Lightspeed: Year One
Page 5
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.
Lynx glanced at the prisoners, who were now on their feet and hurrying away.
Lion and the monkeyman were soon lost in the darkness, but Lynx could hear them cursing. He considered waking Tiger, who might restrain Lion. But Tiger might also notice the prisoners fleeing.
Then the monkeyman let out an anguished wail, and Tiger opened his eyes. Lynx had no choice. He cried, “Tiger!”
The templar reached for his sword. “What?”
Lynx pointed. “Lion. He’s gone crazy!”
Tiger leapt up, and Lynx followed. As they reached the bottom of the hill, Lion stepped from the shadows.
Tiger shouted, “What have you done?”
Lion was smug. “The monkeyman blasphemed with every word. I have silenced him.”
No! Lynx thought, hurrying forward, scanning the ground for a corpse.
But the monkeyman was alive, weeping, kneeling over the smashed remains of his magic amulet. There was a gash over his brow, and his eyes were forlorn as he uttered a string of gibberish.
Lion had spared the monkeyman’s life, but now there wasn’t a single being on Earth that the monkeyman could talk to.
Lynx said, “I’m so sorry . . . Charles.”
At the sound of his name, the monkeyman looked up. “Charles,” he repeated. He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and rose to his feet. Lynx took him by the arm, and they hiked back up the hill.
They entered camp just behind Tiger, who said, “Where are the prisoners?”
Lion looked stricken. He glanced about.
Tiger cursed. He ran across the camp and stared off down the far side of the hill. “Nothing. They’re gone.”
“I . . . ” Lion hesitated. Then he pointed to the monkeyman. “It’s his fault!”
“His fault?” Tiger raged. “Was it his job to watch the prisoners? Or was it yours?”
Lion stomped away, then turned back and glared at the monkeyman. “He knows something.”
“Maybe,” Tiger said. “No one’s ever freed themselves from my ropes before. We could question him . . . if you hadn’t ‘silenced’ him.”
Lion scowled.
Tiger gathered up some belongings. “It won’t matter. We’ll catch the dogmen again, and we’ll have the truth from their own lips.” His tone was grim. “And we’ll take no more chances. No more prisoners. The dogmen die.”
The catmen walked all through the night, and at dawn they came upon a shallow cave in which the dogmen were huddled together, sick and weary.
The templars strode forward, drawing their swords and advancing on the dogmen, who stood to meet them. The male pounded his meaty fist into his palm—a futile gesture of defiance. The dogmen were unarmed, and would be slaughtered. Lynx and the monkeyman watched helplessly.
But then Lynx called out, “Wait!”
Tiger paused and glanced back.
Lynx said, “Let Cat judge them.”
Lion sneered. “Cat’s feelings toward dogmen are well known.”
“Then what’s the harm?”
Tiger thought this over. He lowered his blade. “All right.”
Lynx approached the monkeyman, who was confused. Lynx nodded at the satchel, and the monkeyman got the idea. He lifted Cat free and set him on the ground.
Lynx knelt. “My lord, we have need of your wisdom. What is your wish for these dogmen? Please, give us a sign.”
Cat looked up at Lynx and said nothing.
Lion growled, “Why trouble Cat with this? He has already decreed death for all dogmen. Long ago.”
Lynx stood up and took a step back. He called gently, “Here, kitty kitty.”
Lion said, “What are you doing?”
Lynx backed up until he stood between the dogmen, then he crouched and called, “Here, kitty kitty kitty.”
Cat continued to stare.
Lynx said to the dogmen, “Come on. Like
this.” He added softly, “Please, just try.”
After a moment, the female bent down and called, “Here, kitty kitty.” The male did the same.
Lion was outraged. “What is this?”
But sure enough, Cat stirred. He picked his way across the ground until he stood before Lynx and the dogmen. Lynx reached out and scratched between Cat’s ears, and Cat purred. The female stroked Cat’s back. Cat wound among Lynx and the dogmen and rubbed against their legs.
The templars stood stunned. Tiger intoned, “Cat shows them favor.”
Lion said, “No! The Cat I serve shows no mercy to dogmen!”
Tiger gestured. “Look.”
“It’s some trick,” Lion said. “This . . . this is not Cat. It cannot be. Maybe this is one of the cats who—”
“That is heresy,” Tiger warned. “The cats were transformed into catmen. All of them.”
Lynx cried out, “Cat returns to Earth with a new message of peace!”
“No!” Lion shouted. “No! Cat, the eternal, does not change his mind.”
Tiger turned away and sheathed his sword.
Lion stared at him in horror. “What are you doing?”
“I will not stand against the incarnation.”
Lion was shocked. “What?”
Tiger said, “I must think on all this.” He stared coldly over his shoulder at the dogmen and said to them, “You have a reprieve from me, for now.” He began to walk away. To Lion he said, “Do as you like.”
Lion looked all around, at Cat, at the dogmen, at the monkeyman. Finally Lion shot Lynx a withering glare, then followed after Tiger.
Lynx waited until the templars were a good distance off, then he let out a long sigh of relief. He thought to himself: I can’t believe it. We won.
But his gladness was tempered by apprehension. The templars would return, and even if they didn’t they’d spread their tale. What would Father Cougar think? Or Lynx’s parents? And what would become of Cat and the monkeyman and the dogmen now? Others would come seeking them, he knew.
For a moment the group all watched each other uncertainly.
Then the monkeyman laughed. He stepped forward and introduced himself to the male. “Charles.” And then again to the female. “Charles.”