Neq the Sword

  wrenched it loose by superior strength. But her hands

  remained busy, striking him on nerves so that the pain

  was excruciating. She had the combat art of the Weapon-

  less, all right!

  Yet muscle and experience counted heavily, and they

  both knew that Neq could subdue her at any time merely

  by striking her hard enough with his claw. She was not

  really trying to defeat him; her intent was to maintain

  physical contact until her sexuality became irresistible.

  But they had left the vine behind. The air was clear,

  here, and so was his head. Neq saw no more visions, and

  reacted nomally. He had won.

  Realizing this, Vara stopped abruptly. "So it didn't

  work," she said, as though she had merely stubbed her

  toe. "But I tried, didn't I?"

  "Yes." How was it possible to comprehend her thought

  processes!

  "So now it's real."

  "Yes." He started to get up.

  She was crying, with real tears. "You monster! You

  denied me my love, you denied me my vengeance, you

  even denied me my rationale. Are you going to deny me

  my humiliation too?"

  Hers no more than his! "Yes."

  She flung herself on him again, kissing him with her

  teary face, bearing him back against the brush. There

  was blood on her body where the branches Imd thorns

  had scraped her. "I call you by your name! Neq. Neq the

  Sword! No artifice between us. No deceit."

  "No humiliation!" he said.

  "No humiliation! Do you take me now as a woman—or

  do I take you as a man? It shall bel"

  It had been a long time, she was highly desirable, and

  there were limits. Neq sighed. He, too, had tried. "It shall

  be."

  They made love quickly, she doing more than he be-

  cause he could not use his hands.

  "I never completed the act with her," he said, both

  satisfied and bitter. "She was afraid. . . ."

  "I know," Vara said. "As were you." Then: "Now we

  have done it. Now there is no onus. Stay if you wish."

  "It is only sex. I do not want to love you."

  "You have loved me for a month," she said. "As I have

  you. Stay."

  Neq stayed. It was the first time he had completed the

  act with any woman, and she must have known that too,

  but she did not show it. Gradually they explored each

  other, letting down the physical and emotional barriers.

  They did not talk; it was no longer necessary.

  The second time it was much better. Vara showed him

  some of what she knew, and she seemed to be as experi-

  enced in this respect as he was in battle. But mostly it

  was love, unfettered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The trip was done. The three reported to Dr. Jones at the

  crazy building. Tyi, the tacit leader, did the talking, sum-

  marizing Neq's search for missing people, Tyi's own trek

  with Neq, their encounter with Var and Vara, and their

  journey back—except for the dialogue and romance.

  "Neq has renounced bis sword," Tyi concluded. "He

  wears the glockenspiel now. Yet he retains the capacity

  for leadership."

  Dr. Jones nodded as though something significant had

  been said. "The others will no doubt take the matter under

  advisement."

  Tyi and the crazy leader went to round up the "others."

  Neq and Vara took the vine outside where there was more

  light. They settled under a spreading tree.

  "Tyi will be master of Helicon," Vara said. "See how

  close he is to the crazies."

  Neq agreed. "He brings people together."

  "You and I came together inevitably," she said with

  feminine certainty. "Helicon was your idea. You should

  be master."

  "With this?" He uncovered the glockenspiel.

  "You could change it back. The sword is still there,

  underneath."

  It was too complicated to explain that he never had

  been considered for the Helicon office. "If'"! wore the

  sword again, you would have to kill me."

  She frowned, surprised. "I suppose I would."

  A little boy about four years old wandered by, spotting

  them. "Who are you?" he asked boldly.

  "Neq the Glockenspiel."

  "Vara the Stick."

  "I'm Jimi. You have funny hands."

  "They are metal hands," Neq said, surprised that the

  boy had not been frightened. "To make music."

  "My daddy Jim has metal guns. They make bangs."

  "Music is better."

  "It is not!"

  "Listen." And Neq lifted the glockenspiel, took the

  little hammer in his pincers, and began to play. Then he

  sang:

  A fanner one day was a traveling to town

  Hey! Boom-fa-le-la,

  sing fa-le-la,

  boom fa-le-la lay!

  Saw a crow in a & tree way up in the crown

  Hey! Boom fa-le-la,

  sing fa-le-la,

  boom fa-le-la lay!

  "What's a town?" the boy inquired, impressed.

  "A nomad camp with crazy buildings."

  "I know what a boom falela is! A gun."

  Vara laughed. "I want one like him," she murmured.

  "Find Jim the Gun, then."

  "After this one," she said, patting her abdomen.

  Neq, startled, sang another verse for the boy.

  Then the gun from his shoulder

  he quickly brought down . . .

  And he shot that black crow

  and it fell to the ground ...

  "I told you guns were better!"

  The feathers were made

  into featherbeds neat...

  And pitchforks were made

  from the legs and the feet...

  "How big was that crow?" Jimi inquired, fascinated.

  Neq struck a loud- note. "About that size."

  "Oh," the boy said, satisfied. "What's that thing?"

  "A flower vine."

  "It is not!"

  "The flowers only open in the dark. Then they smell

  funny, and people do funny things."

  "Like crows with pitchforks?"

  Vara laughed again. "Just about," she said.

  Tyi emerged from the building. "They're ready."

  Vara picked up the vine-pot and they went inside. Jimi

  followed. "He has funny hands," he informed Tyi. "But

  he's fun."

  They were all there: the group of odd-named oldsters

  he had rounded up, along with Dick the Surgeon, and

  Sola, and several more he did not know. Apparently Dr.

  Jones had located more of the people on the list during

  Neq's absence. Some were nomads, male and female. Jimi

  went to one of these, evidently Jim the Gun.

  Vara, poised until this moment, took Neq's covered

  arm. "Who's that?" she whispered, nodding specifically.

  "Sola," he replied before realizing the significance of

  her identity. The woman had recovered more than a sug-

  gestion of her former splendor.

  Vara clutched his arm as though terrified. It was en-

  tirely uncharacteristic of her.

  Tyi stepped in and performed the introduction. "Sola

  ... Vara. You have known each other."

  Sola did not make the connection, for she had not

  known of Var's marriage. But
the others saw the resem-

  blance as the two women stood together. "Mother and

  daughter ..." Dick said.

  "Widows, both," Tyi said. The words seemed cruel, but

  they were not, for this clarified a prime source of concern

  and confusion at once. No further questions about that

  matter would be asked. That meant in turn that the more

  devious and less honorable relationships would not be

  exposed.

  Yet it was awkward. Sola and Vara had parted perhaps

  thirteen years ago, when Vara was hardly more than a

  baby. What was there to say?

  Once more Tyi interceded. "You both knew Var well.

  And Sol. And the Weaponless. As I did. Soon we must

  talk together of great men."

  "Yes," Sola said, and Vara agreed.

  "In your absence," Dr. Jones said to Neq, "we located a

  few more volunteers, as you see. We have screened them

  as well as we could, and believe they represent a viable

  unit. Provided suitable leadership develops."

  "There are leaders here," Neq said. Did the cra2y want

  him to affirm his support for the leader already chosen?

  "The destruction of the prior Helicon suggests that its

  leadership was inadequate," Dr. Jones said. "We have

  been obliged to make certain restrictions."

  Neq pondered that. Apparently he was being asked not

  only to support, but to nominate the leader! "You won't

  work with just anybody. But you can work with Tyi—"

  "I return shortly to my tribe," Tyi said. "My job is done.

  I am not of this group. I would not leave the nomad

  culture or take my family under the mountain."

  Neq was amazed. So Tyi, too, had been merely sup-

  porting the effort, not directing it!

  "I know of Jim the Gun," Neq said. "He armed the

  empire for the assault on—"

  "I made a mistake!" Jim broke in. "I shall not make

  another. I know better than to command what I once

  destroyed."

  Apparently Dr. Jones had not set things up so neatly

  after all! "What are your requirements?" Neq asked the

  crazy. "Literacy? Helicon experience? What?"

  "We would have preferred such things," Dr. Jones ad-

  mitted. "We would have liked very much to have found

  the Weaponless. But other qualities are more important

  now, and we must work with what we have."

  "Why not Neq?" Vara asked.

  Neq laughed uncomfortably. "My leadership has become

  a song. I shall not kill again."

  "That is one of our requirements," Dr. Jones said.

  "There has been too much shedding of blood."

  "Then you require the impossible," Neq said grimly.

  "Helicon was built on blood."

  "But it shall not be rebuilt on blood!" Dr. Jones ex-

  claimed with unseemly vehemence for one of his char-

  acter. "History has clarified the folly of violence and

  deceit."

  Many of the people in the room were nodding agree-

  ment. But Neq thought of the way the outlaws would have

  to be tamed, and knew the dream of nonviolent civiliza-

  tion was untenable.

  "Neq the Sword," Sola said after a pause. "We know

  your history. We do not condemn you. You say you shall

  not kill again. How can we believe you, when your whole

  way of life has been based on vengeance by the sword?"

  Neq shrugged. He saw already that no man who could

  give the absolute assurance of pacifism they demanded

  could be an effective leader of Helicon. He could not kill

  by his own arm, but he had agreed to the indirect slaughter

  of the flower vine during the trek here. His stance against

  killing had been hypocritical.

  'Take him as your leader!" Vara exclaimed. "All of you

  are here because of him!"

  "Yes," one thin old crazy agreed. 'This man lifted an

  outlaw siege against my post, and took a message for me

  that brought rescue. I trust him, whatever else he has

  done."

  Jim the Gun spoke. He was a little old nomad with

  curly yellow hair. "We do not question Neq's capacity. We

  question his judgment under pressure. I myself was ready

  to shoot somebody when I learned how my brother had

  died in Helicon—but I did not. A man who would go

  berserk for weeks at a time, whatever the provocation—"

  "I like him," Jimi said. "He has music hands."

  Startled, Jim looked at his son. "That man is Neq the

  Sword!"

  "He says music is better'n guns. But I like him."

  "We share your vision," Sola said to Neq. "But we must

  have a leader of inflexible temperament. A man like the

  Weaponless."

  "The Weaponless destroyed Helicon!" Vara flared. "Can

  anybody even count how many men died because of him?

  Yet you say no killing, and you want—"

  Sola looked at her sadly. "He was your father."

  "That's why he did it! He thought I was dead. You talk

  about a few weeks berserk—He planned it for years, then

  he followed Var for years. Nothing had happened to me

  And you—you sent Var to kill the man who might harm

  me, when no one had. Who are you to judge? But Neq

  saw his wife—Dr. Jones' own secretary, a beautiful and

  literate woman—Neq saw her raped by fifty men, and

  then they cut off his hands and dumped him in the forest

  with her corpse. He should have died then—but he brought

  "that tribe to justice. Now he wants to stop all outlaws by

  rebuilding Helicon. And you hypocrites quibble about

  the past!"

  "Where is Var the Stick?" Sola asked quietly.

  Vara couldn't answer.

  "I slew him," Neq said.

  Their faces told the story. Many of these people had

  known Var, and more had heard of him. They were hardly

  ready to accept his killer as their leader. And why should

  they?

  "It was an accident," Tyi said. "Neq thought Var had

  killed Soli in her childhood, as we all thought. He reacted

  as we all did. Before he learned the truth, Var was dead.

  Because of that error, Neq put aside the sword. Now I

  speak for his sincerity—and so does Vara."

  "So we noticed," Jim said, in a tone that made Vara

  flush furiously.

  Jimi was looking at the vine.

  "Show your weapons," Tyi said to Neq.

  Neq unveiled the glockenspiel. There was a murmur of

  amazement, for none of them had seen it before.

  "Use it," Tyi said.

  Neq looked about. The faces were grim and sad—grim

  for him, sad for Vara, who was crying without shame.

  These people evidently shared his vision of a new Helicon,

  but the example of the prior one frightened them. It

  frightened him too, for he had seen it in ruins.

  Perhaps Helicon could not function without bloodshed,

  direct or indirect. Perhaps there was no way to restore

  the old society. But it had to be tried, and now was the

  time, and this was the group. He could not let it all slide

  away just because of the confused scruples of the moment.

  They needed a leader. If he did not assume command,

  no one would. He was far from ideal, but there
was no

  one else.

  Neq turned to Dr. Jones. "You asked me to find out

  why Helicon perished, so that we could prevent it from

  happening again. How did- the leadership fail? I do not

  know. Perhaps it will fail again. Perhaps Helicon is

  doomed. But this is a risk that must be taken."

  Dr. Jones did not respond.

  Neq looked for his little hammer, but couldn't find it.

  So he tapped out a melody slowly with the pincers, touch-

  ing the glockenspiel lightly so as to avoid the unpleasant

  metallic effect. Then he sang.

  If I had a hammer,

  I'd hammer in the morning.

  I'd hammer in the evening

  all over this land.

  I'd hammer out danger,

  I'd hammer out warning!

  As he sang, he looked first at one person, then another.

  The song had special meaning for him, as every song did,

  and while the melody was venting itself through his lung

  and mouth and instrument he believed it. Its pre-Blast

  originators could not have honored its precepts—but he

  was hammering out warning.

  ,It was as though he were meeting each man in the

  circle and conquering him with his syncopation. And