by John Norman
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
“It is interesting that Pons could manage to train such a creature.”
“Such things cannot be trained,” said Rodriguez.
“Obviously the Pons have trained it.”
“Such things do not train,” said Rodriguez. “They kill their keepers.”
“Perhaps if taken when young?”
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“Something like that must be the case,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“Then we have a fascinating example of zoological symbiosis here,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“Like the warning bird, nesting in the coat of the Chian buffalo, whose cries warn it of the approach of intruders, like the scavenger eels swimming in and out of the mouth of the Abderan shark, cleaning its teeth.”
“No,” said Rodriguez. “Such relationships involve reciprocities. Each partner derives a benefit. It is clear that the protection of the beast is much to the profit of the Pons, but what possible profit in this accrues to the beast? It does not live with them. They do not shelter it. They do not alert it to the presence of enemies. They do not clean it. They do not groom it. They do not even feed it, nor could they, on their resources, do so. And such things, I assure you, do not live on fruits and porridge. Indeed, in protecting the Pons, it seems the beast is actually acting against its own best interests. For example, the provision of such a service must involve time and effort, which might better be bestowed elsewhere. Too, of course, it excludes a convenient, easily obtained item from its larder, a sacrifice which, I expect, numerous other predators of the forest are less prepared to make.”
“Perhaps it keeps the Pons about, rather as bait, to attract other things to feed on?”
“How so?” asked Rodriguez, interested.
“Like the Assyrian panther with the snow does it herds?”
“Or the Milesian corath with the small flocks of females of our own species?”
“Precisely,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez. “That would not explain such things as depositing the body of the animal which killed Archimedes before the gate.”
“To reassure the Pons of their safety?”
“It would be more likely to terrify them into remaining within their walls,” said Rodriguez. “Bait is normally most effective when it goes about its business, quite unaware of its danger. In the case of the Assyrian panther and the Milesian corath, and other such life forms, too, the hunters, with their bait, angling with it, so to speak, are usually rovers, taking the bait into new and different areas, where their stratagems are likely to be unknown.”
“You do not think such a thing, then, is involved in the pact?” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“What then is the nature of the pact?” asked Brenner.
“That is one of the mysteries,” smiled Rodriguez.
“We had best get back to the hut,” said Brenner.
“Very well,” said Rodriguez, retrieving his torch from the torch rack.
But Brenner stood where he was, looking up at the massive, carved head on the post.
Rodriguez, torch in hand, turned back.
“You said,” said Brenner, “you knew what sort of animal this is.”
“I do,” said Rodriguez.
“You have seen them before?”
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
“You seemed familiar with its prints,” said Brenner.
“I am,” said Rodriguez.
“Where had you seen them?” asked Brenner.
“In the sands of the arenas of Megara,” said Rodriguez. “When I was a boy, I raked sand there. It was there, too, where I became aware of the marks of its claws. Some of the marks were eighty feet high, on the barriers, as the beast sought to leap up, and clamber over them. Too, I saw their work on various life forms. One blow of the paw of such a thing can break the back of a mastodon of Thule, another can tear out the belly and backbone of a Thracian dragon. I have seen it.”
“I see,” said Brenner.
“I have also seen,” said Rodriguez, “what it can do to those of our own species.”
“Our own species?” asked Brenner.
“In the arenas it is common to match a hundred of our species, derelicts, prisoners of war, captures, debtors, criminals, adventurers, and such, armed with spears, against just one of these.”
“Horrifying,” said Brenner.
“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez, “but the spectacle is popular on Megara. The crowds find it amusing.”
“I see,” said Brenner.
“The betting usually favors the beast,” added Rodriguez.
“I am not surprised,” said Brenner.
“Women who come to Megara to see the games, seeking thrills and excitement, sometimes find themselves seized, and set forth as stripped prizes.”
“Horrifying,” said Brenner.
“They serve as incitements to the men,” said Rodriguez. “A woman is one of the nicest things a man can own.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Brenner.
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
“Do the women participate in these contests?” asked Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez. “It is theirs merely to watch, naked, and in chains, their fate entirely dependent on the efforts of men.”
“I see,” said Brenner.
“That is as it should be,” said Rodriguez.
“Of course,” said Brenner. “What is their fate, if the men are successful?”
“They are, of course, distributed amongst them, as slaves.”
“And what if the beast is successful?”
“They are fed to it,” said Rodriguez.
“I see,” said Brenner.
“Sometimes viragoes appear in the arena, so-called “Amazons,”” said Rodriguez. “They are usually matched against dwarfs. Such matches are used as interludes, as comic relief, between serious contests.”
“Such a beast, then, will eat the flesh of our species?” asked Brenner.
“Certainly,” said Rodriguez. “At times, eagerly.”
“It did not attack me in the forest,” said Brenner.
“On you was the scent of Pon,” said Rodriguez. “That presumably protected you.”
“The pact?”
“Presumably,” said Rodriguez.
“It must be difficult and dangerous to capture such a beast for the games,” said Brenner.
“I would not wish to go after one with spears and ropes, with torches and nets, and such,” said Rodriguez, “but, as it is done these days, on a commercial basis, there is very little danger. Heat detectors are used. The animal is felled with gases or tranquilizing charges. The whole thing is done from a safe distance, from the air. The beast is transported back to a holding compound by air truck, and so on.”
“I did not know such a beast was native to Abydos,” said Brenner, looking up at the massive, carved head, shuddering.
Rodriguez put back his head, and laughed.
“What is so amusing?” asked Brenner, irritated.
“That,” said Rodriguez.
“What?” asked Brenner, angrily.
“Forgive me, my friend,” said Rodriguez, “but therein is found another of our small mysteries.”
“I do not understand,” said Brenner.
“That is why I did not permit myself to correctly interpret what I saw in the forest,” said Rodriguez. “That is why I did not allow myself to understand the tracks in the village, or the marks on the platform by the cliffs.”
“I do not understand,” said Brenner.
“You do not know what beast that is, do you, really?” asked Rodriguez.
“No,” said Brenner. “I do not.”
“Have you heard of the world called ‘Persia’?”
“Yes,” said Brenner.
“It is a desert world for the most part,” said Rodriguez, “but in its suba
rctic regions, in the northern and southern hemisphere, there are forested latitudes, much as on Abydos. From that world come these animals. Several varieties are found there. Most are tawny, short-haired and desert-adapted, but there are forest varieties, too, and those of the northern hemisphere are generally marked like the beast you saw this afternoon.”
“What you are telling me is impossible,” said Brenner.
“The animal you saw today is a Persian lion,” said Rodriguez.
“What are you telling me?” said Brenner.
“That the totem of the Pons is not native to this world,” said Rodriguez.
“That is absurd,” said Brenner.
“It must have been brought here, deliberately.”
“Impossible,” said Brenner.
“Its presence here is one of our little mysteries,” said Rodriguez. “And I will tell you another. Perhaps you recall, earlier, that you said that there had been Pons for thousands of years, which is true, and then, later, you said, in effect, ‘lions, too’, and I said that that was impossible?”
“Vaguely,” said Brenner.
“Have you ever heard of a totemistic group changing its totem?” asked Rodriguez.
“Never,” said Brenner.
“Nor I,” said Rodriguez. “But the world, Persia, as you apparently do not realize, is a comparatively recent addition to our family of known worlds. It was first discovered, explored, and charted only some five thousand years ago.”
“Then the Persian lion, that is, that species of animal, could not have always been the totem beast of the Pons.”
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“Perhaps they were once not totemistic,” said Brenner.
“As far as we know,” said Rodriguez, “at least for thousands of years, they have been totemistic.”
“They have had, possibly, in that time, a succession of totem animals?” asked Brenner.
“That seems a possibility,” said Rodriguez.
“It makes no sense,” said Brenner.
“We may be dealing here with a very unusual form of totemism,” said Rodriguez.
“I am frightened,” said Brenner.
“The Pons may be a subtler, more complex life form than we have guessed,” said Rodriguez.
“I am ready to return to the hut,” said Brenner.
“The greatest mystery, of course,” said Rodriguez, “remains, that with which we are most fundamentally concerned, totemism itself, its origin and its meaning. We know that it is, or is close to, the beginning, that on a thousand worlds, perhaps all, it antedates gods and heroes, religions and philosophies, laws and institutions. Out of its lost, dark soil have sprung civilizations. It is, I suspect, literally the key to the origins of culture, that which frees us from the wheel of nature, that which breaks the cycles of eons, that which most significantly divides forms of life. To be sure, perhaps we have then been entered only upon vaster wheels, grander, more terrifying cycles of growth, and of aging and decay, those of civilizations themselves, but even so, in spite of all, I would understand this totemism, this little, problematic, frightening thing which I think may be the key to culture itself, this strange conception, with its associated practices, which seems so pervasively to lie, often forgotten, secret and mysterious, on a thousand worlds, at the root of civilization itself.”
Rodriguez and Brenner then turned about, and walked back toward the two large doors, those through which they had entered the room. As they did so, they detected, to their right, the Pon whom they had met earlier, on their way in. It was half concealed in the shadows, the darkness. They did not raise their torches to illuminate it.
Before they exited, Brenner turned about, once more to regard the platform at the end of the room.
It was hard to see now, far off, in the flickering shadows.
Still, however, one could make out the two painted, massive, carved heads on the posts, one at each front corner of the platform.
“It is a beautiful, savage animal,” said Brenner.
Rodriguez lifted his torch. The Pon was coming forth, a few steps, timidly, from the shadows. They could see it clearly now. It put up its hands, as though it might be some sort of gesture of warning. To be sure, it was difficult to interpret such a behavior.
“What does it mean?” asked Brenner.
“Do not mind it,” said Rodriguez. “It is an outcast, a pariah. Such, scorned, held in contempt, mistreated, are common in totemistic cultures. They are used for such things as feeding individuals who are temporarily taboo, for example, individuals who have attended to the dead, and such.”
Rodriguez then extinguished his torch, and put it in the holder, to the right of the door, as one would enter it.
“We will leave boldly,” said Rodriguez, “as though nothing were different.”
“Of course” said Brenner. But, of course, too, everything was different.
“Tomorrow,” said Rodriguez, “I will go back to the platform by the cliffs.”
“Perhaps it is too soon to do so,” said Brenner.
“There is a valley behind the cliffs. I saw openings there. I wish to explore them.”
“It may not be wise,” said Brenner.
“I think I know what I will find there, at least in part,” said Rodriguez. “I wish to make certain.”
“It may be dangerous,” said Brenner.
“I have the rifle,” said Rodriguez.
Rodriguez removed the electric torch from his belt, and snapped it on. Brenner extinguished his torch and, with the help of Rodriguez’ light, replaced it in its holder, to the left of the door, as one would face it. When they left the temple several Pons were standing about. Rodriguez pushed through them, and Brenner followed him.
In a moment or two they had returned to their hut.
“There is something of additional interest about the totem animal,” said Rodriguez.
“You mean the particular beast that followed me back to the village?”
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
“What?” asked Brenner.
“It is old,” he said.
Brenner looked at him.
“Is it not clear?” asked Rodriguez.
“No,” said Brenner.
“They will need a new one soon,” said Rodriguez.
Chapter 25
“You should not have come without the rifle,” said Brenner.
“You did not need to accompany me,” said Rodriguez.
He shone the electric torch about the walls of the long, narrow, cavelike aperture, cut into the side of the cliff.
The rifle, as so many items, now and again, in the past, had been missing that morning. To be sure, the Pons would not have understood its power, its capacity for destruction, its terribleness, even that it was a weapon. Presumably they would not even understand the nature of the optical instrument it was designed to resemble, a telescope, or distance magnifier. It was probably not even, to them,, a toy. It was only a shiny object, attractive, and pretty, like mirrors, like colored, multifaceted glass beads. To be sure, it was unfortunate that on this morning, this particular morning, it had disappeared. Brenner, as you might suppose, had then strenuously opposed Rodriguez’ leaving the village, particularly considering his proposed destination, but, predictably, Rodriguez, in his impatient, obstinate fashion, had insisted on going. “It will not be better tomorrow,” he had said. And perhaps that was true. It was irritating to think that the Pons, with their penchant for picking up objects, usually bright, attractive ones, sometimes smooth, well-fitted complex ones, like boxes or cases, and such, showed so little sense or discrimination. One thing would be to them much as another thing. A radio, for example, would be nothing to them but a fascinating metal object, an aesthetic artifact, not a valuable technological apparatus, a means for speaking across great distances. Most of the things they had taken were of little value, of course, and their loss represented little more than a nuisance or inconvenience to Rodriguez and Brenner, but the loss of some other thi
ngs, as you might suppose, such as the radios, was quite serious, resulting, as it did, in a severe reduction in their resources. And the loss of the rifle, of course, might actually prove dangerous.
“Do not go!” Brenner had begged Rodriguez.
“Do not come with me,” Rodriguez had said to Brenner.
“Very well,” had said Brenner. “You shall go alone!”
But, of course, when Rodriguez had left the village, Brenner had accompanied him.
* * *
“These places grow less well-hewn,” said Rodriguez, shining the light about. “I would say this one dates from some middle period.”
“There is a side passage there,” said Brenner.
“Yes,” said Rodriguez. Some of these side passages, as they had discovered, led to other chambers. Some led to a veritable interlinkage of chambers. Some of these side chambers, as it had turned out, could be reached directly, from their own external entrances, and some only indirectly, by means of other passages.
“Shall we follow it?”
“Of course,” said Rodriguez.
* * *
“Anything could walk here,” said Brenner, looking up at the steep walls, the lofty ceiling.
“But it hasn’t,” said Rodriguez. “Consider the dust.”
“Animals might den in such places,” said Brenner.
“But apparently they do not do so,” said Rodriguez.
“Why not?” inquired Brenner.
“They are forest creatures,” said Rodriguez.
“Come now,” said Brenner.
“Perhaps they are afraid to do so,” said Rodriguez.
“You do not put me at my ease,” said Brenner.
“Perhaps these places are guarded,” said Rodriguez.
“By what?” asked Brenner.
“That is a joke,” said Rodriguez.
“I am uneasy here,” said Brenner.
“Look!” said Rodriguez.
The light shone now on a gigantic marble sarcophagus. Above this object, and behind it, in a sort of vast niche in the wall, there was a gigantic head, carved from marble. It was the representation of a crocodilian animal.
“Behold another totem of the Pons,” said Rodriguez.
