Pallahaxi

by Michael Coney

  A multitude of lorin stood around, motionless.

  They were completely defenseless. Empty-handed, they stared into the light without blinking, their eyes reflecting a deep crimson. They didn’t move. It seemed to me they were resigned to their fate. Lorin were known to be fatalistic creatures who accepted death without a struggle.

  But not this time, surely… .

  More lights, more humans, dancing shadows all around the cavern, shouts of discovery. Charm was gripping my hand tightly.

  What happened next came as a complete surprise.

  “Where the hell have they all gone?” said one of the humans in tones of amazement. “Jeez, I can smell them. They’ve only just got out of here.”

  The lorin stood still, in full view.

  “They must have heard us coming,” said someone else.

  The first human stepped forward. He was tall, dressed in a businesslike golden suit hung about with unidentifiable objects. A teat hung directly in his path.

  As he was about to walk straight into it, it swung gently out of his way.

  Cave-cow teats had never done that with me. They just hang there. I’d walked into a few of them. It can be startling, in the dark. But that particular teat swung out of the way of that human, on that occasion. I couldn’t understand it.

  What happened next was even more surprising. The human continued his slow walk, inevitably coming face to face with a lorin from time to time. They stepped aside quietly, allowing him to pass unimpeded. He didn’t glance after them. He didn’t even notice their shadows moving. It was eerie. It was as though he was selectively blind.

  “The lorin have got into their minds,” whispered Charm.

  “I didn’t know they could do that.” Then I remembered the way they’d saved me from the ice-devil.

  The human strode on more quickly, followed by five similarly-dressed companions. “We’re wasting our time in here,” said the man in the rear. “They can’t have got far. Let’s take the hopper up, maybe search in the infrared.”

  “Let’s shoot the place up a bit first,” said one of his followers, drawing a weapon from his belt.

  Charm’s grip tightened on my hand.

  “Put that thing away,” snapped the leader. “Do you want to bring the roof down on top of us?”

  “There’s something funny about this,” said someone else. “It’s like in the mine. The bastards have a knack of melting away. Sometimes I wonder if they’re really there at all, or just some kind of mass hallucination.”

  “They’re real enough,” said the leader grimly. “And they’re around here somewhere.”

  The flashlights swung here and there. Red-eyed lorin watched, motionless. A wide circle of light swung toward Charm and me. We held our breath. The light was dazzling, brighter than Phu himself. I couldn’t help but blink.

  The light moved on, probing the curve of the cave-cow. I don’t know what the humans saw, but they didn’t see us and they didn’t seem to be aware that they were inside an animal. Maybe it looked like a big sandstone cave to them.

  “We’re going to search every goddamned centimeter of these walls, and the tunnels at the far end. We’re not leaving here until I’m satisfied the place is empty. Goddamn it, I know they’re in here somewhere!”

  “If you say so. Personally, I’m convinced they’re not.”

  “That’s just because you want to be convinced. You were never in favor of this in the first place.”

  “Darned right I wasn’t. You can’t just go slaughtering an intelligent life-form in its own environment. The lorin have never shown any signs of hostility — quite the opposite.”

  “It depends on what you mean by hostility. I reckon the lorin are doing their best to wreck the mine project. That’s what I call hostility.”

  “Well, I think Sector Central are out of their tiny minds. Maybe they should try stepping down onto a real world sometime.”

  Arguing in a most satisfactory manner, they moved on down the cavern, lights darting here and there.

  I whispered, “It looks as though the lorin have everything under control. We should get out of here and report back to Mister McNeil.”

  It was warm and comfortable on the resilient flesh of the cave-cow, and I knew that if I didn’t move now, I could doze away for days.

  “You really want to go? How do you know your uncle Stance isn’t lurking out there with his friends, waiting for you to pop your head up? Trigger saw us pass through the village, heading this way. The news will have got through to Stance by now.”

  Now that was a thought.

  “We’d better make straight for Noss. It’s the only place I feel safe. We’ll send word to Mister McNeil from there. He’ll know the attack failed by then, anyhow. He’ll have had word from Devon Station. They’ll probably blame him for it.” I forced myself to stand and tugged at Charm’s hand. Like myself, she was reluctant to get up.

  “Come on!”

  “Hardy… . There’s a lorin holding me down.”

  Then I felt hands on me too. Gentle hands, pushing me back. “What’s going on?

  “I think they want us to stay awhile.”

  “How long, for Phu’s sake?”

  “No, lie back just for a moment. They’re trying to tell us something.”

  Her arms slid around me and I toppled down beside her. The lorin drew close; I could feel the breath of the nearest on my face. If it had been anything other than lorin I’d have been scared, and I’d have tried to fight them off. But it’s not possible to be scared of the lorin.

  “Look!” murmured Charm.

  A light appeared very close. Ghostly blue-white and with a definite outline, it was a single, big luminous fungus. I’ve hardly ever seen such things because, naturally enough, you have to be outdoors at night for that to happen. Close beside the fungus was the face of a lorin, dimly visible. It was pointing to its head, then at me.

  “What’s it trying to say?” I asked Charm.

  “I don’t know. Look.” The lorin was making a circular gesture with its forefinger. Then it placed its palms together and laid them by the side of its face in an unmistakable gesture.

  “Stardreaming!” exclaimed Charm. “It wants us to stardream!”

  “Why?”

  “Well, they seem to be able to read our thoughts. Maybe they want to pick up parts of our history while we’re stardreaming.”

  “Do we want them to do that?” It was difficult to be suspicious of the lorin, and a few days ago the thought would never have occurred to me. But the news that they were created by a spacefaring race of world colonizers had eroded my confidence somewhat.

  The lorin pointed to me, then held two fingers of its other hand above the single finger.

  “That’s your dad and mom, he means,” said Charm intuitively. I’d never have guessed it, myself.

  But the lorin shook its head.

  “Dad and Uncle Stance?” I guessed.

  The lorin nodded very deliberately, an imitation rather than a natural gesture. It took one finger away.

  “Dad?”

  A shake of the head. It stared at the single finger.

  “Uncle Stance?”

  The lorin nodded and bared its teeth in a parody of a grin. Then it made the circling gesture again.

  “It wants you to stardream about your uncle Stance,” said Charm definitely.

  “Why, for Phu’s sake?”

  “It knew you were wondering why your uncle wants to kill you. It’s trying to help.” She hesitated. “If the lorin can read our minds, they probably know more about us than we know ourselves. So you go ahead and stardream. I’ll do the same, but for me it’ll be just practice. I’m due to try for another couple of generations back, anyway. My mom always tells me I spend too much time sailing and fishing, and not enough time thinking. She says I should have been born a boy.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t.” The lorin was prodding my forehead urgen
tly with its finger. “All right, I’ll stardream about my uncle Stance, if that’s what you want.”

  I lay back and composed myself while the last shouts of the humans died away into the dark distance.

  The cave-cow was conducive to stardreaming, more so even than my pool. In fact, since the episode of the ice-devil, I doubted that I’d ever be able to stardream there again. Here, in the warmth and sense of timelessness, and the presence of Charm and the lorin, I slipped into a stardream very quickly, without even the need of hatch.

  I’d have liked to do a thorough job by using Dad’s recollections of Trigger’s birth as a starting point, but this was impossible because Trigger was conceived after me. So I began with the young Stance, filling in the gaps left by previous cursory stardreams. Somewhere in there, according to Charm and the lorin, lay the reason for Stance’s murderous intent.

  It seemed rather unfair that this reason, whatever it was, must relate to some event before I was born. But I couldn’t think of any event since my birth that could have so triggered Stance off. Certainly we didn’t like each other, but a person had to have a better reason for murder than that — particularly in our society.

  I stardreamed.

  Dad and Stance got along reasonably well as children, although even then it was clear Dad thought Stance was a pompous jackass. Stance was popular as a child because he always did the right thing, ever conscious that one day he would be manchief. Dad, on the other hand, was something of a rebel. A first child often rebels when his expectation of minor status is dashed by the birth of a second child of the same sex. It’s a big step down and it can cause resentment. Yet I detected no resentment of Stance in Dad’s memories.

  Oddly enough, I detected pity.

  I followed them back through their relatively uneventful childhood. We stilks don’t have the childhood upheavals that Mister McNeil has told us about: the new schools, the parents divorcing, the traveling and so on. Our learning is done by endlessly observing and listening to our elders; our parents separate long before our birth, and we rarely travel far outside our own village. The only real upheaval in our lives is the switch from the women’s village to the men’s. And only the boys experience that.

  Then I noticed something odd about the relationship between Dad and Stance.

  They never stardreamed together.

  Now that was unusual. Brothers will often engage in mutual stardreaming for the fun of later comparisons of the results, and for compiling a more complete set of memories for passing on. It’s good practice, too.

  But in all of Dad’s memories there was no recollection of him lying down with Stance in some pleasant spot and stardreaming. In fact there was no recollection of Stance stardreaming at all.

  Was this simply disinterest on Stance’s part? Hardly; one of the principle duties of a prospective chief is to stardream thoroughly, as far back as he has time for. And Stance was nothing if not dutiful. Was he in some way frightened of his ancestors’ memories? Or did he stardream in private, because he’d found certain ancient memories he didn’t want to discuss with Dad?

  Or was it some secret and profane belief?

  I recalled the heretical words Stance had spoken to me quite recently.

  “The past is gone; dead… . What matters is the future, and we must face it with fortitude and commonsense. We must cast a wide net in our struggle for survival. Too long we have dwelt in the past, and as a result we have continued to make the same mistakes, generation after generation.”

  And the insane look in his eyes as he’d said it.

  Convinced I was onto something, I worked my way rapidly back through Dad’s memories until they became too babyish to make sense. I came across Stance’s birth, which seemed to be attended by more excitement than usual. But then he was destined to be manchief, so you’d expect a certain amount of fuss.

  Stance, manchief. Stance, memories.

  And a recent memory: Stance’s peculiar lie over the past results of early crop sowing. Other incidents; small in themselves but adding up to an almost unbelievable whole.

  At that moment I got an inkling of the truth.

  “What’s the matter?” Charm spoke suddenly.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re shaking. Was it a bad stardream? I have those sometimes, and it’s nice to have someone bring you out of it.”

  “I think I know why Stance wants to kill me.”

  She uttered a squeak of excitement. “Hardy!”

  “But my dad put it under geas. I have to break that, if I’m going to be sure of the truth.”

  “Then break it.”

  “But Dad… . I mean, he had his reasons. I don’t like… .”

  “Hardy, my love.” She cuddled up close. “Your dad couldn’t have known your life might depend on knowing what was behind the geas, or he wouldn’t have invoked it in the first place. Don’t you see? He’d want you to break the geas.”

  “I’m not so sure. Geas is geas.”

  “All right then, do it for me!” she said impatiently. “We love each other and we want to be together for always. We can’t do that if you’re dead. So break the freezing geas for my sake!”

  And I had no answer to that.

  I stardreamed, starting again from Dad’s later memories… . Stance’s coming-of-age. His first pipe of hatch.

  “Easy, now,” said Granddad Ernest. “Don’t force it.”

  The witnesses stood around the walls. Stance sat on the floor puffing away, his immature face intent, memory hopping. After a while he frowned.

  “What is it, son?” said Granddad.

  Stance was silent for a long time. Dad watched him, puzzled. Stance didn’t look happy. In fact the poor fellow seemed to be actually crying. Those were tears, weren’t they, on his face?

  “What’s the matter?” asked Granddad sharply.

  And the geas came down.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” I muttered aloud. “I have to do it.”

  I felt Charm squeeze my hand, and I plunged into the geas. It was like a fog. Demons kept whispering, Go back. Go back. I ignored them, concentrating on Granddad’s last words, fighting my way forward as a man might wade through a bog. Forcing myself into Dad’s memories against his will.

  Suddenly I seemed to break free.

  “What’s the matter” asked Granddad.

  “I… . I wonder… .” Stance opened his eyes, brilliant with tears. “Can you help me, Dad?”

  “Help you? You don’t need help. You need concentration. Now get on with it, and stop your freezing whining. You’re making a fool of yourself in front of all these people!”

  Nobody spoke for a while, and I could sense a huge wave of compassion flowing from my Dad toward his brother. Granddad’s face was set like rock. Then suddenly my Dad spoke.

  “Maybe he should try some other time. It’s not easy with all these people around.”

  “Not easy? Not easy? By Phu, we’ve all been through this, every man and woman here!”

  The witnesses were shuffling uneasily. They couldn’t help being aware of the conflict, although Granddad and Stance had been talking in undertones.

  Suddenly: “All right, everybody go! Go on, get out! Get out! Granddad’s face was red with temper.

  They filed out, leaving my dad alone with Stance and Granddad.

  “We’ve never had to sent the witnesses away before,” snarled Granddad. “By Phu, you’d better pull yourself together, young man!”

  “I’m sorry,” mumbled Stance. “I can’t seem to… .”

  “You can’t what? Of course you can!”

  There was a long silence. Stance’s eyes were screwed up tight. He was shaking with effort. My dad became aware of an unpleasant stink. Suddenly Stance gave a great cry of despair. The pipe fell to the floor beside him, shattering. He hid his face in his hands, crumpling up into a heap, rolling over on his side. A pool of piss spread from under him, running in a rivulet down the sloping
flagstones toward the chair where Granddad sat. He jerked his feet up with a grunt of disgust.

  “It’s not his fault,” said my dad.

  “You’ve disgraced me in front of the whole freezing village, you stupid young freezer!”

  Stance lay there, twitching and wailing in his own piss.

  “There’s been people like this before,” said my Dad hesitantly. “People who can’t stardream. It doesn’t affect them in any other way. In fact they can be very clever, seeing things differently from us. Sometimes I think too many memories get in the way of our thinking. Maybe it’s no great disaster.” He bent over his brother. “How far back can you go, old fellow?”

  Stance responded to the kindliness. “Just… . Just my own memories. Before that there’s nothing. Not a freezing thing. Just emptiness.”

  “You’ve brought disgrace on the male line,” said Granddad heavily, his anger transformed to despair. He seemed to have shrunk, crouched in his chair.

  I sensed a flash of anger from my Dad. “You can’t blame him. You were the one that conceived him. It’s your fault. You passed on faulty genes.”

  “Faulty genes? What kind of silly talk is that? You’ve been mixing with too many humans, Bruno!”

  “All the same, lay off Stance.”

  During the silence that followed, I could feel my Dad’s quick anger abating, to be replaced by a certain compassion for his own father.

  “So what are we going to do?” said Granddad, beaten.

  “Best to do nothing. Just tell people Stance was nervous but now everything’s all right. They’ll believe you. You’re manchief.”

  “But if Stance is… . faulty, you should be the next manchief, Bruno.”

  “I’ve already said, it’s not Stance’s fault. He was born to be chief. I’ll not take that away from him.”

  “That does you a lot of credit. It won’t be easy for you. You’re going to have to back him up… .”

  I pulled back out of the stardream. I knew enough.

  I told Charm everything.

  “But how has he managed to hide it all this time?”

  “He’s cunning, in his way. And he cultivated an air of… I don’t know, a kind of arrogant omniscience. So nobody liked to question him. And there was always Dad, backing him up, giving him the benefit of his own memory lobe. Until he killed Dad.” So many things made sense, now.