Cat Country (26 page)

I concluded that a civil war had started and that Old Scorpion’s troops were losing. He had, no doubt, invited all these people over in order to seek their help; but apparently they weren’t willing to come to his aid. If my guess was right, then their refusal to help Old Scorpion might prove a good thing for Cat Country.

Old Scorpion seemed genuinely worried. As I was leaving, I asked, ‘How were your soldiers defeated?’

‘The foreigners have invaded!’

HAWK

A
LTHOUGH THE
sun had not yet completely set, there was not so much as a ghost to be seen on the street. Slogans, however, had already appeared on the walls in huge white characters: ABSOLUTE RESISTANCE; TO SAVE COUNTRY IS TO SAVE ONESELF; DOWN WITH AGGRESSION-ISM . . . My brain was a murky ox rolling in the mud. Although I was the only one on the street, I felt as though there wasn’t enough air to go round in this living city of death. Old Scorpion’s ‘The foreigners have invaded!’ still sounded in my ears like a mournful tocsin. But why had they invaded? It was obvious that Old Scorpion was scared out of his wits or he would have explained the situation to me in greater detail. But scared as he was, he had not forgotten his social obligations and had not neglected to provide his guests with prostitutes – that was past all comprehension! And that bunch of politicians! The enemy was invading and they still had the heart to call in whores and take their pleasure without so much as mentioning a word about the affairs of state! More than ever, I felt that I would never understand how the minds of the Cat People worked.

The only thing left to do was go and look for Young Scorpion. Although I didn’t approve of his overly-pessimistic attitude, I had to admit that he was the only clear-headed person around. Besides, after seeing the politicians, how could I blame him for his pessimism any more?

The sun was below the horizon. A beautiful layer of clouds tinged half the sky red with the reflected rays of the dying sun. And below the clouds, a tenuous mist reflected the cruel melancholy of the land, setting off in even brighter hues the glory of the sky. A gentle breeze blew against my chest and back. Not so much as a dog’s bark was to be heard. Even in primitive times, I thought, things must have been somewhat livelier than this. And this was a great city! My tears fell like strung beads.

I arrived at Young Scorpion’s place and went to my room. There was someone sitting in the shadows and although I couldn’t see clearly enough to tell who it was, I could make out that it wasn’t Young Scorpion, for this man was taller.

‘Who is it?’ He asked in a loud voice. I could tell from his tone that he was no ordinary representative of the Cat People, for none of them would have dared to ask a question so boldly and aggressively.

‘I’m the man who came from Earth,’ I answered.

‘Have a seat, Mr Earth!’ There was a slightly imperious tone to his voice, but it was so open and frank that one didn’t mind.

‘Who are you?’ My tone of voice was a bit gruff too as I sat down beside him. Now that I was closer, I saw that he was not only tall, but very broad as well. The hairs on his face were so long that they seemed to cover the openings to his ears, mouth and nose. The only thing exposed in the heavy tangle of hair that covered his face was a pair of very bright eyes which reminded one of two bright little eggs in a bird’s nest.

‘I’m Hawk,’ he said. ‘People call me “Hawk”, but that’s not my real name.’

‘Why “Hawk”?’

‘Because they’re afraid of me. In our country, good men are seen as fright’nin’ and hateful – that’s why they call me Hawk.’

I looked up at the darkening sky and saw that now there was only a single puff of cloud left; it was tinged with red and hung like a lonely flower over Hawk’s head. I went blank for a moment and couldn’t think of anything to ask him. My mind was still preoccupied with the glorious image of a Martian sunset.

‘I don’t dare go out in the day and so I waited until the ev’nin’ to come lookin’ for Young Scorpion,’ he volunteered.

‘Why not in the daytime?’ It seemed that only the first half of his statement had got through to me and thus I emphasised that part of it.

‘There’s nobody, ’cept Young Scorpion who’s not my enemy. Why should I go out in the daytime and make things tough on myself? I don’t live in the city. I live in the mountains. I walked all night yesterday and hid all day today. Just got into the city a little while ago. Have you got anything to eat? I haven’t had a bite all day.’

‘I’ve only got reverie leaves.’

‘No thanks. Wouldn’t touch ’em if I were starvin’! A man can’t move out after eatin’ reverie leaves.’

This was the first cat-man I’d met who had any guts. I called Revery in hopes that she could cook up something. I was sure she was there, but apparently she didn’t want to come to us.

‘Forget it. The women are all afraid of me too. What’s so bad about goin’ hungry for a few days more or less anyhow? Seein’ as I’m about to turn in my chips anyway, why should I be afraid of goin’ hungry?’

‘The foreigners have invaded, haven’t they?’ I managed to ask.

‘Right. That’s why I’m here lookin’ for Young Scorpion.’

‘But how can he help? He’s too pessimistic, too much the romantic.’ I really shouldn’t have criticised my friend like that, but at times candour can be a virtue.

‘He’s that way because he’s smart. As for bein’ – what was the second thing you said he was
too
of? I didn’t catch what you meant. But no matter what it was, if I had to find a guy who would die with me, he’s the only one who would be up to it. Pessimists are afraid of livin’, but they aren’t afraid of dyin’. Most of our people go on livin’ happy as you please; they’d still live happy as ever even if you starved ’em down till there was nothin’ left ’cept a sack of skin. You see, they’re born that way – they just don’t know enough to be pessimistic. Maybe I oughta say they’re born without brains. Young Scorpion’s the only one around who knows enough to take a dim view of things. That makes him the second good person in Cat City – that is, if you count me as the first.’

‘You’re a pessimist.’ Although I thought him a bit gruff and arrogant, I didn’t doubt his intelligence.

‘Me? Hell no! It’s exactly because I’m not a pessimist that everybody’s afraid of me and hates me. If I’d only picked up a bit of Young Scorpion’s pessimism, they wouldn’t have driven me into the mountains in the first place. The difference between me and Young Scorpion lies right there. He despises those witless people who have lost all sense of personal integrity, but he doesn’t dare offend ’em. I don’t hate ’em, but I do feel like knockin’ some sense into their heads and lettin’ ’em know that they still don’t look up to scratch as people. So, I
do
offend ’em. But if push comes to shove, Young Scorpion’s as ready to die as I am.’

‘Were you in politics before, too?’

‘Yup. Now take my own way of livin’. I’m against eatin’ reverie leaves, against whorin’ around, and against takin’ a lotta wives. So I try to talk people out of reverie leaves, whores, and concubines. This way I manage to offend the old guard, the new school, and everybody in general. There’s somethin’you oughta know, Mr Earth. Here with us, anyone who wants to suffer hardship or gain a little learnin’is thought to be a hypocrite. For instance, I walk on my own two feet and never have to call in seven bearers to carry me around. But when other leaders see me refusin’ to be carried around like a bale of leaves, when they see me walkin’ on my own two legs, what do you think their reaction is? Do you think that they take me as a model? Hell no! They say I’m puttin’ up a front, call me a hypocrite!

‘Whenever the politicians open their mouths it’s always “the economic” this or “the political” that. The students are forever jawin’ about this or that
-ism
. But try askin’ ’em what they mean, and they just stare at you blank as a wall. And if you get a notion to study it out for yourself, they’ll call you a hypocrite. And the common people? Give ’em a National Soul and they’ll smile at you; tell ’em to cut down on reverie leaves and they’ll give you a dirty look and call you a hypocrite. From the emperor on down to the ordinary folk, they all take doin’ bad things as the right road of life, all take doin’ good things or standin’ up under hardship as playin’ the hypocrite. And that’s why everybody wanted to kill me – to get rid of a hypocrite. Politically, I think that any political programme, no matter what kind it is, oughta be grounded in economics; and any kind of political reform oughta be motivated by sincerity. But none of our politicians has any notion of economics and there isn’t a sincere one in the whole lot.

‘From beginnin’ to end, the politicians have always taken politics as a kinda game. You give me a push; I give you a shove. Before long everybody is talkin’ economics, and yet our agriculture and industry are already completely bankrupt. Under these kind of conditions, if anyone like me tries to set forth politics based on integrity and good sense – hypocrite! You see, if they didn’t accuse me of bein’ a hypocrite, they’d have to admit that
they
were wrong. Now when you admit you’re wrong, that’s a kind of constructive criticism in itself, but they don’t understand that. A few years back, you could blame our political decadence on a bad economic system; but now we don’t have any more economic problems that we can use for scapegoats.

‘It would seem to me that if we want to get back to the past glories of Cat Country, we oughta start with the problem of personal integrity. But it’s really too late. Once integrity is gone, there’s as little hope of gettin’ it back again as there is of bringin’ a man back from the dead. In the last few decades we’ve just had too many political changes, and with every change, the value of personal integrity has gone down just that much more. The evil always win and so now we’re settin’ up for the final victory, that’s to say we’re waitin’ to see who’s the evilest of all. If I start talkin’ about integrity here in Cat Country, the word no sooner leaves my lips than people spit right in my face. In foreign countries,
-isms
are all good, but once we get our hands on ’em, they all turn bad. It was through ignorance and lack of integrity that we transformed the crops that nature gave us into reverie leaves. But I’m still not pessimistic. My conscience is bigger than I am, bigger than the sun, bigger than all creation! I don’t commit suicide, nor am I afraid of standin’ against ’em. Wherever I can exert myself to improve things, I do. I know damn well that it does no good, but my conscience, as I’ve said, is much bigger than my life.’

Hawk stopped talking and I heard only his heavy breathing. Although I’m not a hero worshipper, I had to admire the man. Since he was vilified by tens of thousands of people, he wasn’t the kind of man one would normally pick as the object of hero worship. He was more like a sacrificial victim who cleanses away all the shame of his people; he was more like the founder of a religion.

Young Scorpion came back. I had never known him to return so late, and I was sure there was some special reason for his delay.

‘I’ve come.’ Hawk stood up and rushed to the side of his old friend.

‘You couldn’t have picked a better time.’ Young Scorpion embraced Hawk and the two wept. I knew that things must be in a critical state, although I was still ignorant of the details.

‘But,’ Young Scorpion’s tone showed that he seemed to know that Hawk was fully aware of what was going on, ‘your arrival won’t make a great deal of difference.’

‘I know. As a matter of fact, it’s more likely that I’ll get in your way, but I had to come. Our opportunity to die has finally arrived,’ Hawk said as the two men sat down.

‘And how will you die?’ asked Young Scorpion.

‘I yield the empty glory of death on the battlefield to you. I have in mind a somewhat inglorious, but not entirely useless, end. How many men do you have now?’

‘Not too many. Father’s troops retreated before the battle started, and the soldiers of the other leaders are preparing to fall back at this very moment. I’m afraid that Big Horsefly’s men are the only ones left who might be willing to take orders from me. But when they hear that you’re here, I don’t know what they’ll do.’

‘I know,’ said Hawk calmly. ‘Can you bring your father’s troops under your command?’

‘There’s not much hope of that.’

‘How about killin’ one or two of their officers as a show of strength.’

‘But my father didn’t turn over his military command to me, and they know it.’

‘Why don’t you spread a rumour to the effect that I have a big body of troops under me, but we all refuse to accept your orders, and . . .’

‘That might work. Even though you don’t have a single solitary soldier, if I spread a rumour, there will be some who will believe it. But then what do we do?’

‘Kill me and display my head in the street as a warnin’ to any troops who refuse to accept your orders. What do you think?’

‘The plan has its merits, but I’d first have to spread the rumour that my father has relinquished his command to me.’

‘Well then, you’d better get started. The enemy is almost here and we’ll need every soldier we can lay our hands on. It’s settled then. I’ll put an end to myself, old friend, in order to spare you the pain.’ Hawk clasped Young Scorpion in his arms, but neither of them shed any tears.

‘Wait a minute!’ My voice interrupted them. ‘Wait a minute! What possible good are the two of you going to accomplish by doing this?’

‘None at all,’ said Hawk with the utmost calm. ‘It won’t do a bit of good. The enemy outnumber us and are better equipped; even if we were able to concentrate the entire strength of our country against ’em, we still might not come out on top. But on the long shot that our example may have some influence, perhaps we can bring about a great turning point in the history of Catdom. The enemy expects that we won’t dare, or even be willin’, to put up any resistance. But the two of us, if we accomplish nothin’ else, will have at least taught our enemies not to despise us so. And if not a single person heeds our call to arms? Well, the answer to that is simple enough: Cat Country will have deserved its death, and the two of us will have deserved to die too. There’s no consideration of sacrifice or glory involved in this. It’s just that while alive we’ll have done nothin’ to bring about the extinction of the country, and in death we’ll have avoided becomin’ conquered slaves. Conscience is bigger than life; it’s as simple as that. Goodbye, Mr Earth.’