The Totems of Abydos (42 page)

“It could very easily be our passage,” granted Brenner.

“We are not a large or formidable party,” said Rodriguez.

“There are several Pons with us,” said Brenner. To his annoyance, it seemed that Rodriguez was ready, characteristically, to overlook the Pons.

“The men of Company Station seldom, if ever, hunt in the forest, so it is not as if the animals would have learned to fear them.”

“True,” said Brenner.

“Even when we camp at night,” said Rodriguez, “it has seemed to be very quiet.”

“At such a time the animals would be expected to resume their normal behaviors?”

“After a few minutes, of course,” said Rodriguez. Brenner supposed that Rodriguez might know something about these matters. He had, after all, hunted on several worlds, on some of them professionally.

“Then clearly there must be very little animal life in the forest.

“That would seem so,” said Rodriguez.

“Yet,” said Brenner, “that contradicts the ecological surveys, sketchy as they are.”

“Exactly,” said Rodriguez.

“On the assumption that the reports, which seem clear and consistent, are correct, we are left with no alternative other than to assume that it is our presence which has frightened the animals.”

“Not necessarily,” said Rodriguez.

“I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“I do suspect that they are afraid,” said Rodriguez, “perhaps even very afraid.”

“It is strange that our presence could have so intimidating an effect,” said Brenner.

“It need not be our presence,” had said Rodriguez.

* * *

The movements in the brush were now closer.

Brenner wished he had some weapon, even a stick.

“You!” said Brenner, in relief, as Rodriguez broke through the brush, the brass barrel of the rifle in hand, disguised as an optical instrument.

Rodriguez was not in a good humor. He was covered with sweat. Small leaves and twigs clung here and there to his wet shirt. His face and arms were marked with scratches from brush. One cheek was bleeding. He had turned about, suddenly, and then, with a grunt, seized up the weapon and hurried down the backtrail. Now he was red-faced. He was breathing heavily. He stumbled, and regained his balance. He put one hand out, to steady himself. His paunch swayed. He is finished, thought Brenner. He is done. He is old. That brave animal, that irascible, uncompromising unique individual, that thing that dared to be different in a world of mediocrity and conformity, that hunter, that explorer, that soldier, that thing that lived by its own stars, that acute intellect, that heart of hearts is done. That body, insulted by age, withered in time, abused by Heimat and weed, is cargo now. He had been sent to Abydos to die. But he had come because he wanted to. There was something on Abydos about which he was curious, something he did not understand, something which might have to do with what he thought of as “the beginning.”

“Did you see anything?” asked Brenner.

“I had thought I did,” said Rodriguez.

“But not now?”

“No,” said Rodriguez, sitting down on the ground. “No.” He put the tube to one side. The Pons looked at it.

“We will rest for a time,” said Brenner to the Pons.

“It has been drifting with us,” said Rodriguez, “like a shark following a ship.”

“There is nothing,” said Brenner.

“It is always downwind.” said Rodriguez.

“There is nothing there,” said Brenner.

“It is the predator’s ambush,” said Rodriguez, absently.

“The shadows are subtle in the forest,” said Brenner. “There could be a mix of light and darkness, a movement of a branch, such things. It is easy to misinterpret such things.”

“You think that is what I have done?” asked Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.

“Certainly,” said Brenner.

“I do not think so,” said Rodriguez.

After a time the party rose up and continued its journey.

“Do you feel better now?” asked Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

Chapter 12

“It is to be a ceremony of some sort,” said Brenner.

It was now night.

On the next day they had been given to understand that the village would be reached.

“The git is apparently to play some role in the ceremony,” said Brenner.

“Naturally,” said Rodriguez.

“You aren’t going to use the camera,” said Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez. This made sense to Brenner. After all, the Pons might be familiar with cameras from Company Station, and the effects of their operation. Some primitive peoples objected to the capturing of their images, so to speak. Some feared this might steal their souls. For such reasons, and because they were still strange to the Pons, Rodriguez and Brenner would not attempt to film the ceremony, that in spite of the fact that the camera was dark-adapted. Rodriguez did have a small recorder with him. That, of course, could be easily concealed.

The Pons were in a circle.

Rodriguez and Brenner stood back, that they might not be obtrusive. They were close enough, of course, for the effective functioning of the recorder.

In the center of the circle of the Pons was a small cage of twigs. Within it, crouching down, was a tiny, stub-tailed rodent, the Abydian mouse, or git. Brenner could have held it, squirming, in his hand. This had been caught in a nest of rotted wood, half under a fallen log, earlier in the afternoon, in a sack, and then placed in the small enclosure of twigs, about which the Pons were gathered.

Rodriguez put on the recorder.

“We love you, father,” called a Pon, the voice high in the night.

“‘Father’?” asked Brenner.

“The totem animal,” said Rodriguez. “It is always referred to as “ancestor,” as “father,” as “primal father,” and such. The totem group regards itself as descended from it.”

“That is absurd,” said Brenner.

“Surely you are familiar with totemistic theory,” said Rodriguez. “The totem bond is regarded by these people as one of complete consanguinity, as one of blood, literally one of blood.”

“Forgive us, father, for what we have done,” called the Pon. “We are contrite! Show us forbearance! Be kind to us! Cherish us. Protect us! We will refrain from touching the soft ones!”

“That is exogamy, denial of the in-group females to the in-group males,” said Rodriguez. Brenner nodded. The two central tenets of totemism were reverence for the totem animal, respecting it, sparing it, and such, and exogamy. Mating was forbidden within a given totem.

“We beg your forgiveness, father!” called the voice.

“What did they do?” asked Brenner.

“Probably nothing,” said Rodriguez. “Maybe they have thought about breaking a taboo, or something, who knows?”

“Forgive us, father,” said the voice. “Love us! Cherish us! Protect us!”

There was then silence amongst the Pons.

“They are waiting for the response of the father,” whispered Rodriguez.

This rather surprising communication made Brenner, for no good reason, decidedly uneasy. There was only a little wind, however, amongst the branches. Some lantern fruit, softly glowing, moved on its stems.

Then, after a time, another Pon, from somewhere in the circle, called out the following:

Oh, I could get me in.

I could lay them waste.

But I will not do so,

for they are my children.

I am the father.

“That makes no sense,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner was forced to agree.

“Apparently the ceremony is over,” said Rodriguez. He turned off the recorder and slipped it into his pocket.

“Tomorrow,” said Brenner, “we reach the village.”

“It would seem so,” said Rodriguez. He then looked about, at the trees, and the clearing.

“You are still concerned that something is out there?” asked Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“Surely the Pons know the forest,” said Brenner. “And they do not seem frightened.”

“They are stupid,” said Rodriguez.

“We reach the village tomorrow,” said Brenner.

“It will not be too soon for me,” said Rodriguez.

“You are concerned, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

Chapter 13

“Let us take stock,” said Rodriguez.

It was their first night in the village, and they were alone in a small hut, on the periphery of an open, circular area in the center of the village.

“The palisade does not appear very formidable,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“The Pons seem friendly,” said Brenner.

“One of them rushed up and struck at you,” said Rodriguez.

“They seem friendly, on the whole,” said Brenner.

“Why did that one strike at you?” asked Rodriguez.

“I have no idea,” said Brenner. “As far as I know I have done nothing to generate his hostility.”

“He did not strike at me,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“The area of the village is perhaps two acres,” speculated Rodriguez.

Brenner nodded. That seemed about right. It was certainly not large.

“The Pons here would number in the vicinity of a hundred or so,” said Rodriguez.

“Perhaps,” said Brenner.

“I counted ninety-seven,” said Rodriguez, “but I may have missed some, and counted others twice. They all look the same, even the females, and they move about a lot, trying to keep the distances between them.”

“They do differ one from the other,” said Brenner, “if you pay attention. Too, the females are for the most part distinguishable from the males. They tend to be smaller, and their features seem to be different, finer, or more delicate, or less coarse, or something.”

“They all dress the same,” said Rodriguez.

“One clue as to whether females are present,” said Brenner, “is to observe the spatial relationships.”

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.

“Males will crowd together,” said Brenner. “Females usually keep about a yard between themselves and other females. The intersexual distances are at least ten feet.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

It was sometimes interesting, incidentally, to note the rapid shifting in spatial relationships which might occur in groups, given the entry or exit of various individuals, of one sex or another. This sort of thing, of course, objectively, was no more strange than similar sorts of distance observances in various cultures. Distance arrangements occur also, apparently naturally, amongst the individuals of many species. In some species, literally thousands of individuals could cluster in small spaces, or move about one another, even at high speed, and, almost as if by magic, avoid physical contact. Dominance orders, too, of course, of various sorts, were almost universal. In a flight of birds it is not an accident that the first bird is first, or the second second, and so on.

“You seem to be good at telling them apart,” said Rodriguez. “What do you think the ratio of males to females is?”

“About half and half,” said Brenner.

“You have noted, of course,” said Rodriguez, “that the males and females live separately.”

“That makes little sense to me,” said Brenner, “as there must be females from other clans, from other totems, in the village. It is only within the same totem that the males may not touch the females.”

“You saw no evidence of families?”

“No,” admitted Brenner.

“I made every effort this afternoon,” said Rodriguez, “where I could tell a female, to ascertain her totem.”

“All here are of the gits, so to speak,” said Brenner.

“As nearly as I can tell,” said Rodriguez.

“That makes no sense at all,” said Brenner.

“Where are the other clans, the people of other totems?” asked Rodriguez.

“They must be somewhere,” said Brenner. “In other villages? In the hills in the distance?”

“Yes, there must be others, somewhere,” said Rodriguez.

“There would have to be,” said Brenner.

“Did you see any children?” asked Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“Nor did I,” said Rodriguez.

“That is interesting,” said Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“There must be children,” said Brenner.

“Hidden away?” asked Rodriguez.