The Golden Enemy

by Alexander Key

  Boy Jaim said, “I don’t think he will. Not directly, anyway.”

  “But didn’t he attack you and Emmon?” asked L’Mara. “And—and I’m sure he would have tried to kill us if we’d got any closer.”

  “The only way I can figure that,” he told her, “is that he just wants to kill me.”

  L’Mara gasped. “Kill you! But why?”

  “I don’t know why. Unless it’s because I’m the only person who can talk to him. Maybe he doesn’t want me to learn something.” He shrugged. “Anyway, that’s how it looks. If he’d wanted to, I’m sure he could have killed lots of us very easily. What was there to stop him? But he knows what’s coming, so he just decided to destroy our food and let nature finish us off.”

  “You really don’t think the rain—”

  “It’s not the rain, L’Mara. I tell you, the rain’s just part of something else.”

  Tira’s eyes were tragic. Almost in a whisper she said, “I can’t understand it. It’s like a nightmare. A beast like that, coming out of nowhere, hating us …” She looked up suddenly and asked, “If it isn’t the rain, then what is it we have to worry about? Haven’t you any idea at all?”

  He shook his head wearily. “I—I can’t even guess. But the Golden One knows. As soon as I’ve had some sleep, I’m going to try him again—”

  “No!” Tira exclaimed. “I can’t allow you—”

  “I’ve got to,” he said determinedly. “Can’t you see? I don’t want to kill him, and I wouldn’t have much excuse for not killing him if I didn’t try to find out what he knows. If I keep after him, I’m bound to learn something. Even if I learn it only a few hours ahead of time, it’ll give us all a chance to get ready and save ourselves.”

  L’Mara said quickly, “A’right, but if you go, then I’m going with you!”

  “Not this time. I may have to follow that bear around, and pester him for days. I know more about him now, and with Doubtful to help I’ll be safe enough. Anyway,” he added, “I’d rather have someone home I can keep in contact with all the time. It may be very important.”

  “A’right,” she told him silently. “But you be careful, ‘cause if anything happened to you I’d, well, I’d just die.”

  “That works both ways,” he replied, as he got down on the floor and began helping them spread the grain.

  “Aw, I’m just a little girl to you. I just remind you of a squirrel …”

  “What’s wrong with that? You also look like Tira—”

  “I don’t! She’s beautiful!”

  “Sure, but that doesn’t make you ugly.”

  Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him in such wide-eyed astonishment that he might have laughed if he hadn’t been so exhausted. Didn’t she realize that in a year or two she’d be the most stunning—Then his hands clenched as he stared out at the rain. In a year or two, if the Golden One had his way, none of this would matter, because there wouldn’t be a soul left in the Five Communities.

  Tira said, “Why don’t you go and get some sleep? You look ready to drop.”

  “I’m all right. You need to rest more than I. You couldn’t have had much sleep with that bunch of archers around all night.”

  She gave a little shrug. “It doesn’t matter. The main thing is this grain. We’ve got to get it dried out before it spoils. Oh, this awful rain! If it doesn’t stop soon—”

  “It’s getting worse. If you and L’Mara are going back to West Com this evening, maybe you’d better get started now. I’m afraid it’s going to turn dark early again.”

  She shook her head. “We’re staying here. Andru’s got his friends with him—they’re trying to plan how they can kill the bear—and they can all feed themselves.” She paused and frowned at him. “Boy Jaim, listen to me.”

  “What is it?”

  “When you go looking for that beast in the morning, I want you to take your bow.”

  “I—I can’t do it. If I go armed, he’ll know it, and I’ll never learn a thing from him.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  He nodded. “That’s the way it has to be.”

  The rain increased with the early dark, but at dawn it slackened again, as it had the day before, and continued steadily with no sign of letting up. Boy Jaim studied it with a vague feeling of dread. The dread turned into a black foreboding as he hurried through breakfast, hardly touching the food the others had fixed, and got ready to leave. He knew L’Mara felt it, then realized Tira did too. Was the world coming to an end today? It almost seemed like it.

  At the last minute Tira ran and brought the case that held his bow and arrows. Again she tried to make him take it. “You must!” she insisted. “I can’t have you go out and face that creature without some way of protecting yourself.”

  For a moment he almost weakened. Then he thrust the case aside. “I’ve got to be honest with him,” he said grimly. “Can’t you see? If I’m not, he’ll know it, and I won’t have a chance. He won’t even listen to me.”

  “Honest with a murderous beast like that?” she cried. “Why, he doesn’t even know the meaning of the word!”

  “Yes he does. He’s honest in his way—he told me exactly how he felt about us, which sure wasn’t much. Well, it’s about time he heard another side of it …”

  Tira shook her head despairingly and said no more. L’Mara, standing frozen and big-eyed beside her, did not speak until the house was out of sight behind him in the rain. Then she called silently, “Please, Boy Jaim—please, please be careful! If he really wants to kill you, he’ll try to trick you—so watch out for tricks.”

  He assured her that he’d keep his eyes open and told her to stop worrying. Then he gave his attention to the gray scene around him and headed slowly for North Com.

  “I’m going to circle North Com and fly as low as I can,” he explained to Doubtful. “You ought to be able to whiff him somewhere. If we don’t pick up his trail that way, we’ll surely find it on the river. He’s got to eat.”

  “Phantoms don’t eat,” Doubtful mumbled.

  “He’s not a phantom. How many times do I have to tell you that? He’s just as real as we are. He may be big, but he’s still a bear, and all the bears I know eat fish.”

  “Ump.”

  “Ump what?”

  The white dog hunched closer to him for warmth, then grumbled, “I never said he wasn’t real. That’s the whole trouble. I’ve seen and whiffed too many things like him in my sleep—now we’ve got one of ‘em for real, and you tell me he’s not a phantom. But your kind is supposed to know more than my kind …”

  “Oh, have it your own way. He’s a real phantom, and he eats phantom fish. Stick your whiffer out of the window and keep whiffing, or we’ll never find him in this rain.”

  “It’s not going to do us any good if we do find him. If we were half as smart as the birds, we’d be flying south.”

  “Flying south! Whatever for?”

  “To get away from here. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  Boy Jaim frowned. “Doubtful, have you noticed any birds flying south?”

  “Sure. Heard lots of them the other night, before the goats came.”

  So the birds had all flown away. No wonder they hadn’t heard any singing. But why south? There was nothing down there but rocky hills full of caverns, then endless ocean, with strings of barren islets.

  Then he remembered that at one time, according to old Emmon, birds and even some animals had migrated with the seasons. But that was ages ago when the winters were vicious and supposedly there were warm continents to the south. Or had the birds gone to the caverns?

  He puzzled over the birds for a while, then forgot them as he caught sight of the flooded fields of North Com. All the low ground was under water. Ponds and widening lakes extended through much of the woods to join the distant river.

  Somehow he hadn’t realized how badly flooded the area had become. He’d had a feeling the Golden One would circle the Five Communities, but it was hardly li
kely with the water the way it was. As for fishing, that would be almost impossible with the rain-swollen river spread out over so much territory.

  Where would the beast go?

  Boy Jaim swung past the scattered houses on the higher ground and began cruising slowly over the wooded hills beyond them. Continually he sent his thoughts out, searching. It had always been easy for him to sense the presence of most creatures, if they were not too far away. But the Golden One was elusive. The other evening, before the big rain came, the monster had appeared suddenly without any warning.

  “Can you whiff anything?” he asked presently.

  “Not exactly,” Doubtful muttered unhappily.

  “Huh? What do you mean by that?”

  “He’s just in the air, but nowhere near. Or maybe it’s just that I know he’s somewhere around and wish he wasn’t. Why can’t you forget him?”

  “You know I can’t do that!”

  Doubtful rolled doleful eyes up at him, then said plaintively, “We had such fine times together before he came. Life was good then. Why does it have to be the way it is now?”

  “I don’t know. I wish you’d stop talking like that.” Boy Jaim ground his teeth together.

  “I can’t help how I feel. And I don’t feel right. I wish he wasn’t so smart. Why is he so smart?”

  “He’s a mutant,” Boy Jaim mumbled. “I’m sure he’s very old, and that he’s learned how to use the Pool of Knowledge.”

  “What chance have we got against something like that?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid.”

  “Well then,” Doubtful said glumly, “don’t you think he ought to be killed before it’s too late?”

  “Oh, stop talking and help me find him!” Boy Jaim snapped irritably.

  As he swung the sled around again L’Mara called, as she had been doing every few minutes, and asked his location. When he gave it, she said, “Are there any sleds near you?”

  “Can’t make out any,” he told her. “But I can’t see far in this rain.”

  “Well, there ought to be a lot around you soon, flying in groups. Father’s organized a big hunt. There’ll be hundreds of sleds out, covering all the country. For the people who can’t use bows, there will be explosives. Father and Councilman Traml are making them now.”

  L’Mara paused, and suddenly he sensed that something had upset her badly and that she was trying to keep it from him.

  “Go on,” he urged. “There’s more. It has to do with Andru. Did he tell you to tell me something?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “He—he sends orders for you to come back and join the hunt. He says you know how to locate the bear better than anyone, and that if you don’t help kill it he—he’ll have you tried by the Council, and—and condemned to be an outcast.”

  Boy Jaim was stunned. Tried by the Council! Would Andru actually do that to him? Make an outcast of him?

  He knew Andru would. It had been more than a century since the last person had been tried for bringing injury to a fellowman. He had been banished from the Five Communities. But Andru was in a rage over all that had happened. Someone must be blamed. And people were beginning to do things they wouldn’t have dreamed of doing a week ago.

  Despairingly he said, “Tell Andru I—I’ve got to find the bear alone, and that I’ll have nothing to do with his hunt.”

  By noon the sled he was using was beginning to act a little sluggish. He wondered if he ought to go back and exchange it for another one, then decided it would be a waste of time. The rain, no doubt, would have affected all the sleds the same way.

  Even so, he was almost thankful for the rain. It helped to mask his movements and kept him from being seen for any distance. The hunt was on now, and he had only to rise to treetop level to make out the gray dots of the first group of searchers flying over the hills. He kept low and took his time, staying behind the hills and following the little valleys that wound toward the river.

  Each time he neared the river, he found it more and more difficult to turn away from it. “I still say he’s got to eat,” he muttered to Doubtful. “And that means fish. But where would he go to catch them?”

  He flew cautiously out over the water and glanced downstream. It was a rush of swirling white, ever widening until it was lost in the gray distance. In the other direction it narrowed between high banks, and curved out of sight beyond the dim shape of an ancient stone mill. The waterfall beside which the mill had been built had all but vanished under the tremendous flow pouring over it. Today the river’s voice was a great roar.

  After studying the banks carefully, Boy Jaim flew slowly upstream. As he neared the mill, he kept behind the sprawling structure and inched forward until he could make out the section of the river beyond the bend.

  “Whiff anything, Doubtful?”

  “Yes … Just caught it a little.”

  “Is it coming from upstream?”

  “Can’t tell in this rain. It’s sort of from all over.” Doubtful was suddenly trembling.

  He put his arm around the dog and said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won’t get too close to him.”

  “It’s not that,” Doubtful muttered. “I just know things sometimes. Like I know we shouldn’t be here now.”

  “Stop talking foolishness and keep your whiffer going! You know we’ve got to find that thing. Maybe we won’t learn much, but we can try.”

  Angrily he sent the sled forward to the roof of the mill and held it there while he studied every foot of the curving stretch of water he could see ahead. Beyond the mill the river widened, and through the gray rain he could discern an area filled with great boulders. In today’s flood it would have been the best spot for a bear to fish—if that bear were as large as the Golden One.

  Ignoring the downpour, he slid the top back for better vision. Finally, seeing no movement save the swirling water, he flew upstream to the boulders.

  Doubtful’s sudden frenzy of barking jerked him to his feet. He looked wildly around at the foaming, rock-studded flood. There was still no sign of the beast.

  “Where are you?” he cried, clenching his fist. “Answer me, Golden One! I know you are close. I’ve come in peace again—”

  A boulder beneath him changed shape. In horror he gave the sled full power and tried to lift it to safety. Its response was too slow. Abruptly the river exploded with violent movement. A monstrous form boiled upward. For an instant he found himself staring into the cold black eyes of the creature that had tricked him, then a paw with the power of a thunderbolt smashed into the sled and tore it to bits.

  Boy Jaim had a brief glimpse of Doubtful, teeth bared, hurling his insignificant little body forward in attack. Then Boy Jaim was flung through the rain with pieces of the sled, and in another second the icy river snatched him and whirled him away.

  As he fought to keep his head up, something white appeared near him, struggling feebly. It was Doubtful. He tore off his clinging jacket and lunged for the dog, managing finally to get an arm around him. But even as he drew him close, he was aware that blood was staining the water and that Doubtful’s eyes were glazing. Suddenly the feeble struggling stopped.

  “Doubtful!” he gasped in agony. “Please don’t die! Please …”

  The river rolled him under, tore at him, and snatched the limp body away from his grasp. He fought his way to the surface, feeling an overwhelming sense of loss. Now, for the space of seconds that seemed to stretch into long minutes, it became a greater fight to get out of the river before he was swept to the mill and over the seething whiteness that had once been the falls.

  A whirling eddy just in front of the mill saved him. The current thrust him into it and almost sent him past a broken and half-submerged window. Barely in time his numbed fingers caught the edge of the stone, and he managed to draw himself inside.

  There were steps in the corner leading to the upper floor. He swam to them and climbed to another window that opened directly above the one by which he had entered. Gasping, numb w
ith cold, and exhausted, he collapsed on the sill and stared blankly out into the rain while a vast emptiness in him slowly filled with hate.

  Suddenly all the bitterness and blackness of hate surged through him like a violent poison. It shook him and brought him upright, thinning his lips and knotting his fists. He could not see the Golden One in the rain, but he could feel the nearness of the beast. He raised his trembling fists in defiance.

  “I came in peace!” he cried hoarsely. “Peace! D’you hear me?” His voice rose to a scream. “I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done! I’ll kill you! If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll hunt you down and kill you!”

  The youngest herder’s star had not yet appeared above the band of mist in the east. While he watched for it, strangely upset, he thought of his lost dog and the beast that had killed it. The hunters had the thing bottled in a canyon. Had they destroyed it yet?

  “Is man so perfect,” the oldest herder was saying, “and are his needs so great, that he has rights over all creation?”

  “How—how do you mean?”

  “Suppose man wants trees for his own use, or a piece of land? He always takes them—and the creatures that lived in the trees or on the land move on. When they have nowhere to go, they die. When they dispute the rights of man, they also die.”

  “Was it that way long ago, on the planet we came from?”

  “I’m afraid it was.”

  8

  AMBUSH

  A tearful L’Mara flew to the mill and took Boy Jaim home after they had searched in vain downstream for Doubtful’s body.

  He did not remember calling for L’Mara, any more than he remembered shucking off his boots and jacket in order to escape the river. She appeared so quickly that he realized she must have been on her way while he was still in the water. There was no need at that moment for him to explain what had happened. It was all so agonizingly vivid in his mind that every terrible second of it must have been instantly communicated to her.

  As he came into the house, clutching around him the blanket that L’Mara had brought, Tira ran to meet them.