Гарри Гаррисон - Planet Of No Return

“Now.” There was no warmth in Brion’s voice; he reached out and took hold the necklace for a moment, instantly aware of the man’s spurt of fear. “You will do as I say. I will be obeyed at all times.” He released the necklace and sat down. Ravn instantly pulled it over his head with shaking hands.

“Who am I?” Brion said. Ravn turned away, looking behind him, around, anywhere except at Brion.

“Look at me, piece of dirt. Who am I? Give me my name.”

The words emerged with utmost reluctance, dripping with venom. “You are … Ravn Above Ravn.”

“That is true. Now you will answer my questions in the same true way. You have seen machines?” A reluctant nod of the head. “Good. What kind of machines have you seen?”

“It is forbidden to talk of machines.”

“It is not forbidden to talk of them to the Ravn Above Ravn. Have you seen machines that flew in the air? Good, you have. What did these machines do?”

“What machines always do. With loud noises they killed other machines, then they were killed in turn. It is always that way. That is what they do.”

“Have you ever seen a machine that did not kill other machines?”

“Machines kill machines, that is what they do.” The question was an impossible one to answer. It was obvious from his expression that he thought Brion was a fool for even asking it.

“All machines kill machines,” Brion echoed the other’s words. Then went on in the same quiet voice. “Now you will tell me — where do the machines come from?”

The words had an instant and dramatic affect on Ravn. He shuddered all over and fear replaced all his other emotions on the instant.

“You will tell me,” Brion said, leaning forward and clashing his two great fists together; they impacted with a solid thud. “Tell me now!”

There was no escape. At this moment Ravn was more afraid of those fists than he was of the taboo of speaking. He pointed over his shoulder, but this did not satisfy Brion. In the end Ravn had to speak, stammering the words in a hoarse whisper.

“It is that way. Many days walking. It is there. The Place with No Name.”

“You have been there?”

“Only a Ravn may visit this place. The Old Ravn showed me when I was young.”

“Then you will show me since I am Ravn Above Ravn. We will go when the sun rises.”

“It is forbidden …”

“It is forbidden to refuse me anything.” He reached out to the cringing man and closed his hands about the scrawny throat. “Will you die now?” Brion forced hatred into his voice. The threat had to be real: only by deadly fear could he control the Ravn. When there was no answer he began to close his fingers with steadily increasing pressure.

Ravn gasped out the reluctant words. “We go … when the sun rises.”

It was enough. Brion released him and returned to Lea’s side without another word. She was still deeply asleep, snoring lightly, and he tried to emulate her example. But he was too aware of the emotional flow of the people around him, their spurts of sharp emotion during dreaming. And the fear and hatred hovering just below the surface at all times. In the end he realized that sleep was going to be impossible. He lay back and looked up at the stars, letting his sense of awareness reach out on all sides.

Lea woke soon after dawn. He gave her some water, then he told her what he had discovered. She nodded in agreement.

“There has to be something in it. The way the women talked, this place seemed to be very real to them, not just another historical myth.”

“We will just have to go there and see for ourselves. There has to be something out there. Ravn was certainly reluctant enough about leading me there. He took a lot of convincing. He was afraid of this place of the machines as he was of me.”

“Do you think he was afraid enough to run away? I don’t see him anywhere.”

Lea was right; Ravn had vanished during the night. When Brion woke the Hunters they seemed to be as puzzled about his disappearance as he was. They searched fitfully, some of them even scouting down the trails leading from the encampment. But in the end they all returned with negative reports. Ravn had vanished without trace.

“Damn!” Brion said. “We’ll never find this place without him. I should have tied him down — he could be miles away by now.”

“I don’t think so,” Lea said. “In fact I have the very strong sensation that he is a lot closer than you imagine.” She looked very smug as she stirred the caffeine extract into her cup of water, then sipped it as it began to steam.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me just what in hell you are talking about!”

“Temper, temper. Shouting will only raise your blood pressure and get you nowhere.” She sipped daintily while he fumed with impatience. “Now that’s better. While you men have been stamping around everywhere I have been watching the women. They are very afraid of something — and they are staying inside the cave, every last one of them.”

“Could he be hiding in there? Isn’t it taboo for men to go inside with the women?”

“Men, yes. The Ravn no. He even has a cache of some kind in the rear. Want me to take a look?”

“No, that’s too dangerous. My new title should get me inside as well.”

The Hunters watched with mild interest as he strode towards the cave entrance — but the women retreated in panic. “I am Ravn Above Ravn!” he shouted as he bent his head to get under the overhanging ledge.

Brion blinked in the semi-darkness inside, waiting while his eyes slowly grew accustomed to it. The cave was really just a fault in the rocks, about sixty feet deep. There were cries of fear and sobbing from the women who were now all huddled together, with the children, to the back of the cave. They wailed and moved aside as he approached them. Without exception they all of them retreated to his left. Interesting. Brion went to the right, towards a stinking heap of uncured lizard skins piled high in a niche. Skins, nothing else. Or had he seen a slight movement in the darkness. He knelt and groped under the fetid mass — then shouted with delight.

Ravn wailed and slobbered as he was pulled out by the ankle, dragged clear of the skins and rolled over on the ground. Brion looked down at him, feeling a slight pity for the grovelling man. But only for an instant, as he became aware of a throb of pain in his hand, where he had knocked the healing stump of his index finger against the rock floor of the cave. All trace of sympathy vanished with this and he nudged Ravn with his toe.

“Stand up, cowardly piece of filth. We start the long walk today.”

Most of the morning had passed before Ravn declared himself ready to leave. There were rituals to be done, a bracelet of bones to be fetched from its hiding place in the cave, food had to be gathered. Urged on by Brion he eventually ran out of excuses and reluctantly started down the path — only to stop suddenly when he saw that Lea was following them. He waved his hands with agitation.

“No women! Women not allowed. Only Ravn can go. No hunters, no dirt women!”

“This woman comes with us only part of the way so she can carry our food for us. She will not go to the Place With No Name. She will be sent back long before that. Now — lead the way.”

Dragging his feet and proceeding with the greatest reluctance, Ravn started down the hillside again. Brion and Lea followed behind him on the path through the trees, until they were well out of sight of the encampment. Brion stopped then and took the heavy bundle from Lea, slinging it across his own back. She rubbed her sore muscles. “Only dirt woman carry bundle. How come big Hunter carry big bundle? This very bad for taboo.”

“Do you want it back?” _