The Golden Enemy (2 page)

“Why?” he cried to Doubtful. “What have they got against man?”

“I wouldn't know,” the dog mumbled worriedly. “My kind has always thought very highly of your kind. But something has been through here …”

“Something big and bright-colored that frightened all the creatures and changed how they think. What can it be?”

“Can't figure that one.”

“But didn't you smell something strange back there?”

“Thought I did once. It was way off, and faint.”

“What was it like?”

“Too faint to tell. Just a whiff of wild.”

“Wild? Everything around here is wild.”

“Not like that,” Doubtful said uneasily. “What I whiffed was
wild
wild, like nothing I'd ever want to meet. So maybe I didn't really whiff anything. I hope not.”

“You whiffed something,” Boy Jaim said. “Something very big and very bad—because that's the kind of something that came through here. But what was it?”

“Why ask me? There's no such creature. Except when I dream. I've always dreamed and whiffed things that don't exist. Maybe we've both been dreaming.”

“It would make better sense. Only, Grumble wasn't dreaming. Nor was her cub.” Boy Jaim halted and shook his head.

They had reached the edge of a deep stream that ran swift and clear between high rocky banks lined with immense trees. The trail forked here, with each fork going to distant spots that could be safely forded. In ancient times a bridge had spanned the foaming rush of water directly ahead, but the only sign of it now was a stained patch of rock where steel beams might once have been anchored.

He had planned to camp near here and catch fish for their lunch—a practice rather looked down upon now that man had outgrown his early urge for meat—but he had lost all desire for food. For the first time he was beginning to feel fear. The only large creatures on the planet—except the whales in the sea—were the bears, the deer, and the goats. Grumble herself was the biggest thing around, and even she wasn't very big.

Could the forest have been visited by a phantom?

He was almost willing to believe it, because poor Doubtful, who had terrible racial memories, was always dreaming about such things. Doubtful would often mutter and moan in his sleep, and wake up trembling to say that some horror had been after him. Something flesh-eating out of the past.

With a start, Boy Jaim realized that Doubtful was trembling now, and that the hair on the back of his neck was standing up straight.

“Hey, what's the matter?” he whispered.

“I whiff it again!” the dog told him. “And it's really
wild
wild. I mean
bad
.”

“Is the thing close?”

“Don't think so—but it's been past here. Last night, maybe, or early this morning.”

Doubtful moved hesitantly forward, then began working his way down around the rocks to a strip of sand at the water's edge. Abruptly he stiffened, and a low growl came from his throat.

With the air sled bobbing behind him on its line, Boy Jaim hastened down beside the dog. Now he could make out what the projecting rocks had hidden. His eyes widened. He gasped.

In the narrow strip of sand, clearly defined, was one impossibly large footprint pointing toward the river. A portion of a second print was still visible at the water's edge. By their shape a bear might have made them—but surely so monstrous a bear had never existed. Yet before him was the evidence of the prints. They were real.

“Great thunder above!” he whispered, awed.

He looked carefully around for prints leading out of the water. Seeing none, he realized the creature must have crossed the river here. He shook his head in amazement. Only a beast of incredible size and strength would have dared this dangerous stretch.

Where was the thing going?

He shivered as he studied the silent forest across the river. It had never looked forbidding before. Now it was a place of darkness and fear. But home lay in that direction. On foot, home was more than a day's journey ahead, though it could be reached in an hour or so by using the air sled.

Suddenly he drew the sled to him and motioned to Doubtful. “Get aboard. The hike's over.”

“We flying home?”

He nodded and snapped a safety line around Doubtful's small white body. “But not until we've located that—that beast. We've got to find it first, and learn all we can about it.”

Doubtful rolled his amber eyes unhappily. “I was afraid of that. Don't I meet phantoms enough in my sleep?”

As they rose and flew slowly across the river, he was suddenly thankful that his uncle, Andru, and the others had insisted that he take an air sled on the trip.

The day he mentioned going to the Barrens again, Andru had looked at him curiously a moment, then turned away with a little shake of his long gray head. It was the sort of reaction that everyone had when he spoke of going to the place. A visit to the Barrens was part of one's education, but one always went with a group, with someone like Emmon the Elder along to explain what was known of it. For most people one visit was enough. As for returning to it, alone …

“I suppose it's in your blood,” Andru told him. “Wanting to do the things you do. Just like Big Jaim. Well, this time I'd suggest you take one of the larger sleds—”

“But I planned to go on foot, sir.”

“On foot! Good heavens, why make it so hard for yourself?”

“Well, you miss things by
flying
over them,” he explained. “I want to follow one of the old trails all the way and see what I can locate.”

“But that will take weeks. How can you carry your camping equipment and enough extra food—”

“I wouldn't bother with carrying food, except some cakes for the bears. I'd rather live off the land.”

“Oh,” said Andru, who would have starved in the woods, even though he was one of the leading thinkers in the Five Communities. “Tell me, what in the world do you eat? Roots and things?”

Boy Jaim glanced across the room at his small cousin, L'Mara, who was busy at one of the looms. Suddenly uncomfortable, he said, “Well, you can find lots of wild food this time of the year. The plums and berries are getting ripe, and what with the mushrooms and asparagus—”

“
Fish eater!
” said L'Mara, so distinctly that for a moment it seemed she'd spoken aloud. His ears burned. Then he realized she was merely teasing him with a thought, for her lips hadn't moved. With her big bright eyes, her coloring and quick movements, she reminded him of a mischievous little squirrel, or maybe a chipmunk.

“
You've eaten it too
—
and liked it!
” he flung back at her silently, and marveled at the fact that they were the only ones in the family who could communicate like this. Usually, if a person had the ability—and it was not uncommon in the Five Communities—everyone closely related to him would also have it to some degree. But Andru didn't have even a touch of it, nor did Tira, his wife. His own parents hadn't had it—a lack that probably had cost them their lives, for when they failed to return from a trip years ago, no one knew what had happened or where to search for them.

L'Mara, intent on her weaving, said, “
I ate it only to please you, and I think it's horrid. It made me feel almost like a cannibal.
”

He knew she was still teasing by the impish look on her face, but before he could think of a retort, her mother, Tira, came in with a basket of new yarn for the other loom. She was a striking woman, with long, shining hair that was almost the color of gold. No one else in the Five Communities had hair that color. L'Mara's hair was bronze.

“Boy Jaim,” Tira said. “What's this about walking to the Barrens?”

When he explained, she said, “Now you're just being silly. If you want to walk part of the way to that awful place, then walk—but at least tow a small sled to carry things. After all, as long as a sled floats, it's weightless, no matter what you pile on it. Suppose you found something there you wanted to bring home?”

Andru snorted. “He won't find anything worth keeping. The inhabitants of that place were demented. Absolutely demented.”

L'Mara said silently, “
I think Father's wrong, at least partly, and that you could really find something wonderful if you look in the right spot. Please, bring me a present.
”

Her request decided him. He compromised finally on one of the smallest sleds; it had just enough power in its antigravity unit to lift Doubtful and himself and carry all their equipment. The next morning, before he left, L'Mara gave him his new cap. Though she was still a child, she was the best designer and weaver in their community, and the cap she had made was a marvel of patterning. Around its wide green band was an intricate design of leaping fish. She managed to present it to him without a flicker of a smile.

With the safety belt fastened around his waist, Boy Jaim lay flat on the air sled and peered over the bow at the forest below. The river was well behind them now and they were moving slowly southward, just above the treetops. The sled, he knew, was overloaded with the things he had found, and it was a heavy drain on the solar batteries to keep so much weight aloft. If the sunlight lasted, the batteries should recharge. It was disturbing, though, to see the mounting clouds drifting toward them from the east. The sled was too small to be caught in stormy weather.

“Do you whiff anything yet?” he asked Doubtful.

“It's hard to whiff anything up here. But this seems to be the right direction.”

“Maybe we'd better get down near the ground, just to make sure.”

“Please,” the dog begged. “It wouldn't be safe.”

“It would be safe enough for you. That beast hasn't hurt anything.”

“It hasn't hurt anything wild—but I'm not wild. My kind has lived with your kind too long. If it hates man, it would hate me.”

In spite of the day's warmth Boy Jaim shivered. He had never felt like this before. Why would the thing hate man?

“If I could just get a look at it …” he muttered.

“Do we have to?” Doubtful asked unhappily. “We already know what it looks like.”

“All we know is that it left a footprint like a bear, only the print was far too big. If it's a bear, it would stand as high as three men. And it isn't black like a bear, because the cub said it was shining.”

“Isn't that enough?” grumbled the dog. “It whiffs like a bear, so that's what it is—a shining monster of a bear, which makes it a phantom. I think we ought to forget the thing and go home.”

“But we can't do that. I've got to find it, and—and try to talk to it.”

“
Talk
to it? Oh, no!”

“But I've
got
to. Don't you understand? Everything in the forest has been friendly until now. Why, it's been ages since humans and other creatures—”

He was interrupted by a sudden questioning thought from L'Mara, calling from home. “
Boy Jaim, where are you? Is anything wrong?
”

For safety's sake he always kept in touch with her when he was away, but at the moment all thought of her had been driven from his mind. “
I'm all right,
” he told her. “
We're flying south of the river now, so we'll be back soon
—
if it doesn't turn too stormy.
”

“
But I know something's wrong. What is it?
”

“
It's nothing for you to worry about. I'll explain later.
”

“
Did you forget to bring me a present?
”

This was the first time she had mentioned it since he had left. “
I found something for you,
” he replied.

“
Oh, what is it? Please tell me!
”

“
I don't know,
” he admitted. “
But maybe Emmon can tell us. Meet me there this afternoon.
”

He glanced up at the approaching cloud bank, which was uncomfortably close. Then he forgot it when he saw the nearness of the trees.

The overloaded air sled had been using more and more power to stay aloft. Now, as he tried to send it higher, there was no response. Suddenly he realized the solar batteries were not recharging fast enough to make up for the extra drain upon them.

Doubtful gave a yip of fright as the sled brushed the top of a tree and tilted downward. “Oof! What's wrong?”

“Power's failing—we've got to land.” He looked frantically around for an open spot, but saw none.

They brushed through more leaves, scraped over a succession of limbs, and began drifting slowly into the shadows. They touched bow-first and settled lightly upon the deep leaf-mold that carpeted this part of the forest floor.

Even before they touched, Boy Jaim had ripped off his safety belt and turned to release Doubtful. The dog was trembling and the hair on his neck was standing up.

“Do you whiff it, Doubtful?”

“Yes—strong! What are we going to do?”

T
he youngest herder sat up with a start, not sure whether he had been dozing and dreaming, or simply imagining things. For a moment it seemed that his star really had a planet, and that he had been given a close look at it. Had he glimpsed people there like himself, and familiar creatures?
…

He decided he had only imagined it, but it didn't matter. He could pretend it was real. It helped to believe there might be another like himself out there … someone with the same thoughts and feelings, perhaps with troubles like his own
…

If it were man's old planet, there might be dangerous creatures on it, things that hated man.

Only, hatred had to have a reason
…

2

ENEMY

T
he first thing to do, Boy Jaim knew instantly, was to get away from this part of the forest, fast. The sled had hardly touched down when he snatched up the towline and leaped from it. Fear, a shattering sort of fear like nothing he'd ever felt before, sent him racing away over the tangle of creepers and fallen leaves, with the white dog scrambling beside him. The air sled, afloat again after being released of their weight, bounced erratically along behind him, scraping against trees and windfalls. It caught finally on a low-hanging limb and jerked him to a stop.