Four Lords of Diamond - Book 1 (17 page)
The going was a lot slower now, since I couldn't see three meters in front of me, and the air became suddenly very wet and sticky. Still, I welcomed the gray cloak as a friend and ally, the first and only one I had ever had on this insane world.
I wasn't worried about the men approaching from below. Being human and bored, they would stop and exchange small talk with the women coming down; that would buy me a few precious minutes to add to the distance. Then- lantern would be little help once they made the dew line, so they'd be going as slowly as I. If I ran into no one else and if I could just make it over the top before the sun came up, I felt I might just get away.
The sky was certainly getting light by the tune I reached the summit, but by then I really didn't care any more. From this point on I'd be descending toward the wild—too early for any commercial traffic, I hoped—and into whatever brush there might be. I was out on my feet, every step a horrible experience, but I drove myself, knowing that I had to make it down, had to make it to cover, before the day really began. I hoped there would be only light patrols on this side of the range—if any at all. Not that they wouldn't be looking for me here, but with limited manpower Artur would concentrate mainly on keeping me bottled up. Only when they discovered the dead guards would their search become frantic, and only after that would they begin to widen it into places they did not control.
At least I hoped so.
I was soaked through by the tune I made it to the lower edge of the dew line, had been for a couple of hours. For the first time since being on Lilith, the combination of wetness, a light wind, and the slight elevation threw a genuine chill into me. It was getting really light now; the sun, I was sure, was going to peek through any minute now and perhaps burn off some of this cloud cover.
Now, out of the thick mountain-bred fog, I could see ahead of me my first real view on Lilith of a place other than Zeis Keep. There were rolling, thickly forested hills, it appeared, the trees and hilltops peeking out a dark blue-green from trapped pockets of thick ground fog. The place had an eerie stillness about it, and I felt certain that I would at least make it to the shelter of those trees.
I could no longer carry Ti, and ordered her to let go of my back and walk beside me. Though she could keep up by running if she had to, I took it slowly and carefully nonetheless. The stone path was slick and wet, and I wanted no accidents for either of us, not now—not when I had accomplished my immediate goal.
The sun was well up and warming the place into a steam bath before I finally decided I couldn't take any more and picked a spot not far from the road that seemed well concealed from prying eyes and barren of any obvious threat from natural causes. I sensitized Ti with a series of commands so that she would remain listening and would wake me if she heard anyone or anything approaching, then settled down under tree and bush cover on the grass and rock-strewn forest floor and let myself relax for the first time. No matter how rotten I felt, I
did
feel a strong sense of accomplishment.
I'd escaped! I'd made it! I was, for the first time in this body, once more a free man, a free agent! It felt really good.
Deep down, though, that nagging little voice I always carried with me sang a different tune.
All right, superhuman,
it mocked.
So now you're naked and unarmed in a strange and hostile world whose inhabitants are all raised against you, saddled with a robot-like girl, and you've got no place to go and no help to do anything else. All right,
Homo superior—
now what do you do?
There was only one response to that. I fell into the deepest of sleeps.
How long I slept there I have no idea, but it was late in the day when I awoke, feeling none too good. My body still ached, at least those parts that weren't already numb, and the uneven, rocky ground hadn't helped matters much. Still, I felt now as if I could do all right as long as I didn't have to climb any more mountains or carry Ti.
I realized that at least we wouldn't starve. Warden had described Lilith as something like Paradise, and in that he hadn't been far wrong. All the cultivated food of the Keeps came originally from plants that grew in the wild, and though the naturally grown stuff wouldn't taste as good or be as perfect there should be enough to sustain us.
But sustain us for what? The trouble with breaking out of a prison is that all of your energies are directed toward the breakout. What you're going to do once outside is vague and nebulous and never very practical. Such was the case here. Moab was roughly 4,800 kilometers south-southeast of where I was—a nice hike under any circumstances, and when the powers that be were hunting for you, it might as well be on another planet.
And they
were
hunting. Just sitting there in the few minutes after waking up I could see, far off, huge black leathery shapes, two great wings supporting a giant, wormlike body whose head was a mass of tendrils, combing along the sides of the road.
Besils
from Artur's force, without a doubt. I sat there and admired the way the riders could control the beasts, so that they didn't seem to fly in any normal fashion at all but rather to swim and flow, snakelike, through the air.
I had to make plans, both immediate and long-range, whether I wanted to or not. I certainly couldn't stay where I was; for one thing, we needed to find food, and for another, it was too close to the road directly to Zeis for me to remain long. The more distance I could put between Artur and me the better.
Nor would the trip be as comfortable as it would by necessity be leisurely. I was already becoming aware that chairs and castles weren't the only things held in Warden patterns—the entire Keep was under such a pattern. Lilith was a world where plants and insects thrived, but there'd been no mammalian or reptilian development. The microbes were unimportant; aside from the Warden organism itself, all the microscopic beasties were far too alien to affect human beings. But the insects swarmed and bred and swarmed some more in millions of shapes and sizes. In Zeis Keep, the minor bisects and pests were in some way locked out, absent. Now I found myself in a world where millions of things, many quite small, flew and crawled and creeped and hopped. I already had several small itchy bites from something or other, and a close examination of Ti showed more of the same.
were small pools and rivulets everywhere. Some of it looked pretty scummy, but I didnt hesitate simply because I knew that my little Wardens—and Ti's— would protect us from the worst>
Only after these necessities were taken care of did I allow myself to think beyond to what I was. actually going to do next. I simply couldn't manage to reach Moab Keep, help Ti, and stay out of Artur's clutches all on my own. I needed help—friends, people who could do more than I. But whom did I know on Lilith that wasn't either out to get me or locked inside Zeis Keep? The answer was obvious but unnerving.
I was somehow going to have to find Father Bronz and talk him into helping me. If the old priest wouldn't do it for me, I reasoned, he might do it for Ti, whom, I recalled, he had said he knew and for whom he had expressed some affection. Bronz it was —but where? I tried to remember. It had been a couple of weeks since Fd seen him, but he
had
mentioned where he was going next South, he'd said— and that was good, because that meant along this road. Shemlon Keep, I thought he'd said,
making
his rounds.
The map in my head clicked into play once more, and I easily located Shemlon, about twenty kilometers down this road, or off it
Near dusk we started walking, not on the road but parallel to it, choosing whatever cover we could find from random patrols and routine courier and other service. The road was lightly traveled, but during the late afternoon a few carts passed and even a few individuals, almost all masters, heading one way or the other. I had no illusions that word of me would not have reached Shemlon long before now; the aerial
besils
would have been active.
A long and dangerous trip, yes, but it didn't bother me very much. At least now I had some place to go and some reason for going there.
It took several days of lying low and several nights of slow walking to reach the border of Shemlon Keep.
During that time we had occasional problems finding edible food, but in the main Lilith proved bountiful. I wouldn't like to have had to feed a mob, but for just two of us it proved fairly easy going.
Shemlon was definitely quite different than Zeis. For one thing, the hills seemed to vanish into a nearly flat plain, much of which appeared to be thinly covered with water. A more careful examination snowed that they were growing
rasti,
a reddish, ricelike grain that was something of a Zeis staple. Now I knew where it came from.
There was but one village, it appeared, a large complex of hollow
bunti
huts arranged in a huge circle around the main building — a large mansion that appeared to be painted adobe. The mansion was about as primitive as Tiel's castle had been — eighty or a hundred rooms at least, in an odd geometrical assemblage of yellow-brown cubicles that looked as if it shouldn't stay up. Shemlon was obviously much smaller in terms of personnel than Zeis, although it might have been as large in area. It could have been the economics of the operation or it could mean that
the knight here was simply lower in rank, perhaps . slightly less powerful, than Tiel.
The layout worried me, though, since Fd spent a lot of time getting here and it had been some time since Bronx had been at Zeis. He had probably already been here and left. With put a single large village, I could hardly pass myself off as a pawn among them. I had to resort to extreme measures. My survival was at stake. So I bided my time for a day, checking out the layout and seeing who worked where, then selected a spot and finally a single individual working off by himself. He seemed to be repairing a gate on some sort of channel that fed river water to the paddies.
Leaving Ti well hidden at the edge of the bush, I stepped out near dusk, a time when most of the field hands had already returned -to their village and the repairman was getting ready to depart himself. I stepped out plain as could be and walked boldly toward him. His nakedness showed him to be a pawn, albeit a skilled worker of some sort, and my casual manner and rough appearance did nothing to arouse alarm.
I walked up to him with a wave and a nod. Hi, I said, really friendly. I'm new here, and I think some people played me for a sucker, sending me over into the mud. When I got back there was nobody left in the field.
The man looked up, a rough old face with a beard flecked with gray, and chuckled. Yeah, I know how it is. You wait up a moment and I'll take you hi.
I nodded appreciatively. It had all gone so easily that I really hated myself for what I would have to do. This was an ugly business and an ugly world.
We exchanged a little small talk, and then I got to the point. You know, I was a Catholic back Outside. Somebody told me there was a traveling priest around. Was that just more kidding?
Aw, no, he's for real, the old man replied. Was through here not far back. Too bad you missed him. He probably won't be back until after the harvest, several months from now.
I looked surprised. Where would he go?
Other Keeps, the old man replied matter-of-factly. He's probably just getting to Mola Keep, way off to the west there, right bout now. He's a good man, though I don't take much stock in his beliefs.
How long ago was he here? I pressed. I mean, when did he leave?
Day before yesterday—say, what's that to you?
I sighed. Because I'm Cal Tremon, I told him, and while he was still looking surprised, I killed him —as quickly and painlessly as I could. Killed him and carried his limp and lifeless body back to the bush so that, perhaps, he wouldn't be missed for a while.
The map in my head clicked again and I saw where Mola was—another thirty kilometers, by a side road. Not a long ride, no more than two days by afc-cart, the method Bronz likely used, but another long, wet, itchy, hungry walk all the same.
I felt bad about killing the old man. Certain people wouldn't bother me in the least—the upper classes here in particular, ones like Artur and Pohn and Tiel and Marek Kreegan. I felt no remorse for Kronlon, yet I mourned the old man, so casual and friendly, so totally innocent in all this. Mourned him, yet accepted the necessity of doing what I had done. I could hardly have walked-back to the village with him, and any other behavior would have had him telling stories about me, stories that would be all too plain if he were pressed by a supervisor.
Still, I couldn't forget the look in his eyes when Td said my name, a look that would haunt me for a long time. A look that said he hadn't the slightest idea who or what a Cal Tremon was.
Another two days of cautious walking. Another two days of insect bites, rotten fruit, stale water, thunderstorms I couldn't hide from, mud I couldn't avoid, bruises, and sore feet. The only good point about leaving Zeis Keep was that now I could really see the sky, which was a deep blue streaked with hints of red and violet, filled with but not totally blotted out by brownish clouds. By night you could sometimes see stars, a sight both reassuring and sad as well. Stars I could never again reach. Stars forever closed to me.
I was still three or four kilometers from Mola Keep when I spotted a small camp just off the road. This was highly unusual. I was curious to see what this was all about, curious and suspicious as well. Were they perhaps throwing up roadblocks now?
There was a small campfire, out now and glowing slightly, and a fairly fancy-looking bedroll. I looked at the
ak,
the huge rounded creature with the tiny head you could barely see almost dwarfing the cart it normally pulled. Though it was still, it looked alive and in good shape, as did the cart. Not a breakdown, then, I told myself—but one person alone, asleep out here in the wild. One person of some rank—a Master, probably.
Leaving Ti again in the protection of the bush, I crept as close as I dared,' wanting to check out who or what this person might be. Definitely a man, snoring fit to wake the dead. I felt hope rise within me. It couldn't be, I told myself. He'd be too far ahead, and in any event wouldn't have any reason not to make Mola—but sure enough, there he was.
I had found Father Bronz.
In my excitement I made a rustling noise that, considering the level of snoring, shouldn't even have been heard. Suddenly his eyes opened. Lying still, he cocked his head, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.
Father Bronz, I called to him in a loud whisper. It's me—Cal Tremon!
The priest chuckled, sat up, yawned and stretched, then rubbed his eyes and looked around. I stepped cautiously out into the open. I had no real reason to trust the man, but all things considered, I had no choice
but
to place myself in his hands.
Tremon! he croaked, still sounding half asleep. About time you got here. I'd about given you up.
I just stood there dumbstruck, staring at him. Finally I managed, You were
expecting
me?
He looked around. ' Why else would I stay in such a wondrous natural hotel? he grumbled sarcastically. Come on over and sit. I'll put on some tea.
I walked toward him, then stopped. I've forgotten Ti! I exclaimed, mostly to myself.
I have tea here, he responded, sounding confused.
No, no. Ti. The girl.
He laughed. Well, well! So you
did
take her! There was some question as to what happened.
I decided to fetch her before getting the details. At least I was no longer alone, and I hadn't been incinerated or otherwise molested, so whatever game Bronz was playing was in my favor.
I carried her back to Bronx's camp and he rose and walked over to her immediately, doing a fairly good imitation of Dr. Pohn but with far more compassion and concern. That bastard, he muttered. May he rot in hell forever. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on her forehead.
Can you do anything for her? I asked, genuinely concerned. She's nothing more than a living robot right now.
He sighed and thought for a moment. If I were a doctor, yes,
I cotdd. It I
knew my biology a little better, maybe. I can see where he's meddled, all right, but I don't dare risk doing anything myself. I might cause permanent brain damage or even kill her. No, we'll have to find help for her, that's all.
Not at a Keep, I responded hesitatingly. All they'd do is give her back to Dr. Pohn.
No, not at a Keep, he agreed, thinking. Not you, either. We have to get you someplace safe where you can get some help and Ti can get some expert care, though. I did anticipate the problems we'd have finding friends and allies and a hideout, although I didn't realize I'd have this kind of difficulty. He sighed again and went back over to the rekindled small fire, taking the gourd of water from the flame and adding some ground leaves from a pouch on his belt—one of several, I noted.
Come on over and sit down, he invited. It'll be ready in a few minutes and we have some time to kill anyway.
I did as instructed, already feeling a little better. I wanted to know a little more about Father Bronz, though.
You said that you anticipated our needing a hide-out, that you were waiting for me, I noted. Maybe you better explain a little.
He chuckled. Son, I was late getting out of Zeis. They had all the bigwigs coming for a party and it was decided that I should attend. Besides, the Duke and I are old Mends—I occasionally do him some favors.
I remember the night, I told him. It was the night I killed Kronlon and graduated, you might say. I thought you were long gone, though.
I'd intended to be, he responded, pouring tea into two smaller, nicely carved gourd cups. Politics is everything around here, though. Well, that got me a couple of days late into Shemlon, and I was still there when couriers from Zeis arrived with the news that you had been condemned to death but had escaped and were now a wanted fugitive. You are really hot, as they say, my son. Any pawn that even
helps
them get you won't ever have to work or feel a supervisor's wrath again.
I nodded: Just what I expected, but it eased my conscience a little about killing the old man.
Anyway, Bronz continued, it didn't take much in the way of brains to figure that you'd need a friend and I was the, only friend outside the Keep you had. So I was very noisy in spreading word around where I was going next. I didn't want you to try finding me in Shemlon, considering how much of a single entity the whole village setup is, so I traveled down the road about halfway to Mola, then camped here some time yesterday. I was willing to wait until somebody asked questions or until you showed up, whichever came first. But I
do
have to put
in
at Mola, if only for appearance's sake, you know.
You figured out my movements so easily, I pointed out, I wonder why Artur hasn't?
Oh, I'm sure the thought crossed his mind, Bronz replied cheerily. I've been getting a careful inspection from some of those flyers, and a fellow by here earlier gave me your description and told me how to report you. I wouldn't worry, though. I'm one of
them,
son! To them I'm an old friend of the Duke's, a familiar old face. It might occur to them that you'd seek me out, but it would
never
occur to them that I wouldn't immediately fry your gizzard or turn you in.
I sipped the tea. But you're not?
Of course not, he replied, sounding a bit miffed.
Would I have gone to all this trouble if I were? No, my son, in this bastion of the most primitive age of man on oid Earth I'm reviving a two-thousand-year-old church custom for you! It's called sanctuary. Back in ancient times, on our ancestral planet, the church was a power unto itself, a political power with a lot of force and clout, yet separate from the temporal powers because we owed our allegiance not to kings but to God. Political criminals in particular, but really anybody who was being chased, could run into a church or cathedral and claim sanctuary, and the church, would protect that person from temporal retribution. Well, you're asking for sanctuary, and how can I, as a Christian, turn you down? I've had it up to here with this godless tyranny anyway. And besides, he added with a wink and a smile, I've been bored to tears for ten years.
I laughed and finished my tea, whereupon he poured me more.
Now, then, he said, settling back once more, just what do you want to do?
I want to restore Ti, of course, I responded, but beyond that, I want to complete my treatments and training. They said I was at least Master class, and I want to reach that level badly. I want the opportunity to go as far as I can with the Warden power.
He nodded. That's reasonable. And the fact that you put Ti first—that in fact you vastly complicated your escape to get her out—is a real mark in your favor. But suppose I can get you to Moab Keep, to that crazy group down there, and you get all the power you can. Suppose you become a Master plus —Knight level, maybe. Then what?
Well ... I thought about his question, which was a fan- one. Just what
did I
want to do? I think, one day, if I have the power, I'd like to go back to Zeis Keep and take it for my own. Then—well, we'll see.
He chuckled. So you have designs on a knighthood, huh? Well, maybe you'll make it, Cal. Maybe you will... Still, first things first we have to get you to help, we have to get Ti to help, and then somehow we have to get you down to Moab.
I nodded, looking serious and feeling worse. It was all well and good to spout dreams, but the reality was a naked and mud-caked man sipping tea beside a small fire.
'Til have to put in my appearance ahead, as I mentioned, Father Bronz said. I've got a little extra here and you should be fairly comfortable for a couple of days. I figure if you can avoid all the traps and patrols to get this far, you certainly can just lie low.
And then what? I pressed, not liking to be so out of control of things and feeling a little helpless.
He grinned. Once I reach the Keep I can pull a favor or two, send a little message to certain parties. I'll work out a rendezvous and we can take it from there.
Certain parties? I thought this bound-up world wouldn't stand a resistance.
Oh, they're not anything of the kind, he replied. No, indeed. They're savages.
Two days, longer and worse on the nerves than any since I'd started this trip, I spent doing absolutely nothing near where I'd originally discovered Father, Bronz. I certainly trusted the odd priest far more than I had at the beginning. Not only did I have little choice in the matter, but if I hadn't seen Artur's grim face by this point, then Bronz wouldn't be the one to torn me in. Now the anxiety was mostly that something would happen to him before he could aid me.
I needn't have worried, though. Bronz held a position on Lilith that, though perhaps not unique, was enviable in the extreme. He went where he wanted and did what he wanted without being answerable to anyone, not even to his church superiors. As a well-known face among the keeps, he was always welcomed and never threatened. As a friend of the Duke and most of the more powerful knights in the east-central region of Lilith's single enormous continent, he was unlikely to be touched even by the most powerful psychopaths, since they, too, respected those more powerful than themselves. The price of all this, though, was that, though a Master himself, Bronz was simply not a threat to anybody else's position. As a priest, he seemed sincerely to care for the downtrodden, seeing his role in life as one of the very rare bridges between the elites in their castles and manor houses and the pawns condemned to eternal serfdom. His message of an all-powerful being who promised a heavenly life in the Hereafter to those who were good in this life appealed to the ruling classes, as a major official religion always appealed to such groups. And yet his faith, no matter how wrong or misplaced it might be, was the only rock of sanity for the pawns, their only hope. They suffered under the ultimate tyranny on Lilith: the ruling class was revolution-proof because the masses were born without the ability to use the Warden power.
Bronz returned late in the evening of the second day, looking very tired but satisfied. All set, he told me. We'll have to do some traveling, though. Our rendezvous is about two days' ride from here, and that's exactly how long we have in which to make it It's pretty hairy with the patrols right now, and they won't wait. Let's get going.
Now? I responded, feeling a little rushed after two days of marking time. It's almost dark, and you look all in. I don't want to lose
you—not
now.
He grinned feebly. Yes, now. I have some straw and my bedding, so we'll be able to hide Ti and, with some difficulty, your giant 'frame. But you're right—I am dead tired after doing five days' ministry in two as well as the usual politicking. That's why we go now.
You
can do the driving while I get a little sleep.
I was startled. Me? But you drive these damned things by talking to them, Warden-stylet I can't do
that!
Oh, Sheeba's a nice big bugger, she is, Bronz responded casually. She doesn't need any kick in the pants, and once we get to the split down here a ways there aren't any turnoffs we need concern ourselves with for thirty kilometers or more, so she'll just plod right along.
Why do you even need me, then? I asked, still apprehensive.
To stand guard, to wake me if there's any trouble, and if we are stopped by a patrol, to run like hell— but loudly.
And it was as simple as that. The huge beetlelike creature Father Bronz called Sheeba was as docile and plodding as he said and kept right to the road. The worst problem I had, other than contending with the priest's snores, was seeing every kind of terrible threat in the shadows. Twice I woke Bronz, convinced I'd seen something large shadowing us, once from the side of the road, once from the air. But after the second, his patience wore thin. Grow up and be a big boy, Tremon. You're much too oldlo be scared of the dark. Listen for the bugs, boy. As long as you can hear the bugs there's nobody around.
The truth was I felt more than physically naked standing in the afc-cart looking at nothing except an occasional star that peeked through the ever-present clouds. But the ever-present crescendo of bisect noises, a background I'd gotten so used to by this time I'd just about tuned it out of my conscious, never ceased.
Bronz awoke before dawn on his own, and we stopped for tea.
Damned nuisance, this place, the priest muttered. You can't take food with you, it rots in a day unless you have a couple of agriculture masters around to see it shipped safely and some others to store it properly. Me, I get along by roadside pickings and save my Warden energies for my gourds and teas.
I took the hint, and shortly before dawn was on a foraging expedition into the bush. I didn't come bacfc with much, since I dared not risk going too far from the road, but it was enough—a few melons, a handful or two of berries. Bronz worked some of his Warden magic on them so that we were able to keep a tiny supply, but clearly his area of expertise, if he had one, lay elsewhere.
Daylight was the time of greatest risk. Although Bronz had chosen a route that took us away from the more congested Keeps and where the wild was dominant, we came upon the occasional traveler nonetheless.
Scrunching down in the cart, covering myself with straw and bedding as best I could, I had to stay there, still as possible, praying I could keep from coughing or sneezing or moving no matter how long the conversation (and some were
very
long). Most were supervisors, some with a/fc-carts of their own, who were delivering something from one Keep to another, but there was an occasional master as well. All were worrisome, since I doubted if Father Bronz would kill even to protect me. But the masters were the most irritating, since they possibly could outdo Bronz himself.
. One time we even ran into an actual roadblock, the one thing we never expected, which indicated just how far afield Artur was willing to go. Fortunately, Father Bronz knew the two guards and talked us through it. Since I didn't really have a low opinion of Artur, I suspect that if those two mentioned in their report they passed Bronz without conducting an inspection there would be two fewer guards from Zeis Keep, no matter how reliable the priest was deemed to be.
It was like that all over, though, I knew. Act as if you own the place, betray no anxiety, and you can get away with the damnedest things, even in a crowd.
Most of the time, though, the road was empty, so Bronz and I could talk—and did we ever. There was little else to do, and I was anxious to learn.
You don't much like the system on Lilith, I note, he commented once.
I gave a dry laugh. Stratified oppression, a tiny ruling class in permanent power—mostly the best criminal minds humanity has produced. I think it stinks.
What would you do, then? he came back, sounding amused. What sort of system would, say, Lord Cal Tremon impose that would supplant this one?
The Warden organism makes that tough, I replied carefully. Obviously power corrupts —Bronz gave me a hurt look— most people, I rescued myself. The people with the power are generally the most corrupt to begin with, since outsiders tend to have a higher degree of this power, and only the corrupt are sent here.
He smiled. So corruption cometh to Paradise, and the snakes rule Eden, is that it? Get rid of the snakes and Eden returns?
You're mocking me. No, I don't believe that and you know it. But a more enlightened leadership could produce a better standard of living for the pawns without all this torture and degradation.
Could it? he mused. I wonder. This is a complex planet, but I think you are being too one-dimensional on its limitations. You think of the Warden organism only in terms of the power it gives some people. You must recognize it as a
total
fact of life
tot everything
on Lilith, not merely for who's got the power. The Warden organism is a peculiarity of the evolution of this world; it was not designed for human beings. It is just a freak of nature that we're able to tap into it.
What do you mean?
Think of the Warden beast as a regulator, a balancer that evolved of necessity here. Exactly why it evolved is not for me to say, but my best guess would be that this world, for much of its past, went through some pretty violent changes. I don't know the nature of them, but there are reptiles, mammals, crystalline creatures of some sort—all sorts of creatures on the other Warden worlds that are not found here. Here only the insect was able to survive, it being the most adaptable and, ironically, the least likely to change. But I suspect that even the insects and the plants were threatened by whatever changes the planet underwent, so much so that there evolved a mechanism in nature to keep things stable—at equilibrium, you might say.
Why
the planet needs to be kept in that state is another question for which I don't have any answers, but it does. In some funny way the planet
needs
this ecosystem, at least to survive. That's the reason for the Warden organism.
You talk as if the planet itself were alive.
He nodded slowly. I have often found it more convenient to think that way. Look, when man originally set out from Earth centuries ago he expected to find very alien worlds. What did he find? Mostly worlds that were crater-strewn and dead, gas giants, frozen rock piles, and occasionally a planet that perhaps was a mess but could be terraformed. Most of the livable planets not needing a lot of work were already inhabited, some by mere plants and animals but some by other species. And yet—no matter how crazy the biology was or the ecosystem balance or the patterns of thought and behavior of nonhumans—they were all
comprehensible.
We could say, 'Oh, yes, the Alphans are tentacled protoplasmic blobs, but look at the environment they evolved in, look how we trace it thus and so, and look how the environmental conditions shaped their cultures, their ways of thinking, and so forth.' Their own cultures and ways of life might have been so crazy that we couldn't find anything in common with them, couldn't follow their reasoning at all, but taken as a whole they were all
comprehensible.
We never met a world so alien we couldn't at least understand, under the laws of physical and social science, how it got that way. Not until Lilith and her sisters.
I looked around at the foliage, at the deep blue sky, and at the remains of melon and berries. Frankly, I can't see where you're heading, I told him. In terms of familiarity, this world is more familiar than many I've been on.
