Theta fully intended to follow him, but she found she could not move.
It was as if she was tied to the chair. The more practical of the two,
she knew that the men he was facing would refuse to face the facts. All
he was doing was placing himself in their hands. And that meant death!
The elders peered in his direction as he gained the aisle. Ole twisted
about in his seat and was the first one to recognize him. For a moment
he stared open-mouthed.
"It's Henry Callis!" he cried out. "He's proscribed for learning
witchery! Grab him!"
Henry stopped before him. Ole's words became a gurgle and dried up.
"If I'm a witch," Henry said loudly, "I'm a good person to keep away
from. Whether I am or not, I have something important to tell you. And
all of you had better listen!"
He started again for the platform, those along the aisle shrinking back
as he passed. The Elders, from fat to withered, with the same uneasy
expressions on their faces, watched silently as he climbed to the stage
and faced them. He could feel their chill hostility. He knew now that
he had done wrong but it was too late to undo it. He stopped a short
distance from their table, half turned so the audience could hear him.
* * * * *
"I have been living in the houses of the Old Ones at the head of the
valley, beyond the defrosters and the forest above them. And I also
have been up to the top of the East Range, expecting to look over the
edge of the world. But what I saw was another valley just like this
one. It had a force fence, defrosters, hoppers, houses. Everything this
valley has, except for one thing: living inhabitants. There were people
in the houses. Dead people. Reduced to bones, the bones of people who
had died from hunger and cold when everything in their valley suddenly
ceased to work.
"That is what sent me to the House of the Old Ones, to see if I could
find out what had happened. I found out there that the Old Ones were
not giants who did things with magic, but people like ourselves who
used machinery to make things. Just as we make clothing with machinery
here in Town. They had machines that could fly through the air. They
could go the length of the valley in an hour in a road machine. With
machines they built these buildings, dug the trenches for the hoppers,
did everything. They were just men. Men who had studied in the learning
houses from the time they were tiny children. And I found out more...."
He stopped to take a quick look about the still hall. He felt the
hostility.
"And I found out more," he repeated. "I found that, in this valley,
twenty banks of defrosters have already failed. Eleven houses cannot
be used, plus two taverns and one factory here in town. It shows that
our own system is breaking down. Some day--perhaps tomorrow, perhaps
not until the time of our grandchildren--everything will stop as it
did in the next valley. If we want to keep living, we must start to
learn how to keep these machines running. At the House of the Old Ones
there is a vast store of parts and visigraph records showing how it
should be done. I ask you all to come up and see the record they have
there of building the things in the valley! See the machine that keeps
everything running. Then let me have a band of youths to start studying
the records until we find out how to keep things running."
There was silence after he finished. The Elders eyed him, uneasy,
suspicious.
From the seats of the hall came Ole's voice.
"Don't believe him!" he shouted. "He wants to get us up there so he can
bewitch us--like he did Theta! Take him out and stone him!"
Someone on the other side of the hall echoed the cry. In a moment it
seemed that everyone was roaring it, rising in their seats, shaking
fists. The Senior Elder motioned to the Hallmaster. He stepped forward
with two husky assistants who grabbed Henry.
"Put him in the strong room," quavered the Senior Elder. "Keep him
there until the day for punishment."
Roughly Henry was pushed around, led out a rear door to the stage. The
day of punishment! Three nights and two days to live!
* * * * *
He awoke the morning of the third night feeling cold. He opened his
eyes to find himself in total darkness.
For a moment he thought himself free, hiding out in some deserted
building, that all that had happened lately was a dream. But from
outside he heard a panicky voice crying that the lights in his
apartment were out and it was getting cold.
It had happened! Far sooner than he expected, it had happened!
But what would Theta do? She had gotten away, he was sure, as no one
mentioned her. Theta, that was it! She had gone to the plant, pushed
the button, condemning herself and all the others to death! But that
was not like Theta. She was too clever....
That was it! Why hadn't he thought of it! It was a message, a
challenge, a tool which he could use to free himself--get them to help
him!
More relaxed, he lay back. Dawn was already showing up over the ridge.
More people would be getting up, more people rushing out into the
streets in panic. They would remember him, come to his cell imploring
him to do something. He would demand what he wanted. They could
comply--or face disaster.
What should he demand?
Someone came down the street shouting for the Senior Elder. The volume
of excited voices increased with each minute: voices demanding to know
why there was no light, no heat, no water. Asking each other if they
had them. Hysteria mounting each minute.
Perhaps it would be a time before they thought of him, but they would
be before him before the day was over.
"It's that witch in the strong room!" bellowed Ole's voice outside. "He
did it by magic! Kill him before he strikes us all dead!"
The cry was taken up, "The witch, kill the witch! He did it! He is
right in there, kill him!"
Cold terror seized Henry.
Theta's scheme was backfiring! There would be no reasoning with a
superstitious, hysterical mob! Well, at least it hurried things up by a
few hours. More composed, he came to his feet as they burst through the
back door of the Hall and stampeded towards the door to the cell.
He even smiled slightly. If they thought him a witch....
The key was in the lock. They had no difficulty getting in. He stood in
the center of the room, the slight smile still on his lips.
He raised his forearm to a horizontal position, pointed his index
finger in their direction.
"Who wants to die first?" he cried above the noise they made.
The onrush into the cell stopped abruptly, those in front pushing back
against those behind them. They followed his finger with fascinated
eyes as he fanned it across the group of them. He stopped, his finger
pointing to a fat, applecheeked grovemaster. The man shrieked, turned
about and began fighting his way back into the corridor.
One man was tripped up and fell. There was a wild shriek of terror. Men
shouted that he was killing the leaders by magic. To Henry it seemed
only an instant before the passageway was back in its usual silence. He
stepped out of his cell. He could see a mass of people about the street
door surrounding the panicked men. The passage in the other direction
seemed empty.
He turned that way, passed onto the rear of the stage, felt his way
across it in the darkness to the steps and down into the aisle. Calmly
and without haste he passed through the front doors into the next
street and walked, unrecognized in the half light and excitement, out
of town.
* * * * *
It was dark when he arrived in the upper valley.
Theta was sitting at a table. She sprang up and rushed into his arms
with a glad cry.
"It worked! They let you go?"