Polymath (14 page)

“Hm? Oh—no, it’s not that. The skin’s hardened up nicely. You did a great job for someone who’d only ever read about frostbite amputations. No, it’s more a kind of itch.” Elbing grinned wryly. “Not even a real itch, a psychological one. It’s because now I’m this way I can’t pace up and down when I’m agitated. The clump-clump of the pegleg drives me crazy.”

Jerode forced an answering chuckle and went on staring at the radio as though he could will it to crackle into life.

“Doc!” A hesitant voice came from behind the curtain screening the doorway. Recognizing it, Jerode stirred.

“Yes, Delvia, I’m in here.”

She came through the opening like a shy animal, glancing automatically over her shoulder. Her face was drawn and strained, and her legs were smeared to the thigh with the angry strawberry-rash of the blisterweed which had been put under her blanket. By someone. They hadn’t found out who.

“I—I guess I’ve come to ask for sanctuary,” she said, striving for a casual tone. “Doc, I can’t spend another night in that house. It’s like a psychotic ward now.”

“Thinking of coming over to the men’s house?” Elbing drawled. “You’d be welcome there OK.”

“Elbing!” Jerode snapped. Getting to his feet, he looked Delvia over by the dimming light which hung from the middle of the low ceiling. “You’re in pain, aren’t you?” he went on.

“Now and then.” She grimaced and raised one leg to rub at it. “And I’ve got these numb patches, too.”

“Giddiness?”

“Not since—oh, around lunchtime, I guess.”

“Did the ointment help?”

“Oh, sure. It helped a lot. But I got a fierce dose of this stuff.”

“You certainly did. Nobody else has had it nearly so badly. And to think it was done deliberately!” Jerode clenched his fists. “I wish I could find out who’s to blame!”

“Don’t waste time trying. The ones who didn’t actually do it must have approved of it being done. I wish I’d left Naline to their tender mercies. They’d have found out she wasn’t the kid they thought she was soon enough.” Bitterness stained her voice like the rough red marks on her legs. “How is she, by the way?”

“I’m keeping her sedated until morning,” Jerode said. “I want to build up her strength a bit before exposing her to the shock of learning that she’s lost an eye.”

“What about your other patient?” Elbing put in. “I mean Ornelle.”

“Oh, I can tell you about Ornelle!” Delvia exclaimed. “Now she’s back in circulation, she—No, I mustn’t say it!” She stamped her bare foot to the floor. “Doc, do you have any treatment for a vindictive bitch? Because that’s what I’m turning into, and I don’t want to be that way. I just can’t help it, the way they’re goading me. Though I know they can’t help that, either.”

Elbing was studying her thoughtfully. Now, before Jerode could answer, he said, “Hey, Del! Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” She moved stiffly to take the chair Jerode had vacated, sat down, and crossed her legs so she could rub the inflammation again. “I know I feel like a stranger to myself right now, which may account for it. Doc, can you spare me a couch in the infirmary hut or something? I need some rest.”

Elbing made a disgusted noise and turned his back.

“You too?” Delvia said. “You think Naline tried to kill herself because I drove her to it? Don’t bother answering, I read it in your face. Just tell me this, though!” Her voice rose sharply. “How do you explain her taking a gun she knew wasn’t charged? I’d already powered up three of them! She’d seen it done! She can read a chargemeter!”

“All I know is,” Elbing said stonily, “I hate to see harm come to any kid, no matter how it happens.”

“You…!” But, hopeless, Delvia abandoned the retort. She glanced at Jerode, shoulders slumping. “You see,

Doc? That’s the attitude, and you can’t argue with it. I guess the nurses feel the same way, so my idea of sleeping in the infirmary wasn’t so good. I’d better go out in the brush somewhere, then. I have to lie down, or I’ll collapse.”

She made to rise. Jerode stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You sit there for a while,” he said. “While I figure something out. And you shut up, Elbing. I believe Del’s account of what happened, and you’ll have to argue with me if you don’t. You’ll have to make allowances for him, Del. Lex hasn’t made contact since midday, and we’re worried.”

There was a thud on the roof, and they all flinched. Then they relaxed, shamefaced at their own alarm. It must be one of the omnipresent fishingbirds, clumsy in darkness, dropping to roost. They had grown quite used to the presence of the human intruders, and some had even started to make themselves useful by scavenging garbage—though that couldn’t be allowed to progress too far, or they might wind up thieving from the kitchens.

“He oughtn’t to have insisted,” Jerode said half to himself. “If we lose him, we—” He realized what he was saying, and broke off, but Delvia had been listening.

“Doc, there’s something special about Lex, isn’t there?” she said, leaning forward. “What is it?
I’ve
noticed.”

“Uh—well!” Jerode licked his lips. “Well, he’s our brightest and most capable young man, isn’t he? He seems to have an instinct for solving problems.”

“Just an instinct?” Delvia murmured. Jerode, to stop her pressing the point, rubbed his hands together and affected briskness.

“Well, now! I don’t like the look of that rash. Come along to the infirmary with me and I’ll give you more ointment, and I’ll see if we can rig a bed for you as you asked. Elbing, can you listen out a little longer? I’ll pick up someone to relieve you on my way back.”

The one-legged spaceman nodded. Turning to the radio again, he idly twisted the power control. But there was no lack of current.

Lex and his companions had been herded into a shallow cove among rocks at the edge of the plateau, some distance from the ship and the daub-and-wattle sheds which passed for housing. Part of the reason for isolating them, he suspected, was so that the workers here could not see
them and contrast their own famine-struck condition with the evident health and strength of the outsiders.

His heart sank still further when chains with locks on them were produced to shackle them together. Those formed no part of a spaceship’s gear, and certainly would not have been allowed to take up space in the panicky evacuation. What was one to make of a situation where such things were regarded as more important than proper food, housing, clothes? The fanatical determination of a few must be driving the others by methods not seen on any so-called civilized world for hundreds of years. Where in the galaxy did Gomes hail from that he even knew about fetters?

As though the chains were unreliable alone, an armed guard was posted over them too. Until sundown it was one of their original captors who stared menacingly down from the top of a nearby boulder; then a lean young man with bristling hair and a broken front tooth took over, mounting a handlight on a post nearby where it glared down on their huddled bodies. No food was offered, nor were their bedrolls brought.

“Are we supposed to lie in the open all night?” Baffin demanded of the relief guard.

“It’s no worse than we have to put up with!” barked the broken-toothed man. “And it’s not healthy to complain around here, because it won’t get you anywhere! Understand?”

During the last hours of daylight, being so dejected, Lex had spoken little, but he had thought a lot. Now, sensing overtones in the guard’s words, he came alert.

Tentatively he addressed Baffin. “He’s probably right, you know. Gomes is deliberately making these people suffer—most likely, in the hope that enough of them will die to let him and a few others get back to civilization.”

“But even with a few people on board”—Baffin was quick to pick up his cue—“that ship won’t fly again without repairs which can’t possibly be done with handtools.”

“Exactly,” Lex said. The others moved a little closer, chains clinking, to join the discussion. “Which means that—”

“Quiet, you! None of your defeatist talk!” the guard snapped. They obeyed, glancing up. Another handlight was approaching, jerking in a way that showed it was being carried by a man with a limp. In a moment the guard jumped up.

“Evening, Captain,” he said in a fawning voice. Gomes’s gruff answer preceded by a moment his appearance around the rock, accompanied by Probian and Cardevant.

“That’s better,” he said with satisfaction. “In a day or two, they may even be willing to work for a living. We could use some healthy men with muscles. And the women will prove useful too—ours are getting bony.”

“And we’ll recruit more when a searchparty comes after this lot,” Cardevant said, grinning. “To see why they haven’t had their river back!”

“I told you,” Lex called. “We’ll get it back when the dam breaks. About three days.”

“Shut your mouth!” The guard jerked his gun. Gomes gave him an approving look.

“That’s the way to talk to them, Hosper. Good night. I’ll stop by at dawn and see how they enjoyed their night.”

“Good night, sir.”

There was a whimper from Zanice. Aggereth moved close to her and put his chain-laden arm around her shoulders. Lex waited until the sound of footsteps died, then addressed the guard.

“Well, Hosper? Are we right?”

Nervously the guard stared around him, while Lex’s companions tensed as though suspecting he had gone crazy. But then Hosper leaned forward, laying his gun aside.

“Of course you’re right! That maniac and his crew have reduced us to slaves. Why do you think he had chains ready for you? Chains, whips, guns—they’re the language of our lives! I ordy cooperate because… well, I’ve got a girl. It makes it easier for her if I’m one of the—the bosses. But we’ve done everything we can by ourselves. If someone doesn’t help us, we’re doomed!”

“How did they grind you down like this?” Aykin demanded.

“How do you think?” Hosper retorted. “We didn’t have anyone aboard who could exert authority except the space crew. I guess we gave them a rough time during the flight. There was a lot of panic, and Gomes did have to be tough sometimes. When we landed, we were helpless, hungry, half out of our minds with shock. Then when your party came from the coast we thought wonderful, someone’s going to help us—and then the winter shut down before anybody came back. It was terrible up here. We had no shelter except the ship, and the power ran low, and we
had to lie six or eight together at night for warmth, and even so people died of frostbite. It was pure hell. Gomes and his officers imposed their orders at gunpoint because tempers were running so high, and two men—the only two with real guts—they drove out into the snow to die.” His voice trembled.

“I don’t know if I was smart, or just a coward. I’m not really a spaceman, you see. I was his supercargo, more kind of a businessman. But I saw early that I had to stay on his right side or go under. I’ve been so ashamed of myself…. Still, it has helped Jesset. That’s my girl.”

He had to swallow hard to regain control of himself.

“All the way back to the Dark Ages in a few months,” Lodette said somberly. “I never realized how lucky we were.”

“Well, you’ve got to realize it now,” Hosper insisted. “We must get away downriver, tell your people, get them to come back and get rid of Gomes and Cardevant and the rest.”

There was a bleak silence. Eventually Lex said, “There are two difficulties. First, we had precisely seven guns. We brought them all with us. We had no urgent need of them down at the coast.”

“Oh, no!” Hosper bit his lip. Then he went on eagerly, “Yes, but there are eight hundred of you, all fit and well, while we’re just a gang of starving wretches. Anyway, no one would fight for Gomes except—oh—about twenty!”

“But against energy guns…” Aykin said slowly. “Are there many?”

“Same as you brought,” Hosper said dully. “Seven.”

“Could we reach a radio?” Lex inquired.

“Not a chance. Gomes and his pals live in the ship, and they don’t allow anything as dangerous as a radio to be removed from it. Someone did try to signal you, but Gomes caught him and had him whipped until he fainted.” Hosper’s voice shook. “The spare guns are in the ship, too. All except this one and the one Probian has. He’s guarding the pens. That’s what we call the hovels the workers sleep in.”

“But you have an idea,” Lex suggested.

“Not much of one, but…” Hosper hunched forward. “Look. I’ve fixed to watch you the first half of the night And Jesset’s going to be my relief. Gomes trusts us both. He has very few people he thinks he can rely on, and of course having you here means doubling the night guards.

When she gets here we can burn your chains off with this gun. Cardevant will have taken the keys to bed with him. He always does. We might be able to overpower the guy guarding the pens—it’s Probian right now, as I said, but I don’t know who’s scheduled to relieve him. It should have been me, but I asked for this job instead. What I’d like to do when you’re free is wake everyone and tell them to rise up against Gomes, but there isn’t a chance of doing that without Gomes and the others hearing and coming after us with guns.”

“No, that’s out of the question,” Lex agreed. “I like the rest of the scheme, though. I’d suggest we quietly slip away downriver for a bit, and hide; then one of us can break the dam. I’ll do it. It’s flimsy, so we won’t need explosives. After that—well, we know the way and some of the pitfalls. We can beat any pursuit down to the coast.”

“At night?” Baffin said doubtfully.

“We’re going to have to,” Minty said. “That’s all there is to it, isn’t it, Lex?”

A stone turned underfoot. They tensed, staring out into the darkness. But Hosper whispered reassurance.

“It’s Jesset—I know her footsteps.”

The captives relaxed. The long hours of waiting had made them stiff and tired; besides, it was far colder up here on the plateau than down by the sea. They looked curiously at the girl as she appeared beside Hosper in the beam of the hanging handlight. She was a catlike creature with an elfin face, black hair cut short, and bright black eyes; she was very thin and her ribs showed below her tiny breasts. Her only garment was a pair of torn shorts.