The Creatures of Man (64 page)

The goat was chewing a wad of grass, and swallowed it before speaking. "Got my own angle on that, Morgan. Don't want the war moving in on me."

"But if the Primgranese go all-out," said the man, "we may have to attack Earth."

"Yeah. That's what I figure. Especially if you think that Grail's around here somewheres. That's how come I offered to help you up the rocks, Morgan. If you can find the thing and tote it off the Earth, or satisfy yourself and the Lontastans that it ain't here to start with, I figure on being a lot safer."

Morgan considered this at length. "Don't you feel any loyalty to the Primgranese?" he asked.

"Well, maybe a little. But it ain't my fight."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "I wonder," he mused, "how a prehistoric Greek would have felt, watching the war of the Gods and the Titans. Or a Norseman the battle of his Gods and the Frost Giants. You're in a similar situation, Ezzy."

"Then I reckon the way they felt was, they didn't want no stray lightning bolts hitting them," said the goat.

Morgan made his decision and stood up. "All right, Ezzy. Get me out of this valley, and I'll do what I can to keep lightning bolts out of the Rockies."

But Morgan did not escape the valley that day. Even hanging onto the haunches of the sure-footed Ezzy did not make the ascent easy. He was constantly in the goat's way, and Ezzy had to climb with unaccustomed caution, making no jumps and being careful not to put a rear hoof on the man's foot or in his groin.

Morgan spent the night on a fairly comfortable ledge about halfway up. When they reached the spot he threw himself on the ground and said, "I don't know how you made it, Ezzy."

"Weren't easy," the goat replied. "Some places I had to use my fingers. Don't never do that very much."

"Fingers?" said the man.

"Yeah." The goat lifted a foreleg, and Morgan watched the hoof snap into two heavy, horn-backed fingers and a similar opposing thumb. Ezzy flexed the digits a few times, then closed them into a fist once more and put the hoof down. "I reckon you humans figure if they give us big brains, they got to give us hands, too. Like they have to go together. I ain't real sure of that, myself. Don't hardly ever use it." The goat paused, then finished, "I'm going back down where the water and grass is. Be back about sunrise."

With a couple of leaps Ezzy was out of sight. Morgan sighed with misgiving. He had to trust the goat to return. But finally he slept.

And Ezzy was back with the sun, and the climb was resumed.

They reached the crest shortly before midday.

"I reckon you can make it without me from here," the goat said.

The man studied the terrain for a moment and nodded. "Yes. Many thanks, Ezzy."

"Weren't nothing," said the goat. "Where you figure to head?"

"I have to find a way into the old caverns."

Ezzy said, "Well, I showed the Primgranese how to get in, so I reckon I could do the same for you. Got a map?"

Morgan nodded, drew a sheet from his belt pouch and unfolded it. The goat studied it and then put a finger on a spot.
"Right there. It's a tight crevice with a hole in the side. Nothing close to mistake it for. Best way to get there from here is like this . . ." The horn-backed finger described a route across the map as the man watched closely.

"Good," he said, "and thanks again."

"Well, but don't figure on finding nothing," warned the goat. "I don't reckon there's something there to find. The Primgranese is already looked."

"That's my problem, Ezzy. Don't worry about it. Goodbye."

The goat stood on the crest watching the Lontastan questor depart in search of the Grail.

Lontastans and Primgranese . . . they were pretty much the same. All shared Earth as their ancestral home . . . a home they had grown up and left. Even the Primgran citizens who resided on the planet weren't Earthmen. Not really. Like all other humans, they were . . .

The goat paused in his thought.

. . . They were Spacemen. Or Starmen. Or Galaxymen.

Were they like the ancient Gods and Titans and Frost Giants mentioned by Morgan? Ezzy had not heard of those mythological races before; no Primgran had ever happened to mention them to a goat. But it could be, he meditated, that long ago other creatures had matured and left the Earth, to fight battles in the sky. And primitive man waited in awed fear for the chance blow that would doom him . . .

Now, however, man was in the sky and goats were on the ground. In times still distant, would goats be stupid and forgetful, and follow the same pattern?

Ezzy lifted a foreleg, studied the hand man had given his kind, and made an annoyed sound in his throat.

But the distant future would have to take care of itself. Ezzy had his duty to perform in the present, to perhaps assure the survival of his kind.

There was no question of where the Grail object really belonged. Not with the Primgranese, and not with the Lontastans. They had passed beyond the Earth. And Whoever or Whatever had endowed this planet with the object had meant it for Earth's creatures, not for conquerors of the universe. Else, why was the object still here after all the ages?

Also, there was no question of who really needed the object's protection.
Earthlings
needed it.

Ezzy turned to survey the valley from which he had assisted Morgan, and felt a mild pride in a job diplomatically done. He had been worried for a while, because the man had chosen this particular spot to land. But that was mere happenstance. Morgan had suspected nothing, and had been very glad indeed to leave the valley empty-handed, to do his questing elsewhere.

Once more Ezzy turned to look in the direction the man had taken and caught sight of him passing over a ridge about a mile away, following the route Ezzy had suggested.

Then the goat trod northward along the crest, continuing his watchful guarding of the Valley of the Grail.