"The Space Barbarians" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

Chapter Four

Don of the Clarks and Cornet Samuel DeRudder ate before the Sidonian was again blindfolded, mounted on a horse and led away by the Clann Clark Raid Cacique. During their ride of an hour or more, Don said little, immersed in his own bitter thoughts.

Finally they halted, and the blindfold was removed.

Don of the Clarks pointed. “In that direction lies your cursed New Sidon City. You will probably not make it before late tomorrow, at earliest. In your saddlebags are bread and meat. For the sake of your message, I hope you are not stumbled upon by raiders from the Highland Confederation or those from Ayr.”

DeRudder looked at him questioningly. “Your friend John seemed to be in favor of uniting with these other confederations to combat us. I wonder why you haven’t done it.”

Don looked at him uncomfortably. “Perhaps because although it is not against the bann, it is not meet. The Keepers of the Faith oppose such large scale raids that whole confederations would be involved. Too much of the blood would be spilt.”

DeRudder laughed suddenly. “The United Interplanetary Mining Company ought to subsidize these Keepers of the Faith of yours.”

The clannsman’s face darkened, but he said nothing.

Instead, his eyes had gone to the ground, and he scowled at something he evidently saw there.

He said, “I’ll go on with you for a way.”

DeRudder was mystified but shrugged it off and kicked heels into the side of his beast.

A few minutes later, he saw the reason for the other’s continued presence. They topped a rise and sported before them John, trudging across the heath, alone and unmounted.

He heard them shortly and turned. His face was empty.

Don drew up and dismounted. He unstrapped the harness around his waist and held out the claidheammor and skean scabbards and the reins of his animal.

He said simply, “I can walk back.”

John looked at him. Finally he said, “As a clannless one, I am forbidden the wearing of the claidheammor.”

Don said, “Yes, I know. And any clannsman who found you without clann kilts and bearing arms would attack you. But what is the alternative… John? Your only way to survive now would be to enter the longhouse of some clann as a servant. And I do not think he who was once supreme raid cacique could ever become a servant. I understand that in the mountains some clannless ones, products of the destroyed towns, have banded together and survive by raiding both the Sidonians and the phyla. Perhaps you can find them.”

John shook his head at him in surprise. “You would have me turn into a clannless bandit?”

“I would have you live, for until you were stripped of your kilts… John, we were blood comrades. And… and though it be against the bann, for me, we still remain.” He turned and walked back in the direction from which he and DeRudder had just come.

John looked after him until he disappeared over the rise of hill.

DeRudder said dryly, “Greater love hath no man, eh?”

John said, “You wouldn’t understand, Samuel of the DeRudders.” He swung his leg up over the saddle.

“Perhaps I would,” DeRudder said. “There’s another alternative to joining up with the hill bandits, you know.”

John grunted. “Yes. I can continue to roam the heath until I run into a raider band and am cut down.”

DeRudder fell in beside him. “You can come to New Sidon City.”

John grunted again. “It had never occurred to me.”

“Think about it.”

John was irritated. “What would I do in this city of yours? I know nothing of cities. Besides, you Sidonians carry the bloodfeud with he who was once Supreme Raid Cacique of the Loch Confederation.”

“We don’t have any such institution as the bloodfeud, John. And above all, we need capable men, and especially capable Caledonians, if ever we are to develop this fantastic world.”

John was scowling. “But you and I carry the bloodfeud. You shamed me when I was but a lad.”

DeRudder said in deprecation, “You forget your own ways, John. I thought a clannless one, such as yourself, was not allowed such luxuries as vendetta.”

The big man flushed. “You are correct,” he said in a low voice. “I had forgotten.” He added, “For that matter, you too are clannless. We are both men without honor.”

“Among civilized men, you can gain or lose honor only through your own actions.”

The conception was new to the Caledonian, and he could only scowl as he thought about it. “But one who is born clannless?”

“Like everyone else, makes or fails to make his own degree of honor, or ethics, if you will.”

“Any Keeper of the Faith can tell you that true honor and faith are only in the hands of the phylum and down, through it, to the clanns.”

DeRudder looked at him in amusement. “Don’t you think you have finally arrived at the point where you should reject some of these teachings of the Keepers of the Faith? In fact, you already have. That’s why you’re on your own. By the way, you’d better make up your mind whether or not you wish to accompany me to New Sidon City.”

“Why?”

DeRudder pointed. “Because there is a skimmer, and they’ve probably detected our body heat and will be on the scene shortly.”

John stared up at the distant dot in the sky. “It seems as though my decision has been made for me. If I refuse to go with you, they will undoubtedly cut me down with their flamers.”

“I can see no particular reason to allow you to take to the hills and do your best to raid our mining developments.”

As the aircraft grew larger, John, staring up at it, said, “What makes it fly?”

DeRudder chuckled. “John, you wouldn’t understand if I tried to tell you.”

“I am not a fool, Samuel of the DeRudders,” the Caledonian said coldly.

“It is not a matter of being a fool. You would not even understand the terminology. When you are in New Sidon City, you can attend school, possibly at night. At least you can already read and have even done a certain amount of studying of some of the books you’ve captured from us—in spite of the banns of your Keepers of the Faith. In a year or two, perhaps you’ll have progressed to the point where aerodynamics need not be a complete mystery.”

“School?” John said. “I thought you would put me to work in your mines.”

“School, too,” DeRudder said. “I keep telling you, we are here to develop this benighted planet. Uneducated half savages don’t lend themselves to a civilized culture. One of our biggest tasks is to get the population into schools. Besides, our mines are not the only projects that call for employees. There are a thousand tasks involved in conducting a city such as New Sidon. Where you’ll fit in, I don’t know at this stage.”

The skimmer came swooping in, circled them twice, then settled some fifty feet off.

A loudspeaker said, “Identify yourselves.”

DeRudder barked, “I am Cornet Samuel DeRudder of New Sidon City, and this is John Hawk, formerly of the town of Aberdeen but who now is to take a position with United Interplanetary Mines.”

An entry port opened, and a warrant and two enlisted men issued forth, all three with hand weapons at the ready. The warrant saluted DeRudder but turned a beady eye to the giant Caledonian.

“Drop those toad stickers you’re wearing, friend. You won’t need them in the city.”

John unbuckled his belt and let the claidheammor and skean drop to the ground.

Even as he dismounted, DeRudder said, “You can take us to New Sidon? I don’t seem to recognize you, Warrant.”

“Yes, sir. We’re from Berkeley, sir, but sure we can take you back to your own city. It’s more or less on the way. What are you doing out here, sir?”

DeRudder said briefly, “I was captured by clannsmen of the Loch Confederation, but they turned me loose. This man volunteered to return to New Sidon with me.”

“Turned you loose? That’s a new one, sir.” John had dismounted too. Now the Sidonian warrant approached him warily and gave him a quick frisking. “Sorry,” he said, “but you know how it is.”

“I vouch for him, soldier,” DeRudder said testily.

“Yes, sir. However, I know a case where one of these dallies got taken prisoner and into a skimmer, and what d’ya think happens? Once a couple of hundred feet up into the air and he whips out a sticker like they carry and nigh finishes off the whole crew before somebody manages to flame him down.”

John bore the search, which revealed nothing. The warrant led the way back to the skycraft, the wary enlisted men, guns still at the ready, bringing up the rear.

Inside the craft, John took a deep breath as it began to rise. Long years before he had once ridden in a surface craft of the men from Beyond. Now, as then, there was a sinking in the belly as the strange means of locomotion began. They were seated in the rear, in only moderately comfortable metal seats, obviously a compartment for soldiers being airlifted from point to point when trouble arose. By straining, he could see out a small port. He closed his eyes briefly as the ground sank away.

DeRudder said mockingly, “And how, John Hawk, are your clannsmen going to defeat enemies that have devices such as this at their command?”

John cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”

Through the port, John could see the city loom before them. He had seen it before, from a distance and from the hills, but he had not realized its magnitude. And this was but one of the cities of the men from Beyond, nor did he know whether it was the largest. But certainly no town in the Loch Confederation began to rival it, or any other in all Caledonia, as far as he knew.

It was a walled city, situated along a river, and in the approximate center was a great cleared space, obviously landing ground for such craft as the skimmer in which they rode, and for great ships from space as well. Their own airborne vessel made for it, the pilot receiving landing instructions as they came in.

John attempted to disguise his relief that the trip through the air had ended without tragedy. Although in his time, he had scaled fairly formidable mountains, he had never liked the sensation of height.

They issued forth from the skimmer, and a small land car, supported by air cushions, came skittering up.

“Take us to the ad building,” DeRudder said to the enlisted man behind the controls.

“Yes, sir, Cornet.” The other saluted.

John followed the Sidonian into the back of the vehicle and surreptitiously held on, as they zoomed off.

The ad building, as DeRudder had called it, was to the far side of the field. There was an air of ultraefficiency about it never witnessed by the Aberdeen clannsman before. Caledonians were on the philosophical side when it came to even such matters as obeying sagamores and caciques during their raids. Obedience to a raid chief was a voluntary thing, not truly a requirement.

They left their vehicle, and John followed DeRudder into a large entrance. Two guards at the door snapped to attention, presenting their hand weapons in a salute. The cornet flipped them a semi-salute in return and strode on, unspeaking. John looked at them from the corner of his eye. Little men, by Caledonian standards, as all these Sidonians were little men; few indeed were as much as six and a half feet tall. However although he didn’t know the old saying of another frontier age, he was aware of the truth of it. “All men are created equal—Sam’l Colt made “em that way.” He would hate to see what these two could do to a raiding party, with their weapons, from a distance of half a mile or more.

Samuel DeRudder came up before a desk. The man behind it looked up, startled, and then began to scramble to his feet to salute.

DeRudder said, “At ease, Ensign.”

“Cornet DeRudder! We had given you up for lost. The detachment at—”

“I know, I know. I was the sole survivor. Clannsmen of the Loch Confederation took me prisoner.”

“You’re lucky to be alive, sir!” The ensign sank back into his chair.

DeRudder said, “Any developments since I’ve been gone?”

“Not especially.” The ensign ran a hand back through his hair, as though in despair. “Two more skimmers banged up. Both got back, though. A patrol was wiped out up in the hills where those Highland Confederation clannsmen are. It’s evidently worse up there than here, sir. Leading a patrol through those mist shrouded hills full of murderous seven foot howling barbarians is like trying to collect crocodiles in the Amazon Park by diving into the river and swimming after them. And air transport’s no good either. Those Highlanders are crack shots, and sitting in all those mist covered hills, in caves and such, where the detectors won’t spot them. Come down below the mist to take a look, and what do you know? You’re dead.”

Cornet DeRudder wasn’t amused. “Got any answers, soldier?”

“No, sir. I sure haven’t. Trying to pacify this wild bunch of cattle rustling, horse stealing, murderous pillagers is more of a job than we ever thought it was going to be. We thought it was kind of a police action. We raid them if they gave us any trouble. But that’s their favorite occupation raiding and being raided. It’s like saying, “Junior if you take any more of that cake, I’m going to make you eat a whole dish of ice cream.’ ”

The ensign could evidently see that the comet still wasn’t amused. He said, “Who’s this, sir?” He pulled a report blank toward him.

“John Hawk. A Caledonian from the former town of Aberdeen. He’s come to take a job with the company.”

The ensign frowned unhappily, taking in the looming former clannsman and war cacique.

I vouch for him,” DeRudder said impatiently. Yes, sir. It’s just that we’re kind of busy. Won’t be able to process him for several days.”

“I’ll take him into my quarters. He’s a cut above the ordinary, Ensign.”

“Yes, sir.” The ensign made some marks on the report. “Got it, sir.”

“And, Ensign, see to it that a new ID credit card is cut for me and sent up to my quarters. All my things were taken, of course. My ID number is M-16A-15.643.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do that immediately.”

John followed the other back through the entry. DeRudder waved a hand, summoning another of the small land cars. It came swooping up to them, and they climbed in.

As they progressed through the streets of New Sidon City, John again tried to hide the wide eyed element he was projecting. He had never seen so large a town; he had never seen such numbers of people; nor had he ever witnessed such a scurrying, such an amount of construction, such obvious purpose in what on the surface would have seemed utter confusion. A Caledonian town was on the slow moving side, even during the yearly festival of the Dail. DeRudder hid his amusement.

They darted down a side street and shortly to an apartment house. It was, John decided, at least the size of a longhouse on the ground floor alone. But then it towered some ten stories, as though one longhouse had been stacked atop another. For the moment, he could see no advantage to such an arrangement, for surely the aged and the very young would have difficulties climbing such a height.

He was glad he hadn’t said anything to that extent to DeRudder, since all was explained when they entered the gravity lift and were whisked upward. It had taken considerable courage for John to step into the shaft after the Sidonian, nor did he object when the other took his arm to steady him. There was no shame in not knowing how to conduct oneself in situations through which one had never been before.

The cornet’s apartments were on the top floor and so situated as to dominate the city. It came to John that this man must rank high among the chiefs of the Sidonians. As high, perhaps, as John had once ranked in the Loch Confederation.

DeRudder led him into what was obviously a living room, though furnished and decorated in a manner completely foreign to the Caledonian. He walked over to a piece of furniture set into the wall and said over his shoulder, “A drink? I suspect we could both use one.”

John was not particularly a drinker, but a good many things had happened to him within the past twenty-four hours. He said, “You have, perhaps, uisgebeatha?”

DeRudder said, “I have a descendent of your national beverage. We call it whiskey.” He selected a bottle from (he shelves, brought forth two glasses and poured. He handed one of them to John.

To the Caledonian warrior’s amazement, the contents were cool, although the surface of the glass seemed at room temperature.

“You want water or anything with that?” DeRudder said. John shook his head. “We have a saying in Aberdeen, that there is already too much water in uisgebeatha.”

DeRudder grunted. “It’s a saying that seems to have spread about a considerable portion of the galaxy, whatever the beverage involved.” He held his glass up. “To your successful adaptation to New Sidon City, John of the Hawks.”

John held his own glass up, but his words were bitter. “You forget that I am no longer John of the Hawks, but a clannless one.” However, he tossed the drink back.

He was prepared to snort and cough his throat clear, but then his eyes widened. He stared down into the glass. “It is uisgebeatha, without doubt,” he said. “But such uisgebeatha!”

DeRudder poured him another slug. “I told you that civilization has its advantages when it comes to material things. Among them, nip that can be appreciated and drunk for pleasure rather than just to get binged.”

He led the way into what was obviously, even to the Caledonian, a bedroom.

“You can stay here until you’re assigned quarters of your own. Over there’s the bathroom.” He made a grimace. “You could use a bath, if you don’t mind my saying so.” He looked at John with mild suspicion. “You wouldn’t have lice, would you?”

“Lice?”

“Or this planet’s equivalent. Little bugs that particularly get into your hair.”

“No,” John said. “Though it has been more difficult to maintain body cleanliness since you flamed us out of Aberdeen.

DeRudder looked at him. “I was opposed to that, John. Not that I wouldn’t have been in favor had I thought it would end the continual raids. However, I don’t believe you bring barbarians to heel by bombing their towns.”

“What is a barbarian?”

“I doubt if you’ll understand. It’s an ethnic period in man’s social evolution. You have savagery, barbarism, eventually, ah, civilization. All three periods are subdivided.”

“And what period is this city of New Sidon at, Samuel of the DeRudders?”

“That’s a good question. Come on in here, and I’ll show you how to work the plumbing. As I recall, you have running water and somewhat primitive plumbing in your long-houses, but not bathtubs, refreshers, or even showers, as we know them.” DeRudder hesitated and there was a wry element in his voice again. “New Sidon? I suppose you could say she’s at an early period of civilization, considering socioeconomic system and such.”

In the bath, DeRudder demonstrated hot water, cold water, needle sprays, soap and towels. John was astounded. He asked various questions, such as where the hot water was heated, where the refuse went, and finally just what soap was.

“I’d forgotten you didn’t have soap,” DeRudder muttered. “One simply presupposes soap. How in the world did your culture lose it, after the Inverness Ark crashed?”

“I don’t know,” John said defensively. “Evidently, we lost many things during the misty years that followed.”

“All right,” DeRudder said. “You’re on your own. I’ll get you some other clothes.”

“What is wrong with my clothing?”

“It’s dirty, among other things. Besides, this is New Sidon City, not Aberdeen. If you went around in those kilts, you’d stand out like a walrus in a goldfish bowl.”

“What’s a walrus and a goldfish bowl?”

“Never mind. I’ll be in the other room.”

John experimented with the bathing facilities. He hated to admit that they fascinated him as well as refreshed him beyond any point he could ever remember. There were many aspects to this way of life of the men from Beyond.

In the next room, he could hear Cornet DeRudder on some sort of communication device. The other was saying, “I want you to send up several outfits to try on a Caledonian. He’s about average size, perhaps a little bigger, say seven feet two, give or take an inch. No, he has no insignia yet. Hasn’t been processed. Just send standard United Mining coveralls.”

The voice broke off and after a few minutes spoke again. “Cornet Samuel DeRudder reporting.” The language then deteriorated into officialese that John couldn’t follow.

When he emerged from the bath, he found several outfits laid out on his bed. He scowled in distaste. Never in his life had he worn other than kilts, shirt and jerkin. Nor did the outfits that the men from Beyond clothed themselves in seem either meet or comfortable.

DeRudder called from the living room, “Could you hurry, John? I have to leave.”

The coveralls weren’t hard to figure out. John found the outfit that fitted him best and climbed into it. He wondered, a bit narrow eyed, what would happen to his field worker’s kilts. Possibly his benefactor, if such DeRudder could be thought, would dispose of them in some manner. For a moment, he hesitated.

In the living room, the other was seated in a chair, another drink in hand. He looked at the giant of a man thoughtfully. “Nobody’d ever take you for a Sidonian,” he in uttered.

There seemed no particular answer to that. DeRudder said suddenly, “John, I’m going to warn you. No tricks.”

“Tricks?”

“You’re unarmed and don’t know the town. There are police all over it. They are armed, and they keep track of Caledonians, particularly Caledonians whose clothes indicate that they aren’t long in town.”

John said bitterly, “I am as though in a different world, and you are the only person I know in it. I don’t even understand how to leave the building, did I wish to leave. What kind of trick did you expect of me, Samuel of the DeRudders?”

“Sam DeRudder,” the other sighed. “And you’re simply John Hawk, as of arrival in New Sidon. Come on into the dining-kitchenette and I’ll show you how to manipulate the autochef.”

As John followed him, he looked at the smaller and older man from the corner of his eye. “Why do you do all this, -Samuel… Sam DeRudder?”

DeRudder said, “I don’t know. Perhaps because as I told you, we need good men if we’re ever going to develop Caledonia. You’re a good man.”