Footfall (34 page)

It was the sound made by lost children.

Frightening. Why do I feel the urge to join my voice to theirs?

“We no longer know who we are, Herdmaster,” Chintithpitmang blurted. “Why are we here?”

“We bear the thuktunthp.”

“The creatures do not seek the thuktunthp. They have their own way.” Chintithpit-mang insisted.

“If they do not know the thuktunthp, how can they know they do not seek them?” Could this one be worthy of promotion? Are any? Shall I ask him to remain? No. Now is not the time to judge him, fresh from battle and still twitching, injured, and plunged suddenly into the scents of blooming Winter Flower and sleeper females in heat. “Chintithpit-mang, you need time and rest to recover from your experience. Go now. All of you, go.”

For one moment they stood. Then they filed away.

The Herdmaster remained in the Garden, trying to savor its peace.

Chintithpit-mang did not now seem a candidate for high office. Another dissident! Yet he had fought well on Winterhome; his record was exemplary. Give him a few days. Meanwhile, interview his mate. Then see if she could pull him together. He didn’t remember Shreshleemang well… though the mang family was a good line. At a Shipmaster’s rank the female muss be suitable and competent.

Where was Fathisteh-tulk? Murdered or kidnapped. He had suspected the Year Zero Fithp, but that now seemed unlikely. They were nervous, disturbed, as well they should be; but not nervous enough. They could not have hidden that from him. Who, then, had caused the Herdmaster’s Advisor to vanish? How many? Of what leaning? He might face a herd too large to fear the justice of the Traveler Herd; though the secrecy with which they had acted argued against it.

There were herds within herds within the Traveler Herd. It must have been like this on the Homeworld too, though in greater, deeper, more fantastical variety. Even here: sleepers, spaceborn, dissidents; Fistarteh-thuktun’s core of tradition-minded historians, the Breakers’ group driving themselves mad while trying to think like alien beings: the Herdmaster must balance them like a pyramid of smooth rocks in varying thrust.

“He is late,” Dmitri whispered. “We must go.”

“Not yet. We will wait for him,” Arvid Rogachev said.

“But—”

“We will wait.”

Dmitri shrugged.

He obeys me because he has no choice, ye: he considers himself my superior. Perhaps he is. He is a better sn-ate gist.

There was a rustle behind them, and Nikolai’s legless form appeared from a lateral shaft. He fell to the corridor between them, catching himself with his arms just before he struck the deck. Once more Arvid marveled at how agile a legless man could be in low gravity.

“Whert have you been?” Dmitri demanded.

Nikolai ignored him and turned to Arvid. “Comrade Commander, I have success,” he said.

“Come.” Arvid led the way out of the air shaft. They took their time about attaching the grill covers. Arvid worked in silence. Although he didn’t feel especially tired, he thought of how exhausted he was, and presently he felt it. Be wary. Do not let them know our true strength. Dmitri says this. I am beginning to think like KGB now. Is this good?

“I have seen women,” Nikolai said in an undertone.

“Ah,” Dmitri said.

Arvid felt a twinge. Women! I have been long in space — “Where?”

“In the center of the ship, in a garden area, Comrade Commander. They were with the American, Dawson.”

Dawson! How has he deserved this — “The newly arrived warriors,” Dmitri said. “They came with those. New prisoners from Earth. Were they Russian?”

“No, Comrade Colonel. They were by their dress American. There were children also. Three women, two children, a man, and Dawson. I could not know what they were saying.”

Nikolai lifted the heavy grill. Crippled, Arvid thought. He has more strength in his arms than I have in my legs.

“Tell us,” Dmitri said.

“As you ordered, I explored farther than ever before. At first I took each turn that presented itself. There are grills everywhere. There are radial ducts. Some ducts are too small even for me, but” — Nikolai stretched his antis above his head, exhaled completely, and grinned. — “I can make myself narrow.

“The fore end of Thuktun Flishithy is too far. We expect to find the bridge there, but I made no try to reach it. I saw a big mom full of sleeping fithp, all females, sleeping with all four feet gripping the wall rugs, like gigantic fleas. I saw a slaughterhouse or a kitchen. Fithp were cutting up plants and animal parts and— and arranging them, but there was nothing like a stove.

“I tired of this and went inward along radial ducts. I found the room of the Podo Thuktun, and the priest all alone at the television screen. He muttered to himself, too tow to understand. I found the greetthouse region. It is lighted. It was there that I saw Dawson and the newcomers. They were all at work planting things. The garden is at the center of the ship. There were many fithp.

“I saw no need to watch Dawson longer, and I had little time, so I continued aft. I found what may be a bridge aft of the greenhouse. No ducts run aft of that point. It may be an engine room, serving the main drive, but it is also an emergency bridge.”

“Da,” Dmitn said. “At the axis it would be quite safe, like the Podo Thuktun. So?”

“The room is circled by television screens, square and thick, with the same proportions as the Podo Thuktun. I saw our prison, empty, of course. I saw Dawson and one of the newcomers, a redhaired woman, working in the garden. They worked together, but they ignored each other. I saw you, Comrade Rogachev. Heh-hehheh. Very industrious you looked.”

“Go on,” Arvid said,

“There was much on those screens. One showed three of the fithp watching a viewscreen. On the screen they were watching, were scenes of a man and a woman-Comrades, the man had an enormous pecker, and she swallowed it, all of it.”

“What is this?’ Dmitri asked sharply.

“I have told you what I saw,” Nikolai said. “On one viewscreen were three fithp who watched a viewscreen. On that viewscreen was that scene, and others like it.”

“What else did the woman do?” Arvid asked.

“Nonsense,” Dmitri hissed. “What did the fithp do when they saw this?”

“Comrade Colonel, they must have found it interesting, because they rewound the tape and watched it again. Then they spoke among themselves, and spoke into communications equipment.”

“So,” Dmitri said to himself.

“What?” Arvid demanded.

“I do not know why, but I find it disturbing,” Dmitri said. “Did you see who they spoke with?”

“No. Soon that screen was blank. I waited, but there was no more. Then when I was ready to leave, I saw two views of the main control room, and there is a window, so it must be at the fore end. I knew there must be other screens, so I circled through the ducts for another view.” Nikolai’s voice had dropped until he was nearly whispering. Dmitri and Arvid crowded close. They pretended to have difficulty replacing the fastenings for the grill.

“I saw outside. Four screens in a row. Three look at the stars, and the views move back and forth. So does the fourth, but it looks out on black rock. At one end of its swing the screen looks along the hull of Thu ktun Flishithy. The fore end is right up against the rock,

“Do you remember the films they showed us? Thu ktun Flishithy leaving that other star? The nose was up against a kind of ball, pushing it. Now it is against black rock that has been carved like the kind of sculpture the Americans in New York are so fond of, twisted shapes that tell nothing.”

Arvid said, “So they have an asteroid base.”

“But they are pushing it,” Dmitri said. “Can’t you feel it?”

The hum of the drive: he had learned to ignore it, but it was there.”

Pushing it-yes. Where? I cannot think we will like the answer. So, Nikolai, you saw along the hull. Was it smooth, or was there detail?”

“I was lucky. One of the star-views turned to look sideways at an oval hatch. It opened while I watched, and a big metal snake uncoiled. Then the view shifted, and it was a view from the head of the snake, looking at another metal snake as it coiled itself into its own hatch. Then it turned and looked back along the hull. I saw quite a lot before it turned again and looked at nothing but stars. Aft of the ship is a violet-white haze. Ships are mounted along the rim, big ships, but there were many empty mountings.”

“Empty. Good,” Dmitri said. “Perhaps ships we have destroyed.”

“And perhaps ships that remain to attack our world,” Arvid said. “You have done well, Nikolai.”

Women! It has been long…

The Herdmaster paused at the door. More problems awaited him inside. At least I will no longer have the strange views of Fathisteh-tulk to confound me. One of the guards moved to open the door.

Where can he be? He must be dead. A secret corpse, and a key to more terrible secrets. “Thiparteth-fuft!”

“Lead me, Herdmaster.”

“Have the funeral pits searched. I am certain that the Advisor is dead, and I wish to know how he died.”

“At once”

Dead or not, I had no choice. Pastempeh-keph trampled conflicting feelings deep into the muddy substrate of his mind. The Traveler Herd must continue, and without an Advisor no decisions are possible. A replacement was needed. I have found one. Why am I so disturbed?

Siplisteph is a good choice. He has been to Winterhome. He commanded spaceborn, and they accepted his leadership. The sleeper females acclaimed him even though he is not mated. Now he must mate—  Pastempeh-keph thought of eligible females. There are so few. Would the sleepers accept a spaceborn mare for the Advisor? That would go far toward uniting the Traveler Herd.

The door opened. Pastempeh-keph moved decisively into the theater. He need not have bothered to compose himself. Siplisteph, Raztupisp-minz, and Fistarteh-thuktun were shoulder to shoulder before the projection wall. They did not look up.

Thiparteth-fuft lifted his snnfp to bellow for attention, but the Herdmaster laid his digits across the guard officer’s forehead. “There is no need. Come, let us see what so fascinates them.”

The equipment had come from Winterhome; the only fithp equipment was a makeshift transformer to mate the human recording machines to Message Bearer’s current.

The Herdfnaster stood behind them. The forward and inward walls were a smooth white curve, a screen that would serve under thrust or spin. Advisor, breaker, and priest were in agitated argument. Their waving digits made shadows on the forward wall, where two humans similarly waved their arms and bellowed, trumpeted, a sound no fi’ could have matched. To fithp ears it seemed a song of rage and distress. Their clothes were thick, layered, a padding against cold. The male waved something small and sharp that glittered.

“At last my digits are whole again,” Raztupisp-minz translated.

“Meaning?” the Herdmaster asked.

The three fithp turned quickly. “Your pardon,” the Breaker said. “I did not hear you enter.”

“No matter. I ask again, what was the meaning of what the human said?”

“None. He was not crippled.” Raztupisp-minz turned back to the screen.

The Ilerdmaster waited. The humans on the screen huddled, conspired, all in that ear-splintering keening voice. “Have you ever heard them speak like that?” the Herdmaster demanded.

“Once. Nikolai, the legless one, spoke like that at length once, but far more softly. They call it singing.”

“What are they building?”

Breaker-One Raztupisp-minz only folded his digits across his scalp.

“The other recordings,” Raztupisp-minz demanded. “Siplisteph, you have brought others.”

Siplisteph only needed a moment to change tapes.

The four humans looked soft and vulnerable without their clothing. Two patches of fur apiece only pointed up their nakedness. Alien music played eerily across fithp nerves. “Mating.” Said Breaker-One, “Odd. I had the idea they sought privacy when they did that. Herdmaster, that isn’t the female’s genital area at all!”

“But that is the male’s.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never seen it in that state… but of course they usually cover themselves. Does it seem to you that she might harm him accidentally?”

The priest spoke. “Why would they record this? Advisor, where was this found?”

“All tapes came from two sources, a building that displayed 83 of such, and one room of a dwelling. They’re marked. Ah, this came from the dwelling.”

The scene had shifted. Here was the same female and a different male, both covered. Not for long. Raztupisp-minz said, “I don’t see how children could be born of this. Yet they seem to think they’re mating… Ah, that seems more likely. Could we be viewing an instnction tape? Might humans need instruction on how to mate?”

“A ridiculous suggestion,” the priest scoffed. “What animal does not know how to mate?”

“Entertainment,” Siplisteph said. “So I was told by one who surrendered.”

“You are certain?” Breaker-one asked.

“No. I know too little of their language.”

Fistarteh-thuktun continued to stare at the screen. “I… I think there can be no good reason for such an entertainment.”

The Herdmaster moved forward to join Siplisteph, It was irritating that his Advisor must here perform two functions at once. “You have been to Winterhome. You have seen thousands of humans, more than any of us. Have you formed opinions?”

“None. Nowhere in these tapes do humans act as I have seen them act. I wonder if they act the part of something other than humans. Not Predecessors, but… there are words, god and archetype.”

“They could hardly pretend to be ready to mate. Show me the first one again,” the Herdmaster said. And presently he asked, “Did we just witness a killing? Show that segment again.”

Siplisteph did. An arm swung; the man in the strange chair mimed agony; the chair tilted and the man fell backward through the floor. “They never die so calmly,” the new Advisor said. “They fight until they cannot.”

“The neck is very vulnerable,” Raztupisp-minz objected. “A nerve trunk could be cut — but the fat one would then be a rogue. Why does the female associate with him? Could a pair of rogues form their own herd?”

“You are quiet, Fistarteh-thuktun. What do you believe of this?”

The priest splayed his digits wide. “Herdmaster, I learn. Later I will speak.”

“You do not seem pleased”

There was no answer.

“A place of puzzles,” Pastempeh-keph said. “They surrender and have not surrendered. Their tapes show rogues acting in collusion. They live neither in herds nor alone. What are they?”

“What do they believe themselves to be?” Fistarteh-thuktun asked. “Perhaps that is more important.”

“An interesting question,” Raztupisp-minz said quietly.

Pastempeh-keph bellowed, “1 want answers! I have enough interesting questions to keep me busy, thank you very much. Razwpisp-minz, bring them all. All humans, here, now.”

“Herdmaster, is this wise? Bring just one. I want to keep them separate as we study—”

“Bring them!”

“At your orders, Herdmaster.”

Raztupisp-minz waited. This is the moment, if there is to be any challenge.

There was none. Raztupisp-minz turned to the communications speaker on one wall.

Gary and Melissa were bounding around the cell in an elaborate game of tag. The rules weren’t apparent, but it was obvious that the game couldn’t have been played in normal gravity.

Jeri Wilson lay against the “down” wall and hugged her knees. She was wishing that the children would stop, and glad that they didn’t. They were all right. Prisoners of monsters, far from home, falling endlessly: they were taking it well.

Stop feeling so damned sorry for yourself! Hell, if Gary can take it, you sure can. Next you’ll be whimpering. Jeri turned her head within her arms. No. We don’t want Melissa to hear that.

John Woodward lay near by. He’s trying, but it’s like he’s fading out. Carrie’s all that keeps him going.

It’s the toilets. I could stand anything, if they’d just give us a decent toilet. We’re not built to use a stupid pool of water, with everyone watching.

She heard the low-pitched hum that signaled the door was opening. By the time it was open, the tag game was over; by tacit agreement they were all together opposite the doorway.

Jeri recognized Tashayamp. Behind her was a full octuple of warriors, all armed. They don’t bring guards unless they’re taking us somewhere, Jeri thought. But they don’t always bring them then, either. We’ve gone places with no one but Tashayamp or one of the other teachers. So why do they sometimes have armed guards? It’s like Melissa’s tag game. There are rules. I just don’t know them.

“All come,” Tashayamp directed in the fithp tongue.

“Where?” Wes Dawson demanded.

“Come.” Tashayamp turned to lead the way out. “Right,” Jeri said. She uncurled, and dove across the pens. “Come on, Melissa.”

The others followed, with Dawson bringing up the rear. Tashayamp led them through corridors toward We center of the ship.

They entered a large, nearly rectangular room, with huge steps around three sides. Machinery had been set up near the fourth wall. Four fithp watched them without comment.

Tashayamp followed them in. The eight fithp soldiers stayed in the corridor. Dawson moved up beside Jeri and said, “Theater. We’ve been here.”

“No seats,” Jeri said, then laughed at a mental picture of a fi’ collapsing a beach chair. “Of course, no seats. What’s… ah. That videotape machine must have come from Kansas.”

“The one in the fancy harness, he’s a priest or librarian or both. The one at the top of the stairs is the big boss. They call him the Herdmaster, something like that.” Dawson imitated the flthp sound. “The other two are teachers. At least I call them that, they’re supposed to teach us, but they don’t always, so I’m not sure. Every, time I think I understand them, something else happens, and—”

The door opened again, to let in three men in coveralls. One had no legs, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

Russians. That stocky one was on TV before the snouts came. I thought he was handsome — “Arvid Rogachev, Dmitri something or another, and the one with no legs is Nikolai. I never heard them call him anything else,” Dawson said.

Rogachev. He looks even better in person. Wes Dawson is a bit of a wimp compared to him.

And what does that mean? Am I looking for a big strong man to take care of me?

Would that be such a bad idea?

“You will watch,” Tashayamp said. She bellowed something infithpl

The scree’n lit up. Jeri caught a glimpse of the lead-in.

“What is this?” Jeri asked.

Carrie Woodward had a puzzled look. “John, didn’t we hear something about that movie?”

The Russian Dawson had called Dmitri frowned. The other one seemed amused. “For this they have taken casualties?”

The screen raced past the titles to the sex scenes. Then it slowed to show Linda Lovelace doing her stuff in living color.

Carrie Wood ward watched just long enough to be sure of what she was seeing. “Gary! Melissa! Come here. You’re not to watch this. Come—”

Gary Capehart went to her at once. Melissa looked doubtful. “You come here, young lady. Now.” Carrie was insistent. Melissa looked to her mother for guidance.

O Lord. Now what? “Melissa, do as she says.”

“Aw, Mom—”

“Now.”

Carrie gathered the children to her ample bosom. “How dare you’?” she shouted. “Don’t you critters have any sense of decency at all? No shame?’

The Herdmaster trumpeted something. Tashayamp replied.

Now what kind of trouble has she got us into?

“What is your difficulty?” Tashayamp demanded. “Why have you done this?’

“You know perfectly well it’s not decent to show pictures like that.”

“Mrs. Woodward,” Dawson said. “They don’t think the way we do—”

“And of course you’ve seen worse,” Carrie said. She faced away from the screens, away from the Herdmaster. That left her facing the Russians. “I leave it to you, is this decent for children?” she demanded of them.

“Not at all,” Arvid agreed. Dmitri said something harsh in Russian.

“Bad-worse,” Tashayamp said. “What does it mean, ‘bad’? Why is this bad?”

“I think they really don’t know, Mother,” John Woodward said. His voice held wonder, “They really don’t.”

“I was trying to tell you,” Dawson said.

“You keep out of it. You don’t know either,” John Woodward said. “Your kind never did.”

All of the snouts were talking at once until the Herdmaster trumpeted. They fell silent instantly.

“I keep telling you they don’t see things as we do,” Dawson said. His voice rang loudly in the silence. “John, they didn’t make these movies. They found them in Kansas, Remember that.” John Woodward interrupted him, then Canie started to say something—

One of the teachers trumpeted.

“Raztupisp-minz commands that you speak one at a time,” Tashayamp said.

“There are many meanings of good and bad,” Dawson began. The teacher said something else.

“Not to begin with you,” Tashayamp said. She pointed to the Russians. “What is bad about this?”

“Filth. Typical capitalist garbage for the mind,” Dmitri said. “Why does this surprise anyone? The capitalist system caters to anyone with money, and inevitably produces decadence.”

“It’s freedom of speech!” Dawson shouted. “I don’t like it, but I don’t have to. If we start shutting people’s mouths, where—”

“Not we,” Carrie Woodward said. “We’d lock up the people that peddle that filth if it wasn’t for you federal people. We had a nice, decent town until your judges and your laws came.”

The two teachers were both speaking at once until the Herdmaster intervened. Tashayamp spoke at length, obviously trailslating since she used several human words. What can they make of this? What do 1 make of it? Jeri wondered.

“You believe this bad,” Tashayamp said. “You, all, show digits extended if you believe bad.”

The Woodwards showed palms up held at arm’s length. Then the Russians. Jeri held her hand out. What do! believe? I don’t really want Melissa watching this stuff. She might get the wrong idea about what men and women are supposed to do. Women aren’t toys. Free speech and all that, but, yes, I guess I’d be happier if they still had laws against pornography. Less ammunition for perverts…