A light snow fell from the silent soft grayness of the sky. Sylviana
stood on the parapet with the fur wrapped around her, immersed in a
feeling of peace and attachment to her world such as she had seldom
experienced. She watched Kalus on the ledge below, unaware of her eyes,
studying the high entrance to the Mantis' cave and pacing
uncertainly. At first, as it often did, her mind questioned his mood.
How could he not still feel the warmth and purposeful beauty of their
love-making, the gentle gifts that Nature was bestowing on them even
now?
But as she continued to watch him, a feeling of contented understanding
had so overwhelmed her doubts as to make them appear small and mean, a
source of reproach and beneath further consideration.
For here, she then expounded, was a creature untainted by civilization
or corrupt society, his roots in the earth, his feet sometimes painfully
touching the ground beneath him, free (indeed unable to do otherwise) to
react naturally and honestly, like a graceful and intelligent animal, to
the world and circumstances around him. Therefore, her thoughts
continued, his hopes, fears and yearnings were a direct outgrowth of
that world. His morals, free from religious preconceptions, were
dictated to him solely and directly by the needs of Nature.
Her last thought came to her as a culmination, almost an orgasm, of all
the others that had come before it, tying them together and giving them
still greater meaning and significance. Her lover lived, the more so
because he did not know it, the deepest and purest human existence: that
of spiritual yearning, and animal desire.
She pulled the soft fur tighter, massaged one arm with the other, and
looked out across the plains. The snow had all but stopped, and far out
over the western hills her eyes caught movement against the clouds. It
might have been an eagle but for the unnatural, straight ahead motion of
its flight..... Her heart sank. Slowly but steadily the flying shape
drew on, till there could be no doubt. Dejectedly, she called down to
her companion.
'Kalus.' His head jerked towards her. 'You'd better come up
here.' He turned a quick half circle and drew his sword as if
expecting danger. Finding none, he looked up at her with a questioning
gaze. Her arm pointed out over the grass- and tree-pocked drifts of the
savanna. Seeing what she saw, but not appearing to, he sheathed his
sword and began to climb. Not until far past the halfway point did he
look up from the stone in front of him. Misunderstanding, she pointed
again.
'Put down your arm,' he said in guarded tones. Soon he stood on
the parapet beside her, and only then looked out at the lowering sky.
The girl spoke.
'It's Skither.'
'No. It's not.'
'Then who?' He shook his head.
Soon she too could see that it was not the mantis they had known. It
was smaller, and flew with greater speed but less grace. Also, the feel
of it was different. It was very close now, perhaps a mile off, and
though it struggled in a growing tail-wind, its wing-plates ruffling
badly, it seemed determined not to rest until it had reached the
mountain, where clearly now it was heading. Finally it crossed the
gorge and landed roughly on the ledge, its brownish-green armor looking
unnatural against the stone and snow. Kalus, whose tracks showed
plainly about the entrance, set his jaw and said nothing. Akar limped
out of the enclosure and stood between them, studying the young mantis.
It remained motionless, head down and breath coming hard, oblivious to
anything but its own fatigue. Finally raising its head, it studied the
tracks briefly, then turned towards the three of them with no outward
sign of surprise. At length it raised an unsteady foreclaw and signaled
someone, apparently Kalus, to come down. Through her confusion and
alarm, Sylviana suddenly noticed that its other forelimb was severed
just below the first joint. One of its antennae was also missing, and
it seemed to stand only with an effort.
Kalus took a step forward but was stopped by Akar, who took his wrist
gently but firmly between his jaws. Kalus relented, and let the wolf
pass instead. Akar made his way to the path, and taxing the wounded
shoulder only at greatest need, began to descend. But in an angry
rocking motion that clearly showed its displeasure, the mantis waved him
off. It raised the intact foreclaw once more, this time pointing
undeniably at Kalus. He turned to the girl.
'I don't know what this means. But he will not kill me like this.
It is not their way.' He gave his head a severe shake, and made his
way down the slope.
Stepping out onto the ledge as he had once done before Skither, Kalus
felt less awe but greater danger. Not yet an adult, the creature before
him was a mystery. And young and hurt and exhausted, there was no way
of knowing..... Stopping at a distance, Kalus began to signal a
greeting.
Brushing off his half understood formalities, the mantis came straight
to the point. 'I am only a messenger,' he began, 'Sent by
others to relay this news. Skither is dead, killed by a mating pair as
he tried to draw them out to the place where others stood waiting.'
Kalus' heart sank, as if a part of himself had died as well. He
hardly noted what followed, and only much later was able to piece it all
together in his mind.
The seasonal battle in the desert spawning place had been fierce and
desperate. Apparently Skither had half expected such an end, for he
left word with his comrades of the man-child and his mate, leaving these
instructions for them:
'The cave is now yours, along with everything in it. This, my
messenger, will remain here until he is well enough to move on. Be of
good hope, and continue.'
But Kalus stood in empty disbelief. He could not believe, for all that
he held to be strong and unchanging had been suddenly, irrevocably cut
out from under him. Skither had been more than a symbol to him, he had
been a living god---strength and courage and wisdom personified. If he
in all his prowess could be broken, then what chance did he himself have
against the ceaseless ravages of his world? The question was too much
for him.
In all his days he would see only two more of the noble creatures.
Their time on earth running out, it was perhaps a small comfort to know
that the reign of their enemies was also passing. A thousand years of
radiation and unlimited carrion had raised the tarantula to its huge
proportions. But now, like the mantis, who had grown of Nature's
necessity alongside it, the giant spiders were an archaic and dying
race. And though each year the gathering was larger---as if some last
instinct called all in desperation to the place of spawning---each time
the number of eggs left untouched (by the mammals which had come to prey
on them) was smaller. And without the ensuing cannibalism among the
hatchlings---out of which several hundred would be reduced to perhaps a
dozen---those that survived were more feeble, easier for both the
mantises and natural attrition to kill. An era born of the violence of
men was slowly passing.
Kalus turned without ceremony or awareness and made his way back to the
path. He climbed without feeling, or knowing where he was, and heard a
voice inside him say it was all right, he still had the woman.
Then all at once he felt the fullness of what he had learned, and knelt
down and leaned forward against the cold indifferent stone. His arm
gave his eyes no comfort.
Skither was dead.
Sylviana watched him with apprehension. She had felt an unreasoning
terror as he stood before the wounded insect; but now a fear more akin
to reality, and therefore duller and deeper, presented itself. She
could not know what was said to him, but she knew him well enough to
understand at least a part of what he was feeling. Some grim news (or
threat) had been passed on to him; and because he had been weak, because
he had surrendered to emotion, because he had made love, he was being
punished, and blamed himself. Such were the scars that his life had
left upon him.
When at length he looked up at her, she knew that her fears had been
realized. The closeness and love that had been in his eyes so few hours
before, were gone. All feeling had left him, and he was again trapped
in the world he did not understand.
His guiding star was gone.