Lion glanced at Cat, who sat licking himself. Lion approached him, knelt, and said, “My lord, I am Lion, your most faithful servant. I am yours to command. What is your wish for this monkeyman? Say the word, and I will spill his blood in your name.”
Cat lifted his head, gave Lion an inscrutable stare, and went back to licking himself.
Lion, still kneeling, glanced at Tiger and hissed, “Why does he not answer?”
Tiger growled softly, “It is not our place to question his motives. He will speak when he wills it.”
Lion turned back to Cat. “Answer me, lord, I beg you. Or if you will not, give us some sign, that we may do your will.”
The monkeyman seemed to finally shake off his confusion and comprehend the danger. He glanced back and forth between Lion and Cat, then crouched and whistled to Cat and spoke. The amulet translated, “Hey, come here. Here, kitty kitty kitty. Come on.”
Lion said darkly, “He presumes to command Cat.”
The monkeyman ignored this and kept calling. Cat gazed at the monkeyman, but did not stir.
Lion said, “Cat rejects him.”
“Wait!” The monkeyman held up a hand. “Just…Leo, come here, dammit!” He whistled again. “Here, kitty kitty.”
Lion reached for his sword and said, “He dies.”
But at that moment, Cat languidly uncurled himself and strolled across the dirt to the monkeyman, who scratched Cat’s whiskers, then his ears, his neck, and his back. Cat purred and rubbed against the monkeyman’s shins. Lion froze.
“Cat shows him favor,” Tiger observed. “Cat has a special plan for him.”
The monkeyman picked up Cat and held him like a shield. Cat continued to purr.
Lion glared at the monkeyman for a long time, then strode over to him, stood very close, and said softly, “I do not know why Cat chooses to prolong your miserable existence, abomination. But let no one say that I was curious.” He brushed by him and walked away.
The monkeyman lowered his head to Cat and whispered, “Good Cat.”
The catmen set out again, now joined by Cat and his strange monkeyman companion. The monkeyman brought along a sort of satchel in which he carried Cat, who seemed pleased enough with the arrangement. Lion remained hostile to the monkeyman, no matter how often Tiger insisted that the Victory was now at hand and that Lion should be rejoicing. The templars often knelt before Cat and asked him for guidance, but Cat never deigned to reply.
Sometimes the monkeyman would stare into the amulet, but whatever it told him must have displeased him, for he would shake it, strike it, and yell at it. Lynx was desperate to question the monkeyman, but that would be showing curiosity, so instead he tried to mimic the stony indifference of the templars. Still, Lynx couldn’t keep his eyes off of Cat.
The monkeyman noticed this. Finally he said, “Do you want to hold him?”
Lynx was stunned. He glanced at the templars, who were now well ahead. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure.” The monkeyman reached into the satchel, lifted Cat free, and handed him over to Lynx, who scratched Cat’s ears the way the monkeyman had. Cat purred.
“See?” the monkeyman said. After a moment, he added, “What’s your name?”
Lynx hesitated, then told him.
“I’m Charles,” the monkeyman said. Lynx didn’t respond. After a moment, the monkeyman lowered his voice and said, “Tell me, Lynx. What year is this?”
Lynx was perplexed, but the monkeyman seemed earnest. Lynx passed Cat back to him and said slowly, “1293.”
“Using what calendar?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Dating from when?”
“Why…” This was the strangest question Lynx had ever heard. “From the creation of the world.”
The monkeyman said nothing for a long time. He and Lynx resumed walking. Finally the monkeyman asked in a low tone, “And what is this ‘Victory’?”
“You really don’t know? Cat hasn’t told you?”
The monkeyman said, “Cat isn’t overly fond of explaining himself. As you may have noticed.”
So Lynx spoke of the Victory. When he saw that the monkeyman was utterly confused, he found himself explaining more and more. Soon he had gone all the way back to the beginning, back to when Cat had created the world and all its inhabitants, including his most favored creation, cats, whom Cat had made in his own image. To them alone Cat had granted the gift of speech. But the cats had grown curious about what other animals might say, and so the cats disobeyed and shared the gift of speech with birds, frogs, dogs, and monkeys. But those other animals were wicked and spoke only lies. When Cat returned and saw what had happened, he was very angry, and punished those animals, twisting them into catmen, birdmen, frogmen, dogmen, and monkeymen. The catmen wailed and beseeched Cat to restore them to their perfect forms, but Cat decreed that he would not until the catmen had wiped the Earth clean of the abominations—any animal who spoke and was not feline. But Cat, in his ultimate mercy, also decreed that this redemption was inevitable, and promised that in the last days he would return to Earth to lead the catmen to ultimate glory. Lynx finished, “So that is the Victory. That is why Cat has come again. But his ways are strange. We did not know that he would be accompanied by a monkeyman.”
The monkeyman said, “And these dogmen we’re pursuing…are the last on Earth?”
“Perhaps,” Lynx said. “They are among the last, certainly.”
“And the…other monkeymen. Like me. Are all…?”
“Dead,” Lynx confirmed. “Long ago.”
That night Lynx was awoken by the sound of the monkeyman sobbing softly. Lynx thought: He weeps for his vanquished race. It had not occurred to Lynx that abominations might be capable of such grief. This monkeyman was the last of his kind, probably. And in the end, when the Victory came, he too would be cleansed from the Earth. That made Lynx feel almost sad.
He did not get back to sleep for a long time.
The templars tracked the dogmen ever deeper into the wasteland. Supplies were running low, and nothing edible grew here. But Lion said, “Good. The dogmen will have the same problem. They’ll have to turn and face us.”
And he was right. The next day, the catmen mounted a low, wind-swept pass, and Lynx spotted the dogmen waiting amidst a jumble of boulders.
The male stood there, holding his great broadsword. The female reached for her rapier, but the male barked at her, and she reluctantly backed away. The male stepped forward, seeming worn and haggard, but for all that he was still even bigger and more imposing than Lynx remembered.
Lion sighed. “Only two. And one a female.” He drew his sword and strode forward. “Stay back. I’ll handle this.”
Lynx looked to Tiger. “He’ll fight alone?”
Tiger was stoic. “He prefers it this way.”
“Why bring me all this way?” Lynx said. “Why give me a sword, if he never meant for me to help?”
“That’s just how he is.”
The monkeyman moved to stand beside them. “How he is is arrogant and reckless. Why do you endure it?”
Tiger said softly, “You’ll see why.”
Lion closed in on the male, who roared and thrust at him with savage force. Lion parried casually, spun in a crouch, and came up with both fists wrapped around the hilt of his sword. He slammed his fists into his opponent’s jowled face, and the male thudded to the ground. Lion kicked away the dogman’s sword, and just like that it was over.
Lynx exclaimed, “He’s amazing!”
Tiger nodded. He hurried forward, and Lynx and the monkeyman followed. Tiger knelt to tie up the male as Lion strode toward the female.
She’d drawn her rapier, and as Lion came on she backed away in a fighting stance, her movements swift and graceful. Lion held his sword at his side.
She thrust at his throat. Her speed was remarkable, but Lion whipped up his sword and easily blocked the blow.
The female backed away, launching a series of feints and attacks.
Lion laughed, contemptuous, as he parried each one. But her last thrust deflected off his blade and scratched his shoulder.
He glanced at the small circle of blood that blossomed on his white tabard. “Not bad. I might have to try.”
He moved to close with her, but again she slipped away.
Tiger looked uneasy. He whispered, “At close range, he’s unstoppable. But he has no patience.”
The female kept retreating, staying always just beyond the reach of Lion’s sword. She attacked again, and again she got through, pricking his other shoulder. He hardly seemed to notice. His expression was dark now. He kept advancing.
Lynx said, “We have to help.”
Tiger hesitated. “He…would not like that.”
Lion roared, slashing at the female’s head. She backed out of reach, then quickly counterattacked, striking his chest. Three stains now blazed on his tabard. The blood from his shoulder wounds soaked down to his elbows. He seemed to be slowing.
Lynx said, “If you won’t help him, I will.”
He drew his shortsword and ran in a wide arc, so that he circled behind the female, then charged her.
As he neared, she pivoted and thrust at his face. Lynx ducked and retreated. Instantly she turned back to Lion, but now he had closed with her, and she was doomed. When she attacked, he locked her wrist and wrenched her sword away. He smashed an elbow into her face, and hurled her over his hip. Then Lion was upon her, straddling her, pounding his fists into her face, knocking her head this way and that. Soon she was unconscious, with blood oozing from her muzzle, but the blows kept falling.
Lynx murmured, “Wait,” but Lion ignored him.
Finally, Lion stood. His chest wound had bled a red blotch around the holy form of Cat that was embroidered on his surcoat.
Lynx said, “Are you all right?”
Lion’s eyes were full of fury. “I told you to stay back! You could’ve gotten us both killed!” He shoved Lynx aside and stormed on past.
Tiger came forward and knelt to bind the female. He said, “He gets like this. Just let him calm down. It’ll be all right.”
The templars marched the dogmen east. The prisoners were not spoken to, and when night fell they were bound at wrist and ankle. Tiger took the first watch while Lion dozed. Lynx sat a dozen yards away, off by himself, leaning on a boulder.
The monkeyman settled down beside him and nodded at the prisoners. “So what happens to them now?”
Lynx said, “The templars will want to show them off, charge money to see them, that sort of thing.”
The monkeyman’s voice was soft. “You said these might be the last dogmen on Earth.”
“They might,” Lynx agreed.
“And then they’ll be executed?”
“Yes.”
The monkeyman caught Lynx’s gaze, held it. “And you’re going to let that happen?”
Lynx glanced over at Tiger, but the templar was too far away to hear them. Lynx hissed, “Of course.”
The monkeyman said, “No one has ever called me squeamish, and I have no love for dogmen, but to wipe out an entire race…That’s evil, Lynx. You must know that. Whatever some old legend says.”
“You’re just a monkeyman. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand more than you can imagine,” the monkeyman said. “I’ve flown among the stars, and slept for ages, and I remember Earth as it was, when monkeymen—as you call us—ruled all. We made you, Lynx, you catmen, in our labs. The dogmen too, and all the rest. We made you to be soldiers, and I guess we did our jobs too well, because I awake to find that you’ve beaten us. But that doesn’t—”
“This is blasphemy,” Lynx said. “I warn you, not even Cat’s favor will protect you if—”
“What? Him?” The monkeyman jabbed a thumb toward the satchel where Cat slept. “He’s an animal, like any other. I raised him from a kitten.”
Lynx stood. “I should kill you for that.”
The monkeyman glared up at him. “Fine. Kill me. Like you killed my race. What’ve I got to live for?” He gestured toward Lion. “Rouse your maniac friend there. Tell him to chop off my head. He’d like that. And would you? I thought you were different.”
Lynx scowled and stomped away. He sat down beside Tiger, who asked, “What’s wrong?”
Lynx said furiously, “Nothing.”
Tiger glanced at the monkeyman, then said, “Monkeys lie. That’s why they should never have been granted the gift of speech.”
Lynx crossed his arms and agreed, “Yes. They lie.”
For the next two days, Lynx refused to speak to the monkeyman, but doubts gnawed at him. Much as he hated to admit it, the monkeyman was right about one thing: Lynx was different from the templars.
He had always thought of himself as faithful, but traveling with them had made him see just how shallow and perfunctory his belief really was. Lion’s faith was like fire—it gave intensity to everything he did, but it was a fire that was raging out of control and would someday consume him. And Tiger’s faith was like a mountain—immense, solid, and immovable. But Lynx realized that his own faith was more like the wasteland itself, existing only in the absence of anything else. The monkeyman’s briefly spouted heresies made sense to Lynx in a way that the wisdom of Father Cougar never really had.
That afternoon, Lynx found himself walking for a moment beside the female. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “You fought well.”
She looked up, startled to be spoken to. “What?”
Lion was off ahead of them. Tiger was back a ways, out of earshot. Lynx said softly, “The other day. You fought well. I think you would’ve beaten him, if I hadn’t interfered. Beaten a templar. You should be proud of that.”
“Oh,” she said, puzzled. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” Lynx said awkwardly, and hurried off.
The monkeyman sidled up from behind him. “Why did you do that?”
Lynx maintained a stony silence for a moment, then said, “I…I was just …”
“Curious,” the monkeyman said.
Lynx sighed.
The monkeyman added, “Curiosity is no sin. If you’re not curious, you’ll never learn.”
“That’s blasphemy,” Lynx said, but his tone was flat.
The monkeyman didn’t respond.
After a time, Lynx said, “Even if I agreed with you—about the dogmen, I mean—what can I do?”
The monkeyman whispered, “You can pretend to be asleep tonight, and when I create a distraction you can crawl over to the dogmen and cut their bonds, and let them escape.”
Lynx was startled. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know.” The monkeyman gave him a thin smile. “But think about it. I’ll create the distraction. What you do then is up to you.”
“Wait,” Lynx said. This was too much. “What sort of distraction?”
“You’ll see. Your little outburst the other night gave me an idea.”
Lynx considered this. “During whose watch?”
“Whose do you think?”
Lion’s, of course. He was by far the more easily distracted.
“Think about it,” the monkeyman repeated, and fell behind again.
As night came on, the templars made camp atop a low hill. Tiger slumbered, and Lynx pretended to. He still couldn’t decide whether to help the dogmen. After several hours, he heard movement and peeked out one eye. The monkeyman came up to stand behind Lion and said, “You seem like the religious type.”
Lion turned to him. “Do not mock me, monkeyman.” Lion was now facing away from Lynx and the prisoners.
The monkeyman sat down on a stone. “Not at all. I just thought you might be interested in some of the religious ideas of the monkeymen.”
“The chattering of abominations does not interest me.” Lion began to turn away.
“Wait,” the monkeyman said. “For example, did you know that many monkeymen believed that they were made in the image of the creator of the universe?”
Lion laughed at that. “Did they ever look in a mirror? Surely they could not believe that the creator of the universe was so ungainly and absurd.”
The monkeyman shrugged. “Others had another idea about how they came to be. It was called ‘evolution by natural selection.’”
Lion’s back was still turned. Lynx glanced at the prisoners. He thought he could crawl to them without attracting attention.
If he was caught at this, the templars would kill him. And what if Father Cougar was right, about Cat and the Victory and all of it? Lynx stared at the female. He was impressed by her, liked her, though they’d barely spoken. He didn’t want to see her die. If he helped her escape, the catmen would have other opportunities to apprehend her, if necessary. But if she died…
He began to crawl toward her.
Lion was saying, “Even if that were possible, it would take thousands of years.”
“Millions,” the monkeyman corrected.
“The world is not that old.”
“Well, these monkeymen had some ideas about that too.”
The female’s eyes were wide as Lynx crawled up beside her. He glanced over her shoulder at Lion, who was absorbed in the argument. Lynx drew the shortsword and whispered, “If I set you free, will you swear to run away and never come back, and never trouble any catman ever again?”
She stared at him a moment, then nodded quickly.
“All right.” Lynx sliced her bonds, then squirmed over to the male to cut those ropes too.
Lion exclaimed, “That is heresy!”
The monkeyman replied, “That is fact.”
Lion stood up. He towered over the monkeyman and said, “Take it back!”
“I’m just telling you what—”
“Silence!” Lion used the back of his fist to strike the monkeyman across the face, knocking him to the dirt.
Lynx freed the male, and together the prisoners began to crawl off.
Lion drew his sword and strode toward the monkeyman, who sprang up and backed away. Lion said, “Come here.”
“No. Get away from me.” The monkeyman turned and stumbled down the hill, and Lion went after him.
Lynx thought: Lion will kill him. The monkeyman knew this would happen. He knew he was sacrificing himself.
Lightspeed Magazine Issue 1 Page 6
