"The Soul Empty Ones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Walter M)

"Only a few months," she replied. "He stole me from my father in the spring."
Falon reflected briefly that the Natani marriage customs were different than those of the valley peoples, who formally purchased a wife from her parents. The Natani pretended to be more forceful, but the "wife stealing" could be anything from a simple elopement, agreeable even to the parents, to a real kidnaping, involving a reluctant bride. He decided not to press the question.
"Among my people," he said, "I would ask you to be my wifeЧso that you would not be disgraced by returning to your father's house." He hesitated, watching the girl's trim back swaying in the half-light of the moon. "How would you answer me?"
She shook her head, making her dark hair dance. "Doesn't a valley widow mourn?"
"To mourn is to pity oneself. The dead feel nothing. The mourner does not pity the dead. He pities himself for having lost the living."
She glanced back at him over her shoulder. "You speak as if you believe these things. I thought you were renouncing your people?"
"There is some wisdom, and some foolishness, in every people's way. But you haven't answered my question."
She shrugged. "We are not among your people, Falon." Then her voice softened, "I watched you fight the old one. You are quick and strong, and your mind is good. You would be a good man. Dauer was a gloomy one. He treated me well, except when I tried to run away at first. But he never laughed. Do you ever laugh, Falon?"
Embarrassed, he said nothing.
"But this is pointless," she said, "for I am a daughter of my people."
"Do you still intend," he asked nervously, "to follow your husband to the wild dogs?"
She nodded silently, then, after a thoughtful moment, asked, "Do you believe it's foolishnessЧto try to kill some of the invader?"
Falon weighed it carefully. His defiance of his own law might weaken her resolve, if he persisted in trying to convince her against the suicidal attempts. But he spoke sadly.
"We are the Soul-Empty Ones. There are many of us in the world. If one invader could be killed for every dozen they kill of us, we would win. No, Ea, I don't think it's foolishness to fight for lives. But I think it's foolishness to fight for tribes, or to give your-self to the wild dogs."
She reined her horse around a bend in the trail, then halted to stare out at the distant bonfires. "I'll tell you why we do that, Falon. There's a legend among my people that the wild dogs were once the pets of Man, of Soul-Man, I mean. And it is said that the dogs scent the soul, and will not devour true Soul-Flesh. And the legend is also a prophecy. It says that someday, children will be born to the Natani who are Soul-ChildrenЧand that the wild dogs
will again know their masters, and come to lick their hands. The Natani drag themselves to the forest when they die, in the hope that the dogs will not molest them. Then they will know that the prophecy has come, and the dead will go to the Place of Watching, as the Soul-Men who made us did go."
She spurred her horse gently and moved on. But Falon was still staring at the bonfires. Why did the invader keep them burning nightly? Of what were they afraid in the darkness?
"I wonder if the dogs could scent the souls of the sons of menЧof the invaders," he mused aloud.
"Certainly!" she said flatly.

Falon wondered about the source of her certaintyЧfrom legend or from fact. But he felt that he had questioned her enough. They rode for several miles in silence, moving slowly along the down-going trail. The forests to their flanks were as usual, wailing with the cries of the dog packs.
Falon reined up suddenly. He hissed at Ea-Daner to halt, then rode up beside her. The dim shadow of her face questioned him. "Listen! Up ahead!"
They paused in immobility, trying to sort out the soundsЧthe dog packs, a nightbird's cry, the horses' wet breathing, and
"Dogs," murmured Ea-Daner. "Feeding on a carcass in the pathway. Their growlsЧ" Suddenly she stiffened and made a small sound of terror in her throat. "Do you suppose it could beЧ"
"No, no!" he assured her quickly. "A wounded man couldn't come this far on foot. And you heardЧ"
She was sobbing again. "Follow me," grunted Falon, and trotted on ahead. He found the sharp dog-spikes in his saddlebag and fitted them onto the toes of his sandals. They were six inches of gleaming steel, and sharpened to needlelike points. He called to the girl to do the same. The dogs usually weighed the odds care-fully before they attacked a horseman. But if interrupted at meal-time, they were apt to be irritable. He unwound a short coil of rawhide to use as a whip.
He passed a turn in the trail. A dozen of the gaunt, white animals were snarling in a cluster about something that lay on the ground. Their dim writhing shadows made a ghostly spectacle as Falon spurred his mount to a gallop, and howled a shrill cry to startle them.
"Hi-yeee! Yee yee!"
Massive canine heads lifted in the wind. Then the pack burst apart. These were not the dogs left by Man, but only their changed descendants. They scurried toward the shadows, then formed a loose ring that closed about the horsemen as they burst into the midst. A dog leaped for Falon's thigh, then fell back yelping as the toe-spike stabbed his throat. The horse reared as another leaped at his neck, and the hoofs beat at the savage hound.
"Try to ride them down!" Falon shouted to the girl. "Ride in a tight circle!"
Ea-Daner began galloping her stallion at a ten-foot radius from the bleeding figure on the ground. She was shrieking unfeminine curses at the brutes as she lashed out with her whip and her spike. Falon reined to a halt within the circle and dismounted. He was inviting a torn throat if a dog dared to slip past Ea. But he knelt be-side the body, and started to lift it in his arms. Then he paused.
At first, he thought that the creature was an invader. It was scrawny and small-boned, but its body was not covered with the black fur. Neither was it a Soul-Empty OneЧfor in designing the Empties, Man had seen no reason to give them separate toes. But Falon paused to long.
"Dog! Look out!" screamed the girl.
Falon reflexively hunched his chin against his chest and guarded his abdomen with his arms as he drew his war knife. A hurtling body knocked him off balance, and long fangs tore savagely at his face. He howled with fear and rage as he fell on his back. The dog was straddling him, and roaring fiercely as he mauled Falon's face and tried to get at his throat.
Falon locked his legs about the beast's belly, arched his body, and stretched away. The great forepaws tore at his chest as he rolled onto his side and began stabbing blindly at the massive head, aiming for a point just below the ear, and trying to avoid the snapping jaws. As the knife bit home, the fangs sank in his armЧthen relaxed slightly. With his other hand, Falon forced the weakening jaws apart, pressed the knife deeper, and crunched it through thin bone to the base of the brain. The animal fell aside.
Panting, he climbed to his feet and seized the animal by the hind legs. The girl was still riding her shrieking circuit, too fast for the dogs to attack. Falon swung the dead carcass about him, then heaved it toward the pack. Two others leaped upon it. The rest
paused in their snarling pursuit of the horse. They trotted toward their limp comrade. Falon mounted his stallion quickly. "Draw up beside me here!" he shouted to the girl.
She obeyed, and they stood flank to flank with the man-thing on the ground between `them. The pack swarmed about the dead one. "Look, they're dragging it away!" said Ea.
"They see they can have a feast without a fight," Falon muttered.
A few seconds later, the pack had dragged the carcass back into the forest, leaving the horsemen in peace. Ea glanced down at the man-thing.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I don't know. But I think it's still alive." Dismounting, he knelt again beside the frail body, and felt for a heartbeat. It was faintly perceptible, but blood leaked from a thousand gashes. A moan came from its throat. Falon saw that it was hopelessly mutilated.
"What are you?" he asked gently.
The man-thing's eyes were open. They wandered toward the crescent moon, then found Falon's hulking shadow.
"You . . . you lookЧ Are you a man?" the thing murmured in a tongue that Falon had studied for tribal ritual.
"He speaks the ancient holy language," Falon gasped. Then he answered in kind. "Are you an invader?"
Dim comprehension came into the eyes. "You . . . are an . . . android."
Falon shook his head. "I am a Soul-Empty One."
The eyes wandered toward the moon again. "I . . . escaped them. I was looking for . . your camps. The dogsЧ" His speech trailed off and the eyes grew dull.
Falon felt for the heartbeat, then shook his head. Gently, he lifted the body, ,and tied it securely behind his saddle. "Whoever he is, we'll bury him, after the sun rises." He noticed that Ea made no comment about the relative merits of tribal death-customs, de-spite the fact that she must feel repugnance toward burial.