'The MANtooth,' said Sylviana suddenly, and much to her ownconsternation. But half embarrassed, half proud in spite of herself,she pushed on. 'The Machine called you the Mantooth.'
'Yes,' he said simply. 'And that is what I am.'
'This machine---' began another.
'No, no, we'll come back to that later,' said Rawlings.'Your ?first father', Kalus. What did you mean by that?'
'Barabbas is my father now. I think it is what you would calladoption, though to us it is much more than that. The adopted sons of achildless leader are more dear to him.....' He stopped as emotionswelled in his throat, and he realized with a sudden pang the truth ofthese words. 'Barabbas is my father now.'
'Barabbas,' replied Rawlings thoughtfully. 'Surely that'snot a name given by a machine.'
'Yes. In fact it is. But I too have always thought it strange, andsomehow appropriate, since I learned of the Barabbas in your Bible.'
'It's not MY Bible,' said Rawlings quickly. 'But still, howdo you mean that?' Kalus pondered for a moment, trying to think howto express it.
'It wasn't Barabbas' fault: that he was freed, and Jesuscrucified. He was only trying to survive. And who can say what his?crime' was that he should have been imprisoned by the Romans, whoseem to me among the greatest criminals of history. And yet for thesimple fact of his presence on that day, and his desire to live ratherthan die in agony, he is branded a villain and hated, by those who needsuch symbols of hate, and love. Surely Jesus did not hate him.'
At this all were quietly stunned. For until that moment they hadretained the subconscious arrogance that Sylviana first experienced, andto which she had lately returned: the belief that a rough man withouteducation could not think or feel as they did, could not possess thesame soul, or depth of feeling.
They were wrong.
'Well said,' came a voice. And for the rest of the afternoon thequestions were not asked as from adult to child, from superior beings toinferior, but as from man (and woman) to man. Sylviana could only watchand listen, and tell herself in vain she didn't love him.
Because she had been stung by the affection he showed Kataya, andrefused to admit she was afraid of losing him.
Chapter 41
The next morning Kalus was woken by Kataya, who came to the secludedclear space where he had made his bed on softer ground, with thesleeping bag that Rawlings had given him. In the first light and wakinglife of morning she was beautiful, and sad, and it was only with aneffort that he reminded himself he was not free, to take her then andthere, and make love among the sacred rites of Spring. But she showedno such inclination, saying only.
'The Children will go North today, if Ishmael speaks the truth. Iwant to say goodbye, and I want you to be there with me.'
Her tone was passive, and yet deeply serious. He couldn't fullyunderstand the reason, but consented, giving to her, unquestioningly,the next hours of his life---giving as only the innocent can, withoutexacting a price, or expecting anything in return.
They walked together through the jumble of wounded landscape, nowgrowing less stark with the blooming of flowers and the spreading of newleaves. She seemed to know the way by heart, and he followed her withevery confidence. They spoke little, but there seemed no need of talkbetween them, and Kalus felt no awkwardness.
At length the sounds of the sea became closer, and they emerged from thecrumpled hills to stand at the high back reaches of the inlet, thefjord. It was not great, knifing inland for less than a mile, andscarcely sixty yards wide as it met the open sea. Yet still it formed aseparate world, and spoke of green, unspoiled lands beyond.
>From their rocky overlook they began to descend along an angular path that skirted its northern face. They moved carefully and quietly, as the waterline grew nearer, and the sounds of the Sea more pervasive. Turning a last, difficult bend, they saw the Children among the rocks and moss-covered earth of the uneven slope ahead of them, the margins of their amphibious, Winter home.
As the man and woman continued to advance, a cry of 'Ay, oy!' washeard, and the younger members leapt into the water, as the whalesclustered about the lower stones, waiting.
But one of the older males, in particular, showed no fear, and no signof retreating. Kataya he knew, and trusted, and the strong man with thesheathed weapon he had seen, in the boat, far away. Also, as Kataya hadintended, he felt something akin to jealousy at his presence here withher. There was the matter of possession.
This was Ishmael, so named by Kataya---the second leader, who would befirst when the eldest died. He stood his ground in silence, along withthe leader, and slowly the others returned, though maintaining theirdistance, and keeping close to the water's edge.
Kataya asked Kalus to remain where he was, and walked the numberedstrides that took her to the fourteen year old Ishmael. He smiled asshe approached, and together they stood on the tiny patch of levelground between them. She brought an open hand to her chest, as she haddone with Kalus, then opened it toward him in greeting. He did thesame, taking childlike pleasure in the understanding of her ways.
'Izmai,' she said softly, pointing to the North. 'You go?'Then remembering that she had affixed no time, she added. 'This day,North?'
'Izmai go,' he said proudly. Then his look became one of eagerentreaty, touching in its innocence. 'You go, Kai-tai, Noth?' Andhis arm followed hers in obvious longing, a sweeping arc that to hismind held images of bergs and floes and sweeping tundra, and vastislands of thirty thousand seals: the cold, exhilarating perfection ofunspoiled Arctic Seas.
She looked down, as pain clouded her face. How could she tell him, whoin naive trust believed that she could follow wherever he led?
'No, I cannot.' But this word she had not taught him, and he wouldnot have understood. She looked up into the huge, puzzled iris of hiseyes---blue, crater lakes that drowned all efforts to reach him.Weakly, the more pitiable because it came from one so strong, she said.'You come, in Winter, this place?'
But he could not get past the non-answer to his own question. Knowingno other course, he repeated it. 'You come, Kai-tai, Noth?' Sheshook her head, and there was nothing more she could do or say. Helooked hurt, but could not bridge the distance between them.
At this the unnamed Eldest, a supple, wizened hunter of fifteen, grewimpatient. This day they must begin the long migration, and it was timeto be gone. He raised a bony left hand to his mouth and emitted awhistling, clicking sound that was more of the deep than the land, andwhich the whales understood as well as he.
Ishmael turned to face her one more time, his own pain not lasting.Coming closer, he touched her with the tip of his penis, indicatingpossession. Then he slowly turned away, and followed the others intothe water. Their restless mounts surged beneath them, and soon theywere drifting out of sight.
Kataya stood motionless, as if frozen by a curse, until she feltKalus' warm hands upon her shoulders. She brushed him aside angrily,pulling forward. But this time he did not relent, listening to hisinstincts instead. He grasped her by the arms and turned her towardshim, holding her firmly as she struggled.
'Cry,' he said. 'Just cry.'
For a moment her face showed bitter conflict, but she could deny herselfno longer. She leaned against his chest, sobbing in the uncomprehendinggrief of one who has spared herself nothing, yet come to no reward. Hestroked her hair gently, much as he had seen the doctor do withSylviana. And though the two women were worlds apart in experience, andseemed so cold to one another, in this singular female emotion of loveand loss, they were much the same.
'He'll be dead in two years,' she said finally, not leaving theshelter of his body. 'He wants me, and I would dearly love to bearhis child..... If we could only mix our blood with theirs, throughinterbreeding, maybe we could end the tragedy of sure death inadolescence.
'But they will only mate in the North,' she continued, steppingback and clearing her eyes with the back of her wrist. 'How.....How can I reach him?' She could only repeat her
self, an echo oftragedy. 'He'll be dead in two years.' Both turned and lookedout to sea, to the place where whale and rider moved, nearly out ofsight.
'Goodbye,' she said darkly. 'Always goodbye.'
'You need never say goodbye to me,' Kalus answered, almost beforehe knew what he had said. He shook his head reproachfully. 'I'msorry.'
She was neither hurt nor angry with him, nor even soothed and pacified.She seemed, rather, calm with a strange, fatalistic indifference. Hereyes regarded him, slightly mocking.
'I know what you mean, Kalus. You love Sylviana, but feel a sense ofloyalty to me. I guess it's better than nothing.' And with thisshe mastered her emotions. Or so it seemed to her then.
Kalus' mind began to race along strange passageways, trying to findthe right words. But again instinct warned him off. He wanted to healher hidden wounds but could not, and perhaps should not try, until hebetter understood them. Though unknown feelings were at work insidehim, too.
*
They returned to the camp in silence, not touching, not sharing, and ifthey had dared to admit it, feeling more alone than if each to the otherdid not exist. They returned to Sylviana's glaring reproach, and tothe doctor's knowing questions about the Children, the others havinggone off to work. For he was the one member of the company to whomKataya would open her thoughts; and he, too, shared her desire tounderstand and cure the baffling self-destruction of the Children'sbodies as they neared adulthood, never forgetting that a living soul wascarried within.
And as always among the social intercourse of men, many actions andwords held cross-purposes at once, some realized, others forming likevague bubbles in the dark depths of the sea of human consciousness.Some would rise visibly, for those who knew how to read them; otherswould be raised only in the seclusion of after-thought. And stillothers, unwisely, would be suppressed. For all, in the end, must rise.
'Have they gone?' asked McIntyre, needing only Kataya'sdesolate expression for an answer.
'We'll get ?em next year,' he said more quietly.
'Who? What do you mean?' asked Sylviana.
'The Children,' he answered. 'Every Spring they migratenorth.' He observed the tension between herself and Kalus, and added.'You've wondered, no doubt, why the killer whales took up withthem in the first place?'
'Yes,' said Kalus. 'Why?'
'Intelligent symbiosis, my friend. Works every time. A hunter likeyourself will no doubt appreciate their technique. The youngsters makeland some distance from the beaches where the seals lie in theirhundreds, then come up behind them with sticks, startling them anddriving them into the sea, where the orcas are waiting. Then theChildren kill a few themselves, on land, and eat them on the spot.Feeds ?em both, neat as neat. A lesson for us all, I dare say.'He exchanged a look with Kataya, who said nothing.
'But they'll return next year?' asked Sylviana, still moved bythe memory of them, though compassion was receding before the onslaughtof jealous anger.
'Or move on to another island,' said Kataya coldly, unable to maskher dislike.
'Oh, they'll be back,' assured the doctor, 'As soon asIshmael takes over. Only a fool leaves a beautiful princess trapped inthe tower forever.' He looked at Kalus as he said this, though onlySylviana seemed to take his meaning, flushing with confusion andresentment.
Though neither of the newcomers could know it, the remark was neitherlight nor haphazard. The doctor was testing the waters for aprocreation problem which struck much closer to home. And though lostin the swirl of double meanings, Kalus realized nonetheless that despiteincluding several couples (he had no word for ?married'), therewere no children among company. He looked first to Kataya, whoseexpression in return was almost angry, then to McIntyre, who noddedgently. Sylviana would not even look at him.
'Hell, kids,' said the doctor at length, 'I might as well justtell you.' He set down the potted plants he was working on (fromwhich he hoped to make new medicines), and pulled an end chair towardthem. Then seating himself like an ancient storyteller, he bade Kalusand Sylviana to sit at his feet. To this only Kalus consented, the twowomen still exchanging poison glances. But if this was the audience towhich he must speak, then speak he would, torn as his own feelings wereby the animosity of the two young women, secretly heartened as herealized that Kataya's scorn must be the result of physical stirringsfor Kalus---as strong and healthy a sire as he could wish.
'Of the seven male crew members of the Virgo, four came out ofsuspension sterile.' At this blunt beginning Sylviana gasped, sensingperhaps what was to come.
'Yes,' resumed McIntyre. 'Of the three still capable ofproducing living sperm. . .myself not included,' he added somewhatwistfully, 'None are married, or even much attached to a woman stillin healthy child-bearing years. They can't father a child,' heexplained for Kalus' benefit. 'An unforeseen side-effect of solong a period of physiological inactivity. We have no children, asI'm sure you've noticed, and unless we can overcome our naturaltimidity and social taboos, we never will.'
He looked again toward the lovely Oriental, trying to gauge what shouldand should not be said. But lost in her own bitterness, she could givehim no sign. So he sighed, and said simply.
'Kataya and I had hoped that perhaps Ishmael..... But he's gonenow, and who knows if we'll ever see him again, or even if hischromosomes would match.'
'Ishmael will come back,' answered Kalus seriously, thedoctor's words largely lost on him, but wanting to ease Kataya'spain. 'Once a man has touched his own soul through another, there isnothing else in life that matters.' And not understanding the effectthat this would have, he looked not at Sylviana, of whom he wasspeaking, but to Kataya, by way of explanation and reassurance.
At this Sylviana let out a wordless execration, threw down the sheet shewas mending, and stormed off . Kalus followed in sudden fear.
'I did not mean---' he said desperately, but found her doorslammed and bolted in his face. In confusion he returned to the doctor,imploring.
'What do I have to do?' he said in frustration. 'Can't shesee that there could never be anyone else for me? Why can't sheunderstand?'
'Give her time, my friend,' said McIntyre. 'She'll comearound. If you want my observations, you're in her deep, and thatfrightens her. Just have a little patience, and if a man of science maysay it, a little faith. What's meant to be, will always be in theend.' These words seemed wise, yet Kalus could find no comfort inthem.
'But my stomach crawls without her. My heart is in my throat, and Icannot sleep. If I lose her there will be nothing. Nothing at all.'
'You haven't lost her, son.' With this he looked ruefullytoward Kataya. 'And if I'm any judge, you won't. Just besteady, with open arms, and she'll come back to you in time.'
But as McIntyre continued to study the younger man, he saw that hisexpression remained deeply troubled, so much so that he was trulytouched, as Kalus had been at the simple confusion of Ishmael.
'If it helps, I'll tell her what you meant just now. Kataya and Iunderstood. She's just too close, and can't see it.'
'Would you really do that?'
'Of course.'
'Thank you,' said Kalus, though his fear was not abated. 'Ihave to go somewhere and think.'
Bewildered and restless, Kalus called to the cub, and went walking offin no particular direction, perhaps heading vaguely toward the solace ofthe sea.
He tried to tell himself that things would work out---that he would oneday understand and be more comfortable among the baffling maze of humaninteraction. But it was no use. What was he doing here, surrounded bypeople and emotions he could not begin to read? Is this what Sylvianahad wanted?
He found himself thinking, with sudden longing, of the world and way oflife he had known in the Valley. He thought of his brother, who hadtaken a mate, and wondered if she was yet with child. Perhaps it wouldbe a boy, like Shama, who would not mistrust him, but look up to him infriendship. He thought of the wolves, now led by Akar, his noblefriend. Surely he did not
mean for them to keep Alaska forever sunderedfrom the pack, or from himself, who would need a mate. And last, thoughfar from least he thought of Avatar, who would always be free. And fora time his spirit ran with him, through the heart of a forest fivehundred miles deep.
Was a compromise of worlds possible, he wondered, some meaningfulcoexistence between the hill-people and the colonists? He tried, butcould not imagine it. And what did it matter, if he lost the only womanhe would ever love? Again he felt the sudden, sour turning of hisstomach, and the debilitating flow of unused adrenalin.
He wanted just to go to her, and take her to him, and tell her he washers alone, and always. He felt the longing for her touch like a holein his chest. But what could he do, when she would not let him nearher? He had not been alone with her for two days, which seemed aneternity, and she showed no sign..... Anger and jealousy hardly seemedthe signs of love.
He could not work it out, and was soon too weary and sick at heart tocare much, even for something that touched him so deeply. There was nounderstanding the minds of women, he conceded in despair. Or of men.
He could only be what he was, and hope this self-honesty would bring himto his proper place in the end.
AND IF IT DIDN'T?
Coming out of the ragged confusion of earth and stone onto a tranquilstretch of beach, he stripped off his outer garments and began to wadeout into the waves, stooping to wash away both grime and fatigue. Thewater was not warm, and perhaps there were lurking dangers---