CHAPTER V

"Will Harry Starbuck please step forth and make his report?" One of Keleher's assistants brought the command to the Shining Ones who had joined the larger group near Hamilton Village.

There was a silence.

"Where is Starbuck?"

No one knew. The assistant shook his head and returned to Keleher for further instructions. Had anyone seen Starbuck? A short while ago, yes. Not for the past hour, though. Keleher next called for Diane, who had found Johnny Hope, the alleged traitor, along with Starbuck.

Some of them had seen her marching toward the rear of the column with Tom Burwood not long since. She did not answer the summons. And Burwood could not be found anywhere.

"Is everyone going crazy?" Keleher stormed. "Fetch the prisoner himself. We'll see what's going on."

Moments later: "Hope, charges have been brought against you concerning our raid on Hamilton Village."

"I know all about the charges. I refuse to discuss them now."

Keleher smiled without mirth. "You--refuse?"

"They were looking for Diane. They couldn't find her. They were looking for Starbuck too, and couldn't find him. It is Starbuck who has made the accusation, so we'll have to wait until he's found. I don't care one way or the other about Starbuck, but I want to find Diane."

Plump Gilbert came forward, said, "I may be able to shed some light on this. After Starbuck gave me charge of the column he conferred with Tom Burwood for a time, then disappeared. But Burwood whispered something to Diane and she joined him, heading for the rear of the column."

"You see?" Johnny demanded. "Starbuck went someplace with Diane. From the looks of it, she was tricked into going with him."

"Mere supposition," said Keleher, "although I wouldn't trust Starbuck particularly."

"Listen," Johnny went on, "that girl saved my life. I want to find her. Since you can't try my case until Starbuck is found, let me look for them and--"

"How do we know you will return?"

"My word," said Johnny, but the look on Keleher's face said that would never satisfy him.

"If the lad promises and if meanwhile he cannot be tried ..." began Gilbert.

"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it," Keleher said curtly. "The boy stays here."

"But he merely wants to find Diane," persisted Gilbert.

"Enough. If someone thinks to depose me, let him try. Meanwhile, I command here. The boy stays. He will be considered innocent until we can bring him to trial, but he will not be permitted to leave the encampment."

"Her life may be in danger," Johnny said grimly.

"I doubt it. I have given my orders."

"They don't satisfy me," Johnny told Keleher bluntly. "Am I to be regarded as prisoner or member of the community until my trial?"

"You are one of us, a Shining One, until proven guilty. It is the way of our law."

"In that case," Johnny informed him, "I challenge your right to rule. _I_ would depose you." Even as he spoke the words, Johnny doubted their wisdom. Keleher was large and powerful; Johnny had recently recovered from the Plague and did not feel fully himself. Still, he had to find Diane, and if there was no other way....

Keleher was grinning. "Perhaps you do not know what that entails. I'll admit, it's primitive. Upon your challenge we fight. Not with weapons, Johnny Hope. With our bare hands. Call it a peculiarity of mine, but I prefer brute strength. It is as if civilization, in closing its book for mankind, has put men like me in its stead. The ballot, the tribunal, the town meeting--all these are sophistications leading ultimately back along the road to civilization. If that means another war and a worse one, I want no part of it. Small communities, living by mean strength, fighting for their existence tooth and nail, can't start a civilization growing.

"The level I want to maintain is physical, brutal, elemental. Knowing that, do you still challenge my right?" Keleher folded huge-muscled arms across his massive chest and stared with scorn at Johnny. "Well?"

"I was aware of that. The answer is yes."

"Then we can start making arrangements for the time and place. Would you prefer it on our journey before we reach a new permanent encampment, or after we have arrived to set up camp? You still look pale from your time with the Plague, my young friend."

"I prefer it right here," Johnny said. "I can't wait. Right here, and right now."

The sudden complete silence was broken by Keleher's explosive laughter as he unbuckled his weapon-belt and let it fall with knife and club to the ground.

* * * * *

"What do you think, Diane?"

"Don't speak to me. I think it was a dirty trick, but I should have expected it from you. And you let Tom Burwood die, too."

"I couldn't do anything about that," Starbuck protested. "I tried. By the time I got through to them, Burwood was already dead. As it is, I saved your life."

"For this?" Diane gestured around her scornfully, to take in the tiny cubicle aboard the rocket which they occupied. After depositing them within it ten minutes before, the Robots had ignored them.

"I'm surprised at you. Have some patience, Diane. Someday you'll be grateful I took you along. You're young, you have no idea what life could be like in a civilized place."

"Do you? How do you know how the Robots treat people?"

"I have heard rumors. We all have. But I'm older than I look. I was a small boy before the war, Diane. But I remember, I remember. The luxuries, the comforts. You'll see."

"I ought to kill you," Diane said coldly. Starbuck blanched. "I might, too, first chance I get. You're so self-centered, you're almost inhuman. But maybe I'm dumb enough to think you'll realize your mistake someday and two of us will have a better chance of getting away than one. I don't know. I ought to kill you, though."

"I did it for you. I wanted you with me. I couldn't enjoy the life we're going to lead without you."

"You're a fool, Harry ... I can't even hate you. I feel sorry for you. What do the Robots do from day to day? You don't even know that. You haven't the slightest idea what you've let us in for. You don't even know for sure where we're going."

Starbuck shook his head. "You're wrong about that. We're going to the Citadel in New York. We should be arriving in a few minutes. You'll change your mind, Diane. Wait until you see the Citadel. Wait until--"

"You've never seen it. You're just guessing."

"It's more than a guess. Every rumor I have ever heard. Diane, I want you to share it with me, to learn to love it with me. You're beautiful. You weren't meant for buckskins," Starbuck fingered the tattered clothing barely covering her torso.

"Keep away from me."

"Don't you realize it's just the two of us now--and the Robots?"

"I'm warning you."

Starbuck shrugged and sat down at the other side of the small cubicle. "You're frightened now," he said. "I've got patience, if you haven't. Wait and see how the Robots will provide for us."

Diane shuddered and tried to hide it. Trapped aboard a ship full of Robots, she was companion to a madman. Strangely, no thought could comfort her but the image of Johnny Hope, somewhere many miles behind them, a prisoner of Keleher and the band of Shining Ones. Perhaps, she thought grimly, the madman had for company a madwoman....

* * * * *

The Shining Ones were bivouacing not two miles above the gutted ruins of Hamilton Village. Wood had been stacked for the cook-fires, but as yet no spark had been coaxed into flame. Half the tents had been raised tautly about their ridge poles, others were still to be unpacked. Five-hundred strong, the whole group gathered around a natural clearing in the woods, where deft-fingered girls were applying grease to Keleher and Johnny Hope.

They had stripped to shorts, Keleher with his thick-thewed limbs glistening in the fading sunlight, arms folded like some immobile, heroic statue, all muscle and sinew, carved from granite, Johnny fidgeting, waiting for the fight to start. He was surprised at his own objective lack of fear; he wanted only to start out after Diane.

"You probably wonder why they grease you," Amos Westler declared. Westler was a small, slim man with close-cropped graying hair and eyes that would twinkle, Johnny thought, even in darkness. He had come to Johnny's corner as a sort of unexpected second, to ready him for battle. "It's a concession on the part of Keleher, Johnny Hope. He has declared openly your strength is no match for his. The slicking will make speed and dexterity count for more."

"Am I supposed to be grateful? The only reason I'm fighting him is because he won't let me seek Diane any other way. She could be in danger right now, her life might be at stake. Keleher is a fool."

"And life among the Shining Ones has always been an expendable item. Diane's life, your life, even Keleher's."

"What happens if I win?"

Westler sighed wistfully. "You won't. This won't be the first fight for Keleher, nor the last. Actually, I hope you do win."

"Why? And you haven't answered my question."

"Because I've always wanted to leave the encampment. But I'm not a man for the outdoors, Johnny. I wouldn't survive a week. With your companionship, I might. Should you win the fight, and should you decide to seek Diane, I would like to join you."

Johnny grasped his hand, shook it. "Done," he said.

Westler smiled, wiping grease on his trousers. "To answer your question, if you win you're the chief of this encampment."

Now Johnny was smiling. "A job I'm not particularly interested in. I only want to--"

"I know. Look for the girl. During the excitement, something went entirely unnoticed. A rocket ship took off, near the ruins of the Village. Rockets mean Robots--and from the Citadel. Tell me, Johnny Hope, if the trail leads there, will you follow?"

Johnny shrugged. "I hadn't thought of that, I didn't realize the Robots were near."

"Then you're going to back down?" Disappointment was in Westler's expressive eyes.

"Never. I saw New York once. I stood on the Jersey cliffs at sunset and gazed across the broad river at the Citadel with its winking lights and beacons. It is not a place of fear, but a place that men built, long ago. I will go."

Again Amos Westler sighed. "I wish you win this fight, Johnny Hope. I never wished for anything as much in my life. I was a college professor before the war and I learned this: the search for knowledge is a strange thing and knows no fear. But I am no young man, and this may be my last opportunity."

"Ready?" Keleher's voice roared across the clearing. "If the girls are finished caressing you with their oils...?"

* * * * *

The girls stepped back, looked at Johnny, tall and lithe but so small compared to Keleher, and shook their heads.

"Ready," Johnny said, moving out toward Keleher warily.

"His legs," Amos Westler confided. "He uses them like another pair of arms. Watch them."

The grease on his face had been applied too close to his eyes and Johnny found he had to blink to clear his vision. Keleher came lumbering across the clearing, gathering momentum. By the time he neared Johnny he was fairly rocketing down upon him. The muttering of the assembled encampment had been stilled as if by some unspoken command. There was the sound of Keleher's thundering feet and nothing else.

Juggernaut thundered close, was almost upon him, great arms outstretched, huge body shining red in the last light of the sun. At the last moment, Johnny sidestepped, thrust out his leg, added momentum to Keleher with his arms as he pounded by. Something struck his leg, there was a loud, bull-bellowing cry. Keleher flipped completely over and sprawled in the dust a dozen feet away.

He came up roaring his rage as Johnny waited, balancing on the balls of his feet, fists up and ready. Keleher parried Johnny's left hand when the blow was too long in coming, struck with his own great right fist. Johnny went over on his back and felt Keleher at his throat almost before he had hit the ground. Now the crowd was churning with excitement and Johnny found himself thinking they must have smelled blood on the air.

Their heavily greased bodies prevented Keleher from applying a stranglehold. Johnny squirmed out from under, straddled the bigger man's back and felt himself borne aloft, still clinging there, as Keleher climbed to his feet and charged about the clearing. Johnny held grimly, his forearm circling the thick throat, choking off Keleher's breath. But the shaggy head twisted, broke free. The legs drummed backwards and Johnny whirled in time to fathom Keleher's plan.

He was going to crush Johnny against the bole of an oak tree, cracking his ribs and ending the battle at once. Without mirth, Johnny smiled. So intent was Keleher upon his plan, he did not bother to hold Johnny on his back. Possibly he thought that was Johnny's intention, anyway. Johnny leaped away, rolling clear, as Keleher backed into the tree trunk with all the strength of his huge muscles.

There was a terrible crunching sound as Keleher hit the tree and went down as if axed. Groggily, he began to rise, but Johnny was waiting for him, waiting to see if there was any fight left in the half-conscious man. The eyes were watery, the lips slack, the arms twitching. Johnny waited....

"Stop!" someone cried. "I bring news."

At first the encampment shouted him off, but presently Johnny became aware of loud talking, of angry shouts, of a buzzing, as from a sundered hornets' nest, which swept the clearing. He whirled to face the newcomer as Keleher slumped at his feet, clawing the ground and gasping, "I don't ... surrender ... Johnny Hope. Only give ... me ... time to catch my wind ... and...."

* * * * *

They turned to Johnny Hope, all of them, their new leader. For Keleher had spoken those words, then fell forward on his face. Three men carried him off to a tent, where two women brought vessels of water.

"They went looking for the three missing ones, Hope."

"What can we do?"

"The Robots."

"Tell us, Hope."

"What they did once they might do again."

Johnny laughed as reaction from his ordeal set in. They crowded around him, flies swarming for honey. They hadn't given him a chance in the fight, but now because Keleher had cracked his own ribs instead of Johnny's, Johnny was their leader. It was a job he neither wanted nor would tolerate.

"What they're trying to say," Amos Westler told him, "is that they found Tom Burwood not far from here."

"What about Diane?" Johnny demanded eagerly.

"No Diane, no Starbuck. They found Burwood, hanging by his neck, dead."

"Dead?" Johnny said, dazed. "Diane?"

"You're not listening to me, young man. Diane they didn't find." Then, as if he suddenly realized he was addressing their new, if bewildered, leader, Westler apologized. "I'm sorry. While Burwood's corpse was the only one they found, there were shreds of clothing in the undergrowth. There--"

"Diane?"

"Possibly, they're not sure. I would say all indications point to the Robot Citadel. You said you would go, but now that you are our leader, perhaps you've changed your mind. When leadership is thrust upon a man--"

"When an old leader is vanquished," plump Gilbert bubbled effusively, "there is a celebration, sir. And there is an edict to be handed down by the new leader. Do we banish Keleher from the encampment when his condition permits? Do we slay him for you? Do we--"

"Do whatever you want," Johnny said irritably. "I'm not staying."

"This is some joke!"

"I have nothing against Keleher. I still have nothing against him. I'm leaving. When Keleher regains consciousness, when his body heals, you may tell him for me I did not depose him. He is still your leader."

"That is clearly impossible."

"Is it? I command you in this. Keleher remains on as chief. But tell him this for me: some day I may call upon him and his people for help, and when I do...."

"You have vision," said Amos Westler, admiration in his voice.

"When I do, I want no delays. That is my message to your ruler, to Keleher. Is it understood?"

Gilbert and some of the others nodded. A small, intense man, Westler fidgeted about impatiently while the girls returned with thick strips of cloth and scrubbed the grease from Johnny Hope.

"I'm now a celebrity," he said to Westler, feeling himself briefly as one with these wild people as they gathered around for his advice, preparing a victory banquet over roaring fires as darkness covered the bivouac area. He munched a savory leg of fowl, slaked his thirst from a moist leather wine bag, the claret stream gushing into his mouth from the spout.

"You see," Westler could not hide his disappointment. "It is even as I said. You will stay."

Johnny grinned at him. "Are you tired?"

"Why, no."

Tossing a chicken bone into the fire, Johnny went on: "And do you know the way to New York in the darkness?"

"No--o."

"I think I do. Are you ready to start?"

"Are you serious?" Westler cried. "Do you mean that, Johnny Hope?"

"Let's go." And not waiting for an answer, Johnny clapped Gilbert on the back, told him to take charge until Keleher had recovered, and left the clearing with Westler trailing at his heels.

The night closed in about them, not quiet, but alive with the sounds of insects and the occasional soft-pad-padding of small hunting animals. Johnny set a quick, mile-eating pace which made Westler's breath wheeze in and out of his lungs asthmatically, but the older man did not complain once.