“You are dirt. You are women. You are shit! You raise a spear towards me and I kill you. You are dead meat under my foot like this Ravn who is dead meat.” He leaned some of his massive weight onto the man as he talked and the Ravn wailed impressively. Brion had the upper hand and he meant to keep it. He sensed nothing except unreasoning fear from all of the Hunters. One of the sensation patterns was more familiar than the others.
“Vjer come here,” he ordered.
The Hunter rose hesitantly to his feet and stumbled forward. There was blood running from his nose, and he was dazed, numbed by the explosions. Brion fixed him with a glare.
“Who am I?” he called out.
“You are Brrn …”
“Louder, I cannot hear you.”
“BRRN.”
“What is this piece of dirt I stand upon?”
“That is the Ravn.”
“Then who am I now?”
“You must be … the Ravn Above Ravn!” His eyes were wide as he spoke and Brion could sense the awe, the almost worshipful quality of his emotions. Brion pointed to the plasteel knife that Vjer was holding.
“What is that in your hand?”
Vjer looked at the knife and began to shake. He dropped to his knees with fear and crawled forward to lay it at Brion’s feet. Brion picked it up and slipped it back into his empty sheath.
“Now we will go on,” he said, taking his foot from the Ravn’s back. The title he had been given was of greatest importance; he could sense that by the reactions of the men around him. The aggression and fear were fading as he was accepted in his new role.
“They still have their weapons,” Lea said, eyeing the Hunters with suspicion.
“There is no need to disarm them, since I am now a part of their culture in this new role.”
“And what about me? I know, a woman, less than nothing. Carry the bundle and shut up. But wait until I have you out of this male-chauvinistic paradise, Brion Brandd! Oh, how you are going to pay for this …”
As they climbed the hillside through the trees, Brion kept his senses aware of the men about him. As long as they accepted him he was safe. But this could change in an instant, for reasons he might not even be aware of. But if this new-found status continued to work this would be the quickest and most successful way to penetrate the culture and talk to the people. It was dangerous. But it was too late to turn back.
Once the aggression and hatred had been removed, with no reason to stay together, the Hunters began to drift away one at a time. Only a handful stayed with them all the way to the settlement. They worked their way up a steep hill, until a rocky cliff was visible ahead through the trees. It slanted back to form a string of natural caves. A small group of women were working here, scraping the flesh from lizard skins with bits of sharp stone. They retreated when they saw the strangers, being speeded along with kicks and blows from a grey-haired woman. “Must be a female version of Ravn,” Lea said, looking on with interest. “Since you seem to have established yourself as top dog with the Hunters, I’m going to do the same with the ladies.” She dropped the bundle and followed the women-towards the cave, calling out for them to stop. They only ran the faster, all except the grey haired woman. She wheeled about and rushed at Lea.
“I kill! You dirt,” she screeched.
Lea settled her weight evenly on both feet and drew back a small, hard fist. As her adversary ran up she swung a punch with all of her strength right into the pit of the woman’s stomach. She folded nicely, wailing with pain, her arms clutched about her midriff. Lea seized her by the hair and dragged her face around.
“Shut up and tell me your name or I’ll hit you again.”
“I am … First Woman.”
“No more. I am First Woman. You are now Old Woman.”
The newly named Old Woman wailed again in protest, at the same time trying to pry Lea’s fingers from her hair. The wail turned to a scream of pain as Ravn passed by and casually kicked her in the side.
“You are now Old Woman,” he said, happy to see some one else humiliated as he had been. He went on to seat himself against the rock wall, in the sun, then screamed for food.
“Charming people,” Lea said.
“Products of their culture,” Brion answered, wrapping a piece of lizard skin around the communicator before he took it from the bundle. “And the system obviously works for survival on this planet or these people would not be here. I’m going to have the lifeship’s computer enter a report into its memory about what happened today. We want to keep the record complete and up to date, just in case something happens to us.
“Don’t depress me any more, if you please. I believe that we are going to finish this assignment alive. Keep that idea firmly in your skull. While you’re doing that I’m going to talk to the women. See what this repulsive world looks like from their point of view.”
“Good. We need information, but we don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. Most of them have vermin, have you noticed that?”
“Hard to miss. I get itchy just looking at them. Don’t go too far away.”
“I’ll be right here. I want to do some questioning myself. I’ll talk to Vjer since I have already established a relationship there. Good luck.”
It was almost dark before Lea emerged from the cave, scratching grimly under her arm. Brion was talking to two of the Hunters, but he sent them away when he saw her expression. He held up a plastic container. “I found some antiseptic spray in the medkit that will make a good insecticide.”
“Use it, please! That cave is literally a pesthole.”
She quickly stripped off her clothes and sprayed her body, which was covered with red welts. Brion then used the spray on her clothing while she rubbed healing cream into her skin. She called out to him as she was dressing again.
“Be an angel and pour me a large double vodka. The flask is down at the bottom of the bundle.”
“I’ll join you. It’s been a long day for both of us. How did your question session go?”
“Fine, if you don’t consider the bug bites. Right to the top, that’s right, thanks. My, that feels delicious going down. The women have a sub-culture of their own, arranged strictly by rank, and a wonderful trove of stories as well. There appears to be a myth or a mnemonic chant for everything you could possibly name. It’s a complete oral history. I’ll take a recorder next time. This will be priceless material for the anthropologists. Now tell me what you found out.”
“Very little. The Hunters talked to me easily enough, but only about killing this animal or the other, or about their own great prowess in the chase. You can well imagine the sort of thing. Other than these topics they have no personal opinions. They are just walking collections of taboos. Everything they do or think is governed by this system.”
“It’s the same with the women, at least in their physical life. But they escape into myth very easily, and that activity seems to be totally outside the taboo areas. Though I have a feeling that the stories are probably taboo for men. Did you hear anything about the creation myth?”
Brion shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”
“It’s interesting because it might very well be a simplified version of a true history, something that is still remembered, but only in mythical form. The story says that at one time the people lived like gods, that they moved over the ground without using their feet, and even flew through the air with our having wings like the flying lizards. In those time the people were wrong because they treasured many things that were made of ckt’t have you run across the word?”
“Yes, and I know what it is. Metal. From the way the word was used I suspected what it meant, but I had to lose one of my subjects to find out that my theory was right. I made him look at the transceiver and the mere sight of it turned him into a bundle of blind fear. He actually ran headlong into a tree as he was trying to get away from the thing.”