Cat Country (11 page)

Scorpion had had the foresight to send emissaries on ahead to write all these things so that he might enjoy them as he went by.

We passed through several small villages where the inhabitants all sat leaning against broken walls. When the cat-soldiers passed in front of them, they all closed their eyes, not even daring to take so much as a peek. If they are afraid of the soldiers, I thought, why don’t they hide? Or if they aren’t afraid, why is it that they don’t dare to open their eyes? I just couldn’t figure it out. But when I took a closer look, I began to understand. These were, it turned out, members of the village welcoming committee. I could tell because there were large characters written on the fine grey hair on their heads. One character on each man’s head, so that several of them together formed such phrases as WELCOME SCORPION! Because the words had been written some time before by one of Scorpion’s advance emissaries, the characters were already somewhat faded and indistinct. Although the villagers all sat with their eyes closed, Scorpion still nodded towards them in appreciation of the welcome, just as though the whole thing were for real. These villagers were all under the ‘protection’ of Scorpion. The run-down and filthy condition of the village, the emaciated, filthy, listless condition of the inhabitants all testified to how well their protector had fulfilled his responsibilities. I began to hate Scorpion even more than before.

Had I been alone, I probably could have made the journey to Cat City in half a day. Travelling with cat-soldiers, however, is the most rigorous test of one’s patience that can possibly be imagined. I well knew that the Cat People could, in fact, travel with great speed, but not when they’re serving as soldiers. For the faster a cat-soldier gets to the front, the sooner he dies. Therefore the cat-troops were all well known for being slow and deliberate. They would march calmly and slowly to the front as if half asleep, but when they closed with the enemy, their tempo would suddenly switch from largo to allegro as they took off in the opposite direction.

It was somewhat past one in the afternoon. Although there were a few black clouds in the sky, the sun was as hot as ever. The mouths of the soldiers hung wide open and their fine hair was matted against their bodies with sweat. I had never seen a less presentable body of troops. There was a reverie forest off in the distance and Scorpion issued an order taking us somewhat off our course so we might pass through it. I thought Scorpion was at last beginning to show some consideration for his men and planned to let them rest for a while once we got to the forest.

When we were almost there, Scorpion rolled down off his bearers and came over to confer with me. Would I be willing to help him plunder this forest? ‘It’s really not all that important that we make off with a few reverie leaves, but it would be most beneficial to give the troops a little combat experience,’ he said. Before answering him, I looked around at the troops. I could tell from the leers on their faces that every last one of them knew what Scorpion had in mind. A few minutes ago they had looked totally exhausted, but now they didn’t seem to be the least bit tired. It would seem that looting the countryside is exactly what the Cat Soldiers are best cut out to do, I thought to myself. I realised that if I interfered with Scorpion’s contemplated raid, the troops would hate me even more than they did Scorpion. Although I could probably control the whole lot of them for a time with my revolver, if they really wanted to do me violence, there was just too many of them. Anyway, I thought to myself, the Cat People seem to consider mutual plunder an entirely reasonable form of behaviour, so why should I interfere? Besides, even if I did stand up against them in the name of righteousness, who would be there to know about it and admire me for it? Apparently I too had been infected by the thinking of the Cat People, for of late my courage was often weakened by thoughts of preserving my own peace and security. I told Scorpion to do as he pleased.

I was well aware that this was a kind of backing down, but I hadn’t realised that by giving Scorpion an inch, I’d encourage him to take a mile: he immediately asked if I would be willing to take command of the raid. This I unhesitatingly refused. ‘Go ahead and plunder the place if you want to. I won’t stop you, but I won’t help you either!’As soon as we started moving towards the reverie forest, the troops seemed to smell plunder in the air, for without even waiting for Scorpion’s order, they all set their bales on the ground and took a firm hold of their clubs. In fact, some of them had already run forward to attack. I had never before seen Scorpion display so much nerve. Although he didn’t lead the foray in person, he did manage to look quite martial and even dashing. His eyes were wide and round and every fine hair on his head was standing on end. At a single wave of his club, the troops rushed en masse towards the forest. When they arrived, they began circling about the perimeter in a provocative manner, as though they were trying to lure the guards out. They circled it three times, but there was no sound from within. Scorpion smiled, and with a loud cry, the troops hurled themselves into the forest.

Terrible cries issued from within. Scorpion’s eyes were not quite so round now, and he even blinked a few times. Suddenly, his troops were in full rout! Their clubs were gone and they were pounding their heads with both hands while screaming like banshees, ‘Foreigners! Foreigners!’Although Scorpion didn’t seem to believe it, he didn’t look quite as bold and full of derring-do as he had a few minutes previously. He just kept mumbling, ‘Foreigners? There can’t be any foreigners!’ At this point figures rushed out of the forest in hot pursuit of Scorpion’s men. Now Scorpion was really scared. ‘My God, there really are foreigners in there!’ More figures came streaming from the forest. The two who seemed to be leading were tall and covered in white hair. Each of them carried a shiny club in his hand. I assumed that they must be foreigners, for the clubs they carried appeared to be made of a steel-like material far beyond the technology of Cat Country. I began to feel a bit uneasy myself. What if Scorpion should ask me to go and stop the two foreigners? How did I know exactly what those shiny clubs in their hands could do? And yet, even though plundering the reverie forest had not been my idea, I was, after all, Scorpion’s bodyguard. If I stood by and watched him suffer defeat without making any attempt to save him, at the very least I would lose status. Besides, my entire future in Cat Country depended on my relationship with him.

‘Hurry up and stop them!’ Scorpion cried. ‘Hurry!’

I knew that this was a question of duty that would admit no excuse, so there was no point in hesitating. I pulled out my revolver and approached the foreigners. Much to my surprise, when the two white-furred soldiers saw me coming forward, they stopped advancing. Then Scorpion ran over to join us, and I knew that the danger was past. ‘Make peace! Make peace!’ Scorpion whispered from behind. Now I was really at a loss. Why didn’t he tell me to fight them? Make peace? How? This turned out to be much easier than I anticipated, for in the midst of my confusion, the two white-furred soldiers spoke. ‘You are hereby fined six bales of reverie leaves, to be disposed by the three of us as we see fit!’ I looked all around, there were only two of them. What did he mean by three? Scorpion stood behind me and urged in low tones, ‘Make terms.’ Not knowing what else to do, like a simpleton I said right back to them, ‘You are fined six bales of reverie leaves to be disposed of by the three of us as we see fit!’ When the two white men heard me say this, they smiled and nodded their heads as though they were very satisfied with my terms. I, on the other hand, was totally mystified by their reaction. Scorpion sighed and ordered his troops to bring up six bales of reverie leaves. When the six bales were on the ground before us, the two white-furred soldiers very politely invited me to pick out the first two. Only then did I realise that in saying ‘three’ they were including me. I was equally courteous in return and asked them to choose first. They picked out four at random and handed them over to the Cat Country soldiers under their command. Then they said to me, ‘Our leaves are almost harvested too. See you in Cat City!’ Without further ado, they went back into the forest.

I was utterly confused and didn’t know what to think. What kinds of tricks were being played here? It wasn’t until after I arrived in Cat City and questioned the foreigners that I understood the full ramifications of what had happened. The Cat People were no match for foreigners; thus, their only hope was that foreigners would fight among themselves. It would have required a tremendous amount of effort for the Cat People to make themselves strong, and they were much too clever to be dumb enough to do that much work. It was much easier to pray to the Great Spirit to make the foreigners slaughter each other so that the Cat People might make a strength of Cat Country’s weakness, or perhaps one ought to say, make the foreigners as weak as themselves.

The foreigners well understood this and, although they often had conflicts of interest in Cat Country, they would never be willing to fight each other and let the Cat People take advantage of their quarrels. They saw very clearly that if they allowed disputes to arise amongst themselves, it would be a case of pitching one sharp sword against another so that even the victorious one would suffer great loss. If, on the other hand, the foreigners united in bullying the Cat People, they could gain great profit without suffering the slightest loss. They not only honoured this principle in the conduct of their international relations, but also as single individuals working in Cat Country.

Protecting the reverie forests was a good occupation for the foreigners. By agreement, they were responsible for protecting the Cat Country landlords from their own people. If it so happened that there were foreigners protecting the landlords, then neither side was permitted to infringe upon the rights of the other. If this condition were not honoured, then the foreign guardians from both sides were to meet in solemn conclave and decide on the punishment to be meted out to the landlords. Thus, not only was it possible to avoid disputes arising between foreigners because of the Cat People’s affairs, but it was also possible to preserve the superior status of the guardians. Thus they would never be used by the Cat People.

If you looked at it from the point of view of the foreign guardians, this was really a pretty good system. But from the Cat People’s point of view . . . Almost despite myself, I began to feel sympathy for all the Scorpions of Mars. But then it occurred to me that the Scorpions all seemed more than willing to accept this kind of treatment; they didn’t seem to want to make themselves strong. They seemed to prefer inviting the foreigners in to bully their own people. Then whose fault was it after all? Only people who have an equal share of guts can respect each other, and the people of Cat Country had simply lost theirs. No wonder other people toyed with them so much. For several days I couldn’t get these disturbing thoughts out of my mind.

Going back a bit, after Scorpion had been punished, he continued on to Cat City as though nothing had happened. Rather than having the slightest expression of shame on his face, he looked as though he had just returned from a great victory. The only thing he said to me was that if I didn’t want those two bales of reverie leaves – he knew that I really didn’t like reverie leaves all that much – he’d be willing to buy them back from me for thirty National Souls. I was certain that this quantity of reverie leaves was worth at least three hundred National Souls, but I didn’t say whether I would sell them or not. I didn’t want to lower myself by paying any attention at all to such a gutless coward. I didn’t so much as favour him with a growl of contempt. When the sun was on the western horizon, Cat City came into view.

THE CAPITAL OF CAT COUNTRY

A
S SOON
as I set eyes on Cat City, for some reason or other, a sentence took form in my mind: this civilisation will soon perish! It certainly wasn’t because I knew all there was to know about the civilisation of Cat Country that I thought this – the experience I had in the reverie forest had only been enough to stimulate my curiosity and make me want to understand everything. Nor was it because I viewed the civilisation of Cat Country as a mere tragic interlude prepared for my entertainment and diversion. It was rather that I had hoped to utilise my sojourn in Cat Country to fully comprehend the inner workings of at least this one civilisation and thus enrich my experience of life. I knew that it was possible that a whole civilisation or even a whole race might perish, for the history of mankind on my own planet, Earth, was not entirely wreathed in roses. And since perusing the history of mankind had been at times enough to make me shed tears, imagine my feelings at the prospect of seeing a civilisation breathe its last before my very eyes!

The life of a man, like a candle, seems to glow again with its former brilliance just before going out; similarly, an entire civilisation on the point of extinction is not without a final, ephemeral splendour. And yet there is a difference: a civilisation on the edge of oblivion is not so conscious of its own imminent demise as is a lone man. It is almost as though the creative process itself had marked the civilisation for extinction so that the good – and there are always a few good people left, even in a country that’s about to expire – suffer the same fate as the evil. And perhaps in such a civilisation, the few good people left will begin to experience a certain shortness of breath, will begin to draw up their wills, and will even moan over the impending fate of their civilisation. But their sad cries, matched against the funeral dirge of their own death-bound culture, will be but as the chirps of lingering cicadas against a cruel autumn wind.

And while Cat City was full of life, behind this lively façade one was conscious of a skeletal hand, a hand that seemed ever ready to tear the skin and flesh away from the Cat People to leave nothing but a wasteland of bleached bones. And yet, despite all of this, Cat City was one of the liveliest places I have ever seen.