TEN

It was hard for Loring to realize that they had reached the building so

fast, harder still to accept the fact that they were almost inside of

it. The high portals arched above them, glimmering in the radiance, and

their shadows were flickering on both sides of the entrance-way before

he remembered that he had at first decided it would be wiser to bypass

the structure--to circle around it and keep on fleeing.

Fortunately he had looked back and changed his decision without

conscious deliberation, so instinctively that the wisdom of it did not

dawn on him until he was less than forty feet from the base of the

building. The quick, backward glance had shown him the pursuing insect

clearly, etched sharply against the glow, and its terrifying nearness

had made him change his mind almost automatically, with a nightmarelike

absence of any clear-cut reasoning process.

Only now did he realize that the human mind cannot think or will

anything, dreaming or awake, in a completely purposeless way. And he

had certainly not been dreaming. The creature was so near, so close on

their heels, that they could not hope to outdistance it by running.

The building, then, was their only refuge. Into an imprisoning darkness

again, but darkness was better than a hopeless attempt to escape

pursuit in the open.

Darkness? How could they be sure? This building might be lighted, as

bright within as without. And what could be worse, if you were trapped,

with all escape cut off, than a blinding burst of illumination?

It could be far worse than any darkness. You staggered and fell, and

the light burned through your eyelids into your brain, no matter how

tight you tried to shut your eyes.

And through the radiance, through the burning glare that could not

be shut out, you saw it coming toward you, its wings thrumming as it

closed in with clashing mandibles, while the light turned red around it.

No, no--those were not his thoughts! He straightened and looked at

Janice and was glad that she was not being tortured as he was. She was

moving ahead of him now, very swiftly, but there was no wavering in her

steps, nothing to indicate that a direct attack was being made on her

mind.

For some reason they were attacking him only. And almost unendurable as

the torment was he could still recognize it as a mental distortion, a

coldly merciless assault on his sanity.

He forced himself to resist panic, to remember that darkness was

worse than brightness. It was always worse, because in total darkness

unconscious fears, hidden and instinctive fears, became monstrous.

Darkness was the natural breeding ground for such fears; light, no

matter how blinding, an aid in dispelling them. Man's remote ancestors

had lived in dread of the coming of night, had huddled together in the

darkness of the forest, in the depths of caves, fearing that another

dawn would never come for them, knowing how sinister the night could be.

Night fears, hideous and distorted, haunted the dreams of every normal

child. It haunted the dreams of savages, and cavemen far back in the

Ice Age had crouched around rude fires, fearing an attack from shapes

of the night both imagined and real. Cave bears, lions and tigers,

invisible demons, the ghosts of the dead. It was darkness they feared,

not light. Light, fire, and the dawn were all protections.

The light widened and the pillars on both sides of the building's

entrance-way dwindled and fell away. A vast interior swept into view.

All about them enormous shadow-shapes loomed, beneath a ceiling so high

that it had the depth-beyond-depth look of a stretch of open sky.

The ceiling was ablaze with light and the floor threw back the

brightness in concentric circles of shimmering radiance, so that they

seemed to be looking at the shadow-shapes through a wavering prism that

half blinded them. Then, gradually, their eyes adjusted to the glare

and they saw the shapes clearly.

They were no longer shadow-shapes. They were articulated animal

skeletons, so large that they would have dwarfed the largest of

terrestrial dinosaurs. No Brontosaurus floundering through a Cretaceous

swamp in the Age of Reptiles on Earth, no Triceratops or Trachodon

had ever loomed so gigantic in Earth's primeval past. But in general

aspect the skeletons were unmistakably reptilian, some with shrunken

forelimbs, rearing postures and massive skulls armed with sharp teeth,

others armor-plated and horned, with bony spikes projecting from their

spines, long, angular skulls and short legs of uniform length.

There were three winged skeletons, flying monsters much larger than the

horned monsters and a tortoise-like creature eighty or ninety feet in

length. At its side stood one of its newly hatched young, with remnants

of fossilized flesh still clinging to the splintered egg from which the

far from tiny creature had emerged at some remote period in geologic

time. The egg was also fossilized and so massive that it would have

taken the combined strength of two men to lift it.

For an instant the sheer wonder of it drove all thought of danger

from Loring's mind. He forgot where he was and was aware only of that

long vista of gigantic skeletons stretching away into brightness.

The exhibit dazzled and awed him, made him feel inconsequential, of

no importance, a stunned human interloper on a drama of stupendous

dimensions. For an instant nothing mattered except the almost hypnotic

fascination which Nature imparts to everything colossal in scope and

formidable in design.

Janice's voice broke the spell. "David, what are they? They're moving!

They must be alive!"

Loring gripped her firmly by the arm and drew her close to him.

"No. It's just the light which makes them waver like that. We're

looking at them through a shifting film of radiance. Can't you see?

They're only skeletons. No flesh on the bones, no animation, nothing to

become alarmed about. They must be gigantic extinct reptiles native to

this world. This building is probably a museum."

Janice made no reply. She was staring wordlessly now, standing very

still, as if something had started screaming inside of her and she was

doing her best to subdue it.

"Size again," Loring said, making no effort to conceal his bewilderment

but keeping his voice level. "A gigantic insect and now prehistoric

reptiles much larger than you'd expect to find on a planet of this

size. But it may have no particular significance. Animal life here may

differ in size just as it does on Earth, over a wide range of species.

Some of the animals native to this planet may be quite small."

Janice found her voice then. "Some of the living animals may be small.

But how do you know these aren't the skeletons of living animals?

Reptiles like these may be roaming the planet today. How do you know

they're extinct? How can you be sure?"

Loring's voice did not change. He still spoke calmly, staring into the

brightness, his eyes narrowed a little. "The bones look fossilized,

eroded with age. That gravel-pit look could be counterfeited easily

enough, but it would be difficult to erase in a genuine fossil."

"Then you think--"

"I think they may want us to believe that there are forests and swamps

here with reptiles like that at large in them. If this is a museum our

taking refuge in it would suit their purpose very well. The building

could hardly have been moved here for that purpose, as part of their

plan. It just happened to be here, in our line of flight, and they're

taking full advantage of it. You don't always need to rig an advantage

in a deadly game of skill and cunning. Chance, blind luck, may

sometimes provide a loaded, dangerously destructive pawn."

He nodded, conviction strong in his voice. "The pawn's loaded and

they're making it more destructive by a deliberate assault on our

minds. They're hoping these skeletons will slow us up, demoralize us

just enough to make us easy victims when that insect comes in here

after us. If it's following our scent, it won't waste any time."

Janice shuddered and looked at him, fear rising in her eyes again. "But

we'll be at its mercy anyway. How can we get out? We couldn't be more

hopelessly trapped."

"There may be another entrance. We've got to look for it. We've got to

keep moving."

Janice made no reply. She had turned and was staring back at the

shadowed columns just inside the entrance through which they had

passed. Something huge and long-legged was emerging into the hall, its

bulk blending with the shadows, and making it seem even larger than it

actually was.

For an instant it hovered just inside the entrance-way, swaying

hideously back and forth, a shape of nightmare horror with many-faceted

eyes, its bloated scarlet abdomen half-raised, its rapier-sharp stinger

darting in and out.

Then it was advancing toward them, slowly at first and then more

rapidly, with a violent quivering of its entire bulk. Loring looked

around him in search of a weapon, but saw nothing that he could clasp

and hurl. The bones of the skeleton reptiles were embedded in mountings

and were too massive to dislodge. No weapon-shaped fragment could be

chipped from them without making use of a knife or saw, and there were

no cutting instruments in the vast hall. He had thought for an instant

there might be paleontological tools left scattered about. But it was

an insane thought and he put it quickly from him.

Vain hopes now could be dangerous, could result in a lessening of his

alertness, a lowering of his guard. He was unarmed and defenseless,

completely at the swift-moving creature's mercy. He only knew that it

had to be stopped. It could not be allowed to attack and destroy him

first and be free to turn about and attack Janice, sinking its cruel

stinger deep in her flesh.

She saw it coming, and screamed in utter panic. It had bypassed Loring

and was darting straight toward her, as if a female of the human

species had aroused in it some instinctive awareness of how much better

nourishment a more rounded, full-fleshed body would provide for its

grubs.

It was instinct solely which prompted Loring to strip himself naked

at that instant. Not to convince the fly that his own body was in any

way comparable as a source of nourishment, but solely to protect the

woman he loved. He needed a weapon. And the strange, sash-like garment

which engirdled his loins was a weapon of a sort. It was not a weapon

which could save them for long. But if he used it as a net, hurling it

directly at the fly and entangling the creature in its folds--

The fly was almost upon Janice when the skillfully flung garment

swirled above it, descended upon its head and wrapped itself around the

rearing insect's upraised forelegs.

Loring had not completely let go of the garment, and he jerked back

on it relentlessly, so that it became both a net and a strangling

whipcord. It cut cruelly into the fly's substance and tightened in a

quite terrible way.

Suddenly Loring saw that the fly had no head. Its head was in a fold

of the garment, an enshrouded and bulging horror, still squirming, the

huge compound eyes visible through the almost transparent cloth. The

completely decapitated body was sinking jerkily to the floor.

He was still gripping the end of the garment, but he flung it from him

suddenly with a shudder of revulsion, and turned.

Janice had slumped to the floor in a dead faint.

* * * * *

"Wake up," a cold voice said. "It is over now. You have won your

struggle and are in a garden of delight."

There was a drowsy hum in Loring's ears, as of bees in a woodland

glade. Not the hum of long-bodied hornets, cruel and rapacious, but the

gentler hum of golden, honey-seeking bumblebees. And bumblebees did not

sting if you did not anger them. They did not paralyze their victims to

provide food for their grubs.

He awoke to an awareness of sunlight and shadow, garlanded bowers,

grassy slopes and the gleaming bright waters of a stream. He blinked

sleep from his eyes and rose to a sitting position.

He saw the women by the stream first, bare to the waist, their ivory

breasts dew-bright in the dawn glow, their hips voluptuously curved.

Some of the women were bending above the stream, filling long-necked,

delicately-fashioned urns with water. Others were bathing in the stream

and had removed their garments completely.

Then, quite suddenly, Loring realized that there was no need for him to

watch the women bathing. Or even the women who were bending with such

tantalizingly sensual grace on the banks of the stream.

There were women much closer to him, attired in the same way or wearing

no clothes at all. One of them was embracing him now, her arms creeping

up under his....

He remembered the strange garment that had been placed upon him before

an earlier awakening and how he had flung it from him. And he realized

now that he was not encumbered by a garment of any sort.

He had felt a little embarrassed before, to be even lightly clad in

Janice's presence. But he experienced no such embarrassment now. The

woman closest to him was whispering soft words in his ear.

"You were very brave. You did not flinch or draw back when the hornet

attacked. I adore men who are very strong, as you are, and completely

sure of themselves. What a lover you will make! I have claimed you

first and the others can wait. There is no need for them to grow

impatient. No one woman could hope to exhaust the capacity for love of

a man like you. There will be enough love for all. But I have claimed

you first and you I shall have. Now. Kiss me, lover! Hold me close!"

She moved in his arms, and it seemed to him that he was clasping not

one woman, but a hundred, each different in her knowledge of the

dedicatory arts that can be learned only at Eros' shrine, but each a

woman passionate and responsive and by the same token eternally the

same.

One woman blending with many, her loveliness dissolving and reforming,

but her ardor remaining constant, a living flame.

He heard himself whispering: "I am more human than you seem to believe.

The struggle was almost too much for me. Without the solace of love I

would not have had the strength to endure."

"You have that solace now," she whispered. "Kiss me, lover. And do

not be a fool. All men are little boys at heart. At least, there is a

little boy in them, buried deep in their nature--the little boy they

once were. In moments of stress and torment that little boy lives

again. It does not make them less manly, less sure of themselves when

they desire a woman as you now desire me. Make love to me."

It was no longer in Loring's power to resist or to care how completely

he abandoned himself to the woman in his arms. His desire, in fact, had

already surpassed hers and he could find no fault with her ardor.

It came to him then that this was a real woman. The passion of her had

stirred him as he had never been stirred before. He was in a whirlpool

of passion. His lips were on her breasts that had swollen with desire;

warm, soft, round, dazzling, spheres made for man's pleasure.

Caressing them, he remembered as if from some pre-existence that

man's first desire was for woman's breasts, to draw the sweet milk of

motherhood. The breasts burgeoning under him now, were incomparable.

Her body, that had been virginal a moment before, was moving in

frenetic appeal. The heat of her passion was burning him. Heavens, he

thought in sudden panic, supposing she gets pregnant? Gosh what will

I do, siring a child by this creature? It's a sin. I've got to stop.

He tried to withdraw, but it was too late. The seed of his loins was

already fighting its way into her quivering body.

She knew what had happened. "Wonderful, wonderful," she cried

stiffening her entire body in physical ecstacy. "My beautiful brilliant

man." Then, with a little moan that was half pain and half pleasure,

she went limp in his arms. Their mating was complete. Loring lay dazed

and exhausted.

It was at that moment that he heard Janice scream. It seemed to him

that a white-hot shaft of dread went through him before a coldness

fastened on his heart, and he began to tremble violently. He thrust the

woman in his arms almost brutally from him, and struggled to rise. It

was a struggle, because the arms of other women had instantly entwined

themselves about his arms and shoulders and even about his legs. It

was as if they had mistaken his blind, fear-inspired brutality for

rejection of one woman in favor of many, and thought of the many as

themselves.

He thrust their arms aside, forced them to release him by smiting them

cheek and thigh. He did it unconsciously, thinking only of Janice

and what the scream might mean. But they seemed to take the blows as

compliments and murmured: "What a lover! What a man!"

He saw her then--saw her above the straining white arms and

tumultuously heaving breasts of women who seemed suddenly Medusa-like,

the shadowy Gorgons of some monstrous dream.

She was struggling in the arms of a man who seemed in all respects the

exact opposite of a brute. He had the body of an Athenian athlete in

the days of Grecian splendor and his head was aureoled in gold. He was

young and lithe-limbed and the band of gold which encircled his light

blond hair, worn long, above the classic manliness of his features,

glittered in the sunlight, giving him an almost Apollo-like aspect as

he stood by the stream. Apollo, the Sun god.

Damn him to hell, Loring thought.

He knew nothing about how a woman would feel but from his knowledge of

women he could hardly doubt or question the man's undisputed right to

consider himself literally brimming over with male sex appeal. He was

the kind of man it was hard to imagine any woman resisting for long and

yet Janice was struggling violently in his arms!

Loring had freed himself completely now and he lost no time in reaching

the man's side. Greek athlete or not, the man had no chance at all and

he seemed to realize it the instant he looked into Loring's eyes.

He released Janice and started to move backwards, away from Loring. But

Loring did not let him retreat far. He dropped the repulsed Apollo to

the ground with a savage right to the jaw.