“Nona,” I said, “do you wish to go to this merry-making? . . . Caan,
should I take her?”
It was two days after the attempted assassination of the King. I had not
yet seen the cavern where the King was preparing for war. I was going
there after this next time of sleep.
We in Rax—the King, Atar, Caan and I—were much perturbed at the turn
affairs were taking We knew now that Og’s emissaries were among us. But
they kept themselves hidden—talking secretly to the half-breeds, to all
who sympathized with the Maagogs.
We knew all this; but we could do nothing about it. There was no police
force, or army, or anything of the kind in this crude Marinoid
civilization. Soon the King would organize an army—we were planning to
do that almost at once—as soon as the final preparations in the cavern
were complete. And meanwhile the King wished to do nothing that might
precipitate further trouble with the half-breeds. An internal revolt, on
the ere of foreign warfare—that was what we most dreaded.
It was at this juncture that some of the King’s councillors suggested a
public celebration, such as was always held at the birth of a child to
the royal family, or on other festive national occasions.
A celebration! When we were at the brink of war! To me, it was a
mistake. It could do nothing but humiliate—antagonize—the half-breeds.
They could not take open part in it; the Marinoids would not permit
that. Yet, said the King, we had our own people to think of. There is a
certain human quality of mind which turns to merry-making on the eve of
danger. You on Earth have seen that in your own history. The Marinoid
morale would be helped. To laugh, sing, shout, and make love—and then
go to battle. That was what the people wished; and against my advice,
the celebration was to be held.
Now, in Caan’s house—where Boy was asleep with Caan’s children—we were
planning to go to the cube of water before the palace where the festival
was to be held.
“Take me,” cried Nona. “I want to go with you, my Nemo.”
Never had my Nona seen public merry-making; the woman in her was very
eager to go, to take part in it.
And I took her. With Caan, we started after that next meal; and Caan’s
woman stayed at home with Boy and her own children.
My last moment decision to take Nona seemed somewhat superfluous, for
all that day she had been getting ready to go! Clothes! My Nona was as
interested in them as any woman of your own Earth.
She had made every preparation, and soon she swam before us, laughing
with excitement and delight. I gasped. For the first time, I saw her
usually up-flowing hair bound down to her shapely head, coiled and
braided, and with a garland of tiny marine flowers in it. A new,
close-fitting suit, with a girdle. And anklets of dull green, which by
contrast made her smooth skin shine like polished pink marble.
“You like me, my Nemo?” she laughed. And she eyed me sidewise through
lowered lashes—as though I were not her mate, but only one who wished
to be.
* * * * *
Then we started. The streets—more brightly lighted than usual—were
bedecked with flowers. The light slanting down through the water from
overhead lent queer grotesque shadows to the figures swimming beneath
them. The crowd was all moving toward the palace. Marinoid men and
girls—gaudily dressed; the girls, I noticed, all more scantily robed
than upon less festive occasions. In couples and little groups, they
swam along. The water rang with the gay voices of the girls. A cart
passed us—a sleigh driven by a swimming animal—the equipage of one of
the King’s advisers. But its owner was not in it now. It was loaded with
Marinoid girls; as they swept past, one of them leaned out and tossed a
garland of seaweed over my head, laughing at me provocatively.
We three—Caan, Nona and I—swam slowly onward. The eve of warfare! No
one would have believed it who swam the gay streets of Rax that night!
And yet—a figure lurked here and there. The Marinog half breeds! From
doorways of houses dark, with the shades all closed, from rooftops,
tangles of street vegetation, they hovered, motionless. Or swam
furtively, close along the walls of cross-streets.
I could feel their eyes upon me. At one corner we passed a giant
half-breed man. He stood on the street-bottom, motionless, and he did
not move to make way for us. I passed quite close to him; and I could
sense that his figure stiffened, tensed. I looked back. . . . He was
staring after me, grim, inscrutable, sinister. . . .
The palace, and the water before it, were jammed. Glaring green water.
Lights everywhere. Crowds of gaudy figures. . . . Laughing girls, alert
to their sex. . . . Confusion . . . gaiety everywhere. . . .
I followed Caan, keeping Nona close beside me. On the palace roof we
came to rest, near a sort of throne erected at the parapet—a throne on
which the King and Queen were sitting.
Atar joined us. “Will you eat now? Food is there waiting.”
He smiled at my Nona, kneeling before her. And she bent down and touched
his head with her cheek, Marinoid fashion.
We did not care to eat; across the palace roof I could see servants of
the King handing out food to all who approached.
At the edge of the parapet, with the King and Queen above us, and Atar
gallantly at Nona’s side, we sat down to watch.
There was music in the water! I looked about for its source. At first I
did not know what it was; how should I—since I had never heard music
before? It came from a platform that dangled from the foliage overhead.
On the platform were a dozen Marinoid men. Three or four plucked at
thin, vibrating lengths of fish-bone, which gave off curiously twanging,
but not unmusical notes. The rest pounded shells of different
sizes—thumped them with resilient little hammers in odd rhythm.
* * * * *
An orchestra! Perhaps you could call it that. They played it with
enthusiasm, and almost continuously. On the platform also were three
Marinoid girls. One of them, waving a long, filmy robe about her, was
twisting her body in the music’s rhythm; when she tired, the other girls
took her place. And their voices, singing, joined the music.
Nona and I watched, breathless, confused, but like children at your
circus, eager to see everything which simultaneously was going on.
Presently, several young men swam to different parts of the arena, and
clung to the foliage. A young girl—one of the Marinoid beauties—swam
to the center of the open water. She hung poised; and as the music
suddenly stopped, she unbound her coiled hair and dropped the garland of
seaweed which had been adorning it. The garland drifted downward. The
girl uttered a sudden sharp command. At the signal, the young men dove
for the prize. A sharp scuffle. . . . Then one, quicker, more fortunate
than the rest, secured the garland and amid applause from the onlookers,
swam up and restored it to the girl. Her embrace thanked him. With
tenderly lingering fingers he bound up her tresses and adorned them with
the garland; and together they swam off to the roof-top to eat, or to
sit down and watch the performance repeated by others.
In another section of the water, the couples thus chosen were dancing. I
can call it nothing else—swimming in close embrace in time to the
music.
And there were other games, the details of which I could not grasp.
Combats between young men—bloodless, but real enough for all that—with
the maiden’s favor always as the prize. Nona and I sat enthralled. I was
disappointed in my Nona. She wanted to join in the games! But I would
not let her, of course.
We were getting hungry. I turned to find that Atar was no longer with
us. On the throne behind us the King was adorning a Marinoid girl just
chosen as the most beautiful. But where was Atar?
A group of girls and a gay young man came swimming up and importuned the
King. He listened to them, and then signed for Nona and me to approach.
“Nemo,” he said. “They wish your Nona for the swimming and diving
exhibitions.”
I did not know what he meant at once; but Nona seemed to understand.
“Nemo! Let me do it! Please!” Her eagerness was child-like.
And then abruptly Atar dashed up. He whispered to the King. Then he
turned to me.
“Nemo, come!”
Nona was still begging me.
“Let her do it,” said Atar. “We will be back shortly.”
“You will stay near her?” I said to Caan. I could not leave Nona again
uncared for.
Caan nodded; and Atar pulled me away.
We swam from the gay, noisy scene—up a dim cross-street which was
silent and deserted. Atar had not spoken.
“What is it?” I demanded.
* * * * *
“The half-breeds!” He increased his pace. Soon we were at the roof of
the city; open water stretched above us. From the cross-streets at the
side of the city, figures were issuing—the figures of men, women and
children. They came out into the open water furtively, and mounted at
once. Little groups, mounting upward to gather in a crowd above the
city. And then streaming off in a line single-file—a swimming line of
figures which already extended out of sight into the dimness of the
distant water.
The half-breeds—Marinogs—all the Maagog sympathizers—were leaving
Rax! Rats leaving a sinking ship? Was it that? Or a gathering for action
somewhere else? The Water of Wild Things lay in that direction. Were
they going there? Or to Gahna—sister city to Rax? Gahna also lay that
way.
We watched for a time, and then Atar led me back to the festival. I need
not repeat our speculations. Our questions soon were to be answered.
We reached the roof-top. The swimming and diving exhibitions were in
progress—Marinoid girls of beauty and grace, diving from the overhead
foliage down across the brilliantly lighted cube of water.
I saw hoops of woven weed being held in front of the palace—a dozen of
them at intervals. And Nona was just then poised, ready for her dive. I
held my breath staring up to where her slim, pink-white figure stood
gracefully on the wavering end of a huge, fan-like leaf high above me. A
signal, shouted by the King. Down Nona came in a head-first dive. She
hardly made a ripple as she passed through the water. Through one of the
hoops she passed, then swimming zig-zag through other hoops, up and
down, slowly turning over to pass a hoop feet first, then doubled up,
spinning like a ball, and at last straightening out again, swimming up
and finishing on tip-toe before the King, graceful as a swallow
alighting.
My beautiful Nona! Even the Marinoids—strange as her mermaid beauty was
to them—applauded her loudly. And the King smilingly touched her
radiant cheek with his. My own cheeks burned with the pleasure of it, my
pride in this girl of mine. Presently she was back at my side, and I was
holding her close, while still they applauded.
Then other girls dove. Then we ate. And I, with Nona only, swam in time
to the music. Gayety. The pleasure of the senses. And then like a
thunder-clap came a woman’s shrill cry of horror. The music was stilled;
silence, strange, uncanny, after all that laughter, fell over the water.
A little knot of people were approaching the King. I hurried there,
found a Marinoid girl of Gahna—a girl with frail body torn and
bleeding.
We laid her down; and to the King she gasped out her news. The
half-breeds had risen into revolt. From Rax and all the other Marinoid
cities, they had gone to Gahna. The city was in terror. Bloodshed. And
the Marinoid girls who resisted the half-breeds were being killed!
The half breed revolt! It had come!