The huts were laid out in a carefully designed pattern. The rows were neat and straight, each one containing about twenty-five huts except for the rows near the center of the village. Those were shorter, so that a kind of plaza was formed right in the middle of things.
In the center of the plaza stood a single huge hut. It was of the same design as the others, with a flat top and straight sides, but it was about twenty feet high and twenty feet wide. It towered over the smaller buildings like a strange square skyscraper.
That must be where the “higher authority” of the village lives, Rand thought. It’s a temple, or a palace, or maybe a city hall. It’s where the local chief will decide what’s going to happen to us.
The aliens were saying something to him. Rand held the thought-converter toward them for the translation.
“You will go to the great house,” they were telling him. “We will present you to the Mother.”
“Who is the Mother?” Rand asked. But he got no answer.
They walked toward the great house.
He noticed a strange thing: there didn’t seem to be any children in the village, or even any young adults. All of the aliens seemed to be of the same age and size and height.
There was another surprise as he got closer to the great house. Up till now, every villager he had seen was busy doing something. Now Rand saw a few loafers. These aliens lay sprawled on the ground looking remarkably lazy. Their eyes were closed, their mouths drooped open, their arms were folded across their middles. They weren’t dead, but they weren’t very lively, either.
These sleepers had slightly deeper brown skins than the others. Their bodies were soft and flabby. Two or three of them opened their eyes to stare at the Earthmen. But they closed them again after a brief look. All the other villagers were such hard workers. Rand wondered why these lucky few got off so lightly.
They came to the great house, now. Three of the aliens went inside. One of his captors turned to Rand and said, “Clickclick click.”
“Say that again?” The machine translated Rand’s words into clicks.
The alien repeated the noises into the thought-converter. They came out as, “You wait out here.”
“Can’t we go inside?”
“Negative negative negative. NO! Strange ones must not enter great house of the Mother. Stay here while we tell about you to the Mother.”
Rand shrugged. “If you want us to wait, we’ll wait, I guess.”
Time passed—one minute, three, five. Rand began to fidget. What was going on in there? Who was the Mother, and what was she telling these people?
He looked, at the swords of the aliens who guarded them. He didn’t like to think about the wicked-looking barbs along the edges of those blades.
He wondered if their luck was going to run out right here.
Luck had allowed the three of them to survive the explosion aboard the spaceship, when everyone else died. Luck had let them get into the lifeship and make a safe escape. Luck had brought them down on Tuesday unharmed, even though he had never piloted a ship before. Luck had carried them safely through the jungle despite all the hidden dangers.
But now their luck had changed. They were prisoners. Their lives were at the mercy of these alien creatures. Unarmed, outnumbered, they had to depend on the whim of the Mother. Would she spare them? He wondered. They seemed awfully unfriendly.
Another five minutes went by. Then the three aliens who had gone into the great house came out. They buzzed something to the ones who guarded the Earthmen. Rand strained to hear it, but the words were too faint for the converter to pick them up.
Then one of the aliens turned to him and said clearly, “The Mother has decided. You are dangerous. You threaten our safety.”
“No,” Rand protested. “We don’t threaten anybody’s safety. We’ll leave as soon as we reach our—our friend. Our friend in the east!”
“The Mother says you threaten our safety,” the alien said again, firmly. “And so you must die!”
Not here, Rand thought. Not now. Not like this. Not in a sticky jungle on an unknown planet for a stupid reason.
The ring of guards lifted their swords. The cruel barbs glittered in the hot sunlight. Here it comes, he told himself.
He tried to get ready to die. He was going to go down fighting. Maybe he’d take a few of the barrel-shaped creatures with him.
Then Leswick, who had been silent for a long time, came to life.
“Wait!” he shouted into the converter. “Wait! I demand to see the Mother! I claim the right to return to our hive!”
Chapter 13
Rand was baffled. He did a double take, blinking in surprise, then stared at Leswick. The little man seemed mysteriously changed. His weak eyes were bright, his hands were outspread, his fingers were trembling nervously.
“What did you say?” Rand asked.
“Hush,” Leswick muttered. To the aliens he said, “Did you hear me? We have become cut off from our hive. We ask you to let us go back to it.”
The aliens were strangely silent for a moment. Then they turned to face each other, and they buzzed and hummed in low tones, talking things over. The converter wasn’t able to pick up their words.
Rand realized in that moment what the world of Bill Dombey must be like. Just now, Rand was as bewildered as the big jetmonkey usually was. His mind was blank. He couldn’t begin to figure out what Leswick was up to.
All he knew was that Leswick and the aliens seemed to understand each other.
The aliens continued to confer. Leswick kept on watching them tensely. The sound of his breathing was harsh and rasping.
Finally one of the aliens hopped forward. “It is all different now. We did not understand your trouble,” the creature said to Leswick. “We will talk to the Mother again. We will see if she will let you speak with her.”
The alien went back into the great house. It was in there about five minutes. Then it came out and announced, “You may enter. The Mother will see you.”
Rand started forward. But Leswick reached out and caught his arm.
“No—I’ll go in alone. You stay out here and keep Dombey company.” Leswick took the converter from him.
“But—“ Rand let the word trail off. He saw that he was out of his depth, now. Without argument, he let the Metaphysical Synthesist enter the building. The ring of guards closed tightly around Dombey and Rand after Leswick went in.
Again time passed with terrible slowness. It began to rain again, but only for a few minutes. Insects circled Rand’s head and he shooed them away. Now and then the aliens exchanged words. But without the converter Rand could understand nothing.
He looked at Dombey. The huge man stood with his arms folded. He didn’t seem to be thinking about anything at all. Dombey wasn’t bothered by the mystery of what was going on. Dombey didn’t even try to figure out such things. Life is simpler that way, Rand thought.
But he couldn’t act that way himself—not with his life at stake. He wanted desperately to know what Leswick was trying to do. Why was he pulling that business about returning to their hive? What hive? Where?
From inside the great house, Leswick called, “Rand, will you come in here now? Better bring Dombey, too.”
“Coming,” Rand called back. He nudged the jetmonkey. “Let’s go in, Tarzan. And remember, stand still, don’t touch anything, don’t make any trouble.”
Dombey grinned. “Sure, boss.”
They went in.
The great house was as dark as a tomb inside. The only light came from three small openings in the roof. Faint beams of brightness slanted into the building.
The air had a stale, musty smell. Rand stood just within the entrance until his eyes grew used to the dimness. Then he saw Leswick in the middle of the room. Leswick pointed to something against the far wall.