Enemies of the System (7 page)

“And what should we keep in our heads?” asked Burek. Shaking his head, he said to Sygiek, “You and Kordan talk so much. Blowing never warmed porridge, as the old country saying has it.” He gave the impression of a withdrawn man, which made his remarks the more effective, especially as he spoke in a slow heavy way, drawing his brows together as he did so. “My friends, we must suppose that the tunnelers ripped out the phone-cables back by the coach. So no phones are going to work all the way to the Gorge, are they? Use your brains.”

“Exactly so. That's another reason for getting back to the bus,” said Constanza.

“It may be an excuse but it is not a reason,” said Burek. “I am myself for continuing. I merely do not want us to suffer disappointment every time we reach a phone and find it out of order.”

“Let me remind you that our decision was to make for the Gorge,” said Kordan. “The others rely on us to carry out our intention. We should inevitably be criticized if we went back having achieved nothing.”

“That's up to them,” said Takeido, sliding off the truck. “I'd rather be criticized then eaten. Not that I can bear either.” He clutched his forehead in sudden tension. “I wish I had never heard of Lysenka II! Listen, if we walked back to the phone post situated
before
that fatal bit of tunneling, we should find the line working.”

“Why didn't you suggest that at the bus?” wailed Constanza.

He took her hand. “Because it has only just occurred to me, of course, you lovely creature.”

Dulcifer burst out laughing.

“What do you find amusing?” Burek asked him. “Are you for going on or back?”

“There's something in what Takeido says. Better disgrace than digestion. I am for going back.”

“How typical of you,” said Sygiek. “Anything to be difficult. That makes three wishing to go on and three wishing to go back. Do we split up again into two parties?”

“Let's just have a rest,” said Constanza. She sank to the ground, and Takeido sat companionably beside her. In the argument that followed, she played no part; her bare feet spoke tenderly for her. The other four stood solidly on the road, debating and looking across the bleak landscape.

They were still arguing when Sygiek burst out, “You spineless people, you have sore feet but no spirit! The Gorge it must be. We can walk throughout the night, using torches and flares to ward off attack. I will go forward alone if necessary.”

At which Dulcifer nodded, smiling, and gave her a round of silent applause.

“It's not a matter of spirit but of understanding the situation,” said Burek, drawing his brows together. “The six of us would be no match for an attack by thirty or forty of these creatures. Our duty is to recognize realities and return to the main party to acquaint them with the situation. You wish to go on from personal reasons, Millia Sygiek, because you are a person keen to dominate others and subject them to your will. Jerezy Kordan wishes to go on, not because he is strong but because he is weak and wishes to please you. Set your personality aside and see sense, utopianist.”

Dulcifer clapped Burek on the back and gave a bark of laughter.

Burek looked at him steadily. “You are as much subject to your personal desires as they,” he said. “And you are more to blame because you have more understanding.”

Breaking from his silence, Kordan said, “No more rustic opinions, please, Che Burek. Remember we are all utopianists and derive our strength through unity. We have no decision to make—we will go forward as already decided.”

Takeido gave a low whistle, “Comrades, the ex-capitalists are beginning to take an interest in us once more.” He stood up and pointed through the thick atmosphere.

Down from the road, across a wearying jumble of rocks and canyons studded with horsetails, their gaze traveled, searching the brown wilderness until their eyes lit on a group of figures crouching on a prominence and surveying them.

As if they had waited to be seen, the distant figures rose and began to climb slowly down in single file.

“Not many of them,” observed Kordan. “Stupid of us not to bring binoculars along. We will continue to walk on at a steady pace. No cause for alarm.”

Taking hold of the luggage trolley, he set the example. Sygiek fell in beside him, Burek and Dulcifer followed. Takeido helped Constanza to her feet and they walked behind the others, Takeido keeping hold of the guide's hand.

Without undue haste, the indistinct figures of the enemy scrambled down to the floor of the rift valley and moved toward the road, closing in as the minutes passed. It was clear that the Utopians were their target.

As the trolley growled before them over the road, Sygiek said quietly to Kordan, “Do you notice they seem to have two heads? Oh, I feel such horror—less fear than horror. Surely they were never of
homo sapiens
stock? Shall we commence running?”

“If we run, so will they. My knowledge of history tells me that it might make better sense to fire off some flares and try to scare them away. Allow me to say that I fear more for your safety than for mine. Dearest Millia, what should we do?”

She looked at him and smiled tensely. “I will back whatever you do.”

He flashed her a grateful look. “Let's try to drive these monsters off.”

The six stopped in the middle of the road and drew together. A case of flare-guns was broken open; armed, they turned to face the creatures now rapidly approaching across the barren valley.

The enemy halted. It consisted of five ferocious individuals, each looking more formidable than any life-form the tourists had seen so far. Each wore a kind of coat of short, bristling spines. Each had a face painted with drab vertical stripes; two black horizontal stripes partly masked the eyes. Each had hair which piled up stiffly like a cock's-comb above its head. They resembled enormous perambulating cacti.

The exception was the leader, who halted ahead of his four companions. A bone with sharply spiked ends pierced the flanges of his nostrils. On his head, above a mass of unruly yellow hair, he carried a skull like a crown, the teeth of its upper jaw biting into his forehead. The skull was painted in similar patterns to his face. It was this skull that, in a moment of fear, had made Sygiek think the newcomers were two-headed.

They were mounted on steeds, carrying spears and sitting erect. In their watchful silence, they were extremely menacing. Despite their extraordinary garb, they bore more definitely than any other creature encountered on Lysenka the stamp of humanity.

“Terrifying,” said Takeido. He clutched his mouth with his hand.

“Do we or don't we use the flare-guns?” demanded Constanza, in an urgent whisper. “If we had just one good gun, we could wipe them all out.” She clung to Takeido.

“When I give the signal, fire into their faces,” said Sygiek. “And not until I give the signal, understand?”

The hunters were dismounting. Their steeds, their debased two-legged horses, were zebra-creatures, similar to the ones which had attempted unsuccessfully to cross the river. They carried the hunters piggy-back. Narrow saddles were secured just above their rumps. Spiked stirrups hung to their knees. When their riders dismounted, the five zebras fell to the ground, showing every sign of exhaustion, and took no further interest in the proceedings.

The five hunters stepped forward, bristling in their strange armor. They held their spears at the ready. The leader grunted a word of command, never lifting his scrutiny from the tourists standing on the road above him. One of his men turned in leisurely fashion, lifted his fingers to his painted lips, and whistled. Two notes. Pause. Then the two notes repeated.

The landscape filled with dogs. Yapping shrilly, they rose from the ground on all sides, a ferocious hunting pack. Their coats were stiff and bristling like those of their masters. Some of them had faces like wolves, some were blunt-faced and more human. Some ran only on four legs, some went sometimes on two. All converged on the party at bay on the road.

Within seconds, the tourists were surrounded.

“Flares?” asked Dulcifer. “I'll shoot the first hound to nip my ankles.”

“Wait,” said Burek. “They're not attacking us.”

The leader of the hunters moved forward, striding through the snarling pack. He jumped effortlessly on to the road and confronted the tourists, standing as solid as a great barrel. He pointed at them and spoke.

The series of guttural noises he made was rapid and without meaning for them. They cringed before him until Kordan took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“We are people of importance,” Kordan told him. “World Unity and the System are behind us. We demand that you help us return to Unity Hotel. Understand?”

“You're welcome to your stinking planet,” shouted Takeido, when the other made no sign. “We just want to get home.”

Sygiek held out her hand. In it was a packet of bread rolls with vegetable filling, made up by the hotel that morning. She offered it to the chief.

“A gift,” she said. “You take it, you aid us.”

The hunter chief turned, came close, and regarded her, ignoring her outstretched hand to stare into her eyes.

A strong psychic shock overcame her as her gaze met his. He was lean, arrogant, ruthless; those characteristics beamed from his attitude, from his narrow eyes. And some other quality that she had never met before, some mysterious mainspring of life which assaulted her, before which she felt humble. Of that unwanted humility she was ashamed; but she dropped her eyes submissively before his slitted gaze.

He snatched the bread package and hurled it to the dogs. Constanza clutched Takeido, who put an arm protectively round her. Seeing the movement, the leader flicked his head round and glared at them. Then he made an imperious gesture which there was no mistaking. They were to follow him.

From his henchman came more whistles. Additional hunters appeared from cover. They leaped on zebra-creatures and galloped forward, often accompanied by dogs. Yelping with excitement, they poured up to the road and overran it. The tourists were surrounded by milling men and hounds. Other warriors kept appearing.

More imperious gestures, more snarled commands.

“We have no choice but—” began Kordan, pale of face, when Takeido fired his flare-gun at the chief hunter.

The range was less than four meters. The chief had half-turned to summon his companions. The flare struck his shoulder and exploded, sending him tumbling among his hounds. Showers of green light burst among the wolf-pack. Snarling creatures fled in all directions.

“Everyone fire,” cried Sygiek. “It's our only chance.” Her flare-gun exploded as she spoke. Her five comrades followed her example.

Green dazzle filled the dun world. Several hunters fell, some ran away, the zebras galloped about shrieking. It made no difference. Fresh hunters materialized from the barren ground. They hurled themselves on the tourists and bore them to the ground by force. This was accompanied by savage yelling, intimidating in itself.

Bruised and frightened, disarmed, the tourists lay where they had been thrown. Hunters and dogs executed an angry parade round them, stamping spears or feet against the road surface. The tourists were able to make an unpleasantly close inspection of the hounds as they milled by.

Some of the dogs were dogs, snapping or jumping over one another. Some of them were children of the hunters, running on all fours like real hounds. Dogs and children alike were buttoned into the same type of bristling protective coat the hunters wore. This garment consisted of hundreds of a kind of fir cone stitched on to fabric. In addition, many of the children wore light helmets adorned with fur and upstanding ears. It was hard to tell them from the true dogs. Their hands, their knees, their feet, were calloused and pad-like. Many of them had sharp faces, as if in imitation of canine muzzles.

While the dog-pack cavorted and peered into the faces of their captives, the hunters were busy ransacking everything piled on the luggage trolley. The tourists had an unrivaled view of knees and scarred calves, and could listen to the harsh language of their captors. More hunters and dogs emerged from nowhere and ringed them round. Rain began to fall in ponderous drops.

Dulcifer pulled himself into a sitting position, arms folded over knees.

“They haven't killed us outright. What do you suppose they will do with us?”

“Depends on whether or not I've killed their chief,” Takeido said. “They're looking into that now.” He began laughing miserably until Constanza hushed him.

The rain fell more heavily. The chief had been carried off the road. They knew his position by the knot of hunters surrounding him. The sky was dark.

“Why don't those damned buses return for us?” Constanza asked. “I know those foolish hostesses, Sonya Rykznel, Bonni Fin, Pru Ganin. Why have they not become alarmed and turned back to look for us?”

Rain poured down their faces. They were already soaked to the skin. Water hissed and bubbled off the smooth surface of the road. They waited. Kordan hid his face in his hands.

“I am a mere Academician, not a leader … There is a great difference …”

“I have been thinking about what was said earlier,” Burek spoke at last. “They regard us as protein. They will exploit us as food. They have no human values. After all, once a capitalist enemy, always a capitalist enemy. We are in a bad position—I remember an old saying, ‘A man in a lion's den turns to wolves for friendship.'”

“If we return to the System, I shall put in a severe criticism,” said Sygiek. “All these creatures should have been destroyed before the planet was opened to tourism. The Minister for Outourism must answer for this. The propaganda also was misleading. I would not have come here had I known the true state of affairs.”

“Agreed,” said Kordan. “Outourist is notoriously lax. All the same, my orders were disobeyed. Utopianist Takeido, you will be criticized for firing your flare-gun without permission.”