Mack Reynolds - The Space Barbarians

“How do you know?”

“The size of them. The shortest must be seven feet. We don’t grow ’em that size. That lead one in orange might be done up like a monk or guru, but he’s local.”

Sublieutenant Marsten said, “A lot of these people have taken soma, Warrant. Quite a few have even studied at the pagoda in New Sidon City.”

However, he unsnapped his holster and loosened the handgun. Warrant Venizelou slipped his own weapon from his shoulder and held it at a nonchalant ready.

Marsten called, “All right. You’re near enough. What do you want? This is a military post, and civilians are not allowed.”

The orange clad one continued to amble toward them, as though he hadn’t heard—or didn’t care. There was a dour quality in his face, but superimposed upon it was a gentle meekness, characteristic of one who has taken the hallucinogen soma. The others brought up the rear.

The warrant raised his weapon to the ready and trained it. “You heard the sublieutenant,” he snapped. “One more step, and I cut you in two.”

The orange clad one came to a halt and said mildly, “We walk in the path of Lord Krishna and hence know no evil.” He looked at the sublieutenant. “Have you taken your Soma, my son?”

The sublieutenant said impatiently, “I am a soldier; obviously not.”

The monk said, “That is true, my son. He who is of the military has not accepted, as yet, the teaching of Lord Krishna, ‘thou shalt not harm.’ ”

Marsten said, “What is it that you want, guru?”

The other said, “I am David and come from the town of Nairn, where I am in charge of the Shrine of Kalkin.” He turned and indicated the four men who followed him. All of these were attired in black robes, and all kept their peace. They were typical Caldonian clannsmen, save that y wore no kilts, nor did they carry claidheammors at their sides. “These are acolytes, desirous of taking their soma and entering into oneness with Lord Krishna.” All right. Very praiseworthy, I’m sure. But what are you doing here? Civilians aren’t allowed in the vicinity of military posts, thank Krishna for that!”

“My son,” the Guru David said chidingly, “you must not take the Lord Krishna’s name in vain, for it is he who leads us along the path to the Shrine of Kalkin.”

Warrant Venizelou waggled the muzzle of his gun back and forth in a negative gesture. “You heard the sublieutenant, guru. What’d you want here? You better turn around and git on back to Nairn. Out here you got a good chance to get picked up by some raiding party, and most these clannsmen don’t go for none of you people that’s taken soma.”

The monk looked at him in gentle reproof. “When you have taken your soma, my son, all evil will depart you, and no longer will you even dream of harming any living thing.”

“I know, I know,” Venizelou grunted. “But what’ya want here?”

The orange clad monk looked back to the sublieutenant. “My son, when the Guru Mark left Nairn to spread the message of Lord Krishna elsewhere, in my care he put a supply of soma sufficient for the needs of all in Nairn who might wish to enter into the Shrine of Kalkin. However, two weeks past, a raiding party from Dumbarton entered into the city and seized and destroyed the sacred soma. These four acolytes”—he gestured at his followers—“wish to follow the footsteps of Lord Krishna but have so soma.”

“Why come to me?” Marsten said. “This is a military post, not a pagoda. The nearest pagoda is in New Sidon.”

“But my son, that is many miles from here, and we have not even horses. Since so many of the people of Nairn have taken soma, the raiding parties, unresisted, have driven off all the horses, and we lack transportation. Is it not possible for you to communicate with the pagoda and have a fresh supply of holy soma sent to us?”

The sublieutenant thought about it. He said finally. “My detector indicated metal on you. What is it?”

“Metal?” the monk said blankly. Then, “Ah.” He looked at his four followers in mild reproof. “The acolytes have not as yet taken their soma and hence have fears unknown to the initiates. They carry skeans, so as to fight off the wild dogs.”

“Wild dogs,” Venizelou said. “That’s a new one. What wild dogs?”

The guru said, “My son, long years past when the Inverness Ark , which carried the first settlers to Caledonia, crashed, there were aboard various life forms from Mother Earth, including pets. In the misty years that followed the crash, many of these took to the wilderness and multiplied. Today there are both wild dogs, who run in packs, and wild cats, descended from the common house cat.”

The sublieutenant said, “Warrant, stay here with the guru and his converts. I’ll put in a report on this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marsten turned and strode off for the building that housed his detachment. On the roof, both laser rifles were trained on the small group from Nairn. At the windows, the four enlisted men off-duty were staring out at the newcomers. The lieutenant disappeared inside.

The guru’s eyes went about the vicinity.

“I do not believe I have been here before,” he said. He took in the considerable wreckage. “There was disaster?”

“Kinda,” Warrant Venizelou said. “This usta be some kind of village of herdsmen, like. When the cornet based us here, these wild clansmen were dullies enough to try’n give us a hard time. So we had to flame the resta the houses down.”

There was infinite hurt in the face of the monk. “You mean this was a small town and you have driven the folk away?”

“That’s one way of puttin’ it, friend. But it’s the only way of dealing with these people. They’re born bandits. They don’t work. Or anyway, just enough to barely get by. They spend full time stealing from each other. They’ll spend a week sitting behind a rock on a hillside, waiting to get a potshot at their neighbor, when they oughta be out plowing or whatever.”

“But… my son, this was their town.”

The warrant was contemptuous. “They couldn’t get it into rough their empty skulls that we were going to be based here if they wanted it that way or not. We had to flame down half the clannsmen the first day. The rest took to the hills. For a while we let the women and kids stay, but you couldn’t even trust them. Finally, we cut the houses down, except for the one we’re in, and sent the rest of them packing.”

“But where do they live now?”

Venizelou shrugged. “Up in the hills somewheres, I guess. From time to time they pull some trick. Used to come especially at night. Guess they didn’t know our detectors can see as well at night as day. But we still can’t get any distance from the base without running the chance of being cut off or sniped at.”

Sublieutenant Marsten returned. “All right,” he said. “I called New Sidon City. The skimmer was coming out today, anyway with stores. A supply of soma is being sent. Come on into the longhouse. You must be hungry.” Silently, the five followed him.

Warrant Venizelou slung his weapon back over his shoulder and brought up the rear.

Inside the commandeered longhouse, the sublieutenant led them to the living quarters and gave instructions to one of the enlisted men to get food and drink for the visitors. The acolytes quietly took seats, but the orange robed monk was obviously intrigued, in a horrified way, with the military establishment. The former clann longhouse had been converted into a barracks and military spick and span was the order.

The sublieutenant, somewhat proud of his first command, was not averse to showing him around, and the follower of Krishna was properly impressed by such devices as the autostove and properly shocked by the weapons.