-
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
done? I thought they were our friends. . ."
"Maybe we get some warriors and throw sbarp things at
them till they appreciate us," Van Rijn suggested.
The car went swiftly, even over irregular ground. An
hour or so after it had started again, Uulobu shouted from
his seat on top. Through the overhead window the hu-
mans saw him lean across his windshield and point. Look-
ing that way, they saw a dust cloud on the northwestern
horizon, wider and lower than the one to the south. "Ani-
mals being herded," Uulobu said. "Steer thither, sky-folk."
Joyce translated and Van Rijn put the control bar over.
"I thought you said they was hunters only," he remarked.
"Herds?"
"The Horde people maintain an economy somewhere
between that of ancient Mongol cattlekeepers and Amer-
ind bison-chasers," she explained. "They don't actually
domesticate the iziru or the bambalo. They did once, be-
fore the g1acial era, but now the land couldn't support such
a concentration of grazers. The Hordes do still exercise
some control over the migrations of the herds, though,
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
cull them, and protect them from predators."
"Um-m-m. What are these Hordes, anyhows?"
"That's hard-to describe. No human really understands
it. Not that t'Kelan psychology is incomprehensible. But it
is nonhuman, and our mission has been so busy gathering
planetographical data that we never found time to do psy-
chological studies in depth. Words like 'pride,' 'clan,'
and 'Horde' are rough translations of native terms-not
very accurate, I'm sure--just as 't'Kela' is an arbitrary
name of ours for the whole planet. It means 'this earth'
in the Kusulongo language."
"Hokay, no need beating me over this poor old egg-
noggin with the too-obvious. I get the idea. But look you,
Freelady Davisson. . . I can call you Joyce?" Van Rijn
buttered his tones. "We is in the same boat, sink or swim
together, except for having no water to do it in, so let us
make friends, ha?" He leaned suggestively against her.
"You call me Nicky.."
She moved aside. "I cannot prevent your addressing me
as you wish, Freeman Van Rijn," she said in her frostiest
voice.
"Heigh-ho, to be young and not so globulous again! But
a lonely old man must swallow his sorrows." Van Rijn ~
sighed like a self-pitying tornado. "Apropos swallowing,
why is there not so much as one little case beer along?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Just one case; one hour or maybe two of sips, to lay the
sandstorms in this mummy gullet I got; is that so much
to ask, I ask you?"
"Well, there isn't." She pinched her mouth together.
They drove on in silence.
Presently they raised the herd: iziru, humpbacked and
spiketailed, the size of Terran cattle. Those numbered a
few thousand, Joyce estimated from previous experience.
With vegetation so sparse, they must needs spread across
many kilometers.
A couple of natives had spied the car from a distance
and came at a gallop. They rode basai, which looked not
unlike large stocky antelope with tapir faces and a single
long horn. The t'Kelans wore kilts similar to Uulobu's, but
leather medallions instead of his shell necklace. Van Rijn
stopped the car. The natives reined in. They kept weapons
ready, a strung bow and a short throwing-spear.
Uulobu jumped off the top and approached them, hands
outspread. "Luck in the kill, strength, health, and off-
spring!" he wished them in the formal order of import-
ance. "I am Tola's son Uulobu, Avongo, Rokulela, now a
follower of the sky-folk."
"So I see," the older, grizzled warrior answered coldly.
The young one grinned and put his bow away with an
elaborate flourish. Uulobu clapped hand to tomahawk.
iThe older being made a somewhat conciliatory gesture
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
and Uulobu relaxed a trifle.
Van Rijn had been watching intently. "Tell me what
they say," he ordered. "Everything. Tell me what this
means with their weapon foolishness."
"That was an insult the archer offered Uulobu," Joyce
explained unhappily. "Disarming before the ceremonies
of peace have been completed. It implies that Uulobu isn't
formidable enough to be worth worrying about."
"Ah, so. These is rough peoples, them. Not even inside.
their own Hordes is peace taken for granted, ha? But why
should they make nasty at Uulobu? Has he got no prestige
from serving you?
"I'm afraid not. I asked him about it once. He's the
only t'Kelan I could ask about such things."
"Ja? How come that?"
"He's the closest to a native intimate that any of us in
the mission have had. We saved him from a pretty horrible
death, you see. We'd just worked out a cure for a local
equivalent of tetanus when he caught the disease. So he
feels gratitude toward us, as well as having an economic
motive. All our regular assistants are-were impoverished,
for one reason or another. A drought had killed off too
much game in their territory, or they'd been dispossessed,
or something like that." Joyce bit her lip. "They. . . they
did swear us fealty. . . in the traditional manner. . .
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
and you know how bravely they fought for us. But that
was for the sake of their own honor. Uulobu is the only
t'Kelan who's shown anything like real affection for hu-
mans."
"Odd, when you come here to help them. By damn,
but you was a bunch of mackerel heads! You should have
begun with depth psychology first of all. That fool planet-
ography could wait. . . Rotten, stinking mackerel, glows
blue in the dark. . ." Van Rijn's growl trailed into a
mumble. He shook himself and demanded further trans-
lation.
"The old one is called Nyaronga, head of this pride,"
Joyce related. "The other is one of his sons, of. course.
They belong to -the Gangu clan, in the same Horde as
Uulobu's Avongo. The formalities have been concluded,
and we're invited to share their camp. These people are
hospitable enough, in their fashion. . . after bona fides
has been established."
The riders dashed off. Uulobu returned. "They must
hurry," he reported through the intercom. "The sun will
brighten today, and cover is still a goodly ways off. Best
we trail well behind so as not to stampede the animals,
sky-female." He climbed lithely to the cartop. Joyce passed
his words on as Van Rijn got the vehicle started.
"One thing at a time, like the fellow said shaking hands
with the octopus," the merchant decided. "You must tell
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
me much, but we begin with going back to why the natives
are not so polite to anybody who works for your mission."
"Well. . . as nearly as Uulobu could get it across to me,
those who came to us were landless. That is, they'd stopped [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- zambezia2013.opx.pl