The Space Barbarians

by Mack Reynolds

  DeRudder looked at him contemptuously. “You went to a lot of trouble to send a message that’ll be ignored, old man. United Mining isn’t about to leave Caledonia. And what are you going to do about it? You have no power capable of enforcing your desires. Half your towns have already been destroyed. And here you are, sulking in the hills, afraid to attempt to raid the cities any more. Afraid to come out like men, take your punishment and join up with the rest of this planet on its march to progress.”

  “You will see whether the clannsmen of the Loch Confederation are slinks, man from Beyond, all in good time. And now, prepare to return to your New Sidon City.” Thomas of the Polks turned from him and addressed the assembly once more.

  “If there is no protest, the second matter to come before the Dail will be submitted by Donald of the Warrens, Senior Bedel of the Loch Confederation.”

  No one spoke, and an elderly, black clad religious came forth from the ranks of the bedels and Keepers of the Faith.

  There was a defiant element in his aged voice. “I say the faults of John, Sachem of the Clan Hawk of the former town of Aberdeen and Supreme Raid Cacique of the Confederation.”

  There was a hush that could be felt.

  John of the Hawks stood, shocked. He looked about him in bewilderment.

  The bedel went on doggedly, “Since being raised up to supreme raid cacique, John of the Hawks has broken the bann a score of times and more. He has forbidden his men to count honorable coup on the enemy, which is against the bann. He has used weapons that are against the bann. He has read books other than the Holy Books, books from Beyond that should be read, if at all, only by bedels and Keepers of the Faith. It is against the bann. He has spoken slightingly of the powers of the Holy and has cast doubt about the existence of the Land of Leal, for which we all yearn when life is through. It is against the bann.”

  John of the Hawks was breathing deeply. When the other paused, he held up a hand. “Now hear me. You have listened to this clannless one from Beyond. He has explained to you that the Sidonians will never leave of their own will. If they are to go, we must expel them. Think you, Donald, Bedel of the Warrens, that we can expel them with claidheammors and carbines? We must learn from them. We were like children when it came to killing, when first they arrived. We must learn to use the laser rifles their handguns and pistols that fire a beam of light.”

  “It is against the bann!”

  “Then the bann must go!”

  “The bann is the word of the Holy!”

  “I doubt it. Who says so, besides the bedels and Keepers of the Faith?”

  “It is against the bann to speak thus!”

  “Then so be it, Donald of the Warrens. But if I and my clannsmen are to defeat the Sidonians, then we must use these new weapons. We must read the books and find still other methods to confound them. Can you tell me another way in which we can expel them from Caledonia?”

  “Yes! By returning to the ways of the Holy. Since your breaking of the bann, his face has been turned from us. Thus our towns have been destroyed, our people slaughtered. It is all because we have turned from the faith of our fathers.” The bedel spun and addressed the chiefs. “I say John of the Hawks be cast down from his post as supreme raid cacique.”

  David, eldest bedel of the Aberdeen Phylum, came to his feet. “I say John of the Hawks be cast down from his rank as Sachem of the Hawks.”

  William of the Hawks, the clan bedel, came sadly to his feet. “I say John of the Hawks be cast down from clannsman and that his kilts be stripped from him.”

  Don of the Clarks was on his feet. “I say the praises of John of the Hawks,” he shouted. “Who among us has so often been sung by the bards? Who among us has so often had the criers shout his exploits through the streets of the town?”

  Donald of the Warrens said, “It has never been a question of the bravery of John of the Hawks or how often the bards have sung his praises. It is a matter of breaking the bann and bringing disgrace to the Clann Hawk, the Phylum of Aberdeen and to the entire Loch Confederation. He must go, before the Holy allows us all to be destroyed.”

  William of the Davidsons called from the ranks of the sagamores, “I say the praises of John of the Hawks. Since he has led the clannsmen in raid, never before have we had such success. Why, even three days before, we killed sixteen or more of the men from Beyond and seized much of their property, and not one among us was lost. He is the greatest raid cacique that ever the bards have sung.”

  And Donald of the Warrens answered doggedly, “It is not contended that John of the Hawks is not a leader of men. No one would ever brand him a slink. But it is not the matter. He violates the bann and thus turns the face of the Holy against us.”

  Richard of the Fieldings was on his feet. “He has saved my life three times in raid. I say the praises of John of the Hawks!”

  It was William Bedel of the Hawks, who answered this time, his voice infinitely sad. “He is my own kyn, but he breaks the bann and teaches that others break it. He must be cast down, or the faith of our fathers is destroyed.”

  There were more to have their say, many more. First from the ranks of the sachems and caciques, then, in their turn, the clannsmen, but the final say was from Mildred, a Keeper of the Faith, as respected as any.

  “The question today,” she said, her voice carrying, in spite of the softness of tone, “is not that of John of the Hawks. None would deny his position as our greatest raider. The question is, do we abandon our traditions, in our efforts against the men from Beyond, or do we go on secure in our faith in the Holy? I say, John of the Hawks must be stripped of his clannsman’s kilts and turned away.”

  Ultimately, it was put to the vote of the sachems and caciques, and shock came over the face of John and his closest supporters when the vote carried by a small majority. He turned in his bewilderment to the assembly of the clannsmen, but when the vote was taken here his sholders slumped in disbelief.

  Donald of the Warrens said, “It is now time to dishonor John, the clannless one. Who among all will volunteer?”

  Several clannsmen and even caciques began to move forward, old enemies and rivals, John saw dully.

  But Don of the Clarks stepped forward more quickly than any others. He stood before his former commander.

  John shook his head. “And… and you, too, Don of the Clarks?”

  Don, agony in his face, struck him symbolically with his coup stick. “Only that none other could dishonor my blood comrade,” he said hoarsely.

  He reached out and unbuckled the belt of John’s kilts and pulled them away. A clannsman came up and proffered the colorless kilt of a clannless field worker. Dully, John belted it about his hips.

  Don had taken the bolstered laser pistol that John had appropriated from DeRudder. Now he took it to the cornet.

  “You’d best have this,” he said flatly. “On your return, you will possibly be subjected to raiders. Not of this confederation, but others do not know of your position as messenger from this Dail to New Sidon City.”

  Samuel DeRudder belted the holster about him. He gestured with a thumb toward John, who, his head low, was being escorted away by two clannsmen, both of whom wore shame on their faces.

  “What happens to him now?” DeRudder said.

  “What matter to you?” Don of the Clarks growled.

  “I just wondered,” DeRudder said dryly. “There goes the man that but a few hours ago you named the hope of the Caledonians.”

  Chapter Four

  Don of the Clarks and Cornet Samuel DeRudder ate before the Sidonian was again blindfolded, mounted on a horse and led away by the Clann Clark Raid Cacique. During their ride of an hour or more, Don said little, immersed in his own bitter thoughts.

  Finally they halted, and the blindfold was removed.

  Don of the Clarks pointed. “In that direction lies your cursed New Sidon City. You will probably not make it before late tomorrow, at earliest. In your saddlebags are bread and meat. For the sake of your mes
sage, I hope you are not stumbled upon by raiders from the Highland Confederation or those from Ayr.”

  DeRudder looked at him questioningly. “Your friend John seemed to be in favor of uniting with these other confederations to combat us. I wonder why you haven’t done it.”

  Don looked at him uncomfortably. “Perhaps because although it is not against the bann, it is not meet. The Keepers of the Faith oppose such large scale raids that whole confederations would be involved. Too much of the blood would be spilt.”

  DeRudder laughed suddenly. “The United Interplanetary Mining Company ought to subsidize these Keepers of the Faith of yours.”

  The clannsman’s face darkened, but he said nothing.

  Instead, his eyes had gone to the ground, and he scowled at something he evidently saw there.

  He said, “I’ll go on with you for a way.”

  DeRudder was mystified but shrugged it off and kicked heels into the side of his beast.

  A few minutes later, he saw the reason for the other’s continued presence. They topped a rise and sported before them John, trudging across the heath, alone and unmounted.

  He heard them shortly and turned. His face was empty.

  Don drew up and dismounted. He unstrapped the harness around his waist and held out the claidheammor and skean scabbards and the reins of his animal.

  He said simply, “I can walk back.”

  John looked at him. Finally he said, “As a clannless one, I am forbidden the wearing of the claidheammor.”

  Don said, “Yes, I know. And any clannsman who found you without clann kilts and bearing arms would attack you. But what is the alternative… John? Your only way to survive now would be to enter the longhouse of some clann as a servant. And I do not think he who was once supreme raid cacique could ever become a servant. I understand that in the mountains some clannless ones, products of the destroyed towns, have banded together and survive by raiding both the Sidonians and the phyla. Perhaps you can find them.”

  John shook his head at him in surprise. “You would have me turn into a clannless bandit?”

  “I would have you live, for until you were stripped of your kilts… John, we were blood comrades. And… and though it be against the bann, for me, we still remain.” He turned and walked back in the direction from which he and DeRudder had just come.

  John looked after him until he disappeared over the rise of hill.

  DeRudder said dryly, “Greater love hath no man, eh?”

  John said, “You wouldn’t understand, Samuel of the DeRudders.” He swung his leg up over the saddle.

  “Perhaps I would,” DeRudder said. “There’s another alternative to joining up with the hill bandits, you know.”

  John grunted. “Yes. I can continue to roam the heath until I run into a raider band and am cut down.”

  DeRudder fell in beside him. “You can come to New Sidon City.”

  John grunted again. “It had never occurred to me.”

  “Think about it.”

  John was irritated. “What would I do in this city of yours? I know nothing of cities. Besides, you Sidonians carry the bloodfeud with he who was once Supreme Raid Cacique of the Loch Confederation.”

  “We don’t have any such institution as the bloodfeud, John. And above all, we need capable men, and especially capable Caledonians, if ever we are to develop this fantastic world.”

  John was scowling. “But you and I carry the bloodfeud. You shamed me when I was but a lad.”

  DeRudder said in deprecation, “You forget your own ways, John. I thought a clannless one, such as yourself, was not allowed such luxuries as vendetta.”

  The big man flushed. “You are correct,” he said in a low voice. “I had forgotten.” He added, “For that matter, you too are clannless. We are both men without honor.”

  “Among civilized men, you can gain or lose honor only through your own actions.”

  The conception was new to the Caledonian, and he could only scowl as he thought about it. “But one who is born clannless?”

  “Like everyone else, makes or fails to make his own degree of honor, or ethics, if you will.”

  “Any Keeper of the Faith can tell you that true honor and faith are only in the hands of the phylum and down, through it, to the clanns.”

  DeRudder looked at him in amusement. “Don’t you think you have finally arrived at the point where you should reject some of these teachings of the Keepers of the Faith? In fact, you already have. That’s why you’re on your own. By the way, you’d better make up your mind whether or not you wish to accompany me to New Sidon City.”

  “Why?”

  DeRudder pointed. “Because there is a skimmer, and they’ve probably detected our body heat and will be on the scene shortly.”

  John stared up at the distant dot in the sky. “It seems as though my decision has been made for me. If I refuse to go with you, they will undoubtedly cut me down with their flamers.”

  “I can see no particular reason to allow you to take to the hills and do your best to raid our mining developments.”

  As the aircraft grew larger, John, staring up at it, said, “What makes it fly?”

  DeRudder chuckled. “John, you wouldn’t understand if I tried to tell you.”

  “I am not a fool, Samuel of the DeRudders,” the Caledonian said coldly.

  “It is not a matter of being a fool. You would not even understand the terminology. When you are in New Sidon City, you can attend school, possibly at night. At least you can already read and have even done a certain amount of studying of some of the books you’ve captured from us—in spite of the banns of your Keepers of the Faith. In a year or two, perhaps you’ll have progressed to the point where aerodynamics need not be a complete mystery.”

  “School?” John said. “I thought you would put me to work in your mines.”

  “School, too,” DeRudder said. “I keep telling you, we are here to develop this benighted planet. Uneducated half savages don’t lend themselves to a civilized culture. One of our biggest tasks is to get the population into schools. Besides, our mines are not the only projects that call for employees. There are a thousand tasks involved in conducting a city such as New Sidon. Where you’ll fit in, I don’t know at this stage.”

  The skimmer came swooping in, circled them twice, then settled some fifty feet off.

  A loudspeaker said, “Identify yourselves.”

  DeRudder barked, “I am Cornet Samuel DeRudder of New Sidon City, and this is John Hawk, formerly of the town of Aberdeen but who now is to take a position with United Interplanetary Mines.”

  An entry port opened, and a warrant and two enlisted men issued forth, all three with hand weapons at the ready. The warrant saluted DeRudder but turned a beady eye to the giant Caledonian.

  “Drop those toad stickers you’re wearing, friend. You won’t need them in the city.”

  John unbuckled his belt and let the claidheammor and skean drop to the ground.

  Even as he dismounted, DeRudder said, “You can take us to New Sidon? I don’t seem to recognize you, Warrant.”

  “Yes, sir. We’re from Berkeley, sir, but sure we can take you back to your own city. It’s more or less on the way. What are you doing out here, sir?”

  DeRudder said briefly, “I was captured by clannsmen of the Loch Confederation, but they turned me loose. This man volunteered to return to New Sidon with me.”

  “Turned you loose? That’s a new one, sir.” John had dismounted too. Now the Sidonian warrant approached him warily and gave him a quick frisking. “Sorry,” he said, “but you know how it is.”

  “I vouch for him, soldier,” DeRudder said testily.

  “Yes, sir. However, I know a case where one of these dallies got taken prisoner and into a skimmer, and what d’ya think happens? Once a couple of hundred feet up into the air and he whips out a sticker like they carry and nigh finishes off the whole crew before somebody manages to flame him down.”

  John bore the search, whi
ch revealed nothing. The warrant led the way back to the skycraft, the wary enlisted men, guns still at the ready, bringing up the rear.

  Inside the craft, John took a deep breath as it began to rise. Long years before he had once ridden in a surface craft of the men from Beyond. Now, as then, there was a sinking in the belly as the strange means of locomotion began. They were seated in the rear, in only moderately comfortable metal seats, obviously a compartment for soldiers being airlifted from point to point when trouble arose. By straining, he could see out a small port. He closed his eyes briefly as the ground sank away.

  DeRudder said mockingly, “And how, John Hawk, are your clannsmen going to defeat enemies that have devices such as this at their command?”

  John cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”

  Through the port, John could see the city loom before them. He had seen it before, from a distance and from the hills, but he had not realized its magnitude. And this was but one of the cities of the men from Beyond, nor did he know whether it was the largest. But certainly no town in the Loch Confederation began to rival it, or any other in all Caledonia, as far as he knew.

  It was a walled city, situated along a river, and in the approximate center was a great cleared space, obviously landing ground for such craft as the skimmer in which they rode, and for great ships from space as well. Their own airborne vessel made for it, the pilot receiving landing instructions as they came in.

  John attempted to disguise his relief that the trip through the air had ended without tragedy. Although in his time, he had scaled fairly formidable mountains, he had never liked the sensation of height.