Planet of Adventure Omnibus (76 page)

“And the
Pnumekin: how do they fit into the picture?”

“The ‘persons’?
Long ago the
zuzhma kastchai
gave refuge to certain men from the
surface, with some females and some mother-women. The ‘persons’ proved their
diligence by polishing stones and perfecting crystals. The
zuzhma kastchai
provided peace, and so it has been, for all the ages.”

“And where
did men come from originally, do you know this?”

Zap 210 was
uninterested. “From the
ghian
, where else?”

“Do they
teach you of the sun and the stars and the other worlds of space?”

“They teach
what we most want to learn, which is decorum and good conduct.” She heaved a
small sigh. “That is all behind me and gone; how the others would marvel at me
now!”

So far as
Reith could comprehend, Zap 210’s principal emotion appeared to be for her own
indecorous conduct.

The barge
moved on. Blue glimmer appeared ahead, waxed to become a glare and pass
overhead, with a new blue glimmer far in the distance. Reith became stale and
restless. Darkness was almost complete, relieved only by a vague glow from the bow
apron forward. The feminine voice of Zap 210, herself only a blur, began to
work upon his imagination; certain of her mannerisms took on the semblance of
erotic provocations. Only by conscious rational effort could he maintain his
impersonality. How, he would ask himself, could she provoke or tease when she
was totally unaware of the male-female relationship? Any urgings from her
subconscious must seem a peculiar perversion, the most exaggerated form of “boisterous
conduct.” He remembered the vitality of her body when she had clung to him in
the water; he thought of the look of her soaked body; he began to wonder if his
instincts might not be more accurate than his reason. Zap 210, if she felt
anything other than glumness and foreboding, gave no evidence, except a
somewhat greater willingness to talk. For hours she spoke in a low monotone, of
everything she knew. She had lived a remarkably drab life, thought Reith,
without experience of gaiety, excitement, frivolity. He wondered as to the
content of her imaginings, but of this she said nothing. She recognized
differences in the personalities of her fellows: subtle variations of decorum
and discretion which to her assumed the same significance as the more vehement
personality traits of the surface. She was aware of biological differences
between male and female, but apparently had never wondered as to their
justification. All very strange, mused Reith. The Shelters would seem to be an
incubator for a whole congeries of neuroses. Reith dared venture no inquiries;
whenever the conversation skirted such matters, she became instantly taciturn.
Had the Pnume bred sex drive out of the Pnumekin? Did they administer
depressants, drugs, hormones, to eliminate a troublesome tendency to
over-reproduce? Reith asked a few cautious questions, to which Zap 210 gave
such irrelevant and unapposite replies that Reith was sure she didn’t know what
he was talking about. From time to time, Zap 210 admitted, certain persons
found the Shelters too staid; they were sent up to the surface, into the glare,
the blowing winds, the empty nights with all the universe exposed, and never
allowed to return below. “I wonder that I am not more fearful,” she said. “Is
it possible that I have always had Gzhindra tendencies? I have heard that so much
space creates a distraction; I do not wish to be so affected.”

“We’re not on
the surface yet,” said Reith, to which Zap 210 gave a faint shrug, as if the
matter were of no great importance.

Regarding the
reproductive mechanisms of the Pnume she had no sure knowledge; she was
uncertain whether or not the Pnume regarded the matter as secret, though she
suspected as much. As to the relative number of Pnume and Pnumekin she was also
uncertain. “There are probably more
zuzhma kastchai
. But many are never
seen; they keep to the Deep Places, where the precious things are kept.”

“What
precious things?”

Again Zap 210
was vague. “The history of Tschai goes back beyond thought; just so far back go
the records. The
zuzhma kastchai
are meticulous; they know everything
that has ever happened. They consider Tschai to be a great conservatory, where
every item, every tree, every rock is a cherished curio. Now there are
off-world folk on the
ghian
: three different sorts, who have come to
leave their artifacts.”

“Three?”

“The Dirdir,
the Chasch, the Wankh.”

“What of men?”

“‘Men’?” Her
voice took on a dubious tone. “I don’t know. Perhaps men too are off-world. If
so, four peoples sojourn in Tschai. But this has happened before; many times
have strange folk come down to Old Tschai. The
zuzhma kastchai
neither
welcome nor repel; they observe, they watch. They expand their collections;
they fill the museums of Foreverness; they compile their archives.”

Reith began
to see the Pnume in a new light. It seemed that they regarded the surface of
Tschai as a vast theater, on which wonderful millennium-long dramas were played
out: the Old Chasch-Blue Chasch wars; the Dirdir invasion, followed by the
Wankh counter-invasion; the various campaigns, battles, routs, and
exterminations; the building of cities, the subsidence of ruins, the coming and
going of peoples-all of which explained the acquiescence of the Pnume to the
presence of alien races: from the Pnume point of view, they embellished the
history of Tschai. As for Zap 210 herself, Reith asked if she had the same
regard for Tschai. The girl made one of her small apathetic gestures: no, it
meant nothing; she cared little one way or the other. Reith had a sudden
insight into the processes of her psyche. Life for Zap 210 was a somewhat insipid
experience to be tolerated. Fear was reserved for the unfamiliar; joy was
beyond conjecture. He saw his own personality as it must appear to her: abrupt,
brutal, crafty, harsh and unpredictable, in whom the worst excesses of
boisterous conduct must always be feared ... A sad creature, thought Reith,
inoffensive and colorless. Still, remembering the feel of her clinging to his
neck, he wondered. Still waters ran deep. In the dark, with nothing to occupy
his mind, imaginings came to stimulate him and arouse his fervor, whereupon Zap
210, somehow sensing his turmoil, moved uneasily off into the shadows, leaving
Reith sourly amused by the situation. What could be going on in her mind?

Reith
invented a new game. He tried to amuse her. He invented grotesque incidents,
extravagant situations, but Zap 210 was the fairy-tale princess who could not
laugh. Her single pleasure, insofar as Reith could detect, was the sweet-salt
wafer which served as a relish to the otherwise bland food; unfortunately, the
supply of these delicacies was quickly exhausted, a day or two after they had
boarded the barge. Zap 210 was taken aback by the deficiency. “There is always
diko
in our diet-always! Someone has made a foolish mistake!”

Reith had
never seen her quite so emphatic. She became morose, then listless, and refused
to eat anything whatever. Then she became nervous and irritable, and Reith
wondered if perhaps the
diko
contained a habit-forming drug to arouse so
pronounced a craving.

For a period
which might have been three or four days she spoke almost not at all, and kept
as far from Reith as was practicable, as if she held Reith responsible for her
deprivation, which was actually the case, reflected Reith. Had he not blundered
rudely into her cool gray existence, she would be conducting her ordinary
routine, nibbling
diko
whenever she was of a mind. Her sulkiness waned;
she became almost talkative; she seemed to want reassurance, or attention,
or-could it be--affection. So it appeared to Reith, who found the situation as
absurd as any he had known.

On and on
through the dark moved the barge, from blue light to blue light to blue light.
They passed along a chain of underground lakes, through still caverns draped
with stalactites, then for a long period, perhaps three days-along a precisely
straight bore, with the blue lights spaced ten miles apart. The bore gave into
another set of caverns, where they once again saw a few lonesome docks: islands
of dim yellow lights. Then once again the barge rode a straight canal. The
voyage was approaching its end-the feeling was in the air. The crew moved with
a somewhat less deliberate gait, and the passengers on the starboard side went
to stand on the forward apron. Zap 210, returning from the pantry with food,
announced in a dolorous mutter: “We have almost come to Bazhan-Gahai.”

“And where is
this?”

“At the far
side of the Area. We have come a long way.” She added in a soft voice, “It has
been a peaceful time.”

Reith thought
that she spoke with regret. “Is this place near the surface?”

“It is a
trade center for goods from the Stang Islands and Hedaijha.”

Reith was
surprised. “We are far to the north.”

“Yes. But the
zuzhma kastchai
may be waiting for us.”

Reith looked
anxiously ahead, at the far blue guide-light. “Why should they be?”

“I don’t know.
Perhaps they won’t.”

Blue lights,
one after the other: Reith saw them pass with growing tension. He became tired,
and slept; when he awoke, Zap 210 pointed ahead. “Bazhan-Gahai.”

Reith rose to
his feet. Ahead the gloom had lightened; the water showed a far luminous
reflection. With dramatic majesty the tunnel widened; the barge moved forward,
ponderous as fate. The cloaked shapes at the bow stood in silhouette against a
great golden space. Reith felt a lifting of the spirit, a mysterious
exaltation. The voyage which had started in cold and misery was at its end. The
sides of the tunnel-fluted buttresses of raw rock-began to be visible,
illuminated on one side, in black shadow on the other. The golden light was a
blur; beyond, across calm water, white crags rose to a great height. Zap 210
came slowly forward, to stare into the light with a rapt expression. Reith had
almost forgotten what she looked like. The thin face, the pallor, the fragile
bones of jaw and forehead, the straight nose and pale mouth were as he
recalled; additionally he saw an expression to which he could put no name:
sadness, melancholy, haunted foreboding. She felt his gaze and looked at him.
Reith wondered what she saw.

The passage
opened and widened. A lake lay ahead, long and twisting. The barge proceeded
along vistas of uncanny beauty. Small islands broke the black surface; great
gnarled columns of white and gray rose to the vaulted ceiling far above. Half a
mile ahead, under a beetling overhang, a dock became visible. From an unseen
opening a shaft of golden light slanted into the cavern.

Reith could
hardly speak for emotion. “Sunlight!” he finally croaked.

The barge
eased forward, toward the dock. Reith searched the cavern walls, trying to
trace out a route to the gap. Zap 210 said in a soft voice, “You will attract
attention.”

Reith moved
back against the bales, and again studied the side of the cavern. He pointed. “A
trail leads up to the gap.”

“Of course.”

Reith traced
the trail along the wall. It seemed to terminate at the dock, now only a
quarter of a mile distant. Reith noticed several shapes in black cloaks: Pnume
or Pnumekin, he could not be sure. They stood waiting in what he considered
sinister attitudes; he became highly uneasy.

Going to the
stern of the barge, Reith looked right and left. He returned to Zap 210. “In a
minute or so we’ll pass close to that island. That’s where we better leave the
barge. I don’t care to land at that dock.”

Zap 210 gave
a fatalistic shrug. They went to the stern of the barge. The island, a twisted
knob of limestone, came abeam. Reith said, “Lower yourself into the water. Don’t
kick or flounder; I’ll keep you afloat.”

She gave him
one unreadable side-glance and did as he bid. Holding the blue leather
portfolio high in one hand he slid into the water beside her. The barge moved
away, toward whoever or whatever waited on the dock. “Put your hands on my
shoulders,” said Reith. “Hold your face just above the water.”

The ground
rose under their feet; they clambered up on the island. The barge had almost
reached the dock. The black shapes came forward. By their gait Reith knew them
for Pnume.

From the
island they waded to the shore, keeping to areas of shadow, where they were
invisible to those on the dock, or so Reith hoped. A hundred feet above ran the
trail to the gap. Reith made a careful reconnaissance, and they started to
climb, scrambling over detritus, clinging to knobs of agate, crawling over
humps and buttresses. A mournful hooting sound drifted across the water. Zap
210 became rigid.

“What does
that mean?” Reith asked in a hushed voice.

“It must be a
summons, or a call ... like nothing I have heard in Pagaz.”

They
continued up the slope, sodden cloaks clinging to their bodies, and at last
heaved themselves up on the trail. Reith looked ahead and back; no living
creature could be seen. The gap into the outer world was only fifty yards
distant. Once again the hooting sounded, conveying a mournful urgency.

Panting,
stumbling, they ran up the trail. The gap opened before them; they saw the
golden-gray sky of Tschai, where a tumbled group of black clouds floated. He
took a last look down the trail. With the light of outdoors in his face, with
tears blurring his vision, he could distinguish only shadows and dim
rockshapes. The underground was again a world remote and unknown. He took Zap
210’s hand, pulled her out into the open. Slowly she stepped forward and looked
across the surface. They stood halfway up the slope of a rocky hill overlooking
a wide valley. In the distance spread a calm gray surface: the sea.