Stones and pieces of dirt and dung had begun striking the vehicle while he spoke, but these rebounded harmlessly and he continued:
"I have also fertilized, plowed, tilled and seeded one of the old fields there. I want you to see how smoothly and evenly this was done, and I want you to watch and see what the yield from that plot comes to. I believe that you will be impressed. ..."
Four men rushed forward and set hands upon the side of the car. They immediately leaped or fell back.
"That was an electrical shock," he stated. "I am not foolish enough to give you the same opportunity to harm me twice. Damn it! We're neighbors, and I want to help you! I want my town to be the center from which the entire country receives the benefits I wish to bring it! I have amazing things to teach you! This is only the beginning! Life is going to be better for everyone! I can build machines that fly and that travel under water! I can build weapons with which we can win any war! I have an army of mechanical servants! I--"
The pelting had become a steady hail, and larger, heavier objects were now falling.
"All right! I'm going!" he cried. "All that I want you to do is to think about the things that I have said! They may seem a lot more reasonable later, when you have cooled off! Go and look at the Branson place! I'll be back another time, when we can talk!"
The vehicle moved slowly forward. A few people chased after for a time, hurling some final rocks and words. Then they fell behind. He left the village.
As he swung to the left, climbing about the side of a small hill, he saw a slim figure in a blue blouse and gray skirt, standing by the side of the trail, waving to him. He slowed immediately when he recognized Nora.
Coming to a stop, be leaned over and opened the door.
"Get in," he said.
She studied the car through narrowed eyes, then shook her head slowly.
"No," she said. "I thought you'd come this way, and I came on ahead to warn you--not to go for a ride in the thing."
"Warn me?"
"They're angry--"
"I know that."
She struck her fist against her palm.
"Don't interrupt! Listen! Could you hear what they were saying?"
"No. I---"
"I didn't think so, over all that noise. Well, I could, and I don't think that they are going to calm down and see things your way. I think that the only reason you're alive right now is that they couldn't break into this thing. ..." Gingerly, she reached out and touched the door. "Don't go back to the village. You probably ought to leave again--" Her voice broke and she turned away. "You never got in touch," she managed later. "You said that you would, and you never did."
"I--I couldn't, Nora."
"Where were you?"
"Far away ..."
"Far? As far as Anvil Mountain, or one of the other forbidden places? That's where you got this thing, isn't it?"
He did not reply.
"Isn't it?" she repeated.
"It's not the way you think," he answered then. "Yes, I was there, but--"
"Go away! I don't want to know you any more! I've warned you. If you value your life, leave here again--and this time, don't come back!"
"I can convince you you're wrong--if you'll listen, if you will let me show you some--"
"I don't want to listen and I don't want to see anything!"
She turned and ran off through the trees. He would have pursued her, but he feared leaving the car there, should any villagers be following.
"Come back!" he called.
But there was no answer.
Reluctantly, he closed the door and continued on. A puzzled centaur peered after him from the hilltop.
VII
The synthetic caterpillars crisscrossed the streets of the reviving city, removing trash and rubble. Their super-intendant, a short, wide-shouldered mutant with heavy brow-ridges, followed their slow progress, occasionally leaning upon his hooked driving-prod. The skies were sunny today, above the shining spires about which laborers clambered, building. Terraces were spreading under the care of a company of robot attendants. The steady throbbing of the restored factories filled the air as other-styled robots, flying machines, cars and weapons moved down the computerized assembly lines. Far below, a line of passing mutants genuflected as they passed the white-stone monument above the entranceway to the old teaching machine's quarters, which their leader had caused to be erected there and had designated as a shrine. Giant bird-like forms departed from and returned to flat-roofed buildings, moving into and out of their enormous patrol patterns. The superintendent uttered a cry, swung his goad and smiled. Life had been growing steadily better, ever since the arrival of the suncrowned one, with his power over the Old Things. He hoped that the leader fared well on his latest quest. Later, he would visit the shrine to pray for this, and that they might spread the blessings of warmth at night and regular meals across the land. A virtuous feeling he could now afford possessed him as he swung the goad again.
Michael Chain, florid-faced, hair thinning now, sat across from Daniel in the small, quiet restaurant, trying to seem as if he were not studying his reactions. Dan, in turn, uncomfortable in his best suit, poked at his melting dessert and sipped his coffee, trying to seem as if he were not aware of the surreptitious scrutiny. Occasionally, his wrist throbbed and somewhere a dish shattered. Whenever this occurred, he would hastily apply the biofeedback technique he had learned to suppress it.
"The record isn't doing too well, eh?" Michael said.
Dan raised his eyes, shook his head.
"I seem to go over better in person," he replied. Then he shrugged. "Hard to tell what you're doing wrong the first time around, though, I can already see a number of things I should have done differently--"
"It was good," Michael surprised him by saying. "I liked it." He flipped a palm upward and gestured vaguely away. "Even so," he went on."A small outfit, no promotion... Do you have any idea how many songs are recorded each year?"
"Yes, I do. It's--"
"... And you know something about statistics, even with a liberal arts background. It's practically a lottery situation."
"It's rough," Dan acknowledged.
The hand turned over and struck the tabletop.
"It's damn near impossible to make it, that's what it is."
A sound of breaking crockery emerged from the kitchen. Dan sighed.
"I suppose you're right, but I'm not ready to give it up yet."
The elder Chain called for an after dinner drink. Dan declined one.
"Still seeing that Lewis girl?"
"Yes."
"She strikes me as kind of cheap."
"We've had some good times together."
Michael shrugged.
"It's your life."
Dan finished his coffee. When he looked up, Michael was staring at him, smiling.
"It is," the older man said. He reached out and touched Dan's hand. "I'm glad your mind's your own. I know I sometimes push hard. But listen. Even without the degree, there'll always be a place for you in the firm. If you should ever change your mind, you can learn what you need on the job--pick up some night courses... No sales pitch. I'm just telling you. There'll still be a place."
"Thanks, Dad."
Michael finished his drink and looked about.
"Waiter!" he called. "The check!"
The chandelier began to quiver, but Dan recognized the feeling and quelled it in time.
Mor stood, leaning against the bedpost for support. He inserted a knuckle into an eye-socket and nibbed vigorously. It seemed that all he did these days was sleep. And his ankles, swollen again...