It emphasized, if emphasis was needed, that to these Planiacs he was a piece of property, a chattel, a slave who could be forced to menial labor, or whipped, or even killed without anyone being concerned. His fate was a private affair which would trouble no one but himself. "Somebody's going to get gypped," he told himself angrily. A man as determined as he was to escape would be a bad bargain for Carmean or anyone else. In the final issue, he "thought, he'd take all necessary risks and he had just enough front-line army experience to make that mean something.
The bargaining was still going on. Carmean offered her own ship in return for Cargill and the Bouvy ship. "It's a newer model," she urged. "It's good for ten years without any trouble or fussing."
Bouvy’s hesitation was noticeable. "That isn't a fair offer," he said plaintively. "The Shadows will give you all the new ships you want. So you aren't offering me anything that means anything to you."
Carmean retorted, "I'm offering you what I can get and you can't."
"It's too much trouble," said Bouvy. "I'd have to move all our stuff."
"Your stuff!" The big woman was contemptuous. "Why, that junk isn't worth carting out! And besides, I've got a ship full of valuables over there."
Bouvy was quick. "It's a deal if you change ship for ship with everything left aboard."
Carmean laughed curtly. "You must take me for a bigger fool than I look. I'll leave you more stuff than you've ever seen but I'm taking plenty out."
Lela, who had been sitting silently, said, "You two are just talking. It makes no difference what you decide. I caught him and he's mine. That's the law, and you just try to use your position as boss to change it, Carmean."
Even in the darkness, Carmean's hesitation was apparent. Finally she said, "We'll talk about this some more tomorrow morning. Meantime, Bouvy, you'd better teach this kid of yours some manners."
"I'll do just that," said Pa Bouvy and there was a vicious undertone in his voice. "Don't you worry, Carmean. You've bought yourself a Tweener and If we have any trouble in the morning there's going to be a public whipping here of an ungrateful daughter."
Carmean laughed in triumph. "That's the kind of talk I like to hear," she said. "The old man's standing up for himself at last."
Still laughing, she walked off into the darkness. Pa Bouvy stood up.
"Lela!"
"What?"
"Get that Tweener inside the ship and chain him up good."
"Okay, Pa." She climbed to her feet. "Get a move on," she said to Cargill.
Without a word, moving slowly because of the chain, Cargill went inside and lay down on his cot.
It must have been several hours later when he awoke, aware that somebody was tugging at the chain.
"Careful," whispered Lela Bouvy, "I'm trying to unlock this. Hold still."
Cargill, tense, did as he was told. A minute later he was free. The girl's whisper came again, "You go ahead —through the kitchen. I'll be right behind you. Careful."
Cargill was careful.
7
Cargill lay in the dark on the grass feeling no particular urge to move. The sense of being free had not yet taken firm root inside him. The night had become distinctly cooler and most of the machines were dark. Only one ship still shed light from a half-open doorway and that was more than a hundred feet along the river bank from where he crouched.
Cargill considered his first move. More quickly now he began to realize his new situation. He need only creep out of this camp and then go where he pleased. At least it seemed for a moment as if that was all he had to do. However, he felt reluctant to take the first move.
In the darkness, progress would be difficult and morning might find him still dangerously close to the Planiacs. He imagined himself being seen from the air. He pictured a search party with an air support, finding him within a few hours after dawn. The possibilities chilled him and brought the first change hi his purpose. "If I could steal one of these ships," he thought indecisively.
There was a faint sound beside him and then the whispered voice of Lela Bouvy said, "I want you to take her ship. That's the only way I'll let you go."
Cargill turned in the darkness. Her words implied that she had a weapon to force him to obey her. But the darkness under the trees was too intense for him to see if she were armed. He didn't have to be told that "her ship" referred to Carmean's. His response must have been too slow. Once more Lela spoke.
"Get going."
Carmean's ship was as good as any, Cargill decided. He whispered, "Which is hers?"
"The one that's got a light."
"Oh!"
Some of his gathering determination faded. Carmean asleep and Carmean awake were two different propositions. In spite of his qualms he began to move forward. He could at least investigate the situation before making up his mind. A few minutes later he paused behind a tree about a dozen feet from Carmean's ship. The dim light that streamed from the partly open doorway made a vague patch of brightness on the grass. Near the edge of that dully lighted area Carmean herself sat on the grass.
Cargill, who had been about to start forward again, saw her just in time. He stopped with a gulp and it was only slowly that the tension of that narrow escape left him. He glanced back finally and saw Lela in the act of moving toward him. Hastily Cargill headed her off. He drew her into the shelter of a leafy plant, explained the situation, and asked, "Is there anybody else in the ship?"
"No. Her last husband fell off the ship three months ago. At least that was what Carmean said happened. She's been looking for another one ever since, but none of the men'll have her. That's why she wanted you."
It was a new idea to Cargill. He had a momentary mental picture of himself in the role of a chained husband. It shocked him. The sooner he got away from these people, the better off he'd be. And in view of their casually ruthless plans for him he need feel no sense of restraint. He whispered to Lela, "I'll jump on her and bang her over the head. Have you got anything I can hit her with?" He felt savage and merciless. He hoped the girl would give him her gun. Just for an instant then, as she slipped something metallic into his hand, he thought she had done so.
She whispered fiercely, "That's from the edge of your cot. It'll look as if you got free and took it along as a weapon."
Her logic was not entirely convincing to Cargill, but he saw that she was trying to convince herself. And it was important that there be some kind of explanation for his escape. Bouvy would undoubtedly be furious with her.
Cautiously, Cargill stole forward. As he reached the shelter of the tree near Carmean the big woman climbed heavily to her feet.
"So you finally got her, Grannis," she said to somebody Cargill couldn't see.
"Yes," said a voice from the other side of the tree behind which Cargill, rigid now, crouched. The man's voice went on, "I couldn't make it any sooner."
"So long as you could make it at all," said Carmean indifferently. "Let's go inside."
Just what he expected then, Cargill had no idea. He had a brief, bitter conviction that he ought to attack both the stranger and Carmean and then:
A Shadow walked into the lighted area.
Morton Cargill stayed where he was, behind the tree. His first feeling of intense disappointment yielded to the realization that there was still hope. This was a secret midnight meeting. The Shadow who had come to talk to Carmean would leave presently, and there'd be another opportunity to seize the ship.
He began cautiously to back away and then he stopped. It seemed to him suddenly that perhaps he ought to overhear what was being said. He was planning how he could do it when Lela slipped up behind him.
"What's the matter?" she whispered angrily. "Why are you standing there?"
"Sh-h-hh!" said Cargill. That was almost automatic. He was intent on his own purposes, feeling now that anything that concerned the Shadows could concern him. "I've got to remember," he told himself, "that I was brought here by someone who intended to use me."
His captur
e by Lela was an unfortunate incident not on the schedule of the original planners. He paid no attention to the girl but slipped from behind the tree and headed for Carmean's floater. He reached the door safely and flattened himself against the metal wall beside it.
Almost immediately, he had his first disappointment. The voices inside were too far away from him to hear. As had happened when Carmean talked to Pa Bouvy earlier, only occasional words came through.
Once, a man's voice said: "When was that? I don't recall agreeing to that."
A little later, Carmean's voice lifted to audible pitch on a triumphant note. "Don't worry about us. We'll be ready in case there's a hitch-up."
The voices came closer.
"All right now," the Shadow was saying, "let's go and get this man Cargill. I won't feel right until he's safely in our hands again."
Cargill waited for no more. Swiftly, but cautiously, he backed away along the side of the ship. In the darkness under the curving nose of the machine he crouched tensely. The light on the grass in front of the door brightened as the door was opened wider. The Shadow stepped out.
Beyond and through him, a tree was visible. He had a head and body shaped like a man, and as he paused, half turning, waiting for Carmean, his eyes were clearly visible. They were shadow eyes for they did not glitter hi the light. But dull though they were, they were unmistakably eyes.
Carmean came out. She said, "I want to get this straight. I keep this guy Cargill in my ship until I hear from you?" There was satisfaction in her tone.
"Exactly," was the grim reply. "And if I send word bring him without delay. You'll get all the men you want when the time comes." He broke off. "Which ship?"
Cargill didn't catch what Carmean said but she must have indicated the direction. They moved off, out of the spread of light into the greater darkness.
Lela came hurrying from her hiding place. She paused breathless in the night beside him. "Quick," she whispered. "We'll have to get aboard and leave."
"We?" said Cargill. There was no time to talk about the implication of the plural. Clear and loud in the night air came the sound of a knock on metal and then Carmean's voice.
"Bouvy, open up! It's me."
The discovery of his escape was seconds away. Cargill reached the doorway of Carmean's ship, paused only long enough to let Lela get in ahead of him and then he was inside.
"You get the ship into the air," he whispered. "I'll hold them off here." He wasn't sure just what he would do against guns but he had a vague notion that it was important to keep the door open until the ship was actually rising into the air.
There was a prolonged pause and then: the ship tugged slightly under him. Cargill held his breath, counting the seconds as the floater drifted upward.
Presently, with shaking fingers, he closed the door and called to Lela, "Can you turn off the lights?"
There was silence, then darkness. Cautiously Cargill opened the door again and carefully he peered out. The top of a tree glided by, only inches below. The slow way in which it passed from sight emphasized that the speed of these light-powered ships at night was negligible.
Lela's voice came faintly from forward. "I'm trying to get her out over the river. There'll be more light there. Anybody following?"
Cargill couldn't be sure. He was looking down slantingly at a camp that was slowly coming to life. Even that minimum activity was fairly well hidden behind dense foliage. He saw splashes of light and there was the sound of excited voices. But if any ship rose up to follow them during those first minutes Cargill did not see it.
Under him the machine seemed to quicken its pace. He looked down and saw that they were over the river. And now he could understand Lela's purpose. The water was alive with light reflections. He estimated that they were traveling at least ten miles an hour.
The camp slowly vanished behind a bend in the river. When he could no longer see it, he closed the door and headed for the all-room. It was somewhat larger than the similar room in the Bouvy’s ship but it was functionally the same. He glanced into the control room.
Lela was in the control chair. She did not look at him Cargill hesitated, then went back to the door. He opened it and spent the next hour gazing into the night. The moon came up while he sat there and the ship accelerated perceptibly. They were still only a few feet above the forest.
8
The minister listened with a scowl to Cargill's objections. He was a big, grim man, and his problem must have been to understand what Cargill was trying to say. His scowl transferred abruptly into an expression of astounded fury. "Well, I'll be darned," he said. "A Tweener trying to get out of marrying one of our girls—" Without warning, he launched a ham-like fist at Cargill's head.
Cargill ducked just in time to avoid the full impact of the blow. The huge fist seared along his cheek and sent him staggering across the room.
He came back, with narrowed eyes, body crouching low for the attack. From his left, Lela said sharply, "I'll sting your foot with this spitter. I'll burn you so you won't ever walk again. Don't you go starting a fight now."
The threat stopped Cargill. He had a tense conviction that Lela might actually have an impulse to lame him anyway. Then he'd never be able to get away.
"Sadie!" bellowed the minister. It was like a cue. A small woman catapulted through the door and came up breathlessly.
"Yes, Henry," she said.
"Watch this Tweener scum," he said, "while Miss Lela and I"—he smiled knowingly—"make the arrangements. These forced Tweener weddings cost a little extra, you know." He and Lela went out of the room.
Cargill walked over to the window. Through the glass he could see the floater that had belonged to Carmean. It was less than a hundred feet away. "If I could get inside it," he thought, "I could be away from here in ten seconds." Unfortunately, Lela had taken the precaution of locking the door of the floater. He grew aware that the small woman had edged up beside him.
"I know something," she said in a loud whisper.
Cargill glanced at her, repelled by the avaricious look on her face and in her narrowed eyes. He said nothing.
Once more, the woman whispered hoarsely, "I heard the news on the radio this morning." She didn't wait for him to react to that, but rushed on eagerly, "What'll you give me if I tell the old man Carmean is against this wedding?"
The mystery of her demeanor was solved, and the implication it carried of this ministerial couple of the future was not pretty. He decided not to be critical. Hastily, he searched his pockets and held out the contents for her to look at. A pencil, a ball pen, a key ring with keys, some silver money, and his wallet.
The woman examined them with visible disappointment. "Is that all you got?" she asked. Suddenly, her face brightened. She reached over and touched his wrist watch. "What's that?"
Cargill unstrapped it and held it up to her ear. "It tells the time," he said. He wondered if it were possible that these people had no knowledge of watches. He couldn't remember if he had seen a timepiece aboard either the Bouvy floater or Carmean's ship.
The little woman looked disgusted. "I've heard of these things," she said, "but what good are they? The sun comes up in the morning and the sun goes down at night. That's good enough for me."
Cargill, who was learning fast, reached forward and took the watch from her fingers. "I can use it, if you can't," he said. "Now, I want you to tell me a couple of things."
"I'm not talking," said the woman.
"You'll talk," said Cargill, "or I'll tell your husband what I just gave you."
"You didn't give me anything."
"You can argue that out with him," said Cargill.
The woman hesitated, then said sullenly, "What do you want to know?"
"What did the radio say?"
The prospect of imparting information excited her. She leaned forward. "Carmean says you're to be caught. She says you're wanted by the Shadows. She says not to let any wedding take place." The woman's face twisted. "I never did like
that woman," she said savagely. "If—" She stopped and drew away several paces.
Lela and the minister came back into the room. The girl was pale, the man angry.
"No deal," he said. "She won't pay me what it's worth."
"We'll live in sin," Lela said palely. "You've had your chance."
"You live in sin," retorted the minister, "and I'll bring the wrath down on your head."
Lela tugged at Cargill's arm. "He wanted me to change our ship for an old wreck he's got. Come on."
Cargill followed her, not quite sure how he should respond to what had just happened. He remembered his earlier thoughts about religion and "preachers," and, though this incident fitted, he was unwilling to let what he had just seen either affirm or decry his previous opinions. What was astonishing was that both Lela and "Henry" took the latter's ministerial powers for granted. Each accepted, somehow, that souls were involved, and that punishment was possible on the soul level. "Suppose," Cargill thought, "there is a soul, or at least that behind all the excitement of fifty thousand years of human soul-hunger, there is actual phenomena?"
It was hard to imagine that the reality had ever been more than vaguely glimpsed. People had been too rigid. All too frequently the vast powers of the state had been used to enforce an inflexible set of beliefs. And, where a breakaway was not a mere denial, the individuals somehow assumed they believed in a simple soul state-of-being. In connection with this, the word "immortal" was bandied about in such a loose fashion that it was instantly evident that no one had ever seriously thought about it.
The whole thing was disturbing because as a very concrete example of immortality, he had survived his normal death time by nearly four hundred years. Accordingly, for him the reality, or unreality, of the soul, or life force, or spirit, or whatever it might be, was more than just the academic thing it was to most people.
He was caught up in an astounding experience which surely involved all the actuality of the life process, the known and the unknown, including the hidden meaning behind the soul phenomena of ten thousand religions and a hundred thousand gods.
The Universe Maker Page 5
