"WHEN'S BLAST-OFF?" Cully was boring holes in the sand with one
finger, restless away from his machines.
Dard glanced along the line of the six men who had accompanied
him down to the shore. They sat cross-legged in the sand with
strict orders to keep quiet and wait. The first meeting between the
Terrans and the representatives of the merpeople had been scheduled
for this afternoon—if he had been able to get the idea across in
gestures alone.
Spread out on the shore several feet above the water level were
those gifts the Terrans believed might please sea dwellers. Some
nested plastic bowls made a bright-colored spot, a collection of
empty bottles of various sizes, hastily assembled from laboratory
supplies, golden apples, native grain, all there together. Objects
which could be used under water had been hard to find.
"They're coming!" Dessie had been waiting impatiently by the
waves' sweep, and now, heedless of the water curling about her
legs, she ran forward, holding out her hands to the merchild who
threshed up a fountain of spray in its eagerness to meet her. Hand
in hand they pattered to dry land where the merchild shrank shyly
against the little girl when it saw the men.
But Dessie was smiling, and said importantly, "Ssssat and
Ssssutu are coming now."
Dard hid his surprise. How could Dessie so confidently mouth
those queer names—how did she know? From all his questioning and
Kimber's and Kordov's and Carlee's last night, they had only been
able to elicit that the "sea people thought into her head." They
had been forced to accept the concept of telepathy—which could be
possible with an undersea race.
So, deciding that Dessie's interpretation might be needed that
day, they had schooled her in her part.
Ssssat and Ssssutu—if those were the proper designations of the
mermen who were borne in with the next wave—came ashore. They both
carried the barbed spears and wore long bone daggers at the belts
which were their only articles of clothing. Without a sound they
seated themselves on the seaside of the gifts, facing Dard,
regarding him and the other Terrans with owlish solemnity.
"Dessie!" Dard called, and she came trotting to him.
"Do I give the presents now, Dard?"
"Yes. Try to make them understand that we want to be
friends."
She picked out two of the bowls, put an apple and a handful of
grain into each, and carried them over to set down before the
envoys.
The one on Dard's right held out his hand and Dessie, without
hesitation, laid hers, palm down, upon it. For a long moment they
made contact. Then both mermen relaxed their tense watchfulness.
They put their spears behind them and one ran his hands through the
fur on his head and shoulders where it was fast drying into rainbow
dotted fluff.
"They want to be friends, too," Dessie reported. "Dardie, if you
put your hand on theirs, then they can talk to you. They don't talk
with their mouths at all. This is Ssssat—"
Dard got to his feet slowly so as not to alarm the mermen and
crossed the strip of shore until he could sit face to face. Then he
held out his hand. Cool and damp the scaled digits and palm of the
other lay upon his warmer flesh. And, Dard almost broke the contact
in his surprise and awe, for the other was talking to him! Words,
ideas, swept into his mind—some concepts so alien he could not
understand. But bit by bit he pieced together much of what the
other was striving to tell him.
"Big ones, land dwellers, we have watched you—with fear. Fear
that you have come to lead us once more into the pens of
darkness—"
"Pens of darkness?" Dard echoed aloud and then shaped a mental
query.
"Those who once walked the land here—they kept the pens of
darkness where our fathers' fathers' fathers' "—the concept of
a long stretch of past time trailed through the Terran's receptive
mind—"were hatched. The days of fire came and we broke forth and
now we shall never return." There was stern warning, an implied
threat, in that.
"We know nothing of the pens, nor do we threaten you," Dard
thought slowly. "We, too, have broken out of pens of darkness," he
added with sudden inspiration.
"It is true that you are not the color or shape of those who
made the pens. And you have shown only friendship. Also you killed
the flying death which would have slain my cub. I believe that you
are good. Will you stay here?""
Dard pointed inland. "We build there."
"Do you wish the fruits of the river?" came next.
"The fruits of the river?" Dard was puzzled until a clear picture
of one of the red spider plants formed in his mind. Then he shook
his head to reinforce his unspoken denial.
"We may then come and harvest as we have always done? And,"
there was a shrewd bargaining note in this, "perhaps you will see
that the flying death does not attack us, since your slaying powers
are greater than ours?"
"We like the dragons no better than you do. Let me speak with
the others now—" Dard broke contact and reported to the Terran
committee.
"Sure!" Santee's jovial boom could not be kept to a whisper and
at the sound, or its vibration, both mermen started. "Let 'em come
in and get their spiders. I'll watch for dragons."
"Fair enough," Kimber agreed. "We don't care for the dragons any
more than they do."
Before the hour had passed cordial relations had been
established, and the mermen promised to return early the next
morning with their harvest crew. Carrying the gifts they waded out
into the sea, Ssssat's cub riding on his father's shoulder. The
little one waved back at Dessie until all three disappeared under
water.
"Those pens they spoke of," Kordov mused later that night when
they discussed the meeting in an open convocation of all the
voyagers. "They must have been imprisoned at one time by the city
builders and escaped during or after the war. But surely they
weren't domestic animals."
"More likely slaves," suggested Carlee Skort. "Perhaps they were
forced to do undersea work where landsmen could not venture. They
are coming tomorrow? Well, why can't we all go down and meet them?
Maybe we can help in the harvesting and prove our good will."
The clamor which interrupted and supported her was indicative of
the enthusiasm of the rest. Dessie's merpeople had caught the
imaginations of all. And Dard believed that the Terrans would have
gone to meet them in any case.
Early as the colonists came down to the river bank the next
morning, the merpeople were there before them, wading along the
shallows of the slowly flowing stream, sweeping between them woven
basket nets, as fine as sieves, to skim up the red fungi.
Merchildren paddled in and out, and a line of spear-bearing males
patrolled the shoreline with attention for the cliff perches of the
dragons.
They stopped all these activities as the Terrans came into
sight, and when they began again it was with a certain self-consciousness. Dard and the others who had been on the seashore the
day before went up to meet the sea people, their hands
outstretched.
A party of the armed males split off to face them. In the center
of their group was one portly individual who, though there was no
way save by size for the humans to guess at merman ages, gave the
impression of dignity and authority.
Dard touched palms with the leading warrior.
"This is Aaaatak, our "Friend of Many." He would communicate
with your "Giver of Law.'"
"Giver of Law." Kordov came the nearest to being the leader of
the colonists. Dard beckoned to the First Scientist.
"This is their chieftain, sir. He wants to speak to our
leader."
"So? I can not call myself leader," Kordov met the hands of the
older merman, "but I am honored to speak to him." As Kordov and the
merchief clasped hands the rest of the colonists came up, timidly.
But an hour later merpeople and humans mingled with freedom. And
when the Terran party set out food, the mermen brought in their own
supplies, flat baskets of fish and aquatic plants, kept in water
until time to eat. They accepted the golden apples eagerly, but
kept away from the fires where their hosts cooked the fish they
offered in return. Although each fire had a ring of amazed
spectators, standing at a safe distance to gaze at the wonder.
Three dragons that dared to invade were brought down with rays,
to the savage exultation of the merpeople. They asked to inspect
the weapons and returned them regretfully when they understood that
such arms would not last in their water world.
"Though," Cully said thoughtfully, when this had been explained,
"I don't see why they couldn't use some of the metal forged by
Those Others. It seems to resist rust and erosion on land—it might
in the water."
"Nordis!"
The urgency in that call brought Dard away from the engineer to
the small group of Kimber, Kordov, the mer-chief and several
others. Harmon was there, as well as Santee, and some
techneers.
"Yes, sir?"
"You've seen the lizards, ask Aaaatak if those are what he is
trying to tall us about. We can't get the right impression of what
he means and it seems to be vitally important." Kordov edged back
for the boy to take his place. Dard clasped the readily extended
claws of the merchief.
"Do you wish to tell us about—" He shut his eyes in order to
concentrate better upon a mental image of the huge reptiles.
"No!" The answer was a decided negative. "Those we have seen,
yes—hunting down other land dwellers. They were once subordinate to
those we speak of now. These—"
Another picture indeed—a biped—humanoid in outline—but somehow
all wrong. Dard had seen nothing like it. And the image was fuzzy,
indistinct as if he observed it from a distance—or through
water!
Through water! That was caught up eagerly by Aaaatak.
"Now you are thinking straight. We do not come out of hiding
when those are about! So we see them in that fashion—"
"They live on land then? Near here?" Dard demanded. The emotion
of fear colored so strongly all the impressions he received from
the merchief.
"They live on land, yes. Near here, no, or we should not be
here. We hunt out shores where they do not come. Once they were
very, very many, living everywhere—here—across the sea. They were
the builders of those pens where creatures of my kind were
imprisoned for them to work their will upon. Then something
happened. There came fire raining from the sky, and a sickness
which struck them. They died, some quickly, some much more slowly,
when my people burst from the pens." There was a cold and deadly
satisfaction in that flash of memory. "After that we fled into the
wilds of the sea where they could not find us. Even when I was but
a new-hatched cub we lived in the depths. But through the years our
young warriors went out to search for food and for a safer place to
live—there are monsters in the deeps as horrible as the lizards of
the land. And these parties discovered that those"—again Dard saw
the queer biped—"were gone from long stretches among the reefs, as
we had always longed to do.
"There are none of those left in this land now but—" The chief
hesitated before suddenly withdrawing his hand from Dard's and
turning to his followers as if consulting them. Dad took the
opportunity to translate to the others what he had learned.
"Survivors of Those Others," Kimber caught him up. "But not
here?"
"No. Aaaatak says that his people will not come where they are.
Wait—he has more to tell."
For Aaaatak was holding out his hand and Dard met it
readily.
"My people now believe that you are not like those. You do not
seem in body quite the same, your skin is of a different color," he
drew his claw finger across the back of Dard's hand to emphasize
his meaning, "and you have received us as one free people greets
another. This those others do not—there is much hate and bitterness
between us from the far past—and they always delight in
killing.
"We have watched you ever since you first came out of the sky.
Those others once traveled in the sky—though of late we have not
seen their bird ships—and so we thought you of the same breed. Now
we know that that is untrue. But we must tell you—be on your
guard! For on the other side of the sea those others still live,
even if their numbers are few, and there is a blackness in their
minds which leads them to raise spears against all living
things!
"Now," Dard had a strong impression that the merchief was coming
to the main point, "we are a people who know much about the sea,
but little of the land. We have learned that you are not native to
this world, having fallen from the sky—but, did you not also say
that you came from a place where you, too, were penned by
enemies?"
Dard assented, remembering his statement to the first
envoys.
"If you are wise you will not seek out those who would lay such
bonds upon you again. For that is what those others will do. In
this world they recognize no other rights or desires than are born
of their own wills. We have warriors of our race who keep watch
upon them secretly and bring news of their coming and going.
Against their might—though they have lost much of their ancient
knowledge—we have only our own cunning and knowledge of the sea.
And what good is a spear against that which may kill at a distance?
But you have mightier weapons. And should we two peoples join
skills and hearts against them—But do you now say this to your
Giver of Laws and other Elder Ones so that they may understand." He
withdrew his hand again and left Dard in interpret.
"An alliance!" Tas Kordov caught the meaning of that offer.
Hmm," he plucked his lower lip. "Better tell him— No, let me. I'll
explain that we shall talk it over."
"What's all this 'bout Those Others?" Harmon demanded. "Did they," he indicated the merpeople, "say that they're still
here—the ones who lived in that city?"
"Not here—across the sea," Dard was beginning when Rogan broke
in.
"That chieftain doesn't think much of them, does he?"
"He says they're enemies."
"They aren't his kind," Harmon pointed out. "And his people were
their slaves once."
"We," Kimber said slowly, "have had some experience with slavery
ourselves, haven't we? On Terra we'd have been in labor camps, if
we hadn't been lucky—that is if we weren't shot down in cold blood.
I have a pretty good memory of the last few years there."
Harmon sifted a palmful of sand from one hand to another.
"Yeah, I know. Only we don't want to get into no local war."
That echoed after his voice died away. No entangling alliances
to drag them into any war! Dard sensed the electric agreement which
ran through them at that thought. Only Kimber, Santee, and maybe
Kordov, did not wholly agree with Harmon.
Dard gazed down to the river bank. The merpeople had almost
completed the harvest and were gathering up their possessions and
slipping in family groups back to the sea. He wondered what Kordov
would tell the chief.
Suddenly he could not stand the uncertainty any longer. He
wanted to get away—to escape from the thought that perhaps it was
going to start all over again—the insecurity— the constant guard
duty against a hostile force.
According to the merchief Those Others were now across the
sea—but would they remain there? Wouldn't this fertile, deserted
land where they had once ruled draw them back again? And they would
not accept new settlers kindly.
If the Terrans only knew more about them! Those Others had
blasted their world. Dard remembered the callous cruelty of that
barn in the valley. Raids, looting, the blasted city, the
robot-controlled guns to shoot anything passing out of the air, the
warnings of the merpeople.
He plodded across the sand to the inner valley, beading for the
cliff house. Rogan had set up the projector the night before, and
they had put the first of the discovered tapes in it. If something
about the rulers of this world could be learned from those—this was
the time to do it!
"Where're you bound for, kid?" Kimber fell into step.
"The cliffs." Dard was being pushed by the feeling that time was
not his to waste, that he must know—now!
The pilot asked no more questions but followed Dard into the
rock cell where Rogan had installed his machine. The boy checked
the preparation made the night before. He turned off the light—the
screen on the wall was a glowing square of blue-white and then the
projector began to hum.
"This one of those rolls from the carrier?"
But Dard did not answer. For now the screen was in use. He began
to watch . . .
"Turn it off! Turn that off!"
His frenzied fingers found the proper button. They were
surrounded by honest light, clean red-yellow walls.
Kimber's face was in his hands, the harshness of his breathing
filled the room. Dard, shaken, sick, dared not move. He gripped the
edge of the shelf which supported the projector, gripped so tightly
that the flesh under his nails turned dead white. He tried to
concentrate upon that phenomenon—not on what he had just seen.
"What—what did you see?" he moistened his lips and asked dully.
He had to know. Maybe it was only his own reaction. But—but it
couldn't be! The very thought that only he had seen that led to
panic—to a terror beyond bearing.
"I don't know . . . " Kimber's answer dragged out of him word by
painful word. "It wasn't meant—ever meant for man—our kind of
man—to see—"
Dard raised his head, made himself stare at that innocuous
screen, to assure himself that there was nothing there now.
"It did something to me—inside," he half whispered.
"It was meant to, I think. But—Great Lord—what sort of
minds—feelings—did they have! Not human—totally alien. We have
no common meeting point—we never shall have—with that!"
"And it was all just color, twisting, turning color," Dard
began.
Kimber's hand closed about his wrist with crushing intensity.
"I was right," Dard did not feel the pain of that grip, "they
used color as a means of communication. But—but—"
"What they had to say with it! Yes, not for us—never for us.
Keep your mind off it, Dard. Five minutes more of that and you
might not have been human—ever again!"
"We couldn't establish contact with them—with—"
"Minds that could conceive that? No, we can't. So that was what
brought you here—you wanted to see if Harmon was right in his
neutral policy? Now you know—with that we have no common ground.
And we'll have to make the others understand. If we do meet Those
Others—the result will undoubtedly be war."
"Fifty-three of us—maybe a whole nation of them left." Dard was
still sick and shaken—sensing a deep inner violation.
First there had been the tyranny of Pax, which had been man-made
and so understandable, in all its narrow cruelty, because it had
been the work of human beings. And now this—which man dared
not—touch!
Kimber had regained control of himself. There was even a trace
of the familiar impish grin on his face as he said:
"When the fighting is the toughest, that's when our breed digs
in toes. And we needn't borrow trouble. Get Kordov and Harmon in
here. If we are going to discuss the offer of the mermen we want
them to know what to expect from overseas."
But—to Dard's dismay—the projection of Those Others' tapes
aroused in Harmon no more than a vague uneasiness —though it shook
Kordov. And, as they insisted on the rest of the men viewing it,
they discovered that it varied in its effects upon different
individuals. Rogan, sensitive to communication devices, almost
fainted after a few moments' strict attention. Santee admitted that
he did not like it but couldn't say why. But, in the end, the
weight of evidence was that they could not hope to deal with Those
Others.
"I'm still sayin'," Harmon insisted, "that we shouldn't get
pulled into anything them sea people has started. You say them
pictures make Those Others regular devils. Well, they're still
across the sea. We shouldn't go lookin' for trouble—then maybe we
don't find none!"
"We're not suggesting an expeditionary force, Tim," Kimber
answered mildly. "But if they are alive overseas they may just get
the idea to reclaim this land—and you'd want to know about it
ahead of time if they did. The mermen will keep us informed. Then
we could supply them with better arms."
"Yeah, and right there you've got trouble! You make sea-goin'
ray guns and the first thing you know they're gonna use 'em. They
hate Those Others don't they? Back on earth we picked off a
Peaceman whenever we got the chance, didn't we? And let that happen
a coupla times and Those Others are gonna come lookin' for where
those new guns came from. I ain't sayin' we oughta turn our backs
on the mermen—they seem peaceful. But we're plain foolish if we
get mixed up in any war of theirs. I said it before and I'm gonna
keep on sayin' it!"
"All right, Tim. And you're speaking the truth. But this is good
land, ain't it?"
"Sure, it's good land! We're gonna have a mighty fine farm here.
But farmin' and fightin' don't mix. What about that fella what
lived fight over there? He didn't live out the last war, did
he?"
"Suppose they want this good land back? How long can we defend
it?"
For the first time a shadow of doubt appeared in Tim Harmon's
eyes.
"Okay!" he flung up a hand in surrender. "I'll go with you
halfway. I say be friends with the mermen and help 'em—some. But
I'm not gonna vote for no gangin' up with 'em in a private
war!"
"That's all we want you to do, Tim. We'll ally with the mermen
and make plans for defense," Kordov soothed him.
Dard smiled wryly. Inside he was amused, amused and tired. They
had come across the galaxy to escape to freedom, only to live again
under the shadow of fear. It was a long way to travel to
come—home!
A new frontier to guard. What was that thing Kimber had once
quoted while standing on a mountainside in the Terran winter?
"Frontiers of any type, physical or mental, are but a challenge
to our breed. Nothing can stop the questing of men, not even Man.
If we will it, not only the wonders of space, but the very stars
are ours!"
They had known the wonders of space, the stars were theirs—if
they could hold them! But who—or what—dared to say that they
could not? Why, Dard savored the new pride growing hotly within
him, they had broken the bonds of space—
There was a wide world before them, unlimited in its
possibilities. On distant Terra this ill-assorted group had drawn
into tight alliance because they believed alike—in what?
Freedom—Man's freedom! They had faced the sterility of Pax
clear-eyed and refused to be bound by it— entrusting their lives
to the knowledge Pax had outlawed—and it had brought them here.
They—if they willed it—worked for a united goal—they could do
anything!
Dard's eyes were on the painted cliffs but inwardly he saw
beyond—across the wide and waiting land. Alliance with the
merpeople—taming of the land—building a new civilization—his
breath came faster. Why a lifetime was not going to be time enough
to do everything that even he could see had to be done.
Could their breed be defeated? He gave his answer to the
uncertain future with a single word:
"NO!"
"WHEN'S BLAST-OFF?" Cully was boring holes in the sand with one
finger, restless away from his machines.
Dard glanced along the line of the six men who had accompanied
him down to the shore. They sat cross-legged in the sand with
strict orders to keep quiet and wait. The first meeting between the
Terrans and the representatives of the merpeople had been scheduled
for this afternoon—if he had been able to get the idea across in
gestures alone.
Spread out on the shore several feet above the water level were
those gifts the Terrans believed might please sea dwellers. Some
nested plastic bowls made a bright-colored spot, a collection of
empty bottles of various sizes, hastily assembled from laboratory
supplies, golden apples, native grain, all there together. Objects
which could be used under water had been hard to find.
"They're coming!" Dessie had been waiting impatiently by the
waves' sweep, and now, heedless of the water curling about her
legs, she ran forward, holding out her hands to the merchild who
threshed up a fountain of spray in its eagerness to meet her. Hand
in hand they pattered to dry land where the merchild shrank shyly
against the little girl when it saw the men.
But Dessie was smiling, and said importantly, "Ssssat and
Ssssutu are coming now."
Dard hid his surprise. How could Dessie so confidently mouth
those queer names—how did she know? From all his questioning and
Kimber's and Kordov's and Carlee's last night, they had only been
able to elicit that the "sea people thought into her head." They
had been forced to accept the concept of telepathy—which could be
possible with an undersea race.
So, deciding that Dessie's interpretation might be needed that
day, they had schooled her in her part.
Ssssat and Ssssutu—if those were the proper designations of the
mermen who were borne in with the next wave—came ashore. They both
carried the barbed spears and wore long bone daggers at the belts
which were their only articles of clothing. Without a sound they
seated themselves on the seaside of the gifts, facing Dard,
regarding him and the other Terrans with owlish solemnity.
"Dessie!" Dard called, and she came trotting to him.
"Do I give the presents now, Dard?"
"Yes. Try to make them understand that we want to be
friends."
She picked out two of the bowls, put an apple and a handful of
grain into each, and carried them over to set down before the
envoys.
The one on Dard's right held out his hand and Dessie, without
hesitation, laid hers, palm down, upon it. For a long moment they
made contact. Then both mermen relaxed their tense watchfulness.
They put their spears behind them and one ran his hands through the
fur on his head and shoulders where it was fast drying into rainbow
dotted fluff.
"They want to be friends, too," Dessie reported. "Dardie, if you
put your hand on theirs, then they can talk to you. They don't talk
with their mouths at all. This is Ssssat—"
Dard got to his feet slowly so as not to alarm the mermen and
crossed the strip of shore until he could sit face to face. Then he
held out his hand. Cool and damp the scaled digits and palm of the
other lay upon his warmer flesh. And, Dard almost broke the contact
in his surprise and awe, for the other was talking to him! Words,
ideas, swept into his mind—some concepts so alien he could not
understand. But bit by bit he pieced together much of what the
other was striving to tell him.
"Big ones, land dwellers, we have watched you—with fear. Fear
that you have come to lead us once more into the pens of
darkness—"
"Pens of darkness?" Dard echoed aloud and then shaped a mental
query.
"Those who once walked the land here—they kept the pens of
darkness where our fathers' fathers' fathers' "—the concept of
a long stretch of past time trailed through the Terran's receptive
mind—"were hatched. The days of fire came and we broke forth and
now we shall never return." There was stern warning, an implied
threat, in that.
"We know nothing of the pens, nor do we threaten you," Dard
thought slowly. "We, too, have broken out of pens of darkness," he
added with sudden inspiration.
"It is true that you are not the color or shape of those who
made the pens. And you have shown only friendship. Also you killed
the flying death which would have slain my cub. I believe that you
are good. Will you stay here?""
Dard pointed inland. "We build there."
"Do you wish the fruits of the river?" came next.
"The fruits of the river?" Dard was puzzled until a clear picture
of one of the red spider plants formed in his mind. Then he shook
his head to reinforce his unspoken denial.
"We may then come and harvest as we have always done? And,"
there was a shrewd bargaining note in this, "perhaps you will see
that the flying death does not attack us, since your slaying powers
are greater than ours?"
"We like the dragons no better than you do. Let me speak with
the others now—" Dard broke contact and reported to the Terran
committee.
"Sure!" Santee's jovial boom could not be kept to a whisper and
at the sound, or its vibration, both mermen started. "Let 'em come
in and get their spiders. I'll watch for dragons."
"Fair enough," Kimber agreed. "We don't care for the dragons any
more than they do."
Before the hour had passed cordial relations had been
established, and the mermen promised to return early the next
morning with their harvest crew. Carrying the gifts they waded out
into the sea, Ssssat's cub riding on his father's shoulder. The
little one waved back at Dessie until all three disappeared under
water.
"Those pens they spoke of," Kordov mused later that night when
they discussed the meeting in an open convocation of all the
voyagers. "They must have been imprisoned at one time by the city
builders and escaped during or after the war. But surely they
weren't domestic animals."
"More likely slaves," suggested Carlee Skort. "Perhaps they were
forced to do undersea work where landsmen could not venture. They
are coming tomorrow? Well, why can't we all go down and meet them?
Maybe we can help in the harvesting and prove our good will."
The clamor which interrupted and supported her was indicative of
the enthusiasm of the rest. Dessie's merpeople had caught the
imaginations of all. And Dard believed that the Terrans would have
gone to meet them in any case.
Early as the colonists came down to the river bank the next
morning, the merpeople were there before them, wading along the
shallows of the slowly flowing stream, sweeping between them woven
basket nets, as fine as sieves, to skim up the red fungi.
Merchildren paddled in and out, and a line of spear-bearing males
patrolled the shoreline with attention for the cliff perches of the
dragons.
They stopped all these activities as the Terrans came into
sight, and when they began again it was with a certain self-consciousness. Dard and the others who had been on the seashore the
day before went up to meet the sea people, their hands
outstretched.
A party of the armed males split off to face them. In the center
of their group was one portly individual who, though there was no
way save by size for the humans to guess at merman ages, gave the
impression of dignity and authority.
Dard touched palms with the leading warrior.
"This is Aaaatak, our "Friend of Many." He would communicate
with your "Giver of Law.'"
"Giver of Law." Kordov came the nearest to being the leader of
the colonists. Dard beckoned to the First Scientist.
"This is their chieftain, sir. He wants to speak to our
leader."
"So? I can not call myself leader," Kordov met the hands of the
older merman, "but I am honored to speak to him." As Kordov and the
merchief clasped hands the rest of the colonists came up, timidly.
But an hour later merpeople and humans mingled with freedom. And
when the Terran party set out food, the mermen brought in their own
supplies, flat baskets of fish and aquatic plants, kept in water
until time to eat. They accepted the golden apples eagerly, but
kept away from the fires where their hosts cooked the fish they
offered in return. Although each fire had a ring of amazed
spectators, standing at a safe distance to gaze at the wonder.
Three dragons that dared to invade were brought down with rays,
to the savage exultation of the merpeople. They asked to inspect
the weapons and returned them regretfully when they understood that
such arms would not last in their water world.
"Though," Cully said thoughtfully, when this had been explained,
"I don't see why they couldn't use some of the metal forged by
Those Others. It seems to resist rust and erosion on land—it might
in the water."
"Nordis!"
The urgency in that call brought Dard away from the engineer to
the small group of Kimber, Kordov, the mer-chief and several
others. Harmon was there, as well as Santee, and some
techneers.
"Yes, sir?"
"You've seen the lizards, ask Aaaatak if those are what he is
trying to tall us about. We can't get the right impression of what
he means and it seems to be vitally important." Kordov edged back
for the boy to take his place. Dard clasped the readily extended
claws of the merchief.
"Do you wish to tell us about—" He shut his eyes in order to
concentrate better upon a mental image of the huge reptiles.
"No!" The answer was a decided negative. "Those we have seen,
yes—hunting down other land dwellers. They were once subordinate to
those we speak of now. These—"
Another picture indeed—a biped—humanoid in outline—but somehow
all wrong. Dard had seen nothing like it. And the image was fuzzy,
indistinct as if he observed it from a distance—or through
water!
Through water! That was caught up eagerly by Aaaatak.
"Now you are thinking straight. We do not come out of hiding
when those are about! So we see them in that fashion—"
"They live on land then? Near here?" Dard demanded. The emotion
of fear colored so strongly all the impressions he received from
the merchief.
"They live on land, yes. Near here, no, or we should not be
here. We hunt out shores where they do not come. Once they were
very, very many, living everywhere—here—across the sea. They were
the builders of those pens where creatures of my kind were
imprisoned for them to work their will upon. Then something
happened. There came fire raining from the sky, and a sickness
which struck them. They died, some quickly, some much more slowly,
when my people burst from the pens." There was a cold and deadly
satisfaction in that flash of memory. "After that we fled into the
wilds of the sea where they could not find us. Even when I was but
a new-hatched cub we lived in the depths. But through the years our
young warriors went out to search for food and for a safer place to
live—there are monsters in the deeps as horrible as the lizards of
the land. And these parties discovered that those"—again Dard saw
the queer biped—"were gone from long stretches among the reefs, as
we had always longed to do.
"There are none of those left in this land now but—" The chief
hesitated before suddenly withdrawing his hand from Dard's and
turning to his followers as if consulting them. Dad took the
opportunity to translate to the others what he had learned.
"Survivors of Those Others," Kimber caught him up. "But not
here?"
"No. Aaaatak says that his people will not come where they are.
Wait—he has more to tell."
For Aaaatak was holding out his hand and Dard met it
readily.
"My people now believe that you are not like those. You do not
seem in body quite the same, your skin is of a different color," he
drew his claw finger across the back of Dard's hand to emphasize
his meaning, "and you have received us as one free people greets
another. This those others do not—there is much hate and bitterness
between us from the far past—and they always delight in
killing.
"We have watched you ever since you first came out of the sky.
Those others once traveled in the sky—though of late we have not
seen their bird ships—and so we thought you of the same breed. Now
we know that that is untrue. But we must tell you—be on your
guard! For on the other side of the sea those others still live,
even if their numbers are few, and there is a blackness in their
minds which leads them to raise spears against all living
things!
"Now," Dard had a strong impression that the merchief was coming
to the main point, "we are a people who know much about the sea,
but little of the land. We have learned that you are not native to
this world, having fallen from the sky—but, did you not also say
that you came from a place where you, too, were penned by
enemies?"
Dard assented, remembering his statement to the first
envoys.
"If you are wise you will not seek out those who would lay such
bonds upon you again. For that is what those others will do. In
this world they recognize no other rights or desires than are born
of their own wills. We have warriors of our race who keep watch
upon them secretly and bring news of their coming and going.
Against their might—though they have lost much of their ancient
knowledge—we have only our own cunning and knowledge of the sea.
And what good is a spear against that which may kill at a distance?
But you have mightier weapons. And should we two peoples join
skills and hearts against them—But do you now say this to your
Giver of Laws and other Elder Ones so that they may understand." He
withdrew his hand again and left Dard in interpret.
"An alliance!" Tas Kordov caught the meaning of that offer.
Hmm," he plucked his lower lip. "Better tell him— No, let me. I'll
explain that we shall talk it over."
"What's all this 'bout Those Others?" Harmon demanded. "Did they," he indicated the merpeople, "say that they're still
here—the ones who lived in that city?"
"Not here—across the sea," Dard was beginning when Rogan broke
in.
"That chieftain doesn't think much of them, does he?"
"He says they're enemies."
"They aren't his kind," Harmon pointed out. "And his people were
their slaves once."
"We," Kimber said slowly, "have had some experience with slavery
ourselves, haven't we? On Terra we'd have been in labor camps, if
we hadn't been lucky—that is if we weren't shot down in cold blood.
I have a pretty good memory of the last few years there."
Harmon sifted a palmful of sand from one hand to another.
"Yeah, I know. Only we don't want to get into no local war."
That echoed after his voice died away. No entangling alliances
to drag them into any war! Dard sensed the electric agreement which
ran through them at that thought. Only Kimber, Santee, and maybe
Kordov, did not wholly agree with Harmon.
Dard gazed down to the river bank. The merpeople had almost
completed the harvest and were gathering up their possessions and
slipping in family groups back to the sea. He wondered what Kordov
would tell the chief.
Suddenly he could not stand the uncertainty any longer. He
wanted to get away—to escape from the thought that perhaps it was
going to start all over again—the insecurity— the constant guard
duty against a hostile force.
According to the merchief Those Others were now across the
sea—but would they remain there? Wouldn't this fertile, deserted
land where they had once ruled draw them back again? And they would
not accept new settlers kindly.
If the Terrans only knew more about them! Those Others had
blasted their world. Dard remembered the callous cruelty of that
barn in the valley. Raids, looting, the blasted city, the
robot-controlled guns to shoot anything passing out of the air, the
warnings of the merpeople.
He plodded across the sand to the inner valley, beading for the
cliff house. Rogan had set up the projector the night before, and
they had put the first of the discovered tapes in it. If something
about the rulers of this world could be learned from those—this was
the time to do it!
"Where're you bound for, kid?" Kimber fell into step.
"The cliffs." Dard was being pushed by the feeling that time was
not his to waste, that he must know—now!
The pilot asked no more questions but followed Dard into the
rock cell where Rogan had installed his machine. The boy checked
the preparation made the night before. He turned off the light—the
screen on the wall was a glowing square of blue-white and then the
projector began to hum.
"This one of those rolls from the carrier?"
But Dard did not answer. For now the screen was in use. He began
to watch . . .
"Turn it off! Turn that off!"
His frenzied fingers found the proper button. They were
surrounded by honest light, clean red-yellow walls.
Kimber's face was in his hands, the harshness of his breathing
filled the room. Dard, shaken, sick, dared not move. He gripped the
edge of the shelf which supported the projector, gripped so tightly
that the flesh under his nails turned dead white. He tried to
concentrate upon that phenomenon—not on what he had just seen.
"What—what did you see?" he moistened his lips and asked dully.
He had to know. Maybe it was only his own reaction. But—but it
couldn't be! The very thought that only he had seen that led to
panic—to a terror beyond bearing.
"I don't know . . . " Kimber's answer dragged out of him word by
painful word. "It wasn't meant—ever meant for man—our kind of
man—to see—"
Dard raised his head, made himself stare at that innocuous
screen, to assure himself that there was nothing there now.
"It did something to me—inside," he half whispered.
"It was meant to, I think. But—Great Lord—what sort of
minds—feelings—did they have! Not human—totally alien. We have
no common meeting point—we never shall have—with that!"
"And it was all just color, twisting, turning color," Dard
began.
Kimber's hand closed about his wrist with crushing intensity.
"I was right," Dard did not feel the pain of that grip, "they
used color as a means of communication. But—but—"
"What they had to say with it! Yes, not for us—never for us.
Keep your mind off it, Dard. Five minutes more of that and you
might not have been human—ever again!"
"We couldn't establish contact with them—with—"
"Minds that could conceive that? No, we can't. So that was what
brought you here—you wanted to see if Harmon was right in his
neutral policy? Now you know—with that we have no common ground.
And we'll have to make the others understand. If we do meet Those
Others—the result will undoubtedly be war."
"Fifty-three of us—maybe a whole nation of them left." Dard was
still sick and shaken—sensing a deep inner violation.
First there had been the tyranny of Pax, which had been man-made
and so understandable, in all its narrow cruelty, because it had
been the work of human beings. And now this—which man dared
not—touch!
Kimber had regained control of himself. There was even a trace
of the familiar impish grin on his face as he said:
"When the fighting is the toughest, that's when our breed digs
in toes. And we needn't borrow trouble. Get Kordov and Harmon in
here. If we are going to discuss the offer of the mermen we want
them to know what to expect from overseas."
But—to Dard's dismay—the projection of Those Others' tapes
aroused in Harmon no more than a vague uneasiness —though it shook
Kordov. And, as they insisted on the rest of the men viewing it,
they discovered that it varied in its effects upon different
individuals. Rogan, sensitive to communication devices, almost
fainted after a few moments' strict attention. Santee admitted that
he did not like it but couldn't say why. But, in the end, the
weight of evidence was that they could not hope to deal with Those
Others.
"I'm still sayin'," Harmon insisted, "that we shouldn't get
pulled into anything them sea people has started. You say them
pictures make Those Others regular devils. Well, they're still
across the sea. We shouldn't go lookin' for trouble—then maybe we
don't find none!"
"We're not suggesting an expeditionary force, Tim," Kimber
answered mildly. "But if they are alive overseas they may just get
the idea to reclaim this land—and you'd want to know about it
ahead of time if they did. The mermen will keep us informed. Then
we could supply them with better arms."
"Yeah, and right there you've got trouble! You make sea-goin'
ray guns and the first thing you know they're gonna use 'em. They
hate Those Others don't they? Back on earth we picked off a
Peaceman whenever we got the chance, didn't we? And let that happen
a coupla times and Those Others are gonna come lookin' for where
those new guns came from. I ain't sayin' we oughta turn our backs
on the mermen—they seem peaceful. But we're plain foolish if we
get mixed up in any war of theirs. I said it before and I'm gonna
keep on sayin' it!"
"All right, Tim. And you're speaking the truth. But this is good
land, ain't it?"
"Sure, it's good land! We're gonna have a mighty fine farm here.
But farmin' and fightin' don't mix. What about that fella what
lived fight over there? He didn't live out the last war, did
he?"
"Suppose they want this good land back? How long can we defend
it?"
For the first time a shadow of doubt appeared in Tim Harmon's
eyes.
"Okay!" he flung up a hand in surrender. "I'll go with you
halfway. I say be friends with the mermen and help 'em—some. But
I'm not gonna vote for no gangin' up with 'em in a private
war!"
"That's all we want you to do, Tim. We'll ally with the mermen
and make plans for defense," Kordov soothed him.
Dard smiled wryly. Inside he was amused, amused and tired. They
had come across the galaxy to escape to freedom, only to live again
under the shadow of fear. It was a long way to travel to
come—home!
A new frontier to guard. What was that thing Kimber had once
quoted while standing on a mountainside in the Terran winter?
"Frontiers of any type, physical or mental, are but a challenge
to our breed. Nothing can stop the questing of men, not even Man.
If we will it, not only the wonders of space, but the very stars
are ours!"
They had known the wonders of space, the stars were theirs—if
they could hold them! But who—or what—dared to say that they
could not? Why, Dard savored the new pride growing hotly within
him, they had broken the bonds of space—
There was a wide world before them, unlimited in its
possibilities. On distant Terra this ill-assorted group had drawn
into tight alliance because they believed alike—in what?
Freedom—Man's freedom! They had faced the sterility of Pax
clear-eyed and refused to be bound by it— entrusting their lives
to the knowledge Pax had outlawed—and it had brought them here.
They—if they willed it—worked for a united goal—they could do
anything!
Dard's eyes were on the painted cliffs but inwardly he saw
beyond—across the wide and waiting land. Alliance with the
merpeople—taming of the land—building a new civilization—his
breath came faster. Why a lifetime was not going to be time enough
to do everything that even he could see had to be done.
Could their breed be defeated? He gave his answer to the
uncertain future with a single word:
"NO!"