Гарри Гаррисон - Planet Of No Return

“I’ll join you. It’s been a long day for both of us. How did your question session go?”

“Fine, if you don’t consider the bug bites. Right to the top, that’s right, thanks. My, that feels delicious going down. The women have a sub-culture of their own, arranged strictly by rank, and a wonderful trove of stories as well. There appears to be a myth or a mnemonic chant for everything you could possibly name. It’s a complete oral history. I’ll take a recorder next time. This will be priceless material for the anthropologists. Now tell me what you found out.”

“Very little. The Hunters talked to me easily enough, but only about killing this animal or the other, or about their own great prowess in the chase. You can well imagine the sort of thing. Other than these topics they have no personal opinions. They are just walking collections of taboos. Everything they do or think is governed by this system.”

“It’s the same with the women, at least in their physical life. But they escape into myth very easily, and that activity seems to be totally outside the taboo areas. Though I have a feeling that the stories are probably taboo for men. Did you hear anything about the creation myth?”

Brion shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“It’s interesting because it might very well be a simplified version of a true history, something that is still remembered, but only in mythical form. The story says that at one time the people lived like gods, that they moved over the ground without using their feet, and even flew through the air with our having wings like the flying lizards. In those time the people were wrong because they treasured many things that were made of ckt’t — have you run across the word?”

“Yes, and I know what it is. Metal. From the way the word was used I suspected what it meant, but I had to lose one of my subjects to find out that my theory was right. I made him look at the transceiver and the mere sight of it turned him into a bundle of blind fear. He actually ran headlong into a tree as he was trying to get away from the thing.”

“Better and better. The historical myth goes like this. The ancient people who treasured metal thought themselves gods, therefore the true gods destroyed them and their metal, and the metal places where they lived. Then the gods made them go out and live like the animals until they became purified. So if the people continue to live in this manner they will be pure again and will be admitted to a chl’t, I translated the word as paradise which is probably right. Meanwhile people must suffer in this world, obeying all of the taboos that enable them to live in the proper manner so that one day they will be able to enter paradise.”

“That’s tremendous!” Brion said, jumping to his feet and pacing back and forth, unable to sit still with excitement. “You are amazing, you’ve done a wonderful job. Every bit of what you say fits — if these people are exactly what they appear to be. Refugees from a global holocaust. They were invaded, or were defeated in war, and had to flee their cities. They saw their armies and war machines destroyed. So now they blame their destruction on the gods. It’s a lot easier to do that then admit defeat.”

“A fine theory, professor,” Lea said, draining her glass and smacking her lips. She poured herself another one. “There is just one small thing wrong with it that I can see. Where are the victorious and conquering armies now? All the evidence we have seen indicates that this war is still being fought.”

“Yes,” Brion said, sitting down glumly. “I hadn’t thought of that. So now we really know little more than we did when we started.”

“Don’t despair. We know a lot. For one thing I explored our underground city theory, and all I got were empty stares. If the civilization on this world is underground these people don’t know a thing about it.”

“Which appears to be just about as much as we know. I’m beginning to think that we have hit a dead end.”

“Well you may have, Ravn Above Ravn, with your Hunters and fighters and all that big machismo stuff.” She hiccupped sweetly and touched the back of her hand to her mouth, smiling. “We girls had a more sensible conversation, as befits the more attractive and intelligent sex. As I am sure I told you, all metal is taboo, and machines made of metal are the most taboo of all — as we discovered out the hard way when they spotted us near a metal flying ship. So, therefore, doesn’t it stand to reason that the most impossibly taboo place of all would be the place where the machines come from. Do you follow me so far?”

“Yes, of course. Do you really need another glass of vodka?”

“Shut up. Now wouldn’t it be very nice if we knew where the machines came from?”

“Of course, but …”

“But no buts. You see, I know. They told me how to find this place. So all we have to do now is go there — and the mystery will be solved.”

She admired his expression, all hanging jaw and staring eyes. Then she closed her own eyes and quietly went to sleep.

Brion had an almost overwhelming desire to shake Lea awake, to force her to give some explanation of just what she had been talking about. He resisted. It had been a long and exhausting day for her; she must have kept going on nerve alone. When he went to put the bottle of vodka away he saw that she had drunk only a small amount. It was fatigue, not drink, that had dropped her in her tracks. Although the night was warm, as always, he spread the sleeping bag over her to guard against any chill.

What could she have meant — the place where the machines come from? She must have been referring to war machines; they had certainly hadn’t seen any peaceful machinery since they had arrived on this planet. But how could there possibly be a single place where all the military hardware originated? Not one source for both sides. No, the idea was impossible. If a place where machines originated really existed, it would have to be for one side or another. And even that sounded crazy. Could all the war machines on side or the other issue from a single location? This might be possible if they were coming out of underground factories. That certainly gave credence to the theory of an underground civilization.

Perhaps there were not just one, but two armed groups, both of them — staying securely below ground. While they sent their armies out to engage in battle on the surface. But what possible explanation could there be for actions of this kind? He shook his head. He was tired and could think of no solutions to any of this at the moment. Yet there had to be an answer, the machines and the warfare were certainly real enough.

Brion stood and looked around the crude encampment. All activity has ceased with sunset. The women were inside the cave and the Hunters were settling down to sleep in their accustomed places before the cave mouth. He looked for Ravn and found him sitting apart from the others, turning the necklace of finger bones over and over in his hands. This might be a good time to question him. Lea could be watched at the same time to make sure that she was undisturbed. Ravn would surely know something about this mysterious place of the machines.

An emotion of contentment and sleep pulsed over the settlement; anyone who threatened Lea would radiate fear, hatred, and would be instantly detected. Brion checked her again, she was still deeply asleep, then made his way through the recumbent figures to the Ravn.

“We will talk,” he said. Ravn looked up, startled, clutching the necklace to him. The quick spurt of surprise was instantly replaced by cold hatred. This one would have to be watched. Always.

“It is late. The Ravn is tired. In the morning…“