"Dick the Surgeon," Neq said. "Yes, he worked on me too." But did not raise his sword to demonstrate the surgery, afraid the gesture would be mistaken.
"I think it safe to assume I would have perished after that particular episode," Dr. Jones said, beginning the slow task of buttoning his shirt and vest. "But Dr. Abraham restored me. Since he would not have been present except for your timely assistance, I belief it is not farfetched to infer that I owe my preservation to you."
"For every life I may have saved," Neq said, "I have taken fifty."
Dr. Jones seemed not to have heard. "And of course his report enabled us to dispense with any further effort in the region of Helicon."
"Neqa died."
"Miss Smith... your bracelet..." Dr. Jones murmured, sifting through his information. "Yes, so Dr. Abraham informed us. He said the two of you were very close, and I am gratified to know that. She was a remarkable person, but alone." He did not say more, and Neq was sure the old crazy knew everything.
"I come to avenge her."
"Your reputation precedes you. But do you feel that more killing will satisfy your loss?"
"No!" And, with difficulty, Neq explained his conclusion about the real cause of Neqa's death, and his determination to rebuild Helicon.
Dr. Jones did not respond this time. He sat as if suffering from his venerable wound, eyes almost closed, breathing shallow.
Neq waited for several minutes, then raised his pincer-arm to touch the man and determine whether he was all right. Death by old age was something he had never encountered and was almost too horrible to contemplate. What were its symptoms?
Dr. Jones was alive, however. His eyes reopened, "Do you require proof that I was there, in the mountain?" Neq asked. "I brought papers for you. I do not know what they say." He had saved out these singed writings because of Neqa's literacy; any writing reminded him of her.
Now the crazy reacted beautifully. "Papers from Helicon? I would be extremely interested! But I do not question your veracity. My thoughts were momentarily elsewhere."
Momentarily? Crazies were crazy, naturally!
Then Dr. Jones got up and left the room.
Neq remained, baffled.
A few minutes later Dr. Jones returned with another man, a rotund crazy in spectacles. "Please tell Dr. Abraham and you told me," Jones said. "About your plans."
It was Dick the Surgeon--the man Neqa had rescued from the cage! Now he only remotely resembled the thin fugitive of four years ago.
Neq repeated his philosophy and his plan.
"Why do you come to us?" Dick asked, as though he had never had experience with the wilderness.
"Because I am a sworder, not a builder. I can't read, I can't operate the machinery of Helicon. You crazies can."
"He knows his limitations," Dr. Jones observed.
"But he is a killer."
"Yes," Neq agreed. "But I have had enough of killing." He lifted his arm. "I would make this sword into--"
"A plowshare?" Dr. Jones asked.
Neq did not answer, not being familiar with the term.
"Your former leader, Robert of Helicon," Dr. Jones said to Dick. "Was he not a ruthless man?"
"Robert? Oh, you mean Bob. Yes, ruthless but efficient. Maybe you're right." Dick looked at Neq. "It is ugly, but--"
Neq did not follow much of this. "I have cleaned and restored the mountain, but I cannot do more without your help. I can't fill it with people who can make it function. That is why I'm here."
"It would take a year for a man in your condition to tidy up that carnage!" Dick exclaimed.
"Yes."
There was a silence. The crazies hardly seemed enthusiastic!
Finally Dr. Jones brought out a sheet of paper. "Bring me these people," he said, handing it to Neq. "Those who have survived."
"I can not read. Is this the service you require of me in exchange for your help?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. I must ask you to tell no one of your project. And I must advise you that your weapon will be valueless in this endeavor--perhaps even a liability."
That seemed to be the extent of his answer. Neq glanced at his sword, wondering whether he should remind the old crazy that it was impossible for him to set aside his weapon, useful or not. "Tell me the names."
"You can remember them accurately?"
"Yes."
Dr. Jones picked the paper out of Neq's pincer-grasp and read. "Sos the Rope. Tyl of Two Weapons. Jim the Gun."
Neq halted him, astonished. "Sos the Rope went to the mountain... oh, I see. He may be alive after all. Tyl is master of the largest remaining tribe. Jim the Gun--"
"You may know Sos better by his later designation: the Weaponless."
"The Weaponless! Master of Empire?" And yet of course it fit. Sos had gone to the mountain; the Weaponless had come out of it. To take the wife he had always wanted--Sola. Neq should have made the connection long ago.
"Have you changed your mind?"
Angry, Neq kept silence while he considered. The crazies were trying to set him an impossible task! Was it to be certain he would fail? Was this really their way of refusing assistance? Or was Dr. Jones serious, having decided that it was necessary, before Helicon could be rebuilt, to eliminate its destroyers? The Weaponless, Tyl, Jim the Gun--these had been the architects of Helicon's demise. The Weaponless had provided the motive; Tyl the manpower; Jim the weapons....
Perhaps it made sense. But how to locate the Weaponless now! If the man lived, so did the empire, and Neq himself still owed him fealty!
"I think the Weaponless is dead," Neq said at last.
"Then bring his wife."
"Or his child," Dick said.
"And if I bring these people to you, then you will give me the help I need for Helicon?"
"There are more names." Dr. Jones read them: all unfamiliar.
"I'll bring every one that lives!" Neq cried recklessly. "Will you help me then?"
Dr. Jones sighed. "I should be obliged to."
"I do not know where to find them all."
"I will travel with you," Dick the Surgeon said. "I know many of the Helicon refugees by sight, and have some notion where they might hide. But it would be your job to persuade them to come--without killing them."
Neq mused on this... The company of the surgeon did not appeal to him, but it did promise to facilitate an onerous task. "I can't tell them and I can't kill them. Yet I must make them come. The leading warriors of the old empire, including the very man who--" He shook his head. "All because I want to rebuild Helicon, and restore your source of supply, so that you can bring back the circle code."
Dr. Jones didn't seem to comprehend Neq's irony. "You have the essence, warrior."
Angry and disappointed, Neq walked out. But Dick the Surgeon followed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tyl's tribe was not as large as it had been in the heyday of empire, for he had taken losses in the Helicon reduction and in the anarchy following. But its demesnes were larger because of the general decimation of nomads in recent years. Now it represented a kind of civilization itself, for shelters had been built, fields cultivated, weapons forged, and the circle code was enforced. There was now a preponderance of staffs, clubs and sticks, mostly wooden weapons, because metal was much cruder than Helicon's product. The fine old weapons were increasingly precious now. Neq knew that those who carried swords of the old type were veterans, for today a man was challenged as frequently for possession of a superior weapon as for woman or service or life.
"You come to challenge me?" Tyl demanded incredulously. "Have you forgotten the code of empire: the sub-chiefs of the Weaponless may not war against each other?"