Assignment Moon Girl (19 page)

“A question of Pavlov’s dog?”

“Something like that.”

“But you’re too valuable to be put in danger like this,”
Durell said. “Why do they treat you this way?”

“I think it is to teach me to cooperate.”

“Is Har-Buri so desperate for you to talk?”

“He wants me to cooperate,” she said again.

“At the risk of your life, here with this beast?”

“I have survived," she said simply. “I think the danger
would always be averted at the last moment.”

He pointed to the top of the pit. “What’s up there?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been up there.”

“How did they get you back?”

“Ah, you are so curious. You must be very strong, in body
and mind.” She studied his physique clinically. And then she gave him her
close-mouthed smile again. There was nothing friendly in it. “I did the best I
could. I know you followed me, when I hid in the Farsi’s truck. It had guns in
it. Then I got out at an oasis village and stole a nomad woman’s clothes and
was taken by a Kurdish caravan to the north. I knew you and the others were
chasing me. I thought I was safe, for a time. But yesterday, they sold me. As a
slave. In a socialist society, such primitive savagery would be unthinkable.
They sold me back to Har-Buri—and here I am. It was all quite a useless effort,
as you see. But my father will come for me. I am sure the Soviet embassy will
find me and rescue me.”

“You don’t want to go to Peking?”

She shook her head. “No. They are our enemies.”

Including your mother, Madame Hung?”

She gave a small shudder, despite the heat. “I would rather
die than return to her.”

“You seem different," he said, after a moment.

“How do you mean?”

“Quite calm and rational.”

“Was I not that way before?”

“You seemed to be out of your mind, actually.”

“Because I insisted I had been on the moon?”

“Yes.”

“But now you, too, know the truth.”

"
MynameisSamDurellandlhavebeenonthemoon
,”
he said.

Tanya smiled. “Ah, that’s very good.”

She did not speak to him anymore. The heat drained their
energy until it took all their strength simply to breathe and exist. He lay
with his back to the curved wall of the pit and regarded the slice of dazzling
sunlight that cut arcs of black shadow on the circular floor of the pit.
He could remember nothing of what had happened after his struggle with
Ouspanaya in the moon dome. He was pleased with this, because it
confirmed what he thought of it. But it left a curious vacuum within him,
as if something had been stolen from his essence and he was not complete
anymore. He mourned this more than anything else. When he tried to think
rationally of the space flight, the moon dome, and all of it, he felt a
peculiar lethargy, a desire to accept it without question. He made several
efforts to restore to his memory the images that must be there, striving for
detail, item by item, of equipment and technique. He wished Tanya would compare
notes with him, but she had removed herself from him, even though she sat close
by him in the shade at the bottom of the pit. In every gesture and posture, she
let him know she still regarded him as an enemy.

He thought of Lotus, the little Chinese handmaiden to Madame
Hung. Quite a difference, there. Had she managed to find Hannigan? That
diplomatic party at Ramsur Sepah’s villa was a long way in the past. He tried
to estimate how much time had actually gone by since then. At least a week, he
decided. More likely two. Hannigan should have found him by now. But then he
had a thought that turned him cold. How could Hannigan have found him, if he’d
been on the moon?

Toward evening, when he thought he could endure his thirst
no more, the tiger came out of the cave and paced restlessly in a circle around
the walls of the pit. Tanya, who had been asleep, also awoke and began to move
about. They were conditioned to a fine point, Durell thought. At this
moment, watching the handsome girl and the satiny tiger, he felt there was
little difference in their behavior.

“Tanya,” he said.

She looked at him reluctantly. “Yes?”

“Who brought me here?”

“Mahmoud, of course.”

“How did he manage it?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Did he carry me through the cave? Or did he lower me from
the top of the pit?”

She hesitated. “Through the cave.”

“That’s good,” he said.

“But the animal will not let you in there.”

Durell regarded the pacing tiger. “Thank you.”

“It is almost time to eat,” Tanya said.

“So I notice. Is Mahmoud late?”

“No. I—the tiger and I—we’re only impatient.”

When the shadow of the setting sun was halfway up the curved
wall, a head appeared over the top edge. The tiger growled. The girl stopped
and sat down dutifully to one side. Durell did not move. The head up there did
not move, either. All he could see was the circle of darkening sky and the
round, rag-swaddled head peering down at him.

Then there came a giggling laugh.

“Hey,
Amerikani
.”

“Hello, Mahmoud.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A bit.”

“You want some water, too?"

“That would be very hospitable.”

“Ho
ho
. Very funny
Amerikani
. So polite.”

“Feed us or fake out,” Durell said.

“Ah, you are of strong morale, eh?”

“And tell Ramsur Sepah I want to see him.”

“Hey?”

“Har-Buri, then.”

“In good time, in good time.”

"I will tell him all he wants to know.”

“He knows all, he is next to Allah, he is godly and
beneficent. But you would not understand.”

“Just tell him.”

"Ho
ho
.”

Durell watched to see how Mahmoud would lower the food and
water. The tiger growled, pacing faster now. It was no time to annoy him. He
judged The depth of the pit, or cistern, to be at least forty feet. Now that
the blazing sunlight was gone, he could see that it had been cunningly made by
ancient artisans, built of curved and fitted blocks of sandstone worn
smooth by time. There came the clatter of a chain, and then a bucket came down,
lowered hand over hand by Mahmoud. The tiger stopped in the middle of the pit
and looked up, eyes blazing. The chain was solid and substantial. Durell did
not expect that he could jump for it, as Tanya had taken the rope on their
first escape. But it seemed as if Mahmoud had not learned his lesson. The
bucket came lower, swinging erratically. Now and then it struck the sides of
the cistern and the soft stone crumbled a bit, letting down a small shower of
sand and dust to the bottom. Durell tried to Show no interest. He had only his
hands, and no hope of a tool. . . .

Suddenly he saw all the tools he needed as Tanya stood up.
He began to relax, then.

At a height of ten feet above the pit floor, Mahmoud
suddenly yanked his chain and the bucket tipped and spilled the food without
ceremony to the sand. The tiger moved to it, rumbling, and began to eat the
lumps of meat there. The bucket rose swiftly. There came a long pause. Tanya
stood, dazzling in her ropes of pearls, jewels, and bangles. Presently
Mahmoud’s hands appeared again, and two small goatskin bags came hurtling down.
They landed with a thud near the tiger, who seemed used to the process, and did
not pause in his feeding.

“That is for us,” Tanya said. “Water in one bag.

Meat and meal in the other.”

“After you,” Durell said.

The tiger went off, dragging his gray meat with him, looking
back at Durell for a challenging moment before he disappeared into the cave.
Durell watched the girl open the leather bags and arrange two bowls in them and
pour a kind of gruel equally into each. The smaller bag contained water,
brackish and warm. He drank sparingly, washing out his mouth, and swallowed in
small amounts.

“How long have I been here, Tanya?” he asked.

She did not look at him. “I don’t know. I was asleep. When I
awoke, you were here.”

“This morning?”

“I think it was yesterday.”

“Was I feverish, or babbling?”

She shook her head. Her thick hair swung and caught on the
necklaces she wore, and she untangled it impatiently, concentrating too much
attention on this detail, he thought. “You said what you said. You, too, have
been on the moon.”

“Did you see your father, Tanya?”

“No.”

“But he is here, you know.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“He’s a prisoner, too. We were together for a long time.” He
scrubbed knuckles across his beard and tried to estimate how long it had been
since he had shaved. Maybe two weeks. “Don’t you want to help your father?
Don’t you want to get out of here?”

“It is hopeless.”

“It’s never hopeless.”

“Ah, you optimistic Americans.”

“What does the tiger do after he eats?”

“He sleeps, just as we shall sleep.”

“In the cave?”

“Yes, he stays in the cave.”

“Good,” Durell said. “Let me have one of those bracelets on
your arm.”

She drew back quickly, like a miserly child. “No, I like
them. They amuse me.”

“They’re the only excuse for tools that we have, Tanya.
You’ve had scientific training. You know how to tackle problems
logically. Now use the sense you were born with, and help me.”

She clutched her necklaces with tight hands under her chin.
“How can we escape?”

“This pit we’re in was once a cistern, in ancient times. The
nomads of the desert often use them to live in, and some are interconnected
underground. There may be another opening, back in the caves, that could prove
a way out.”

“That’s only a guess,” she said.

“It’s all I’ve got.”

“Why do you want my jewels?”

“To help dig and scratch. These walls are soft stone. We
might scrape away enough to dislodge one or two of the blocks. It can’t be done
with our fingernails.”

Her chin carne up. “You need not sound so patient with me. I
am not a fool. I can be as rational as you.”

“Then try. Can you befriend the tiger?”

“No, I—I stay away from him.”

“Well, I’ll make him my buddy.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“We’re dead if we stay here, anyway,” Durell said.

The animal sprawled across the cave entrance, blocking the
way into the interior. He had finished his raw meat, and lay with his
great head on one paw, watching Durell. Durell began to walk around the pit
casually, studying the walls. He took a bowl and filled it with water and
moved toward the cat. Instantly, the beast lifted its head and growled. Durell
spoke soothingly to it, put down the water, and retreated. The cat watched him
with glowing eyes, then got up and drank noisily.

“Now give me your necklaces,” he said. Tanya unhooked them,
and he added, “Try to fasten them to make the longest length you can. Choose
the strongest. Add your bracelets, anything at all.”

“I’ve never had jewelry before,” she said oddly.

“They belong to Ali Baba, not you,” he told her.

The sun went down while he worked closer to the cat. Finally
he was able to sit not more than four feet away from it. Before the darkness of
night filled the pit, he could see beyond the beast into the tunnel. The
gateway by which he had entered and escaped last time would be securely guarded
now. But he remembered the small side caves and tunnels, only glimpsed in his
previous flight. His optimism was not as high as he pretended to Tanya.
But it was all he had.

Dusk filled the pit like a rising tide in a pool.
Tanya said, “Here is the rope I made,” and handed him a three-foot length of
jeweled chain. He tested it, and doubted if the linked bracelets and necklaces
would hold his weight. The gold was soft, the wires thin. But they might serve
the purpose. He spoke to the cat quietly. Its tail twitched and thumped heavily
on the hard sand. He took more water from the goatskin bag and filled the
bowl again, and this time placed the bowl on the opposite side of the pit. The
tiger did not stir. It didn’t seem thirsty anymore. Durell felt the growing
chill of approaching night, aware of his nakedness and of a hundred aches and
bruises in his body.

“He will not let us go by,” Tanya said.

“You give up too easily.”

“I have been through too much, and I am tired.”

“I’ve been to the same places as you,” he said, and grinned.
“But you don’t want to’ discuss that, do you? Do you know what really happened
to you, Tanya?”

“l think so.”

“But you don’t trust me to talk about it?”

“You are an American spy. I cannot trust you.”

He had never met a more adamant, suspicious woman, he
thought. He started to turn from her, and suddenly the tiger got up from the
cave entrance and crossed the pit and drank again from the bowl he had put on
the other side.

“Move quietly, but quickly,” Durell said.

He took Tanya’s hand and crossed the place where the tiger
had sprawled, and entered the cave. Tanya shivered. He pulled her after him.
The smell of the cat’s lair was overpowering. The tiger growled and immediately
bounded after them.

“Stop,” Durell said to Tanya.

The gloom and the fetid smell cloaked them. Durell felt
defenseless in his nakedness. He did not move except to make the jewelry chain
swing back and forth from his fingers. The cat’s eyes followed the
movement, and he paused. They had stepped over his usual resting place, and now
the tiger stood between them and the pit. A rumbling came from his throat.
Tanya drew a shuddering breath.

“He will spring at us.”

“No.”

“He has been trained as a kind of watchdog—?”

“But he’s gotten accustomed to us. He’s used to being close
to us.” The cat suddenly sank down on its belly, head on the sand, watching
them. Durell relaxed a bit. “It’s all right now.”