Andre Norton - THE STARS ARE OURS

There are none of those left in this land now but " The chief hesitated before suddenly withdrawing his hand from Dard's and turning to his followers as if consulting them. Dad took the opportunity to translate to the others what he had learned.

"Survivors of Those Others," Kimber caught him up. "But not here?"

"No. Aaaatak says that his people will not come where they are. Wait-he has more to tell."

For Aaaatak was holding out his hand and Dard met it readily.

"My people now believe that you are not like those. You do not seem in body quite the same, your skin is of a different color," he drew his claw finger across the back of Dard's hand to emphasize his meaning, "and you have received us as one free people greets another. This those others do not-there is much hate and bitterness between us from the far past-and they always delight in killing.

"We have watched you ever since you first came out of the sky. Those others once traveled in the sky-though of late we have not seen their bird ships-and so we thought you of the same breed. Now we know that that is untrue. But we must tell you-be on your guard! For on the other side of the sea those others still live, even if their numbers are few, and there is a blackness in their minds which leads them to raise spears against all living things!

"Now," Dard had a strong impression that the merchief was coming to the main point, "we are a people who know much about the sea, but little of the land. We have learned that you are not native to this world, having fallen from the sky-but, did you not also say that you came from a place where you, too, were penned by enemies?"

Dard assented, remembering his statement to the first envoys.

"If you are wise you will not seek out those who would lay such bonds upon you again. For that is what those others will do. In this world they recognize no other rights or desires than are born of their own wills. We have warriors of our race who keep watch upon them secretly and bring news of their coming and going. Against their might-though they have lost much of their ancient knowledge-we have only our own cunning and knowledge of the sea. And what good is a spear against that which may kill at a distance? But you have mightier weapons. And should we two peoples join skills and hearts against them- But do you now say this to your Giver of Laws and other Elder Ones so that they may understand." He withdrew his hand again and left Dard in interpret.

"An alliance!" Tas Kordov caught the meaning of that offer. Hmm," he plucked his lower lip. "Better tell him- No, let me. I'll explain that we shall talk it over."

"What's all this 'bout Those Others?" Harmon demanded.

"Did they," he indicated the merpeople, "say that they're still here-the ones who lived in that city?"

"Not here-across the sea," Dard was beginning when Rogan broke in.

"That chieftain doesn't think much of them, does he?"

"He says they're enemies."

"They aren't his kind," Harmon pointed out. "And his people were their slaves once."

"We," Kimber said slowly, "have had some experience with slavery ourselves, haven't we? On Terra we'd have been in labor camps, if we hadn't been lucky-that is if we weren't shot down in cold blood. I have a pretty good memory of the last few years there."

Harmon sifted a palmful of sand from one hand to an- other. "Yeah, I know. Only we don't want to get into no local war."

That echoed after his voice died away. No entangling alliances to drag them into any war! Dard sensed the electric agreement which ran through them at that thought. Only Kimber, Santee, and maybe Kordov, did not wholly agree with Harmon.

Dard gazed down to the river bank. The merpeople had almost completed the harvest and were gathering up their possessions and slipping in family groups back to the sea. He wondered what Kordov would tell the chief.

Suddenly he could not stand the uncertainty any longer. He wanted to get away-to escape from the thought that perhaps it was going to start all over again-the insecurity- the constant guard duty against a hostile force.

According to the merchief Those Others were now across the sea-but would they remain there? Wouldn't this fertile, deserted land where they had once ruled draw them back again? And they would not accept new settlers kindly.

If the Terrans only knew more about them! Those Others had blasted their world. Dard remembered the callous cruelty of that barn in the valley. Raids, looting, the blasted city, the robot-controlled guns to shoot anything passing out of the air, the warnings of the merpeople.

He plodded across the sand to the inner valley, beading for the cliff house. Rogan had set up the projector the night before, and they had put the first of the discovered tapes in it. If something about the rulers of this world could be learned from those-this was the time to do it!

"Where're you bound for, kid?" Kimber fell into step.

"The cliffs." Dard was being pushed by the feeling that time was not his to waste, that he must know-now!

The pilot asked no more questions but followed Dard into the rock cell where Rogan had installed his machine. The boy checked the preparation made the night before. He turned off the light-the screen on the wall was a glowing square of blue-white and then the projector began to hum.

"This one of those rolls from the carrier?"

But Dard did not answer. For now the screen was in use. He began to watch...

"Turn it off! Turn that off!"

His frenzied fingers found the proper button. They were surrounded by honest light, clean red-yellow walls.

Kimber's face was in his hands, the harshness of his breathing filled the room. Dard, shaken, sick, dared not move. He gripped the edge of the shelf which supported the projector, gripped so tightly that the flesh under his nails turned dead white. He tried to concentrate upon that phenomenon-not on what he had just seen.

"What- what did you see?" he moistened his lips and asked dully. He had to know. Maybe it was only his own reaction. But-but it couldn't be! The very thought that only he had seen that led to panic-to a terror beyond bearing.

"I don't know... " Kimber's answer dragged out of him word by painful word. "It wasn't meant-ever meant for man-our kind of man-to see-"

Dard raised his head, made himself stare at that innocuous screen, to assure himself that there was nothing there now.

"It did something to me-inside," he half whispered.

"It was meant to, I think. But-Great Lord-what sort of minds-feelings-did they have! Not human-totally alien. We have no common meeting point-we never shall have-with that!"

"And it was all just color, twisting, turning color," Dard began.

Kimber's hand dosed about his wrist with crushing intensity.

"I was right," Dard did not feel the pain of that grip, "they used color as a means of communication. But- but-"

"What they had to say with it! Yes, not for us-never for us. Keep your mind off it, Dard. Five minutes more of that and you might not have been human-ever again!"

"We couldn't establish contact with them-with- "

"Minds that could conceive that? No, we can't. So that was what brought you here-you wanted to see if Harmon was right in his neutral policy? Now you know-with that we have no common ground. And we'll have to make the others understand. If we do meet Those Others-the result will undoubtedly be war."

"Fifty- three of us-maybe a whole nation of them left." Dard was still sick and shaken-sensing a deep inner violation.

First there had been the tyranny of Pax, which had been man-made and so understandable, in all its narrow cruelty, because it had been the work of human beings. And now this-which man dared not-touch!

Kimber had regained control of himself. There was even a trace of the familiar impish grin on his face as he said: