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diff --git a/old/63516.txt b/old/63516.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7b8c25b..0000000 --- a/old/63516.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1779 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Vanishing Venusians, by Leigh Brackett - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Vanishing Venusians - -Author: Leigh Brackett - -Release Date: October 21, 2020 [EBook #63516] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VANISHING VENUSIANS *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - The Vanishing Venusians - - By LEIGH BRACKETT - - For years they had wandered the eternal - seas of Venus, seeking the home that was - their birthright, death walking in their - wake. And now they were making their final - bid--three of them fighting toward the - promised land, battling for a hopeless cause. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1945. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The breeze was steady enough, but it was not in a hurry. It filled the -lug sail just hard enough to push the dirty weed-grown hull through the -water, and no harder. Matt Harker lay alongside the tiller and counted -the trickles of sweat crawling over his nakedness, and stared with -sullen, opaque eyes into the indigo night. Anger, leashed and impotent, -rose in his throat like bitter vomit. - -The sea--Rory McLaren's Venusian wife called it the Sea of Morning -Opals--lay unstirring, black, streaked with phosphorescence. The -sky hung low over it, the thick cloud blanket of Venus that had made -the Sun a half-remembered legend to the exiles from Earth. Riding -lights burned in the blue gloom, strung out in line. Twelve ships, -thirty-eight hundred people, going no place, trapped in the interval -between birth and death and not knowing what to do about it. - -Matt Harker glanced upward at the sail and then at the stern lantern -of the ship ahead. His face, in the dim glow that lights Venus even at -night, was a gaunt oblong of shadows and hard bone, seamed and scarred -with living, with wanting and not having, with dying and not being -dead. He was a lean man, wiry and not tall, with a snake-like surety of -motion. - -Somebody came scrambling quietly aft along the deck, avoiding the -sleeping bodies crowded everywhere. Harker said, without emotion, "Hi, -Rory." - -Rory McLaren said, "Hi, Matt." He sat down. He was young, perhaps half -Harker's age. There was still hope in his face, but it was growing -tired. He sat for a while without speaking, looking at nothing, and -then said, "Honest to God, Matt, how much longer can we last?" - -"What's the matter, kid? Starting to crack?" - -"I don't know. Maybe. When are we going to stop somewhere?" - -"When we find a place to stop." - -"Is there a place to stop? Seems like ever since I was born we've been -hunting. There's always something wrong. Hostile natives, or fever, or -bad soil, always something, and we go on again. It's not right. It's -not any way to try to live." - -Harker said, "I told you not to go having kids." - -"What's that got to do with it?" - -"You start worrying. The kid isn't even here yet, and already you're -worrying." - -"Sure I am." McLaren put his head in his hands suddenly and swore. -Harker knew he did that to keep from crying. "I'm worried," McLaren -said, "that maybe the same thing'll happen to my wife and kid that -happened to yours. We got fever aboard." - -Harker's eyes were like blown coals for an instant. Then he glanced up -at the sail and said, "They'd be better off if it didn't live." - -"That's no kind of a thing to say." - -"It's the truth. Like you asked me, when are we going to stop -somewhere? Maybe never. You bellyache about it ever since you were -born. Well, I've been at it longer than that. Before you were born I -saw our first settlement burned by the Cloud People, and my mother and -father crucified in their own vineyard. I was there when this trek to -the Promised Land began, back on Earth, and I'm still waiting for the -promise." - -The sinews in Harker's face were drawn like knots of wire. His voice -had a terrible quietness. - -"Your wife and kid would be better off to die now, while Viki's still -young and has hope, and before the child ever opens its eyes." - - * * * * * - -Sim, the big black man, relieved Harker before dawn. He started -singing, softly--something mournful and slow as the breeze, and -beautiful. Harker cursed him and went up into the bow to sleep, but the -song stayed with him. _Oh, I looked over Jordan, and what did I see, -comin' for to carry me home...._ - -Harker slept. Presently he began to moan and twitch, and then cry out. -People around him woke up. They watched with interest. Harker was a -lone wolf awake, ill-tempered and violent. When, at long intervals, he -would have one of his spells, no one was anxious to help him out of it. -They liked peeping inside of Harker when he wasn't looking. - -Harker didn't care. He was playing in the snow again. He was seven -years old, and the drifts were high and white, and above them the sky -was so blue and clean that he wondered if God mopped it every few days -like Mom did the kitchen floor. The sun was shining. It was like a -great gold coin, and it made the snow burn like crushed diamonds. He -put his arms up to the sun, and the cold air slapped him with clean -hands, and he laughed. And then it was all gone.... - -"By gawd," somebody said. "Ain't them tears on his face?" - -"Bawling. Bawling like a little kid. Listen at him." - -"Hey," said the first one sheepishly. "Reckon we oughta wake him up?" - -"Hell with him, the old sour-puss. Hey, listen to that...!" - -"Dad," Harker whispered. "Dad, I want to go home." - - * * * * * - -The dawn came like a sifting of fire-opals through the layers of -pearl-grey cloud. Harker heard the yelling dimly in his sleep. He felt -dull and tired, and his eyelids stuck together. The yelling gradually -took shape and became the word "Land!" repeated over and over. Harker -kicked himself awake and got up. - -The tideless sea glimmered with opaline colors under the mist. Flocks -of little jewel-scaled sea-dragons rose up from the ever-present -floating islands of weed, and the weed itself, part of it, writhed and -stretched with sentient life. - -Ahead there was a long low hummock of muddy ground fading into tangled -swamp. Beyond it, rising sheer into the clouds, was a granite cliff, a -sweeping escarpment that stood like a wall against the hopeful gaze of -the exiles. - -Harker found Rory McLaren standing beside him, his arm around Viki, his -wife. Viki was one of several Venusians who had married into the Earth -colony. Her skin was clear white, her hair a glowing silver, her lips -vividly red. Her eyes were like the sea, changeable, full of hidden -life. Just now they had that special look that the eyes of women get -when they're thinking about creation. Harker looked away. - -McLaren said, "It's land." - -Harker said, "It's mud. It's swamp. It's fever. It's like the rest." - -Viki said, "Can we stop here, just a little while?" - -Harker shrugged. "That's up to Gibbons." He wanted to ask what the hell -difference it made where the kid was born, but for once he held his -tongue. He turned away. Somewhere in the waste a woman was screaming in -delirium. There were three shapes wrapped in ragged blankets and laid -on planks by the port scuppers. Harker's mouth twitched in a crooked -smile. - -"We'll probably stop long enough to bury them," he said. "Maybe that'll -be time enough." - -He caught a glimpse of McLaren's face. The hope in it was not tired any -more. It was dead. Dead, like the rest of Venus. - -Gibbons called the chief men together aboard his ship--the leaders, -the fighters and hunters and seamen, the tough leathery men who were -the armor around the soft body of the colony. Harker was there, and -McLaren. McLaren was young, but up until lately he had had a quality of -optimism that cheered his shipmates, a natural leadership. - -Gibbons was an old man. He was the original guiding spirit of the five -thousand colonists who had come out from Earth to a new start on a new -world. Time and tragedy, disappointment and betrayal had marked him -cruelly, but his head was still high. Harker admired his guts while -cursing him for an idealistic fool. - -The inevitable discussion started as to whether they should try a -permanent settlement on this mud flat or go on wandering over the -endless, chartless seas. Harker said impatiently: - -"For cripesake, look at the place. Remember the last time. Remember the -time before that, and stop bleating." - -Sim, the big black, said quietly, "The people are getting awful tired. -A man was meant to have roots some place. There's going to be trouble -pretty soon if we don't find land." - -Harker said, "You think you can find some, pal, go to it." - -Gibbons said heavily, "But he's right. There's hysteria, fever, -dysentery and boredom, and the boredom's worst of all." - -McLaren said, "I vote to settle." - -Harker laughed. He was leaning by the cabin port, looking out at the -cliffs. The grey granite looked clean above the swamp. Harker tried -to pierce the clouds that hid the top, but couldn't. His dark eyes -narrowed. The heated voices behind him faded into distance. Suddenly he -turned and said, "Sir, I'd like permission to see what's at the top of -those cliffs." - -There was complete silence. Then Gibbons said slowly, "We've lost -too many men on journeys like that before, only to find the plateau -uninhabitable." - -"There's always the chance. Our first settlement was in the high -plateaus, remember. Clean air, good soil, no fever." - -"I remember," Gibbons said. "I remember." He was silent for a while, -then he gave Harker a shrewd glance. "I know you, Matt. I might as -well give permission." - - * * * * * - -Harker grinned. "You won't miss me much anyhow. I'm not a good -influence any more." He started for the door. "Give me three weeks. -You'll take that long to careen and scrape the bottoms anyhow. Maybe -I'll come back with something." - -McLaren said, "I'm going with you, Matt." - -Harker gave him a level-eyed stare. "You better stay with Viki." - -"If there's good land up there, and anything happens to you so you -can't come back and tell us...." - -"Like not bothering to come back, maybe?" - -"I didn't say that. Like we both won't come back. But two is better -than one." - -Harker smiled. The smile was enigmatic and not very nice. Gibbons said, -"He's right, Matt." Harker shrugged. Then Sim stood up. - -"Two is good," he said, "but three is better." He turned to Gibbons. -"There's nearly five hundred of us, sir. If there's new land up there, -we ought to share the burden of finding it." - -Gibbons nodded. Harker said, "You're crazy, Sim. Why you want to do all -that climbing, maybe to no place?" - -Sim smiled. His teeth were unbelievably white in the sweat-polished -blackness of his face. "But that's what my people always done, Matt. A -lot of climbing, to no place." - -They made their preparations and had a last night's sleep. McLaren said -good-bye to Viki. She didn't cry. She knew why he was going. She kissed -him, and all she said was, "Be careful." All he said was, "I'll be back -before he's born." - -They started at dawn, carrying dried fish and sea-berries made into -pemmican, and their long knives and ropes for climbing. They had -long ago run out of ammunition for their few blasters, and they had -no equipment for making more. All were adept at throwing spears, and -carried three short ones barbed with bone across their backs. - -It was raining when they crossed the mud flat, wading thigh-deep in -heavy mist. Harker led the way through the belt of swamp. He was -an old hand at it, with an uncanny quickness in spotting vegetation -that was as independently alive and hungry as he was. Venus is one -vast hothouse, and the plants have developed into species as varied -and marvelous as the reptiles or the mammals, crawling out of the -pre-Cambrian seas as primitive flagellates and growing wills of their -own, with appetites and motive power to match. The children of the -colony learned at an early age not to pick flowers. The blossoms too -often bit back. - -The swamp was narrow, and they came out of it safely. A great -swamp-dragon, a _leshen_, screamed not far off, but they hunt by night, -and it was too sleepy to chase them. Harker stood finally on firm -ground and studied the cliff. - -The rock was roughened by weather, hacked at by ages of erosion, -savaged by earthquake. There were stretches of loose shale and great -slabs that looked as though they would peel off at a touch, but Harker -nodded. - -"We can climb it," he said. "Question is, how high is up?" - -Sim laughed. "High enough for the Golden City, maybe. Have we all got a -clear conscience? Can't carry no load of sin that far!" - -Rory McLaren looked at Harker. - -Harker said, "All right, I confess. I don't care if there's land up -there or not. All I wanted was to get the hell out of that damn boat -before I went clean nuts. So now you know." - -McLaren nodded. He didn't seem surprised. "Let's climb." - - * * * * * - -By morning of the second day they were in the clouds. They crawled -upward through opal-tinted steam, half liquid, hot and unbearable. They -crawled for two more days. The first night or two Sim sang during his -watch, while they rested on some ledge. After that he was too tired. -McLaren began to give out, though he wouldn't say so. Matt Harker grew -more taciturn and ill-tempered, if possible, but otherwise there was no -change. The clouds continued to hide the top of the cliff. - -During one rest break McLaren said hoarsely, "Don't these cliffs ever -end?" His skin was yellowish, his eyes glazed with fever. - -"Maybe," said Harker, "they go right up beyond the sky." The fever was -on him again, too. It lived in the marrow of the exiles, coming out at -intervals to shake and sear them, and then retreating. Sometimes it did -not retreat, and after nine days there was no need. - -McLaren said, "You wouldn't care if they did, would you?" - -"I didn't ask you to come." - -"But you wouldn't care." - -"Ah, shut up." - -McLaren went for Harker's throat. - -Harker hit him, with great care and accuracy. McLaren sagged down and -took his head in his hands and wept. Sim stayed out of it. He shook his -head, and after a while he began to sing to himself, or someone beyond -himself. "Oh, nobody knows the trouble I see...." - -Harker pulled himself up. His ears rang and he shivered uncontrollably, -but he could still take some of McLaren's weight on himself. They were -climbing a steep ledge, fairly wide and not difficult. - -"Let's get on," said Harker. - -About two hundred feet beyond that point the ledge dipped and began -to go down again in a series of broken steps. Overhead the cliff face -bulged outward. Only a fly could have climbed it. They stopped. Harker -cursed with vicious slowness. Sim closed his eyes and smiled. He was a -little crazy with fever himself. - -"Golden city's at the top. That's where I'm going." - -He started off along the ledge, following its decline toward a jutting -shoulder, around which it vanished. Harker laughed sardonically. -McLaren pulled free of him and went doggedly after Sim. Harker shrugged -and followed. - -Around the shoulder the ledge washed out completely. - -They stood still. The steaming clouds shut them in before, and behind -was a granite wall hung within thick fleshy creepers. Dead end. - -"Well?" said Harker. - -McLaren sat down. He didn't cry, or say anything. He just sat. Sim -stood with his arms hanging and his chin on his huge black chest. -Harker said, "See what I meant, about the Promised Land? Venus is a -fixed wheel, and you can't win." - -It was then that he noticed the cool air. He had thought it was just -a fever chill, but it lifted his hair, and it had a definite pattern -on his body. It even had a cool, clean smell to it. It was blowing out -through the creepers. - -Harker began ripping with his knife. He broke through into a cave -mouth, a jagged rip worn smooth at the bottom by what must once have -been a river. - -"That draft is coming from the top of the plateau," Harker said. "Wind -must be blowing up there and pushing it down. There may be a way -through." - -McLaren and Sim both showed a slow, terrible growth of hope. The three -of them went without speaking into the tunnel. - - - II - -They made good time. The clean air acted as a tonic, and hope spurred -them on. The tunnel sloped upward rather sharply, and presently Harker -heard water, a low thunderous murmur as of an underground river up -ahead. It was utterly dark, but the smooth channel of stone was easy to -follow. - -Sim said, "Isn't that light up ahead?" - -"Yeah," said Harker. "Some kind of phosphorescence. I don't like that -river. It may stop us." - -They went on in silence. The glow grew stronger, the air more damp. -Patches of phosphorescent lichen appeared on the walls, glimmering with -dim jewel tones like an unhealthy rainbow. The roar of the water was -very loud. - -They came upon it suddenly. It flowed across the course of their -tunnel in a broad channel worn deep into the rock, so that its level -had fallen below its old place and left the tunnel dry. It was a -wide river, slow and majestic. Lichen spangled the roof and walls, -reflecting in dull glints of color from the water. - -Overhead there was a black chimney going up through the rock, and the -cool draft came from there with almost hurricane force, much of which -was dissipated in the main river tunnel. Harker judged there was a -cliff formation on the surface that siphoned the wind downward. The -chimney was completely inaccessible. - -Harker said, "I'll guess we'll have to go upstream, along the side." -The rock was eroded enough to make that possible, showing wide ledges -at different levels. - -McLaren said, "What if this river doesn't come from the surface? What -if it starts from an underground source?" - -"You stuck your neck out," Harker said. "Come on." - -They started. After a while, tumbling like porpoises in the black -water, the golden creatures swam by, and saw the men, and stopped, and -swam back again. - -They were not very large, the largest about the size of a -twelve-year-old child. Their bodies were anthropoid, but adapted -to swimming with shimmering webs. They glowed with a golden light, -phosphorescent like the lichen, and their eyes were lidless and black, -like one huge spreading pupil. Their faces were incredible. Harker -could remember, faintly, the golden dandelions that grew on the lawn -in summer. The heads and faces of the swimmers were like that, covered -with streaming petals that seemed to have independent movements, as -though they were sensory organs as well as decoration. - -Harker said, "For cripesake, what are they?" - -"They look like flowers," McLaren said. - -"They look more like fish," the black man said. - -Harker laughed. "I'll bet they're both. I'll bet they're plannies that -grew where they had to be amphibious." The colonists had shortened -plant-animal to planimal, and then just planny. "I've seen gimmicks in -the swamps that weren't so far away from these. But jeez, get the eyes -on 'em! They look human." - -"The shape's human, too, almost." McLaren shivered. "I wish they -wouldn't look at us that way." - -Sim said, "As long as they just look. I'm not gonna worry...." - -They didn't. They started to close in below the men, swimming -effortlessly against the current. Some of them began to clamber out -on the low ledge behind them. They were agile and graceful. There -was something unpleasantly child-like about them. There were fifteen -or twenty of them, and they reminded Harker of a gang of mischievous -kids--only the mischief had a queer soulless quality of malevolence. - -Harker led the way faster along the ledge. His knife was drawn and he -carried a short spear in his right hand. - -The tone of the river changed. The channel broadened, and up ahead -Harker saw that the cavern ended in a vast shadowy place, the water -spreading into a dark lake, spilling slowly out over a low wide lip of -rock. More of the shining child-things were playing there. They joined -their fellows, closing the ring tighter around the three men. - -"I don't like this," McLaren said. "If they'd only make a noise!" - -They did, suddenly--a shrill tittering like a blasphemy of childish -laughter. Their eyes shone. They rushed in, running wetly along the -ledge, reaching up out of the water to claw at ankles, laughing. Inside -his tough flat belly Harker's guts turned over. - - * * * * * - -McLaren yelled and kicked. Claws raked his ankle, spiny needle-sharp -things like thorns. Sim ran his spear clean through a golden breast. -There were no bones in it. The body was light and membranous, and the -blood that ran out was sticky and greenish, like sap. Harker kicked -two of the things back in the river, swung his spear like a ball bat -and knocked two more off the ledge--they were unbelievably light--and -shouted, - -"Up there, that high ledge. I don't think they can climb that." - -He thrust McLaren bodily past him and helped Sim fight a rearguard -action while they all climbed a rotten and difficult transit. McLaren -crouched at the top and hurled chunks of stone at the attackers. There -was a great crack running up and clear across the cavern roof, scar of -some ancient earthquake. Presently a small slide started. - -"Okay," Harker panted. "Quit before you bring the roof down. They can't -follow us." The plannies were equipped for swimming, not climbing. They -clawed angrily and slipped back, and then retreated sullenly to the -water. Abruptly they seized the body with Sim's spear through it and -devoured it, quarreling fiercely over it. McLaren leaned over the edge -and was sick. - -Harker didn't feel so good himself. He got up and went on. Sim helped -McLaren, whose ankle was bleeding badly. - -This higher ledge angled up and around the wall of the great -lake-cavern. It was cooler and drier here, and the lichens thinned out, -and vanished, leaving total darkness. Harker yelled once. From the echo -of his voice the place was enormous. - -Down below in the black water golden bodies streaked like comets in -an ebon universe, going somewhere, going fast. Harker felt his way -carefully along. His skin twitched with a nervous impulse of danger, a -sense of something unseen, unnatural, and wicked. - -Sim said, "I hear something." - -They stopped. The blind air lay heavy with a subtle fragrance, spicy -and pleasant, yet somehow unclean. The water sighed lazily far below. -Somewhere ahead was a smooth rushing noise which Harker guessed was the -river inlet. But none of that was what Sim meant. - -He meant the rippling, rustling sound that came from everywhere in -the cavern. The black surface of the lake was dotted now with spots -of burning phosphorescent color, trailing fiery wakes. The spots grew -swiftly, coming nearer, and became carpets of flowers, scarlet and blue -and gold and purple. Floating fields of them, and towed by shining -swimmers. - -"My God," said Harker softly. "How big are they?" - -"Enough to make three of me." Sim was a big man. "Those little ones -were children, all right. They went and got their papas. Oh, Lord!" - -The swimmers were very like the smaller ones that attacked them by -the river, except for their giant size. They were not cumbersome. -They were magnificent, supple-limbed and light. Their membranes had -spread into great shining wings, each rib tipped with fire. Only the -golden-dandelion heads had changed. - -They had shed their petals. Their adult heads were crowned with flat, -coiled growths having the poisonous and filthy beauty of fungus. And -their faces were the faces of men. - -For the first time since childhood Harker was cold. - -The fields of burning flowers were swirled together at the base of the -cliff. The golden giants cried out suddenly, a sonorous belling note, -and the water was churned to blazing foam as thousands of flower-like -bodies broke away and started up the cliff on suckered, spidery legs. - -It didn't look as though it were worth trying, but Harker said, "Let's -get the hell on!" There was a faint light now, from the army below. -He began to run along the ledge, the others close on his heels. The -flower-hounds coursed swiftly upward, and their masters swam easily -below, watching. - -The ledge dropped. Harker shot along it like a deer. Beyond the lowest -dip it plunged into the tunnel whence the river came. A short tunnel, -and at the far end.... - -"Daylight!" Harker shouted. "Daylight!" - -McLaren's bleeding leg gave out and he fell. - - * * * * * - -Harker caught him. They were at the lowest part of the dip. The -flower-beasts were just below, rushing higher. McLaren's foot was -swollen, the calf of his leg discolored. Some swift infection from the -planny's claws. He fought Harker. "Go on," he said. "Go on!" - -Harker slapped him hard across the temple. He started on, half carrying -McLaren, but he saw it wasn't going to work. McLaren weighed more than -he did. He thrust McLaren into Sim's powerful arms. The big black -nodded and ran, carrying the half-conscious man like a child. Harker -saw the first of the flower-things flow up onto the ledge in front of -them. - -Sim hurdled them. They were not large, and there were only three of -them. They rushed to follow and Harker speared them, slashing and -striking with the sharp bone tip. Behind him the full tide rushed up. -He ran, but they were faster. He drove them back with spear and knife, -and ran again, and turned and fought again, and by the time they had -reached the tunnel Harker was staggering with weariness. - -Sim stopped. He said, "There's no way out." - -Harker glanced over his shoulder. The river fell sheer down a high face -of rock--too high and with too much force in the water even for the -giant water-plannies to think of attempting. Daylight poured through -overhead, warm and welcoming, and it might as well have been on Mars. - -Dead end. - -Then Harker saw the little eroded channel twisting up at the side. -Little more than a drain-pipe, and long dry, leading to a passage -beside the top of the falls--a crack barely large enough for a small -man to crawl through. It was a hell of a ragged hope, but.... - -Harker pointed, between jabs at the swarming flowers. Sim yelled, "You -first." Because Harker was the best climber, he obeyed, helping the -gasping McLaren up behind him. Sim wielded his spear like a lightning -brand, guarding the rear, creeping up inch by inch. - -He reached a fairly secure perch, and stopped. His huge chest pumped -like a bellows, his arm rose and fell like a polished bar of ebony. -Harker shouted to him to come on. He and McLaren were almost at the top. - -Sim laughed. "How you going to get me through that little bitty hole?" - -"Come on, you fool!" - -"You better hurry. I'm about finished." - -"Sim! Sim, damn you!" - -"Crawl out through that hole, runt, and pull that stringbean with you! -I'm a man-sized man, and I got to stay." Then, furiously, "Hurry up or -they'll drag you back before you're through." - -He was right. Harker knew he was right. He went to work pushing and -jamming McLaren through the narrow opening. McLaren was groggy and not -much help, but he was thin and small-boned, and he made it. He rolled -out on a slope covered with green grass, the first Harker had seen -since he was a child. He began to struggle after McLaren. He did not -look back at Sim. - -The black man was singing, about the glory of the coming of the Lord. - -Harker put his head back into the darkness of the creek. "Sim!" - -"Yeah?" Faintly, hoarse, echoing. - -"There's land here, Sim. Good land." - -"Yeah." - -"Sim, we'll find a way...." - -Sim was singing again. The sound grew fainter, diminishing downward -into distance. The words were lost, but not what lay behind them. Matt -Harker buried his face in the green grass, and Sim's voice went with -him into the dark. - - * * * * * - -The clouds were turning color with the sinking of the hidden sun. They -hung like a canopy of hot gold washed in blood. It was utterly silent, -except for the birds. Birds. You never heard birds like that down in -the low places. Matt Harker rolled over and sat up slowly. He felt as -though he had been beaten. There was a sickness in him, and a shame, -and the old dark anger lying coiled and deadly above his heart. - -Before him lay the long slope of grass to the river, which bent away -to the left out of sight behind a spur of granite. Beyond the slope -was a broad plain and then a forest of gigantic trees. They seemed to -float in the coppery haze, their dark branches outspread like wings and -starred with flowers. The air was cool, with no taint of mud or rot. -The grass was rich, the soil beneath it clean and sweet. - -Rory McLaren moaned softly and Harker turned. His leg looked bad. He -was in a sort of stupor, his skin flushed and dry. Harker swore softly, -wondering what he was going to do. - -He looked back toward the plain, and he saw the girl. - -He didn't know how she got there. Perhaps out of the bushes that grew -in thick clumps on the slope. She could have been there a long time, -watching. She was watching now, standing quite still about forty feet -away. A great scarlet butterfly clung to her shoulder, moving its wings -with lazy delight. - -She seemed more like a child than a woman. She was naked, small and -slender and exquisite. Her skin had a faint translucent hint of green -under its whiteness. Her hair, curled short to her head, was deep blue, -and her eyes were blue also, and very strange. - -Harker stared at her, and she at him, neither of them moving. A bright -bird swooped down and hovered by her lips for a moment, caressing her -with its beak. She touched it and smiled, but she did not take her eyes -from Harker. - -Harker got to his feet, slowly, easily. He said, "Hello." - -She did not move, nor make a sound, but quite suddenly a pair of -enormous birds, beaked and clawed like eagles and black as sin, made a -whistling rush down past Harker's head and returned, circling. Harker -sat down again. - -The girl's strange eyes moved from him, upward to the crack in the -hillside whence he had come. Her lips didn't move, but her voice--or -something--spoke clearly inside Harker's head. - -"You came from--There." _There_ had tremendous feeling in it, and none -of it nice. - -Harker said, "Yes. A telepath, huh?" - -"But you're not...." A picture of the golden swimmers formed in -Harker's mind. It was recognizable, but hatred and fear had washed out -all the beauty, leaving only horror. - -Harker said, "No." He explained about himself and McLaren. He told -about Sim. He knew she was listening carefully to his mind, testing it -for truth. He was not worried about what she would find. "My friend is -hurt," he said. "We need food and shelter." - -For some time there was no answer. The girl was looking at Harker -again. His face, the shape and texture of his body, his hair, and -then his eyes. He had never been looked at quite that way before. He -began to grin. A provocative, be-damned-to-you grin that injected a -surprising amount of light and charm into his sardonic personality. - -"Honey," he said, "you are terrific. Animal, mineral, or vegetable?" - -She tipped her small round head in surprise, and asked his own question -right back. Harker laughed. She smiled, her mouth making a small -inviting V, and her eyes had sparkles in them. Harker started toward -her. - -Instantly the birds warned him back. The girl laughed, a mischievous -ripple of merriment. "Come," she said, and turned away. - -Harker frowned. He leaned over and spoke to McLaren, with peculiar -gentleness. He managed to get the boy erect, and then swung him across -his shoulders, staggering slightly under the weight. McLaren said -distinctly, "I'll be back before he's born." - -Harker waited until the girl had started, keeping his distance. The two -black birds followed watchfully. They walked out across the thick grass -of the plain, toward the trees. The sky was now the color of blood. - -A light breeze caught the girl's hair and played with it. Matt Harker -saw that the short curled strands were broad and flat, like blue petals. - - - III - -It was a long walk to the forest. The top of the plateau seemed to be -bowl-shaped, protected by encircling cliffs. Harker, thinking back to -that first settlement long ago, decided that this place was infinitely -better. It was like the visions he had seen in fever-dreams--the -Promised Land. The coolness and cleanness of it were like having -weights removed from your lungs and heart and body. - -The rejuvenating air didn't make up for McLaren's weight, however. -Presently Harker said, "Hold it," and sat down, tumbling McLaren gently -onto the grass. The girl stopped. She came back a little way and -watched Harker, who was blowing like a spent horse. He grinned up at -her. - -"I'm shot," he said. "I've been too busy for a man of my age. Can't you -get hold of somebody to help me carry him?" - -Again she studied him with puzzled fascination. Night was closing in, -a clear indigo, less dark than at sea level. Her eyes had a curious -luminosity in the gloom. - -"Why do you do that?" she asked. - -"Do what?" - -"Carry it." - -By "it" Harker guessed she meant McLaren. He was suddenly, coldly -conscious of a chasm between them that no amount of explanation could -bridge. "He's my friend. He's ... I have to." - -She studied his thought and then shook her head. "I don't understand. -It's spoiled--" her thought-image was a combination of "broken," -"finished," and "useless"--"Why carry it around?" - -"McLaren's not an 'it.' He's a man like me, my friend. He's hurt, and I -have to help him." - -"I don't understand." Her shrug said it was his funeral, also that -he was crazy. She started on again, paying no attention to Harker's -call for her to wait. Perforce, Harker picked up McLaren and staggered -on again. He wished Sim were here, and immediately wished he hadn't -thought of Sim. He hoped Sim had died quickly before--before what? "_Oh -God, it's dark and I'm scared and my belly's all gone to cold water, -and that thing trotting ahead of me through the blue haze...._" - -The thing was beautiful, though. Beautifully formed, fascinating, -a curved slender gleam of moonlight, a chaliced flower holding the -mystic, scented nectar of the unreal, the unknown, the undiscovered. -Harker's blood began, in spite of himself, to throb with a deep -excitement. - -They came under the fragrant shadows of the trees. The forest was open, -with broad mossy rides and clearings. There were flowers underfoot, but -no brush, and clumps of ferns. The girl stopped and stretched up her -hand. A feathery branch, high out of her reach, bent and brushed her -face, and she plucked a great pale blossom and set it in her hair. - -She turned and smiled at Harker. He began to tremble, partly with -weariness, partly with something else. - -"How do you do that?" he asked. - -She was puzzled. "The branch, you mean? Oh, that!" She laughed. It was -the first sound he had heard her make, and it shot through him like -warm silver. "I just think I would like a flower, and it comes." - -Teleportation, telekinetic energy--what did the books call it? Back -on Earth they knew something about that, but the colony hadn't had -much time to study even its own meager library. There had been some -religious sect that could make roses bend into their hands. Old wisdom, -the force behind the Biblical miracles, just the infinite power of -thought. Very simple. Yeah. Harker wondered uneasily whether she could -work it on him, too. But then, he had a brain of his own. Or did he? - -"What's your name?" he asked. - -She gave a clear, trilled sound. Harker tried to whistle it and gave -up. Some sort of tone-language, he guessed, without words as he knew -them. It sounded as though they--her people, whatever they were--had -copied the birds. - -"I'll call you Button," he said. "Bachelor Button--but you wouldn't -know." - -She picked the image out of his mind and sent it back to him. Blue -fringe-topped flowers nodding in his mother's china bowl. She laughed -again and sent her black birds away and led on into the forest, calling -out like an oriole. Other voices answered her, and presently, racing -the light wind between the trees, her people came. - - * * * * * - -They were like her. There were males, slender little creatures like -young boys, and girls like Button. There were several hundred of -them, all naked, all laughing and curious, their lithe pliant bodies -flitting moth-fashion through the indigo shadows. They were topped with -petals--Harker called them that, though he still wasn't sure--of all -colors from blood-scarlet to pure white. - -They trilled back and forth. Apparently Button was telling them all -about how she found Harker and McLaren. The whole mob pushed on slowly -through the forest and ended finally in a huge clearing where there -were only scattered trees. A spring rose and made a little lake, and -then a stream that wandered off among the ferns. - -More of the little people came, and now he saw the young ones. All -sizes, from tiny thin creatures on up, replicas of their elders. There -were no old ones. There were none with imperfect or injured bodies. -Harker, exhausted and on the thin edge of a fever-bout, was not -encouraged. - -He set McLaren down by the spring. He drank, gasping like an animal, -and bathed his head and shoulders. The forest people stood in a circle, -watching. They were silent now. Harker felt coarse and bestial, -somehow, as though he had belched loudly in church. - -He turned to McLaren. He bathed him, helped him drink, and set about -fixing the leg. He needed light, and he needed flame. - -There were dry leaves, and mats of dead moss in the rocks around the -spring. He gathered a pile of these. The forest people watched. Their -silent luminous stare got on Harker's nerves. His hands were shaking so -that he made four tries with his flint and steel before he got a spark. - -The tiny flicker made the silent ranks stir sharply. He blew on it. The -flames licked up, small and pale at first, then taking hold, growing, -crackling. He saw their faces in the springing light, their eyes -stretched with terror. A shrill crying broke from them and then they -were gone, like rustling leaves before a wind. - -Harker drew his knife. The forest was quiet now. Quiet but not at rest. -The skin crawled on Harker's back, over his scalp, drew tight on his -cheekbones. He passed the blade through the flame. McLaren looked up at -him. Harker said, "It's okay, Rory," and hit him carefully on the point -of the jaw. McLaren lay still. Harker stretched out the swollen leg and -went to work. - - * * * * * - -It was dawn again. He lay by the spring in the cool grass, the ashes of -his fire grey and dead beside the dark stains. He felt rested, relaxed, -and the fever seemed to have gone out of him. The air was like wine. - -He rolled over on his back. There was a wind blowing. It was a live, -strong wind, with a certain smell to it. The trees were rollicking, -almost shouting with pleasure. Harker breathed deeply. The smell, the -pure clean edge.... - -Suddenly he realized that the clouds were high, higher than he had ever -known them to be. The wind swept them up, and the daylight was bright, -so bright that.... - -Harker sprang up. The blood rushed in him. There was a stinging blur -in his eyes. He began to run, toward a tall tree, and he flung himself -upward into the branches and climbed, recklessly, into the swaying top. - -The bowl of the valley lay below him, green, rich, and lovely. The grey -granite cliffs rose around it, grew higher in the direction from which -the wind blew. Higher and higher, and beyond them, far beyond, were -mountains, flung towering against the sky. - -On the mountains, showing through the whipping veils of cloud, there -was snow, white and cold and blindingly pure, and as Harker watched -there was a gleam, so quick and fleeting that he saw it more with his -heart than with his eyes.... - -Sunlight. Snowfields, and above them, the sun. - -After a long time he clambered down again into the silence of the -glade. He stood there, not moving, seeing what he had not had time to -see before. - -Rory McLaren was gone. Both packs, with food and climbing ropes and -bandages and flint-and-steel were gone. The short spears were gone. -Feeling on his hip, Harker found nothing but bare flesh. His knife and -even his breech-clout had been taken. - -A slender, exquisite body moved forward from the shadows of the trees. -Huge white blossoms gleamed against the curly blue that crowned the -head. Luminous eyes glanced up at Harker, full of mockery and a subtle -animation. Button smiled. - -Matt Harker walked toward Button, not hurrying, his hard sinewy face -blank of expression. He tried to keep his mind that way, too. "Where is -the other one; my friend?" - -"In the finish-place." She nodded vaguely toward the cliffs near where -Harker and McLaren had escaped from the caves. Her thought-image was -somewhere between rubbish-heap and cemetery, as nearly as Harker could -translate it. It was also completely casual, a little annoyed that time -should be wasted on such trifles. - -"Did you ... is he still alive?" - -"It was when we put it there. It will be all right, it will just wait -until it--stops. Like all of them." - -"Why was he moved? Why did you...." - -"It was ugly." Button shrugged. "It was broken, anyway." She stretched -her arms upward and lifted her head to the wind. A shiver of delight -ran through her. She smiled again at Harker, side-long. - -He tried to keep his anger hidden. He started walking again, not as -though he had any purpose in mind, bearing toward the cliffs. His -way lay past a bush with yellow flowers and thorny, pliant branches. -Suddenly it writhed and whipped him across the belly. He stopped short -and doubled over, hearing Button's laughter. - -When he straightened up she was in front of him. "It's red," she said, -surprised, and laid little pointed fingers on the scratches left by the -thorns. She seemed thrilled and fascinated by the color and feel of his -blood. Her fingers moved, probing the shape of his muscles, the texture -of his skin and the dark hair on his chest. They drew small lines of -fire along his neck, along the ridge of his jaw, touching his features -one by one, his eyelids, his black brows. - -"What are you?" whispered her mind to his. - -"This." Harker put his arms around her, slowly. Her flesh slid cool and -strange under his hands, sending an indescribable shudder through him, -partly pleasure, partly revulsion. He bent his head. Her eyes deepened, -lakes of blue fire, and then he found her lips. They were cool and -strange like the rest of her, pliant, scented with spice, the same -perfume that came with sudden overpowering sweetness from her curling -petals. - -Harker saw movement in the forest aisles, a clustering of bright -flower-heads. Button drew back. She took his hand and led him away, off -toward the river and the quiet ferny places along its banks. Glancing -up, Harker saw that the two black birds were following overhead. - - * * * * * - -"You are really plants, then? Flowers, like those?" He touched the -white blossoms on her head. - -"You are really a beast, then? Like the furry, snarling things that -climb up through the pass sometimes?" - -They both laughed. The sky above them was the color of clean fleece. -The warm earth and crushed ferns were sweet beneath them. "What pass?" -asked Harker. - -"Over there." She pointed off toward the rim of the valley. "It goes -down to the sea, I think. Long ago we used to go down there but there's -no need, and the beasts make it dangerous." - -"Do they," said Harker, and kissed her in the hollow below her chin. -"What happens when the beasts come?" - -Button laughed. Before he could stir Harker was trapped fast in a web -of creepers and tough fern, and the black birds were screeching and -clashing their sharp beaks in his face. - -"That happens," Button said. She stroked the ferns. "Our cousins -understand us, even better than the birds." - -Harker lay sweating, even after he was free again. Finally he said, -"Those creatures in the underground lake. Are they your cousins?" - -Button's fear-thought thrust against his mind like hands pushing away. -"No, don't.... Long, long ago the legend is that this valley was a -huge lake, and the Swimmers lived in it. They were a different species -from us, entirely. We came from the high gorges, where there are only -barren cliffs now. This was long ago. As the lake receded, we grew more -numerous and began to come down, and finally there was a battle and we -drove the Swimmers over the falls into the black lake. They have tried -and tried to get out, to get back to the light, but they can't. They -send their thoughts through to us sometimes. They...." She broke off. -"I don't want to talk about them any more." - -"How would you fight them if they did get out?" asked Harker easily. -"Just with the birds and the growing things?" - -Button was slow in answering. Then she said, "I will show you one -way." She laid her hand across his eyes. For a moment there was only -darkness. Then a picture began to form--people, his own people, seen as -reflections in a dim and distorted mirror but recognizable. They poured -into the valley through a notch in the cliffs, and instantly every -bush and tree and blade of grass was bent against them. They fought, -slashing with their knives, making headway, but slowly. And then, -across the plain, came a sort of fog, a thin drifting curtain of soft -white. - -It came closer, moving with force of its own, not heeding the wind. -Harker saw that it was thistledown. Seeds, borne on silky wings. It -settled over the people trapped in the brush. It was endless and -unhurrying, covering them all with a fine fleece. They began to writhe -and cry out with pain, with a terrible fear. They struggled, but they -couldn't get away. - -The white down dropped away from them. Their bodies were covered with -countless tiny green shoots, sucking the chemicals from the living -flesh and already beginning to grow. - -Button's spoken thought cut across the image. "I have seen your -thoughts, some of them, since the moment you came out of the caves. I -can't understand them, but I can see our plains gashed to the raw earth -and our trees cut down and everything made ugly. If your kind came -here, we would have to go. And the valley belongs to us." - -Matt Harker's brain lay still in the darkness of his skull, wary, drawn -in upon itself. "It belonged to the Swimmers first." - -"They couldn't hold it. We can." - -"Why did you save me, Button? What do you want of me?" - -"There was no danger from you. You were strange. I wanted to play with -you." - -"Do you love me, Button?" His fingers touched a large smooth stone -among the fern roots. - -"Love? What is that?" - -"It's tomorrow and yesterday. It's hoping and happiness and pain, the -complete self because it's selfless, the chain that binds you to life -and makes living it worth while. Do you understand?" - -"No. I grow, I take from the soil and the light, I play with the -others, with the birds and the wind and the flowers. When the time -comes I am ripe with seed, and after that I go to the finish-place and -wait. That's all I understand. That's all there is." - -He looked up into her eyes. A shudder crept over him. "You have no -soul, Button. That's the difference between us. You live, but you have -no soul." - -After that it was not so hard to do what he had to do. To do quickly, -very quickly, the thing that was his only faint chance of justifying -Sim's death. The thing that Button may have glimpsed in his mind but -could not guard against, because there was no understanding in her of -the thought of murder. - - - IV - -The black birds darted at Harker, but the compulsion that sent them -flickered out too soon. The ferns and creepers shook, and then were -still, and the birds flew heavily away. Matt Harker stood up. - -He thought he might have a little time. The flower-people probably -kept in pretty close touch mentally, but perhaps they wouldn't notice -Button's absence for a while. Perhaps they weren't prying into his own -thoughts, because he was Button's toy. Perhaps.... - -He began to run, toward the cliffs where the finish-place was. He kept -as much as possible in the open, away from shrubs. He did not look -again, before he left, at what lay by his feet. - -He was close to his destination when he knew that he was spotted. -The birds returned, rushing down at him on black whistling wings. He -picked up a dead branch to beat them off and it crumbled in his hands. -Telekinesis, the power of mind over matter. Harker had read once that -if you knew how you could always make your point by thinking the dice -into position. He wished he could think himself up a blaster. Curved -beaks ripped his arms. He covered his face and grabbed one of the birds -by the neck and killed it. The other one screamed and this time Harker -wasn't so lucky. By the time he had killed the second one he'd felt -claws in him and his face was laid open along the cheekbones. He began -to run again. - -Bushes swayed toward him as he passed. Thorny branches stretched. -Creepers rose like snakes from the grass, and every green blade was -turned knife-like against his feet. But he had already reached the -cliffs and there were open rocky spaces and the undergrowth was thin. - -He knew he was near the finish-place because he could smell it. The -gentle withered fragrance of flowers past their prime, and under that -a dead, sour decay. He shouted McLaren's name, sick with dread that -there might not be an answer, weak with relief when there was one. He -raced over tumbled rocks toward the sound. A small creeper tangled his -foot and brought him down. He wrenched it by the roots from its shallow -crevice and went on. As he glanced back over his shoulder he saw a thin -white veil, a tiny patch in the distant air, drifting toward him. - -He came to the finish-place. - -It was a box canyon, quite deep, with high sheer walls, so that it -was almost like a wide well. In the bottom of it bodies were thrown -in a dry, spongy heap. Colorless flower-bodies, withered and grey, an -incredible compost pile. - -Rory McLaren lay on top of it, apparently unhurt. The two packs were -beside him, with the weapons. Strewn over the heap, sitting, lying, -moving feebly about, were the ones who waited, as Button had put it, -to stop. Here were the aged, the faded and worn out, the imperfect and -injured, where their ugliness could not offend. They seemed already -dead mentally. They paid no attention to the men, nor to each other. -Sheer blind vitality kept them going a little longer, as a geranium -will bloom long after its cut stalk is desiccated. - -"Matt," McLaren said. "Oh, God, Matt, I'm glad to see you!" - -"Are you all right?" - -"Sure. My leg even feels pretty good. Can you get me out?" - -"Throw those packs up here." - -McLaren obeyed. He began to catch Harker's feverish mood, warned by -Harker's bleeding, ugly face that something nasty was afoot. Harker -explained rapidly while he got out one of the ropes and half hauled -McLaren out of the pit. The white veil was close now. Very close. - -"Can you walk?" Harker asked. - -McLaren glanced at the fleecy cloud. Harker had told him about it. "I -can walk," he said. "I can run like hell." - -Harker handed him the rope. "Get around the other side of the canyon. -Clear across, see?" He helped McLaren on with his pack. "Stand by with -the rope to pull me up. And keep to the bare rocks." - -McLaren went off. He limped badly, his face twisted with pain. Harker -swore. The cloud was so close that now he could see the millions of -tiny seeds floating on their silken fibres, thistledown guided by the -minds of the flower-people in the valley. He shrugged into his pack -straps and began winding bandages and tufts of dead grass around the -bone tip of a recovered spear. The edge of the cloud was almost on him -when he got a spark into the improvised torch and sprang down onto the -heap of dead flower-things in the pit. - -He sank and floundered on the treacherous surface, struggling across -it while he applied the torch. The dry, withered substance caught. He -raced the flames to the far wall and glanced back. The dying creatures -had not stirred, even when the fire engulfed them. Overhead, the edges -of the seed-cloud flared and crisped. It moved on blindly over the -fire. There was a pale flash of light and the cloud vanished in a puff -of smoke. - -"Rory!" Harker yelled. "Rory!" - - * * * * * - -For a long minute he stood there, coughing, strangling in thick smoke, -feeling the rushing heat crisp his skin. Then, when it was almost -too late, McLaren's sweating face appeared above him and the rope -snaked down. Tongues of flame flicked his backside angrily as he ran -monkey-fashion up the wall. - -They got away from there, higher on the rocky ground, slashing -occasionally with their knives at brush and creepers they could not -avoid. McLaren shuddered. - -"It's impossible," he said. "How do they do it?" - -"They're blood cousins. Or should I say sap. Anyhow, I suppose it's -like radio control--a matter of transmitting the right frequencies. -Here, take it easy a minute." - -McLaren sank down gratefully. Blood was seeping through the tight -bandages where Harker had incised his wound. Harker looked back into -the valley. - -The flower people were spread out in a long crescent, their bright -multi-colored heads clear against the green plain. Harker guessed that -they would be guarding the pass. He guessed that they had known what -was going on in his mind as well as Button had. New form of communism, -one mind for all and all for one mind. He could see that even without -McLaren's disability they couldn't make it to the pass. Not a mouse -could have made it. - -He wondered how soon the next seed-cloud would come. - -"What are we going to do, Matt? Is there any way...." McLaren wasn't -thinking about himself. He was looking at the valley like Lucifer -yearning at Paradise, and he was thinking of Viki. Not just Viki alone, -but Viki as a symbol of thirty-eight hundred wanderers on the face of -Venus. - -"I don't know," said Harker. "The pass is out, and the caves are -out ... hey! Remember when we were fighting off those critters by the -river and you nearly started a cave-in throwing rocks? There was a -fault there, right over the edge of the lake. An earthquake split. If -we could get at it from the top and shake it down...." - -It was a minute before McLaren caught on. His eyes widened. "A slide -would dam up the lake...." - -"If the level rose enough, the Swimmers could get out." Harker gazed -with sultry eyes at the bobbing flower heads below. - -"But if the valley's flooded, Matt, and those critters take over, where -does that leave our people?" - -"There wouldn't be too much of a slide, I don't think. The rock's -solid on both sides of the fault. And anyway, the weight of the water -backed up there would push through anything, even a concrete dam, in a -couple of weeks." Harker studied the valley floor intently. "See the -way that slopes there? Even if the slide didn't wash out, a little -digging would drain the flood off down the pass. We'd just be making a -new river." - -"Maybe." McLaren nodded. "I guess so. But that still leaves the -Swimmers. I don't think they'd be any nicer than these babies about -giving up their land." His tone said he would rather fight Button's -people any day. - -Harker's mouth twisted in a slow grin. "The Swimmers are water -creatures, Rory. Amphibious. Also, they've lived underground, in total -darkness, for God knows how long. You know what happens to angleworms -when you get 'em out in the light. You know what happens to fungus -that grows in the dark." He ran his fingers over his skin, almost with -reverence. "Noticed anything about yourself, Rory? Or have you been too -busy." - -McLaren stared. He rubbed his own skin, and winced, and rubbed again, -watching his fingers leave streaks of livid white that faded instantly. -"Sunburn," he said wonderingly. "My God. Sunburn!" - -Harker stood up. "Let's go take a look." Down below the flower heads -were agitated "They don't like that thought, Rory. Maybe it can be -done, and they know it." - -McLaren rose, leaning on a short spear like a cane. "Matt. They won't -let us get away with it." - -Harker frowned. "Button said there were other ways beside the seed...." -He turned away. "No use standing here worrying about it." - - * * * * * - -They started climbing again, very slowly on account of McLaren. Harker -tried to gauge where they were in relation to the cavern beneath. -The river made a good guide. The rocks were almost barren of growth -here, which was a godsend. He watched, but he couldn't see anything -threatening approaching from the valley. The flower people were mere -dots now, perfectly motionless. - -The rock formation changed abruptly. Ancient quakes had left scars in -the shape of twisted strata, great leaning slabs of granite poised -like dancers, and cracks that vanished into darkness. - -Harker stopped. "This is it. Listen, Rory. I want you to go off up -there, out of the danger area...." - -"Matt, I...." - -"Shut up. One of us has got to be alive to take word back to the ships -as soon as he can get through the valley. There's no great rush and -you'll be able to travel in three-four days. You...." - -"But why me? You're a better mountain man...." - -"You're married," said Harker curtly. "It'll only take one of us to -shove a couple of those big slabs down. They're practically ready to -fall of their own weight. Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe I'll get out -all right. But it's a little silly if both of us take the risk, isn't -it?" - -"Yeah. But Matt...." - -"Listen, kid." Harker's voice was oddly gentle. "I know what I'm doing. -Give my regards to Viki and the...." - -He broke off with a sharp cry of pain. Looking down incredulously, he -saw his body covered with little tentative flames, feeble, flickering, -gone, but leaving their red footprints behind them. - -McLaren had the same thing. - -They stared at each other. A helpless terror took Harker by the throat. -Telekinesis again. The flower people turning his own weapon against -them. They had seen fire, and what it did, and they were copying the -process in their own minds, concentrating, all of them together, the -whole mental force of the colony centered on the two men. He could -even understand why they focused on the skin. They had taken the -sunburn-thought and applied it literally. - -Fire. Spontaneous combustion. A simple, easy reaction, if you knew the -trick. There was something about a burning bush.... - -The attack came again, stronger this time. The flower people were -getting the feel of it now. It hurt. Oh God, it hurt. McLaren screamed. -His loincloth and bandages began to smoulder. - -_What to do, thought Harker, quick, tell me what to do...._ - -The flower people focus on us through our minds, our conscious minds. -Maybe they can't get the subconscious so easily, because the thoughts -are not directed, they're images, symbols, vague things. Maybe if Rory -couldn't think consciously they couldn't find him.... - -Another flare of burning, agonizing pain. In a minute they'll have the -feel of it. They can keep it going.... - -Without warning, Harker slugged McLaren heavily on the jaw and dragged -him away to where the rock was firm. He did it all with astonishing -strength and quickness. There was no need to save himself. He wasn't -going to need himself much longer. - -He went away a hundred feet or so, watching McLaren. A third attack -struck him, sickened and dazed him so that he nearly fell. Rory McLaren -was not touched. - -Harker smiled. He turned and ran back toward the rotten place in -the cliffs. A part of his conscious thought was so strongly formed -that his body obeyed it automatically, not stopping even when the -flames appeared again and again on his flesh, brightening, growing, -strengthening as the thought-energies of Button's people meshed -together. He flung down one teetering giant of stone, and the shock -jarred another loose. Harker stumbled on to a third, based on a sliding -bed of shale, and thrust with all his strength and beyond it, and it -went too, with crashing thunder. - -Harker fell. The universe dissolved into shuddering, roaring chaos -beyond a bright veil of flame and a smell of burning flesh. By that -time there was only one thing clear in Matt Harker's understanding--the -second part of his conscious mind, linked to and even stronger than the -first. - -The image he carried with him into death was a tall mountain with snow -on its shoulders, blazing in the sun. - - * * * * * - -It was night. Rory McLaren lay prone on a jutting shelf above the -valley. Below him the valley was lost in indigo shadows, but there was -a new sound in it--the swirl of water, angry and swift. There was new -life in it, too. It rode the crest of the flood waters, burning gold -in the blue night, shining giants returning in vengeance to their own -place. Great patches of blazing jewel-toned phosphorescence dotted the -water--the flower-hounds, turned loose to hunt. And in between them, -rolling and leaping in deadly play, the young of the Swimmers went. - -McLaren watched them hunt the forest people. He watched all night, -shivering with dread, while the golden titans exacted payment for the -ages they had lived in darkness. By dawn it was all over. And then, -through the day, he watched the Swimmers die. - -The river, turned back on itself, barred them from the caves. The -strong bright light beat down. The Swimmers turned at first to greet it -with a pathetic joy. And then they realized.... - -McLaren turned away. He waited, resting, until, as Harker had -predicted, the block washed away and the backed-up water could flow -normally again. The valley was already draining when he found the pass. -He looked up at the mountains and breathed the sweet wind, and felt a -great shame and humility that he was here to do it. - -He looked back toward the caves where Sim had died, and the cliffs -above where he had buried what remained of Matt Harker. It seemed -to him that he should say something, but no words came, only that -his chest was so full he could hardly breathe. He turned mutely down -the rocky pass, toward the Sea of Morning Opals and the thirty-eight -hundred wanderers who had found a home. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Vanishing Venusians, by Leigh Brackett - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VANISHING VENUSIANS *** - -***** This file should be named 63516.txt or 63516.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/1/63516/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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