"For my sister, Aleena."
The Olman spat a furious epithet. "No Numan has a sister! Do you think
I'm a fool! It is told around our council fires that your women die
at the birth of their first child. You cannot have a sister! You are
lying!"
Allyn's head lifted proudly. "A Numan does not lie! Aleena and I are
twin--a phenomenon among my people. It was decreed that we would mate
to pass multiple births on through our progeny. But, when the day of
union was set, I refused, knowing that within the year of conception
Aleena would die."
His head bowed recalling his own heresy. "Metas, our Chief Logician
himself came to syko me. He told me I was a throwback, capable of
emotions like an Olman." He shuddered with distaste that brought an
angry growl from the Olman's throat. Allyn did not notice. "Metas
decreed hypno for me."
"Hypno?"
"Control of the mind, so I would have taken Aleena through no volition
of my own."
The Olman leaned forward eagerly: "Tell us how to storm the Nyloplast
dome that surrounds your city. My kinfolk and I will crush your
Logicians and get back your Aleena."
Allyn looked at him in horror: "Do you think even if I could I would
betray Numan into the hands of beasts."
The young savage drew back. His face became hard in bitter lines, and
for a moment his hand flashed to his belt, but his knife was rusting in
the vitals of a rat.
"Beast?" his mouth twisted in hatred. "I--Keeven--am nothing but a
beast to you."
Allyn was bewildered by the other's emotion. The silver brows drew
together in perplexity. Numen were dispassionate, and the Olman's
torrent of feeling was totally new to him.
Whatever he might have said was never uttered. Out of the sky came the
drone of a motor.
"Gyro-gard!" Keeven exclaimed. He crouched like a cat-thing moving
fluid under the shelter of the rock ledge. Heart hammering, Allyn leapt
down beside him. Dry-throated, cramped, they heard the motor come
closer, then fade away in the distance.
"That was close," Allyn said as they came out of concealment. "The
closest they've come yet. They're widening the area of search." He
turned to the other. "Leave me quickly. I can only bring you disaster."
It was Keeven's turn to be perplexed. "I confess I don't understand
you. You are a Numan, but you are different. What do they call you,
Numan?"
"Allyn."
"Allyn, you saved my life. For your good turn my people will shelter
you now. When the chase dies down you can leave us."
Live with the beast-men? Allyn started to decline but Keeven pointed
out, "If you travel without me you will be hunted both by your people
and mine."
There was logic in his words. "All right," he agreed, "I will go to
your people."
* * * * *
Their path lay upward into the somber outjutting hills. Keeven was a
tireless traveler, but Allyn, with the endurance of the Numen, followed
easily. The day paled, and shadows lengthened on the rocks when they
came through a narrow path into the cup of hills where grass grew, and
the land was fertile for crops.
Several times Keeven stopped, and stood, as though listening. Once
Allyn said impatiently: "I don't hear anything."
"That's just it." Keeven's face was gray. "We don't hear anything." The
words gave voice to his fear. He began to run. And Allyn ran behind
him. Scrambling over boulders. Leaping over fallen stumps. Down they
raced to the site of the village.
No sound greeted them. And there was no hint of movement.
At the first house Keeven braked to a halt. Doors were torn away from
the wood shelters, as were the tanned skins over the mouths of the
caves. All about, the grass was blackened with fire, and no crops would
sprout this year in the deep burned earth.
In anguish Keeven rushed from door to door, calling the names of people
who had lived there. His voice keened higher with despair at each empty
dwelling. Slowly Allyn followed. His own throat was tightening at the
other's shock and grief.
There were half prepared meals. In one hut a crude cradle swayed with
the wind of their passing--empty....
The breeze flapped the skins, and a rude door creaked where it hung
bound with rawhide to the lintel.
Slowly the futility of calling struck Keeven. He turned. His hard face
was drawn and bloodless.
"Gone," he whispered. "Nothing. No one left."
As though in mockery, a call sounded from the hills. They wheeled
in shock, eyes to the rocks, straining against the dusk. A figure
scrambled toward the blackened clearing.
It was a girl!
She ran to Keeven. Threw herself in his arms. "Keeven! Oh, Keeven, I
thought I was the only one left!"
"Marva!" Into her hair he stammered, "H--How did you escape?"
"I was in the hills for water when the gyros came." Her voice was
broken with wild sobs, "I heard the commotion and saw the flames. I hid
all this time. Even when the gyros went away. I hid till--till I heard
you calling."
Allyn watched how Keeven patted the soft bare shoulders, and stroked
the tumble of silken hair that was so black it seemed blue. A stirring
of strange passion went through him. His heart stumbled and raced. He
had the warped mad urge to tear the girl away from the youth, to study
her face, twine that hair round and round his lean long fingers. He
stood like a rock, holding back churning emotions.
Metas was right! Over and over the bitter thought claimed him. Metas
had known! Beneath the generations of logic that had bred him, lay a
core of savagery. Years it had slumbered. Now it claimed him.
He must have made a sound. The girl whirled. Her eyes were great and
dark, her skin rose over dusk. But now the rose-color fled, so that her
wide gaze seemed black with terror and loathing.
* * * * *
Under that gaze Allyn felt whipped. For the first time he felt
shame--shame for himself and for all Numen. Shame that they had caged
these people, torn them, bled and killed them. All in the name of
science! Experiment was survival! The Logicians had made it holy. The
mirror of the girl's eyes told him what Numen were. Monsters!
She shivered. Drew back against Keeven. Her slim body, bare armed, bare
legged in the brief skin garment, trembled against the young savage.
"Don't be afraid," he soothed. "This Numan is a friend." Briefly he
recounted his experiences since leaving camp, till the terror left her
face. Then he said to Allyn: "This is my sister, Marva."
"Keeven," she tugged at his hand. "We must get away from here. The
Gyro-Gard have been circling all day."