Kazz had shaken his thickly boned head. “I was with them several times when you were not in sight. But I don’t remember nothing strange about them. That is, Burton-naq, there was nothing stranger than strange. Everything was strange that day.”
“Did you notice the marks on people’s foreheads that day?”
“Yes, a few. That was when the sun was highest.”
“What about Monat and Frigate?”
“I don’t remember seeing any on theirs that day. But then I don’t remember seeing one on you, either. The light had to reflect at a certain angle.”
Burton had taken out of his shoulderbag a pad of bamboo paper, a sharply pointed fish bone, and a wooden bottle of ink. He took over the wheel while Kazz drew the marks he saw on the foreheads of the Arcturan and the American. Both were three parallel horizontal lines crossed by three parallel vertical lines juxtaposed to a cross enclosed in a circle. The lines were of even thickness and length except at the ends. Monat’s lines broadened at the right; Frigate’s at the left.
“What about the sign on my forehead?” Burton had said.
Kazz showed him four wavy parallel horizontal lines next to a symbol like an ampersand (&). Below it was a short, thin, straight horizontal line.
“Monat’s and Pete’s are remarkably alike,” Burton said.
At Burton’s request, Kazz then drew the symbols on the foreheads of everyone of the crew. Not one resembled any other.
“Do you remember Lev Ruach’s?”
Kazz nodded, and a moment later he handed Burton the drawing. He felt disappointed, though he had no conscious reason to be so. Ruach’s symbol was not at all like his prime suspects’.
Now, walking on the deck, Burton wondered why he had expected it to be similar to the other two. Something tickled the back of his brain, some suspicion he could not scratch. There was a linkage among the three, but it slipped away just as he was about to grasp it.
He had done enough thinking. Now for action.
A white bundle lying against the cabin was the Neanderthal, wrapped in cloths. Guiding himself by the fellow’s snoring, Burton went to him and shook him. Kazz, snorting, woke up at once.
“Time?”
“Time.”
First, though, Kazz had to piss over the railing. Burton lit a fish-oil lantern, and they walked down the gangplank onto the dock. From there they moved slowly onto the plain, their destination an empty hut about two hundred paces away. They missed it, but after circling around, they found it. After they had entered, Burton shut the door. A bundle of logs and shavings had been placed in the stone hearth that evening by Kazz. In a minute, a small fire was blazing. Kazz sat down on a bamboo wickerwork chair near the fire. He coughed as he breathed smoke which had escaped the feeble draught of the chimney.
It was easy to place Kazz into a hypnotic trance. He had been one of Burton’s subjects for years when Burton entertained locals by displaying his powers as a mesmerist.
Now that Burton thought about it, Monat and Frigate had always been present at these times. Had they been nervous then? If they had, they had successfully concealed it.
Burton took Kazz straight back to the time when he had mentioned to the breakfasting group that Spruce had no mark. Working forward, he took him then to the point where the Neanderthal had gone into Monat’s hut. Here he encountered first resistance.
“Are you now in the hut?”
Kazz, staring straight ahead, his eyes seemingly turned inward upon the past, said, “I am in the doorway.”
“Go on in, Kazz.”
The fellow shook with effort.
“I can’t, Burton-naq.”
“Why not?”
“I do not know.”
“Is there something you fear in the hut?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has anyone told you that there is something bad in the hut?”
“No.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. Kazz, you are a brave man, aren’t you?”
“You know I am, Burton-naq.”
“Why can’t you go on in then?”
Kazz shook his head. “I don’t know. Something…”
“Something what?”
“Something… tells me… tells me… can’t remember.”
Burton bit his lower lip. The flaming wood cracked and hissed.
“Who tells you? Monat? Frigate?”
“Don’t know.”
“Think!”
Kazz’s forehead wrinkled. Sweat poured down it.
The firewood crackled again. Hearing it, Burton smiled.
“Kazz!”
“Yes.”
“Kazz! Besst is in the hut, and she’s screaming! Can you hear her screaming?”
Kazz straightened up and looked from side to side, his eyes wide open, his nostrils distended, his lips drawn back.
“I hear her! What is the matter?”
“Kazz! There’s a bear in the hut, and it’s going to attack Besst! Take your spear and go in there and kill the bear, Kazz! Save Besst!”
Kazz stood up, and, his hand grasping the imaginary spear, sprang forward. Burton had to move swiftly to get out of his way. Kazz stumbled over the chair and fell upon his face.
Burton grimaced. Would the shock bring Kazz out of his trance? No, Kazz was up on his feet and about to run forward again.
“Kazz! You’re in the hut! There’s the bear! Kill it, Kazz! Kill it!”
Snarling, Kazz grabbed the phantom spear with both hands and thrust it.
“Ayee! Ayee!” And a gabble of harsh sounds followed. Burton, having learned his native language, understood them.
“I am Man-Who-Slew-The-White-Tooth! Die, Hairy-One-Who-Sleeps-All-Winter! Die, but forgive me! I must, I must! Die! Die!”
Burton spoke loudly. “Kazz! It’s run away! The bear has run out of the hut! Besst is safe now!”
Kazz stopped thrusting the spear. He stood upright now, looking from side to side.
“Kazz! It’s a few minutes later. Kazz! Besst has left. You’re in the hut now! Inside it. You’ve nothing to fear! You’ve entered the hut, and there is nothing to be afraid of! But who else is in there with you?
“Kazz! You’re in the hut a few minutes after you saw that Spruce had no mark on his forehead. Who else is in the hut with you?”
The Neanderthal had lost his fierce expression. Now he looked dully at Burton.
“Who? Why, Monat and Pete.”
“Very good, Kazz. Now… who first spoke to you there?”
“Monat did.”
“Tell me what he said to you. Tell me what Frigate said, too.”
“Frigate never said anything. Just Monat.”
“Tell me what he said… what he is saying.”
“Monat says, ‘Now, Kazz, you will remember nothing that took place in this hut. We will talk a minute and then we will leave. After you leave you will not remember going into the hut or leaving it. Everything between that time will be a blank. If anyone should ask you about this time, you will say that you don’t remember. And you will not be lying because you will have forgotten everything. Isn’t that right, Kazz?’”
The Neanderthal nodded.
“‘Also, Kazz, just to make sure, you will not remember the first time I told you to forget that you had mentioned to me and Frigate that we had no marks. Do you remember that time, Kazz?’”
Kazz shook his head. “‘No, Monat.’”
He gave a drawn-out sigh.
“Who sighed?” Burton said.
“Frigate.”
It was evidently an expiration of relief.
“What else is Monat saying? Tell me what you are saying, too.”
“‘Kazz, when I talked to you that first time, the time just after you had told Frigate and me that we had no signs, I also told you to tell me whatever Burton said about meeting a mysterious person. By that I mean someone who might call himself an Ethical.’”
Burton said, “Aah!”
“‘Do you remember that,
Kazz?’
“‘No.’
“‘Of course not. I told you not to remember that. But I now tell you to remember it. Do you remember it, Kazz?’”
A silence of about twenty seconds followed. Then the Neanderthal said, “‘Yes, I remember now.’
“‘Very good, Kazz. Now, forget it again, though what I told you then still is a command. Isn’t that right?’
“‘Yes, that’s right.’
“‘Now, Kazz. Has Burton ever said anything to you about this Ethical? Or about anyone, man or woman, who claimed to be one of those who brought us back from the dead?’
“‘No, Burton-naq never told me anything like that.’
“‘But if, in the future, he does tell you, you will come to me at once and tell me. You will only do this, however, when no one else is around. Where no one can overhear us. Do you understand that?’
“‘Yes, I understand.’
“‘If for some reason I am not available, if you cannot get hold of me because I am dead or gone on a journey, you will tell Peter Frigate or Lev Ruach, instead of me. Do you understand?’”
Burton said, in a low voice, “Ruach, too!”
“‘Yes, I understand. I will tell Peter Frigate or Lev Ruach instead of you.’
“‘And you will tell them only when no one is around, where no one else can overhear you two. Understand?’
“‘Yes, I understand.’
“‘And you will not tell anyone else about this, you will only tell Frigate, Ruach, or myself. Understand?’
“‘Yes, I understand.’
“‘Very good, Kazz. That’s fine. We will go now, and when I snap my fingers twice, you will not remember this or the first time. Understand?’
“‘Yes, I understand.’
“‘Kazz, you will also… oh, oh! Someone’s calling for us! No time for an excuse now. Let’s go!’”
Burton had to guess what this last remark meant. Monat must have been about to tell Kazz what he should say if anyone asked him what the conversation had been about. That was a lucky break for Burton. If Kazz had had a reasonable story, then Burton would never have become suspicious.
Burton said, “Sit down, Kazz. Make yourself comfortable. You sit there for a minute. I’m leaving. Monat will be coming in, and he will talk to you.”
“I understand.”
Burton walked out of the hut and stood for a minute. He should have posed as Monat when he first started the session. That might have overcome Kazz’s resistance more quickly, and Burton would not have had to resort to the trickery of the bear and Besst.
He reentered, and said, “Hello, Kazz. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Monat. How are you?”
“Great! Very well, Kazz. I’ll take over from where your friend, Burton, left off. We’ll go back to that first time I talked to you, just after you had noticed that Frigate and I had no marks on our foreheads. You now remember that time, Kazz, because I, Monat, tell you to do so.
“You will go back to the second after you had told Monat. Are you there?
“Where are you, Monat, and Frigate?”
“We are near a grailstone.”
“What day, or night, is that?”
“I do not understand.”
“I mean, how many days was it after Resurrection Day?”
“Three days.”
“Tell me what happened after you spoke to them about the lack of the mark.”
Kazz, speaking in a monotone, described the events immediately after. Monat had said that he and Frigate wanted to speak to him privately. They had walked across the plain and gone into the hills. There, behind a giant irontree, Monat had fixed his eyes upon Kazz’s. Without the use of any mechanical devices, without even informing Kazz what he was doing, Monat had hypnotized him.
“It was as if something dark flowed from him to me, something dark and overpowering.”
Burton nodded. He had seen Monat demonstrate this power, this “animal magnetism” as it was known in Burton’s time. He was a stronger mesmerist than Burton, which was one reason why Burton had never permitted the Arcturan to attempt hypnotizing him. In fact, Burton had taken precautions against getting caught unawares by Monat. In an elaborate self-hypnosis, he had told himself that he must never allow himself to be mesmerized by Monat. However, Monat could be powerful enough to break down that command, so Burton had been extremely cautious about being alone with him.
That forearming had been based on the fear that Monat might stumble across the time when he had been visited by the Ethical. That was Burton’s secret, one he wanted no one to know. He had had no idea then, of course, that Monat was one of Them.
He wondered if Frigate was also an expert hypnotizer. The fellow had never given any indication that he was. However, he had refused to let Burton try mesmerism on him. His plea had been that he could not endure the thought of losing his self-control.
Kazz remembered that, during the course of the session, Monat had remarked to Frigate about the Neanderthal’s ability to see the symbols.
“‘We never knew about that. We’ll have to tell HQ as soon as we get a chance.’”
So, Burton thought, Monat and Frigate were in communication from time to time with the Ethicals. How did they manage that? Were prearranged landings of the flying machines, which Burton had once glimpsed, one method of communicating? Those machines which flickered into and out of visibility as they flew along?
Those two must have been watching him closely. That was one of the reasons the Mysterious Stranger had visited him at night during a storm. The Ethical must have known that Monat and Frigate were in Burton’s party. But he had never mentioned them, had not put him on his guard.
Perhaps he had meant to do so, but he had been hurried. He’d said that the Ethicals were coming soon in their flying machines. And he had left abruptly. Even so, he surely would have mentioned so grave a matter. A few words would have warned him. Why had he not done so? Was it possible that he did not know that Monat and Frigate were with him? And Ruach, too. He must not forget Ruach.
Why had three agents been assigned to him? Wouldn’t one have been enough? Also, why was one so conspicuous as the Arcturan given the job?
Whatever the reasons for this, the matter of the lack of signs on the heads of the three agents was more pressing. Evidently, Ethicals, first-order or second-order, did not have such marks. Now that they were aware that Neanderthals could observe this, they had made sure that Kazz would not say anything about it.
Moreover, Monat had then told Kazz that from that moment on he would see the marks on the foreheads of himself and his two colleagues.
Why had he not then installed a command that Kazz would see these signs on everybody who did not have them?
Perhaps he thought that it would not be necessary. The chances of running across other Neanderthals, never a numerous people, were slight. Still, it would have eliminated any exposures of agents from then on.
The explanation might be simple. Monat would have had to describe the marks of every agent in the valley. Inasmuch as there might be hundreds, or thousands, for all Burton knew, that would have been impossible.
Monat had not been too wrong in thinking that encounters with Neanderthals would be rare. In fact, Burton had never seen more than a hundred. All of these except Kazz and Besst had been passed by swiftly and at a distance during the day.
Yet, they had come across Besst.
He tried to recollect the exact circumstances under which she had been met. It was three years ago that they had come ashore at evening. This was an area populated largely by fourteenth-century A.D. Chinese and ancient Slavs. Besst was living with a Chinese, but she had made it evident from the first that she wished to go on the boat with Kazz. It was dark, so she would not have noticed anything unusual about Frigate and Monat—aside from the latter’s being nonhuman, of course.
The two had gotten together and talked until late that night. When her hutmate had ordered her to come with him, she had
refused. There was a tense moment when it looked as if the Chinese were going to attack Kazz. Discretion won. He realized that, though he was bigger than the Neanderthal, he was also much weaker. Though very short, Kazz’s massive bones and muscles made him stronger than any but the most powerful of modern men. In addition, his brutal face was enough to scare anybody.
The two had gone aboard to spend the night together. Yet they must have gone to sleep before dawn. Could Monat have gotten her then? Probably. Burton did not know how he had done it. But Besst had never said anything about Frigate’s and Monat’s marks.
Kazz finished his account of the session. It was short and what Burton had expected.
He sent Kazz after Besst, telling him to be very quiet. In a few minutes he was back with her. Burton told her he would satisfy her curiosity later. For the time being, would she let him hypnotize her? Sleepily, she agreed, and she sat down on the chair Kazz had occupied.
After telling her he was Monat, he took her back to the mesmerizing by Monat. As he had thought, it had been done after she and Kazz had gone to sleep. Monat had simply described to her the marks which he had hypnotized her mate into seeing on the three agents’ foreheads. Then he had ordered her to see the same marks. The whole process would have been done very quietly and quickly.
Monat and his colleague had been lucky. Before Kazz had encountered Spruce, he had seen two other people without the marks. However, the first time had been on Resurrection Day. He had called out to the man, asking him why he had no mark. The man had fled, probably not because he understood what Kazz was saying but because he had misunderstood the Neanderthal’s intentions.
Later, after meeting Burton, Kazz had tried to tell him what he had seen, but neither could speak the other’s language yet. And Kazz had simply forgotten about it in the days following, when they were all busy trying to survive.
The second person he’d seen lacking a mark was a woman, a Mongolian. This had happened at high noon, and the woman had just come out of The River, where she was bathing. Kazz had tried to talk to her, but her hutmate, who did have a mark on his head, had taken the woman away. Evidently, he was jealous. Once more, Kazz’s intentions were misunderstood.