Part 3 (1/2)
”Beautiful Vivyan.” Her hands traced him shyly. He smiled his innocent pirate's smile. People always said that, it seemed to be their way of making him feel good. They didn't understand that he always felt good. It was part of his way to be, natural that his long olive body was strong and that his beard curled joyfully. Why did other people hurt themselves so?
”Come to the reefs.” It was fine how eagerly she came and let him teach her to quest down amongthe firelace to the hidden caverns below. McCarthy's fish circled and danced above their nests, rolling horrified eyes, so tame and ludicrous that the humans spluttered and had to surface to laugh.
Nantli dived and laughed and dived again until Vivyan became worried and hauled her out on the rocks. And later in the breast of the moonlit dunes it was very good. When she had left him he stretched and set out up the beach to the home of his friend, bearing many things of which he wished to be told the names.
McCarthy's sun was a ghost flower rising on the misty sea when he walked back. Beautiful how it fitted, Vivyan thought, the total serenity he always felt after his long talk in the lamplit room.
When he looked back at the beach ahead there was a gray-brown figure by the line of sea-wrack.
Jarring. He could think of nothing to do but walk on forward.
The brown man was turning a sea-feather with his foot. He didn't look up, only said quietly, ”Strange pattern. What's it called?”
Rea.s.sured, Vivyan squatted down to trace the sea-feather's veins. ”It's a gorgonia, I think. A colony of animals in a common tissue, a coenchyme. This one came from somewhere else, a spore from the s.h.i.+ps maybe.”
”Another pattern.” The brown man frowned, looking out to sea. ”I'm interested in patterns. Like on Horl you were doing birds then, wasn't it? With that xenoecologist wallah around the mountain. And my girl went with you, on Horl. And you checked in with your friendly ecologist and my girl and a couple of our group turned up missing. Somebody came for them. Only it wasn't anybody we know and n.o.body's heard of them since.”
He looked at Vivian.
”And here you're into marine biology. And there's this marine-life wallah down the line you have long sessions with. And Nantli's got interested in you. A pattern. How does the pattern go, Vivyan?
Does Nantli disappear too? I wouldn't like that. Not Nantli.”
Vivyan kept turning the sea-feather, wailing for the sea-wind to carry away the harshness in the brown man's voice. After a moment he looked up and smiled. ”What's your name?”
Their eyes met really close then and something began happening inside Vivyan. The brown man's face was changing too, as if they were both under water.
”Vivyan,” the brown man said with fearful intensity, ”Vivyan?”
He p.r.o.nounced it wrong, like Feefyane. Their eyes locked together and a hurt started lunging behind Vivyan's eyes.
”Vivyan!” the brown man insisted in a horrible tearing voice. ”Oh, no. You-” And then everything was perfectly still until he whispered, ”I think... I've been looking for you... Vivyan.”
Vivyan's whole head was jerking, he tore his eyes down from the white-ringed glare. ”Who are you?” he stammered. ”What's your name?”
The brown man put two hard fingers under Vivyan's jaw and turned his face up.
”Look at me. Think of Zilpan, Vivyan. Tlaara, Tlaara-tzunca... little Vivyan, don't you know my name?”
Vivyan gave a raw cry and lunged up clumsily at this small dangerous man. Then he was running into the sea, hurling himself across the shallows to the green depths where no one could follow. He stroke with all his strength, not looking back until he was in the thunders of the reef.
When the anger and hurtfulness had been cleaned away he made for a coralhead far out where he rested and dived and ate a conch and some sweet wet seahares and drowsed in the foam. He saw many calming things, and when the sun set he went back to sh.o.r.e. It was in his mind that he should go again to visit his friend, but warm voices called him and he let himself be drawn to where huge arthrostraca were being roasted in seaweed. He had never seen the brown man in this place, and soon he began to grin again and eat vastly of the tender sh.e.l.lfish in the silvery silweed smoke.But there was an undercurrent here too, a strainedness. People were restless, talking quick and low-voiced, looking past each other's shoulders. Was something unpleasant building, cramping the air?
Vivyan recalled sadly that he had noticed such feelings before. Certainly he must go soon to visit his friend. He hoped it was not becoming time to move on from this place too. He wolfed the delicious clams, soothing himself with the names of peaceful things, Tethys, Alcyonaria, Coniat.i.ties, Coccolobis, Nantli.
But Nantli was not a sea-creature, she was the brown man's girl and suddenly she was here in the silsmoke by herself, coming to him smiling and still. All at once he felt better. Maybe the badness had gone now, he thought, stroking her hair. They went out together.
When they reached their place in the dune he felt the tension under her stillness.
”You wouldn't hurt us, would you Vivyan?” She held his sides, peering at his face. The stress inside her was disgusting to feel. He tried to help her, to let his calm flow into her. Her talking was like claws.
Something about his friend. Patiently he recounted to her some of his new knowledge of the reef world.
”But about us,” she persisted. ”You didn't talk with him about us, about c.o.x?”
He stroked her breast, automatically registering the news that the brown man's name was c.o.x.
Wrongness. He concentrated on the beautiful flow of his palms on her body. Nantli, Nantli. If only he could ease this frenzy that was eating at her. His body guided him and presently she quieted and let him mold them together, let the life rhythm rise in peace. When it had crested and spent itself he stood up into the moonlight, pointing his beard at the sea.
”No, you go,” she smiled. ”I'm sleepy.”
He touched her gratefully and went down to the silver water. As he dived he heard her call.
Beyond the surf he turned and began to swim along the coast. It was better this way; no one could bother him here as they had on the beach. His friend lived in a small cove, beyond the far point; to swim would mean only taking more tune and the tide was running with him toward the setting moon. It drew him strongly, but not more strongly than his desire for the peace that only the long quiet talk would bring.
In the rhythm of his swimming he mused. Always there had been a friend for him, as the brown man-c.o.x?-had said. But that was good, that was necessary. How else could he understand a new place? On Horl there had been his friend on the mountain, and before that in another part of Horl where the mines were he had known a man who told him about the folding of mountains and the alien relics at which so many people came to wonder. That had been interesting but somehow troubled; he had not stayed long. And before that on the stations there had been the friends who taught him the names of stars and the large ways of suns. And before that, on the s.h.i.+ps... so many lives to learn, such a universe of marvels to remember. His arms rose and thrust tirelessly, carried on the moon tide. He was just feeling the long swells off the point when the strange heads rose around him.
At first Vivyan thought they were McCarthy's seals, or a kind of dugong. Then a streaming crest came up alongside and he saw moonlight on intelligent eyes and knew at once what they were: the natives of McCarthy's World.
He wasn't in the least frightened, only intensely curious. The moon was so bright he could see wet mottlings on the the stranger's pelt, like a seal pup. It touched his arm with webbed fingers, pointing to the reef. They wanted him to go there. But he couldn't, not now. He shook his head regretfully, trying to tell them he would come back when he had talked with his friend.
The sealman pointed again, and the others came closer. Then he saw they had weapons. A kind of spring-load spear. As they closed in Vivyan shot downward with all his power. It would have carried him far from any Terran but the sealmen were easily before him in the glimmering darkness, herding him back.
It was not in his nature to fight. He surfaced and swam with them, debating what to do. Was it possible that it was intended for him to bring this too to his friend? But that did not seem fair, when he was already so burdened.He swam mechanically, watching the strangers' eyes film and clear. They seemed to have transparent inner lids like certain fish which could focus either in water or air. Their eyes were huge, too; undoubtedly they were nocturnal.
”N'ko, n'ko!” The leader hooted, the first sound they had made. They were motioning him to dive.
He did so and found himself being pulled under the reef. Just as his lungs began to knot he saw, incredibly, a bright light ahead. The burst up into a cavern booming with sea-sound. He gulped air, staring with delight at a lantern on a ledge. All doubts vanished, he was glad he had come.
The webbed ones were scrambling out around him. Bipeds no taller than his waist, with lobed and crested heads. When they tugged his arms he bent and let them blindfold him before they led him into a tunnel. What an adventure to tell his friend!
The tunnel was dripping and musty and the way was hard to his feet. Coral. Presently he had to go under water again, still blindfolded. When they came out the air was dry and warmer and when he stumbled he felt crumbling limestone shelves. His sealmen hooted, were answered. Suddenly he was jostled and turned and they were taking his blindfold off, in a crowded place where several pa.s.sageways met.
Before him stood three much larger sealmen. To Vivyan's intense surprise they were holding weapons of a type which he knew for forbidden. He was just looking at these when the scent of the girl Nantli pulled his head around. How could she be here? He smiled uncertainly and then he saw the white eyes of the man c.o.x. The adventure was going bad.
”All right.” c.o.x spoke to the sealmen who had brought him and they pulled at Vivyan.
”Strip down.”
Wondering, he did so and felt an instrument sliding on the base of his spine.
”See,” said Nantli's voice. ”A scar, I told you.”
The brown man made a grunt like a sob and came and grasped Vivyan by the shoulders.
”Vivyan,” he said thickly in the strange way. ”Where are you from?”
”Alpha Centauri Four,” Vivyan told him, automatically remembering the garden city, his parents. The memory felt queer, thin. He saw the big sealmen gazing expressionlessly, cradling their weapons.
”No, before that.” c.o.x's grasp tightened. ”Think, Vivyan. Where were you born?”