others of my people here to stop the threat theyspeak of so fearfully. I do not understand."
"The old ruler thinks the ships will come and drive them off from hiscity. But he is wrong, they will never come. It is like waiting for themoon to fall. The raiders' ships will return, and they will be strongerthan ever. But not a ship of the Zervs remains in neighboring space tosuccor us. Yet he hopes, and his followers wait. It is foolish, and hecannot trust you or men like you to get help for him. He is too old tomeet new conditions and to understand."
Few of the Zervs had shown the rapt interest in me and my people thatthis Zoorph had made so plain. I thought backward on how carefully sheand I had been kept apart since our first meeting, and I realized therewas more to it than Nokomee's words of anger.
"What is a Zoorph, and what is your name? Why did Nokomee warn meagainst all Zoorphs?"
"A Zoorph is a member of a cult; a student of mysteries not understoodby the many. The others have a superstition about us, that we destroysouls and make others slaves to our will. It is stupid, but it is likeall superstitions--hard to disprove because so vague in nature." Sheflickered impossible eyelashes at me languishingly, in perfect coquetry."You don't think me dangerous to your soul, do you?"
I didn't. I thought her a very charming and talented woman, whom Iwanted to know much better. I said so, and she laughed.
"You are wiser than I thought, to see through their lies. They are goodpeople, but like all people everywhere, they have their littleinsanities, their beliefs and their intolerances."
Yet within me there was a little warning shudder borne of the strangepower of her eyes on my own, of the chill of the night, of many littlepast-observed strangenesses in her ways, in the fear the Zervs bore forher ... I reserved something of caution. She saw this in my eyes andsmiled sadly, and that sad and understanding smile was perfectlycalculated to dispel my last doubt of her. I slid closer across thegrass, to lie beside her.
"What could I gain by a knowledge of what lies in the city, Zoorph?" Iasked.
"My name is _Carna_, stranger. In that city you can learn whether thereis danger for your people in what the Schrees plan on earth. We couldnot tell that, for we do not know enough about your own race'sabilities. You could steal a vehicle to take you to your own richcities. And as for me, I could go with you, to practice my arts in yourcities and become rich and famous."
"What are your arts, Carna?"
"Nothing you would call spectacular, perhaps. I can read thought, I canforetell the future, and I can sometimes make things happen fortunately,if I try very hard. Such things, very unsubstantial arts, not like yourgun which kills. Subtle things, like making men fall in love with me,perhaps."
She laughed into my eyes and I got abruptly to my feet. She was tellingthe truth in the last sentence, and I did not blame Nokomee for fearingher power.
"Let us see, then, Carna, what the night can give us. I cannot waitforever for chance to bring me freedom. Come," I bent and helped her toher feet, very pleasant and clinging her grasp on my arm, very soft andutterly smooth the flesh of her arm in my hand, very graceful and lovelyher swift movement to rise. My heart was beating wildly, she was a kindI understood, but could not resist any the better for knowing. Or was Iunkind, and she but starved for kindness and human sympathy, so longamong a people who disliked and feared her?
We walked along in the darkness, the distant moving lights of that citycloser each step, and a dread in my breast at what I would find there, adread that grew. Beside me Carna was silent, her face lovely and glowingin the night, her step graceful as a deer's.
We circled the high wall of white marble keeping some twenty feet away,where the grass gave knee-high cover we could drop into instantly. Wecame around to the far side from the cliff, and stopped where a pavedhighway ran smooth, like pebbled glass, straight across the valley. Iglanced at Carna, she gestured toward the open gate in the wall, andsmiled a daring word.
"In...?"
"In!" I answered, and like two kids, hand in hand, we stole through theshadowed gateway, sliding quickly out of the light, standing with ourbacks to the wall, looking up the long, dim-lit way along which a myriaddark doorways told of life. But it was seemingly deserted. Carnawhispered softly:
"When it was ours, the night was gay with life and love, now--_it isdeath!_"
"Death or taxes, we're going to take a look."
We stole along the shadowed side of the street, the moon was up,shedding much too bright a light now for comfort. Perhaps a hundredyards along that strange street we went, I letting the Zoorph lead theway, for I had an idea she must know the city and have some plan, or shewould not be here. If she meant to use me to escape into my world, I wasall for her.
Then, from ahead, came the sound of feet, many of them in unison. Wedarted into a doorway, crouched behind a balustrade. Nearer came thefeet, and I peered between the interstices of the screening balustrade.The feet came on; slow, rhythmic, marching without zest or pause orbreak, perfection without snap. As the first marching figure came intosight in the moonlight, I shuddered to the core with something worsethan fear.
For they were men who were no longer men! When Barto and Polter andNoldi had been carried off unconscious, Nokomee had told me:
"They are not my people. They go their way and we go ours. Time has madeus a people divided. Time, _and a cruel science_."
These were the mole-men, the crab-men, the creatures built for specificpurposes as tools are built. Each _thing_ bore on his back a bale ofgoods, or a bar of metal, a burden sizeable enough for two ordinary men.They were strong, and they were silent and smooth-moving as machines. Irealized they _were_ machines--made out of flesh.
"Are these slaves, or what?" I asked Carna.
"These were once the slaves, or workmen of the race of Zervs. They nowserve the Schrees, for they are mindless, in a way. They are notimportant. It is those who guard and guide them I wait to see. I havenot yet seen a Schree, but only heard the Zervs describe them."
The nightmare procession went on for minutes, long minutes that were tome a nightmare. Yet I realized that if I had been raised to the idea ofhumankind made into machines, it would not be revolting--not after theyhad been hereditarily moulded for centuries into what they were. Yetwhat a crime it was, what they might have been if left to develop asnature intended, rather than as man cruelly mal-intended. They must havebeen once specially selected for strength as well as beauty, for aboutthem was a sad and terrible grace, a remainder of noble chiseling ofbrow and nostril, distorted as by a fiend into the horror that itwas--these had once been a noble race!
"Do you feel the terrible horror of this sight?" I asked Carna.
"Always I have felt the horror that was done to them in the past. It is_still_ done to man. Look, there are the three who came with you, andfell into the hands _of the priests_. They are the thing that the Zervs_really fear_, yet they live with it, and have done so for centuries.They can despise the Schrees, but they are as bad themselves--look!"
I followed with my eye her pointing finger. Yes, that figure _was_hulking Barto, and I almost yelled "Jake, snap out of it!" before Iremembered my own peril.
Then he came into the full light, and passed not twenty feet away. Ileaned against the railing of stone, sick as a dog and retching. Theyhad made him over, with some unknown aborted science of an evil world!Jake was clubfooted, lumbering, with his jaws grown into great jowls ofbone, his arms elongated and ending in hooks. Two of the fingers, or thethumb and finger had been enlarged or grafted into a bone-like semblanceof a crab's claw. What he was going to be when they got through, Ididn't know, but neither did Jake. He didn't know anything! He clumpedalong, his crossed eyes unmoving, his back bent with a weight heavy foreven his broad shoulders--a man no longer, but a mindless zombie. Across-eyed zombie!
I cursed silently, tearing my hands against the stone as I resisted theimpulse to fire and fire again upon those hopping, thin, white thingsthat came after.
"Just _what_ are those hopping things
?"
"They are a separate race, who have lived with both Zervs and withSchrees. They are a part of our life. You have dogs, horses, machines.We have _Jivros_--that is, priests--and we have the workmen we callShinros, and too, we have the Zoorphs!" She laughed a little as I staredat her. "Do not worry, the Zoorphs are not really so different. But theSchrees and Shinros _are_ different."
"Damned, beastly, demoniac life it must be."
"To you, who expect things to be like your knowledge tells you it mustbe. To us, it is our way. For a Zerv, or for a Schree, it is a good way.The Jivros do the supervisory work, the Shinros do the hard work, andthe Schrees take it easy and enjoy life. Why do you have machines?"
"Machines are not alive. That is different."
"Neither are the Shinros alive, they only seem so. They