Part 2

Outside they found that the first streaks of dawn were breaking over the river. They walked fifty feet before one of the mahutes shuffled out of a hut ahead of them. Another came from their right, and behind them they heard two more running toward them.

"There'll be more waiting for us up ahead," Lutscher said. "Are you going to try to shoot your way through them?"

Tang let his shoulders droop. "We'll go back to the hut," he said.

"You think you've won again," he told Lutscher, once they were there. "But I had a double purpose in taking our little trip. I think I know now how you communicate with your friends."

Lutscher glanced up. "You do?"

"Yes. Of the three species here only the clobers have vocal chords. I suspect the others are deaf as well as mute. Therefore, they either have a symbiosis among themselves, which you've somehow learned to penetrate, or their communication is telepathic."

"Good boy," Lutscher said enthusiastically. He seemed to harbor no resentment. "I'll admit you figured it out faster than I did," he said. "But I knew you would in time. And I allowed for that. You're right. All life on the planet, as far as I have been able to learn, is telepathic. But I still have the advantage. You don't know how to contact them. And I don't think you ever will find out."

"You're stupid if you think that." Despite himself Tang found that he was losing his temper. The man was so cocksure, and so far so untouchable. "It may take me time but I'll find it. I'll lay you odds on that."

"Yes, I guess you will," Lutscher said thoughtfully. "Sammy, you're like a bulldog with a bone. You never let go, do you? I suppose I should admire that quality in you, but I find myself wondering if I shouldn't have killed you when I first saw you."

"You probably should have," Tang said. "Because from here in I'm going to make certain that you never get the chance. Right now we're going to go through your things."

A motion of anger went over Lutscher's face as he caught the implication of Tang's words. "Damn you," he said.

"Get your boxes and dump them on your cot one at a time," Tang said. "I'll pick out what I want."

For a moment it seemed that Lutscher was going to be stubborn. But then, with a trait he had of moving his eyes and not turning his head, he glanced at the gun on Tang's hip and shrugged. He rose to his feet and walked over to his pile of boxes.

As Lutscher dumped the contents of each one on the cot Tang went through them and picked out what he wanted. At the end he had two pistols, a rifle, and several knives. "Now I'll take the key to your ship," he said.

Wordlessly Lutscher reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain with a small key on the end. He tossed it on the cot.

"I'll leave you for awhile," Tang said. "But I'll be back. And if I get any interference from your friends I'll kill them and you too. I don't _have_ to bring you back alive, you know."

* * * * *

Back at Lutscher's space ship Tang spent an hour transferring the fuel remaining in Lutscher's tanks to his own ship. When he finished his tanks were well over three-quarters full, more than enough to get him back to Gascol 11. He made no attempt to remove the weapons from Lutscher's vessel. He had the key, and if Lutscher were able to get that away from him there would be no stopping him anyway.

As he walked leisurely back to the village he wondered how Lutscher would receive him.

Unexpectedly Lutscher appeared to bear no grudge. "I'll admit I was a bit riled when you took my guns," he said. "But I suppose it's just the cop in you. And there's no point in our carrying a grudge. After all, we're the only humans on the planet and we're going to be here a long time, so we might as well stay friends."

Tang nodded but made no reply.

"Another thing," Lutscher said. "You've missed an angle in your calculations. You think that if you can discover how I communicate with the mahutes you'll be able to get your way. But once again you've underestimated me, my friend. The impression I've emphasized on them is that you're a bit demented. You act illogically. You're driven by compulsions that have to be restrained. And the mahutes are very susceptible."

Tang smiled. "You're clever," he said. "I'll admit it. But some day not too long from now you and I will be heading back to civilization. I promise you that."

"That remains to be seen," Lutscher answered. "Do you still want to take that trip through the village we were talking about last night?"

"Why not?"

They walked out of the hut and into the clouded sunlight of the outdoors. "Have you any idea just how intelligent the mahutes are?" Tang asked.

"Very low quotient," Lutscher answered. "In fact I'd say that most of their reactions were prompted by instinct rather than intelligence. They have approximately the same reasoning power as smart dogs."

"What else have you learned about them?"

"Not too much," Lutscher said. "But I've made a few surmises." He seemed to have entirely dismissed from his mind the unpleasant morning occurrence. "Have you ever heard the word, androgynous?"

"It refers to flowers, doesn't it? Something about their being able to seed themselves without stamin from other flowers?"

"That's pretty much it," Lutscher agreed. "I think that biologically the mahutes are the same as those flowers. Each possesses within himself the complete mechanism for self-fertilization. At least to me there's no apparent sexual differences in any I've seen, or even evidence of reproductive organs."

"That's interesting," Tang said. "How about the clobers? Could there possibly be any biological connection between them and the mahutes? Without exception each mahute has one with him wherever he goes."

"That's true," Lutscher replied. "But I suppose they just like pets. By the way, we'll have to stop here. We're at the edge of the section where the ankites--the stick-insects--live. It's taboo territory."

* * * * *

For some reason Tang received the distinct impression that Lutscher had changed the subject to avoid speaking further of the clobers. In the back of his mind he filed that away for future reference. "Why should this area be taboo?" he asked. "The ankites seem to come and go among the mahutes without hindrance. Or is it taboo just to you and me?"

"No. A mahute wouldn't think of entering here. They have some deep fear of the place. What it is I don't know. They don't seem to fear the ankites themselves."

They turned and started back for their own section of the village. "There's another thing that puzzles me," Tang said. "That's the sealed huts. What do you know about them?"

"Nothing, except that about one in every three is sealed. I don't know why. The strange part is that I've seen the mahutes sealing them with mud and sand from the river--that's what the huts are made of originally--and I've tried to investigate but they won't let me near them then. I suppose it'll be quite awhile before we fully understand the organization here."

"What do the ankites and the clobers eat?" Tang asked.

"The same tree shoots that the mahutes eat," Lutscher answered. "The mahutes gather it for them."

"Doesn't that seem strange?" Tang asked. "Do you think there's any possibility that the ankites are in control here? You said the mahutes weren't very intelligent."

"I hadn't thought of that before," Lutscher answered. "But I don't think so. I believe they're simply two primitive species that have found the means of living together in mutual cooperation."

"Just what do the ankites contribute to that cooperation?"

Lutscher shook his head. "You've got me."

"By the way, you were going to show me something that would explain your theory of well-being."

"That's right," Lutscher said, "I was, wasn't I? Well, this is it. Have you noticed that there are young mahutes, and middle-aged ones, but none that are old? I'm convinced that the food here is the source of immortality!"

"That's absurd," Tang said, startled at the other's suggestion. "In the first place, how could you tell how old they are? Perhaps some of those you think are middle-aged are really old, or even ready to die."

"You know better than that," Lutscher answered. "There are always signs of advanced age, such as slow movements, wrinkled skin, or bent figures, that can be read by anyone looking for them. Those signs are not present here. Furthermore, have you seen a dead mahute, or even one that was ill? Or anything that looks like a graveyard?"

"I haven't," Tang answered. "But that would prove nothing. I haven't been here long enough to say that there aren't any because I haven't seen them. Neither have you. And naturally these people would have their own rituals for disposing of their dead. Perhaps the burying is done in secret." Suddenly he stopped walking. "I have it," he said. "The sealed huts! I'll wager that's their burial custom. When one of them dies the others seal his body in his hut."

For the time it took him to draw two deep breaths Lutscher seemed half convinced. Then, "I'm sure you're wrong," he said, but there was an excitement in his voice: The kind of excitement that pleased him. "If you're game let's find out," he urged. "As soon as we get the chance we'll break into one of the sealed huts and see what's there."

IV

The next day Lutscher was missing.

Tang had gone to the space ship for a box of cigars and when he returned he found that Lutscher's hut had been freshly sealed. As he stood, uncertain what his next move should be, one of the mahutes came up and took him by the arm.

He allowed the mahute to lead him to another hut nearby. Inside he found all of Lutscher's possessions and his own. The furniture had been carefully placed in the same positions it had occupied in the original hut. But Lutscher was nowhere in sight.

During the time it took Tang to smoke one cigar he debated with himself. If they were holding Lutscher prisoner he should be in no immediate danger. Each sealed hut had air vents in the top that were never closed. If they had killed him then no amount of haste could help him. On the other hand, he decided, perhaps they were subjecting him to some ritualistic torture. He rose to his feet and buckled on his gun. He'd have to try to get into the sealed hut. If the mahutes hadn't killed Lutscher he might still be able to save him.

Once outside Tang found the mahutes maintaining their guard. He walked toward them and they bunched themselves ahead of him. He drove his shoulder against the nearest one. The native reeled aside but made no effort to strike back. The other mahutes pressed forward, bearing Tang back by the very weight of their numbers. He'd have to use more drastic measures.

He drew his gun but he doubted that they were intelligent enough to recognize it as a weapon. Pointing the gun at the feet of the nearest mahutes he squeezed the grip and held it tight while the lethal ray burned the sand to a bubbling, smoking cauldron. The mahutes stared stupidly at the molten spot, moving back only when the heat scorched their legs.

Tang forced them to either side until he had cleared a path to Lutscher's hut. Taking advantage of their distraction he dashed forward and turned with his back to the hut.

The mahutes did not hesitate. They rushed him in a body.

That left him no choice, Tang realized. He shot the first to reach him in the leg. As the native stumbled and fell, others climbed over his body to get at Tang. He shot a second and a third and still the mahutes came on. He tried to hold them back by playing the gun's beam at their feet but they walked into the beam and fell dead or mutilated. Several of the inevitable accompanying clobers died with them.

Soon the blood and the slaughter of the single-minded natives sickened Tang and he loosened his grip on his weapon. The mahutes grabbed him by the arms and legs and carried him away from the hut, making no attempt to disarm him. They deposited him some yards away and went back to their posts. Other mahutes came up and carried off the dead and wounded. Tang cursed and staggered into his own hut.

For a long while he sat with his head in his hands, lost in a gray obsession. Lutscher had undoubtedly caused the interference of the mahutes by the picture he had given them of Tang being insane. But whatever the reason, as a fellow human, it was his duty to rescue Lutscher, if at all possible. But there was a limit to what lengths he would go to do it. After all, was the life of one criminal worth that of all the mahutes he would have to slaughter, or even of the ones he had already killed? The decision was a hard one.

He heard a noise and looked up. A mahute was standing in the doorway. In his arms the native held one of the little doughball pets. He set the clober on the floor and withdrew.

A peace offering? Tang didn't know, but he decided to wait. Perhaps he would have a better chance to rescue Lutscher later.

What he needed now was some way to communicate with the mahutes. If he only knew Lutscher's secret. For a moment he debated eating the native food. Perhaps that was the necessary first step. But his whole nature shrank from the thought. The risk of making himself an addict was too much to ask--at least until all else failed.

* * * * *

The clober _was_ company. And it seemed to crave affection. It frisked about Tang's feet until he picked it up and held it in his his lap. As he went through his troubled thoughts he idly stroked and fondled the little pet.

Tang set himself on a schedule. Once every hour he walked to the door and looked across to Lutscher's hut. Always the situation remained the same.

Late that night he finally fell asleep. The little clober crawled up on the bed and curled into the crook of his arm.

He awoke twice during the night. Each time, by the light of his flash, he could see the patient mahutes keeping their vigil. And each time he returned to his bed the clober crawled back into its sleeping place in the crook of his elbow. He found himself growing quite fond of the little beast.

The third time Tang awoke he saw, through the slit in the eye he opened, that it was daylight.

_Father?_ For a moment Tang thought he was still dreaming. Had he heard a voice? He lay quietly, his mind still not functioning too clearly.

_Father?_ the voice came again. But was it a voice? Now that he thought of it he was certain that there had been no actual sound. It was more like an audible thought.

A faint inkling of what was happening penetrated his consciousness. He remained quiet, deliberately keeping his mind in its drowsy, slow-functioning sleep fog. And then he caught the call in all its inflections. The sense-impression he caught was not father, exactly; rather it was a compound picture of benefactor, loved one, guardian.

And Tang was certain the mind picture had been communicated to him by the clober at his side. He had made his first telepathic contact with the planet's denizens!

For a half-hour after he arose Tang was unable to reestablish contact with the little doughball. Then he realized that he was trying too hard.

He sat down and forced himself to relax. His mind gradually calmed and made itself receptive. _Food? Hungry?_ the clober's thoughts reached him.

Tang rose and walked to the door. The mahutes had left a small bundle of shoots at the side of the hut, as they had done every morning for Lutscher. He brought several of them in with him.

All during the morning he spent his time perfecting his ability to catch the clober's thoughts. By noon he had it mastered. The little beast's intellect was quite rudimentary, registering its need for food, desire to sleep, for affection, and love for its benefactor, himself.

When it became hungry again at noon Tang tried his next experiment. Lutscher had been able to communicate with the mahutes, and quite probably with Bunzo. He should be able to do the same.

_Food ... hungry_, the clober broadcast. Tang looked at it, and in his mind commanded it to go out the door and get a tree shoot. At the second attempt the little pet turned and obeyed!

So far so good. Now to try his luck with the mahutes.

He went to the door and tried to project his thoughts to the passing natives. He failed. An hour later he came back in, tired and discouraged. His head ached with a dull pain that seemed to be trying to force its way through his skull. He let his body sag across the bed. The clober climbed up and joined him.

Suddenly he had the answer. The natives were never seen without an accompanying clober. And Lutscher had had his Bunzo. They were unable to make direct telepathic contact: It had to be done through the clobers!

He sprang to his feet and went outside, with the clober clutched in his arms. A mahute was passing in the packed-sand street. Directing his thought to the mahute, but through the clober, Tang thought, _Stop_. The mahute stopped!

_Go_, Tang commanded, and the mahute went on. Success.

He made one more test. The next mahute to pass was carrying a load of shoots. _Leave them by my door_, Tang directed. Without hesitation the mahute turned and deposited the shoots.

Next Tang felt for the mahute's thoughts and caught them readily, but they were almost purely functional, bearing little resemblance to the activity of a reasoning intellect. There was no chance of his learning anything of Lutscher's whereabouts there. However he had succeeded in what he set out to do.

Now for the final step. He went inside and buckled on his sidearm.

V

Suddenly the clober squirmed in his arms and a chaos of mad, slobbering, disconnected thoughts washed against Tang's mind and staggered it with their very morbidity and black, hopeless fear.

For a moment he stood mentally numbed, desperately striving to sort the hodgepodge of impressions into a semblance of lucidity.

But they hit him, wave upon wave, as tangible as physical blows, and he fought the nausea they brought as he read them. _I'm dead ... like a spider ... wasps! My God, this can't be happening! The bastards, bastards, bastards. Move. I've got to move! I can't!_ The thoughts ran together like the incoherent mass of a madman's ravings.

Then the mind Tang was hearing seemed to halt, as though it felt a new thing. _Sammy? Sammy? Can you hear me?_

"I hear you!" Tang burst out, speaking aloud, but remembering, distractedly, to keep the clober in the forefront of his mind.

_Then come and kill me. For God's sake, come and kill me!_

Fighting down the shock that threatened to overwhelm him Tang dashed from the hut, still clutching the little clober. They wouldn't stop him this time, he vowed.

A semblance of reason came to him before he reached Lutscher's hut and he halted. There was something he should try, he realized, before he began killing. He looked down at the clober and then sent his message at the mahutes. _Go back to your huts!_ he commanded. They made no move to leave.

Then he understood that he was unable to contact the whole group at one time. It had to be done individually.

_Return to your home_, he directed, concentrating on the nearest mahute. Silently it turned and left. Tang repeated the order to another. Again and again until he was alone.

There was no time to waste. He aimed his pistol to fire at a tangent and blasted a hole through the wall of Lutscher's sealed hut. He crawled in.

The sight that met his eyes was one that Tang knew he would see in his nightmares the rest of his life.

On the ground against the far wall lay the hide of one of the large clobers. He recognized the dark fist-shaped mark on the hide's side as having belonged to Bunzo. Standing on the hide was one of the young stick-insects, its sharp little face ugly with some emotion and its mouth casing drawn back from its pointed teeth.

At Tang's feet lay Lutscher. He was muttering hoarsely to himself, and in his eyes that glared at the ceiling was madness--stark, terrible madness!

The flesh had been torn from Lutscher's left arm, stripping it to the bone. A shiny, gelatinous coating, covering the raw meat of the shoulder, seemed to have stopped the blood flow. Great chunks of flesh had been torn from one hip, and his teeth showed through where Lutscher's cheeks had been.

The ankite insect moved toward them and Tang beamed the ugly little head from its body.

Lutscher muttered something and Tang knelt at his side. God help you, he thought. "Is there anything I can do, Bill?" he asked softly.

"It's too late to help me now," Lutscher rasped feebly. "But there's no pain, Sammy." He seemed rational now, but Tang knew it would not last for long. "Just kill me, Sammy. And get out while you still can."

"What happened?"

"One of the ankites came ... when was it? Yester--yesterday?" Lutscher's whispering voice broke on the last word and he seemed about to slip back into his madness, but he drew a deep breath and went on talking.

"The ankite bit me. It must have injected a poison. I couldn't move. They sealed me in with Bunzo. Soon after Bunzo screamed and burst. You see the set-up now, don't you Sammy? The clobers are like cocoons on Earth. I think metamorphosis is the word. The ankites emerge from the clobers, like butterflies come from cocoons. And the poor, stupid mahutes feed them, care for their clobers, and then furnish the _piece d'occasion_ for the transformation feast." He laughed, and the utter lack of mirth caused a spasm of sickness in Tang's stomach.

"And you ..." Tang started to say.

"And I.... To the ankites I'm just another mahute. I'm like the spider that the wasp paralyzes and brings to its nest to be consumed by the young while it's still alive." Lutscher's voice rose to a shrill whisper. "Sammy! Kill me. Please! I can't take anymore!"

"I'll get you back to the ship," Tang said.

"I'm too far gone for ..." Lutscher stopped. His eyes seemed to try to smile. "Go ahead, Sammy," he said. "Try."

Tang put one arm under Lutscher's shoulders and the other under his knees and lifted him off the ground.

Lutscher's body came unhinged in the middle. A groan started in his throat and blood gushed from the raw places on his body. Tang put him down and Lutscher's mouth opened and a long sigh came out. He knew they would never be able to hurt Lutscher again.

Tang's mind had gone cold now. There was little he could do for Lutscher, but what little he could do, he would. He drew his gun and sprayed its beam up and down the length of Lutscher's body until nothing remained except a charred lump. At least he'd furnish no more meals for the ankites.

On the way back to the space ship Tang met exactly eight of the stick-insects. He counted them.

"One for you, Bill. Two for you, Bill," he counted as he burned each one down. Nothing he had ever done gave him as great a sense of fierce satisfaction.

Less than an hour after he left Lutscher's remains he blasted off the planet. He hated to think of the three months he would have to spend alone before he reached Gascol 11.