He thought deliriously of the Master, in the badlands seven years before, his illness from radiation. Now Var knew what the man had gone through, and why he had sworn friendship to the wild boy who had aided him then. But the thought brought another torment, for he still could not fathom why the Master had reversed that oath and become a mortal enemy.
But most of all, he thought of Soli-she who cared for him now in his helplessness. A child yet-but a master sticker and faithful companion who had never remarked on the colors of his skin or the crudity of his hands and feet and hunch. She could have returned to her father, whom she loved, but had not. She could even have gone to the Master, who had offered to adopt her as his daughter. Such offers were never casually made. She had stayed with Var because she thought he needed help.
And he did.
It was night and he slept. It was day and he moved fitfully and half-slept, hearing the roaring of the motor, smelling the gasoline she poured from stacked cans into the funnel. It was night again, and cold, and Soli hugged him close and wrapped rough blankets about them both and warmed him with her small body while his teeth knocked together.
But he did recover.
In one of his lucid moments-and he was aware they were not frequent-she talked with him about the mountain Helicon and the nomads.
"You know, I thought you people were savages," she said. "Then I met you, and the Nameless One, and I knew you were merely ignorant. I thought it would be good to have you joined with underworld 'nology."
"Yes-" He wanted to agree, to converse on her level, sure he was able to do so now. But the sentence played itself out in silence.
"But now I've seen what it's like beyond the crazy demesnes, where the common man does have some 'nology-technology-and I'm not so sure. I wonder whether the nomads would lose their primitive values, if-"
Yes, yes! He had wondered the same. And been unable to express it succinctly. The amazons and their motors and their barbarism. . .. But he could remember no more of that fragment. The boat went on and on beside the bridge. Once he felt radiation, and cried out, and she veered away from it.
Then time had passed or stopped and the boat was docked and there were people. Not amazons, not nomads. Soli was gone and then she was back, crying, and she. kissed him and was gone again.
A man came and stabbed him in the arm with a spike. When Var woke once more, his abdomen hurt with a different kind of hurt-a mending hurt-and he knew he was at last recovering. But Soli was not there.
Women came and fed him and cleaned him, and he slept some more. And days passed.
"I believe you are well now," a stranger said one day. He was old enough to be losing his hair, and somewhat stout and flabby. No warrior of the circle, he!
Var was well, though weak. His arm and leg and gut had healed, and he was now able to eat without vomiting and to eliminate without bleeding. But he did not trust this man, and he missed Soli, who had not come again since the time she kissed him and cried.
lvflle girl-what is your relationship to her?" the man asked.
"We are friends."
"You speak with a heavy accent. And you appear to have suffered serious radiation burns at one time, and childhood deformities. Where do you come from?"
"Crazy demesnes," he answered, remembering Soli's term.
The man frowned, "Are you being clever?"
"Some call it America. The crazies share it with the nomads." -
"Oh." The man brought him strange, elegant clothing. 'Well, you should be advised that this is New Crete, in the Aleutians. We are civilized, but we have our own conventions. The girl understands this, but feels that you may not."
"Soli-where is she?'.
"She is at the temple, awaiting the pleasure of our God. You may see her now, if you wish."
"Yea." Var still did not like the man's attitude. It was not exactly cynicism of the Helicon vintage, but it wasn't friendly either.
He dressed, feeling awkward in the long loose trousers and long-sleeved white shirt, and particularly in the stiff leather shoes that hurt his clubbed feet. This was not what Var considered to be civilized attire. But the man insisted that he wear these things before going out.
They were in a city-not a dead badlands city, but a living metropolis with lighted buildings and moving vehicles. People thronged the clean streets. Var felt less uncomfortable when he saw that most men were garbed as he was.
The temple was a tremendous building buttressed by columns and a high wall. Guards armed with guns stood at the front gate. Var, so weak that even the short walk fatigued him, and weaponless, felt nervous.
Within the temple were robed pilests and elaborate furnishings. After several challenges and explanations, Var's guide brought him to a chamber whose center was crossed by a row of vertical metal bars, each set about four inches from its neighbor.
Soli entered the other half of the room. She saw Var and ran up to the bars, reaching through to grasp his hand. "You're all right!" she cried, her voice breaking.
"Yes." He was not so certain about her. She looked well, but there was something wrong about her manner. "Why are you here, behind these bars?"
"I'm in the temple." She was silent a moment, just looking at him. "I agreed to do something, so I have to stay here. I can't see you again after this, Var."
He was not facile with words. He did not know how to protest eloquently, to make her tell the truth. Particularly not with the stranger listening. But he knew from her tight, controlled, desperate manner that something terrible had happened while he lay sick, and that Soli expected never to see him again.
And she did not want him to know why.
She had been alienated from him as surely as had the Master-and also by the agency of some third party.
"Good-bye, Var."
He refused to say it to her. He squeezed her hand and turned to go, knowing that this was not the occasion for effective rebuttal; He knew too little.
And during the walk back he worked out what he had to do.
"You will have to go to the employment agency and make application for training," the man said. "Even the menial jobs will be complicated for you at first."
"What if I want to leave here?" Not without Soli, though!
"Why of course you may-if you purchase a boat and supplies. This is a free island. But to do that you will need money."
"Money?"
"If you don't know what that is, you don't have any."
Var let that pass. In time he would find out what money was, and whether he needed it. It sounded like some variation of barter, however.
They entered the hospital and returned to Var's room. "You'll be moving out of here in a day or so," the man said..
Var looked around. None of his or Soli's prior possessions were in evidence, except the bracelet he wore, and that was dull and scratched. He thought he knew why they hadn't taken that: they didn't know it was gold.
The bed was similar to some he had seen during his childhood in the badlands. It had high rods of metal projecting at either end, rather like the grates to certain ancient windows-or the bars in that temple room. Generally, these could be screwed loose....
"And a final word," the man said. "Don't go bothering them at the temple. They won't let you see your friend again."
Var placed a hand on one of the rods and twisted. It was tight. "Why not?'
"Because she is now a temple maiden, dedicated to our God Minos. These girls are kept in seclusion for the duration."
Var tried another bar. This one turned. "Why?"
"Regulations. When they approach nubility, there is too much danger of their losing their value to the God."
The rod came free. Var held it aloft and advanced on the man, suppressing a tremor of weakness. "What will happen to her?"
The man looked at him and at the improvised club, as though ignorant of the threat. "Really, there is no need for that-"
"Tell me-or you die." Var, driven by fear for Soli, was not bluffing. He was
weak, but this man was obviously untrained for combat. One or two blows would suffice.
"Very well. She is to be sacrificed to Minos."
Var wavered, suddenly feeling his weakness redoubled.
His worst fear had been brutally confirmed. "Why-"
"You were dying. Medical attention is expensive. She agreed to enter the temple-it has to be voluntary, for we are civilized-if we made you well again. Because she will be lovely, and the God likes that, we acceded to the unusual commitment. Today we demonstrated that we kept our bargain, and now she will keep hers."
"She will-die?'
"Yes."
Var dropped the bedpost and sat down, befuddled and horrified. "How-"
"She will be chained to the rock at the entrance to the labyrinth. Minos will come and devour her in his fashion. Then fortune will smile on New Crete for one more month, for our God will be satisfied." -
One last thing Var had to know. "When-"
"Oh, not for a couple of years yet. Your friend is still a child." He glanced obscurely at Var. "Otherwise I dare say she would not have proved eligible."
Var did not follow the man's nuances and did not care to. The relief was as debilitating as the threat. Two years! There were a thousand things he could do to save her in that time.
"Remember, nomad-she made a bargain. Young as she is, she strikes us as a person of integrity. She will not break her vow, that saved your life, no matter what you may do."
And that, Var realized with dismay, was the truth. Soli had always been keen to keep a bargain, any bargain. She didn't object to little ploys, such as passing for a boy or stealing the food they needed to live on, but she liked the formal things to be right.
The man stood up. "I know it is hard for you to accept the ways of an unfamiliar culture, just as I would have trouble adapting to your crazy-circle system of America."
Var noted that the man, despite his prior attitude, did after all know something of nomad existence. Maybe Soli had told him, and he had been verifying it with Var. "But you will find us fair and even generous, if you cooperate with the system. Tomorrow you will be released, and I'll direct you to the employment agency. They will test you for aptitude and provide the individual indicated training. From then on, it is up to you. If you work well, you will eat well."
He left.
Var lay on the bed. He appreciated the efficiency of the system-it had points of similarity to the empire-but he had no intention of letting Soli die.
Still, he did have time to plan carefully. Until he came upon a suitable course of action, he could afford to cooperate.
Var became a trash collector. Because he was ugly and the proffered training perfunctory, he could not aspire to any prestige position. Because he was Illiterate and had poor hands, he could not handle most of the more sophisticated jobs of New Crete, a literate, technological society. And hauling refuse on a daily basis kept him in excellent physical condition. People left him alone because of the dirt and the smell, and that was the way he wanted it too.
He had a room with running water and heat in the winter and even an electric light that snapped on when he yanked at a string and he earned enough of the metal tokens that were "money" to purchase clothing and regular meals and occasional entertainment.
It was a year before he discoveyed just how valuable his golden bracelet of manhood was here. He had thought it would bring a few of their silver tokens, but the truth was that had it been appraised and sold it would have paid for all his initial hospitalization. Gold, so common in the crazy demesnes, was at a premium here, for they used it in their machinery in ways be did not understand. Soli must have suspected this-yet sold herself into the temple rather than take advantage of it.
Her generosity had been foolish. A man wore the bracelet only to give it to the woman of his choice. What could she care whether he wore it? He had no woman to give it to.
By day Var cooperated and had no trouble. By night he stripped his conventional clothing, dressed in warm rags, and ranged barefoot in the wilderness regions Of New Crete. The island was large-at least twenty miles across- and he was able to explore it without disturbing the inhabitants, and to practice his weaponry. He made himself a fine set of sticks from seasoned wood, and became as proficient with them as he had ever been in the circle with the metal ones. It was not the implement but the skill of the hand that counted. He learned the lay of the land, and even ventured some distance into the, dark tunnel that left the island on the west. It was clogged with refuse; no mechanical sweepers cleaned~ it, and it bad been used as a dump.
And he scouted the temple preserve. This was a walled enclosure between one and two miles in diameter, patrolled but not heavily. Var had no problem sneaking in. Every day the maidens were exercised, Soli among them, and Var observed that she was well cared for. Every month at full moon one of the older ones was taken to a canyon and chained there. Next evening she would be gone. Var never actually saw the God Minos, because the God struck not by the light of that full moon, oddly, but by day. The maidens were put out before dawn and remained as it grew light. Var could not do so; he had to work by day, every day, and had~he remained in the compound he would have run the double risk of absence at his assigned location and discovery at his forbidden location.
In the second year he built a boat. Not a good one, not nearly as good as the amazon one they had arrived in (what bad happened to it? Why hadn't that value been charged against his medical bill?) and certainly not one he would trust to the open seas. Even if he were sailor enough to manage it. But the craft would do to spirit Soli away and hide her until better arrangements could be made. First he bad to save her from Minos.
For if she were chained in the canyon for the God, then rescued, her bargain would be complete. She would have offered herself in sacrifice and found unexpected reprieve. All he had to do was stop Minos from eating her, then take her away, and the temple would never know the difference.
The morning came. Var was watching, for he knew the monthly date of the ceremony (he could look at the moon as well as a peed could) and had been aware that her turn was incipient. Most of the girls were now younger than she, and the temple did not provide board and keep longer than necessary. This was the day he would not go on his rounds-indeed, not ever again.
Soli, grown barely nubile in two years, was taken by hooded priests to the canyon and - anchored there. The men Var could not be certain of their sex, but assumed this was man's business-hammered spiked shackles into the stone. Soli's slender wrists were pinned within them at shoulder height. She was naked, her lustrous black hair falling down around her shoulders, her small breasts standing erect, her rather well-fleshed thighs flexing nervously as she fidgeted about.
Var felt an acute pang. Soli now looked very much indeed like her natural mother Sola. Once her hips and breasts filled out completely-But what would never happen unless he saved her from the sacrifice.
Var lurked in the trees as the priests departed. He waited half an hour, making sure they would not return and that no other parties were watching. The canyon face was shielded from the direct view of the temple, probably intentionally and mercifully for the remaining maidens. Var now knew how most of them came here: they volunteered in order to spare their families hunger, for there were many poor people on the island. They-who-won't-work-won't-eat philosophy was a thin cover for subjugation of the unfortunate. The wage that had been adequate for Var was not enough for a family, so there was continual and large-scale distress. The way of the crazies and the nomads was better, for no one hungered in America.
Assured that he was unobserved, Var let fly his random philosophies, emerged from hiding, and entered the canyon. Soli heard him and looked up with a poignant little cry of dismay, thinking the god had come already. Then she gasped. "Var"
He approached and put his hand to one manacle. "i never forgot you," he said. "Did you think I would let you be eaten?'
But the bond was tight, and he had no leverage to pry it
loose.
"I-" she started, her eyes suddenly streaming. . "I thank you, Var. But I can't go with you. I made a vow."
"You fulfilled it" He cast about for some way to get the metal out of the stone. Why hadn't he anticipated this detail?
"No. Not until-the sacrifice," she said.
Var yanked at the other manacle. There seemed to be some give in it.
"I can't let you do this," she said through her tears.
Var ignored her and continued to work on the metal. His sticks would not pry it, being too thick to squeeze in beside her wrist, and the outside offered no purchase. He might hammer the metal with a stone-but the sound would bring the priests-or Minos himself.
Then he was thrown back.
Soli had raised her bare foot and shoved him hard in the chest. Now he understood: she meant it. She would resist him physically not permitting him to labor on the bonds.
That meant he could not free her unless he knocked her out. And what kind of cooperation would she give him thereafter, if he violated her oath by such force?
In any event, he could not bring himself to strike her. Anyone else, yes; Soli, no.
He stood up and faced her. "Then I'll go slay Minos," he said.
"No!" she screamed in horror. "He's a beast! No one can hurt him!"
"I have sworn to kill the man who harms Sola's child," Var said. "I swore it long before you made your oath. Would you have me wait until after the-after the creature comes?"
"But Minos is a god, not a man! You can't kill him!"
"He devours maidens-but he's not a beast?" Then he was ashamed of his irony with her. "Whatever he is, I must meet him-unless you come with me now."
"I can't."
Var saw that further argument was useless. He marched down the canyon into the labyrinth, heedless of her low cries.
There was a large, open cave where the walls merged. From its rear several smaller passages opened. Van held his sticks up and went cautiously into one.