Mark grinned.
“How you do run on. Scrambling similes and mixing metaphors. From rotten apples to railroads.”
Nona, at this point, indicated that she was still with them. “I think it was very wise to get off the subject of religion,” she said. “From my readings it would appear that whenever people argue about religion they become bad friends. And the argument never accomplishes anything, anyway. Each goes away believing just as he always believed, except that he now thinks less of the other. Then too, the whole thing is of little importance, for there have always been devils who went to church and angels who didn’t. What you believe isn’t nearly so important as how you use what you do believe.”
Mark and Omega looked at each other. Neither spoke for a moment, and both knew the sheepishness men feel when a mere woman puts a simple end-mark to a complicated and sterile masculine harangue.
“There might be something in what she says,” Mark, deflated, admitted.
Chapter 14: Harbor of Women
CROSSING the Atlantic in a Viking ship turned out to be a long drawn out process. When the wind failed the vessel was propelled by oars, but the speed was agonizingly snail-like.
As the journey wore on, Mark found himself liking more and more the hardy crew. Sven, particularly, he found to be congenial company. And, as Omega had predicted, the Norsemen came to accept him as one of them, without any reservation on the score of his peculiar talents. That they were associating with a man who had been singled out to be favored with special gifts from a god, was a matter of course. Such things had happened before, had, they not? It was just their good luck to meet up with one so favored.
Several times during the journey the disturbing recollection of Omega’s story of the two Russians, came to plague Mark during the long night hours when he was trying to sleep.
Peculiar thing, this sleep business. Omega had assured him that although he really didn’t require sleep with his new blood, he would nevertheless find himself able to whenever he wished. The explanation had something to do with habit, and the fact that the race had been accustomed to sleeping a certain percentage of the day.
The idea may have been very sound, and it certainly did apply in Nona’s case, but Mark, who had always been an insomniac, found that the theory did not work out in practice.
There were times, of course, when he did manage to compose his thoughts and woo the elusive somnolent state, but far more often he would find his mind racing away to cope with imaginary problems, or perhaps to review some incident in his past and deciding how he would act if the episode were to be lived over.
At such times he would curse his inability to control his mind, and would try mightily to lead his thoughts to calmer channels. This, naturally, would make him even more wide-awake, and he would give up and go outside to pace the deck or talk to the crew. This increased his knowledge of the manners and customs of the Vikings, and due to his willingness to listen and learn, he always found an eager tutor.
Occasionally he would take part in a wrestling match with one of the crew. This was a popular sport among the Norsemen, who admired strength greatly. In fact it was his ability at this pastime which accounted mainly for his rise in popularity. For at one time or another he defeated every man on board. This was not due to any great skill or superior knowledge of the art, but rather to the fact that he was tireless.
Whenever he found himself clamped in a hold beyond his ability to break, he would just relax and wait for his opponent to tire. And even with his most powerful adversary this was sure to happen, for it takes a lot of energy to maintain a punishing hold. And when the Norseman had tired sufficiently Mark would proceed to pin his shoulders to the mat.
But eventually his companionship with the crew grew tiresome. He learned all he could from them, and they certainly were not brilliant conversationalists. Their stories of past exploits were entertaining but they all began to sound alike. And so he would spend nights in his cabin where Nona was sleeping as peacefully as a baby, and think. And he was surprised how logical and coherent his thought processes became with practice.
He realized that he had really never thought before. Now he found that he not only was cerebrating abstractly, but enjoying it. Here was another side of the coin Omega had paid out when he spoke of the quicker progress that should be made by a race of men with Mark’s characteristics.
THE average human spent the greater portion of his day working to keep his stomach full, and the better part of the night sleeping. All this time was free to the man with Mark’s peculiar attributes, and it followed that even in an ordinary lifetime much greater progress could be made in the matter of mental development. If only he could control those vagrant thoughts that insisted upon troubling him, those nights would be a pleasure. He began to consider the two Russians Omega had told him about. Brains equal in capacity to the mighty mind of Omega, yet twisted so that human suffering meant nothing compared with the enjoyment of seeing some experiment work itself out.
These minds were a constant menace to any progressive civilization. It might even be that they would refuse to allow any advanced civilization ever to develop. It seemed likely that such minds would take steps to prevent the development of other brains that might at some future date challenge their right to ride rough-shod over the rights of others. Here was a problem that some day must be faced. And the future of his own descendants was at stake, for the Russians, when they finally returned to their earthly habitation, would be quick to see the possibilities of this new race.
Yet it seemed hopeless to try to figure any way of combating a danger that Omega admitted was too much for him.
Several times, however, he felt he had almost caught the answer. But whenever this happened, some fleeting idea on an entirely unrelated theme would break his train of thought. It was exasperating; he would try for hours to recapture the sequence of thought which had led to that almost-point, only to fail and give up in disgust. On such occasions he would be irritable for hours afterward; Nona was very patient with him then, and he loved her more than ever.
That elusive train of thought always started with the doubt that the Russians were as powerful as Omega believed. He had Omega’s word that the ability of a brain increased with age. And certainly he was immeasurably older than the comparatively youthful composite Russian brains.
From that premise the thought followed that in all probability the Russians had not nearly the control over the forces of nature that Omega had. They would be, after a mere four thousand years, and having sprung from an intellectually inferior race, only tyros in the use of their powers. It was possible that they were accomplishing their ends by forcing their wills through hypnotism on the peoples with whom they experimented. This, he realized, would be a juvenile method to Omega. A child’s meaningless trick.
But there the train of thought always ended. He could never co-relate these deductions to any logical conclusion. No plan of action resulted. Sometimes he would carry the matter further than others, but always he would wind up against a stone wall. The reason for it probably lay in the fact that these thoughts of the Russians always crept in at a time when he was concentrating on some other subject. And his mind, not yet as capable as it was later to become, would veer back to the original train of thought, leaving him worse off than when he started.
For he would realize that as he tried to continue one he had lost the other. And the realization angered him. It seemed that no matter how brilliantly his mind functioned during these long, quiet nights, there was always this business of the Russians to annoy him. Sooner or later he would have to settle the thing or he would be receiving his mail in some Viking psychopathic ward.
OMEGA, who was staying with them for some reason that Mark was not able to fathom, noticed the periods of ill-humor, but refrained from remarking upon them. Mark often wondered whether his mind was being probed without his knowledge, but Omega had never given any indication that he did this. It was possible that Omega was staying
because he realized what was troubling Mark and wanted to see just how he would manage to solve the problem.
The voyage was coming to the close of its third month when a lookout in the rigging announced that land was in sight. Excitement ran high among the Norsemen until it was determined just what land it was. Their navigation instruments were pretty inaccurate, Mark discovered, and a captain who hit land less than two or three hundred miles from his port was considered a distinctly superior seaman. This time, however, it quickly determined that they were heading directly toward the home port, a point on the coast of Norway once known as Stadtland.
Mark looked knowingly at Omega, for it was obvious that all the others were very much surprised at this unusual navigation. Sven seemed to be very puffed up about the whole thing.
Omega grinned. “We were headed for the coast of Spain until I made a few corrections,” he admitted to Mark. “It’s a miracle these lads ever get anywhere. Their seamanship is more to nerve than brains. I feel sorry for them, now, though. They don’t know what is in store for them.”
Mark was alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ll find out when we land.” Beyond that Omega would say nothing.
The sail was furled as the ship approached the little cove that comprised the harbor. People had gathered on shore to welcome them; and beyond were the solid-looking houses of a small town. Further in the background was a stone structure, something on the order of a medieval castle, but smaller.
“There don’t seem to be many on shore,” remarked Sven, peering under his shading hand. “They appear to be mostly women. By the Aesir, they are all women! Have we become outcasts that we should be greeted by women?”
His voice was angry.
There were echoing growls from others among the crew, but the men were too glad to be home to be upset by such a minor matter. Probably their king had organized a large hunt and the men were all away. The crowd was swelling in size, but there were still nothing but women. And they watched silently. No cheer went up. No hand waved. No mouth smiled.
Chapter 15: Soldiers — to War!
UNDER the drive of many oars the vessel soon was beached. With shouts, the Norsemen leaped into the shallow water and waded ashore. Sven helped the ancient over the side and then waded on ahead. Mark was looking ahead at the first of the Norsemen to arrive on land. He guessed that bad news awaited them and he wondered how bad it would be. The men’s glad shouts died out as more and more of them reached the crowd on the beach. Sven had already talked to one of the women and waded part-way out again. Then he stopped, passed a hand before his face, and stood silent and bewildered.
“What is it, Sven?” Mark demanded, gripping his arm.
The giant looked up blankly, then shook his head. “My father — my sons — dead!” he mumbled. “Dead — and my boy Sven would soon have been a man.”
The story his bereaved wife had told him came stumbling from his lips.
Only a month before, the town had been attacked by strange nomads. The defenders fought with the fury of demons; but the invaders kept coming in countless thousands and at last overwhelmed them. Every townsman was slaughtered, and when no more resistance was forthcoming the horde entered the homes and killed all the boys, even to the tiniest baby. No girls or women were even molested. After their mission had been accomplished the invaders marched away and disappeared into the forest.
The following days had been busy ones for the surviving women, who were left with the task of burying their dead. With relief they had greeted the arrival of two shiploads of returning seamen a week after the catastrophe. But on the following day the invaders had reappeared and massacred these, again leaving a town bereft of men. Now the women were entreating these new arrivals to leave, lest they too, lose their lives. And their wives, mothers and daughters were begging to leave with them.
Sven turned to Omega and asked for advice, but Mark interrupted. “Have the ship provisioned immediately. We set sail as soon as it can be done.”
Sven looked his astonishment. “But we can’t leave the women. Suppose the invaders return?”
“Could you do anything if they did? I am offering the only possible chance for revenge and freedom from another attack. Order the ship provisioned. It’s all right, Sven. I have a plan.”
Sven, still bewildered, looked to Omega for guidance. A nod answered him, and Sven set about his task with a flurry of activity. The whys and wherefores were not important as long as he had something to occupy his hands, his muscles.
“You’ve guessed the answer, eh?” inquired Omega.
“Part of it. You’ll have to supply the rest. Where are they?”
“Do you mean their egos, or their brains?”
“The brains, of course.”
“The place is not far from Arkhangelsk, on the White Sea. The spot was chosen originally because it was removed from civilization. And the brains remain there for the same reason, though they could move if they wished. But how did you guess it was they?”
“You said they enjoyed pitting one community against another in conflict, and watching the fight as if it were a football game. And you said they like to experiment and dabble in the lives of different peoples and watch the results of their meddling. The deduction is therefore that they threw this band of invaders — probably creations of their own, judging by their numbers, and the fact that they left the women alone — into action, just to watch the fight, and with the added purpose of finding how a community of women would fare without men. Nice chaps. Right?”
“Right. But I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly. You must have got another brain cell, working during those nights you didn’t manage to sleep.”
Mark grinned. “Yes. I have two now.”
THE work of refitting the ship went on quickly. Women, with pathetically hopeless expressions on their faces, carried preserved foods down to the shore, and helped every way they could. Most of them had already lost their menfolk. Others were just as anxiously helping to get their men, members of this crew, away before the invaders returned to kill them. This group was not so hopeless, for Mark had allowed Sven to tell them that they had a plan to forestall the invaders, and that their men would return. He wasn’t at all certain that he could keep this heroic promise, but it did no harm to give these forlorn women a little crumb of hope.
There was another group in the town — quite a sizable one — comprising the women whose husbands and sons were still at sea. These still clung to their courage, for there was the chance that by the time their men did return, Sven’s crew would have already conquered the invaders, just what plan could expect to prevail against such a vast horde, no one could guess, but the very fact that there was any kind of a plan, heartened them.
The sun still hovered above the horizon, bathing the western sea with a reddish glow, when the ship again put to sea. This journey was to be a long journey, over a thousand miles of coastwise travel, but Omega winked at Mark when he mentioned that fact. “Be of good cheer, my friend,” he encouraged, “These fellows have never made any trips in this direction; and so they won’t even know it when I shorten the journey by a few hundred miles.”
“And how will you go about that?”
“Simple, my doubting friend, simple. Tonight, after most of the men have gone to sleep, I shall cause those on watch to become drowsy, and while they are catching their forty winks, I’ll just lift the ship and then set it down within a couple days’ radius of the White Sea. They won’t know anything happened.”
“Simple,” repeated Mark. “With all the miracles you can perform I can’t see why you haven’t exterminated those Russian vermin long ago.”
“But I’ve told you that it is against my principles to do that sort of thing. And besides I’m not at all sure I wouldn’t wind up on the wrong end of the exterminating. But you are different. For you, this is a matter of self-preservation. How you intend to do it is beyond me. They could blast you out of existence in an instant.”
Mark was silent. “I’m not so sure myself. But I think I have a chance. I’m banking on two things I’ve learned about them. They do not as yet know that they can exist as pure thought-patterns, without their brains. And they have an overwhelming curiosity.”
Omega pondered, and seemed to get nowhere. Mark guessed this to be mere acting, for that was a secret delight of Omega’s. But it might be that the other really had failed to divine his plan. Perhaps Omega really felt himself to be unable to cope with the two Russian brains, and had therefore neglected to consider the direct course that Mark had in mind.
“You wouldn’t care to elucidate?” inquired Omega, hopefully.
“No. I have an idea that here is one time when an earthly brain is not wholly inadequate.”
“Such conceit! First idea you ever had — probably no good, at that — and now you’re getting cocky.”
OMEGA obligingly performed his navigational miracle after the ship’s company had gone to sleep. At Mark’s question he explained that his reason for not transporting the ship in this manner with the Norsemen’s knowledge was that it wouldn’t be good for them to see such weird happenings. Mark’s unusual characteristics, however, were well within their scope of understanding. A man could conceivably, by reason of his courage or some other worthy attribute, become a favorite of some god. But for a ship to be lifted through the air would upset them terribly.
The moon was riding high overhead, bathing the waves with a flickering silver light and barely illuminating the distant shoreline, when Omega went to work. The helmsman, dreaming of Valhalla, failed to notice that the wheel no longer tugged at his arms. The few deckhands on duty never knew that for a space of several minutes the creakings and groanings of straining timbers quieted as the ship lifted and was no longer buffeted by wind and wave.
But Mark and Nona, hand in hand, marveled as the craft soared and the waves slid beneath them with astonishing rapidity.
The Best of Argosy #2 - Minions on the Moon Page 10
