Sense of Obligation

  VII

  With the cool air and firmly packed sand under foot walking should havebeen easy. Lea spoiled that. The concussion seemed to have temporarilycut off the reasoning part of her brain leaving a direct connection toher vocal cords. As she stumbled along, only half conscious, she mumbledall of her darkest fears that were better left unvoiced. Occasionallythere was relevancy in her complaints. They would lose their way, neverfind the city, die of thirst, freezing, heat or hunger. Interspersed andentwined with these were fears from her past that still floated,submerged in the timeless ocean of her subconscious. Some Brion couldunderstand, though he tried not to listen. Fears of losing credits, notgetting the highest grade, falling behind, a woman alone in a world ofmen, leaving school, being lost, trampled among the nameless hordes thatstruggled for survival in the crowded city-states of Earth.

  There were other things she was afraid of that made no sense to a manof Anvhar. Who were the alkians that seemed to trouble her? Or what wascanceri? Daydle and haydle? Who was Mansean whose name kept coming up,over and over, each time accompanied by a little moan?

  Brion stopped and picked her up in both arms. With a sigh she settledagainst the hard width of his chest and was instantly asleep. Even withthe additional weight he made better time now, and he stretched to hisfastest, kilometer-consuming stride to make good use of these besthours.

  Somewhere on a stretch of gravel and shelving rock he lost the track ofthe sandcar. He wasted no time looking for it. By carefully watchingthe glistening stars rise and set he had made a good estimate of thegeographic north. Dis didn't seem to have a pole star, however a boxlikeconstellation turned slowly around the invisible point of the pole.Keeping this positioned in line with his right shoulder guided him onthe westerly course he needed.

  When his arms began to grow tired he lowered Lea gently to the ground,she didn't wake. Stretching for an instant, before taking up his burdenagain, Brion was struck by the terrible loneliness of the desert. Hisbreath made a vanishing mist against the stars, all else was darknessand silence. How distant he was from his home, his people, his planet.Even the constellations of the night sky were different. He was used tosolitude, but this was a loneliness that touched some deep-buriedinstinct. A shiver that wasn't from the desert cold touched lightlyalong his spine, prickling at the hairs on his neck.

  It was time to go on. He shrugged the disquieting sensations off andcarefully tied Lea into the jacket he had been wearing. Slung like apack on his back it made walking easier. The gravel gave way to slidingdunes of sand that seemed to continue to infinity. A painful, slippingclimb to the top of each one, then and equally difficult descent to theblack-pooled hollow at the foot of the next.

  * * * * *

  With the first lightening of the sky in the east he stopped, breathrasping in his chest, to mark his direction before the stars faded. Oneline scratched in the sand pointed due north, a second pointed out thecourse they should follow. When they were aligned to his satisfaction hewashed his mouth out with a single swallow of water and sat on the sandnext to the still form of the girl.

  Gold fingers of fire searched across the sky, wiping out the stars. Itwas magnificent, Brion forgot his fatigue in appreciation. There shouldbe some way of preserving it. A quatrain would be best. Short enough tobe remembered, yet requiring attention and skill to compact everythinginto it. He had scored high with his quatrains in the Twenties. Thiswould be a special one. Taind, his poetry mentor would have to get acopy.

  "What are you mumbling about?" Lea asked, looking up at the craggyblackness of his profile against the reddening sky.

  "Poem," he said. "_Shhh._ Just a minute."

  It was too much for Lea, coming after the tension and dangers of thenight. She began to laugh, laughing even harder when he scowled at herangrily. Only when she heard the tinge of growing hysteria did she makean attempt to break off the laughter. The sun cleared the horizon,washing a sudden warmth over them. Lea gasped.

  "Your throat's been cut! You're bleeding to death!"

  "Not really," he said, touching his fingertips lightly against theblood-clotted wound that circled his neck. "Just superficial."

  Depression sat on him as he suddenly remembered the battle and death ofthe previous night. Lea didn't notice his face. She was busy digging inthe pack he had thrown down. He had to use his fingers to massage andforce away the grimace of pain that twisted his mouth. Memory was morepainful than the wound. How easily he had killed. Three men. How closeto the surface of the civilized man the animal dwelled. In the countlessmatches he had used those holds, always drawing back from the exertionof the full killing power. They were part of a game, part of theTwenties. Yet when his friend had been killed he had become a killerhimself. He believed in nonviolence and the sanctity of life. Until thefirst test when he had killed without hesitation. More ironic was thefact he really felt no guilt. Shock at the change, yes. But no more thanthat.

  "Lift your chin," Lea said, brandishing the antiseptic applier she hadfound in the medicine kit. He lifted obligingly and the liquid drew acool, burning line across his neck. Antibio pills would do a lot moregood, since the wound was completely clotted by now, but he didn't speakhis thoughts aloud. For the moment Lea had forgotten herself in takingcare of him. He put some of the antiseptic on her scalp bruise and shesqueaked, pulling back. They both swallowed the pills.

  "That sun is hot already," Lea grumbled, peeling off her heavy clothing."Let's find a nice cool cave to crawl into for the day."

  "I don't think there are any here, just sand. We have to walk--"

  "I know we have to walk," she interrupted angrily. "There's no need fora lecture about it. You're as seriously cubical as the Bank of Terra.Relax. Take ten and start again." Lea was making empty talk while shelistened to the memory of hysteria tittering at the fringes of herbrain.

  "No time for that. We have to keep going." Brion climbed slowly to hisfeet after stowing everything in the pack. When he sighted along hismarker at the western horizon he saw nothing to mark their course, onlythe marching dunes. He helped Lea to her feet and began walking slowlytowards them.

  "Just hold on a second," Lea called after him. "Where do you thinkyou're going?"

  "In that direction," he said pointing. "I hoped there would be somelandmarks. There aren't. We'll have to keep on by dead reckoning. Thesun will keep us pretty well on course. If we aren't there by night, thestars will be a better guide."

  "All this on an empty stomach? How about breakfast? I'm hungry--andthirsty."

  "No food." He shook the canteen that gurgled emptily. It has been onlypartly filled when he found it. "The water's low and we'll need itlater."

  "I need it now," she snapped. "My mouth tastes like an unemptied ashtrayand I'm dry as paper."

  "Just a single swallow," he said. "This is all we have."

  Lea sipped at it with her eyes closed in appreciation. He sealed the topand returned it to the pack without taking any himself. They weresweating as they started up the first dune.

  The desert was barren of life; they were the only things moving underthat merciless sun. Their shadows pointed the way ahead of them, and asthe shadows shortened the heat rose. It had an intensity Lea had neverexperienced before, a physical weight that pushed at her with a searinghand. Her clothing was sodden with perspiration, and it trickled burninginto her eyes. The light and heat made it hard to see and she leaned onthe immovable strength of Brion's arm. He walked on steadily, apparentlyignoring the heat and discomfort.

  "I wonder if those things are edible--or store water?" Brion's voice wasa harsh rasp. Lea blinked and squinted at the leathery shape on thesummit of the dune. Plant or animal, it was hard to tell. The size of aman's head, wrinkled and gray as dried-out leather, knobbed with thickspikes. Brion pushed it up with his toe and they had a brief glimpse ofa white roundness, like a shiny taproot, going down into the dune. Thenthe thing contracted, pulling itself lower into the sand. At the sameinstant something thin and sharp la
shed out through a fold in the skin,striking at Brion's boot and withdrawing. There was a scratch on thehard plastic, beaded with drops of green liquid.

  "Probably poison," he said, digging his toe into the sand. "This thingis too mean to fool with--without a good reason. Let's keep going."

  * * * * *

  It was before noon when Lea fell down. She really wanted to go on, buther body wouldn't obey. The thin soles of her shoes were no protectionagainst the burning sand and her feet were lumps of raw pain. Heathammered down, poured up from the sand and swirled her in an oven ofpain. The air she gasped in was molten metal that dried and cracked hermouth. Each pulse of her heart throbbed blood to the wound in her scalpuntil it seemed her skull would burst with the agony. She had strippeddown to the short tunic--in spite of Brion's insistence that she keepher body protected from the sun--and that clung to her, soaked withsweat. She tore at it in a desperate effort to breathe. There was noescape from the unending heat.

  Though the baked sand burned torture into her knees and hands shecouldn't rise. It took all her strength not to fall farther. Her eyesclosed and everything swirled in immense circles.

  Brion blinking through slitted eyes, saw her go down. He lifted andcarried her again as he had the night before. The hot touch of her bodyshocked his bare arms. Her skin was flushed pink. Wiping his palm freeof sweat and sand he touched her skin and felt the ominous hot dryness.

  Heat-shock, all the symptoms. Dry, flushed skin, the ragged breathing.Her temperature rising quickly as her body stopped fighting the heat andsuccumbed.

  There was nothing he could do here to protect her from the heat. Hemeasured a tiny portion of the remaining water into her mouth and sheswallowed convulsively. The thinnest of the clothing protected herslight body from the direct rays of the sun. After that he could onlytake her in his arms and keep on toward the horizon. An outcropping ofrock there threw a tiny patch of shade and he walked toward it.

  The ground here, shielded from the direct rays of the sun, felt almostcool by contrast. Lea opened her eyes when he put her down, peering upat him through a haze of pain. She wanted to apologize to him for herweakness, but no words came from the dried membrane of her throat. Hisbody above her seemed to swim back and forth in the heat waves, swayinglike a tree in a high wind.

  Shock drove her eyes open, cleared her mind for the instant. He reallywas swaying. With sudden horror she realized how much she had come todepend on the eternal solidity of his strength. Now it was failing. Allover his body the corded muscles contracted in ridges, striving to keephim erect. She saw his mouth pulled open by the taut cords of his neckand the gaping, silent scream was more terrible than any sound. Then shescreamed herself as his eyes rolled back, leaving just the empty whiteof the eyeballs staring terribly at her. He went over, back down, like afelled tree, thudding heavily on the sand. Unconscious or dead shecouldn't tell. She pulled limply at his leg, but couldn't drag hisimmense weight into the shade.

  Brion lay on his back in the sun, sweating. Lea saw this and knew thathe was still alive. Yet what was happening? She groped for memory in thered haze of her mind, but could remember nothing from her medicalstudies that would explain this. On every square inch of his body thesweat glands seethed with sudden activity. From every pore oozed greatglobules of oily liquid, far thicker than normal perspiration. Brion'sarms rippled with motion and Lea stared, horrified as the hairs therewrithed and stirred as though endowed with separate life. His chest roseand fell rapidly, deep, gasping breaths wracking his body. Lea couldonly stare through the dim redness of unreality and wonder if she wasgoing mad before she died.

  A coughing fit broke the rhythm of his rasping breath, and when it wasover his breathing was easier. The perspiration still covered his body,the individual beads touching and forming tiny streams that seeped downhis body and vanished in the sand. He stirred and rolled onto his side,facing her. His eyes open and normal now as he smiled.

  "Didn't mean to frighten you. It caught me suddenly, coming at the wrongseason and everything. It was a bit of a jar to my system. I'll get yousome water now, there's still a bit left."

  "What happened? When you looked like that, when you fell--"

  "Take two swallows, no more," he said, holding the canteen to her mouth."Just summer change, that's all. Happens to us every year onAnvhar--only not that violently, of course. In the winter our bodiesstore a layer of fat under the skin for insulation and sweating almostceases completely. Lot of internal changes, too. When the weather warmsup the process is reversed. The fat is metabolized and the sweat glandsenlarge and begin working overtime as the body prepares for two monthsof hard work, heat and little sleep. I guess the heat here triggered offthe summer change early."

  "You mean--you've adapted to this terrible planet?"

  "Just about. Though it does feel a little warm. I'll need a lot morewater soon, so we can't remain here. Do you think you can stand the sunif I carry you?"

  "No, but I won't feel any better staying here." She was light-headed,scarcely aware of what she said. "Keep going, I guess. Keep going."

  As soon as she was out of the shadow of the rock the sunlight burst overher again in a wave of hot pain. She was unconscious at once. Her slightweight was no burden to Brion and he made his best speed, heading towardthe spot on the horizon where the sun would set. Without water he knewhe could not last more than a day or two at best.

  When sunset came he was still walking steadily. Only when the airchilled did he stop to dress them both in the warm clothes and push on.Lea regained consciousness in the cool night air and finished the lastmouthfuls of water. She wanted to walk, but could only moan with painwhen her burned feet touched the ground. He put ointment on them andwrapped them in cloth. They were too swollen to go back into the raggedshoes. Lifting his burden he walked on into the night, following theguiding stars.

  * * * * *

  Except for the nagging thirst, it was an easy night. He wouldn't needsleep for two or three days more, so that didn't bother him. His muscleshad a plentiful supply of fuel at hand in the no longer wantedsubcutaneous fatty layer. Metabolizing it kept him warm. By running at aground-eating pace whenever the footing was smooth he made good time. Bydawn he was feeling a little tired and was at least ten kilos lighterdue to the loss of the burned up fat.

  There was no sight of the city yet. This was the last day. Massive asthe adaptation of his body was to the climate, it still needed water tofunction. As his pores opened in the heat he knew the end was veryclose. Weaving, stumbling, trying not to fall with the unconscious girl,he climbed dune after unending dune. Before his tortured eyes the sunexpanded and throbbed like a gigantic beating heart. He struggled to thetop of the mountain of sand and looked at the Disan standing a few feetaway.

  They were both too surprised by the sudden encounter to react at once.For a breath of time they stared at each other, unmoving. When theyreacted it was with the same defense of fear. Brion dropped the girl,bringing the gun up from the holster in the return of the same motion.The Disan jerked a belled tube from his waistband and raised it to hismouth.

  Brion didn't fire. A dead man had taught him how to train his empatheticsense, and to trust it. In spite of the fear that wanted him to jerk thetrigger, a different sense read the unvoiced emotions of the nativeDisan. There was fear there, and hatred. Welling up around these was astrong desire not to commit violence this time, to communicate instead.Brion felt and recognized all this in a small part of a second. He hadto act instantly to avoid a tragic accident. A jerk of his wrist threwthe gun to one side.

  As soon as it was gone, he regretted his loss. He was gambling theirlives on an ability he still was not sure of. The Disan had the tube tohis mouth when the gun hit the ground. He held the pose, unmoving,thinking. Then he accepted Brion's action and thrust the tube back intohis waistband.

  "Do you have any water?" Brion asked, the guttural Disan words hurtinghis throat.

  "I have water
," the man said. He still didn't move. "Who are you?"

  "We're from offplanet. We had ... an accident. We want to go to thecity. The water."

  The Disan looked at the unconscious girl and made his decision. Over oneshoulder he wore one of the green objects that Brion remembered from thesolido. He pulled it off and the thing writhed slowly in his hands. Itwas alive. A green length a meter long, like a noduled section of athick vine. One end flared out into a petallike formation. The Disantook a hook-shaped object from his waist and thrust it into the petaledorifice. When he turned the hook in a quick motion the length of greenwrithed and curled around his arm. He pulled something small and darkout and threw it to the ground, extending the twisting green shapetowards Brion. "Put your mouth to the end and drink," he said.

  Lea needed the water more, but he drank first, suspicious of the livingwater source. A hollow below the writhing petals was filling withstraw-colored water from the fibrous, reedy interior. He raised it tohis mouth and drank. The water was hot and tasted swampy. Sudden sharppains around his mouth made him jerk the thing away. Tiny glisteningwhite barbs projected from the petals, pink tipped now with his blood.Brion swung towards the Disan angrily--and stopped when he looked at theother man's face. His mouth was surrounded by many small scars.

  "The vaede does not like to give up its water, but it always does," theman said.

  Brion drank again then put the vaede to Lea's mouth. She moaned withoutregaining consciousness, her lips seeking reflexively for thelife-saving liquid. When she was satisfied Brion gently drew the barbsfrom her flesh and drank again. The Disan hunkered down on his heels andwatched them expressionlessly. Brion handed back the vaede, then heldsome of the clothes so Lea was in their shade. He settled into the sameposition as the native and looked closely at him.

  Squatting immobile on his heels, the Disan appeared perfectly comfortableunder the flaming sun. There was no trace of perspiration on his naked,browned skin. Long hair fell to his shoulders and startlingly blue eyesstared back at Brion from deep-set sockets. The heavy kilt around hisloins was the only garment he wore. Once more the vaede rested over hisshoulder, still stirring unhappily. Around his waist was the samecollection of leather, stone and brass objects that had been in thesolido. Two of them now had meaning to Brion. The tube-and-mouthpiece; ablowgun of some kind. And the specially shaped hook for opening thevaede. He wondered if the other strangely formed things had equallyrealistic functions. If you accepted them as artifacts with apurpose--not barbaric decorations--you had to accept their owner assomething more than the crude savage he resembled.

  "My name is Brion. And you--"

  "You may not have my name. Why are you here? To kill my people?"

  Brion forced the memory of the last night away. Killing was just what hehad done. Some expectancy in the man's manner, some sensed feeling ofhope prompted Brion to speak the truth.

  "I'm here to stop your people from being killed. I believe in the end ofthe war."

  "Prove it."

  "Take me to the Cultural Relationships Foundation in the city and I'llprove it. I can do nothing here in the desert. Except die."

  For the first time there was emotion on the Disan's face. He frowned andmuttered something to himself. There was a fine beading of sweat abovehis eyelids now as he fought an internal battle. Coming to a decision herose, and Brion stood, too.

  "Come with me. I'll take you to Hovedstad. But wait, there is one thingI must know. Are you from Nyjord?"

  "No."

  The nameless Disan merely grunted and turned away. Brion shoulderedLea's unconscious body and followed him. They walked for two hours, theDisan setting a cruel pace, before they reached a wasteland of jumbledrock. The native pointed to the highest tower of sand-eroded stone."Wait near this," he said. "Someone will come for you." He watched whileBrion placed the girl's still body in the shade, and passed over thevaede for the last time. Just before leaving he turned back, hesitating.

  "My name is ... Ulv," he said. Then he was gone.

  Brion did what he could to make Lea comfortable, but it was very little.If she didn't get medical attention soon she would be dead. Dehydrationand shock were uniting to destroy her.