He worked his fingers. It was his own brain creating a mirage, and it
was Cice's, too. The Venusians were sitting there, digging into each of
their brains, creating this terrible block that couldn't be penetrated.
She was crying now, and the sound of it, magnified five times, ground
against Caine's nerves. "Please, Nic," said the voices. "Please do
something!"
He struck his fist against his knee, and the movement juggled the
camera that was still around his neck. He grabbed it angrily and began
to throw the loop off. Suddenly he paused.
He remembered the frantic boy, ripping picture after picture out of
the compact black mechanism. He dropped to his haunches, keeping his
eyes upon the five images of the girl. They could make illusions of
themselves to Caine's brain, but could they trick a camera?
His right hand slowly unloosened his pistol in its holster. Then he
began talking to Cice, saying anything, to keep the sound of his voice
over the click of the camera's shutter. He drew the camera up against
one knee, as though he were making an unconscious nervous gesture, so
that the lens pointed at the five figures.
He released the shutter, and it seemed as though the sound of it were
magnified ten times.
He lifted the edge of the picture that appeared from a slot in the
upper part of the camera, and finally he dropped his glance. He saw in
the shiny photograph Cice and four green-skinned Venusians. Cice was
the second figure from the left.
His pistol was out of its holster and in his hand, and the jungle
screamed with the sound of the explosions and the cries and the
ricocheting bullets.
When it was over, four Venusians lay sprawling, visible now to Caine's
eyes, their hypnotic spell broken and their brains dead.
The girl, her hands against the sides of her face, was still on the
ground, but her body had stiffened with fright and she was trembling
all over.
"Oh, Nic," she said, over and over.
* * * * *
Caine stood up and looked at the bodies of the creatures he had just
killed. The sweat that had formed while he had carefully trapped the
Venusians turned cold on his skin. He unlooped the camera from his neck
and dropped it on the ground. Then he stood there, staring at the dead
green bodies, his face tight and mask-like.
The girl stood up unsteadily. She walked slowly to his side and touched
his arm. He jumped away, as though he had been struck by a needle. A
shudder went through the muscles where she had touched him.
"Nic, you...."
"Don't talk to me," he said, trying to keep his voice even and not
trembling, "and don't touch me. I don't want to hear you or feel you
again. I'll lead you back to the post, but don't come near me or I'll
kill you like I killed those poor creatures."
"You can't blame me for this, Nic," she said and there were thin lines
of tears on her cheeks. "I wouldn't have asked for this."
"Oh, yes, you would. You did. That's why it happened. You asked for it
when you needled me into coming down here. You asked for it when you
couldn't remember that an agreement with these people was something
valid and honest. You and your sweet dead friend, you're what's the
matter with this planet! You can't understand what decency and respect
are, so you step on anything that gets in your way, and if that won't
work you kick it or shoot it. But you destroy it and you don't really
give one simple damn, just so you enjoy yourself and get a laugh out
of it. And for me, I'm sick of it, and I'm going to get on the first
rocket I can find, so I can breathe again and feel clean and not get
sick to my stomach every time I look around."
He hoped she could not keep up with him.
But she did, and he could hear her behind him, gasping now and then,
crying once. But she followed him and when the jungle had turned dark
and he finally saw the yellow lights of the outpost, she was still
behind him, calling him.
He stopped and turned.
She leaned against a thick vine and Caine could see in the yellow light
from the windows of the houses, that her hair had been ruffled and
matted and that her dress was torn in a dozen places. A thin trickle of
blood was coming from a cut above her left eye. She was barefoot, Caine
noticed for the first time, and he knew what her feet must be like.
But the beauty was still there and the bearing, and although lines of
fatigue had been etched into her face, there was still the life and the
fire.
"What do you want?" he said flatly.
She clutched at the vine and Caine could see her biting the inside of
her lip. "I wanted to tell you, Nic, that I was wrong about you."
He waited motionless, keeping his eyes thin and hard.
"I thought you were strong, Nic. I thought you were the strongest man
I'd ever seen. You were a challenge and I wanted to see that strength
break. That's why I did what I did in that clearing back there. Only
just before the Venusians came I knew you were going to love me, hating
me at the same time. I didn't want you that way.
"It wasn't just a challenge then," she said, her white teeth gritting.
"It was _you_, because I suddenly thought you were noble and honest and
because I thought the strength was real. But I was wrong, Nic."
Caine wiped his palms slowly back and forth against his jacket.
She shook her head. "You haven't got any real strength. And you just
carry your nobility and your honesty around like a sign. They're not
inside of you. You scream for the rights of Venusians, you swear at
injustice. You damn the people who've colonized this planet, and you
hold yourself up like you thought you were a god. Only you're not.
You're not anything. You're just another cheap screamer with wide
shoulders and no guts. And instead of trying to do something about
what you're screaming against, you climb into the first ship going out
because you can't stand the sight of blood. You're not strong, you're
weak. I thought I loved you, only I can't love a weak man, and you're
weak." Her hand slipped from the vine and she crumpled to the ground.
Caine stood watching her for a long moment, then he walked slowly back
and picked her up. He held her in his arms. With his left hand, he
lifted her head so that he could see her face, and he saw the fatigue
there that had finally made her collapse and he saw the blood that was
still trickling along her cheek.
He bent down and kissed her lips, gently, and then he began to walk
toward the yellow light and the warmth and the rest. She was light and
soft in his arms, and he liked the feeling of her there. And so he took
his time, step by step, because he knew he wasn't going anywhere, not
for a long time.