XVI.
It made no sense. Jason tried to reconcile the modern machine with thebarbarian and couldn't. Who was he calling? The existence of onecommunicator meant there was at least another. Was Rhes a person or athing?
With a mental effort he grabbed hold of his thoughts and braked them toa stop. There was something new here, factors he hadn't counted on. Hekept reassuring himself there was an explanation for everything, onceyou had your facts straight.
Jason closed his eyes, shutting out the glaring rays of the sun where itcut through the tree tops, and reconsidered his facts. They separatedevenly into two classes; those he had observed for himself, and those hehad learned from the city dwellers. This last class of "facts" he wouldhold, to see if they fitted with what he learned. There was a goodchance that most, or all, of them would prove false.
"Get up," the voice jarred into his thoughts. "We're leaving."
His legs were still numb and hardly usable. The bearded man snorted indisgust and hauled him to his feet, propping him against the outer wall.Jason clutched the knobby bark of the logs when he was left alone. Helooked around, soaking up impressions.
It was the first time he had been on a farm since he had run away fromhome. A different world with a different ecology, but the similarity wasapparent enough to him. A new-sown field stretched down the hill infront of the shack. Ploughed by a good farmer. Even, well cast furrowsthat followed the contour of the slope. Another, larger log building wasnext to this one, probably a barn.
There was a snuffling sound behind him and Jason turned quickly--andfroze. His hand called for the missing gun and his finger tightened downon a trigger that wasn't there.
It had come out of the jungle and padded up quietly behind him. It hadsix thick legs with clawed feet that dug into the ground. The two-meterlong body was covered with matted yellow and black fur, all except theskull and shoulders. These were covered with overlapping horny plates.Jason could see all this because the beast was that close.
He waited to die.
The mouth opened, a froglike division of the hairless skull, revealingdouble rows of jagged teeth.
"Here, Fido," the bearded man said, coming up behind Jason and snappinghis fingers at the same time. The thing bounded forward, brushing pastthe dazed Jason, and rubbed his head against the man's leg. "Nicedoggy," the man said, his fingers scratching under the edge of thecarapace where it joined the flesh.
The bearded man had brought two of the riding animals out of the barn,saddled and bridled. Jason barely noticed the details of smooth skin andlong legs as he swung up on one. His feet were quickly lashed to thestirrups. When they started the skull-headed beast followed them.
"Nice doggy!" Jason said, and for no reason started to laugh. Thebearded man turned and scowled at him until he was quiet.
* * * * *
By the time they entered the jungle it was dark. It was impossible tosee under the thick foliage, and they used no lights. The animals seemedto know the way. There were scraping noises and shrill calls from thejungle around them, but it didn't bother Jason too much. Perhaps theautomatic manner in which the other man undertook the journey reassuredhim. Or the presence of the "dog" that he felt rather than saw. The tripwas a long one, but not too uncomfortable.
The regular motion of the animal and his fatigue overcame Jason and hedozed into a fitful sleep, waking with a start each time he slumpedforward. In the end he slept sitting up in the saddle. Hours passed thisway, until he opened his eyes and saw a square of light before them. Thetrip was over.
His legs were stiff and galled with saddle sores. After his feet wereuntied getting down was an effort, and he almost fell. A door openedand Jason went in. It took his eyes some moments to get used to thelight, until he could make out the form of a man on the bed before him.
"Come over here and sit down." The voice was full and strong, accustomedto command. The body was that of an invalid. A blanket covered him tothe waist, above that the flesh was sickly white, spotted with rednodules, and hung loosely over the bones. There seemed to be nothingleft of the man except skin and skeleton.
"Not very nice," the man on the bed said, "but I've grown used to it."His tone changed abruptly. "Naxa said you were from off-world. Is thattrue?"
Jason nodded yes, and his answer stirred the living skeleton to life.The head lifted from the pillow and the red-rimmed eyes sought his witha desperate intensity.
"My name is Rhes and I'm a ... grubber. Will you help me?"
Jason wondered at the intensity of Rhes' question, all out of proportionto the simple content of its meaning. Yet he could see no reason to giveanything other than the first and obvious answer that sprang to hislips.
"Of course I'll help you, in whatever way I can. As long as it involvesno injury to anyone else. What do you want?"
The sick man's head had fallen back limply, exhausted, as Jason talked.But the fire still burned in the eyes.
"Feel assured ... I want to injure no others," Rhes said. "Quite theopposite. As you see I am suffering from a disease that our remedieswill not stop. Within a few more days I will be dead. Now I haveseen ... the city people ... using a device, they press it over awound or an animal bite. Do you have one of these machines?"
"That sounds like a description of the medikit." Jason touched thebutton at his waist that dropped the medikit into his hand. "I have minehere. It analyzes and treats most ..."
"Would you use it on me?" Rhes broke in, his voice suddenly urgent.
"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I should have realized." He stepped forwardand pressed the machine over one of the inflamed areas on Rhes' chest.The operation light came on and the thin shaft of the analyzer probeslid down. When it withdrew the device hummed, then clicked three timesas three separate hypodermic needles lanced into the skin. Then thelight went out.
"Is that all?" Rhes asked, as he watched Jason stow the medikit back inhis belt.
Jason nodded, then looked up and noticed the wet marks of tears on thesick man's face. Rhes became aware at the same time and brushed at themangrily.
"When a man is sick," he growled, "the body and all its senses becometraitor. I don't think I have cried since I was a child--but you mustrealize it's not myself I'm crying for. It's the untold thousands of mypeople who have died for lack of that little device you treat socasually."
"Surely you have medicines, doctors of your own?"
"Herb doctors and witch doctors," Rhes said, consigning them all tooblivion with a chop of his hand. "The few hard-working and honest menare hampered by the fact that the faith healers can usually cure betterthan their strongest potion."
The talking had tired Rhes. He stopped suddenly and closed his eyes. Onhis chest, the inflamed areas were already losing their angry color asthe injections took affect. Jason glanced around the room, looking forclues to the mystery of these people.
* * * * *
Floor and walls were made of wood lengths fitted together, free of paintor decoration. They looked simple and crude, fit only for the savageshe had expected to meet. Or were they crude? The wood had a sweeping,flamelike grain. When he bent close he saw that wax had been rubbed overthe wood to bring out this pattern. Was this the act of savages--or ofartistic men seeking to make the most of simple materials? The finaleffect was far superior to the drab paint and riveted steel rooms of thecity-dwelling Pyrrans. Wasn't it true that both ends of the artisticscale were dominated by simplicity? The untutored aborigine made asimple expression of a clear idea, and created beauty. At the otherextreme, the sophisticated critic rejected over-elaboration anddecoration and sought the truthful clarity of uncluttered art. At whichend of the scale was he looking now?
These men were savages, he had been told that. They dressed in furs andspoke a slurred and broken language, at least Naxa did. Rhes admitted hepreferred faith healers to doctors. But, if all this were true, wheredid the communicator fit into the picture? Or the glowing ceiling thatillumina
ted the room with a soft light?
Rhes opened his eyes and stared at Jason, as if seeing him for the firsttime. "Who are you?" he asked. "And what are you doing here?"
There was a cold menace in his words and Jason understood why. The cityPyrrans hated the "grubbers" and, without a doubt, the feeling wasmutual. Naxa's ax had proved that. Naxa had entered silently while theytalked, and stood with his fingers touching the haft of this same ax.Jason knew his life was still in jeopardy, until he gave an answer thatsatisfied these men.
He couldn't tell the truth. If they once suspected he was spying amongthem to aid the city people, it would be the end. Nevertheless, he hadto be free to talk about the survival problem.
The answer hit him as soon as he had stated the problem. All this hadonly taken an instant to consider, as he turned back to face theinvalid, and he answered at once. Trying to keep his voice normal andunconcerned.
"I'm Jason dinAlt, an ecologist, so you see I have the best reasons inthe universe for visiting this planet--"
"What is an ecologist?" Rhes broke in. There was nothing in his voice toindicate whether he meant the question seriously, or as a trap. Alltraces of the ease of their earlier conversation were gone, his voicehad the deadliness of a stingwing's poison. Jason chose his wordscarefully.
"Simply stated, it is that branch of biology that considers therelations between organisms and their environment. How climatic andother factors affect the life forms, and how the life forms in turnaffect each other and the environment." That much Jason knew wastrue--but he really knew very little more about the subject so he movedon quickly.
"I heard reports of this planet, and finally came here to study itfirsthand. I did what work I could in the shelter of the city, but itwasn't enough. The people there think I'm crazy, but they finally agreedto let me make a trip out here."
"What arrangements have been made for your return?" Naxa snapped.
"None," Jason told him. "They seemed quite sure that I would be killedinstantly and had no hope of me coming back. In fact, they refused tolet me go and I had to break away."
This answer seemed to satisfy Rhes and his face cracked into a mirthlesssmile. "They would think that, those junkmen. Can't move a meter outsidetheir own walls without an armor-plated machine as big as a barn. Whatdid they tell you about us?"
Again Jason knew a lot depended on his answer. This time he thoughtcarefully before speaking.
"Well ... perhaps I'll get that ax in the back of my neck for sayingthis ... but I have to be honest. You must know what they think. Theytold me you were filthy and ignorant savages who smelled. And you ...well, had curious customs you practiced with the animals. In exchangefor food, they traded you beads and knives ..."
Both Pyrrans broke into a convulsion of laughter at this. Rhes stoppedsoon, from weakness, but Naxa laughed himself into a coughing fit andhad to splash water over his head from a gourd jug.
"That I believe well enough," Rhes said, "it sounds like the stupiditythey would talk. Those people know nothing of the world they live in. Ihope the rest of what you said is true, but even if it is not, you arewelcome here. You are from off-world, that I know. No junkman would havelifted a finger to save my life. You are the first off-worlder my peoplehave ever known and for that you are doubly welcome. We will help you inany way we can. My arm is your arm."
These last words had a ritual sound to them, and when Jason repeatedthem, Naxa nodded at the correctness of this. At the same time, Jasonfelt that they were more than empty ritual. Interdependence meantsurvival on Pyrrus, and he knew that these people stood together to thedeath against the mortal dangers around them. He hoped the ritual wouldinclude him in that protective sphere.
"That is enough for tonight," Rhes said. "The spotted sickness hadweakened me, and your medicine has turned me to jelly. You will stayhere, Jason. There is a blanket, but no bed at least for now."
Enthusiasm had carried Jason this far, making him forget the two-geeexertions of the long day. Now fatigue hit him a physical blow. He haddim memories of refusing food and rolling in the blanket on the floor.After that, oblivion.