Intent upon joining Sssuri, Dalgard left the lock, forgetting his
earlier unwillingness, stepping from the small chamber down to the sea
bottom, or endeavoring to, although instinctively he had begun to swim
and so forged ahead at a different rate of speed.
Waving fronds of giant water plants, such as were found only in the
coastal shallows, grew forest fashion but did not hide rocks which
stretched up in a sharp rise not too far ahead. The scout could not
see the merman, but as he held onto one of those fronds he caught the
other's summons:
"Here--by the rocks--!"
Pushing his way through the drifting foliage, Dalgard swam ahead to
the foot of the rocky escarpment. And there he saw what had so excited
his companion.
Sssuri had just driven away an encircling collection of sand-dwelling
scavengers, and what he was on his knees studying intently was an
almost clean-picked skeleton of one of his own race. But there was
something odd--Dalgard brushed aside a tendril of weed which cut his
line of vision and so was able to see clearly.
White and clean most of those bones were, but the skull was blackened,
and similar charring existed down one arm and shoulder. That merman
had not died from any mishap in the sea!
"It is so," Sssuri replied to his thought. "_They_ have come once more
to give the flaming death--"
Dalgard, startled, looked up that slope which must lead to the island
top above the waves.
"Long dead?" he asked tentatively, already guessing what the other's
answer would be.
"The pickers move fast," Sssuri indicated the sand dwellers. "Perhaps
yesterday, perhaps the day before--but no longer than that."
"And _they_ are up there now?"
"Who can tell? However, _they_ do not know the sea, nor the islands--"
It was plain that the merman intended to climb to investigate what
might be happening above. Dalgard had no choice but to follow. And it
was true that the merpeople had no peers or equals when it came to
finding their ways about the sea and the coasts. He was confident that
Sssuri could get to the island top and discover just what he wished to
learn without a single sentry above, if they had stationed sentries,
being the wiser. Whether he himself could operate as efficiently was
another matter.
In the end they half climbed, half swam upward, detouring swiftly once
to avoid the darting attack of a rock hornet, harmless as soon as they
moved out of the reach of its questing stinger, for it was anchored
for its short life to the rough hollow in which it had been hatched.
Dalgard's head broke water as he rolled through the surf onto a scrap
of beach in the lee of a row of tooth-pointed outcrops. It was late
evening by the light, and he clawed the mask off his face to draw
thankful lungfuls of the good outer air. Sssuri, his fur sleeked tight
to his body, waded ashore, shook himself free of excess water, and
turned immediately to study the wall of the cliff which guarded the
interior of the island.
This was one of a chain of such isles, Dalgard noted, now that he had
had time to look about him. And with their many-creviced walls they
were just the type of habitations which appealed most strongly to the
merpeople. Here could be found the dry inner caves with underwater
entrances, which they favored for their group homes. And in the sea
were kelp beds for harvesting.
The cliffs did not present too much of a climbing problem. Dalgard
divested himself of the diving equipment, tucking it into a hollow
which he walled up with stones that he thought the waves would not
scour out in a hurry. He might need it again. Then, hitching his belt
tighter, pressing what water he could out of his clothing, and
settling his bow and quiver to the best advantage at his back, he
crossed to where Sssuri was already marking claw holds.
"We may be seen--" Dalgard craned his neck, trying to make out details
of what might be waiting above.
The merman shook his head with a quick jerk of negation. "_They_ are
gone. Behind them remains only death--much death--" And the bleakness
of his thoughts reached the scout.
Dalgard had known Sssuri since he was a toddler and the other a cub
coming to see the wonders of dry land for the first time. Never,
during all their years of close association since, had he felt in the
other a desolation so great. And to that emotional blast he could make
no answer.
In the twilight, with the last red banners across the sky at their
back, they made the climb. And it was as if the merman had closed off
his mind to his companion. Flesh fingers touched scaled ones as they
moved from one hold to the next, but Sssuri might have been half a
world away for all the communication between them. Never had Dalgard
been so shut out and with that his sensitivity to the night, to the
world about him, was doubly acute.
He realized--and it worried him--that perhaps he had come to depend
too much on Sssuri's superior faculty of communication. It was time
that he tried to use his own weaker powers to the utmost extent. So,
while he climbed, Dalgard sent questing thoughts into the gloom. He
located a nest of duck-dogs, those shy waterline fishers living in
cliff holes. They were harmless and just settling down for the night.
But of higher types of animals from which something might be
learned--hoppers, runners--there were no traces. For all he was able
to pick up, they might be climbing into blank nothingness.
And that in itself was ominous. Normally he should have been able to
mind touch more than duck-dogs. The merpeople lived in peace with most
of the higher fauna of their world, and a colony of hoppers, even a
covey of moth birds, would settle in close by a mer tribe to garner in
the remnants of feasts and for protection from the flying dragons and
the other dangers they must face.
"_They_ hunt all life," the first break in Sssuri's self-absorption
came. "Where _they_ walk the little, harmless peoples face only death.
And so it has been here." He had pulled himself over the rim of the
cliff, and through the dark Dalgard could hear him panting with the
same effort which made his own lungs labor.
Just as the stench of the snake-devil's lair had betrayed its site,
here disaster and death had an odor of its own. Dalgard retched before
he could control throat and stomach muscles. But Sssuri was unmoved,
as if he had expected this.
Then, to Dalgard's surprise the merman set up the first real call he
had ever heard issue from that furred throat, a plaintive whistle
which had a crooning, summoning note in it, akin to the mind touch in
an odd fashion, yet audible. They sat in silence for a long moment,
the human's ears as keen for any sound out of the night as those of
his companion. Why did Sssuri not use the customary noiseless greeting
of his race? When he beamed that inquiry, he met once again that
strange, solid wall of non-acceptance which had enclosed the merman as
they climbed. As if now there was danger to be feared from following
the normal ways.
Again Sssuri whistled, and in that cry Dalgard heard a close
resemblance to the flute tone of the night moth birds. Up the scale
the notes ran with mournful persistence. When the answer came, the
scout at first thought that the imitation had lured a moth bird, for
the reply seemed to ripple right above their heads.
Sssuri stood up, and his hand dropped on Dalgard's shoulder, applying
pressure which was both a warning and a summons, bringing the scout to
his feet with as little noise as possible. The horrible smell caught
at his throat, and he was glad when the merman did not head inland
toward the source of that odor, but started off along the edge of the
cliff, one hand in Dalgard's to draw him along.
Twice more Sssuri paused to whistle, and each time he was answered by
a signing note or two which seemed to reassure him.
Against the lighter expanse which was the sea, Dalgard saw the loom of
a peak which projected above the general level of the island. Though
he knew that the merpeople did not build aboveground, being adept in
turning natural caves and crevices into the kind of living quarters
they found most satisfactory, the barrenness of this particular rock
top was forbidding.
Led by Sssuri, he threaded a tangled patch among outcrops,
once-squeezing through a gap which scraped the flesh on his arms as he
wriggled. Then the sky was blotted out, the last winking star
disappeared, and he realized that he must have entered a cave of
sorts, or was at least under an overhang.
The merman did not pause but padded on, tugging Dalgard along, the
scout's boots scraping on the rough footing. The colonist was
conscious now that they were on an incline, heading down into the
heart of the island. They came to a stretch where Sssuri set his hands
on holds, patiently shoved his feet into hollowed places, finding for
him the ladder steps he could not see, which took him through a
sweating, fearful journey of yards to another level, another sloping,
downward way.
Here at long last was a fraction of light, not the violet glimmer
which had illuminated the underground ways of those Others, but a
ghostly radiance which he recognized as the lamps of the
mermen--living creatures from the sea depths imprisoned in laboriously
fashioned globes of crystal and kept in the caves for the light they
yielded.
But still no mind touch! Never had Dalgard penetrated into the cave
cities of the sea folk before without inquiries and open welcome
lapping about him. Were they entering a place of massacre where no
living merman remained? Yet there was that whistling which had led
Sssuri to this place....
And at that moment a shrill keening note arose from the depths to ring
in Dalgard's ears, startling him so that he almost lost his footing.
Once again Sssuri made answer vocally--but no mind touch.
Then they rounded a curve, and the scout was able to see into the
heart of the amphibian territory. This was a natural cave, as were all
the merman's dwellings, but its walls had been smoothed and hung with
the garlands of shells which they wove in their leisure into strange
pictures. Silver-gray sand, smooth and dust-fine, covered the floor to
the depth of a foot or more. And opening off the main chamber were
small nooks, each marking the private storage place and holding of
some family clan. It was a large place, and with a quick estimate
Dalgard thought that it had been fashioned to harbor close to a
hundred inhabitants, at least the nooks suggested that many. But
gathered at the foot of the ledge they were descending, spears poised,
were perhaps ten males, some hardly past cubhood, others showing the
snowy shine of fur which was the badge of age. And behind them, drawn
knives in their ready hands, were half again as many merwomen, forming
a protecting wall before a crouching group of cubs.
Sssuri spoke to Dalgard. "Spread out your hands--empty--so that they
may see them clearly!"
The scout obeyed. In the limited light his ten fingers were fans, and
it was then that he understood the reason for such a move. If these
mermen had not seen a colonist before, he might resemble Those Others
in their eyes. But only his species on all Astra had five fingers,
five toes, and that physical evidence might insure his safety now.
"Why do you bring a destroyer among us? Or do you offer him for our
punishment, so that we can lay upon him the doom that his kind have
earned?"
The question came with arrow force, and Dalgard held out his hands,
hoping they would see the difference before one of those spears from
below tore through his flesh.
"Look upon the hands of this--my knife brother--look upon his face. He
is not of the race of those you hate, but rather one from the south.
Have you of the northern reaches not heard of Those-Who-Help,
Those-Who-Came-From-the-Stars?"
"We have heard." But there was no relaxing of tension, not a spear
point wavered.
"Look upon his hands," Sssuri insisted. "Come into his mind, for he
speaks with us so. And do _they_ do that?"
Dalgard tried to throw open his mind, awaiting the trial. It came
quickly, traces of inimical, alien thought, which changed as they
touched his mind, reading there only all the friendliness he and his
held for the sea people.
"He is not of _them_." The admission was grudging. As if they did not
want to believe that. "Why comes one from the south to this
place--now?"
There was an inflection to that "now" which was disturbing.
"After the manner of his people he seeks new things so that he may
return and report to his Elders. Then he will receive the spear of
manhood and be ready for the choosing of mates," Sssuri translated the
reason for Dalgard's quest into the terms of his own people. "He has
been my knife brother since we were cubs together, and so I journey
with him. But here in the north we have found evil--"
His flow of thought was submerged by a band of hate so red that its
impact upon the mind was almost a blow. Dalgard shook his head. He had
known that the merpeople, aroused, were deadly fighters, fearless and
crafty, and with a staying power beyond that of any human. But their
rage was something he had not met before.
"_They_ come once again--_they_ burn with the fire--_They_ are among
our islands--"
A cub whimpered and a merwoman stooped to pat it to silence.
"Here they have killed with the fire--"
They did not elaborate upon that statement, and Dalgard had no wish
for them to do so. He was still very glad that it had been dark when
he had climbed to the top of that cliff, that he had not been able to
see what his imagination told him lay there.
"Do _they_ stay?" That was Sssuri.
"Not so. In their sky traveler they go to the land where lies the dark
city. There they make much evil against the day when this shall be
their land once more."
"But these lie if they think that." Another strong thought broke
across the current of communication. "_We_ are not now penned for
their pleasure. We may flee into the sea once more, and there live as
did our fathers' fathers, and they dare not follow us there--"
"Who knows?" It was Sssuri who raised that objection. "With their
ancient knowledge once more theirs, even the depths of the sea may not
be ours much longer. Do they not know how to ride upon the air?"
The knot of mer-warriors stirred. Several spears thudded butt down
into the sand. And Sssuri accepted that as an invitation to descend,
summoning Dalgard after him with a beckoning finger.
Later they sat in a circle in the cushioning gray powder, the two from
the south eating dried fish and sea kelp, while Sssuri related,
between mouthfuls, their recent adventures.
"Three times have _they_ flown across these islands on their way to
that city," the Elder of the pitifully decimated merman tribe told the
explorers.
"But this time," broke in one of his companions, "they had with them a
new ship--"
"A new ship?" Sssuri pounced upon that scrap of information.
"Yes. The ships of the air in which _they_ travel are fashioned
so"--with his knife point he drew a circle in the sand--"but this one
was smaller and more in the likeness of a spear with a heavy
point--thus"--he made a second sketch beside the first, and Dalgard
and Sssuri leaned over to study it.
"That is unlike any of their ships that I have heard of," Sssuri
agreed. "Even in the old tales of the Days Before the Burning there is
nothing spoken of like that."
"It is true. Therefore we wait now for the coming of our scouts, who
were set in hiding upon _their_ sea rock of resting, that they may
tell us more concerning this new ship. They should be here within this
time of sleeping. Now, go you to rest, which you plainly have need of,
and we shall call you when they come."
Dalgard was willing enough to stretch out in the sand in the shadows
of the far end of the cave. Beyond him three cubs slumbered together,
their arms about each other, and a feeling of peace was there such as
he had not known since he left the stronghold of Homeport.
The weird glow of the imprisoned sea monsters gave light to the main
part of the cave, and it might still have been night when the scout
was shaken awake once more. A group of the merpeople were sitting
together, and their thoughts interrupted each other as their
excitement arose. Their spies must have returned.
Dalgard crossed to join that group, but it seemed to him that his
welcome was not unqualified, and that some of the openness of the
early hours of the night was lacking. He might have been once more
under suspicion.
"Knife brother"--to Dalgard's sensitive mind that form of address from
Sssuri was used for a special purpose: to underline the close bond
between them--"listen to the words of Sssim who is a Hider-to-Watch on
the island where _they_ rest their ships during the voyage from one
land to another." He drew Dalgard down beside him to face a young
merman who was staring round-eyed at the colony scout.
"He is like--yet unlike"--his first wisp of thought meant nothing to
the scout. "The strangers wear many coverings on their bodies as do
_they_, and they had also coverings upon their heads. They were
bigger. Also from their minds I learned that they are not of this
world--"
"Not of this world!" Dalgard burst out in his own speech.
"There!" The spy was triumphant. "So did they talk to one another, not
with the mind but by making mouth noises, different mouth noises from
those that _they_ make. Yes, they are like--but unlike this one."
"And these strangers flew the ship we have not seen before?"
"It is so. But they did not know the way and were guided by the globe.
And at least one among them was distrustful of _those_ and wished to
be free to return to his own place. He walked by the rocks near my
hiding place, and I read his thoughts. No, they were with _them_, but
they are not _them_!"
"And now they have gone on to the city?" Sssuri probed.
"It was the way their ship flew."
"Like me," Dalgard repeated, and then the truth which might lie behind
that exploded within his brain. "Terrans!" he breathed the word. Men
of Pax perhaps who had come to hunt down the outlaws who had
successfully eluded their rule on earth? But how had the colonists
been traced? And why? Or were they other fugitives like themselves? So
much, so very much of what the colonists should know of their past
had been erased during the time of the Great Sickness twenty years
after their landing. Then three fourths of the original immigrants had
died. Only the children of the second generation and a handful of
weakened Elders had remained. Knowledge was lost and some distorted by
failing memories, old skills were gone. But if the new Terrans were in
that city.... He had to know--to know and be able to warn his people.
For the darkness of Pax was a memory they had _not_ lost!
"I must see them," he said.
"That is true. And only you can tell us what manner of folk these
strangers be," the merman chief agreed. "Therefore you shall go ashore
with my warriors and look upon them--to tell us the truth. Also we
must learn what _they_ do here."
It was decided that using waterways known to the merpeople, one which
Dalgard could also take wearing the diving equipment, a scouting party
would head shoreward the next day, with the river itself providing the
entrance into the heart of the forbidden territory.
12