Snail on the Slope

by Arkady Strugatsky

  When he opened his eyes, Nava was still asleep. She was lying on her stomach in the hollow between two roots, her face buried in the crook of her left arm with her right flung out to one side; Kandid saw a thin shining object in her dirty, half-open fist. At first he didn't realize what it was, and he was occupied with the sudden memory of the strange half-dream of the night, his fear, and the relief he felt at something terrible which had not happened. It then occurred to him what the object actually was, even its name swam into his memory. It was a scalpel. He waited a while, testing the shape of the object with the sound of the word, realizing at the back of his mind that it was correct, but impossible, because a scalpel by its name and shape was monstrously incongruous in this world. He roused Nava.

  Nava awoke and, sitting up, began to talk at once.

  "What a dry place, I never in all my life thought there were dry places like this, look how high the grass grows, eh, Dummy?" She became quiet and brought the scalpel in her fist close to her eyes. She gazed at it for a second, then squealed and flung it, shuddering, from her. She leapt to her feet. The scalpel sliced into the grass and stood quivering. They looked at it and both were terrified.

  "What is it, Dummy?" whispered Nava at last, "what a horrible thing ... is it a thing? Maybe it's a plant? Look, it's all dry around here - maybe it grew here?"

  "Why -horrible'?" asked Kandid.

  "Why ever not?" said Nava. "You pick it up ... you try, try, go on ... then you'll know why it's horrible. I don't know, myself, why it's horrible..."

  Kandid picked up the scalpel. It was still warm, but the sharp point struck cold. Passing a cautious finger along it, he found where it changed from warm to cold.

  "Where did you pick it up?" asked Kandid.

  "I didn't pick it up anywhere," said Nava. "It likely crawled into my hand by itself, while I was asleep. See how cold it is? It likely wanted to get warm and crawled into my hand. I've never seen anything like it,

  I don't know what to call it. Likely it's not a plant, it's some kind of beastie, maybe he's got legs just tucked them up, only so hard and nasty ... maybe we're asleep, Dummy, you and I?" She faltered all of a sudden and looked at Kandid. "Were we in the village tonight? Surely we were, there was a man without a face as well, and he kept thinking I was - a boy... And we hunted for somewhere to sleep ... yes, and then I woke up, you had gone and I started feeling about with my hands. That's when it crawled into my hand!" she said, "but it's surprising, Dummy, I wasn't at all frightened of it then, just the opposite even ... I even wanted it for something..."

  "It was all a dream," said Kandid decisively. The hair had risen on his scalp. He remembered all the events of the night. And Karl. And how he had shaken his head just slightly; run while you can. And that when he was alive, Karl had been a surgeon.

  "Why don't you say anything, Dummy?" asked Nava, gazing anxiously at his face. "Where are you looking?"

  Kandid pushed her away. "It was a dream," he repeated harshly, "forget it. Better hunt up something to eat, and I'll bury this thing."

  "What did I need it for, don't you know?" asked Nava. "I had to do something..." She shook her head. "I don't like dreams like that, Dummy," she said, "you can't remember a thing. You bury it deep otherwise it'll get out and crawl into the village and frighten somebody. Good idea to put a stone on top, a pretty heavy one, too... Well, you bury it and I'll go and look for food." She sniffed the air. "There's berries somewhere near here. I never did, berries in such a dry place?"

  She ran off lightly and noiselessly over the grass and was soon lost to view beyond the trees. Kandid remained seated, holding the scalpel in his palm. He didn't bury it. He wiped the blade with a handful of grass and tucked it in his blouse. Now he recalled everything and could understand nothing. It was a kind of strange and terrible dream, and owing to some oversight, the scalpel had fallen out of it. What a pity, he thought, today my head's clearer than it's ever been and all the same I can't understand a thing. That means I never will.

  Nava quickly returned and dug out from her bosom a pile of berries and several sizeable fungi.

  "There's a path over there, Dummy," she said. "Let's not go back to that village, you and I, why should we, let it ... let's you and I go by the path, we're bound to get somewhere. We can ask there the way to New Village and everything'll be all right. It's just amazing how much I want now to get to New Village, never before wanted to so much. Let's not go back to that nasty village, I didn't like it there, you know if we hadn't got away from there, something awful would have happened. If you want to know, we shouldn't have come here, those robbers did shout at you not to go or you were done for, but of course you never listen to anybody... Because of you we nearly got into trouble... Why don't you eat? The mushrooms are filling and the berries are nice, rub them in your palm and make them into crumbs, you're like a kid today. I remember now, mam used to tell me the best mushrooms grow where it's dry, but I didn't know what dry meant, mam used to say that there were lots of dry places before, like on a good road, that's why she understood and I didn't..."

  Kandid tried a mushroom and ate it. They really were good, and so were the berries; he felt his strength coming back. He still didn't know what to do next, however. He wasn't keen to go back to the village. He tried to visualize the locality as Hopalong had drawn it on the ground with a stick, and recalled that Hopalong used to speak of a road to the City, a road which should run through these parts. "It's a very good road," Hopalong would say regretfully, "the most direct road to the City, only we can't get there across the quagmire, that's the trouble." He lied. The lame one lied. He had gone across the quagmire and had been in the City probably, but for some reason he lied. But perhaps Nava's path was that self-same road? It had to be risked. But first they had to go back, back to the village...

  "We'll have to go back all the same, Nava," he said, after they had eaten.

  "Where to? Back to that nasty village?" Nava was upset. "Now why do you say that to me, Dummy? What's there left to see in that village? That's what I can't like about you, Dummy, there's no making any arrangements with you... We'd already decided that we wouldn't go back to that village, and I found the path for you, now you start saying we've got to go back..."

  "We have to," he answered, "I don't want to either, Nava, but we have to. What if they can tell us there the quickest way to get to the City?"

  "Why to the City? I don't want to go to the City, I want to go to New Village!"

  "We're going straight to the City," said Kandid, "I can't stand any more of this."

  "Well, all right," said Nava, "all right, let's go to the City, even better, what's left to be seen in New Village? Let's go to the City, I agree, I'm always in agreement with you, only don't let's go back to that village. You think what you like, Dummy, but for my part, I'd never return to that village..."

  "It's the same with me," he said, "but it's got to be done. Don't be angry, Nava, I really don't want to..."

  "If you don't want to, why go?" He didn't want to and couldn't explain to her why. He rose and without looking back, went in the direction of the village, through the warm, dry grass, past the warm, dry tree trunks, squinting from the warm sun of which there was unusually much hereabouts, heading toward a horror from which all his muscles were still painfully strained, toward a strange and quiet hope that broke through the horror, like a blade of grass through asphalt.

  Nava caught him up and walked alongside. She was angry and was even silent for some time, but couldn't keep it up.

  "Just don't think that I'm going to talk to those people, you can talk to them, you're going there, you talk to them. I don't like having anything to do with a man if he hasn't got a face, I don't like that. Expect no good from a man like that, if he can't tell a boy from a girl... My head's been aching since morning, and now I know why. , .."

  They came on the village unexpectedly. Apparently, Kandid had veered off the true direction and the village now opened out among the trees on the right. Eve
rything was altered, though. Kandid didn't at first realize what had happened. Then he did; the village had drowned.

  The triangular clearing was awash with black water, and water was entering before their eyes, filling the clay dip, drowning the houses, silently eddying along the streets. Kandid stood and watched helplessly as windows disappeared under the water and waterlogged walls crumbled and sank, roofs caved in and nobody ran out of the houses, nobody attempted to reach the shore, not a single person appeared on the surface of the water. Perhaps there were no people there, perhaps they'd left that night, but he felt it-wasn't as simple as that. It's not a village, he thought, it's a model, it stood forgotten and dusty and then somebody got curious as to what would happen if it were covered with water. It might be interesting? ... So they did it. But it wasn't interesting...

  Gently caving in, the roof of a smooth building slid into the water. A light breath seemed to float over the water, waves fled over the even surface and all was over. Before Kandid lay an ordinary triangular lake, for the moment quite shallow and lifeless. Later it would deepen into a gulf, fish would appear, for us to catch, prepare, and place in formalin.

  "I know what this is called," said Nava. Her voice was so calm, that Kandid glanced at her. She really was absolutely calm, even, it seemed, pleased. "It's called the Accession," she said, "that's why they had no faces and I didn't understand straight away. Likely they wanted to live in the lake. They used to tell me that the people who lived in the houses can stay and live in the lake, there'll be a lake here now for always, those who don't want to can leave. Take me for example, I would leave, though maybe it would be better living in the lake. But that nobody knows... Maybe we could bathe here?" she suggested.

  "No," said Kandid, "I don't want to bathe here. Let's get on to your path. Come on."

  I've just got to get out of here, he thought, unless I want to be like that machine in the maze... We all stood around and laughed as it busily probed and searched and sniffed ... then we filled a small trough in its path with water and it panicked touchingly but only for a moment, then its busy antennae got going again, buzzing and sniffing, not knowing that we were observing it, and in general we couldn't have cared less that it didn't, though it was that which was the most terrible thing of all. If it was terrible at all, he thought. Necessity can't be either terrible or kind. Necessity is necessary, and anything else about it we imagine ourselves, or machines in mazes, if they can imagine. It's just that when we make a mistake, necessity grips us by the throat and we start crying and complaining how cruel and terrible it is, and it's just exactly what it is - it's us who are stupid or blind. I can even philosophize today, he thought. Probably from the lack of humidity. That's all I need, I can philosophize...

  "There it is, your path," said Nava angrily, "come on, if you please."

  Angry, he thought. Won't let me bathe, I can't talk, it's dry everywhere, nasty ... never mind, let her be angry, she's quiet, and thank God for that. Who walks these paths? Surely they can't be walked often enough to keep the grass down? It's an odd path all right, it is as if it were dug out, not trampled down...

  The path led at first through comfortable dry places, but after some time it descended steeply and became a vicious strip of black mud. The pure forest ended, bogs appeared on all sides, moss grew everywhere, it got damp and stifling. Nava at once livened up. She felt much better here. She was now talking continuously and soon the well-known ringing hum took over and established itself in Kandid's head; he moved in a half-dream, forgetting all his philosophy, almost forgetting where he was going, giving himself up to chance thoughts, not even thoughts, fancies.

  ... Hopalong comes hobbling down the main street and tells everyone he meets (and even if he meets nobody, he still puts it out), that Dummy has gone off, yes, and taken Nava with him, to the City, likely he's gone to the Reed-beds, good fish to trick there; just stick your finger in the water - there you are, a fish. Only why should he, if you think about it. Dummy doesn't eat fish, fool, although maybe he'll decide to catch a few for Nava, Nava eats fish, there now he'll feed her up on fish... But why did he go on asking questions about the City? No-o-o, he's not gone to the Reed-beds, we can't expect him back soon.

  Toward him along the main street comes Buster and tells everyone he meets that Dummy now, used to go about trying to talk people into going to the City, Buster, let's go day after tomorrow to the City, and when I make too much food so the old woman tells me off, then off he goes without me and without food ... on his own, yes, wool on yer nose, off he goes, no food, give him one in the eye and put a stop to that, no going with food, and with no food he'd be frightened to go, sit at home, give him one...

  And Barnacle stands next to the old man breakfasting at his house and says to him: you're eating again, and eating somebody else's again. Don't think I begrudge it, I'm just amazed how many pots of filling food can be stowed away inside a skinny old man like you. You eat, he says, but you tell me is there really only one of you in the village? Maybe there's really three, or two at least? It's weird looking at you, eat, eat till you're full up, then explain that it's not right to...

  Nava walked alongside, hanging on to his arm with both of hers, talking with a reckless air:

  "And there was another man living in our village, who they called Anger-Martyr, you wouldn't remember him, you were witless then, and this Anger-Martyr was always annoyed at us and he used to ask: Why? Why is it light in the daytime and dark at night? Why is it beetles that get you drunk but not ants? Why are the deadlings interested in women but not men? The dead-lings stole two wives from him, one after the other. The first one was before my time, but I remember the second, he went about asking why, he asked, did they steal my wife and not me? He deliberately walked whole days and nights in the forest, so's he could be picked up and find his wives, or one of them at least, but of course it didn't work, they don't want men, it's women they need, that's how they're made, and they're not going to change their ways because of any Anger-Martyr... He used to ask us as well why we had to work in the fields when there was more than enough food in the forest, just pour some ferment on the ground then eat your fill. The elder says to him: don't work if you don't want to, nobody's grabbing your arm ... but he still went on: why, but why ... or he would go up to Buster, Why says he, is Upper Village grown over with mushrooms and ours has nary a one? At first Buster quietly explains: the Accession happened up there and not here yet, that's all about it. But he goes on: Why haven't we had the Accession, Buster, after such a long time? What if it hasn't come then asks Buster, you miss it or something? Anger-Martyr won't leave off, he wore Buster out. Buster started shouting, all the village heard him, he waved his fists about and ran off to the elder to complain, the elder got angry as well and called the village together. They all set on Anger-Martyr to punish him, but they couldn't catch him... He used to get onto the old man as well an awful lot At first, the old man stopped going to his house to eat then he tried hiding from him but eventually he couldn't stand it: Leave me alone, says he, the food won't go into my mouth because of you, how should I know - why? The City knows why and that's all about it. Anger-Martyr went off to the City and never came back...

  Greeny-yellow blotches swam slowly by to right and left, ripe dope-toadstools puffed deeply and hurled out their spores in ginger fountains; a wandering forest wasp tried to sting their eyes, prompting a hundred-yard dash to escape; multi-colored water spiders clung to the lianas fussing about building their constructions; jumping trees alighted and hunched for another jump before, sensing the presence of people, they froze and pretended to be ordinary trees - there was nothing for the eye to rest on, nothing to record. And nothing to think about either, since to think of Karl and last night and the drowned village meant delirium.

  "Anger-Martyr was a good man - it was he and Hopalong found you beyond the Reed-beds. They went off toward the Anthills, but drifted over somehow to the Reed-beds and found you there and dragged you in, or rather Anger-Martyr d
ragged you in, Hopalong just walked behind picking up the things that fell out of you... Ever such a lot of things he picked up, then, he said he got scared and threw them all away. No such thing ever grew in our village, or could ever. Then Anger-Martyr took the clothes off you, very strange clothes you had, nobody could understand where things like that grew or how... Then he cut them up and planted them, thinking they'd grow. But nothing ever grew for him not even a shoot, and he started going around again asking why, if you cut up and planted anybody's clothes they grew, but yours, Dummy, never even sprouted... He pestered you a lot, gave you no peace, but you had no wits then, just muttered something or other, like that one with no face, and covered your face with your hand. Otherwise he'd never have left you alone. After that lots of men went over beyond the Reed-beds - Buster, Hopalong, even the elder went, hoping to find another one like you. But they never did... Then they brought me to you. Marry him, say they, while you can, get married, you'll have a husband, he's a stranger, so what? So are you, sort of. I'm a stranger too. Dummy. This is how it was: the deadlings had kidnapped mother and me, it was a night without moon..."

  The terrain was again beginning to rise, but the humidity remained, although the forest did begin to thin out. The root-snags, decayed boughs, and piles of rotting lianas had disappeared. The greenery had gone, all around was yellow and orange. The trees were now slender, and the swamp had changed oddly - it was now level, without moss and without mud-heaps. The tangled web of undergrowth had disappeared and visibility was good to left and right. The grass on the verges was now softer and juicier, blade against blade as if someone had specially selected and planted them.

  Nava halted in mid-word, drew breath and said matter-of-factly glancing around; "Where could you hide here? Looks like nowhere to hide..."

  "Is someone coming?" asked Kandid.

  "A lot of someones, and I don't know who... It's not deadlings, but best to hide anyway. We could stay in the open of course, they're pretty close anyway, and there's nowhere to hide. Let's get on the verge and have a look..." She sniffed again. "Nasty sort of smell, not dangerous, but better if it wasn't there... You, Dummy, can't you smell it? It stinks like over-rotted ferment - a pot of over-rotted ferment covered in mold right in front of your nose... There they are! Eh, little ones, they're all right, you can chase them away, shoo! shoo!"