Shepherd

by Piers Anthony

  Python's head appeared a short way beyond. She hissed. “Oh—it resumes there?” Shep slogged toward her, sinking chest deep, but was able to move because his broad feet found better purchase than the sheep's thin hooves. He could cross, but not the sheep. The gap would have to be filled in.

  “I'll need to find some rocks,” he said. “Small enough to move, large enough to be useful.

  Serpent disappeared. Did she understand? The animals were coordinating beautifully, but he wasn't sure they were actually any smarter than their kinds normally were. Intelligence beyond a certain level was no asset to an animal, so was not selected for. But telepathy—that might be useful here, and would account for a lot. He kept forgetting it, and kept being reminded.

  Something was bothering Shep. He paused to focus, and got it: the liquid surface of the swamp was rising. Slowly, but before long it would make the muck too deep for the sheep to traverse. The predators might be waiting for that. So the sheep were right: time was of the essence. Maybe it was a tidal flat, but how long would it be before the level sank again?

  Python reappeared and hissed. Shep waded that way. Sure enough, there was a fair sized rock there. He got his arms around it, heaved, and got it up enough to carry, buoyed by the muck. He slogged back and dropped it into the gap in the path.

  Python appeared in another place. Shep went there and found the next rock. He carried it back. The work continued, until he had a crude stone ramp across the gap. Would this suffice?

  Evidently so. The sheep walked on across it, their sure hooves finding the purchase they needed. They were crossing in time.

  Shep saw a stirring in the muck to the side. He could guess what that was: a predator, disappointed that the sheep weren't caught in an untenable situation. Another half hour might have made the difference.

  They made their way across the swamp without further event. The sheep immediately grazed on the nearby grass, no longer constrained by timing. Python and Vulture relaxed.

  Shep emerged, thoroughly soaked in mud. “Give me your clothes,” Elen said.

  He stripped and let her have them. Nakedness hardly mattered any more. She took them to a clear patch of water and rinsed them out. Then she came back for Shep and led him to the same place so she could rinse him off. A day or two before, this would have been extremely awkward; now it was routine. She was more than familiar with his body, though technically they were not lovers. “You did well,” she said.

  “The lout could have done it better.”

  “But the sheep chose you.”

  “So far I haven't done anything that the lout couldn't have handled.”

  “Two things,” she said. “There must be something you can do that the lout could not do, and the sheep know it. And I would not have worked with the lout. They surely knew that.”

  “Why not? You seem to know how to handle men.”

  “The romance and marriage bit. He's no prospect. You are.”

  “I will return to Earth within six months!”

  “Yes.”

  “So I am no prospect either, am I?”

  “Only if you want to be.”

  “What am I missing here?”

  She smiled. “It will come to you in due course.”

  “Dialogues with you can be as intriguing and frustrating as your holddown technique.”

  Elen laughed. “Thank you, Shep.”

  “That wasn't exactly a compliment.”

  “It will do.”

  He gave it up, as he usually did. Shep dressed in his alternate clothing and spread the wet clothing out across his knapsack as well as was feasible so it could dry as he walked.

  Soon they came to another challenge: a crack in the ground leading down to more flowing lava. It was slightly too wide for them to hurdle, but seemed too long to go around. “We'll need a bridge,” Shep said.

  “There used to be one,” Elen said. “I did not know it had been lost. A storm must have taken it out. I would have taken another route.”

  “There are other routes?”

  “Many. But each has its hazards.”

  “Let me see what I can do.” Shep scouted around and found a fair number of fallen branches. There were also many long vines strewn across the trees. He gathered the wood and used his knife to cut vines. Then he used the vines to tie the crude planks together, forming a firm trestle that would surely support the weight of any of them. But there was a problem: how to get it set across the gap. He anchored one end to a tree, but needed a similar anchorage on the other side.

  “Vulture can help,” Elen said.

  Good idea. Shep cut a longer vine and tied one end to the leading edge of the trestle. Then he proffered the other end to Vulture. “Can you carry this across the gap?” The bird nodded. Did she really understand him? Could there really be telepathy, so that she could? If the sheep had some telepathy they could share with the others, that could do it. Yet of course they did; why did he keep doubting? “I need it passed around a stout tree, then brought back here to me.”

  Vulture took the end and launched into the air. She flew across the gap, circled a tree, and flew back, still hauling the vine. Indeed, she had understood.

  “Thank you, Vulture,” he said. “You have been a big help.” He could have sworn she looked pleased.

  Shep hauled on the vine, using the far tree as a crude pulley to pull the trestle across the gap. When the edge reached the other side, he tied the vine to the tree on the near side, then crawled across to make sure of the anchorage and strengthen it with more vines. He had their bridge.

  “Can you handle this?” he asked the sheep. “It will wobble and sway, but will get you across if your feet don't slip.”

  The ewes inspected the bridge. Then they started across, stepping carefully. The bridge did wobble, but their footing was secure. He realized that if they had spot precognition, they might be placing their hooves in the particular places that gave them the firmest footing. They would know the result of bad steps, and avoid them. That would be why they were always so sure footed. Telepathy and precognition accounted for a lot.

  When all the sheep were across, Shep looked at Python. “This should be easy for you.”

  Python slithered readily across. Then Elen walked across, carefully balancing. Finally Shep crossed again, with his staff. “We'll leave the bridge here for our return trip,” he said, pleased with his accomplishment.

  They resumed their trek. They found a suitable spot to spend the night, with grass for grazing and a fruit tree and a small clear stream.

  “There will be temptation,” Elen told him as they settled for the night, holding hands as usual. “You must resist it.”

  “More tempting than you?”

  “You have wondered why you were chosen, instead of the lout,” she said seriously. “The lout would fail this coming test. You will too, if I do not prevent it. The difference is that I am willing to help you, as I would not be for the lout.”

  “I appreciate that. But just what kind of temptation is it?”

  “Vampires.”

  “Vampire bats?”

  “Vampire girls. They feed from their clefts, not their mouths. They use sexual allure to distract men and get close to them. They are very free with their favors; they want men to clasp and penetrate them. But once a man gets inside one, she holds him and spikes him and draws the blood from his member. He can not get free until she has had her fill.”

  Shep winced. Sucking blood from a turgid penis: a rich supply. “I might not believe that, if you had not demonstrated that hold.”

  “Yes. I needed you to understand, so that you properly appreciate the danger. You never want to get into something you can't get safely out of.”

  Shep considered the matter. “I think I would not be much tempted, if you were with me.” He was not being gallant; he could not feature desiring any other woman, in Elen's presence.

  “I will be with you. This is why the sheep chose me. To enable you to resist the vamps. Better
that you possess me than them.”

  “Them plural? Wouldn't I be finished after one?”

  “You would be weakened after one, making it easier for the next to drink you.”

  “But after a man climaxes, he's finished, at least for a while.”

  “You won't climax, merely keep sending blood for your erection. They control that aspect with their hormones. This is not sex, but unconsummated desire. You will not be able to stop trying. By the time the last has fed, you may be dead of blood depletion.”

  “This is a horror!”

  “No worse than dying by other means. Men who wish to suicide may choose to come to the vamps. It is said to be an almost pleasant way to go, because of the continuing urgency.”

  “Knowing this, I will never be tempted!”

  She shook her head. “That will not be your choice. But I think you like me well enough to enable me to foil them.”

  He did like her, but was wary of her motive. “Why wouldn't some other girl do as well?”

  “Some other girl would lack the motive I have. She would let you go rather than throw herself away on a man who could not stay.”

  “Elen, what is your motive?” Would she answer him?

  “I want to marry you.”

  “I think I would welcome that. But Elen, this isn't possible! Unless you mean for only a few months until I return to Earth.”

  “No. I want it permanent.”

  “I wish I could tell you that was possible. But that would be a cruel deception. I don't want you that way.”

  “Yes. You want more than a passing affair.”

  “I do! And I can't have it. Even if I married you now, in a few months I would exchange back to Earth and you would be left with the lout. You know that.”

  “We will discuss this at another time. Meanwhile, when the vamps come, you will let me shield you from them.”

  “Yes, of course. Why should this be in question?”

  “It shouldn't be. Now we must sleep.”

  “Elen--” But she was already into the even breathing of sleep, or pretending it. He had to let her be.

  She had given him much to think about. How could she protect him from being pheromonically compelled by another woman? He could guess: the holddown. She would take possession of his member so that no other woman could have access to it. That seemed so beyond the pale that he never would agree to it unless properly prepared. By experiencing the holddown, and knowing that she wanted much more from him than sex.

  Well, she had made the demonstration, and she had made him desire her. She had been open about those things. What could he do except go along with it? Even if her larger desire was totally unrealistic. He would try to reason with her again in the morning, but suspected she would not change. He hated the thought of the savage disappointment she would have when his tour of this planet was done. But meanwhile they had to complete this mission.

  He smiled to himself. If they died on it, that would at least solve the social problem.

  Chapter 6:

  Breeding

  They got up and made ready to travel. “Elen--” Shep said.

  “We will discuss it after we reach the breeding ground,” she said.

  Well, at least he had tried.

  “Soon we will reach the sea we must cross to reach the island where the rams dwell. We must cross to them; they can't cross to us.”

  “They can't?”

  “Because of the vamps. Any who try, die.”

  “Why should the rams choose to live on such a prison?”

  She smiled a bit grimly. “It is not their choice. It is the choice of the ewes.”

  “So they won't be bothered by the rams except when they wish to breed?”

  “Yes.” She smiled again. “Human women were unable to make a similar arrangement. Maybe if we had had telepathy or precognition like the sheep we could have done it. So we must endure the constant attentions of our males, instead of only when we want them. It is a burden.”

  Shep had no ready answer for that. He hoped she was teasing him.

  They reached the inland sea at mid morning. It was beautiful. There did not seem to be any predators in the water or around the edge. Was this deceptive?

  “The vamps are the only predator here,” Elen explained. “Any males in air, sea, or adjacent land they seduce to death, so there are no breeding populations.”

  “Land sea or air? What kind of creature are they?

  “We don't know. They ignore females, and we see them only as fuzzed out blobs. But they can fly or swim or walk, and they do, to take males. But they don't leave the vicinity of the lake, fortunately.”

  “Then any man who sees them could tell the women what they look like.”

  “Any man who sees them dies of blood loss before he sees a normal woman again. But the legend is that they are utterly lovely.”

  Shep decided to let that be. “So you females could safely swim across?”

  “No. The sheep can swim, but not that far. They must cross by boat. Python and I could swim, and Vulture could fly across. You can't. You would be attacked by the vamps and unable to defend yourself. You must cross by boat too.”

  “But if they can fly, the boat won't protect me.”

  “True. I will shield you from their thirst.”

  He was constrained to believe her. Colony Jones was turning out to be a far more remarkable planet that he had known.

  They walked along the bank of the sea and found an inlet with several moored flat-bottom boats. One was large enough to hold their full party. It had a rotating paddle that could be powered by a man's feet. So it would be a powered crossing, slow but sure.

  “You and I are naked,” she said.

  He didn't argue. He stripped and set his clothing with his knapsack. She did the same with her cloak.

  They boarded. The sheep stood in the center of the craft; Python and Vulture took their places on either side of them, and Shep mounted the stationary-bike type pedals that connected to the paddle-wheel. There was a padded stool before the mechanism which Elen sat on, facing him. She wrapped her legs around him and took him in, as with the holddown. It was clear that this boat had been designed exactly for such a position. It was amazing how un-sexual this contact had become, considering its intimacy.

  “The only way to keep them off you is to muffle you with genital flesh,” she said. “They can't reach you as long as I block them off.”

  “Thank you,” he said wryly.

  “Get moving.”

  Shep started pushing the pedals, causing the paddle to turn and propel the boat forward. It was geared to be feasible. Their speed was not great, but they would reach the island in an hour or so.

  No sooner had they moved clear of the bank than the vamps came. They were lovely nude girls, fair faced, wasp-waisted, and high breasted, with marvelously flowing hair, some blonde, some brunette, some auburn. They seemed to be flying without wings.

  “What do you see?” Elen asked softly.

  He described the girls. “I'd be happy to have any of them in bed, no offense.”

  “So that's how they manifest to you. As ideal sex symbols.”

  “Yes. I gather that's not how they really look.”

  “We don't know. But since they evidently come across to rams as ewes in heat, and to other creatures as ideal mates, their appearance must be telepathically projected. You can not afford to trust what you see.”

  “I'm sure. For one thing, how do they fly without wings? There has to be something sustaining them.”

  She laughed. “They could be nine heads of a hydra on invisible neck-stalks. To me they seem to be floating balls of mist.”

  The vamps arrived. “Oh what a handsome man!” one cried, twitching her head so that her black hair flared fetchingly. “I claim him first.”

  “They're talking,” Shep murmured. “Praising me.”

  “I hear only a passing breeze.”

  The first vamp flew up to hover before Shep, looking h
im in the eye. “Who are you, husky stud?”

  Shep was silent, not trusting this.

  “Keep paddling,” Elen said. “We don't want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

  Oh. In his distraction he had stopped pumping on the pedals. He resumed.

  “What, struck mute by my dazzling aspect?” the vamp asked. “Will you answer if I show you more, like this?” She sailed up to float above him, flexing her legs. She had perfectly fleshed thighs and a temptingly open cleft framed by silky black pubic hair. “I am Lova, your playmate of the hour.”

  Shep couldn't help looking, and couldn't help reacting. To see her exposed in this manner was electrifying in a manner that merely seeing her nude was not.

  “It's the pheromones,” Elen murmured. “There's a thick cloud of them making you thick and hard.” She frowned. “Harder than you ever were for me.”

  He had almost forgotten that Elen was with him and on him. She had of course felt his urgent tumescence.

  “Still not talking?” Lova asked. “Then I shall have to kiss you.” She darted down and caught his mouth briefly with hers.

  There was an explosion of sensation like the bursting of a nova. His desire magnified exponentially.

  “What's she doing?” Elen asked, startled. “You're ready to burst!”

  “She kissed me.”

  “Don't kiss her! That enables her to deliver more pheromones directly! I can't protect you if she does that.”

  That was surely true. The one kiss had just about made him wrench out of Elen. Only its teasing nature, preventing him from climaxing, had stopped him from doing exactly that. He wanted nothing so much as to get into Lova, and knew that would be doom, but his body didn't care. “How can I stop her?”

  “I'll stop her.” Elen covered his mouth with hers.

  Now the vamp seemed to become aware of Elen. “What is this ugly shroud covering you?” she demanded. “Get rid of it!”

  Shep decided it was better to talk to the thing. He drew back slightly from Elen. “I am Shep. I am with Elen Elf. Go away.”

  “Not until I possess you, bold man.” She darted in again, but Shep quickly put his mouth back on Elen's. The vamp collided with the back of Elen's head and bounced off. “Oooo!” she cried angrily. Elen seemed not to feel the vamp, but Shep was totally aware of her. That was surely the work of the pheromones. He still wanted to get his member into the vamp and ejaculate a jet of blood until she was sated. It was like an urge to suicide.