Butler, Octavia - Survivor

Alanna was startled to realize that Natahk was completely serious. He was not mocking now, in spite of his anger. He believed what he was saying. And, from his point of view, he was right. He knew of no reason for the Tehkohn not to move against the Missionaries. The trouble was, neither did Jules, really. He was simply, desperately, trusting Diut, trusting Alanna. If only he could hold that trust.

“With our weapons,” said Jules, “we would have been willing to face the Tehkohn.”

Natahk sighed. “With your weapons, you would have been willing to face anyone, including Garkohn. Your weapons helped to make you foolish. Without them, perhaps it will be possible for you to learn.” He looked from Jules to Alanna. “Begin teaching your father. Tell him what he is.”

“What he is?” asked Alanna frowning.

“What you are, what all Missionaries are now. Perhaps he will understand, hearing it from you.”

“Oh.” She knew what he wanted her to say, and the anger in his voice told her that it would do no good to protest. But her fear now that his plan might become a reality—that the Missionaries would be dragged away south before Diut could prevent it—made her protest anyway. “There is no need, Natahk. He knows. You have told him yourself.”

“Let him hear it again.”

She sat in silence, knowing that it was not only Jules that he was trying to reach. She was the actual collaborator, and Natahk knew it. She wondered whether he had some special punishment in mind for her. If he did, his sudden move now might give him the chance to carry it out.

“Alanna!”

Resigned, she spoke as though reciting. “We are a Garkohn people, united under your leadership with the other Garkohn of the valley.”

“Not nearly as united as you will be,” said Natahk. He looked at Jules. “Do you think I would accept a group of people so childishly weak that they fight only with the aid of weapons, and so without honor that they would use those weapons against other Garkohn?”

“All right,” said Jules. “You’ve stripped us. We can’t fight you. What happens now? Do we become your new judges?”

Natahk ignored his manner, answered the question seriously. “What happens after you are settled in the south is up to you, Verrick. You will become whatever you can become. It is possible that you will rouse yourselves and learn to fight, show the strength and stability you will need to become a fighter clan. Then, you may be judges of a kind, though with your blueless coloring, you will never command hunters. Or you might find your physical handicaps too great and become merely another nonfighter clan.”

Alanna spoke up. “You hope for the former and expect the latter, don’t you?”

He looked at her mildly. “Your minds are good. And we can use you either way. But we need fighters more than nonfighters.”

“What of our needs?”

“Your…Mission?”

“At the very least,” said Jules, “our Mission.”

“Fulfill it. Breed, multiply, teach your young the glories of their past—as long as you can remember them. And as long as you remember that you are a part of us, subject to the orders of the First Hunter. You must change your thinking toward us, Verrick. You must learn the ways of the other clans so that you can deal with them without giving offense—just as they must learn your ways. And you must accept the tie. Other than that, you are free to stay together and live as you wish.”

“You make it sound deceptively simple,” said Alanna.

“It is simple,” said Natahk. “You should be able to obey without trouble. Especially without the kind of trouble you have had. I think you know that Garkohn clans do not deal separately with non-Garkohn peoples. Especially not with proven enemies of the Garkohn.” He paused, looked from Alanna to Jules. “Do you both understand what would be done to a hunter or an artisan or a farmer caught working with the Tehkohn?”

“We understand,” said Alanna quickly. She was not eager to hear gruesome descriptions of Garkohn tortures. Diut had told her enough about them.

“I am not certain that Verrick knows, Alanna.” His tone made her wish that she had not spoken. Again he was going to make her recite—ostensibly for Jules. And again the threat was actually for her. “You will tell him,” Natahk ordered.

This time she was frightened enough not to argue. She spoke low-voiced to Jules. “A person caught working with an enemy tribe is painted red all over, and then he is blinded. They burn out his eyes. And they burn his hands until they can see that he will never use them again. Then they tie him with rope around his neck in the center of their dwelling, and wait to see whether or not he will live. If he lives, heals, they burn his legs. They burn behind the knee until the lower leg is useless. After that, he has to go on all fours if he wants to move. If he still lives, they keep him for sport, still tied by the neck like some special kind of animal, until someone gets too rough with him and he dies.” She shuddered. “I have heard that some of them live a very long time.”

“That part is wrong,” said Natahk. “You should have been told that they cease to live as soon as they betray their people.”

Jules looked at him with disgust. “All right, Natahk. You’ve made your point.”

“Have I? Do you understand that you have already earned this punishment—you and your daughter?”

Jules said nothing, sat very straight, waiting.

“Perhaps you were ignorant of the possible consequences of your betrayal, but you can see that Alanna was not. And I have no doubt that whatever contact you had with the Tehkohn was arranged through her.”

Alarmed, Jules cut him off. “Now just a moment, Natahk—”

“Be still!” Natahk did not raise his voice but Jules fell silent as though he had shouted. “She does not deny it. Why should you?”

Jules looked at Alanna and she looked back expressionlessly.

Natahk went on. “Your lives are mine. Only I can save them. Only I can deny justice to the twelve families who lost kinsmen last night.”

Jules watched him closely. “You intend to do this then. And this talk of torture is only to frighten us.”

“It is to warn you, Verrick. I will intercede for you now, but I will not do it again. And even now, I expect to be paid for the protection that I give. I expect you to accept yourselves as Garkohn, and then turn and help your people to do the same. I want your word that you will do this.”

“You want too much,” said Jules.

“So? Even in exchange for your life?”

“Shall I give you my word that I’ll betray my people in exchange for my life? Would you believe me?”

Natahk whitened slightly. “What bargain shall we make then, Verrick? What will you give me in exchange for your life?”

Jules watched him silently for several seconds. “Nothing,” he said finally. “I’ll go on doing what I have to do. I can’t promise anyone more than that.”

The white went out of Natahk’s body and his normal green glowed with the intensity of his emotions. “You choose death then?”

Jules tensed. “If that’s the only alternative.”

Natahk stared at him for several seconds. Then he smiled. “I have heard Alanna speak this way. She was lying. I think you are lying too.”

Jules shrugged.

“You Missionaries find it very easy to say you would rather die than do this or that. But you won’t die, Verrick. And you will learn, to obey me. Because each time you disobey, I will kill one of your people.”

“What!”

“I will begin with Alanna.”

Jules turned to look at Alanna.

“Relations between us were much simpler before she was returned to you,” said Natahk. “Without her, they will become simple again. And you, remembering her, will become much more tractable.”