CHAPTER FORTY

Yobu remembered more than the younger people did of the world that had existed before times of Terror, when fire and stones rained upon the land, floods roared through the mountains, and the Long Night followed. He remembered the cattle he had tended on the vast estate of a government official who spent most of his time away in the city or out of the country, and life in the shanty village where the domestics and hired hands dwelt.

He had never been to the distant city, but the things he’d heard and seen on the TVs hadn’t struck him as appealing. Yes, there was probably more money to be made there, but that had been an obsession of younger men who wanted the chance to change their lives, or to just buy some women, clothes, liquor, and excitement from time to time. But who at Yobu’s age would have wanted to change their life, if they were reasonably content and were provided the basics to get by, and then have to start spending the little time they had left having to learn new things all over again?

The coming of the Sky People had reminded him of other things too, that had faded after the more recent and violent happenings. Their machines brought back pictures of the trucks on the road that went to places he had never heard of; the work going on at their base to the north was like the construction scenes he’d been to on occasions. But then the killing that he’d witnessed, and the appearance of an armed faction assuming power over the rest brought alive again the feelings of anger and helplessness he’d harbored toward the strangers who had built their palaces on the land that had been his people’s since the gods of the old legends created it and gave it to them, and enclosed them behind wire fences watched by armed soldiers. For a while after the Terror, he had thought that perhaps the gods were angry too at what men were making of their gift of the world, and had swept it all away. But nothing had changed. It was beginning again, already, and even Sky People who went to other worlds were unable to stop it. It troubled him.

He stood on the steps of the porch in front of Rakki’s hut, watching the warriors board the large plane that had just landed—it didn’t really resemble the planes he remembered, but he had no other term for it—and the smaller one that had brought Jorff, Leisha, and the two soldiers earlier. All were going: Rakki, Enka, Sims, and the fifteen most proficient with the guns, which meant just about all who were not youths. So Rakki would get his revenge over Jemmo at last and become ruler of the caves. And his side of the bargain would be to allow his people to be trained and recruited for war. War against whom? It could only be against the other Sky People at the base, or more who were to follow. Rakki’s warriors would be used as expendables in fighting the quarrels of others—just as it had always been before.

And what had Yobu done to stop it? Nothing. He had encouraged it. He had exhorted the warriors as he had been expected to, and told them they would find glory and show their valor in building a bigger, stronger tribe that would one day become a great nation. Anything else would have incurred Rakki’s anger, and Yobu feared that the most, for he had seen what it brought upon others. But inside, he felt shame and contempt for himself. It wasn’t those like Rakki who were responsible for injustices and the suffering that these things brought. Like any others, they were simply organisms following their nature. It was those like Yobu, who either helped them through fear, or else did nothing. And were they not following their own inner nature too?

The doors of the two aircraft closed, and the engines started, sending up swirls of dust. The onlookers, meaning just about the entire female and juvenile population that was left, crowded to the side of the settlement to watch. The sounds intensified, and the smaller craft lifted off first to make a slow circuit west above the lake. The larger craft rose to join it as came back over, and the two departed toward the southeast, climbing slowly. The onlookers watched in awe until the two dots were lost against the overcast, and then dispersed to return to their various chores. Yobu turned back to some clay he was mixing. Leisha had shown him some basics of writing, and he was looking for a more permanent way of preserving the markings she had made for him on pieces of paper. Calina, who had been watching the warriors’ departure from behind him, was by his table, looking down at them.

“Clay turns hard like rock when it dries,” he explained. “I thought we could make the marks in it and keep them from being lost.”

“I can help you with this, Yobu,” she said distantly.

“You? . . . You know the shapes and how to join them?”

“I did once, a little… when I was very young. I had forgotten. Like you, I am remembering things.”

Yobu looked at her. “When you were a child…” A new possibility that he hadn’t thought of opened up in his mind. “We could teach the children too.” But even as he spoke the words, the flame died from his eyes.

“It would not be permitted,” Calina said, voicing it for him. “Rakki would not let others with an ability he doesn’t possess make him look inferior. And he would not have the patience to sit for many hours and learn. His way is for things that are swift and sure.”

She was right, of course. Yobu nodded and sighed. Calina looked away suddenly. A commotion was coming from somewhere outside. They moved to the rail at the edge of the porch and looked out. Something was happening below, somewhere by the creek. They moved out from the hut to where they could see. A tall figure, walking unsteadily, was coming up the slope from the direction of the lake. It was one of the Sky People; but Yobu had never before seen one of them looking like this. He was dirty and disheveled, with eyes white and staring from a blackened face, his clothing reduced to tatters and covered in mud. Several of the women who were near began following behind and to the side of the stranger, moving warily, keeping their distance. Three of the youths ran toward him with spears, conscious of their self-imposed status as the settlement’s new guardians. They menaced and shouted warnings, but the figure kept coming until he was a few yards from Yobu and Calina.

He uttered some words but Yobu didn’t understand. The stranger pointed to himself and gestured back the way he had come, then showed two fingers. “Two… Another.” He made the same gestures again along with more that involved showing both hands and making waving motions in the air.

“There is another,” Calina said. “I think he’s saying the other can’t move. He must be hurt or sick.”

Yobu’s first thought was that another aircraft had come down short, but he quickly realized that couldn’t be so: the other Sky People would have known and not just left in the way they had. The figure was acting as if it knew Yobu. Yobu looked more closely. After some effort, he realized it was the one who had faced Rakki at the first meeting with the Sky People, and who Rakki had thought was the “head god.” From what Yobu had seen, he was not one of those who had given Rakki the guns. So had he come here as a friend or an enemy?

“He was here before,” Calina said. “It is the one they call Keene.” The Sky Man nodded at the sound of his name.

“Yes, I recognize him.” But still Yobu wavered, unsure what to do.

“Put down your spears and help,” Calina said to the boys. “Can’t you see he can barely stand?” Then she called to Engressi, a female of Uban, who had gone with the warriors. “Get four of the others. Bring vines and skins, thick branches to use as poles, and one of the nets used for fishing. Tell Geel to heat more water and prepare food.”

While Engressi ran to and fro, carrying out her directions, Calina nodded to Keene and pointed back the way he had indicated. He turned and began leading the way, Calina and Yobu beside him, the boys following, and a small crowd building up behind.

Keene led them down along the creek, across the head of the ravine, and from there over the rise to descend to the inlet from the lake. Keene’s companion was among the rocks a short distance above the water, propped among packs and oddments that they had carried, and covered by padded blankets. Keene conveyed that he was called Charlie. He was feverish with sickness and reacted dully to the arrival of the newcomers, as if hardly aware of their presence. There was no sign of an aircraft or other kind of vehicle by which they might have gotten to that place. Since it was near the water, Yobu could only conclude that they had floated there somehow.

Calina and Engressi used stone blades to cut the rags from Charlie’s leg and examined his wound. It looked as if it had been pierced by a thorn of the fangleaf bush, which also grew in the swamplands that Rakki had come from, and which his warriors used to tip their arrows. A preparation of certain leaves would draw the poison and ease the swelling, Calina said. But he was at the time of decision already, and whether or not the measure would succeed, only time would tell. They bound the wound while others constructed a litter from the net that they had brought, tied between two poles that could be carried on shoulders. Then, with followers collecting the packs and other things that were there, the party returned to the settlement.

They took Charlie to Geel’s hut, where the women were already heating water for cooking. Calina began crushing leaves, while others cleaned and bathed the wound. But Keene, after taking a few morsels of food and rinsing the worst of the grime from his face, refused to rest and be still. Through signs and gestures, he asked where Rakki and the warriors who had left with him were going and why. Yobu didn’t feel it was his place to disclose anything, and pretended not to understand. Keene became more agitated, demanding again to know where Rakki had gone. Yobu grew more obstinate. Calina kept herself to organizing what the women were doing and stayed out of it.

And then Keene noticed two small children, a boy and a girl, playing near the doorway of the hut while their mothers were busy inside. They were using a sharp, bright object to dig stones out of the ground. Keene called to them, and they looked up. He held out an open hand, indicating that he wanted to see what it was. They were unsure and looked to Yobu for guidance. “Let the Sky Man see it,” he told them. The boy, who was holding it, gave it to Keene. It was a piece of twisted metal, apparently torn from something. Keene examined it, turning it over in his hands. Evidently, it was something important. He looked up, asking again by signs where it had come from. Yobu didn’t know. Keene gestured toward the outside, pointing up at the ridge above Joburg.

Suddenly, Yobu realized what Keene was trying to say. The small plane that Enka had shot an arrow at had crashed up there. Jorff had said it was damaged and would be collected soon, and Rakki had strictly forbidden any interfering with it in the meantime. The children must have taken a piece that had been broken off.

“Is it from the Metal Bird that died up there?” Yobu asked them. “Is that where you found it?”

“Yes,” the boy answered. “Where the Sky Warrior and his woman go when they …” He looked flustered. The girl with him erupted into a fit of giggling, “Rub bodies.”

Yobu looked back at Keene and nodded. “Yes. Is so.”

Keene gestured at himself with both hands, then indicated the ridge again. He wanted to go up there. It was urgent.

Anything to keep Keene’s mind off Rakki and the warriors, before the argument got any worse, Yobu thought to himself. He called the three boys over, who were still nearby with their spears, keeping a protective eye on things. “Take the Sky Man up there, and show him where the wounded bird lies that Enka brought down with his bow,” he instructed.