James White - The First Protector

Ma'el inclined his head. 'The situation would not be the same," he said. "There are natural limits to procreation. Short-lived species like yours breed freely and often in order to compensate for the natural losses from old age, accident, and disease. By comparison the Taelon are immensely long-lived. That being so, there is an evolutionary imperative which limits reproduction so that the resources of the planet and its population will remain in balance. Consequently the incidence of birthing is very low, in fact, rare, and the arrival of a newborn Taelon is a cause for planet-wide celebration.

"As you will already have observed," he went on, "this shell of flesh and organic sensors that I hold about myself in human company has features that do not register subtle changes of emotion. However, as I have said earlier, I am truly pleased for you, Sinead, and I offer my congratulations to you both."

Sinead was smiling again. Declan tried to control his feelings and the facial expression that would have revealed his growing discontent with the situation and the problem that was developing. He needed time to think it through.

Ten days later he still had not found an answer that satisfied him completely, and it was not a time to think about anything but his immediate surroundings while he forced his aching mind to remember all that Ma'el had told Sinead and himself about the principal local gods-including the strange fact that they were constantly at war with each other so that their worshippers had to walk a careful spiritual path between them-lest an unguarded word cost the visitors their lives.

There was Quetzalcoatl, the Winged Serpent, of whom it was said that he had journeyed to the underworld to collect the bones from which he had fashioned mankind after sprinkling them with his own blood. His sacrificial offerings of human meat were distributed among his worshippers and in particular to barren women. His rival, Tezcatlipoca, the ever young and virile Creator of the Universe, was god of the night sky, sorcery, and all warriors. Considering the long-axe he carried at all times, it was assumed that Declan might be of his worshippers. And then there was Huitzilopochtl, the manifestation of the Sun who continually battled against the forces of night and darkness. He required, as he did today, the regular sacrifice of human hearts and blood that gave him strength.

Declan did not like being present at living human sacrifices, and Sinead certainly did not approve of the practice although it did enable her to observe the precise and wholly admirable surgical skill used to remove the still-beating human heart for consumption by the high priest, and later to acquire some of the instruments employed during the operation for her own use in future curative procedures when, she hoped, the patient would stand a greater chance of survival.

Neither of them could understand why the sacrificial victims were so happy to die in this fashion.

Moving in stately and unhurried fashion a few paces behind and below Ma'el, and surrounded by an escort whose priestly robes almost put the sun to shame, Sinead and he climbed the broad, stone stairway toward the sacrificial altar atop the great Temple of the Sun whose massive pyramid dominated the Aztec capital city of Teotihuacan.

They had been traversing one of the broad terraces that broke their long ascent to the top, and Sinead's attention had been on the view of the city and jungle all around them, when an uneven section of paving caused her to stumble. Immediately Declan's hand reached out to steady her.

Sinead turned off her collar translator so that the others around them would not comprehend the words, then said irritably, "Stop that. I'm with child, not a cripple, and I'm supposed to be a boy." She smiled suddenly. "As yet I'm not even a fat boy."

She was silent while they continued their stately climb to the level of the darkly stained altar stone with its array of shining bronze cutting tools and the three sacrificial victims, smiling happily and with eyes dulled by the potent native drugs, then she said in a voice whose softness could not conceal its anger, "I wish this bloody foolishness was over."

Three days later they left Teotihuacan to travel in a wide curve to the northeast that would bring them ultimately to the hills, lakes, and forests of the Algonquin whose nation spread over the north continent's eastern seaboard. At Ma'el's direction they maintained a low altitude and a speed that would enable them properly to view the beauties of the intervening mountain ranges, deserts, forests, and rolling grasslands and the vast herds of buffalo that covered them with uneven blankets of moving fur. He did not say it in so many words but the implication was that he wanted Sinead to see as much of her own beautiful world as possible before the circumstances following the impending birth confined her to Hibernia.

That had been the matter uppermost in Declan's mind since he had learned of her condition. Now he had finally come to a decision which might displease both Sinead and Ma'el, and which he would have to make known to them as soon as possible and in a fashion that would cause the least hurt to both. Not for the first time he wished that he possessed the silver-tongued diplomacy of Brian, but he knew that a few simple words would have to suffice if he could only force them through the cowardly barricade of his teeth.

They were seated cross-legged by the dying cooking fire in the manner of the tribe, Ma'el said, whom they would be meeting on the morrow. It was important that they know and understand the beliefs and customs of the Algonquin who as persons were friendly and warm-hearted but as a nation warlike. In a voice that came as close to being enthusiastic as the old man was capable, he went on to tell them of the Kitcki Manitou, the Great Spirit and most powerful of all the Manitous, the Father of Life who was never created, and the source of all good things. The Great Spirit dwelt in Heaven and was above all other powers. He was master of light and was manifest in the sun. He was the breath of life and, as the wind, moved everywhere. The Algonquin believed that there was another great spirit, Mich-abo called the Great Hare, who was the father of the race and he created water, fish, and the great deer… There was much more.

Sinead sat close beside Declan in the darkness, not speaking but holding his hand and often squeezing it in their shared impatience to be out of the night breeze and under the blankets where there was a very pleasant way to keep each other warm. That was the other reason why Declan decided to interrupt.

"Ma'el," he said, "you have said that when our visit to the Algonquin is completed, we will return to Hibernia for a time. For how long a time? What other visits do you plan, and when?"

There must have been something in his tone that worried Sinead because she gripped his hand again. He also felt the old man's eyes on him in spite of not being able to see them in the darkness.

"After Hibernia," Ma'el replied, "I have to pay a final visit to Cathay, and then retrieve the wagon we buried in the sand by the camel track. It contains devices that are necessary for the completion of my work. But these matters are not of great urgency and they will not require the presence of both of you…"

"Wherever you take him," Sinead broke in firmly, her grip on his hand tightening, "it will be with me."

"… And they can wait for an opportune time," he went on. "But there is concern in your voice. What is the reason?"

Declan took a deep breath. "We will do as you bid us gladly," he said, "and with grateful hearts. But we will do it together, and sooner rather than later. As a father to be, it is my responsibility to provide sustenance and a safe home for my family. But that home… " his voice became very serious, "… should not be a deep and sunless hole in the ground, a tomb shared with the bodies of hundreds of slain, even though their deaths were not intended. That is why I shall make proper provision for my wife and child, and if I am fortunate our children and, in the fullness of time, their children as well.