The Totems of Abydos (52 page)

Brenner had put down the remains of Archimedes in the clearing, and rushed to the hut. The two Pons whom he had left there were gone, of course.

Brenner rushed out of the hut, demanding information. It seemed the Pons did not quite understand him. To be sure, he was much beside himself, and may not have been coherent.

“Things all right,” one Pon had assured him, hoping perhaps thereby to assuage his obvious agitation.

In moments, however, Brenner found two trails in the dust, where it seemed that two objects, perhaps baskets, which might have been obtained in trade from Company Station, had been dragged, perhaps on ropes. In the furrows in the dust, too, were reddish stains. Along the paths of these furrows, too, there were numerous small footprints, those of Pons. Apparently a great number of them had followed these objects. Although Brenner was not in the mood, or really in a proper condition of mind, to interpret these prints, a calmer observer might have noted that the smaller prints, presumably those of females, tended to be apart from and outside the somewhat larger prints, those of males. Prom this it might have been gathered that in whatever was going on there had been some attention given to maintaining the proper distances. Although it was difficult to tell from the furrows after a time, it seemed that the objects might have been dragged around and around, in circles. Here the markings in the dust, the stains, and the footprints became very confused. These matters became substantially clearer when, rather close to one wall of the palisade, behind some huts, rather back and to the right of the gate, as one might enter it, two small heaps of bones were found, the shards of skeletons, from which, bit by bit, judging from the nicks and cuts on the bones, the flesh had been scraped. This had presumably been done by scarps, which seemed the most likely instrument for such work in the Pons’ inventory of tools.

It was at the moment of making this discovery that Brenner had howled with rage, and perhaps, too, with misery, with regret, with frustration, with grief.

Some Pons had followed him about, puzzled. They looked at him, and blinked.

“You bastards!” screamed Brenner and he, despite his larger size, and his much greater strength, and the moral problematicity of such an act, had struck two of them. These had hastily withdrawn from his dangerous ambit and then, with the others, watched him.

He had then fled back to the hut, to hide, to cry, to be alone.

It was there that Rodriguez, who, of course, had only shortly before arrived back at the village, found him.

“You know?” asked Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez. “I saw.”

“I should kill them all,” said Brenner.

“The taboo was broken,” said Rodriguez. “Disaster ensued. Now the taboo has been expiated. Things are the same again. The balances are restored, the proportions are in order.”

“I am leaving,” said Brenner.

“There is nowhere to go,” said Rodriguez.

“I will not stay here,” said Brenner.

“Where will you go?” asked Rodriguez.

“Company Station,” said Brenner.

“How will you find your way?” asked Rodriguez.

“I will follow the stones, the white stones,” said Brenner.

Brenner rose up and began to throw clothing, and various articles, into his knapsack.

“Wait until morning,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“Take the rifle,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner. “It is yours. You may need it.” He recalled the large beast they had seen in the forest. It might return.

“It is insane to go into the forest alone, without a weapon,” said Rodriguez.

“I am going!” screamed Brenner. “I will not stay here!” He then, with his knapsack half packed, weeping, crying out, fled from the village.

“Come back!” Rodriguez screamed after him. “Come back!”

Then Rodriguez turned back to the village. A Pon looked up at him, and blinked.

Then Rodriguez returned to the hut. He had one bottle of Heimat left. His hand shook when he poured it.

“Ten years ago,” he said to himself, “I would not have missed.”

Then he threw out the Heimat on the floor of the hut, and, on one of the stones of the fire pit, at the center of the hut, broke the bottle.

Chapter 23

Brenner looked wildly about.

He cursed a world with no moon. The forest loomed about him, lit by the dim glow of the dangling lantern fruit.

The snapping of a twig is a tiny sound, but he had heard it. He had heard, too, from time to time, movements amongst dried leaves, which might have been their stirring in the wind, but might, too, have been the soft, quick tread of paws.

Brenner sobbed and peered into the darkness.

He jerked off the knapsack and held it by the straps. It would be a poor weapon, flung on its straps. It would be an ineffectual shield. Yet it was something to strike out with, or something to insert between himself and the forest.

A stick, a club, would be better.

Brenner stood in the tiny clearing and listened, as carefully, as intently, as keenly, as he could. He could hear only his own breathing.

There is nothing there, he told himself. I am alone.

He saw another of the white stones. He ran toward it. It was late at night, how late he did not know. He fell on his knees and picked up the whitish stone, and clutched it to him, weeping, and then put it down.

He must now search out another.

How fortunate that the Pons were so stupid, and had so little sense of direction, or knowledge of woodcraft, that they needed a trail of stones to find their way between Company Station and the village. With such an aid Rodriguez’ compass and map, which had been lost in the journey to the village, were not even necessary.

Brenner stood up.

Anything might have caused a twig to snap, if it really had. If it were small enough, and dry enough, and properly positioned, even the foot of a git might break it. Perhaps he had not even heard the sound. It was late at night. It was dark. His imagination might have played tricks on him.

Brenner looked about for another stone. He saw it, several yards away.

He hurried toward it.

* * *

Brenner looked behind him, and to the side.

He stumbled toward another whitish stone.

I have gone miles, he said to himself. The knapsack was now again on his back. In one hand was grasped a stout branch. It would help him to keep his feet in the darkness. There is nothing to be afraid of, he told himself.

Then he cried out with alarm and flung up the stick, and was nearly buffeted by a fleet body which bounded past him, crossing diagonally before him, from his right to his left, one of the tiny, small-horned ungulates of the forest.

He remained very still.

Overhead he heard the calls of a night bird.

Then he went to the next stone.

* * *

After an hour or so, Brenner stopped to drink at a shallow stream, one of many which flowed through the well-watered forest. Then, at the edge of the stream, he sat down. He was tired and hungry. He removed the knapsack and put the stick beside him. He leaned back against a tree.

He sat up, quickly, when two of the small-horned ungulates, one larger and one smaller, crossed the stream some yards below him, splashing, and trotted into the darkness. Their heads bobbed as they moved. Had Rodriguez been with him Rodriguez might have remarked on the oddity of the movements of such creatures at night, as they were day-feeders and normally quiescent at night.

Brenner partook of some bemat cakes and dried fruit.

Then, rested and fed, and feeling much better than before, he rose up.

He had, of course, before resting, located the next stone.

* * *

Brenner was not clear, at first, that that there was anything out there. It is very difficult to interpret the shadows in the uncertain light of stars, in the dim glow of lantern fruit.

It was his unusually fine hearing that at last convinced him that he was not, as he had hitherto assumed, alone in the forest.

At first it was the soft flaking, and crushing, of dried leaves, closer now, and less mistakable than formerly. It was mostly on his right, and behind him.

A little later Brenner stopped, suddenly, and, to be sure, there was the sound again, but then it stopped, as he had stopped.

He removed the knapsack uneasily from his back. He clutched the stick more firmly.

Then he heard the sound, or a similar sound, from his left.

Brenner hurried to the next stone. It was fortunate that there were such stones. Without them he would have been lost, utterly confused, disoriented, in the forest. Even with a map and compass it would have required skill to find Company Station. Without them, trying, say, to find one’s way by marks of weathering, by the growth of moss, by stars, and such, there would have been but small prospect of success. Company Station was no more than a dot in the trackless forests of the northern hemisphere of Abydos. In searching for it, one might pass within a mile of it and never know it. But, felicitously, there were the stones! They would be his guideposts. They comforted him, providing him with assurances of Company Station, with its fence and gate.

“Go back!” screamed Brenner. “Get away!”

This was his first clear visual contact with what was out there. It was a dark shape to his left, as he had turned. It was not like the thing which had seized Archimedes. It was quite different. It was not nearly as large. It sat back on its haunches. It seemed almost, facing him, as though it had no head, until Brenner realized that what he had taken for the shoulders was actually a gigantic knot of muscle, humplike, below which, there emergent from the shoulders, was the head.

“Get away!” screamed Brenner.

When the beast turned its head to the side, Brenner could detect that it had an odd silhouette. There was something running the length of its skull. Brenner spun about. There was another noise there. Brenner was extremely quiet.

He now heard, clearly, from at least two quarters, quick, breaths, those which might be expected of animals with heavy coats, which might have become overheated in movement. Such creatures perspire primarily through their mouth, and the pads of their feet.

Then, from the darkness, there emerged another such beast. Its eyes flashed, suddenly, reflecting the light of one of the dangling fruits.

“Stay away I” said Brenner.

Then it had backed away, and was crouching down, watching him.

On its skull, running the length of it, beginning above and between the eyes, visible in the dim light of the lantern fruit, seemingly yellowish in its light, was a hairless, serrated bony plate, or ridge.

Brenner then detected two more of the creatures, farther back.

The muzzles of these creatures were very broad, and powerful. Brenner could see teeth, they, too, in the light of the lantern fruit, appearing yellowish.

“Go back!” said Brenner.

Suddenly one of the ungulates, the fourth he had seen, emerged from the darkness and darted, with odd bounds, through the beasts, and disappeared amongst the trees.

That is it, said Brenner to himself. They do not want me. They are pursuing that. That is what they want. That is what they are after.

Another pair of animals appeared.

They appeared, silently, from the direction from which the ungulate had come, fleeing.

“Get back!” said Brenner.

Brenner backed away, and the nearest animal, crouching down, inched forward.

Brenner could now detect several of these beasts about him. There were, though he could not be sure of it, given the darkness, seven of them.

“Get back!” said Brenner.

Another animal came a little closer. They expected Brenner to run.

Brenner, holding to a strap, flung the knapsack out at the closest animal. It struck it across the face, and it drew back. Then it bared its teeth. Another animal, crouching, head up, teeth bared, approached. Brenner struck out again with the knapsack. Then again, at another animal, he struck out. Then the sack was torn from his grip and he saw the knapsack attacked by two other animals. Three fought for it. Brenner saw the great knots of muscle in the necks bulge, the wide, powerful jaws closed like clamps on the object. Then it was being fiercely shaken by one or another animal, the others, too, rolling, snarling, in the dirt, not relinquishing their grip. Then each had a portion of the heavy leather and canvas object, the contents scattered for yards about, on the leaves, amongst the trees. The great mass of muscles in the back of the neck, of course, a feature in this life form, tended to average out successes in such vigorously prosecuted contests. Doubtless it had been selected for. It was useful in the retention of shares of food. These animals, like many social beasts, acquired food in concert, but its division, except for the young, which in the dens tended to be fed on regurgitated prey, was decided on a much more individualistic basis. Needless to say, the broad jaws, the tenacity of their grip, and such, had similar utilities. Although Brenner was not interested at the moment in such zoological matters it might be called to the attention of the reader that the hairless, serrated ridge on the skull was also of some importance. As these beasts were not merely hunters but scavengers it tended to reduce the danger of contamination from decomposing prey, guarding the head and jaws to some extent as they were thrust into the bodily cavities of carrion. The ridge also, of course, to some extent, enlarged the area within the cavity for the feeder, this giving freer play to the jaws. Its function apparently did not have to do with enabling vision within the bodily cavities, at least in the present form of the animal, as they fed with their eyes closed, a useful disposition to protect the eyes from bone and reduce the possibility of infection.