Star Ship on Saddle Mountain

by Richard Ackley

  "Unfortunately, Charles Holt, that is a request that cannot be granted now, possibly never. Your discovery of us was unfortunate, and our only recourse was the action taken in your capture. You must remain, perhaps for all your life—"

  The Primate paused in his words directed to Charlie, and glanced up, too, just as the other judges and the audience were doing. Charlie followed his gaze, and for the first time, saw the chase that was taking place, high up above them in the domed space of the Rotunda.

  Open-mouthed, Charlie watched the flight of the fleeing pink bird, like those he had seen earlier, darting, turning, dashing frantically—seeking a place to escape the black hawklike pursuing bird. Then the big hawk raced closer,

  gaining on the small, shrieking pink bird. They swooped down low over the heads of the Council, then the pink bird raced off— zooming high as it circled the pit of the trial chamber. As Charlie watched them, the pink bird made one last desperate effort to escape—plunging down straight in his direction!

  Coming close, it swerved—then plummeted swiftly, right against his chest! Its spread wings fluttering for balance, Charlie stood very still in that split second as the pink bird, burrowing, dug into the folds of his open-collar shirt. Shivering against his bare skin, Charlie could feel the nervous trembling of the frightened bird and the hammering of its little heart against him.

  Then he saw the pursuing hawk coming down—directly at him. It was diving, not afraid—hooked beak wide-open and talons pushed forward—right at his chest! In a fast motion Charlie lashed out, his balled fist crashing hard against the broad black breast of the hawk. The slashing swing bowled the hawk back, tumbling it over and stunning it. Flopping around, it finally took wing again, and with a loud screeching headed for open space out through the tall colonnades.

  While the raucous screeches of the injured hawk still echoed back through the great Rotunda, the Council members looked silently at Charlie. He seemed not aware of them, as he took out the frightened bird and gently stroked its bright pink-feathered back. Then looking up, Charlie carefully put the bird back into his opened shirt front. It still didn't want to take chances, preferring not to fly off when offered its freedom by Charlie.

  As Charlie looked at the seven judges, he realized a great silence had come over the crowd throughout the chamber. No one moved. Then, the Primate turned and, with the other six Council members, held a short conference. Charlie began to wonder what rule of the land he had broken by these actions. He shifted from one foot to the other, aware that every move he made was being watched intently by the crowd. Even the two guards off to the side stared at him in a strangely different way now.

  Unable to understand the swiftly-passed impulses of the conferring Council, other than to realize those impulses concerned his future, Charlie felt a certain relief as all nodded to the Primate. He turned again, facing Charlie. But he did not speak to him. Instead, he looked about the great Rotunda, addressing the people.

  "In the clear light of reason," he said, "intelligence must prevail. This Council, representing you, now wishes to change its first verdict, in regard to the alien, the Primitive Charles Holt, who stands before you. We were incorrect."

  Charlie swallowed hard as the Primate spoke, trying to figure out just what their first verdict might have been, and if it was for or against him. He would soon find out.

  "Standing before us, is the young alien whose status, by the authority granted us, we must now clarify—his fitness or lack of fitness—for civilized equality among us."

  Charlie braced himself, for he could feel the tension throughout the crowded assembly. Whatever it was, the vast audience was apparently fully aware of the swift thoughts that had been exchanged, and the decision reached, by the

  Council. They only waited now, leaning forward in their seats, to catch the Primate's every word. Charlie breathed in deeply.

  "In a civilization such as our own, fashioned within the realm of compassion, we can be just, or by our actions, be forgotten in the dust of Time. As we judge this stranger to our world, so will the conscience of Time note and remember us."

  Turning as he looked down, directly facing Charlie again, the Primate spoke, in a gentler tone.

  "After your defense of the pink Safronette against the black Prator that pursued it, the Council has need for no further evidence. It is the opinion of this Council you have full right to every freedom on this planet. You are civilized."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Three Duplicates

  Despite the resounding surge of impulses and general motion throughout the Rotunda that came with the Primate's unanimous Council decision, Charlie found words to express his feelings, even in the great excitement of the moment.

  "Thank you—" Charlie almost shouted to be heard above the swelling waves of approval from the crowds, "thank you very much, Mr. Bin!"

  The Primate smiled, nodding to Charlie. With a motion of his hand he added:

  "You are free to go now, wherever you wish, as a fellow member of our society."

  Then the Primate turned, and followed by the six other members of the Council, he entered the tunnel behind the high bench. As though this were a signal for the last release

  of restraint, the great mass of people increased their first ovation for Charlie, and as he hurried up the long aisle, free, he held the pink safronette with both hands. As people on either side smiled and nodded to him, others reached out and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Charlie felt fine, and mist or no mist, the Barrier World was a pretty nice place, and the aliens very fine people.

  Hardly had he reached the outside end of the aisle tunnel, when he stopped, glancing back, as he got the impulse above the noise of the crowds. Then he saw Dondee waving both arms as he ran toward him. Then behind him came another Dondee, and a tall alien woman.

  "Charles! Charles—I knew you'd win! Hey, I want you to meet my mother, Elstara Bin."

  Charlie put out his hand to the tall and smiling stately woman who had just come up to them.

  "And this is Biri Biri Bin," Dondee added. "My duplicate!"

  As they shook hands, Charlie looked from Biri back to Dondee, then back again at the girl.

  "She sure is your duplicate!" Charlie said. "She looks exactly like you."

  Dondee quickly explained that the handshake was the way people made greetings in Arizona, as Biri and Elstara Bin took turns with their form of greeting, by placing a hand on either side of Charlie's neck, and greeting him.

  "If you didn't dress a little bit different, I'd never have known you from Dondee," Charlie told her. "Biri Biri Bin ..." he repeated. "It's a name, a name like music!"

  Biri, with the same prankish look on her face as Dondee, looked Charlie over curiously, without the slightest reserve, and asked all sorts of questions about his clothes, the star- wheel spurs, and his world.

  "You must, of course, stay with us at our spiral, Charles," said the Primate's wife. Both Dondee and Biri insisted that their father and I offer you our home. We'd all like to have you, Charles, for as long as you wish."

  "Thanks, ma'am," Charlie said, even as Biri jumped around between her mother and him. Seeing Dondee link his arm in Charlie's Biri did likewise, while to Charlie they both seemed more and more with every passing moment, to be duplicates of each other. They even thought alike a lot, in the questions they fired at him.

  "I'd like staying at your house most of all," Charlie said, "since I already know Dondee, ma'am."

  Charlie now forced himself not to think of the past, or the home that was forever fighting for prominence in his mind. He must not spoil this very fine day by worrying about Earth ... at least, not while he was around the Bins. They were trying very hard to make him welcome and, besides, Earth was something he could share with no one on this planet. No one, except Navajo. Good old Nav. He was from Arizona, too.

  "Dondee," Elstara Bin asked, "where did you say Charles's animal was?"

  "Oh," Dondee said airily, "he's just down the road
a piece."

  To Mrs. Bin's consternation, Biri quickly explained: "That's one of the things Charles taught him. From Arizona!"

  "Yes, ma'am," Charlie admitted.

  "Or if you really want to know, mother," Dondee's impulse elaborated, "Navajo is waiting for Charles. I had him brought from the animal yards and he's downstairs right now, on our bottom tier. Waiting for Charles! I sort of figured Charles might be coming to live with us."

  Charlie was so glad of the news he suddenly wanted to do something nice for Dondee, to show his appreciation.

  "Thanks, Dondee. Thanks a lot for looking out for Navajo. He's my best friend."

  Charlie caught the brief but wistful impulse that passed back and forth between Dondee and Biri, as they both looked at him in silence.

  "One of my three best friends!" Charlie corrected. "You and Biri are the other two."

  Both of them smiled happily, holding Charlie's arms closer as they walked along.

  "Ever since you were celled for trial, Charles, Dondee has been working with his father, with Biri's full backing, to sway his decision in your favor. Though death is an outmoded penalty in our world, still they weren't sure in your case, so they used every means they could dream up to influence their father. Both even promised never to slide down the spiral rail again, and never to fight each other, if you could be found to be at least partly civilized, and given your freedom," Elstara Bin told Charlie. "So, in spite of your natural compassion, which all our world now knows, these two duplicates were already decided in your favor long ago, Charles.”

  Charlie, holding on to both Biri's and Dondee's arms, locked in his, felt that their friendship was the true kind, no matter how reserved he might still feel to all the grown up aliens. He could never feel that way with Biri and Dondee. It wasn't their fault he was here, anyhow. And now that he was, they were doing everything they knew how to make it right for him, to make him feel like he was their own brother . . . their duplicate.

  As they all entered one of the great circular airlifts for the quick run into the Capitol City again, Charlie smiled happily at both Dondee and Biri. They had jostled their way, somewhat rudely, around several other people in the great airlift, so as to stand right up close beside him. No matter what the future might hold, even with the hope for escape that could never die, Charlie knew somehow that he could always count on Dondee and his duplicate. They were his friends.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Lancer

  Days passed swiftly for Charlie at first, for Dondee and Biri never gave him any time to brood, or to remember. And their great fondness for Navajo only made them all the closer to Charlie. They would talk to Navajo, watch his ears move alertly at their caressing impulses, and in the weeks that passed Charlie taught both of them how to ride. They learned to ride as well as Charlie—Indian style, bareback.

  But like the everlasting mists that hung high in the heavens above their world, so the strange inland city life hung down over Charlie. Biri and Dondee, never having lived in clear, free, open sunshine, couldn't miss it. Charlie did. He was still a country boy, a boy of the open ranges, the broad flat desert, and the high craggy mountains.

  r

  He still longed to go back to country living, to living again on the surface . . . even a misty surface.

  And in a roundabout way, though not even Dondee and Biri would talk much about it, Charlie found that all the people of the alien world hoped some day to live out on their own land surface. But—first, they were waiting, waiting for something to happen, something that would change their surface and give them the pure light from the Sun above them. And try as he could, Charlie could never quite get the whole story, and all he ever managed to find out was that, in some mysterious way, it was connected with the Star Project.

  At first he had only suspected a connection between their moving out to live on the surface and the Star Project, but he was more and more sure of it as time passed. The Star Project concerned the missions to Little Star, his own Earth, while their surface change was a purely local affair of their world. There couldn't be a connection ... and yet?

  Charlie felt they had the right to a secret in their own land, even from him, though he was now one of them. He felt that he didn't have the right to press the answer from Biri and Dondee, taking advantage of their close friendship. In time, if they ever wanted to, they would tell him.

  When Charlie had just about reached the point where he felt he could no longer put off his own feelings about wanting to live on the surface, out in the open spaces, the big day came. He had been, along with Dondee and Biri, up on the surface with Navajo, teaching his friends to ride. The season of the Sun Festival had arrived. Charlie had heard about it

  but had shown little interest in it. Then Dondee and Biri informed him that their Sun yacht, the Lancer, had arrived. It was to be their entry. They would race it, in the main event of the Sun Festival, the once-a-period event that was the great annual holiday.

  The day of days had come, the day when all people on the great Barrier had a chance to make the trip and see the thing they most wanted to see. It was the day they saw the Sun.

  In the past, few of their population had been lucky enough to make the trip, and only during the past year had hundreds more of the great space islands been put into orbit about their world. Since the Sun Festival ran for several days, and each person could spend only one day aloft, all the population would have a chance to see the Sun, this year for the first time in their history.

  Far above the Hi Fi Winds, in the thin atmosphere beyond the first dense layer of the surrounding Barrier, the sky islands were stationed in permanent orbit. These space platforms were now ready and in place. And despite his own feelings for another far-off world, Charlie couldn't help but give in and forget for the moment his own homeland. He gladly accepted Dondee's and Biri's offer to share in skippering the Lancer.

  "I never knew too much about boats, Dondee, but I'd sure like to go along." "Oh, you'll love it, Charles!" Biri threw in. "You can see the Sun every minute of the time!" "It's Biri's first time this year, Charles," Dondee informed

  him. "She never went before, since only one member of a family could go, even the Primate's, and I was the lucky one."

  "You mean," Charlie began, "you've never even—"

  "No, Charles," Biri said, "I’ve never seen the Sun."

  Charlie, feeling a great sympathy for Biri, always bright and happy, watched her now as she petted the pink safronette he had given her after the trial.

  "She is a lucky young lady," the Primate sent the word from across the great living room of their tower sitting quarters. "Many people, through one circumstance or another, will never see our Sun. You see, Charles, this is the first period that we've been able to master the tremendous task of putting fully-equipped platforms into operation. As you may have heard, till recently we had to take turns for the Sun Festival."

  "It is, Charles," added Elstara, from the lounge chair near the Primate, "the most celebrative time of the year. You must forgive us, if perhaps we seem to almost worship the Sun's pure light. It is our greatest luxury."

  "I think I know how you feel," Charlie replied. "I really do, ma'am."

  "Is it true, Charles, that the Arizona Sun—I mean, the light from our same Sun here, shines so hard that—that 'folks' have to keep covered? That it shines for every day of all the whole period long?"

  "Sure, Biri. It shines so hard," he said, still smiling at her use of the word "folks," "that they all get burned—like me!"

  Biri and Dondee, for the hundredth time, held Charlie's arms out, running their fingers lightly over his tanned skin, as though wishing some of the Sun's magic would rub off on them.

  "Oh Charles—it's, it's so wonderful! To be really and truly burned by the Sun," Biri said.

  "Dondee—" Biri sent the impulse across the room to her brother, "let's show Charles what we used to do—when we were small, long ago!"

  Charlie then followed their glances
to the other side of the room, where Primate and Mrs. Bin were quietly arguing over a new program now showing on the telecron screen.

  "Darda, there is absolutely no comparison between the two— why, only last week the same thing happened on another program."

  "I can't accept that," the Primate told his wife, "it's not a parallel case."

  "Father," Dondee whispered to Charlie, "always says it's not a parallel case, when mother says something to prove her point!"

  Seeing that their parents were well engrossed in the program, they both beckoned to Charlie to follow them out onto the center hallway of the tier. Biri ran her hand round and round over the smooth surface of the upper end of the balustrade. Then all three looked down the center pit with its occasional safety nets, way down through the eighteen tiers of the long, spiralling stairwell.

  "But," said Biri, "didn't we promise we wouldn't, when we talked to father before the trial?"

  "Oh no," Dondee said quickly. "All we did was try to bargain with him for Charles's freedom."

  "Do you know what we are thinking?" Biri asked Charlie, still caressing the top of the stairway railing.

  "I sure do!" he agreed. "Huh, you think I don't know how to do that. Just watch me!"