The Golden Enemy (14 page)

10

THE BARRENS

D
uring the brief period that he managed to sleep, Boy Jaim dreamed of the days behind him. It began as a happy dream, full of birdsong, of the time when he and Doubtful roamed the forest together and all creatures were his friends. Then abruptly the dream changed. Terror came, and the world turned red with a great burning …

He sat up suddenly, wide awake on the instant. It was morning, but no song of birds greeted him. Over the silent forest the sun had risen—a red sun, monstrous and flaming, in a sky like brass.

He gaped at it in awe. Was the world coming to an end? But when L'Mara called a moment later he managed to hide his fears and pretend there was little to worry about.

“
It's just gas or something in the upper air
,” he assured her. “
Have you been able to talk to Emmon about it?
”

“
Yes
,” she replied. “
He said what you did earlier
—
that volcanoes are causing it. He thinks they must be spouting up from the sea somewhere. Everybody's afraid. But Emmon said if the volcanoes are far enough away, we may not have too much to worry about, even though there are bound to be earthquakes. What
—
what do you think, Boy Jaim?
”

He hesitated. Emmon, of course, was doing his best to keep people calm until there was more information. It came to him with a jolt that what was happening now was hardly a beginning and might have no connection whatever with the great terror that was coming. He could not even guess the nature of it, but he knew it was approaching fast. It was only hours away. Hours …

Suddenly he said, “
Tell Emmon to take some of his bees inside and put them deep in the safest part of his hill. And he'd better do the same with some of the goats.
”

“
But
—
but why?
”

“
I
—
I don't know. It's just an idea. Suppose something poisonous in the air killed off all the bees and goats
—
and don't think it can't happen. Do you realize there'd never again be any honey and milk?
”

“
Oh, how awful! But all the Elders are advising us to move out of the houses until this is over. Earthquakes
—”

“
There may be earthquakes
—
I don't know yet. Just tell Emmon what I said. Now I've got to hurry and find that bear. There isn't much time …
”

How many hours did they have? Four? Five? All he had to go on was a sudden feeling of urgency, as if a string were being slowly tightened in his mind. In rising uneasiness he sent his thoughts probing through the forest. They touched upon nothing living.

Was the Golden One dead? His jaws knotted and he shook his head, refusing to consider the possibility. The great bear had to be alive. Probably it had reached the Barrens and was out of range of his probing.

The sled was afloat again in the morning sun. Impatiently he sent it skimming over the forest, in the same direction he had flown during the night. In the unnatural heat a growing thirst began to trouble him. For a long while he managed to ignore it, but finally it became a torment.

The unpleasant white gleam of the Barrens in the distance reminded him of the scarcity of water ahead, and of the foolishness of going on without it. He changed course and presently slid down beside one of the small streams that flowed into the river.

To save time he gulped a few quick swallows from the stream, then hurriedly searched through the sled's locker for an old plastic bucket, which he cleaned out and filled. In less than a minute he was on his way with the bucket between his knees.

Now the burning heat seemed worse, and he thought longingly of the covered sled he should have taken last night. He sipped from the bucket, splashed a little water on his face, then grimly tried to concentrate on locating the bear.

Ahead the white gleam broadened. It spread to the horizon as the forest below him began to thin and diminish. Still his probing thoughts touched nothing that seemed alive.

He slowed, then let the sled drift, while he carefully went over the area ahead with eye and mind. In the stillness the sun's blistering touch was almost unbearable. Its brassy glare upon the Barrens seemed to intensify the awfulness of the place.

It was a vast stretch of utter desolation, a desert of scorched sand and worn gray rubble unrelieved by a single tree. Even after all the rain the only green to be seen was in an occasional scabrous patch of cactus. Here and there in the pitted rubble—there were depressions and pits everywhere—rose curious shapes of eroded stone. The shapes might once have been buildings, though it seemed impossible that man had ever lived here—and that man alone could have been responsible for such a nightmare world.

Boy Jaim's attention kept returning to a sunken area in the distance. It twisted like a deep scar across the rubble. As with many of the other depressions, it could have been caused by a cave-in. He flew to it and began drifting along one edge. Suddenly he became sharply attentive as he sensed feeling of some kind below him.

For a moment he thought it was pain that he sensed. Then, with a little shock, he realized it was thirst.

The Golden One lay motionless in the shadow of the ravine wall, the arrow still protruding from high on the left shoulder. The great beast's eyes were closed. If breath remained in the mighty body, Boy Jaim could not have detected it from outward signs. It was only by that silent and almost mindless craving for water that he knew his enemy still lived.

For a moment, as he stepped cautiously from the sled, he wondered if this could be another trap. Then, a dozen yards away in the shadow, he saw the deep pool of rainwater, with no tracks leading to it. The truth was evident. Water had drawn the creature here, but it had collapsed before the pool could be reached. Now the great bear was dying.

Boy Jaim snatched up the bucket he had brought, and ran and poured its contents into the Golden One's partially open mouth. Retreating, he stood tense, waiting. Seconds passed. The bear did not move.

Abruptly his attention went to the arrow. Had all the poison been dissolved from the point? What would happen if he pulled the thing out?

Again he ran forward, seized the arrow and quickly withdrew it, and flung it away. Black liquid oozed from the bear's shoulder. He caught up the bucket, raced to the pool and filled it, and poured water over the wound. Cleansed, the wound almost magically began to close and heal.

He brought more water, let some of it drip into the monstrous mouth, then left the bucket beside it on the sand and hastened back to the sled. With the strung bow in his hand and one of the remaining black-tipped arrows on the string, he stood grimly watching his enemy.

A tremor shook the great golden body. At last, very slowly, the creature's head came up and turned to the bucket. When the water was gone, Boy Jaim brought more, and still more, until the terrible thirst was quenched.

Now from the Golden One, weakly, came the first directed thought. “
Why … spare me now … Boy Jaim?
”

Muscles knotted in Boy Jaim's jaws. “If you feel any gratitude for being spared, you can easily repay me.”

The beast's eyes flickered open, then closed. “You … still wish to know … the thing that will happen?…”

“Yes!”

“You honestly think … your people … are worth it?”

“Of course they're worth it!” Boy Jaim cried. “What right have you to decide such a matter as life and death?”

Something like a sigh came from the Golden One's throat. “No more right than man … but man has always taken that right. Don't you realize … that you belong to a race of destroyers? The most terrible … and uncaring … destroyers this planet has ever known?”

“I don't believe it!”

“It is the truth.”

Boy Jaim trembled with sudden anger. “I didn't follow you here to listen to your crazy ideas about people! I came to save them! What's going to happen?” He raised the bow and drew back on the arrow. “Tell me!” he cried. “Tell me—or by the stars above, I'll make you burn with another dose of poison—and this time you'll die!”

“Then … you had better kill me,” the creature replied. “If all men were like you … they might be worth saving. But they are not … So it is better that they perish …”

Slowly the great head raised. The black eyes opened. “Shoot, Boy Jaim!”

Boy Jaim stared desperately at his enemy. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but for the moment he could not. He trembled. Suddenly, in angry frustration, he flung his bow aside. Tears came to his eyes.

All at once he cried out, “What—what in the name of God has man ever done to you?”

“He destroyed all of my kind, Boy Jaim.”

“That can't be true! Unless—unless it was for self-protection. Anyhow, it's been hundreds of years since people were last forced … but you couldn't possibly be old enough to remember—”

“I am older than you think, Boy Jaim. And my memory goes back before my time. Long before. It is not pleasant to remember so much—especially when one is alone. It was not for self-protection that man killed my kind. He did it for sport.”

“You—you're wrong! You're bound to be. No one
ever
took life for the fun of it. For food, maybe, or to save himself—I know early man ate flesh, but that was ages ago. You can't tell me—”

“Look at me, Boy Jaim.”

Against his will, Boy Jaim found himself staring into the Golden One's cold ebony eyes. The great beast was stronger now, and there was power in the thought that commanded him:
Gaze into the past. Remember what you see.

Suddenly everything around him vanished. Instead of being in a ravine in the Barrens, he stood on the edge of a wooded hill with a great house in the background. Before him men and women with guns were shooting at birds being frightened past by servants in the meadows below. To one side was a great pile of dead birds. They were not being shot for food, for other servants were arranging huge platters of food on tables under the trees.

For a moment of shock Boy Jaim could not believe the evidence of his eyes. But he could hear the sharp booming of the guns, the gay talk of the shooters, and smell the rich odors of the food. In rising horror he cried out against the sight.

Instantly the scene changed. In swift succession he saw the slaughter of countless grazing creatures, of great animals unknown to him, and of proud and beautiful beasts that no man would ever see again. Not for food were they hunted. They went down in red pain for the glory of the hunter, who kept only their spotted skins, or their horns, or their trophy heads. The last to die were two huge bears, who fought man to the final breath to save a golden cub. The cub escaped, to wander forever alone …

“Stop it!” Boy Jaim screamed, putting his hands over his eyes. “Stop it! I've seen enough!”

Abruptly he was in the Barrens again, in the ravine facing the Golden One. Gasping, sick at heart, he fell back against the rocky wall and stared at his enemy.

“What—what kind of trick was that?” he managed to say hoarsely.

The great beast was much stronger. The huge head was higher, and the black eyes were watching him intently. “It was no trick, Boy Jaim. You saw a little of what really happened, exactly as it happened. Surely you've heard of the Pool of Knowledge?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then you know that nothing is lost, ever. What you saw was there in the past. I merely helped you to see it.”

Boy Jaim swallowed. “And the future—it is also there, and you can see it as clearly?”

“I can see it—but it is never as clear, for it has not yet happened. Often the details are obscure. You are one of the details, Boy Jaim, that has given me trouble.”

“I—I don't understand.”

“Our fight is not finished,” the great beast told him warningly, as muscles rippled under the golden hide. “We are only at a stalemate. If you are wise, you will kill me now while you still have the chance. Soon I will be as strong as ever.”

Boy Jaim retreated. Grimly he caught up his bow again. “If only you hadn't killed poor Doubtful …”

“I am truly sorry about your dog. Truly. I had no intention of hurting it.”

“I see. You intended only to get rid of me.”

“Of course, Boy Jaim.”

“But why?” he cried. “Why?”

“Because of what you are. You are not like the others of your kind. If I had killed you, it is almost certain that the race of man would soon be ended—and that other creatures would finally have a chance. But now—who knows? So long as you are alive, I cannot see the end.”

Boy Jaim looked at the monster in astonishment. “You—you mean you were afraid I might be able to see into the Pool of Knowledge and warn people in time to save them?”

“There was that possibility.”

“But I can't!” he said bitterly. “I haven't learned how. All I know is that the thing—whatever it is—is almost on us.”

Abruptly he raised the bow. “But
you
know!” he cried in a shaking voice. “You murderous scheming devil, you've tricked me and killed my dog and done everything you could to destroy my people. What's going to happen? Tell me! Tell me fast—or I'll drive every arrow I've got into you, and you'll burn and burn inside, and burn again—”

“Shoot! I wish you would.” The obsidian eyes glittered. “You did me no favor when you gave me water and saved my life. I have lived far too long. And all alone. You do not know what it is to be forever alone, for years without end … and wander the empty islands, and the wastes of the world …”

Boy Jaim stood trembling, momentarily speechless. In the terrible urgency of the moment he had entirely forgotten the heat. How do you tear information from a creature so obdurate, so fearless of death, so immune to threat?