"Will Harry Starbuck please step forth and make his report?" One of
Keleher's assistants brought the command to the Shining Ones who had
joined the larger group near Hamilton Village.
There was a silence.
"Where is Starbuck?"
No one knew. The assistant shook his head and returned to Keleher for
further instructions. Had anyone seen Starbuck? A short while ago, yes.
Not for the past hour, though. Keleher next called for Diane, who had
found Johnny Hope, the alleged traitor, along with Starbuck.
Some of them had seen her marching toward the rear of the column with
Tom Burwood not long since. She did not answer the summons. And Burwood
could not be found anywhere.
"Is everyone going crazy?" Keleher stormed. "Fetch the prisoner
himself. We'll see what's going on."
Moments later: "Hope, charges have been brought against you concerning
our raid on Hamilton Village."
"I know all about the charges. I refuse to discuss them now."
Keleher smiled without mirth. "You--refuse?"
"They were looking for Diane. They couldn't find her. They were looking
for Starbuck too, and couldn't find him. It is Starbuck who has made
the accusation, so we'll have to wait until he's found. I don't care
one way or the other about Starbuck, but I want to find Diane."
Plump Gilbert came forward, said, "I may be able to shed some light on
this. After Starbuck gave me charge of the column he conferred with Tom
Burwood for a time, then disappeared. But Burwood whispered something
to Diane and she joined him, heading for the rear of the column."
"You see?" Johnny demanded. "Starbuck went someplace with Diane. From
the looks of it, she was tricked into going with him."
"Mere supposition," said Keleher, "although I wouldn't trust Starbuck
particularly."
"Listen," Johnny went on, "that girl saved my life. I want to find her.
Since you can't try my case until Starbuck is found, let me look for
them and--"
"How do we know you will return?"
"My word," said Johnny, but the look on Keleher's face said that would
never satisfy him.
"If the lad promises and if meanwhile he cannot be tried ..." began
Gilbert.
"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it," Keleher said curtly. "The
boy stays here."
"But he merely wants to find Diane," persisted Gilbert.
"Enough. If someone thinks to depose me, let him try. Meanwhile, I
command here. The boy stays. He will be considered innocent until
we can bring him to trial, but he will not be permitted to leave the
encampment."
"Her life may be in danger," Johnny said grimly.
"I doubt it. I have given my orders."
"They don't satisfy me," Johnny told Keleher bluntly. "Am I to be
regarded as prisoner or member of the community until my trial?"
"You are one of us, a Shining One, until proven guilty. It is the way
of our law."
"In that case," Johnny informed him, "I challenge your right to rule.
_I_ would depose you." Even as he spoke the words, Johnny doubted their
wisdom. Keleher was large and powerful; Johnny had recently recovered
from the Plague and did not feel fully himself. Still, he had to find
Diane, and if there was no other way....
Keleher was grinning. "Perhaps you do not know what that entails.
I'll admit, it's primitive. Upon your challenge we fight. Not with
weapons, Johnny Hope. With our bare hands. Call it a peculiarity of
mine, but I prefer brute strength. It is as if civilization, in closing
its book for mankind, has put men like me in its stead. The ballot,
the tribunal, the town meeting--all these are sophistications leading
ultimately back along the road to civilization. If that means another
war and a worse one, I want no part of it. Small communities, living by
mean strength, fighting for their existence tooth and nail, can't start
a civilization growing.
"The level I want to maintain is physical, brutal, elemental. Knowing
that, do you still challenge my right?" Keleher folded huge-muscled
arms across his massive chest and stared with scorn at Johnny. "Well?"
"I was aware of that. The answer is yes."
"Then we can start making arrangements for the time and place.
Would you prefer it on our journey before we reach a new permanent
encampment, or after we have arrived to set up camp? You still look
pale from your time with the Plague, my young friend."
"I prefer it right here," Johnny said. "I can't wait. Right here, and
right now."
The sudden complete silence was broken by Keleher's explosive laughter
as he unbuckled his weapon-belt and let it fall with knife and club to
the ground.
* * * * *
"What do you think, Diane?"
"Don't speak to me. I think it was a dirty trick, but I should have
expected it from you. And you let Tom Burwood die, too."
"I couldn't do anything about that," Starbuck protested. "I tried. By
the time I got through to them, Burwood was already dead. As it is, I
saved your life."
"For this?" Diane gestured around her scornfully, to take in the tiny
cubicle aboard the rocket which they occupied. After depositing them
within it ten minutes before, the Robots had ignored them.
"I'm surprised at you. Have some patience, Diane. Someday you'll be
grateful I took you along. You're young, you have no idea what life
could be like in a civilized place."
"Do you? How do you know how the Robots treat people?"
"I have heard rumors. We all have. But I'm older than I look. I was
a small boy before the war, Diane. But I remember, I remember. The
luxuries, the comforts. You'll see."
"I ought to kill you," Diane said coldly. Starbuck blanched. "I might,
too, first chance I get. You're so self-centered, you're almost
inhuman. But maybe I'm dumb enough to think you'll realize your mistake
someday and two of us will have a better chance of getting away than
one. I don't know. I ought to kill you, though."
"I did it for you. I wanted you with me. I couldn't enjoy the life
we're going to lead without you."
"You're a fool, Harry ... I can't even hate you. I feel sorry for you.
What do the Robots do from day to day? You don't even know that. You
haven't the slightest idea what you've let us in for. You don't even
know for sure where we're going."
Starbuck shook his head. "You're wrong about that. We're going to the
Citadel in New York. We should be arriving in a few minutes. You'll
change your mind, Diane. Wait until you see the Citadel. Wait until--"
"You've never seen it. You're just guessing."
"It's more than a guess. Every rumor I have ever heard. Diane, I want
you to share it with me, to learn to love it with me. You're beautiful.
You weren't meant for buckskins," Starbuck fingered the tattered
clothing barely covering her torso.
"Keep away from me."
"Don't you realize it's just the two of us now--and the Robots?"
"I'm warning you."
Starbuck shrugged and sat down at the other side of the small cubicle.
"You're frightened now," he said. "I've got patience, if you haven't.
Wait and see how the Robots will provide for us."
Diane shuddered and tried to hide it. Trapped aboard a ship full of
Robots, she was companion to a madman. Strangely, no thought could
comfort her but the image of Johnny Hope, somewhere many miles behind
them, a prisoner of Keleher and the band of Shining Ones. Perhaps, she
thought grimly, the madman had for company a madwoman....
* * * * *
The Shining Ones were bivouacing not two miles above the gutted ruins
of Hamilton Village. Wood had been stacked for the cook-fires, but as
yet no spark had been coaxed into flame. Half the tents had been raised
tautly about their ridge poles, others were still to be unpacked.
Five-hundred strong, the whole group gathered around a natural clearing
in the woods, where deft-fingered girls were applying grease to Keleher
and Johnny Hope.
They had stripped to shorts, Keleher with his thick-thewed limbs
glistening in the fading sunlight, arms folded like some immobile,
heroic statue, all muscle and sinew, carved from granite, Johnny
fidgeting, waiting for the fight to start. He was surprised at his own
objective lack of fear; he wanted only to start out after Diane.
"You probably wonder why they grease you," Amos Westler declared.
Westler was a small, slim man with close-cropped graying hair and eyes
that would twinkle, Johnny thought, even in darkness. He had come to
Johnny's corner as a sort of unexpected second, to ready him for
battle. "It's a concession on the part of Keleher, Johnny Hope. He has
declared openly your strength is no match for his. The slicking will
make speed and dexterity count for more."
"Am I supposed to be grateful? The only reason I'm fighting him is
because he won't let me seek Diane any other way. She could be in
danger right now, her life might be at stake. Keleher is a fool."
"And life among the Shining Ones has always been an expendable item.
Diane's life, your life, even Keleher's."
"What happens if I win?"
Westler sighed wistfully. "You won't. This won't be the first fight for
Keleher, nor the last. Actually, I hope you do win."
"Why? And you haven't answered my question."
"Because I've always wanted to leave the encampment. But I'm not a
man for the outdoors, Johnny. I wouldn't survive a week. With your
companionship, I might. Should you win the fight, and should you decide
to seek Diane, I would like to join you."
Johnny grasped his hand, shook it. "Done," he said.
Westler smiled, wiping grease on his trousers. "To answer your
question, if you win you're the chief of this encampment."
Now Johnny was smiling. "A job I'm not particularly interested in. I
only want to--"
"I know. Look for the girl. During the excitement, something went
entirely unnoticed. A rocket ship took off, near the ruins of the
Village. Rockets mean Robots--and from the Citadel. Tell me, Johnny
Hope, if the trail leads there, will you follow?"
Johnny shrugged. "I hadn't thought of that, I didn't realize the Robots
were near."
"Then you're going to back down?" Disappointment was in Westler's
expressive eyes.
"Never. I saw New York once. I stood on the Jersey cliffs at sunset and
gazed across the broad river at the Citadel with its winking lights and
beacons. It is not a place of fear, but a place that men built, long
ago. I will go."
Again Amos Westler sighed. "I wish you win this fight, Johnny Hope. I
never wished for anything as much in my life. I was a college professor
before the war and I learned this: the search for knowledge is a
strange thing and knows no fear. But I am no young man, and this may be
my last opportunity."
"Ready?" Keleher's voice roared across the clearing. "If the girls are
finished caressing you with their oils...?"
* * * * *
The girls stepped back, looked at Johnny, tall and lithe but so small
compared to Keleher, and shook their heads.
"Ready," Johnny said, moving out toward Keleher warily.
"His legs," Amos Westler confided. "He uses them like another pair of
arms. Watch them."
The grease on his face had been applied too close to his eyes and
Johnny found he had to blink to clear his vision. Keleher came
lumbering across the clearing, gathering momentum. By the time he
neared Johnny he was fairly rocketing down upon him. The muttering
of the assembled encampment had been stilled as if by some unspoken
command. There was the sound of Keleher's thundering feet and nothing
else.
Juggernaut thundered close, was almost upon him, great arms
outstretched, huge body shining red in the last light of the sun. At
the last moment, Johnny sidestepped, thrust out his leg, added momentum
to Keleher with his arms as he pounded by. Something struck his leg,
there was a loud, bull-bellowing cry. Keleher flipped completely over
and sprawled in the dust a dozen feet away.
He came up roaring his rage as Johnny waited, balancing on the balls
of his feet, fists up and ready. Keleher parried Johnny's left hand
when the blow was too long in coming, struck with his own great right
fist. Johnny went over on his back and felt Keleher at his throat
almost before he had hit the ground. Now the crowd was churning with
excitement and Johnny found himself thinking they must have smelled
blood on the air.
Their heavily greased bodies prevented Keleher from applying a
stranglehold. Johnny squirmed out from under, straddled the bigger
man's back and felt himself borne aloft, still clinging there, as
Keleher climbed to his feet and charged about the clearing. Johnny held
grimly, his forearm circling the thick throat, choking off Keleher's
breath. But the shaggy head twisted, broke free. The legs drummed
backwards and Johnny whirled in time to fathom Keleher's plan.
He was going to crush Johnny against the bole of an oak tree, cracking
his ribs and ending the battle at once. Without mirth, Johnny smiled.
So intent was Keleher upon his plan, he did not bother to hold Johnny
on his back. Possibly he thought that was Johnny's intention, anyway.
Johnny leaped away, rolling clear, as Keleher backed into the tree
trunk with all the strength of his huge muscles.
There was a terrible crunching sound as Keleher hit the tree and went
down as if axed. Groggily, he began to rise, but Johnny was waiting for
him, waiting to see if there was any fight left in the half-conscious
man. The eyes were watery, the lips slack, the arms twitching. Johnny
waited....
"Stop!" someone cried. "I bring news."
At first the encampment shouted him off, but presently Johnny became
aware of loud talking, of angry shouts, of a buzzing, as from a
sundered hornets' nest, which swept the clearing. He whirled to face
the newcomer as Keleher slumped at his feet, clawing the ground and
gasping, "I don't ... surrender ... Johnny Hope. Only give ... me ...
time to catch my wind ... and...."
* * * * *
They turned to Johnny Hope, all of them, their new leader. For Keleher
had spoken those words, then fell forward on his face. Three men
carried him off to a tent, where two women brought vessels of water.
"They went looking for the three missing ones, Hope."
"What can we do?"
"The Robots."
"Tell us, Hope."
"What they did once they might do again."
Johnny laughed as reaction from his ordeal set in. They crowded around
him, flies swarming for honey. They hadn't given him a chance in the
fight, but now because Keleher had cracked his own ribs instead of
Johnny's, Johnny was their leader. It was a job he neither wanted nor
would tolerate.
"What they're trying to say," Amos Westler told him, "is that they
found Tom Burwood not far from here."
"What about Diane?" Johnny demanded eagerly.
"No Diane, no Starbuck. They found Burwood, hanging by his neck, dead."
"Dead?" Johnny said, dazed. "Diane?"
"You're not listening to me, young man. Diane they didn't find." Then,
as if he suddenly realized he was addressing their new, if bewildered,
leader, Westler apologized. "I'm sorry. While Burwood's corpse was the
only one they found, there were shreds of clothing in the undergrowth.
There--"
"Diane?"
"Possibly, they're not sure. I would say all indications point to the
Robot Citadel. You said you would go, but now that you are our leader,
perhaps you've changed your mind. When leadership is thrust upon a
man--"
"When an old leader is vanquished," plump Gilbert bubbled effusively,
"there is a celebration, sir. And there is an edict to be handed down
by the new leader. Do we banish Keleher from the encampment when his
condition permits? Do we slay him for you? Do we--"
"Do whatever you want," Johnny said irritably. "I'm not staying."
"This is some joke!"
"I have nothing against Keleher. I still have nothing against him. I'm
leaving. When Keleher regains consciousness, when his body heals, you
may tell him for me I did not depose him. He is still your leader."
"That is clearly impossible."
"Is it? I command you in this. Keleher remains on as chief. But tell
him this for me: some day I may call upon him and his people for help,
and when I do...."
"You have vision," said Amos Westler, admiration in his voice.
"When I do, I want no delays. That is my message to your ruler, to
Keleher. Is it understood?"
Gilbert and some of the others nodded. A small, intense man, Westler
fidgeted about impatiently while the girls returned with thick strips
of cloth and scrubbed the grease from Johnny Hope.
"I'm now a celebrity," he said to Westler, feeling himself briefly as
one with these wild people as they gathered around for his advice,
preparing a victory banquet over roaring fires as darkness covered the
bivouac area. He munched a savory leg of fowl, slaked his thirst from a
moist leather wine bag, the claret stream gushing into his mouth from
the spout.
"You see," Westler could not hide his disappointment. "It is even as I
said. You will stay."
Johnny grinned at him. "Are you tired?"
"Why, no."
Tossing a chicken bone into the fire, Johnny went on: "And do you know
the way to New York in the darkness?"
"No--o."
"I think I do. Are you ready to start?"
"Are you serious?" Westler cried. "Do you mean that, Johnny Hope?"
"Let's go." And not waiting for an answer, Johnny clapped Gilbert on
the back, told him to take charge until Keleher had recovered, and left
the clearing with Westler trailing at his heels.
The night closed in about them, not quiet, but alive with the sounds of
insects and the occasional soft-pad-padding of small hunting animals.
Johnny set a quick, mile-eating pace which made Westler's breath wheeze
in and out of his lungs asthmatically, but the older man did not
complain once.