—he felt the premonitory aura, stronger than it had ever been in practice—
—and then before his eyes there was a different wall, the interior surface of some building. They had arrived.
"A hotel room I use," said Ray. It was a cheap hotel, Adam decided; the small room was piled with loaded camping packs, canteens, axes, knives, arrows, enough to set up a small wilderness outfitting company. "Help me decide what to take to the Ringwall, Ad. We might be several days there, though I doubt it's going to take that long… something wrong?"
Adam drew a deep breath. "Just that your confidence strikes me as a touch overwhelming—you know, if it was anyone else suggesting this kind of an expedition to me, what I would tell them?"
"It's not anyone else."
"Right… so who's going on this expedition? The two of us, and… ?"
"And Merit. I want every Jovian to be there, in the action. All one hundred and one." Ray winked lightly. "There'll be ninety-eight of our siblings aboard the ship above us. I've had confirmation of the number."
"And what about Vito?"
"What about him? Oh, I think I see what you mean. Well, he can find his way from here back to Stem City, he's essentially recovered now. Or, we can carry him along if he insists, and Merit insists, as they both probably will."
"You think they will?"
"I'm reasonably sure. Don't you think so?"
Adam sighed. "All right. Three of us, or four. And when we get there?"
"Yes? What about when we get there?"
Adam picked up a pack, and tossed it down again. Knowing that he himself was equipped with the genes for Jovian intelligence seemed to make no difference in the difficulty of understanding Ray, when Ray started explaining his plans, or rather started actively not explaining them. Adam said: "I don't know what I'm supposed to do when I get there, Ray. That's what about it. I won't know a Field-builder from a fencepost if I bump into one."
But Ray was not perturbed. "You'll know. And you'll know what to do, when the time comes."
PART FOUR
Chapter Sixteen
"If she does go on any such expedition, I'm going too," said Vito Ling, speaking very firmly. There was in Vito's attitude a strong mixture of you're-all-crazy-but-I'm-going-to-humor-you, along with a good measure of grudging respect: some of the three of you at least might be smarter than I am, you Jovians have been right before, and you could be right about this too. This was not Vito's very first reaction. Merit had only kept her husband from immediately informing the authorities of the plan to teleport to the Ringwall, by not telling him about it until the party of four were out in the wilderness, with no possibility of quick communication with anyone back in the Stem. Still, when Vito was finally informed, it had required all the persuasive abilities of the other three to keep him from starting a solo hike back to Stem City immediately.
For perhaps the fourth time in the last few minutes, Vito looked at his wife and asked her: "Why are you going, Merit? Maybe these two guys have lost their minds… but why you?"
She gave him a strange smile. " Jovians together, against the world."
"If the ninety-nine others all walked off a cliff… all right, Adam, the hundred others." One more item had been revealed.
"Ray might be wrong about the Field-builders," Merit admitted suddenly, and looked suddenly at Ray, who gazed back at her calmly and did not appear particularly upset by the suggestion.
Merit went on: "If he is… there's only one way to prove it." She looked at her husband again. "And, if he's not…"
"That's about the way I see it," Adam said. Not that he really thought Ray might be wrong, but it was a good way of putting the situation to Vito. And the fact that Adam was convinced and was going along with Ray's plan had from the start made Vito stop and think; he had considerable respect for Adam.
But the argument wasn't won yet. "Then the only basis you have for this whole thing," said Vito, "is Ray's word."
"That's right," said Adam. Merit nodded.
Vito and Ray looked at each other.
"I'd be skeptical too, in your place," Ray said to him mildly.
Vito looked at his wife again. "Then you've never seen these Field-builders, except, as I understand it, in Ray's mind."
"No," she answered. "I never have. There are a number of parapsych things I'm not strong enough, or skilled enough, to do without Ray's help." Adam, listening, couldn't tell whether she was getting angry with her husband or not.
"But you're convinced you have to do this." There was a new finality in Vito's voice.
"I am."
"To teleport," said Vito, as if to himself, and Adam could see how fascinated he was, as a scientist doubtless, but not only in that way.
"That's what we're talking about, yes." Ray's voice was quiet, but held a certain challenge.
"If you go," said Vito to his wife again, "I'm going with you."
Darkness was falling now at their camp, in the archery-practice clearing only a hundred meters or so from Adam's cabin. Ray had announced that they should be ready to start within about twenty-four hours. He explained that it would take them about an hour, with several rest stops included, to teleport halfway around the world, and he wanted to arrive in the vicinity of the Ringwall soon after dawn there.
"I've explained the dangers," said Ray to Vito calmly now. "If you insist on going, we can take you." Then Ray looked at Merit, as if the final decision in this matter should be hers.
"My husband makes his own decisions," she told Ray firmly, before the angered Vito could speak for himself. "He has said that he accepts the risks, on your word that they are necessary. I accept them on the same basis."
"I thank you. All of you." Ray glanced up briefly toward the stars. "Obviously our ninety-eight siblings have already agreed with me. If not unanimously—near enough."
"Not unanimously?" Adam asked.
Ray looked at him, as if fearing to be disappointed by what he saw. "Near enough. They'll have the ship in place over the Ringwall tomorrow."
Merit closed her eyes, and nodded. "So be it, then."
When the next day's sun dipped out of sight behind the trees just to the west of their campsite, the four from Earth stood in a circle, packs, weapons, and other equipment strapped to their bodies. They faced each other across a close circle, not quite touching each other.
"We may be temporarily separated after the first jump," Ray warned the others. "But we should still commence the second jump at the same time, if not from exactly the same place. And I guarantee we'll get back together when it becomes necessary. After four or five jumps we should arrive together in the vicinity of the Ringwall—not in it, but in sight of it. All you all ready? Then here we SO-"
—and they were standing on another wooded hillside, a place Adam did not recognize; it was still dusk here, so they could not yet have traveled many kilometers toward their goal.
Vito was not with them. Merit, her sudden fear evident, looked around in all directions for her husband. But he was gone. She turned to Ray.
"It's all right," Ray told her, calmly, paternally. "The little feller isn't too scared—I've still got a touch on him."
Merit's eyes blazed briefly in anger, and Adam was glad they were not aimed at him.
The three of them waited, resting minds and bodies between jumps. They had warned Adam that teleportation could be physically draining, and he was learning that they were right. They walked about a little, restlessly, as individuals, but still kept close together. Dusk was deepening slowly. Limited conversation was exchanged. Ray had to keep reassuring Merit, or trying to do so. "I tell you he's all right."
"He'd better be. He'd better be."
"Time to go," Ray told the others presently. He was as calm as ever.
—and they were standing in the middle of an open space, a larger clearing surrounded by a different forest, and now it was deep moonless night. The group was still three strong; Vito had rejoined it somehow, but now Ray was nowhere to
be seen.
Merit almost crushed her husband hugging him, crying out softly in her relief. Then the three exchanged whispered information. Vito had spent his time of separation from the others in almost total darkness. Except that he had been under trees somewhere, evidently in a forest, he could offer no intelligent opinion as to where he had been, or how far from the others.
Overhead, the Galaxy sprawled across a velvet sky. From the position of the constellations Adam estimated the local time at about two hours after sunset. That meant that they were well on their way around the planet, standing now on Golden's surface at a point much farther from Stem City than any other Earth visitors had ever reached.
Vito was fumbling with something in the dark. Then he announced: "We're still in the Field here. Just as I was on my solo side trip. I thought we might strike a pocket of normality under the Field somewhere. Theoretical possibility, but we haven't come to it yet."
Adam whispered to Merit: "How long will we wait here, do you think?"
"Maybe as long as half an hour. I don't think the next jump can be delayed more than that—Adam?"
"What?"
"Did Ray show you—anything of the Field-builders, as he did me?"
"No. He evidently couldn't—I'm not able to see into his mind that clearly."
"He showed me. If he's right, well, what we're doing is more important than—almost more important than we can imagine."
"Great." Vito sounded more impatient than impressed. "Is that the sea I smell?"
They all sniffed the air. There was a certain alien tang; none of them could be sure if salt water was a component.
Adam said: "But we can't be far from the sea now, anyway. Do you think we'll make the other coast in one more jump, or will it be an island?"
"There's no way to be sure," said Merit.
Adam could feel an inner tide rising, an oncoming aura of teleportation. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was no time to speak. Then the ground dropped out from under Adam's feet, and he lost his surroundings in the darkness. He was aware, for just a moment, of a strong, cool wind blowing in his face from out of the continuing darkness, as he fell feet first through empty night.
And then he splashed into salt water, deep and rough.
He fought his way back to the surface, swimming desperately to keep afloat against the weight of pack and weapons. The pattern of the icy stars told his racing mind that the time here was near midnight, and that in turn meant that he must be somewhere near the middle of a great ocean.
Parapsych theory to the contrary, there seemed to be nothing to prevent his drowning here as a direct result of his teleportation. Adam slipped out of his pack straps, abandoned bow and quiver to the sea, and let the belt that held his knife and hatchet sink away from him. There was no choice.
The water was almost comfortably warm. At least it felt considerably warmer than the air, and now, relieved of his burden of equipment, Adam could swim quite easily. There was no need, at least as yet, to shed his boots. They were lightweight and non-absorbent, Space Force surplus like some of the rest of his clothing.
From moment to moment he expected to be rescued from the sea by another teleporting jump. But the usual premonitory sensation did not come to him, and no jump happened. Did that indicate that even in the middle of the ocean he was really not in serious danger? So Ray had reassured him. Adam wouldn't have cared to bet on it. But now he had no choice.
Adam bobbed about in moderate waves, turning to look and listen in every direction. He tried to keep a screen blank in his mind, ready for any telepathic message that might be sent his way. He called out vocally, but got no answer.
At first the night around him had appeared featureless. But as his eyes adjusted more fully to the dark, he thought he saw, in one direction, a dark mass at the horizon, blotting out stars in the lowest part of the sky. Having no other plan to follow, Adam paddled toward the blot. Still really expecting to be teleported away at any moment, he took his time, coasting relaxed face down in the water for long seconds, then coming up for a quick breath and a lunging stroke with arms and legs.
It was impossible to judge the distance of the land ahead. If indeed it was land—it still might be clouds, for all he knew. Whatever it was, Adam swam on toward it, through the alien sea and night, each moment half-expecting the next teleportation jump to whisk him away.
The stars informed him that something like an hour of steady swimming had passed, before he felt completely sure that the dark mass was solid and that he was definitely closer to it. Then almost at once he heard the sound of gentle waves on a beach, and touched sand with his feet.
He had been in excellent physical shape and well rested when the teleporting started, and the swim had not really tired him. With hardly a pause for rest, Adam walked up out of the water onto a sand spit which curved away toward a greater land mass, his original dark target bulk. There were no lights to be seen ahead, nothing but featureless darkness. Staring through the darkness, Adam tried to formulate a plan.
He was beginning to grow worried. He should have been swept away many minutes ago, together with his fellow Jovians, in another teleporting jump. But he had not been swept away. Something might have gone wrong. The telepathic world was dark and cloudy too, as far as his own limited, half-developed powers could show it to him.
It was borne in on him how much he was dependent on the others, on Ray especially. Too dependent. There was no help for it now, but Adam didn't like it. He was going to have to develop his own powers.
But now was not the time to start on that. Still it was not in a planeteer's nature to just sit and wait and hope for the best—nor was it in a Jovian's nature, Adam told himself. He began to walk slowly and cautiously along the narrow curving spit of sand toward the dark amorphous mass ahead. He tried to probe ahead with his mind, willing to settle for a minimum, for the foreknowledge of a few meters of space, a few seconds of time. Even this modest effort failed.
Slowly the dark blur resolved itself. An island gradually grew and widened and took shape around Adam as he advanced. There were many trees, sheltering pools of deeper blackness. He could not guess at the island's size. For all that he could see, it might have been some portion of a mainland; but he was still sure that he was somewhere near midocean.
His steps slowed as the darkness thickened. The only artificial light he had with him was matches, and he feared they might only reveal him without letting him see much of his environment. He decided that it would after all be best to find some kind of hiding place in which to wait for daybreak. Then, when he could see, he would cope with the situation as best he could, assuming that teleportation had still not swept him on.
Adam was moving forward, one cautious step at a time, under a thick growth of trees, when the stench hit him. The overpoweringly evil smell came at him in a wave, as suddenly as if some huge beast with bad teeth that yawned in the midnight darkness immediately in front of him.
But it was not really the odor of rottenness, though it was just as bad. It was not only repugnant but totally strange. It stopped Adam in his tracks, and sent him centimetering his way cautiously backward.
And then there was a voice out of the darkness ahead, a kind of voice that formed words, though it was otherwise an utterly inhuman, belching sound.
"Earthman," it said, creating words in the common language of Earth, carving them out in a strange heavy accent. "Earthman, I like to think about your kind."
"Uh—uh—" Adam stuttered; he nearly fell. An impulse to giggle fought within him against an even stronger urge to turn and run. Planeteering training won out, and he neither ran nor fell into hysterics, but only backed away another step, his arms rising automatically to a defensive position.
Talk, his training urged him. If someone on a strange world spoke to a planeteer, the planeteer was supposed to answer.
Adam replied: "You like to think of us? Why?" He experienced a trivial satisfaction at the steadiness of his voice.
&n
bsp; The voice came again. "Why? I marvel at your grasping of the small. And why do you kill each other with such enthusiasm?" The basso barking, belching at him out of the night had a tympanic sound, like the deepest roar of a lion. Still Adam was able to sense nothing else about the speaker, except the smell—the smell was gradually fading now, and perhaps it did not really belong to him, or her, or it.
"I'm not sure why we do these things," Adam temporized. "What do you want of me now?"
"You have come to an island where I am. Do you know why you have come here?" There was a pause, just long enough for Adam to have forced in an answer if he had had one ready. "Then follow me," the voice commanded.
There was a receding sound. Adam's imagination, trying to match that sound convincingly with something in the physical world, could picture nothing more likely than a hollow metal drum, being dragged away forcefully through dense thorny bushes.
Adam hesitated only briefly; then with a mental shrug he followed the sound, walking with slow lightless caution through the almost perfect darkness under the trees. Within a few strides, at approximately the location from which the voice had spoken to him, he stepped on something that quivered and scattered like small hard living creatures under his boots. A wave of the strange ugly odor rose overpoweringly about him, only to fade quickly as he moved on.
Under the trees Adam encountered neither thorn bushes nor metal drums, nor anything remotely like them. The ground was level and largely barren. The sound led him on steadily, at an easy pace. Adam paced cautiously after its maker through the darkness, sensing the tree trunks only just in time to avoid bumping into them.
Soon the source of the sound changed the direction of its movement sharply. Adam followed the change, and soon after that bumped up against a wall of something that felt like sandstone. His groping hands told him that the wall was no more than chest high, but thicker than he could reach across.
His guide seemed to be following the wall now, moving to the right.
After a few more turns, all made following the windings of the wall, Adam saw a yellowish light ahead. At about the same time, he and his guide emerged from under the trees. Now the starlight showed him the being he was following, but only as a vague shape, the size of a man perhaps. It was ten meters or so ahead of him and moving quite close to the ground. Whatever it might be, it was not a human of the primate theme.
The Golden People Page 16
