Not all, regretfully. When he had awakened the morning after the operation, he found that Solitaire felt it had been done badly. The giant persistently interrupted Hiero’s thanks with apologetic remarks. I failed to understand all of the connections, the purposes of each and every one. Those which I could not understand I dared not meddle with. I am deeply aware that I did less than I should or than I promised. Nothing the man could tell him made the great creature feel better, though what had been accomplished was well-nigh incredible.
Solitaire had put the man into a deep sleep, using the hypnotic power of his great eyes, with Hiero unresisting and doing his best to relax. Through the whole night, starting at sunset and going well into the following day, the strange surgeon labored, his rnicrotools the minute extensions of his huge body. Knitting, splicing, mending, and operating only by memory and tactile sensation, Solitaire had labored on and on. At last, convinced that all possible had been done and daring no more, the titan aroused his patient.
In growing delight, Hiero found that his lost powers were restored. The mental blindness was gone and his awareness of other life was again intact. When Solitaire lured a young buck from far down the slope, the Metz was first able to sense it and then to feel inside its mind as it drew nearer. After that, he could not let the giant eat it. When Solitaire mentioned with some illness of ease that he was hungry and must eat something, Hiero went out of sight down the lake shore. What came in answer to the giant’s call, the priest never knew, but he hoped that it was both large and foul-tempered.
When Hiero returned, Solitaire still seemed to be worrying over the fact that there was one power that he had been unable to restore to the man. This was the newest of the skills Hiero had won, the ability to seize another mind and compel it to his will. He could “see” and communicate as well as in the past, or perhaps even better. But he could not do mental battle. The medicine of the Unclean had damaged that ability beyond even Solitaire’s skill to repair it.
Then it was question-and-answer time, and Hiero found himself hard-pressed to satisfy the giant’s need to know. His Abbey school training was put to undreamed-of tests. What was everything and how did it get there? That, in essence, was what the mutant snail wanted to know. Hiero writhed inwardly at what his preceptors in the church would have said about his statements on the nature of the Almighty. Still, he did his honest best, beyond which no one could do more.
It was not as hard as he had thought it might be, either. Solitaire could pick up a clue from any of a dozen angles. That incredible brain, stuffed with five thousand years of memory and thought, needed few aids in following an explanation.
It was while they were discussing some of the nature of the Unclean that Hiero learned of what Solitaire called “the Other Mind.”
It comes rarely, this sending, Solitaire said. It is not as old as I, or at least I never detected it until recently. By the last word, Hiero gathered, Solitaire might mean a thousand years or so; the mutant snail had little idea of lapsed time.
It seems to change somewhat, this power, at long intervals—at least, by what you and your kind would think of as long. It stays the same, this force, and yet changes as well. What exactly was meant, Solitaire could not explain, but about other aspects of the strange force, he was very emphatic.
Whenever I felt its presence, I hid my own mind. For it had something I feared about it. Now thai you have taught me what rage and evil are, I know what I feared. For I have never felt its presence free of anger. It has black anger against all and everything. And it is strong! You have given me much knowledge of your enemies, the Unclean. This is like them, I feel, but far, far more powerful. It may be of them, for what you tell me makes them seem one and the same. I felt it last not long ago, shortly before you came to my calling. It was very quick, like the bolt of fire from the sky in a storm. I regret that my skill could not have given you back the power to kill with your mind. You will need it. The worry in the great brain was very real.
Solitaire was quite amazing. Hiero had discovered that the giant, like most snails, was bisexual, capable of producing both eggs and sperm. On learning this fact, the man had suggested that an obvious thing to do was to raise some young, for company if not for anything else. This was surely not beyond its amazing biological powers, was it?
The reaction to this idea both surprised and amused Hiero. It was not right, not a pleasant thought. It was not—proper! The colossus of the hills was a prude! The more one learned about life, Hiero decided, the more one was amazed.
The last message from Solitaire came when Hiero was already far from the lake into which the giant had again retired.
Farewell for now, Hiero, new friend. Remember the direction of the men which I placed in your mind. I cannot reach them, but I know they are there. I can sense them at intervals, though they are not skilled with their minds as you are. Be careful!
And do not forget the Other Mind, the message went on, the one I have felt over the greatest distance from somewhere far to the south. What it is I cannot tell. But you have taught me well, and I know now that it is a great mind, even greater than mine, I think. Yet it is utterly, horribly wrong. It is evil. It means evil. Beware of it!
Farewell, once more. I have much to think about. We may meet again, sooner than either of us plans or imagines. I feel it!
Then the link was dissolved and the final contact was broken. Again, Hiero was alone. But now his mind was alert, and he was well armed, ready for any eventuality, as this last week of travel had proved.
Now fully rested, Hiero set off northward again at a steady lope, his gear swinging as he ran. The new shield was hooked firmly over the sword scabbard on his back. In addition to the spear in his hand and his belt knife, he bore the small canteen of leather. The bag slung over his shoulder held firestones, his seeing crystal, and the Forty Symbols, all wrapped in oiled leather. It also held a small supply of freshly dried meat and some roots, but they were for emergencies. In this game-filled country, he should feed well. Leather breeches, sandals, and a headband completed his possessions.
He sped along, his broad chest rising and falling easily. As the miles were eaten up by his steady pace, he rethought what little he had learned about this northward road he was following. He was rapidly leaving all trace of the heights behind, coming down the last gradients to another of the wide savannas once more. Dense clumps of heavy jungle broke the rolling waves of high grasses. Livid scars of green in the distance betrayed patches of marsh—or he had never seen their like before. He knew that he would find lazy rivers trailing here and there across the land as well. He hoped none would be too difficult to cross if one barred his path. The heat was bringing the sweat to his brow, used to the cool of the hills.
If possible, the animals were even thicker here than in the eastward country he had traversed weeks before. There were great red wolves and spotted cats of various sizes. The stripe-backed saberfang was here, its thunders drowning out all lesser feline noises. The mighty-trunked herbivores were also present in quantity, and the kinds and sheer numbers of antelope and grazing varieties of deer simply defied any coherent description. Hiero saw new things often, his active mind doing its best to catalogue each and every one.