“Better and better. The historical myth goes like this. The ancient people who treasured metal thought themselves gods, therefore the true gods destroyed them and their metal, and the metal places where they lived. Then the gods made them go out and live like the animals until they became purified. So if the people continue to live in this manner they will be pure again and will be admitted to a chl’t, I translated the word as paradise which is probably right. Meanwhile people must suffer in this world, obeying all of the taboos that enable them to live in the proper manner so that one day they will be able to enter paradise.”
“That’s tremendous!” Brion said, jumping to his feet and pacing back and forth, unable to sit still with excitement. “You are amazing, you’ve done a wonderful job. Every bit of what you say fits if these people are exactly what they appear to be. Refugees from a global holocaust. They were invaded, or were defeated in war, and had to flee their cities. They saw their armies and war machines destroyed. So now they blame their destruction on the gods. It’s a lot easier to do that then admit defeat.”
“A fine theory, professor,” Lea said, draining her glass and smacking her lips. She poured herself another one. “There is just one small thing wrong with it that I can see. Where are the victorious and conquering armies now? All the evidence we have seen indicates that this war is still being fought.”
“Yes,” Brion said, sitting down glumly. “I hadn’t thought of that. So now we really know little more than we did when we started.”
“Don’t despair. We know a lot. For one thing I explored our underground city theory, and all I got were empty stares. If the civilization on this world is underground these people don’t know a thing about it.”
“Which appears to be just about as much as we know. I’m beginning to think that we have hit a dead end.”
“Well you may have, Ravn Above Ravn, with your Hunters and fighters and all that big machismo stuff.” She hiccupped sweetly and touched the back of her hand to her mouth, smiling. “We girls had a more sensible conversation, as befits the more attractive and intelligent sex. As I am sure I told you, all metal is taboo, and machines made of metal are the most taboo of all as we discovered out the hard way when they spotted us near a metal flying ship. So, therefore, doesn’t it stand to reason that the most impossibly taboo place of all would be the place where the machines come from. Do you follow me so far?”
“Yes, of course. Do you really need another glass of vodka?”
“Shut up. Now wouldn’t it be very nice if we knew where the machines came from?”
“Of course, but …”
“But no buts. You see, I know. They told me how to find this place. So all we have to do now is go there and the mystery will be solved.”
She admired his expression, all hanging jaw and staring eyes. Then she closed her own eyes and quietly went to sleep.
12: Discovery!
Brion had an almost overwhelming desire to shake Lea awake, to force her to give some explanation of just what she had been talking about. He resisted. It had been a long and exhausting day for her; she must have kept going on nerve alone. When he went to put the bottle of vodka away he saw that she had drunk only a small amount. It was fatigue, not drink, that had dropped her in her tracks. Although the night was warm, as always, he spread the sleeping bag over her to guard against any chill.
What could she have meant the place where the machines come from? She must have been referring to war machines; they had certainly hadn’t seen any peaceful machinery since they had arrived on this planet. But how could there possibly be a single place where all the military hardware originated? Not one source for both sides. No, the idea was impossible. If a place where machines originated really existed, it would have to be for one side or another. And even that sounded crazy. Could all the war machines on side or the other issue from a single location? This might be possible if they were coming out of underground factories. That certainly gave credence to the theory of an underground civilization.
Perhaps there were not just one, but two armed groups, both of them staying securely below ground. While they sent their armies out to engage in battle on the surface. But what possible explanation could there be for actions of this kind? He shook his head. He was tired and could think of no solutions to any of this at the moment. Yet there had to be an answer, the machines and the warfare were certainly real enough.
Brion stood and looked around the crude encampment. All activity has ceased with sunset. The women were inside the cave and the Hunters were settling down to sleep in their accustomed places before the cave mouth. He looked for Ravn and found him sitting apart from the others, turning the necklace of finger bones over and over in his hands. This might be a good time to question him. Lea could be watched at the same time to make sure that she was undisturbed. Ravn would surely know something about this mysterious place of the machines.
An emotion of contentment and sleep pulsed over the settlement; anyone who threatened Lea would radiate fear, hatred, and would be instantly detected. Brion checked her again, she was still deeply asleep, then made his way through the recumbent figures to the Ravn.
“We will talk,” he said. Ravn looked up, startled, clutching the necklace to him. The quick spurt of surprise was instantly replaced by cold hatred. This one would have to be watched. Always.
“It is late. The Ravn is tired. In the morning…“
“Now.” There was no warmth in Brion’s voice; he reached out and took hold the necklace for a moment, instantly aware of the man’s spurt of fear. “You will do as I say. I will be obeyed at all times.” He released the necklace and sat down. Ravn instantly pulled it over his head with shaking hands.
“Who am I?” Brion said. Ravn turned away, looking behind him, around, anywhere except at Brion.
“Look at me, piece of dirt. Who am I? Give me my name.”
The words emerged with utmost reluctance, dripping with venom. “You are … Ravn Above Ravn.”
“That is true. Now you will answer my questions in the same true way. You have seen machines?” A reluctant nod of the head. “Good. What kind of machines have you seen?”
“It is forbidden to talk of machines.”
“It is not forbidden to talk of them to the Ravn Above Ravn. Have you seen machines that flew in the air? Good, you have. What did these machines do?”
“What machines always do. With loud noises they killed other machines, then they were killed in turn. It is always that way. That is what they do.”
“Have you ever seen a machine that did not kill other machines?”
“Machines kill machines, that is what they do.” The question was an impossible one to answer. It was obvious from his expression that he thought Brion was a fool for even asking it.
“All machines kill machines,” Brion echoed the other’s words. Then went on in the same quiet voice. “Now you will tell me where do the machines come from?”
The words had an instant and dramatic affect on Ravn. He shuddered all over and fear replaced all his other emotions on the instant.
“You will tell me,” Brion said, leaning forward and clashing his two great fists together; they impacted with a solid thud. “Tell me now!”
There was no escape. At this moment Ravn was more afraid of those fists than he was of the taboo of speaking. He pointed over his shoulder, but this did not satisfy Brion. In the end Ravn had to speak, stammering the words in a hoarse whisper.