by Jeff Sutton
He studied it worriedly. In the still morning air, its red- and white-striped top hung limply between the supporting poles. He had a quick vision of it billowing in the wind, ripping loose from the stakes, soaring off into a blackened sky. If that happened, the lions would go mad with fright. He moved closer to inspect the metal stakes that held the tent ropes. They appeared firmly imbedded in the ground. Grasping one, he tugged at it experimentally.
It failed to budge.
"What do you think you're doing, boy?"
Jedro released the stake and whirled around, flushing at sight of the carnival owner. Tall and lean, Faust glared down at him.
"I was trying to see how strong it was," he explained.
"What business is that of yours?"
"There's a big storm coming."
Faust gazed upward at the cloudless sky. "On a day like this?" he demanded sarcastically.
"It's going to be a bad one," insisted Jedro. "A big rain, a wild wind.
I was worried about the lions."
A look of recognition came into the carnival owner's face. "Oh, you're Jason's helper -- the boy who captures lions." He laughed nastily.
Jedro said desperately, "The lions get nervous when it storms, and if anything happened to the big tent..."
"Suppose you let me worry about that," interrupted Faust. "Get back to your work. Next time I catch you fooling around with the stakes, out you go."
"Yes, sir." Jedro hurried away, glad to escape the carnival owner's wrath. But it was going to storm, he thought miserably. Even the animals knew that. At a safe distance he turned to look back. Standing in the middle of the sawdust street, Faust was gazing thoughtfully into the Page 38
yellow-blue sky.
In the late afternoon a black smudge appeared on the western horizon. It grew rapidly. Jedro watched it apprehensively, wondering how bad the storm would be. Recalling one in the Ullan Hills that had uprooted trees, flinging them through the air like straws, he shuddered.
Black, scudding clouds, like rivers in rampage, careened across the sky, blotting out both Klore and Bergon. The day darkened. A wind came up with alarming suddenness. Gusty and raw, it ballooned tents, caused banners to whip about with sharp cracking sounds, and sent candy wrappers and paper bags sailing along the sawdust street. Customers crowding the carnival grounds eyed the sky worriedly; many hurriedly began leaving.
A peal of thunder rolled across the sky; as if that were a signal, the rain lashed down. Jagged lightning flashes danced overhead. The gusty winds grew stronger and more erratic, swirling first one way and then another. With the violence of the storm increasing and the last of the customers fleeing in a drenching rain, the show abruptly was closed.
As if by magic, crews of roustabouts sprang into action. They pulled down banners and posters, double-staked tents, rushed ticket booths and barker platforms under cover. Metal awnings were lowered over booth fronts and locked into place. The merry-go-round was buttoned up around its perimeter, and the small cars that rolled through The Tunnel of Love were locked into place. The sky wheel was secured with heavy cables.
Jedro quieted the relks and horses as heavy wagons were drawn up to reinforce the weak fencing around the corrals. Later Jason Hart dispatched him to give whatever help was needed along the sawdust street.
Jedro found the carnival owner directing the work. His voice snapping curt orders, Faust appeared to be everywhere at once. Jedro saw him send The Strangler to move some heavy equipment, order The Human Pincushion to help the midget troupe, dispatch Barracuda to secure a loose tarp. His thin body wrapped in a transparent cape, Faust paused only occasionally to glance worriedly at the sky.
With the twisting, howling wind growing in fury, Jedro began fretting about the lions. Finding himself unobserved, he slipped away to visit them.
Vast and gloomy and empty, with the supporting poles swaying and creaking and the red- and white-striped tarp billowing in the wind, the main tent was a sea of movement. The beating rain filled it with muted thunder.
Hurrying across the sawdust ring, he found the big cats pacing nervously. They grew quiet at his approach. For a moment he watched them. The reflection of the night-light atop the main pole shone in their eyes. As the pole swayed, the light moved back and forth across their irises. Taber pressed forward against the bars, followed by Rana.
"Everything is all right," whispered Jedro. He scratched Taber's ear and tickled Rana under the jaw. The big cats purred. Jedro pulled himself to a sitting position on the platform and leaned against the cage. Talking soothingly, he petted the animals while he listened to the wind howl and watched the huge tarp billow overhead. He could understand the lions'
nervousness; the storm was frightening. He worried that it would get worse.
Taber suddenly growled, his eyes fixed on a point beyond Jedro's shoulder. Jedro whirled and saw Jason Hart approaching.
"Watcha doing, kid?" The lion tamer's voice was more worried than angry.
"They're nervous," he explained. "I'm quieting them."
"With your hand in the cage? Take it out, kid, before you lose it."
"They like to be petted."
"Take it out!"
"Yes, sir." Jedro slid off the platform.
"Don't do it again," the lion tamer warned bluntly. "They're unpredictable, kid. One minute Page 39
they're gentle and friendly, the next they're ripping out your throat. I know. They're jungle animals. All their instincts are to kill. When you think they're friendly, that's when they're sizing you up." He shook his head grimly, but his eyes were not unkind.
"I don't think it's that way at all," offered Jedro.
"Never take a chance," he advised. "I don't. That's why I'm still here after twenty years. Now see if you can find some way to help. This place is about to blow away."
"Yes, sir." Hurrying across the sawdust ring, Jedro thought that Jason Hart really didn't know much about lions, even if it was his job. Because he feared them, they feared him; their relationship was founded on mutual distrust. The big cats would respond to anyone who loved and understood them.
He believed it that simple.
As night fell, a broken electrical line plunged the carnival into darkness. Flashlights flickered to life, appearing like giant fireflies. In short time an emergency generator coughed to life and the lamps came on, casting an eerie glow over the sawdust street. Dr. Faust's big red- and white-striped trailer, swaying perilously in the wind, was driven into the main tent and parked near the lion cage.
Jedro was securing a loose tarp when he heard a scream. High and shrill in the wind, it held a note of terror. A woman's scream! He straightened, then heard it again -- old, quavering, filled with alarm and fear. Granny! Plunging toward her booth, he saw a glimmer of light through the curtains. He reached the door and yanked it open. "Granny," he yelled.
"For heaven's sake, come in," she screamed. He rushed through to the next room, halting abruptly at sight of the old woman standing atop the table that held the crystal ball. Holding her skirt tightly, she was staring downward, her wrinkled face a mask of pure terror.
Following her glance, he saw the floor appear to undulate. He took a quick backward step, at the same instant realizing that he was seeing a long, writhing body, scarcely discernible against its dark surroundings. "That's
Caesar, Wanda's snake," he blurted. "The storm must have scared it."
"Get it out of here," screamed Granny.
"Aw, it won't hurt you. Wanda says it's friendly."
"I don't care what Wanda says. Get it out of here!" Her voice shrill and cracked, she tried to rise on her toes as if to get farther away from it.
Jedro eyed the snake dubiously; at the moment it appeared to be all of the thirty-foot length the posters claimed it to be. Writhing, it drew its body back and the flat head came up. Beady black eyes reflecting the light of the overhead lamp fastened on him. Jedro felt none of the confidence he felt with the lions. Hoping The Snake Woman was right, he step
ped hesitantly toward it.
The snake lowered its head, its thick body coiling sinuously. Jedro abruptly halted as it glided toward him. Standing fearfully, he felt it brush against his leg; before he realized what was happening, the snake was coiling around him.
"It's just me, Caesar," he gasped.
"Take him outside," shouted Granny.
"He's winding around my legs!"
"I don't care, Jedro. Take him out this moment!"
"Sure," he croaked. Standing rigidly, he felt the snake entwine his torso until the small, flat head was weaving back and forth scarcely a foot from his face. The black pinpoint eyes were fixed on him. Eight or nine feet of the snake's body were still extended across the floor. Hobbling a few feet, he stooped cautiously and picked up the tail. As he straightened, it jerked free of his hand, then looped around his arm, all but immobilizing it. The weight of the large body made it difficult to stand.
"Don't play with it," Granny screamed hysterically.
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"I'm not," he gasped. He turned toward the door, the looped body restricting his steps to a few inches at a time. The snake constricted its coils, causing him to wheeze. "Take it easy, Caesar.
Don't get excited," he pleaded.
"Don't try to ingratiate yourself with that creature," shouted Granny.
"Get it out of here!"
"I'm trying," he said desperately. Watching the weaving black head fearfully, he hobbled toward the door. He managed to open it with his free hand and sidle outside. The snake reacted to the lashing rain by tightening its coils.
The door slammed behind him. A moment later it opened a few inches and Granny shouted, "Thank you, Jedro." It slammed again, this time with finality.
He peered through the storm. A light shone in The Snake Woman's window.
He started toward her booth, hampered both by the thick mud and the constriction of the anaconda's body. Maneuvering his free hand, he managed to grasp the snake just below the head; after that he breathed more easily.
Reaching the rear of the booth, he banged on the door.
"Who is it?" Her voice came faintly above the howl of the wind.
"Jedro," he shouted. "I've got Caesar!" Quick movement came from inside before the door opened. The Snake Woman stood framed against the light, with Kathy peering worriedly over her shoulder.
"Goodness, I just discovered that he'd gotten out of his box," exclaimed Wanda. "I'm certainly glad you found him." Jedro lurched through the doorway.
Wanda reached out, and the snake moved to meet her, slithering around her arm and up over her shoulder. Jedro exhaled with relief when the transfer was completed.
"It was at Granny's," he explained.
"Gracious, you're all wet," cried Wanda. "I'll make you a warm drink."
"I am kind of cold."
"Weren't you frightened?" asked Kathy.
"Naw," he answered disdainfully. "Caesar's harmless."
"He frightens most people half to death," declared Wanda. She let the snake uncoil from her body, dropping into a rectangular box, then shut the
lid. "Was Granny frightened?"
He grinned. "A bit nervous," he admitted.
"She had a right to be," stated Kathy.
The Snake Woman eyed him. "How did you get into the act?"
"I heard Granny yell."
"I'll bet she did." Wanda laughed. "Snakes frighten her stiff."
"Why? She's not afraid of the lions."
"Snakes are different," she answered. "Most women are afraid of snakes."
"You're not," he protested.
"I understand them." Her eyes weighed him. "I'm surprised that Caesar came to you. He keeps his distance from most people."
"Jedro has a way with animals," Kathy said admiringly.
"I don't know about snakes." He flushed.
"They're really quite friendly," explained Wanda. "Their looks frighten people more than anything else."
He grinned again. "He sure isn't pretty."
"But he is," she corrected. "Have you ever seen a more graceful animal?"
"Taber and Rana," he replied.
She shook her head. "Beautiful, yes, but they're awkward by comparison."
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"Do you think they're dangerous?" he asked with curiosity.
"Any animal can be dangerous. It's all in knowing how to handle them."
"What's the most dangerous animal?"
"The human animal," she answered. "He is by far the most dangerous."
Jedro gazed at her, not knowing what to say. Then she smiled, and added, "But that only applies to a few humans. Most of them are quite wonderful."
"That's what I think." he admitted shyly.
Over hot chocolate, they listened to the storm. Driven by gusty winds that shook the booth, the rain came in waves. Occasionally the lights flickered and dimmed.
Kathy said, "Jedro knows when a storm is coming." He flushed, remembering that he had boasted about it.
"Is that true?" Wanda eyed him over the rim of her cup.
"I guess so," he mumbled.
"How can you tell?"
"I just feel it."
"Old people sometimes feel it in their bones," she suggested.
"Jedro's not that old," exclaimed Kathy indignantly.
"Why shouldn't people know when a storm's coming?" he asked. "The animals know. You should have seen the relks and horses this morning, all skittish. The lions, too. I'll bet Caesar knew."
"He was skittish," admitted The Snake Woman.
"Animals can smell storms coming," he declared, not certain the statement was true. Kathy gazed admiringly at him.
"You should have warned us about this one," said Wanda.
"I did," he asserted. "I was worried about the lions."
"Who did you tell?"
"Dr. Faust." He saw her surprised glance and added, "He caught me testing the tent stakes."
"What did he say?" She raised her eyebrows enquiringly.
"He threatened to fire me."
She smiled. "He'll think twice about it next time."
"He can be mean." interrupted Kathy.
"He's a strange man," agreed Wanda. She lowered her eyes to her cup.
Falling silent, they listened to the howling winds.
Between rain squalls, Jedro made a dash toward his wagon. In the dim glow of the night-lights he saw the big tent undulating, at times ballooning outward as if it would burst. The sight brought back his worries about the
lions and he decided to check them.
The interior of the big tent was cold and drafty. The yellow glow cast by the single lamp suspended from the center pole shone down on the carnival owner's red- and white-striped trailer, which had been parked scarcely a dozen paces from the lion cage. He eyed the trailer uneasily. A narrow shaft of light seeped out from under the door. Listening, he heard nothing save the muted thunder of the rain, the creak of the swaying tent poles. He started forward again.
The lions ceased their pacing as he drew near. Their eyes, in the dim light, shone with a golden glow. Taber padded toward the bars, with Rana following. Jedro hopped up on the platform.
"Does the storm worry you?" He ran his fingers through Taber's mane and scratched Rana under the jaw. Sitting alongside the bars, he spoke reassuringly to them. Taber sprawled out, his big head on his paws. Jedro listened to the beat of the rain and wished the storm would pass.
Suddenly Rana snarled, backing away. As Jedro stared bewilderedly at her, Taber growled and Page 42
rose. His tail switching angrily, he looked past
Jedro's shoulder.
Startled, Jedro whirled. Standing in the doorway of the trailer, Faust and The Tattooed Man were regarding him woodenly. "Good night, fellows," Jedro croaked.
Slipping down from the platform, he raced from the big tent.
7
THE SUPERMINDS had been dead for more than six hundred years when Gerald Faust, then in his early twenties, had started his career a
s a master hypnotist on the nightclub circuit. From the stark reality of their existence, time had relegated the Superminds into well-worn niches in both academic texts and the lurid mythology of the Space-Age Man.
Gerald Faust was well acquainted with the mythology. Most people were, for the imaginary as well as the actual and make-believe heroes of the conquest of the solar system and, more recently, of interstellar space were daily fare in the pulps, comics, and on the three-view. But the legends of the
Superminds were, to Gerald Faust, most intriguing of all.
It had all started with Holton Lee, a mysterious eccentric multibillionaire who had founded the first colony on Ganymede, the largest of
Jupiter's moons.
Some whispered that Holton Lee was a spiritualist, others that he was a telepath; still others claimed that he could see into the future. Whatever his gift, the fact remained that by never guessing wrong in the stock market, he had quickly amassed the largest fortune ever held by an individual. Branching out, he had soon controlled the commercial carriers that supplied the growing moon colonies and the outposts on Mars. His wealth grew to staggering proportions.
It was then that Holton Lee had marked Ganymede as his own personal fief. When suitable subterranean space had been carved from the satellite's underlying rock mantle by controlled atomic fire, Holton Lee began building his community. For more than five years crews of workmen, paid at a fantastic rate, labored to create the colony of Holton Lee's dream. During the next few years he spent the remainder of his fortune in moving vast quantities of tools, supplies, and scientific and life-support equipment to his faraway world.
Not once during all that time did Holton Lee give a press release. Not once did he explain his purpose. When the job was finished, he was sixty years of age. Shortly thereafter, with a handful of followers, he left Earth for the
last time. On departure, he announced that he was severing all ties with both the world community and its other colonies in space.
Who were his disciples? No one knew. Research at the time indicated them to be mostly common people drawn from various parts of the world. None had previously figured in the news. How could the colony subsist without a lifeline to Earth? Speculation in the news media --
