“We must get out of here,” he said tersely.
As he did not see any way of going back up that sliding hole, they would have to explore this storage place further. But there would be no more opening of boxes, no more touching anything which belonged to the people of the stone heaps. No wonder Trush had shown such a marked dislike for the traces these people had left behind!
The twins, now very subdued, joined him readily. They walked together down between those rows of containers, past the clear-sided ones in which strange objects tried to ensnare their curiosity.
The pictures on the wall beside them changed continually. While the first had shown the people of this place in semi-incomprehensible action, these were scenes from outside the city showing reaches of land such as the three knew from their own wandering across it. Then Jony was halted by a vivid scene.
A sky ship! The Big Ones had been here before! Yet, as he peered more closely, he was not quite sure . . . This ship seemed different in outline, though he would not swear to that. His own glimpse of the outside of the alien ship had been limited. It was enough that these people used sky ships. In his mind that linked them with the Big Ones, and he no longer wondered at the strange weapon or tool Geogee had found.
“Jony!” Maba had not done more than glance at the picture which had so excited him. She was ahead again, pointing at another. “Look—there are the People!”
There they were indeed, seeming alive, ready to walk away from the wall and join them, Trush, or Voak, or Yaa. But they . . . Jony's lips thinned and his hand tightened on his staff—These People went on fours, which the People did not, unless the footing was very bad and they had need for extra bursts of speed. And around their bodies were straps from which hung cords. The People here were prisoners; some—some were pictured in cages!
Jony snarled. Just as he thought, those who had lived here had the same evil nature as the Big Ones even though they looked like himself! The People in their time had escaped, just as Rutee and he had gained freedom. Evil—he felt now he could sniff the evil in this as if as rank and air-filling as the stench of the Red Heads!
“What were they doing?” Maba asked still intent on the picture. “Why do the People have those things on them?”
“Because,” Jony said between his teeth, “they were prisoners—prisoners of evil ones. As we were once. Oh, let us get out of here!”
He pulled her on. There must be some way out; he had to find it!
SIX
They finally reached the end of that huge space. Jony was unable to judge just how large it was because of all that was crowded into it. Here stood another gleaming door, twin to the one he had forced open at the other end. To his surprise, just as he was wondering how effective his mistreated staff might prove for another such assault, Maba moved confidently forward. Standing on tiptoe, she put her two hands as far up as she could reach so that they met in a slight depression.
“Maba!” Jony was reaching to snatch her back when he saw that the door line was enlarging, reluctantly. They could catch a faint grating sound from within the wall, the first sound save those they themselves had made to be heard here at all.
The crack was wide enough open now for Maba and Geogee. But Jony did not trust it in the least. He turned about, grabbed at the stacked colored boxes, catching one which yielded to his tugging. With this he wedged the door panel, holding it open.
They passed into another gray-lit, plain-walled passage. However, this slanted upward, and Jony hoped that that meant they would eventually reach the surface and freedom. He had no idea of what this place was, save that the ones who had built the walls with their rods had apparently gathered therein things which they had made and perhaps treasured.
There was a crackling from behind; Jony whirled, shaft ready. All he saw was that the brace he had put in the doorway was being crushed by the weight of the closing panel, though the debris kept it from closing completely.
Maba—how had Maba learned the secret of the doors? He was more than a little puzzled by that. Now he asked her directly.
“I could see there was a line,” she answered promptly. “And I kept feeling along up and down. 'Cause that's the way the wall opened before—when I put my hands on it.” She smiled with that particular smile she used at times when she believed that she had been clever. Maba was only too ready to believe in her own powers, and lacked the wariness which Jony had learned in the cages when he was far younger than she was.
“Jony,” Geogee had been scuffling along, frowning a little, as if some thought was troubling. “Those People on the wall—you said they were prisoners—like you and Rutee. But the others, the new ones, they looked like us, not as you said the Big Ones do. If they were like us—why would they shut up the People, make them wear those straps around their necks, stay in cages?”
“You heard what I said to Maba,” Jony gave the best answer he could summon. “Just because those in the pictures look like us, that doesn't mean they were like us inside. We know the Big Ones are bad, and they look different, so we learned from the beginning to be afraid of them. But the mind-controlled—they were like us. Yet they did just what the Big Ones told them. So unless we were sure, we could not trust them, ever.”
“Then those in the pictures were mind-controlled?” Geogee demanded.
“I don't know.” Jony could not somehow believe that the very alien Big Ones were responsible for the building of this place. The sky ship picture had alarmed him at first glance. But then, Rutee had told him his own people had such ships. That was how she and Bron had come to the world where the Big Ones had caught them. There might be different kinds of sky ships. In the wall pictures there was no hint of Big Ones.
All he was certain of at that moment was that this was a place which threatened them. The sooner they were out of it and back in the open country they knew, the better.
“I'm tired,” Maba said suddenly. “And I can't go fast any more, Jony. I'm hungry—”
“I'm hungry, too!” Geogee reinforced that promptly. “I want to get out of here, Jony. We keep going up and up but we don't see outside.”
He was right. The slope they followed kept them going up and up, but Jony had no way of measuring how far down the tube descent had taken them in the first place.
“We'll get out—soon—” he tried to make his assurance sound convincing. The trouble was he had no idea whether he spoke the truth or not. And he was hungry and thirsty too. He wanted to run, but both children were lagging, and he knew that he could do no more than keep them encouraged and moving forward, even though their pace slowed.
“I'm tired,” Maba repeated again with more emphasis. “I don't think I can keep on walking up and up, Jony.”
“Sure you can,” he rallied her. “You're so clever about doors, Maba. We'll need your help if we find another one up ahead.”
She continued to look doubtful, and she was climbing very slowly indeed. Geogee bettered her, was farther ahead, so that Jony had to call him back. What worried the older boy was that the strange light filling these under-surface passages was distinctly fading the farther they climbed. Jony had no wish to lose contact with either child in that complete dark which he had met before.
“Listen,” Jony spoke sharply. “You, Maba, take hold of this!”
He held out the half-splintered shaft, thinking when they at last got out of here he would need to make another. As the girl closed her hands on the butt end, Jony called ahead:
“Geogee, wait right where you are.” When they caught up to the impatient boy, Jony pulled him into line with his twin. “Take hold—right here, and don't either of you let go. I want to know where you are in the dark.”
He held the crook part in his own hands as he walked in the lead. This last part of the climb was at an even greater angle, and Jony made it slowly, fearing that either twin might lose its link. At last before him was an opening (without any of those sliding panels, Jony was thankful to see), and they came out onto a level space.
Here was a freshness of air, yet walls arose about them. It was dark enough so that Jony moved very slowly.
Finally he caught sight of small, sharp sparks of light ahead. Whether those meant more danger or not he could not tell. But he had to have some guide to center on, and those were the only such he could find. Linked by their hold on Jony's staff, the three came at last to a place the older had been before, in that great heap which was the heart of the forbidden place. There on its dais, glittering with living fire, was the block of stone which held the sleeper.
Those dots of color had been bright in the daylight, but in the dark they were even more alive, some sparkling, some burning with a steady glow. Jony wanted no part of this place, but at least he now knew where they were. “What's that?” Geogee asked.
“I don't know,” Jony answered shortly. “But I do know where we are now. And we can get out of here easily—Come on!”
They skirted the stepped blocks which supported the container of the sleeper, and continued on down the dark way, moving around the stone woman. In this manner they found again the river of stone which would lead them out of this danger zone.
Danger zone it was. Jony's skin prickled with more than just the chill of the night air. He felt as if an emanation rayed out from all these piled blocks, alerting his warning sense, although he received nothing specific, just a general feeling of uneasiness and the need to get as far away as possible.
Maba stumbled and fell. She sat on the ground. “I—I can't get up, Jony. My feet hurt. I'm so tired.”
There was only one thing to be done. Jony thrust his staff at Geogee. “Carry that and stay close,” he ordered. He stooped and picked up the girl.
Though she looked so small and thin, Maba was a heavy enough burden, and Jony was tired also. But he knew that he could not manage to keep her going on her own now.
They stayed strictly in the middle of the stone path on their way between the piles of stone. Though the night was dark, it was a straight enough guide to get them out and away. Geogee trailed the shaft, the butt bumping against the pavement. However, he did remain close to Jony. Perhaps he, too, felt that undefinable menace which Jony was sure was a part of this place.
They wavered on, passing one side way after another. Twice Jony had to put Maba down and rest a few moments before gathering her up again. She lay, a limp weight in his hold and never spoke. She might have been asleep, but, if so, this was no natural rest. Jony's uneasiness grew. Maba had handled the cloth, wrapped the length around her. She had been longer than he or Geogee in that storehouse of the alien things. Could it be that because of her curious prying, she now lay under some influence from that place resulting in a weakening of her body? Jony wanted to get out—and yet their way seemed longer and longer.
He was breathing in gasps as they passed between the last of the heaps to reach the outer world. There was no moon tonight, and Jony's night sight was not good enough to do more than show the ridge up which he must go to find the clan camp. He was well aware that he could blunder about in the dark and be lost.
Putting Maba down on the ground, well away from the river of stone, he caught at his staff, drawing Geogee to him. The boy immediately crouched down beside his twin. Jony stood surveying the dark bulk of the ridge. Though he could not communicate by mind-call with the People, he knew that such an effort—if concentrated enough—did in some manner summon them. Just as his plea had brought Yaa when he had called for help for Rutee.
Now he put his full concentration into such a summons. The People did not travel much by night, though their sight was far better than his. But they had already been out seeking the twins and might still be somewhere about. Trush had known Jony had come in this direction in his own search.
Yes! Jony gave a great sigh of relief. Trush, or at least one of the People, was not too far away. He had touched that alien thought pattern which he could not read. Again he concentrated on trying to relay his need.
But, to his surprise and disappointment, as the time passed, no furred form shuffled down out of the brush to answer him. Was that because he and the twins had been in the place of stone? Did the People hold the site in such a degree of either fear or dislike they would now treat Jony and the twins with the same refusal to admit their existence as Trush had turned on the river of stone at their first sight of it?
Jony thought of that picture on the wall, the People in bondage and in cages. Somehow they had won their freedom from that state. However, Jony and the twins physically resembled their one-time captors, and the three had returned to the place of captivity. Could the People now believe that Jony and the twins were indeed to be identified with their ancient enemies?
The thought of that hurt as much as a sudden blow. Since the first moment when Yaa had come out of the storm to aid Rutee, Jony had accepted the People as wiser, stronger, and better than any other life-form he had known, save Rutee herself. They were not the empty shells of the mind-controlled. In fact, as far as Jony knew, they could not be mind-controlled. Neither did they hold him captive with the callous disregard of him as a thinking being the way the Big Ones had.
No, in their way the People were the whole world Jony knew and accepted as right and good. They were not the caged ones he had seen, any more than he was of the same breed who had caged them.
“I am here,” he thought with all the force he could summon now, “I am me, Jony, the one you have known . . . I am ME.”
He had never known how much of his thought-send the People could pick up, whether it was as difficult for them to “touch” him as it was for any message to be sent in the opposite direction. At the moment he could only continue to hope that he and the twins had not been disowned by the clan, that he could influence the watcher up there.
As the moments continued to pass that hope was blunted. The twins could not remain in the open in the night cold. Jony must find them some kind of shelter. Only not in the place they had just fled.
“Jony, I'm hungry,” Geogee said plaintively. “And Maba—she's sleeping. But she's breathing funny, Jony. I want to go to Yaa. Please, Jony, let's go!”
Jony knelt to gather Maba once more in his arms. Her skin was chill against his, and her head rolled loosely against his shoulder. She was breathing in shallow gasps. Jony shivered. Like Rutee—the coughing sickness? But that illness struck in the cold time. He wanted Yaa as much as Geogee did, but dared he take the children up into the brush?
They simply could not stay in the open any longer. Somehow he got to his feet, Maba once more in his hold. Geogee had the staff.
“Up—there—” Jony got out these words.
Geogee did not move. “It's dark,” he objected. “And it's a hard climb—”
“Get moving!” Jony made it an order. He could not carry Geogee also. He was not even sure he could top the ridge under the burden of the girl's dead weight. That silent watcher from the People was still there, though. It could be that the clansman simply would not come this close to the river of stone.
Jony began the climb, Geogee scrambling a little ahead. Over this rough country the older boy had to exert his strength to the uttermost, testing each forward step before he set his full weight upon it.
He looked no higher than that which lay immediately before him, as much as he could see of that in this lack of light. The climb seemed to take a very long time, though he did not stop to rest, feeling that if he dared that he would not be able to get started again.
Thigh-high brush closed about him, and he had to push through it blindly, dodging the larger bushes as best he could. The watcher still waited. Up—one step—another. Somehow, Jony finished the climb, lurching up onto the crest of the ridge. Once there he stood, panting heavily. He raised his head, looked about him for the presence he knew was there.
Hard as the People were to distinguish in the daytime, that sighting was even more difficult at night. At last Jony caught those luminous circles of eyes. He did not try to advance. Any action now must be initiated by t
he other.
Geogee moved closer. “It's Voak!” he cried aloud.
Jony already had recognized the clansman leader moving farther into the open under the night sky. There Voak stood, staring at the three, making no gesture of aid or even of recognition.
Geogee halted. “Voak—?” he asked, a very uncertain note in his voice. Plainly the attitude of the other had first surprised, and now daunted him.
Voak was no longer alone. Jony sensed others moving up and in. The People gathered behind the clanleader, hard to see, except for their steady eyes. There was a reserve, a wariness about them which alarmed Jony. Since he could not reach them with mind-touch, he must wait now, let their future actions explain what had happened to cut him and the twins off from that warm feeling of the clan closeness. For cut off he was now certain they were.
Voak raised his staff to beckon. Jony stumbled forward obediently. One of the other People advanced to take Maba from him. He and Geogee followed on their own feet, though Jony did not miss the point that Voak himself had caught Jony's own staff, drawing it easily away from Geogee.
They staggered along, the People closing in about Jony and Geogee in a way which was not protective, but rather gave the feeling that they were now prisoners. So they traveled in silence back to the campsite near the stream.
Voak waved his staff in another gesture, sending them to their sleep nests. The one who had carried Maba gave her over to Yaa, who carried her back into the family place. Jony knew a little relief at that. He still trusted Yaa to give the girl care. He did not know what was wrong with Maba. The thought persisted that she might have contracted some illness connected with the place of stones, and he feared how dire that might be.
Geogee came and curled up beside him under their covering.
“Jony,” his voice was the thinnest of whispers in the dark as Jony stretched his aching legs and tried to find comfort from the fact that at least they were back in the camp. “Jony, what is the matter? Why do the People hate us?”