Hiero Desteen (Omnibus) (6 page)

He sat back, for once effectively silenced, and the long, window-less room, lit only by the fluors on the wall, stayed quiet while both men took thought. It was Hiero who broke the silence, at length.

"Do you have any idea what it is I am to seek for, sir?" he asked quietly. "Or is it anything, just something that may turn up?"

"Well, there's that all right," the older man said. "But we're a bit more hopeful and knowledgeable, mind you, than that. We're looking for weapons, obviously. Now, The Death was caused by weapons. We don't want those again, certainly. The plagues, the nuclear poisons, all those things ought to stay buried. Unless the Unclean revive them, and I fear that mightily, I tell you! No, we want none such. But there are other things of power which are more or less intangible, at least in ordinary terms." He seemed to change his thoughts, and for a moment Hiero was puzzled.

"Did you ever reflect on our own central files at Abbey Central, Hiero?" the abbot asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Of course, Father," the priest answered. "I mean, what do you mean "reflect?"

"What do you think of them, that's what I mean," Demero snapped. "Are they efficient, are they useful? They cover an area of over two square miles underground, and they employ over two hundred highly trained priests and scholars. Is it worth it?"

Hiero saw that his old master was leading up to something, but for his soul he couldn't see what it was.

"Why, of course, certainly they're valuable," he said, thinking hard. "Without their collected and collated information, we'd never be able to get anything done. Half our research effort is simply adding to the information in those files. What's the point?"

"The point is this," Demero said. "When I ask for information, information, mind you, which I know to be somewhere in the files, it often takes days to get it Then, perhaps I need to balance several facts against each other; let us say the rainfall in the east of Sask province, the yield of crops in the south, the latest news of buffer migrations. So, it takes more time to get these. Then, with the help of others, I balance them, weigh them together, and make decisions. But you know all this, right?"

"Of course," Hiero said, intrigued by the other's manner, "but what of it? That's what's done with information; it gets utilized. So what does that prove?"

"All right," his elder resumed. "Now, suppose, just suppose I had gone to the files and told the files,
not,
mind you, the librarians,
the files themselves,
all I have just told you about our danger. Don't interrupt, boy, I haven't lost my sense yet. The files
themselves
next put all known information on this subject together and in ten minutes gave me back a sheet of paper which said as follows: If you do
x, y,
and
z
in that order, the enemy should be totally defeated.' " He paused, a gleam in his eye. "What do you think of that, eh?"

"Talking files?" Hiero said, one eyebrow cocked. "I assume, of course, you're not joking. We have begun to re-explore this radio thing, I know, but that's just people and an instrument. You're talking about a—well, a machine, a thing, holding all information and dispensing not just odd facts, but
conclusions.
Are you telling me such a thing is possible?"

The abbot sat back, satisfied. "Yes, son, not only possible, but well known at one time, in the years before The Death. The machines were called 'computers.' Some of the scientists doing research on the archives of the lost age are led to believe that certain computers existed that were larger than this building we're in. Can you begin to imagine the possibilities?"

Hiero sat staring at the wall behind Abbot Demero, his mind racing. If such things existed, and he knew the abbot would not lightly mention a possibility as a fact, the world could be changed overnight.
All
the knowledge of the past might very well still be in existence somewhere. It was a frightening thought, for it meant that all the secrets of the age of The Death were presumably hidden and available as well.

"I see you're beginning to reflect a little on the possibilities," the old priest said. "The Science Committee has picked you to go south and east, far to the East, where we have reason to believe these things may still lie buried in certain of their lost caverns. Five other men will go elsewhere. It's best none of you know the others' plans." He did not elaborate, nor need to. If any of the six should fall into the hands of the Unclean alive, the less they knew of their colleagues' venturings the better.

"Now come over here, Hiero, and I'll go over the maps with you. They have the latest information of these probable computer sites. You mustn't expect to find a vast sort of library, you know. The information was apparently coded in different ways and put in the great machines in ways we only dimly comprehend. You'll get a briefing from some scholars who've gone furthest into the field later . . ."

And so the tale had gone. Telling this all to the bear, clever as the animal was, was simply not possible, if only because bears, even mutant bears, didn't read or write. But Hiero patiently and steadily made certain facts clear. In the blackest hours, before the first light of dawn, the man finally relaxed and willed himself to snatch a little sleep. Gorm now understood that his friend was on a long journey, but to Hiero's gratification, he still wanted to come. Also, the bear had enough reasoning power to understand that there was knowledge he could
not
understand; in fact, he might have been the first of his species to grasp the idea of abstract knowledge. He knew that the man was a foe of the Leemutes and that they were seeking something in a far land to hurt these evil things. With this knowledge he was content, and now he also rested, occasionally letting out the faint, puffing snore of a sleeping bear. Standing over the two, still saddled, his legs locked tight at the knee joints, the great morse kept his unbroken watch, in a state perhaps between dreaming and waking, but with all his magnificent senses alert for the first sign of danger. Klootz was not tired, and his kind did not lie down to sleep in any case, although they sometimes rested with their legs tucked under them. But tonight he rocked and swayed, chewing his cud and missing nothing that passed in the night, a sentinel without compare.

At first light, Hiero felt a velvet touch on his forehead and looked up to see the great, damp muzzle an inch from his. Satisfied that his master was awake, Klootz carefully lifted his huge hooves from either side of the man's body and moved out of the little grove into the gray dawn. In a moment the crunch of shredded bushes being devoured signaled that his breakfast had commenced.

Hiero rubbed his eyes. He was stiff, but not unduly so. It would have been better to have unpacked his bedroll and made a bed of spruce tips, but he had simply been too tired and too busy the night before. Besides, he was a seasoned woodsman, and a night spent on dry ground meant little to him. He looked over and saw Gorm was also awake and giving himself a wash with a long, pink tongue.

Any water about?
he sent.

Listen
(you can)
hear it,
came not from the bear but from the bull morse. A mental picture of a small stream a hundred yards off came to the man, and he rose and followed Klootz, who was ambling that way.

In twenty minutes, all had washed, eaten, and were ready for their new day's travel. Hiero ruefully checked his
pemeekan
supply. The way Gorm ate, it would be gone in no time and they would have to stop and hunt. This, aside from carrying an unnecessary extra element of danger, would further delay them.

Gorm caught his thought, which was unguarded.
Try and save the sweet food,
he sent.
I can find much of my own.
Once again, the brains and unselfishness of the strange creature who had appeared in his life out of nowhere made Hiero blink.

Hiero next rubbed Klootz down with a double handful of thick moss. He felt guilty for having left the big animal saddled and packed all night, but the morse seemed none the worse for it, and a roll in the little brook, which sent water cascading up the banks, put him in fine fettle.

The sun was now fully up and the forest was alive with sound and movement. Birds were everywhere, and as they began to travel, the priest glimpsed startled deer and small rabbits, as well as a sounder of Grokon passing along a distant aisle of the pines, even the striped young hoglets considerably larger than Hiero himself.

Gorm, the night before, had attempted to explain the route he thought best to follow. The man could only grasp parts of it, but he gathered that a considerable marsh lay to the south and that it was necessary to cross it at its narrowest place. The road on which he and Klootz had journeyed for the last week was a place of great peril, watched by many unseen eyes. It was only luck that the two had come so far undisturbed, for no people had used that road in a long time, or if they had, they had not lived to go very far upon it. On no account must they return to it for any reason. The fact that so few human beings traveled alone through the wild might have dulled the watchfulness of the Unclean and allowed morse and man to come as far as they had. But now, surely the whole area would be on guard. And when the slain wizard was inevitably discovered, they could expect a hue and cry of massive proportions indeed to be set on foot by the enemy, so Gorm indicated. Once again, mind speech was to be halted, or at least understood by man and bear to be held to a minimum.

They had gone perhaps three hours from the night's resting place when they received proof that they were not to journey undisturbed and unsought. The three were fording a shallow brook when Hiero felt the morse stiffen under him and at the same time saw the young bear come erect on the bank just ahead. A second later, his own, less alert senses were assaulted. He had never felt anything quite like it before. It was as if something strange clawed for his mind. A savage, questing force somehow probed at his inner being. He drew on all his own years of training and managed to make no response, keeping the pressure and the
call,
for there was an element of that too, away, repelling it by not acknowledging it. For what seemed like a long minute and was probably very little time, a mere instant, the searching presence seemed to hover over him in an almost physical way; then it moved on. He knew it had gone on elsewhere, but he was not absolutely sure he had managed to deceive or deflect it. He looked first at Gorm and in turn saw the bear's weak little eyes fixed on him.

Something bad hunts,
came the message.
I
was
(only)
a bear. It left me and did not
(see)
me.

I
(think)
it missed me,
Hiero sent.
And Klootz also, for it is not hunting four-footed animals, at least not yet.

There will be other things
(like the)
evil fur things of yesterday,
came the bear's thought.
This forest is full of many creatures who
(serve/hunt for)
the evil power. Many of them go on four legs and have good noses.

The priest found less and less trouble understanding the bear. The whole exchange, plus a new decision, now to utilize the stream, was over in a split second.

All day long, they followed the brook, for it was little more, down its winding path. As much as possible, they stayed actually in the water, so as to leave as few tracks as possible. The force or entity which had tried to locate them did not reveal itself further. They saw fewer animals, though, and none of the larger ones at all. Once a great, foot-long water beetle sought to bite Gorm with its savage pincers, but he avoided it easily, and Klootz, following close behind, brought a great, flattening hoof squarely down upon its armored back. Very few of the giant insects bred from The Death's radiation were much of a menace, since they tended to be slow-moving and clumsy.

They made an early camp on an island. The stream which Hiero had not been able to locate on his maps, probably because it was too small, broadened a little, without getting more than two feet deep, and the little, willow-hung islet might have been designed for them.

While the bear went shambling off in search of food and Klootz, now unsaddled, wrenched succulent water plants from the stream bed, the man ate a frugal supper of biscuit and
pemeekan
while he tried to analyze what he had learned in the last few days. There was sunlight still, and Hiero had camped early because he needed light. He wanted very much to examine the various articles he had taken from the dead man, and this was the first opportunity.

The metal rod came first. A little less than an inch thick and about a foot long, of a very hard, bluish substance, not unlike patinated bronze, at first sight it looked unornamented. A closer look showed Hiero that four tiny knobs, set in a curved line, were sticking out of the sides. Hesitantly, he pushed one. At once an extension of the rod's other end began. The thing was a cylinder, with many tubes beautifully fitting one inside the other. While Hiero watched, it extended itself until it was a slender wand about five feet long. He pushed the same button again and it began to retract into itself once more. He stopped it by pushing it a third time. Next, he tried another button, the central one of the three. Two flat, oval discs on the end of two delicate arms emerged from the supposedly featureless rod, and each stopped at a six-inch distance away from the rod, forming a prong set at right angles to the rod's body. Hiero turned the rod over and examined it from every angle, but he could not fathom the purpose of the discs. He raised the rod's lower end to eye level to examine the discs better, but they were featureless. He tried to look at the rod's body again, while holding it upright, but he forgot the discs on their arms and - they banged into his forehead, just over his eyes. Annoyed with himself, he started to lower them when suddenly he stopped and gently put them back where they had been. They fit! Excited, he held the rod upright and extended it to its fullest length, keeping the two ovals on their extensions clamped to his forehead. He was now beginning to get an idea of what he held, and with great care, he slowly pressed the third tiny knob.