The People

by Зенна Гендерсон

  "And I told him so, too." The figures moved in, quiet inches above the crunch of the mine floor. "Remember me, Debbie? It's Valancy. Maybe you've forgotten-"

  "Forgotten? Oh, Valancy!" And we were hugging each other tightly. There was a lovely, warm intermingling of thoughts among the three of us, and all sorts of explanations-Jemmy had had no idea Child Within was so nearly ready to be born-and apologies-"If I'd had any idea, but when you-" and acceptances and reasons why and such things as Necessary Patterns-"Since you had the situation in hand I went to see if someone else-" until finally, chastened and relaxed, I watched Valancy cuddling my child.

  How could I ever have forgotten Jemmy and Valancy-the glamorous Grown-ups-the Old Ones of the Group of my People in Cougar Canyon, when the Canyon was still habitable. We had all waved them good-by when our ship left for the Home so long ago.

  "You can look," said Valancy to Jemmy. "But don't touch." Then she contradicted herself by putting the sleeping bundle into his arms. She snapped her fingers and a small bundle floated in from the mine entrance.

  "I brought some clothes," she said. "Though it looks as if Glory has things well in hand. But here are some of Our Child's clothes. She grew so fast that she hardly got to use some of them. If we don't tell him, Thann-too will never know he had to wear girl-type clothes." She unfolded the torn blanket square from around the baby. "And there's the gown," she said, smiling, fingering the hem of it, now regrettably damp.

  "There's the gown," I said. "Oh, Valancy, wasn't I the luckiest person in the whole world to have Glory with me? I didn't deserve it a bit! What a mess I was!"

  "The Glorys of this world have to put up with a lot of messes," said Valancy, deftly changing my child from the skin out, and returning him, still blissfully sleeping, to my arms. She folded the wet clothes and bundled them up.

  "We're taking you and the child back with us," said Jemmy. "We'd better wake Glory and tell her."

  "Glory!" I called softly and audibly.

  Instantly she was awake and out of bed, blinking in the dimness. "Glory, my People have come," I said. "'They want to take me and Thann-too back with them. But I'll be back, just as soon as I can."

  Valancy surrendered the baby into Glory's waiting arms. She held him close. "I reckon you do have to go," she said, her voice muffled against his blanket. "He's going to be needing diapers by the dozen pretty darn soon. It'd keep us hopping, washing out what we have."

  "We brought some supplies for you," said Jemmy. "They're from the disaster unit. We're working all around this area helping people who got flooded out."

  "Is Jicker all right?" Seth's voice came huskily.

  "Jicker?" Jemmy did some fast scanning-"Oh, yes," chuckled Jemmy. "I remember

  him. We fished him off the roof of his cabin. Never heard such cussing in all my life. Ten minutes solid without repeating himself once!"

  "That's Jicker," grinned Seth and settled back down. "I'm glad the old cuss is okay."

  Jemmy was looking around the shadowy room. "This is the Skagmore, isn't it?" he said. "I thought she was played out a long time ago."

  "She was-a couple of times," said Seth. "But we managed to find a few more pockets. Enough to keep us going for a while, but I reckon she's about done for now, with all this water and stuff."

  "We had a mine on the other side of Baldy," said Jemmy. "When we moved on up into the hills we didn't think there was enough left to make it worthwhile to leave a crew behind. I think there's pretty good pickin's there for a couple of willing workers. A sort of shack's there, too, where the fellows bunked when it was their shift. I think we piped the spring into the kitchen the last summer. It's not bad. As soon as we get Debbie settled at home, we'll come back and take you there. You can look the setup over and see if you'd like to take a whack at it."

  "Thanks," said Glory huskily. "We'll give her a look. We're kinda wiped out here. This is it." She gestured at the few possessions huddled around the glowing wheel.

  "And only the clothes they stand in," I added. "And Glory's treasure box." I lifted the shoe box from the edge of Seth's bed and floated it to Glory's hands. "Glory," I said on sudden impulse, "do you have your mirror in there?"

  "The pieces." Glory's face reddened slightly. "Silly, keeping useless things."

  "Show it to them," I asked. "They know I broke it."

  Slowly Glory took the lid off the box and carefully lifted out the mirror. She had fitted all the broken pieces together and they caught and cut into pieces what little light there was in the cave. I took the mirror from her and looked into it at my shattered, shamed face. "Jemmy," I said, holding it out to him. "I broke it. I ruined something I can't make right. Can you help me?"

  Jemmy took the mirror and stared down into it, his face tight with concentration. After long seconds, there was a sudden liquid flow of light and the broken pieces of glass melted into one another and glazed across. He gave the mirror back to me and I saw myself mended and whole again.

  "Here, Glory," I said, putting it into her hands. "It's only a part of all the apologies and makings-up for what I owe you."

  She ran her finger across the mended glass, her face tender with memories.

  "Thanks," she said. "I appreciate it."

  Jemmy was bringing in a carrycase for me so I wouldn't have to exert myself at all on the return trip. Glory held Thann-too while Valancy and Jemmy got me settled. She fingered the soft warmth of the baby blanket and burrowed in to uncover one of the tiny pink hands. She tucked it back gently, folding the cuff of the gown around it first.

  "Where's the other stuff?" she asked. "No sense taking makeshifts back with you."

  "No," I said. "You can't have the gown back, even if you do want to keep it. That's Thann-too's very first gown, and might have been his only gown if things hadn't worked out as they did. It's staying in our family, every thoughtful stitch of it, and Thann-too's first child will wear it-" I broke off, overwhelmed by a sudden thought. "Oh, Valancy! I'm a mother! And when Thann-too grows up, I'll be a grandmother/"

  They all laughed at my shocked astonishment. And the emotional temperature of our parting eased.

  When Jemmy and Valancy were ready to transport me out into a sky aglow with moonlight and puffy leftover clouds, Glory knelt to surrender my baby into my arms. I reached up and hugged her fiercely to me. "You're Thann-too's grandma, and don't you forget it," I whispered. "I'll be back. We'll both be back, and make everything as right as we can after such a horrible beginning. Honestly, all the People aren't as bad as I make them seem. Don't judge them by me."

  "Your folks seem to be mighty nice." Glory was ignoring the tears that stood in her eyes. "I-I never minded you too much. Kids will be kids and then there was Child Within-" Her finger touched his sleeping cheek and she stood up abruptly. "Lordee! Here I am in my nightclothes in front of ever'body!" And she retreated into the shadows to find her slicker to use for a robe.

  I waved good-by once as we launched out over the waters. Glory's arm went up in brief salute and she turned back into the darkness without waiting to see us gone.

  "You certainly lucked out there, didn't you?" said Jemmy from behind me.

  "Didn't I?" I murmured drowsily. "I didn't expect an angel in jeans and plaid shirt. That's not an excuse. It's an explanation."

  Jemmy chuckled and in silence we streaked across the sky. I closed my eyes against the brightness of the moon. Swallowing sorrow and hugging my child close against me, I whispered, "Oh, Thann-oh, Thann-oh, Thann!"

  And felt him very near. "Chee!" Meris's breath came out in a long sigh.

  "Hmm," said Mark, unfolding his long legs to attend again to the fire. "Not exactly-" He broke off, absorbed in poking the coals.

  Debbie laughed. "Not exactly the behavior you would expect from one of the People?" she said.

  "Well, I guess that's it." He reached for another length of wood.

  "Don't think it wasn't a big blow to me, too, when I finally stepped back for a good look." Debbie sobered, the
flaring fire lighting her face. "Of course the People are far from perfect, but it was terribly humbling to me to realize that I was a big, fat part of the clay on the feet thereof and an excellent object lesson to the rising generation. Believe me, I've learned to check myself often against a standard more reliable than my own egocentric two-foot yardstick."

  "Thann-too," mused Meris. "Eva-lee's husband was named Thann."

  "Yes," said Debbie. "He was one of my-Thann's Befores. Thann is a fairly common name among us."

  "Speaking of names," said Meris casually, "'do you know a Timmy and-"

  "And a Lytha?" Debbie laughed. "I passed Bethie on my way in! She said you were wondering-Maybe someday you can hear their story from them in person. I don't have it well enough to pass it on."

  "Well, I just thought," Merle smiled.

  "Bed." Mark stood and stretched. "Bed for our guest along with our many thanks. How long can you stay?"

  "Only tonight and tomorrow night," said Debbie. "I have involvements back with the Group, but Bethie wants me to stay long enough to tell you about Shadow."

  "Shadow?" Meris laughed.

  Mark laughed. "Look at her ears prick up!"

  "Yes, Shadow," said Debbie. "She's a Too, too. In fact she is Bethie-too. She and-you know her brother-Remy had quite an experience not so long ago. In the light of recent developments, Bethie thought you might like to hear of it. Also, it all started pretty close to your summer cabin. You see, from where you live, you go northeast about-" She broke off. "Bed," she said firmly. "Bed, right now. Talking is almost as addictive as listening."

  The next evening-school keeps, guest or no guest, and Mark had daily duties-Debbie settling down on the couch between Mark and Meris said, "I suppose that Bethie was relieved to be called away before she could tell you this segment of our story. It concerns mostly her own family and she's so shy about talking of herself or those close to her." Debbie laughed. "It is to smile a little ruefully for me to realize how parallel my actions and thinking were with Remy's, only he's really a Teener and I was supposed to be a responsible married woman.

  "Well, anyway, give me your hands and listen to Shadow-"

  SHADOW ON THE MOON

  "No, we can't even consider it." Father smoothed his hand along the board he was planing. It was to be a small table for Mother's birthday. I curled one of the good smelling shavings around my finger as I listened.

  "But, Father-" I could see Remy's hands clenching themselves as he tried to control his voice and keep it low and reasonable-a real job for the volatile person he was. "If you'd only-"

  Father put the plane down and looked at Remy. I mean really looked at him, giving him his full attention. "Has anything changed materially since last we discussed the matter?" he asked.

  "Apparently not." Remy laughed shortly. "1 hoped you might have-If you'd only consider it-"

  "You know I'm not the only one that thinks this way," said Father. "Though I concur heartily with the thinking of the rest of the Old Ones. No good would be served. Can't you see that, Remy?"

  "I can't see any flat statement like that!" cried Remy, his control of his impatience beginning to slip. "Every step of progress anyone makes is some good. Why don't you let us-"

  "Look, Remy." Father sat on one hip on the edge of the workbench. "Shall we A B C it again. A-we couldn't possibly let anyone else know we had gone to the moon in a spacecraft. B-to the best of our knowledge, there is no immediate need for anything to be found on the moon. C-he smiled-" 'We bin there already.' At least on our way in. And that was enough for most of us. It looked as good to us as the Statue of Liberty did to the flood of immigrants that used to come over from Europe, but we're most of us content to stay where we are now-looking at it from this side, not that." He grinned at Remy. "Unless you have any information that would materially alter any of these three checkpoints, I'm afraid the discussion is closed-"

  "Why couldn't we tell?" cried Remy desperately, feeling the whole situation going down the drain. "Why do we have to keep it a secret? Isn't everyone risking their lives and spending fortunes trying to get into Space? Why can't we help?" He broke off because his throat got so tight with anger and frustrated tears that he couldn't talk any more.

  Father sighed patiently. "So we go to the moon and back and announce it. So they all swarm around. Can't you hear them screaming?-What propellant? What engine? Escape velocity-air pressure-radiation-landing-return launching –reentry! What would you tell them? Go on, boy-type, answer the nice people. Show them the engines. What? No engines! Show them the fuel tank. їQue? No fuel tank! Show them our protection against radiation. Quoi? No protection?

  "No, Remy. I wish, because you want it so much, that we could make this expedition for you. Your grandfather's memories of Space can hardly be much comfort to you at your age. But it's out of the question. We cannot deliver ourselves over to the Outsiders for the whim of just one of us. If only you'd reconcile yourself to it-"

  "What's the use then?" Remy flung at Father. "What's the use of being able to if we don't?"

  "Being able to is not always the standard to go by," said Father. He flicked his fingers at the ceiling and we three watched the snowflakes drift down starrily to cover the workbench. "Your mother loves to watch the snow," he said, "but she doesn't go around snowing all the time." He stopped the snow with a snap of his fingers and it dampened the wood shavings with its melting. "No, just being able to is not a valid reason. And reason there must be before action."

  Remy kicked a block of wood out of the workshop and all the way up the slope to our walnut tree on the hill above the twisted, glittering string that was Cayuse Creek. I followed along. I always follow along-Remy's shadow, they call me-and he usually pays about that much attention to me. What can I expect

  else, being a girl and his sister besides. But I like it because Remy does things-lots of things-and he can usually use a listening ear. I am the willing ear. I'm Bethie-too, because Mother is Bethie.

  "Then we'll do it by ourselves!" he muttered as he dug a rock out of the ground where it was poking his shoulder when he tried to relax against the hillside. "We'll build our own craft and we'll go by ourselves!" He was so used to me that he automatically said "we"-though it usually meant he had decided he'd do something-a sort of royal "we." He lay back under the tree, his hands under his head, his eyes rebelliously on the leaves above. I sat by him, trying to snow like Father had, but all I got was cold fingertips and one big drop of rain that I flicked at Remy. He wiped it off and glared up at the canopy of leaves. "Derned old birds!"

  I laughed.

  "Go on! Laugh!" he said, jerking upright. "Fine deal when my own sister laughs!"

  "Remy." I looked at him, smiling. "You're acting about ten years below yourself and a seven-year-old isn't very attractive in a frame the size of yours!"

  He sank back and grinned. "Well, I bet I could. A craft wouldn't be so hard to build. I could use scrap metal-though why does it have to be metal? And we could check in the newspaper for when Canaveral says is the best time-"

  "Remy"-the light in his eyes quenched at the tone of my voice-"how far is it to the moon?"

  "Well, us-I'm not for sure. I think it's about 250,000 miles, give or take a couple of blocks."

  "How far have you ever lifted a vehicle?" I asked.

  "Well, at least five miles-with your help! With your help!" he hastened as I looked at him.

  "And how far out of the atmosphere?" I asked.

  "Why none at all, of course! Father won't let me-"

  "And in free fall? And landing in no air? And coming back?"

  "All right! All right! Don't rub it in," he said sulkily. "But you wait!" he promised. "I'll get into Space yet!"

  That evening, Father quirked an eyebrow when Remy said he wanted to start training to become a Motiver. Oh, he could learn it-most any of The People could-but it's a mighty uphill job of it if you aren't especially gifted for it. A gifted Motiver hardly needs any training except in how to concentr
ate on a given project for the time necessary. But Remy would have to start from scratch, which is only a notch or two above Outsider performance-which is mostly nil. Father and Remy both knew Remy was just being stubborn because he so wanted to go out into Space, but Father let him go to Ron for study and I got pretty lonely in the hours he spent away from camp. After all, what is there for a shadow to do when there's no one to follow around?

  For a day or two I ranged above the near slopes and hills, astonishing the circling buzzards by peering over their thin, wide wings, or catching a tingly downward slide on the last slants of the evening sun through the Chimneys. The Chimneys are spare, angular fingers of granite that thrust themselves nakedly up among the wooded hills along one bank of the Cayuse. But exploring on your own stops being fun after a while and I was pretty lonesome the evening I brought Mother a little cottontail rabbit I'd taken away from a coyote on the edge of night.

  "I can tell he's hurt," I said, holding the soft, furry thing gently in my hands and securely in my Concern. It lay unwinking on my palms, its quick nose its only movement.

  "But I can't decide whether it's a break or a strain. Tell me again how to tell the difference."

  Mother laid her hand softly on the creature after reassuring it with her Concern. "It's a strain," she said softly. "Don't you sense " And the rest of it was thinking that has no separate words for it so I can't write it down.

  And I did finally Sense the strain in the rabbit's muscles and the difference

  between it and how a break in a bone would feel.

  "Oh, yes," I said. "I won't forget again. Shall I let him go, then?"

  "Better put him in the patient-pen," said Mother. "At least for the night. Nothing will fright him there and we can let him go tomorrow."

  So we slipped him into the pen and Mother and I leaned over to watch him hide himself in the green tangle of growing things at the far end. Then I carefully did as Mother did. We reached inside ourselves to channel away the pain we had Sensed. That's one of the most important things to be learned if you're a Sensitive-which we both are. When Mother was a girl, she lived among Outsiders and she was almost destroyed before she found our Group and was taught how to Channel.