of a boy in a short woolen surcoat.</p>
-
-<p>But when they saw Dax the boy was unable to hold them back, and they
-jerked their leashes from his hand and came running and barking. Dax
-was terrified. He bolted ahead of them along the vaulted corridor and
-into the Great Hall, but came face to face with another brace of hounds
-whose ears pricked up at the sound. Dax without any conscious thought
-dodged sideways and ran up the tapestry on the wall.</p>
-
-<p>His sharp claws had good foothold on the tough canvas backing. But at
-the top he almost lost his grip, and scarcely managed to get over onto
-the musicians' gallery from which the tapestry hung. He crouched there,
-trembling, while the din below increased. He could hear men shouting at
-the dogs, and the jester's voice calling him. He mewed loudly for help.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>After a while he heard the old man's footsteps on the wooden ladder.
-He was picked up and comforted, but he was so dizzy with fear that he
-could hardly see. The jester seemed to think he was calm, and put him
-on his shoulder and went down the ladder again. The hounds had been
-taken away. But Dax stayed where he was with his eyes shut, holding on
-tight.</p>
-
-<p>"Well, Trice!" Dax opened his eyes and saw the lord of the manor
-glowering at the jester, and then at him. So Trice was the jester's
-name. An odd one. The Earl stood with his hands on his hips and seemed
-irritated rather than angry. "What's this I hear? The cat runs at my
-hounds and tries to scratch!"</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, no, sir," Trice said. "It was the other way! They ran at him!
-Tybalt has never scratched!"</p>
-
-<p>"Scratched or no, I wish you'd give him to one of the villagers," the
-Earl said. "I don't want the hounds upset, and Lady Godwina doesn't
-like cats. Besides, he'll ruin the tapestry."</p>
-
-<p>"But, my lord, he catches the rats! And he's my ... friend."</p>
-
-<p>"The dogs catch the rats," the Earl said shortly. "Give him away."</p>
-
-<p>"Well, my lord, the mice...."</p>
-
-<p>"The red tom gets them."</p>
-
-<p>The old man put up a hand to Dax protectively. "But, noble lord, what
-would I do without my pet?" Dax glanced at the tired face next his and
-saw tears in the eyes, but he had a determined look. "If he cannot
-stay, I ... I must go, too!"</p>
-
-<p>The Earl opened his eyes at this, but he smiled. "I see you are loyal,
-old Trice," he said. "I hope you are as loyal to me!"</p>
-
-<p>The Earl turned away. Trice put Dax on the floor and started back
-towards the kitchens.</p>
-
-<p>"Come, Tybalt," he said. "Or there'll be none left for us."</p>
-
-<p>Dax wished he were still on the shoulder, and stayed close to the
-jester's feet. Things were not going well at all. It had become as much
-a problem of survival as of research and communication, but when they
-got to the kitchen and the hounds were nowhere about, he decided that
-perhaps the two problems were inter-related. After a meal of scraps he
-felt more secure. Not seeing his master he went to look for him in the
-Great Hall.</p>
-
-<p>When he got there he saw that the Earl and his wife and retainers were
-eating boiled meat. He remembered that his tutor in Middle English had
-said the main meal in Medieval times was eaten in the morning. The
-four hounds were squabbling over bones that were thrown to them on the
-rush-covered flagstones under the trestle-board, and didn't notice him.
-Trice was not to be seen. After a while the boy in the woolen surcoat
-was told to take them out. He fastened leashes to their collars and led
-them through a large doorway in the far wall. Dax looked at the Earl:
-he had a fairly intelligent face, and he had shown forbearance towards
-Trice, so he thought he would make another try.</p>
-
-<p>The Lady Godwina got up unsteadily from her chair and left the hall&mdash;on
-the way to the lady's solar, Dax guessed; and he padded across to the
-Earl. When he got to the foot of the high-backed chair&mdash;it looked like
-a detached choir-stall from a gothic church&mdash;he patted the Earl's foot.</p>
-
-<p>The Earl looked down at him and frowned.</p>
-
-<p>Dax patted the foot again; three times. Then he mewed three times, and
-repeated the patting. The Earl blinked and got up, backing away. Dax
-mewed three times again, and the Earl crossed himself.</p>
-
-<p>"Saints preserve my soul! What have we here?"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Dax turned around three times, getting his hind legs crossed and
-nearly falling down. "Send for Trice at once!" the Earl shouted. "His
-cat Tybalt has a fit! Careful!" he said to a serving man who had come
-forward with outstretched hands. "Take care you are not bitten! He is
-unclean!"</p>
-
-<p>Dax backed away and ran to the open door, and out.</p>
-
-<p>There was a brilliant sun and he could see nothing at first&mdash;and when
-he did it was blurred, owing to the vertical shape of his contracted
-pupils. It was much warmer than the night before, and the leaves
-were brown on the trees. There was no courtyard and gateway, with
-drawbridge and moat beyond, as he had rather expected. Instead he was
-on cobblestones, surrounded at intervals by small houses, with trees
-between them. The village was built against the castle, somewhat in
-the French manner, but the houses were wretched affairs of mud-daubed
-reeds on wooden framing: hardly better than hovels. Only a few had
-more than one story. Smoke was coming up from every chimney, and the
-men were evidently on their way to work in the fields. They carried
-crude-looking farm implements and were dressed in coarse homespun
-with their legs padded and cross-gartered. They were a sorry lot:
-blank-faced and half starved.</p>
-
-<p>Dax heard footsteps behind him and turned.</p>
-
-<p>A young man with blond short hair and a Norman nose had come out of
-the doorway. He looked at Dax with amused curiosity, and squatted
-down, putting out a hand. At this proximity his eyes showed bloodshot
-and there was a beery smell. He said something that Dax could not
-understand&mdash;it sounded vaguely like a kind of French, but Dax had not
-studied medieval Norman. Still, it had a kindly sound. Dax rubbed
-against the hand. This man, at least, did not share the Earl's
-diagnosis. What was his position in the Earl's household? Not his
-son&mdash;he looked too unlike him. Would he be his clerk? He had a clerkly
-look&mdash;what is it in a face that makes it seem scholarly? And his hands
-were more fit for holding a pen than a mattock or a sword.</p>
-
-<p>Well, give it another try.</p>
-
-<p>Dax wished he could make an ingratiating sound, and found he was
-purring. He looked around for something he could use as a signal;
-mewing and tapping seemed to be misunderstood. A few yards away the
-cobblestones gave place to dirt, and he started towards it. It might do
-for a blackboard. He looked back, but the clerk had not moved.</p>
-
-<p>Dax wondered how a cat might beckon, lacking a forefinger. He waited
-until he caught the young man's eye, and tried to beckon with his
-head but it had no results. He continued on to the patch of dirt and
-scratched a triangle, and to his relief the clerk got up and came to
-him. When he was standing over him, Dax scratched two words in Latin:
-<i>homo sum</i>, and looked up.</p>
-
-<p>The clerk was staring with his mouth open.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Good, thought Dax: Latin was the <i>lingua Franca</i> of medieval Europe,
-and went on with his scratching. <i>Humani nihil a me alienum</i>&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>There was a gasp and he looked up again. The young man had closed his
-eyes and had the back of his hand against his forehead. He turned and
-walked to the castle door, holding his head. Dax sat down in disgust.
-A Twelfth Century hangover, indeed! A shadow fell across him and he
-turned.</p>
-
-<p>Three villagers: two men, and a woman in a hood were behind him.
-They had an expectant air, and, realizing that they were doubtless
-illiterate, he drew a large five-pointed star.</p>
-
-<p>The effect on them was volcanic.</p>
-
-<p>The woman screeched and threw her skirt over her head. The men crossed
-themselves and one of them turned and ran. The other slashed at Dax
-with a bill-hook and then, shouting, "Bewitched! Bewitched!" he, too,
-ran. The bill-hook missed Dax, thanks to his instinctive leap to one
-side, but the woman continued her noise and more people came out of
-the cottages, armed with farming implements and sticks. Everyone was
-shouting and offering advice. The main thread of their discourse was:
-Possessed! Possessed! Kill it! The Devil Incarnate!</p>
-
-<p>Dax was hemmed in on three sides. He started back for the castle, but
-the big doorway was filled with onlookers, one of whom stepped forward,
-aiming a crossbow. There was a clank followed by a hissing in the air,
-and the bolt thumped into the ground next to him. The bowman cursed
-and began to wind up his bow with a crannikin. Dax's fur stood out
-all over him and he made a mad dash towards a group of women who had
-nothing in their hands but besoms of birch twigs. It was a fortunate
-choice.</p>
-
-<p>Two or three women made abortive swats at him and the others backed
-away, leaving a clear path. In front of him was an open space and a
-tall tree.</p>
-
-<p>Almost before he knew it he was near its top and the whole village was
-milling around near its base, looking up with red angry faces.</p>
-
-<p>"Fire the tree!" someone shouted.</p>
-
-<p>"T'won't burn. It's an elm!"</p>
-
-<p>"Well, <i>I</i> shan't climb it!"</p>
-
-<p>"I won't have my tree burn!" an indignant voice yelled, but was drowned
-out. Small children were jumping up and down in excitement, and some
-teen-age boys threw stones but none of them reached him. Dax spat
-furiously. Teen-agers were the same through the ages!</p>
-
-<p>"Cut it down, then!"</p>
-
-<p>"T'will fall on my house!" (A woman's voice.)</p>
-
-<p>The shouting died down, and Dax hung on till his claws ached. There
-seemed to be a conference going on. The castle appeared to have lost
-interest, which relieved him; if there was to be any more crossbow
-shooting he stood little chance. After a short while the subject of
-the conference became apparent as men began arriving with bundles of
-dry sticks and faggots. To Dax's horror these were piled about the
-trunk and set alight. Then, as the flames began to rise, green boughs
-were added and a thick cloud of suffocating smoke came up.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Desperately he tried to find escape. One of the elm's long branches
-reached out almost over the roof of one of the houses, but it meant
-climbing down into the heart of the choking cloud. Beyond the house
-he suddenly caught sight of his master, Trice, who waved to him
-beseechingly. It gave him courage. Holding his breath, he began to back
-down the trunk until he felt the branch under him. Then he twisted
-round and ran along it with his heart pounding. A cat has small lungs
-for its size and holding his breath was a torment&mdash;but at last he was
-free of the smoke, and he took a breath of clean air.</p>
-
-<p>The roof seemed to be within reach, and the crowd had temporarily lost
-sight of him in the smoke.</p>
-
-<p>He could hear the jester's voice, but for some reason he couldn't
-understand him&mdash;it sounded like gibberish. He crept out until the
-thinning branch began to bend and, just as shouts went up from the more
-observant villagers, he leapt.</p>
-
-<p>He landed on the thatch&mdash;and almost lost his hold, but he was just
-able to scramble to the rooftree, and ran along the ridge. There was
-more shouting. Either these ones spoke a dialect or the excitement had
-put Middle English out of his head: he could barely understand them.
-Something about Widow Aelthreda's cottage&mdash;something about a witch....</p>
-
-<p>He slithered down the far side of the thatching and landed on a window
-box of late purple daisies. The parchment-covered window next him was
-open and he slipped inside just as the crowd turned the corner.</p>
-
-<p>He found himself in a small, bare upstairs room, insufficiently lit
-by the single window, but he could easily see into the most profound
-shadows. Under a chest in the corner was a mouse, frozen with terror.
-Dax was still out of breath, but he crept toward it, and as it ran out
-along the baseboard he intercepted it. He ate it&mdash;all.</p>
-
-<p>As he washed his face he wondered with diminishing nervousness what all
-the shouting and noise outside meant.</p>
-
-<p>In a little while he heard footsteps and a woman came into the room.
-When she saw him she made some noises with her mouth, and Dax ran to
-her. She picked him up and began to stroke him very pleasantly. Then
-there were more noises from below and presently there were a lot of
-people in the room. The woman dropped him for some reason.</p>
-
-<p>He ran under a big, low wooden thing, but a big iron thing was pushed
-at him. It had a sharp point, and he had to come out. This time the
-man with the bill-hook did not miss, but the pain lasted only for an
-instant.</p>
-
-<p>And ... and ... he was more conscious of the sound made by the
-hypodermic as it fell on the floor and broke.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at it with annoyance, and felt the slight prick on his arm.
-He got up and went to his bathroom, where he dabbed it with antiseptic.
-He saw that he'd better shave before going to the meeting. Well, the
-drug hadn't worked. What a waste of time. What a pity.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps a larger dose? He must experiment some more.</p>
-
-<p>He started shaving.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph1">IV</p>
-
-<p>When he got to the principal's office&mdash;a little late, which was
-not entirely by accident&mdash;he found that Mallison and a few of his
-fellow-students were sitting opposite the desk in hard chairs.</p>
-
-<p>The principal behind it gave Dax a reprimanding look, and then one at
-his watch. On one side of him were a group of teachers and a member
-of the school board who Dax remembered was Mr. Lightstone's especial
-crony. On the other were Mrs. Lightstone&mdash;a dour but subservient
-partner to her husband&mdash;and an empty chair.</p>
-
-<p>The principal pointed to the chair and said, "We have been waiting
-for your arrival to begin, Mr. Dax." He turned to Mallison as Dax sat
-down, and said, "You are, I believe, what is known as a 'hep-cat'?" He
-waited but Mallison said nothing. His face was very white and he looked
-sullen. "Well, answer me, sir!" the principal said loudly.</p>
-
-<p>"You didn't ask me anything," the boy said in a low voice. "You told
-me."</p>
-
-<p>The principal pushed his lips out and breathed deeply. He took
-something from his pocket and held it up. Dax saw it was the packet of
-alleged heroin.</p>
-
-<p>"Did you throw this out of the window of Mr. Dax's class room?"</p>
-
-<p>The boy looked at it incomprehendingly and shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>"Do you know what it is? Have you seen this packet before?"</p>
-
-<p>"No, Mr. Lightstone...."</p>
-
-<p>"You sound uncertain. Think carefully, Mallison." The principal put the
-packet on his desk and unfolded it. Everyone bent forward and looked at
-it&mdash;including Mallison, who shook his head again.</p>
-
-<p>Dax leaned across Mrs. Lightstone and whispered to her husband, "Did
-you have it analyzed?"</p>
-
-<p>The principal shook his head impatiently. "Not yet! There was no one in
-the Chemistry Department!" He cleared his throat importantly. "Well?
-What have you to say?"</p>
-
-<p>Mallison apparently had nothing to say. He swallowed and looked at
-one of the boys next him. Mr. Lightstone leaned back in his chair and
-turned to address the group on his right&mdash;the school board man in
-particular. "This," he said, tapping the packet, "was thrown out of a
-window of the physics class room today. These are the boys that sit
-next those windows. I have every reason to suspect Mallison."</p>
-
-<p>The group nodded. Dax realized that they had been briefed in advance.
-The boy Mallison had certainly a sulky and uncooperative air. He seemed
-the epitome of juvenile delinquency on the defensive, and yet....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>"You," the principal said to the boys, "are a little band of
-trouble-makers. You cut classes, you stay up late and go to what I
-believe you call juke-joints. I have heard reports of your riding in
-hot-rods!" He paused significantly.</p>
-
-<p>"None of us here's got a car," Mallison said in a flat voice. He was
-definitely sneering now. "I've never even <i>seen</i> a real drag-race!"</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Lightstone blinked. The word was unfamiliar to him, but it had a
-disreputable ring to it. "And I suppose you've never taken narcotics?"</p>
-
-<p>There was a dead silence. Mallison clamped his mouth shut, and his face
-became wooden.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Lightstone addressed the boy next him. "Have <i>you</i> ever seen any of
-the boys use this?" He tapped the packet again. "Did you see Mallison
-throw it out of the window? You sit behind him!"</p>
-
-<p>The boy looked blank and glanced at Mallison. "No, sir," he said.</p>
-
-<p>"But you couldn't have missed seeing him!"</p>
-
-<p>"Excuse me a minute," Dax said. "These boys aren't a <i>band</i> exactly.
-They just happen to sit next the windows."</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Lightstone looked offended but resourceful. "They picked those
-seats themselves. That's what a clique does. It&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"I assign all the pupils to their desks," Dax said, and felt he was
-turning pink.</p>
-
-<p>The principal took this in his stride by ignoring it. "And <i>you</i>," he
-said to the boy on Mallison's other side. "What have you to say?"</p>
-
-<p>The boy frowned and stuttered.</p>
-
-<p>Dax was beginning to feel annoyed although he didn't know exactly why.
-For one thing, he had let himself seem to be defending Mallison. It
-was his craze for accuracy, of course. "I don't understand why the
-parents of these boys aren't here," he was surprised to hear himself
-say. "It seems to me they ought to have some kind of defense counsel if
-there is going to be a trial."</p>
-
-<p>The principal looked at him steadily. "Would <i>you</i> care to act in that
-capacity?"</p>
-
-<p>Dax felt that he was getting redder than ever. "Have you had a doctor
-examine Mallison for ... for the effects of narcotics?" he said.
-"Where are these policemen you said you spoke to? Shouldn't they be
-informed of your suspicions, instead of holding a kind of star chamber
-inquisition? It's ... it's <i>medieval</i>!"</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Lightstone glared at him in astonishment.</p>
-
-<p>Dax had a sudden thought. "The chemistry lab is right over my class
-room," he said. "Why couldn't the packet have fallen from there?"</p>
-
-<p>"What would <i>they</i> be doing with heroin?"</p>
-
-<p>"But we don't know yet that&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>The principal interrupted him and swept his arm in a gesture of
-all-inclusive condemnation. "We will in good time! But if you have
-never seen guilt before, you see it now!" He looked at the startled
-young faces with abhorrence. "Look at them!"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Dax had a curious and violent revulsion, although he hadn't followed
-the line of reasoning in Lightstone's last remark. In fact, he
-realized that he hadn't really heard the words. But the principal's
-angry face made his hackles rise.</p>
-
-<p>The principal had a menacing look. He was the most dangerous looking
-thing he had ever seen. A convulsive shudder went through all of Dax's
-muscles, and he leapt&mdash;straight across Mrs. Lightstone's lap, who fell
-over backwards, screaming. Everyone was making loud, garbled noises,
-and he was on top of Lightstone, scratching and biting.</p>
-
-<p>He heard himself give a loud, warlike and triumphant yowl.</p>
-
-
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