John Norman (36 page)

“Tree is Drawer’s son,” said Old Woman. Then she turned about, and led the way from the room, Hamilton following behind her, following the pool of torchlight cast, moving, on the walls of the passage.

Turtle slightly shifted the weight of the wood on her left shoulder.

The snow was four inches deep. Her breath bung before her face. Under her tunic and jacket she perspired. In the caves, she would, like many of the other women, strip herself, or discard her clothing to the waist. In civilization Hamilton, in the winter, had liked closed rooms and considerable warmth. But, with the Men, she bad come to find overheating and closeness distasteful, and even extremely uncomfortable. Living outdoors had wrought changes in her body chemistry. Temperatures which she might once have found chilly, and which might once have made her miserable, she now found only refreshing, even zestful and stimulating. Her blood, because of the fresh air, was charged with oxygen. She had great vitality and energy. Too, she was aware, as she had never been before, of thousands of subtle gradations and fluctuations in air and temperature. She had become, for the first time in her life, fully alive to the world in which she lived.

Happily, she trudged ahead in the snow, carrying the wood.

Sometimes she found her happiness unaccountable, for was she not only a female slave, as the thongs tied about her neck proclaimed her, forced to labor, subject to the least wishes, and the switches and commands of masters? Yes, but somehow, however unaccountably, she was happy. Never had she been so happy in her life. She began to sing.

Today, this morning, the hunters had taken meat. She could, even from where she trudged through the snow, smell it cooking. Tonight, she knew, she would be well fed. She laughed delightedly. After the singing and dancing she would repay her master well for the meat which he might have deigned to throw her. She would, eagerly, give him fantastic pleasures. “After all,” said she to herself, “a girl must serve her master well.”

She shook her head happily, to hear the shells on the rawhide string that held-back her hair.

Then she, startled, tried to cry out.

The hand closed over her mouth. She felt herself pulled backwards.

Her hands were pulled behind her back. To her astonishment she felt steel close about them, and lock.

“Do not make noise,” said a voice, in English.

Hamilton was turned about, the hand still tightly over her mouth.

Her eyes widened.

“Do not cry out,” said the voice.

Hamilton nodded.

The hand was removed from her mouth.

“Gunther,” she whispered. “William!”

“Has Herjellsen sent you to bring me back?” asked Hamilton.

“You do not seem pleased to see us,” said William.

“No,” said Gunther.

“You are engaged in another phase of the experiments?” asked Hamilton.

“No,” said Gunther.

Hamilton looked at him, puzzled.

The two men wore boots, and heavy coats, and hats. They carried backpacks. Each, over his shoulder, carried a rifle. Gunther wore his Luger, holstered, at his side. William, too, wore a pistol.

“Tell her,” said William.

“Herjellsen has mastered the retrieval problem,” said Hamilton.

The men were silent.

Hamilton clenched her fists in the steel cuffs, confining her hands behind her back.

“Please free me, Gunther,” she said.

“Be quiet,” said Gunther.

Hamilton was silent. She had been well taught to obey men.

“Tell her,” said William.

“I see you have made contact with a human, or humanoid, group,” said Gunther.

“They are human,” said Hamilton.

“What is your status among them?” asked Gunther.

“That of other women,” said Hamilton.

“And what is that?” asked Gunther.

“Slave,” said Hamilton.

“Excellent,” said Gunther. “I like female slaves.”

“These men are dangerous,” said Hamilton.

Gunther slapped the holster at his right hip. “We do not fear savages,” he said.

“These men are hunters,” said Hamilton. “And sometime you must sleep.”

We come in peace,” smiled Gunther.

“You are strangers,” said Hamilton. “It will be best that you go away.”

Gunther then took her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers.

When he released her, he looked at her, puzzled, not pleased.

Hamilton backed away from him a step, angry.

“Are you not pleased?” asked Gunther.

“You are a man,” she said, “and can do with me what you wish, of course.”

“Of course,” said Gunther.

“You must understand, however,” said she, “that I am not the same female who groveled before you in Rhodesia.”

“What is the difference?” asked Gunther.

“I have been in the arms of hunters,” she said.

Gunther whipped the pistol from its holster. “This is mightier than your hunters,” he said.

“Please free me,” asked Hamilton.

“Kneel,” said Gunther.

Hamilton did so.

“Put your head down,” said Gunther.

Hamilton, kneeling in the snow, complied.

“When it pleases me,” said Gunther, “I will teach you to forget your hunters.”

The primitive woman, Turtle, one of the slave females of the Men, smiled.

Gunther struck her brutally to the snow.

“Do you speak the language of these hunters?” asked William.

“Yes,” said Hamilton.

“On your knees again,” said Gunther, “head down.”

Hamilton complied.

“You may conjecture our situation,” said William.

“Be silent,” said Gunther to William.

“There is little to be gained by force,” said William.

“I shall do the speaking,” said Gunther.

“Very well,” said William.

“Brenda,” said Gunther.

Hamilton lifted her head.

“We are interested in making contact with a human group. You have apparently already done so. You will be our instrument of communication. You will lead us to this group, and make our demands known to them.”

“These men are dangerous,” said Hamilton. “It would be better that you go away.”

“If we go away,” said Gunther, “we will take you with us.”

Hamilton was silent.

“Does that not please you?” asked William.

“No,” said Hamilton.

“We may take you with us whether you wish it or not,” said Gunther.

“Of course,” said Hamilton, “but I would not do so. It may not be easy to keep me.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gunther. “Do you think you could escape?”

“Quite possibly not,” admitted Hamilton.

“What then do you mean?” asked Gunther.

“You will be followed, and, I would suppose, killed.” She looked at him, unafraid. “These men are hunters,” she said. “Their senses are incredibly keen. They are like eagles and dogs. They can see details that you, even with your fine vision, would require a telescope to discern. They can, like dogs or wolves, follow a trail by smell. They run with swiftness, and the wind of horses. They would follow you and in the end catch you. Then, I expect, they would kill you.”

“We have guns,” said Gunther.

“You would perhaps be able to kill one, or two, and then they would remain, beyond range, until dark. Then they would hunt you by scent. And in the darkness they could from many paces detect your presence by your breathing. I would not wish to be their enemy.”

“They will run at the sound of a gunshot,” said Gunther.

“They do not run from thunder, or from lightning,” said Hamilton, “though they take shelter.”

“We will put fear into their simple brains,” said Gunther.

“They are tenacious and intelligent,” said Hamilton. “They are as likely to be curious, as fearful. If you make them angry, they are not likely to be afraid.”

“They might envy us our weapons, and want them” said William.

“Be quiet!” snapped Gunther. He looked angrily at Hamilton. “We will teach them fear,” he said.

“They will teach you terror,” said, Hamilton.

“Among such savages,” snarled Gunther, “with these,” indicating the guns, “we will be as gods!”

“As nearly as I can determine,” said Hamilton, “these men do not have the concept of gods. They do regard the world as animate, and think of many things, strangely perhaps to us, as being individual and alive, trees, flowers, grass, stones, water, animals. They will speak to animals, for example, and sing to them, and sometimes ask their permission to kill them. Too, they sacrifice sometimes meat, though to what or for what purpose I do not know.”

“Why do you not know?” demanded Gunther.

“Why should I know?” asked Hamilton. “I am only a female.”

“What is your purpose in telling us these things?” asked Gunther.

“To suggest to you,” said Hamilton, “Gunther, that they have few superstitions which you will be likely to be able to exploit.”

Gunther glared down upon her, angrily.

“If you displease them,” said Hamilton, “they are less likely to be frightened than angry. They will regard you as a problem to be solved, probably by killing you.”

Gunther swallowed, uneasily.

Hamilton looked up at him and smiled. “Is it not the human way?” she asked.

“We have no intention of displeasing them,” said Gunther.

“It seems to me you are already risking their displeasure,” said Hamilton.

“How is that?” asked Gunther.

“You are holding one of their females,” she said.

“Perhaps I should kill you here, now,” said Gunther.

“They would still follow you,” said Hamilton.

Hamilton looked into the muzzle of Gunther’s pistol. She saw the finger tense on the trigger. Then Gunther thrust the pistol into the holster, and flung her to her feet, turning her about. He freed her wrists, and placed the handcuffs in the pouch on his belt.

“That you are here,” said Hamilton, “indicates that Herjellsen has solved the retrieval problem.” She smiled. “It would be one thing to maroon a female, a mere experimental animal, in time, but quite another to maroon his two esteemed male colleagues. When are you to be retrieved, and from what point?”

“Do you wish to be retrieved with us?” asked Gunther.

“No,” said Hamilton.

“You are mad,” said William.

“Perhaps,” laughed Hamilton.

“You whore!” snarled Gunther.

“Perhaps,” said Hamilton.

“We can take you with us by force,” said Gunther.

“I would not advise the attempt,” said Hamilton.

“Here,” said William,” “you are only a slave.”

“Was I less a slave, even when putatively free, in my own world?” asked Hamilton.

“What if Herjellsen,” said William, “Brenda, has not solved the retrieval problem?”

Brenda looked at him, puzzled.

“Your joke, William,” said Gunther, “is a poor one.”

William did not meet his eyes. He was silent.

“The retrieval problem, as you conjectured, Brenda,” said Gunther, “is solved, else we would not have undertaken this journey.”

“What is your purpose here?” asked Brenda.

“As a female, it is not yours to inquire into the purposes of men,” said Gunther. “It is yours to obey. Do you understand, Brenda?”

“Yes, Gunther,” she said.

“You will take us to your group,” said Gunther. “In this we are determined. On this we will not compromise.”

“And if I do not?” she asked.

“You will be stripped and tied to a tree in the snow, and lashed with my belt,” said Gunther.

“And if, even then, I do not?” she asked.

“I shall strangle you,” he said, “and leave you in the snow.”

“Are bullets so precious?” she asked.

“Our supplies are limited,” said Gunther, “until the rendezvous for retrieval.”

“You leave me little choice, Gunther,” she said.

“I leave you the choices of a female slave,” he said, “which is what you are, absolute obedience or the shameful death of a slave girl who has failed to be pleasing.”

“I shall try to be pleasing,” she said. She smiled.

“Good,” said Gunther.

“I will help you if I can, Gunther,” she said, “but, truly, I think it would be best for you to avoid these men, at least those among whom I find myself slave. They are highly intelligent, dangerous men, and you, Gunther, and William, are strangers. I am a female. They found my body of interest, and so made me a slave, but you, you they might simply kill.”

“She is right,” said William. “Let us go away.”

“But she will intercede for us,” said Gunther.

“How weighty, Gunther,” she asked, “do you feel will be the intercession of a slave?”

“We will shoot our way out, if necessary,” said Gunther.

Hamilton smiled.

“Let us go away,” said William.

“She will speak for us,” said Gunther.

“Your lives would be in my hands,” said Hamilton, “for you do not know the language. Will I translate accurately for you? Will I tell them truly what you say, or you what they say?” Her eyes became hard. “Do not forget that it was you who by force cruelly exiled me to this time and place.”

“Please, Brenda,” said William. “Conjecture our situation.”

“You two, too, are now exiles in time,” said Hamilton. “Why should I help you?”

“Please, Brenda,” said William. “Our ammunition and food is limited. If we cannot make contact with some self-sustaining human group we shall surely, sooner or later, die.”

“No,” said Hamilton, “you can learn to hunt, too, with primitive weapons. You, too, can learn to live in this world.”

“But only as savages,” said William.

“Yes,” said Hamilton, “only as savages.”

“You must help us, please, Brenda,” said William.

Gunther again unsheathed the Luger. “. Kneel,” be said.

Obediently, commanded by a man, Brenda knelt.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” said Gunther.

She did so.

“Close your mouth,” said Gunther.

She did so, on the Luger’s barrel.

“You must clearly understand,” said Gunther, “that you are to help us. You will take us to the human group of which you are a member. At the first sign of any insubordination or treachery you will be immediately shot. I will blast the back of your neck out. Is this understood?”