The Edmond Hamilton Megapack: 16 Classic Science Fiction Tales (59 page)

He held her tight. She was definitely female. After a moment he pushed her away.

“That was a mistake. I want to be able to go on disliking you without any qualifying considerations.”

She laughed, a curiously flat little sound. “Was everybody crazy in your day?” she asked. And then, “Reed—”

It was the first time she had used his given name. “What?”

“When they threw the stones, and we got back into the flitter, you pushed me ahead of you. You were guarding me. Why?”

He stared at her, or rather at the pale blur of her standing close to him. “Well, it’s always been sort of the custom for the men to— But now that I think of it, Webber didn’t bother.”

“No,” said Paula. “Back in your day women were still taking advantage of the dual standard—demanding complete equality with men but clinging to their special status. We’ve got beyond that.”

“Do you like it? Beyond, I mean.”

“Yes,” she said. “It was good of you to do that, but—”

Webber said, “They’re moving again. Come on.”

The people walked this time, strung out in a long line between the trees and the water, where the light was a little better and the way more open. The three outlanders tagged behind, clumsy in their boots and clothing. The long hair of the people blew in the wind and their bare feet padded softly, light and swift.

Kieran looked up at the sky. The trees obscured much of it so that all he could see was some scattered stars overhead. But he thought that somewhere a moon was rising.

He asked Paula and she said, “Wait. You’ll see.”

Night and the river rolled behind them. The moonlight became brighter, but it was not at all like the moonlight Kieran remembered from long ago and far away. That had had a cold tranquility to it, but this light was neither cold nor tranquil. It seemed somehow to shift color, too, which made it even less adequate for seeing than the white moonlight he was used to. Sometimes as it filtered through the trees it seemed, ice-green, and again it was reddish or amber, or blue.

They came to a place where the river made a wide bend and they cut across it, clear of the trees. Paula touched Kieran’s arm and pointed. “Look.”

Kieran looked, and then he stopped still. The light was not moonlight, and its source was not a moon. It was a globular cluster of stars, hung in the sky like a swarm of fiery bees, a burning and pulsing of many colors, diamond-white and gold, green and crimson, peacock blue and smoky umber. Kieran stared, and beside him Paula murmured, “I’ve been on a lot of planets, but none of them have anything like this.”

The people moved swiftly on, paying no attention at all to the sky.

Reluctantly Kieran followed them into the obscuring woods. He kept looking at the open sky above the river, waiting for the cluster to rise high so he could see it.

It was some time after this, but before the cluster rose clear of the trees, that Kieran got the feeling that something, or someone, was following them.

CHAPTER 7

He had stopped to catch his breath and shake an accumulation of sand out of his boots. He was leaning against a tree with his back to the wind, which meant that he was facing their back-trail, and he thought he saw a shadow move where there was nothing to cast a shadow. He straightened up with the little trip-hammers of alarm beating all over him, but he could see nothing more. He thought he might have been mistaken. Just the same, he ran to catch up with the others.

The people were moving steadily. Kieran knew that their senses were far keener than his, and they were obviously not aware of any danger other than the basic one of the Sakae. He decided that he must have been seeing things.

But an uneasiness persisted. He dropped behind again, this time on purpose, after they had passed a clearing. He stayed hidden behind a tree-trunk and watched. The cluster-light was bright now but very confusing to the eye. He heard a rustling that he did not think was wind, and he thought that something started to cross the clearing and then stopped, as though it had caught his scent.

Then he thought that he heard rustlings at both sides of the clearing, stealthy sounds of stalking that closed in toward him. Only the wind, he told himself, but again he turned to run. This time he met Paula, coming back to look for him.

“Reed, are you all right?” she asked. He caught her arm and pulled her around and made her run. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.” He hurried with her until he could see Webber ahead, and beyond him the bare backs and blowing hair of the people. “Listen,” he said, “are there any predators here?”

“Yes,” Paula said, and Webber turned sharply around.

“Have you seen something?”

“I don’t know. I thought I did. I’m not sure.”

“Where?”

“Behind us.”

Webber made the harsh barking danger call, and the people stopped. Webber stood looking back the way they had come. The women caught the children and the men fell back to where Webber stood. They looked and listened, sniffing the air. Kieran listened too, but now he did not hear any rustlings except the high thrashing of the branches. Nothing stirred visibly and the wind would carry away any warning scent.

The men turned away. The people moved on again. Webber shrugged.

“You must have been mistaken, Kieran.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they just can’t think beyond the elementary. If they don’t smell it, it isn’t there. If something is after us it’s coming up-wind, the way any hunting animal works. A couple of the men ought to circle around and—”

“Come on,” said Webber wearily.

They followed the people beside the river. The cluster was high now, a hive of suns reflected in the flowing water, a kaleidoscopic rippling of colors.

Now the women were carrying the smaller children. The ones too large to be carried were lagging behind a little. So were the aged. Not much, yet. Kieran, conscious that he was weaker than the weakest of these, looked ahead at the dim bulk of the mountains and thought that they ought to be able to make it. He was not at all sure that he would.

The river made another bend. The trail lay across the bend, clear of the trees. It was a wide bend, perhaps two miles across the neck. Ahead, where the trail joined the river again, there was a rocky hill. Something about the outlines of the hill seemed wrong to Kieran, but it was too far away to be sure of anything. Overhead the cluster burned gloriously. The people set out across the sand.

Webber looked back. “You see?” he said. “Nothing.”

They went on. Kieran was beginning to feel very tired now, all the artificial strength that had been pumped into him before his awakening was running out. Webber and Paula walked with their heads down, striding determinedly but without joy.

“What do you think now?” she asked Kieran. “Is this any way for humans to live?”

The ragged line of women and children moved ahead of them, with the men in the lead. It was not natural, Kieran thought, for children to be able to travel so far, and then he remembered that the young of non-predacious species have to be strong and fleet at an early age.

Suddenly one of the women made a harsh, shrill cry.

Kieran looked where she was looking, off to the left, to the river and the curving line of trees. A large black shadow slipped across the sand. He looked behind him. There were other shadows, coming with long easy bounds out of the trees, fanning out in a shallow crescent. They reminded Kieran of some animal he had once seen in a zoo, a partly catlike, partly doglike beast, a cheetah he thought it had been called, only the cheetah was spotted like a leopard and these creatures were black, with stiff, upstanding ears. They bayed, and the coursing began.

“Nothing,” said Kieran bitterly. “I count seven.”

Webber said, “My God, I—”

The people ran. They tried to break back to the river and the trees that could be climbed to safety, but the hunters turned them. Then they fled blindly forward, toward the hill. They ran with all their strength, making no sound. Kieran and Webber ran with them, with Paula between them. Webber seemed absolutely appalled.

“Where’s that gun you had?” Kieran panted.

“It’s not a gun, only a short-range shocker,” he said. “It wouldn’t stop these things. Look at them!”

They bounded, sporting around them, howling with a sound like laughter. They were as large as leopards and their eyes glowed in the cluster-light. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, as though hunting was the most delightful game in the world. One of them ran up to within two feet of Kieran and snapped at him with its great jaws, dodging agilely when he raised his arm. They drove the people, faster and faster. At first the men had formed around the women and children. But the formation began to disintegrate as the weaker ones dropped behind, and no attempt was made to keep it. Panic was stronger than instinct now. Kieran looked ahead. “If we can make it to that hill—”

Paula screamed and he stumbled over a child, a girl about five, crawling on her hands and knees. He picked her up. She bit and thrashed and tore at him, her bare little body hard as whalebone and slippery with sweat. He could not hold onto her. She kicked herself free of his hands and rushed wildly out of reach, and one of the black hunters pounced in and bore her away, shrieking thinly like a fledgling bird in the jaws of a cat.

“Oh my God,” said Paula, and covered her head with her arms, trying to shut out sight and sound. He caught her and said harshly, “Don’t faint, because I can’t carry you.” The child’s mother, whichever of the women it might have been, did not look back.

An old woman who strayed aside was pulled down and dragged off, and then one of the white-haired men. The hill was closer. Kieran saw now what was wrong with it. Part of it was a building. He was too tired and too sick to be interested, except as it offered a refuge. He spoke to Webber, with great difficulty because he was winded. And then he realized that Webber wasn’t there.

Webber had stumbled and fallen. He had started to get up, but the hunters were on him. He was on his hands and knees facing them, screaming at them to get away from him. He had, obviously, had little or no experience with raw violence. Kieran ran back to him, with Paula close behind.

“Use your gun!” he yelled. He was afraid of the black hunters, but he was full of rage and the rage outweighed the fear. He yelled at them, cursing them. He hurled sand into their eyes, and one that was creeping up on Webber from the side he kicked. The creature drew off a little, not frightened but surprised. They were not used to this sort of thing from humans. “Your gun!” Kieran roared again, and Webber pulled the snub-nosed thing out of his pocket. He stood up and said unsteadily, “I told you, it’s not a gun. It won’t kill anything. I don’t think—”

“Use it,” said Kieran. “And get moving again. Slowly.”

They started to move, and then across the sky a great iron voice spoke like thunder. “Lie down,” it said, “please. Lie down flat.”

Kieran turned his head, startled. From the direction of the building on the hill a vehicle was speeding toward them.

“The Sakae,” said Webber with what was almost a sob of relief. “Lie down.”

As he did so, Kieran saw a pale flash shoot out from the vehicle and knock over a hunter still hanging on the flanks of the fleeing people. He hugged the sand. Something went whining and whistling over him, there was a thunk and a screech. It was repeated, and then the iron voice spoke again.

“You may get up now. Please remain where you are.” The vehicle was much closer. They were bathed in sudden light. The voice said, “Mr. Webber, you are holding a weapon. Please drop it.”

“It’s only a little shocker,” Webber said, plaintively. He dropped it.

The vehicle had wide tracks that threw up clouds of sand. It came clanking to a halt. Kieran, shading his eyes, thought he distinguished two creatures inside, a driver and a passenger.

The passenger emerged, climbing with some difficulty over the steep step of the track, his tail rattling down behind him like a length of thick cable. Once on the ground he became quite agile, moving with a sort of oddly graceful prance on his powerful legs. He approached, his attention centered on Kieran. But he observed the amenities, placing one delicate hand on his breast and making a slight bow.

“Doctor Ray.” His muzzle, shaped something like a duck’s bill, nevertheless formed Paula’s name tolerably well. “And you, I think, are Mr. Kieran.”

Kieran said, “Yes.” The star-cluster blazed overhead. The dead beasts lay behind him, the people with their flying hair had run on beyond his sight. He had been dead for a hundred years and now he was alive again. Now he was standing on alien soil, facing an alien form of life, communicating with it, and he was so dog-tired and every sensory nerve was so thoroughly flayed that he had nothing left to react with. He simply looked at the Saka as he might have looked at a fence-post, and said, “Yes.”

The Saka made his formal little bow again. “I am Bregg.” He shook his head. “I’m glad I was able to reach you in time. You people don’t seem to have any notion of the amount of trouble you make for us—”

Paula, who had not spoken since the child was carried off, suddenly screamed at Bregg, “Murderer!”

She sprang at him, striking him in blind hysteria.