Moontrap - Don Berry (8 page)

BOOK: Moontrap - Don Berry
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"It is, now. Got a pot of coffee on."

"Well, now, " Thurston said, dismounting.
"That's very hospitable."

He looped the reins loosely around the tiny rail and
came up to the porch, extending his hand. It was small and delicate,
but he gripped with deliberate strength, as though there were a
contest in progress.

"C'mon in the house," Monday said. He felt
embarrassed, as always when Thurston gripped his hand so hard and
stared up, reproving him for his undisciplined size.

Monday fumbled at the fireplace, pouring the coffee,
while Thurston sat relaxed at the table, watching him carefully, his
face drawn and expressionless. Monday put the cups on the table, and
a few drops spilled over the rim. Thurston drew slightly away, and
Monday muttered something about his own clumsiness and went to get a
rag from the back to wipe up the small puddle on the table. When
Thurston was around his fingers were always numb and awkward, as if
half frozen; spilling things and knocking things over like a
schoolboy. When he had wiped up the coffee he was rewarded with
another of the sudden, flashing smiles from the small man, showing
his perfectly even white teeth.

"Well, Monday. Fine day," Thurston
repeated.

Monday nodded and sat down across the table. Thurston
leaned forward, cupping his hands around the mug.

"You wouldn't have any sugar about, would you?"
Thurston asked.

"
I can't abide coffee without sugar."

Monday shook his head, looking at the table. They
hadn't had any sugar for six months.

"Sorry, Mr. Thurston," he said. "They—up
to Oregon City, you know. I been late every time a ship come in—"

"Well, no matter," Thurston said in a
friendly way. "It makes no difference, does it?" He
carefully took his hands from around the cup and sat back, leaving
the steaming coffee in the center of the table as a silent reproach.
Monday looked at it helplessly.

"Well, now, Monday," Thurston said. "I
didn't see you in Oregon City last night. When the regiment came in."

"Regiment?"

"
With the Cayuse prisoners," Thurston said,
faintly annoyed.

"
Oh. No. Well, we got 'em in. I thought I better
come home then."

"Most of the men stayed with the job until the
Indians were safely in the hands of the marshal."

Monday cleared his throat. "Well, Mr. Thurston,
I didn't think I was—needed any more. You know, it was all over, we
had 'em in and all."

Thurston leaned forward again, never taking his eyes
from Monday's face. "Monday," he said seriously, "that's
your problem. That's your big trouble."

"Trouble? "

Thurston sat back again, regarding the blond giant
across the scarred planks of the table. With one finger he flipped
the gold nugget on his watch chain.

"Your modesty," he said finally. "Your
modesty." The smile flashed, and was gone. "Thought you
weren't needed! Indeed! Monday, don't you realize that a man of your
caliber is always needed? Why, you could be the very backbone of our
society here. Now you know that, don't you?"

"We1l, I never thought very much—you know, Mr.
Thurston, I try to get along, but as far as backbone and all that—"

"Modesty again, Monday," Thurston said,
amused. "Admirable, but, you understand, misplaced. You must
recognize your own worth, you must take your proper place."

Monday coughed.

"Well, no matter, eh? I came to congratulate you
on your part in the campaign, Monday. It was well conceived and well
carried out; a complete success, I dare say, and something the
community may well regard with pride."

"
There wasn't a hell of a lot to—"

Thurston held up his hand in protest. "Modesty,
my friend? I know what these things are like, believe me. Hunger,
thirst, constant danger. And doubly difficult, I dare say, what with
the damned conniving and plotting of the Jesuitical underlings of
Hudson's Bay. Twice the danger, with them inciting the Indians
against us at every opportunity."

The only thing Monday had been particularly aware of
on the expedition was being bored and saddle-sore. But, as always
with Thurston, he thought he was beginning to lose the thread of the
conversation. He frowned. "You know, though, without Ogden and
HBC them Indians wouldn't ever of come down. We'd maybe have a
honest-to-christ war on our hands."

Thurston threw his head back and laughed heartily.
"Monday, surely you aren't allowing yourself to be taken in by
that story? Naturally, the Jesuitical plotters attempt to turn
everything to their own advantage."

"But it was HBC that bought back the survivors
in the first place—"

"A gesture, my friend, I assure you. What did it
cost them? A few blankets, to throw us off our guard. And as far as
persuading the Indians to give themselves up . . ." Thurston
pursed his lips disdainfully that anyone could be taken in by such a
tale.

"But even the Indians say——" Monday
said, frowning, still trying to get things straight in his mind.

Thurston smiled ruefully. "Yes," he
admitted. "I dare say they've been sufficiently well rehearsed.
The voice of the Pope, you know . . ."

Monday looked down at the table. He had never
understood exactly how the Pope kept getting involved with Hudson's
Bay, except that McLoughlin was Catholic, as were most of the
Canadians. But sometimes it seemed as though the Pope were in
personal charge of HBC's Columbia Department. The Mission Party
always gave that impression, and now Thurston . . .

"Well, I don't know about all that kind of
thing," he said finally "I just try to get along, Mr.
Thurston."

"Believe me," Thurston said kindly, "it
is not necessary for you to worry about it. After all"—he
laughed—"is it the function of the backbone to worry? Hardly!
There are those of us competent to stay one step ahead of the
Jesuits, I dare say"

"Well," Monday said vaguely, "I expect
it'll be all right, anyway . . ."

"Of course. But Monday, good lord, man—I'm
forgetting my purpose! I came to congratulate you, not exchange
political ideas, fascinating as that may be."

"
Well, thanks very much, Mr. Thurston, but I—"

"Frankly, Monday," Thurston said
reflectively, "there was a time—you don't mind my being
frank?—there was a time I was deeply concerned."

"
About me?"

"
Perhaps, more accurately, about your loyalties;
about your willingness to take the responsibility of a citizen here."

"
I've always tried to be as—"

"In order to establish a society here—a real
society—a man must place his loyalty to the community before
self-interest. The community first, the individual second. You agree?
Cooperation is the key, Monday. Menaced on all sides, the Indians,
the underlings of Hudson's Bay—cooperation is the key to survival;
we must work together.

"
I dare say the situation is not too different
from that you encountered in the mountains, Monday. In order to
survive the perils of your trade, you hardy mountain men banded
together, working as a unit for the common good. The group is always
stronger than the individual alone."

In spite of his uneasiness and confusion, Monday
grinned. "Well. it didn't work exactly that way, Mr. Thurston."

Thurston waved his hand negligently; the details were
not important.

"
Nevertheless, I think my point is well taken.
The self-interest of the individual must be subordinated to the
common good. Else—there is chaos."

Monday nodded. He suddenly realized his coffee was
getting cold, and gulped some down.

"
And in any event," Thurston said, "My
concern has vanished. I can't tell you how heartening it is to see
you accept your responsibilities, such as the late Cayuse War. You
are leading the way, and from your example I fully expect great
changes in this community. The relations of the mountain men
with—shall we say?—the more respectable elements have not been of
the best. There is, perhaps, a difficulty in adjustment, a
reluctance. In fact, it might best be described as a failure of
discipline."

Monday smiled again. "Discipline wasn't hardly
ever a strong point in the mountains. We did pretty much as we
pleased."

Thurston shook his head ruefully. "Yes," he
said sadly, "like willful children. Or the savage Indian
himself. You see the connection there."

"I expect," Monday said hesitantly.

"
And, like all children, we mature; we become
sufficiently adult to realize that our place, ultimately is as part
of the community. Oh, Monday,' he said, with a confidential smile,
"I've had my—moments of irresponsibility, too. You needn't
think I've been without one or two—peccadillos, shall we say? I
dare say I've been as bold as any, in my time. But that is over now.
One sees one's responsibility and acts accordingly." He
shrugged. "It is a question of growth."

"
I expect it's something like that."

"
A few minor failures—what can one expect?
Absolutely unimportant. For example, that Indian servant you keep
around, the woman. But, in time, with your growing sense of
community—"

"That's my wife," Monday said, feeling the
sudden coldness in his chest.

Thurston smiled tolerantly. "Between men,
Monday—is that really necessary? There are certain natural needs to
be satisfied—one understands. But, the dignity of a title? Really.
Let's view these things honestly. After all, we have our—biology
haven't we? We can wink at a thing or two, even if the Methodists
cannot." He laughed.

Monday stood, placing his hands flat on the table.
"Thanks for coming by, Mr. Thurston."

The smile faded from Thurston's face. "Sit down,
Monday, " he said quietly "Theres one more thing."

"I got work to do."

"
I said, sit down." Thurston did not raise
his voice.

For a long moment they were static, the huge form of
Monday braced against the table, leaning tensely forward; Thurston,
relaxed, legs crossed, fondling the gold nugget that hung from his
watch chain, looking calmly up.

Then, reluctantly, and without volition of his own,
Monday sat down. He clasped his hands in front of him.

"No need to take offense, Monday," Thurston
said calmly. "I would simply indicate that the presence of that
woman is a handicap to you. Perhaps an insurmountable one, in time.
It is surely clear enough that while the Indian remains, it will be
impossible-"

"
You said there was one other thing."

Thurston shrugged negligently. "Very well,"
he said. "But in time I am certain you will see the nature of
the choice that exists for you. The other thing, Monday, is that you
may be called upon to give a bit more of your time in the interests
of the community."

"What now?" Monday said.

"There are reports of a wild man in the hills
about here. In time it will probably be necessary to form a vigilance
committee to root him out."

"What's he done?"

"Done? Nothing, as yet. But the danger he
represents is clear enough."

"Where the hell's the danger if he ain't done
anything?"

"Monday, please. You are being deliberately
naive. For one thing the Indians are convinced he is the Wild Man,
from the absurd mythological time of the First People. You
understand, it causes unrest."

"
Who's seen him?"

"He threatened one unfortunate in Oregon City
itself. The Indian reports he had blood running from his eyes, was
waving a rifle, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke."

Monday looked up in surprise. "You believe
that?"

"
Of course not. The Indian is telling the story
for fifty cents. But that the man exists, there is no doubt."

"Just some old solitary roamin' around,"
Monday said.

"
Doubtless. But that is precisely the question.
It is unnatural for a man to be what you call a solitary."

"Maybe it is, maybe it ain't," Monday
muttered, looking down at the table again. "Man wants to run
'lone, leave 'm be. That's his business."

Thurston stood at the table. "Fortunately,
Monday, it is not a question you are called upon to decide. A man
like that is not——whole. He is not in possession of his
faculties. When you speak in that way I am reminded of your mountain
background, and I find it discouraging. A man who 'runs 'lone' as you
phrase it, is a threat to those who would work together. He must be
dealt with. I should think that would be clear to you; in a sense it
has been the subject of our conversation."

"
Mr. Thurston, I ain't going to—"

"Monday," Thurston said impatiently, "I
have no intention of arguing the point any further. You may be called
upon to assist in this matter, and I have every expectation that you
will do so. It should not be necessary to point out that your
relation to the community is involved in this request, too."

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