“I don't doubt it in the least,” Jony returned. “You accepted her as one of your own kind. But you see, we do not accept you as one of us! That is the problem for you to consider. We are of the People—” he motioned towards Yaa and Voak.
Whether the clanspeople had understood any of this exchange, Jony did not know. He was glad to see that Yaa was looking brighter, that she no longer leaned weakly against her mate. Perhaps if, by some uncommon stroke of fortune, they could get out of the ship she would be herself again.
“You are human stock,” Jarat said.
“We are of the People,” replied Jony with the same firmness.
“What will satisfy you?”
“Free passage out of this ship, with your prisoners.”
He waited, his hold dropping away from Maba.
“If you have any way of talking to your captain,” he added a moment later, “you had better do it. If not—when Maba gets tired—I shall take over, with a great deal of pleasure.”
THIRTEEN
“You heard him captain,” Jarat raised his voice a little. “I can assure you he means what he says.”
There was silence except for a very faint buzzing out of the box Maba had assaulted. The spaceman who had tended that watched it now with the same apprehension one would feel on a cliff where vors were known to roost. It was plain that he now feared his own machine; was no longer master of it.
“Captain!” It was his turn to call out. “I-20 is building to critical!”
“Order your men away from our path, the other two of the People set free—” Jony restated his demands. “We have nothing to lose but our lives, and in your hands that is an escape of another kind. I know.”
When there was no answer, he turned resolutely to Maba. “Give me that!” He reached for the bar she had used to such purpose.
“No!” the word was like a scream from the spaceman. “You'll—the backlash—You don't understand what you're doing!”
Jony shook his head. “The answer is that I do, very well indeed.”
“The girl. You can't let her die.”
“I would,” Jony said slowly and distinctly, “kill her with my own two hands rather than let her remain here with you.”
Maba laughed. “He would do so,” she nodded vigorously. “When Jony promises, he does as he says he will. And if he does not smash your machine, then I shall. You lied to me about Yaa and Voak. Uga is my cub-kin. Do you understand!” She leaned forward, her face only inches away from that of the struggling man. “We are of the same season, Uga and I—and so kinbound. Jony, do it!” She straightened and shifted her fierce glance from the spaceman to the machine. “He is afraid; they are all afraid! Do it, Jony!”
He raised the bar.
“Captain!” The last appeal from the spaceman was frantic.
Jarat did not add to that protest, he was eyeing Jony narrowly as if trying to assess just how much of this was the truth. What he read in Jony's face must have convinced him.
“Captain,” his voice was more controlled than that of his fellow. “He does indeed mean it. After all, we cannot judge these castaways by our own knowledge . . . not yet.”
“Your passage out—” the words came gratingly as if the captain was forced against his will to utter each. “But we are not finished—”
“Our passage out,” Jony returned.
“They lied before, they can do it again!” Maba flashed, but Jony had already thought of that.
“You will raise the barrier, the mind barrier,” he said. “I shall not try control, but I will know it if your men plan against us.”
Again no answer for a long moment. Then: “Very well.” He could sense the fury behind that agreement.
Now he used the mind-sense. Yes, the barrier was gone. He motioned Maba to the door, Yaa and Voak were already there. The portal slid open. Outside there was no one. Jony held to his probe, spacemen were above, below . . .
“Down—” he gestured to the ladder. If Yaa could not negotiate that descent, he did not know what they could do.
But her strength seemed to be returning. Maba scrambled down first, then Voak followed, Yaa moving more slowly behind him. Jony came last, concentrating on locating every indication of life ahead and behind as his sense sought them out.
Luckily they were only one level above that from which the ramp stretched open to freedom. And below, awaiting them, huddled the two younger People. Maba threw her arms about Uga's furry shoulders, hugged her.
“Out!” Jony made that order urgent. But the People did not need his command, they were already padding down the ramp, into freedom. He followed. So far, his mind-search told him, no one within the ship had stirred. But once they were outside they would be highly vulnerable. Then would the captain keep his side of the bargain? Jony distrusted that as much as he would any bargain with an enemy.
They were crossing the open now, heading to the ridge. Uga and Corr appeared unaffected by their imprisonment, but it was plain that neither Voak nor Yaa had their old strength or were able to move at the best speed the People could keep.
Jony played rear guard. He still had the stunner taken from the spaceman, as well as the second which he had twitched out of Jarat's belt before he had left, and which he now entrusted to Maba.
She raced ahead, to stand halfway up the ridge, facing back toward the ship. Jony had no idea how far the range of those weapons was. He only hoped that Maba might cover their retreat from her position as well as he could from his rear guard station.
Luckily the flyer was gone. With that overhead they would not have any chance at all. Could those within the ship now perhaps strike out at them with some longer range attack? He knew so little . . .
The People had passed Maba's stand. Uga and Corr had already crested the ridge. He knew they would get under cover with all possible speed. Yaa and Voak followed.
At the foot of the rise Jony faced around as Maba had done. His mind-probe was blotted out again. Back in the ship they had once more raised that barrier. Which could mean attack to come!
“Jony.” Maba's voice—“Come—”
He went, with a burst of speed. Yaa and Voak were out of sight. Maba had moved to the crest where she stood, still on guard. He was breathing hard as he came level with her.
More than anything now he wanted to set that rise of solid earth and stone between them and the ship. He still could not quite believe that they had gained their freedom.
Jony watched the ship closely, more than half-expecting to witness an exit of force to trail them. Or would the spacemen wait for the return of the flyer to start pursuit? Geogee! In the stress of their breakout he had forgotten about the boy. What had they said—Geogee had gone to guide the spacemen to the place of stones. Jony had no doubts that meant the storage place. The power rods . . . !
Glancing around he saw no sign of the People. The fugitives had melted away into the brush cover with their usual skill at concealing themselves. Maba pulled at the sleeve of the garment the ship's people had forced on him.
“They—they'll come after us, Jony?” she asked that as a question.
“Maybe they're waiting for the flyer.”
“Geogee—he's with them, Jony.”
“I know. We'll have to get him away, too.” But at the moment he was more worried about what the boy could have shown the spacemen. The captain, those on board the ship, had displayed no dislike for the children, not until Maba had turned against them. Could he believe Geogee was safe—for now?
“You must tell me,” he rounded on Maba, “all you can about them. What are they doing here?”
Maba's expression was one of trouble. “They want to come here—to have a colony, Jony. There was a big fight—somewhere 'way out there—” with the hand not holding the stunner she motioned to the sky. “The Big Ones, they were driven away from this part of space. Now these people hunt new worlds for more colonies.”
“This world has its People,” Jony looked down over her head to the b
ush into which Yaa, Voak and the others must have gone. “These spacemen cannot just come and take it.”
“Jony,” she moved closer to him. “Maybe they can. They showed us things. They have a big box and you sit there watching it. Inside the box are pictures and the people in them move and do things. They showed us how they live on other worlds. Jony, there're lots and lots of them. There must be more than all the trees you ever saw,” she was plainly reaching for some kind of comparison to make the biggest impression on him. “And they have a lot of sky ships, bigger ones than this one. They say that they need more room for their people, and they were so glad to find this world. Because they can breathe here, and it is like others where they already live.”
“But it is not theirs,” he repeated. “It belongs to the People!”
“Did it always, Jony? Remember what we saw in the pictures . . .”
He seized the girl fiercely by the shoulders, stared straight down into her astonished face.
“That was wrong, Maba. The People are not animals, things to be used—”
He remembered at that moment what Voak had said to him when they had set the collar about his neck. Things to be used—like a staff, or a fruit net—a thing not a person. The People had won free from that once, such bondage must never be set on them again.
“But, Jony, what can we do to stop them?” Maba came directly to the point. “The spacemen can make people go to sleep with these things,” she waved the stunner. “They can fly right over us and do that. That's the way they caught us. The People won't even be able to get near enough to them to fight back.”
This was the unwelcome truth and he had to face it. Added to that was the possibility that Geogee might this very moment be showing the spacemen the weapons of the stone people. Jony had no idea what he and the clan could do, but he was also certain that they must not allow these others to take this world without a struggle. It remained to be seen what the People would think or do for their own protection.
“Come!” He started down after the vanished clanspeople. If he could only communicate fully with Voak! At such a time as this sign language fell woefully short.
He half-expected to be met by Otik, at least when they got into the bush cover. But there was no sign of any of the People there. Now Jony used his special sense, searching for the faint impressions they had for him. Nothing—near. The People were on the move, which was only what he could expect. They would travel as far from the ship now as they could.
And he could send no message to halt them. That they were angling northward again was the only promising bit of evidence for him.
The brush, through which he had learned long ago to slip with a minimum of obstruction, caught at his ship garment over and over and over again. His body felt hot and sweaty, his skin was chafed where the material rubbed against neck, armpit, along his thighs. At least Maba was not so encumbered.
She did not have the kilt she had worn, but her new covering was only from neck to knee. Jony guessed it had been improvised, there being no ready garment on the ship small enough for her to wear. She was able to slip and duck, weave in and out far faster than he could.
They had trail enough to follow and the People had certainly learned quickly that one must keep under cover. Jony kept listening for the buzz of the flyer. Did those in the ship have any far ranging means of communication to recall that?
As he went he fired questions at Maba, and she answered as readily and promptly as she could. Her account was of very good treatment, that Jarat and the captain had both questioned her and Geogee as to their past. The twins, not seeing any danger, had poured out in return all they knew. The spacemen had been particularly excited about the stone place.
“They might well be,” Jony returned grimly to that, “seeing what could be hidden there—”
“You mean the rod Geogee found—that one that made things go away,” Maba agreed. “He told them about that. They wanted to see one.”
Jony could well guess that they did. What had he and the twins done to the People who had given them life? Brought the space ship? No, that might have landed if Jony and the twins had not explored the place of stones. But to give the spacemen guidance to the secrets hidden there!
In spite of the steady progress of the clan Jony and Maba caught up with them by nightfall. They were not challenged by Otik who was plainly on sentry, but neither were they welcomed. He only stared at them as they went by into the campsite, where the nests were very small and thin, meaning a short rest only.
Voak squatted by his mate who lay full length on the biggest and best of that bedding. He was flanked on either side by Uga and Corr, and Jony thought it plain that they were sharing with the rest the details of their imprisonment and treatment on board the ship.
The boy held Maba by his side when she would have sped to Yaa. Not until he had some form of acceptance from Voak and the rest would he know whether they could stay, were once more clankin in the way which would matter most.
Voak was silent as he surveyed Jony and the girl. It was Yaa who voiced some rumbles in their talk. Her mate glanced down at her, then back at Jony. Getting ponderously to his feet, he crossed to face the boy squarely. His bulk and height made Jony seem small, unimportant, or so he felt. But at least the clanchief was not ignoring him as he half-expected he would. The collar was gone, but it had not been loosened by the People. In Jony's mind it still lay about his throat until he won full fellowship with them again.
“Ship thing”—Voak's hand arose to sign—“bad.”
Swiftly Jony made answer. “Bad!”
“People—sky thing—like—you.”
Jony could not deny that outward appearance. He cast around frantically for some comparison he could use to suggest that outward and inward should not be confused.
“Hoppers, Jony,” Maba produced the possible key, “remember hoppers and pinchers!”
The comparison he had once made for her! If Voak would only accept that belief. Jony gestured. His hands moved in the sign for hopper, then for hide and hunt—and then for the pincher—and again hide. The People all knew of that strange method of concealment which the hopper could use and how often it deceived the chosen prey.
Having so outlined something which they already knew Jony launched into his parallel thought.
“Sky ones—hoppers. Jony, Maba, Geogee—pinchers. Look alike—different.”
Voak appeared to consider the idea.
Jony plunged on. “Jony captured—find Yaa, find Voak, Corr, Uga—make them come out of bad place.”
Now that Voak could not deny.
The boy continued, “Jony not clankin to ship bad ones, Jony clankin to Voak, Yaa.”
He waited tensely. This was his bid for acceptance. If Voak refused to believe, then he and Maba would be no-kin—alone—in spite of what they had done to free the People.
From where she lay Yaa again spoke. Voak moved uneasily, his head turned a little toward her and then back again.
“Geogee—take bad ones—place of stones,” Voak signed.
“Geogee not know what happened to Yaa, Voak. Geogee, Maba, not told. Think all well.”
Would Voak believe that either?
“Bad ones find power to make People things. Place of stones have power to do so.”
Jony signed assent and then daringly added, “People must keep bad ones from taking power.”
Voak's jaws opened, displaying his most formidable fangs. He scowled as he did when facing a smaa or a vor.
“Voak—People—have no this”—he turned and caught the staff out of Trush's paw-hand, shook it in Jony's face—“like bad ones. Those have sleep sticks. Voak go to sleep before getting near to bad ones.”
Jony pulled the stunner from the front of his ship suit.
“Sleep stick for Voak.” He held it out.
But the clansman retreated a step. “Bad thing. Not for People.”
“Better for People than to be in ship again.”
From thos
e massed around behind Yaa old Gorni pushed. He held the metal staff Jony had found. Now he pointed the curved tip of this straight at the boy's breast.
“Give paw!” he signed.
Jony transferred the stunner to his left hand, extended the right. Before he could resist, Gorni had caught his wrist, held on in an unbreakable hold. In spite of the clansman's advanced age his physical strength could not be matched by any off-worlder.
He dropped the sharp point of the staff, piercing the skin on the back of Jony's hand. Then he dipped his muzzle and sniffed long at the bubble of blood forming there. The meaning of his action was lost on Jony. But he believed from the small stirs of the watching People, that to them this act held some vast importance.
Gorni gave a last sniff, raised his head. “Smell right,” he signed. “Clankin.”
Jony gave a great sigh of relief. What the smell of his blood had to do with acceptance, he could not tell. Only it was very apparent from the attitudes of those Gorni had so reassured, that he was again one of them. And, being one of them, he must now try to make them understand the danger from the sky ship. Not only for the present, but in days to come.
If Maba was right—that this one ship was the forerunner of a colony—then they were in desperate straits and must move. In what direction and how, Jony did not know. It might be they were already defeated in that instant when the ship had made a safe landing. But he refused to accept that; he dared not believe such a thing could happen.
With more confidence than he had felt for a long time, Jony signed to Voak: “People must not let bad ones take any power things from place of stones.”
Voak hunched his massive shoulders a little. Almost Jony could believe that the clansman felt the same breath of defeat which had touched his own thoughts.
“How stop?”
How indeed? Jony could give him no answer yet. Perhaps if they returned there he could tell. But would Voak agree to break the rule of the People and enter a place the clan held in such disgust and dread?
“We must find a way. What they take—” In his mind Jony could picture very vividly the use of a red rod with intent, not chance the way Geogee had done. “What they take could be very bad.”