The River Wall (16 page)

*Female, cubs—not in Valley.*

*Wait a minute,*
I exclaimed.
*Is that what you were asking me—why should I care about the other sha’um when you and your family are safe?*

*Yes
,* he answered simply, then paused for a moment.
*Angry?*
he asked.
*Why?*

*I’m not angry, Keeshah—I mean, of course I’m angry, you couldn’t be fooled about that, but I’m more surprised than anything. You share many of my thoughts and most of my emotions. I thought you would understand how I felt—why I feel that way—without asking.

*No,*
I corrected myself.
*That’s wrong. What I thought—what I assumed—was that you feel the same way. But you don’t.*

Somehow, that revelation hurt me terribly.

*If you don’t care about the other sha’um,*
I began,
*why do you think I care about the other people? Why am I trying to keep Ferrathyn from hurting them?*

*Don’t know
,* he answered.

I did feel anger rising then. I recognized that it was a useless and an unfair anger, that the betrayal I felt was nothing more than the truth shining through false conclusions, but I felt it just the same.

*Then why have you helped me, carried me, followed me all this way?*
I demanded.

*You want it,*
he answered.
*I help.*

*But you don’t care about what I’m doing?*
I demanded.
*You don’t believe that it is right, and necessary? You don’t feel that it’s our destiny to be doing this?*

*You want it
,* he repeated, sounding confused. He obviously sensed that I also wanted him to say something he could not say.

I broke off our conversational contact and tried to calm the anger and indignation I felt. I struggled to set aside my misconceptions and see things from Keeshah’s viewpoint in an unbiased way. The first puzzle that came to mind was—why was I so upset?

Keeshah hasn’t failed in his loyalty to me
, I reminded myself.
He has given me all the support I’ve asked for—far beyond what most sha’um are asked to give. What he hasn’t given me is his approval.

Is it important for the general to have the approval of his troops?
I wondered.
Or is obedience far more important? Logic says the latter—but Ricardo remembers jungles and bullets and terror and death, and a churning despair over the value of it all.

There was a turning point for Ricardo—me—in the early days of that war, a time when fear of the enemy outweighed fear of my own commanders. I had settled into a stinking piece of swamp with every intention of not moving until the war was over.

A Lieutenant, a boy not much older than I, found me in my funk and pulled me out of it. He told me what the unit was doing, and why—how it fit into the strategy of this attack, the entire Pacific war. I understood for the first time that other troops, on other islands, depended on our performance there—on my active participation in this battle. I got up, and I followed that man.

The area I had chosen for my stand had been overrun by the enemy less than an hour later. Had I stayed there, a bullet or a bayonet would have ended my indecision. No mere command could have moved me from that inertia, but the understanding given to me by that young officer was enough to get me going again. I followed him until a land mine killed him, and then I followed other officers. The vision he gave me of myself as a moving and important cog in the machine of strategy never left me.

I guess that Lieutenant,
I thought,
has been sort of a model of leadership for me ever since. He may have been a kid, but he knew that men would fight harder, be less afraid, and be more likely to survive if they were treated like men instead of chess pieces.

I think that’s what scared me when Dharak wanted to make me Captain of the Sharith,
I realized.
My image of good leadership is a man who knows, leading men who believe in and agree with him. At the “installation” ceremony, I felt that commitment from the Sharith with some embarrassment, because I had no clear purpose in accepting the position. Dharak would continue to perform the daily functions of leadership. I felt as if I were cheating and deceiving the Sharith. Even now, when my position makes it convenient for me to lead the Sharith against Ferrathyn, if necessary, I feel as if I would be using, not leading, them.

It was like being struck by lightning.

This is what it’s all about!
I realized.
Not Ferrathyn—or, at least, not
only
Ferrathyn. It’s the sha’um too. I’m meant to try to save them, I feel it as strongly as if someone had told me so.

I looked up toward the Zantil, and remembered the falling rock and shaking ground from the Zantro.

Try to save them
, I repeated.
Nature might have her own ideas.

I could no longer see Keeshah, but I looked off in his direction, anyway.

*Keeshah, do you remember the day we rode through the Hall, with the Sharith saluting us?*

*Remember
,* he confirmed.

*I remember it too,*
I said.
*The people were calling out to me, but the sha’um were roaring for you. The sha’um were responding to the feelings of their Riders, but they were showing their respect for you, not for me. You felt it then; I want you to remember how it felt.*

*Remember,*
he said again.
*Why?*

*I’m trying to explain why I feel a commitment to do what I’ve been doing.*

*Not need
,* he said, puzzled, then repeated his earlier comment:
*You want it*

*It is necessary, Keeshah,*
I insisted.
*That’s part of the explanation, anyway, to show you why I feel you have to understand. Will you listen, and try?*

*Yes
,* he said, and I felt him decide to come back to me.

*No, Keeshah, stay there.*

*Why?*

*Because this is something I want you to learn and decide about with only your mind. If you come back here, close, I won’t be able to keep from touching you, and then I’ll never be sure whether you were persuaded by my reasoning or my ear-scratching.*

*Silly
,* he said, but I sensed him settling to the ground on the other side of the low ridge that separated us.

*Thank you, Keeshah. Now keep in mind what you felt in the Hall, all right?*

*Yes.*

*I want you to think back to Dyskornis the first time we were there. Ronar came up to you, lay down, and exposed his throat.*

I felt the surge of savage joy that came to him with the memory.

*Yes, you felt victorious then, didn’t you? Were you proud?*

*
Yes
,* he said, without hesitation.

*Did it feel the same as when the Sharith sha’um saluted you?*

He hesitated.
*Not same
,* he said, after a moment.

*What was the difference?*
I asked.

Keeshah was quiet for a long while, struggling with the task I had given him. I felt a moments fear that I was asking too much of him. His rationality had always expressed itself on a very real and literal level.

*One sha’um,*
he began at last,
*was beaten. Keeshah won honor. Other sha’um gave honor.*

*Very good, Keeshah,*
I said, excited.
*I’d say it a little differently, though. I’d say that the sha’um in the Hall did give you
honor
but that you won
obedience
from Ronar. Do you agree with that?*

*
Yes,*
he said.
*Says better.*

Before this, he had been complying with my requests with a spirit of tolerance. I sensed from him now a genuine interest in what we were doing.

*Let’s call what you felt with Ronar the pride of victory, and what you felt in the Hall in Thagorn the pride of respect. Okay?*
He agreed.
*Which kind of pride felt better?*
I asked.

*Both good
,* he answered immediately.

I groaned inwardly, and felt a desperate temptation to tell him the conclusions I was trying to make him find for himself. I resisted.

*You can tell that there is a difference between them,*
I said.
*Try to explain the difference, and one may seem to be better than the other*

He spent a few seconds in thought, then reached out for me again.
*Pride of victory easier to get
,* he said.

It was my turn to be puzzled. I felt he was going in the right direction, but I’d lost track of the roadway.

*I don’t understand what you mean,*
I said.

*Fought one sha’um,*
Keeshah said.
*Proved better. Other sha’um—no fight, respect anyway.*

*That’s called faith, Keeshah. The sha’um in Thagorn respect you because they believe—without your having to fight them to prove it—that you deserve their respect.*

*No,*
he disagreed.
*Respect me because Riders respect you.*

I couldn’t argue with that. Instead, I went straight for the point I had been trying to make.

*Do you respect me, Keeshah?*
I asked. I was very pleased that he started to answer me with an “of course” kind of response, but then stopped to think about it more before he said anything.

*I know you love me, Keeshah,*
I said gently.
*But its very important to me that you understand what I’m trying to do, and that you come with me because you believe in that—not just because you’re loyal to me. Let me put it this way: if you help me just because you love me, it’s like feeling the pride of victory, but if you help me because you believe in what I’m doing, it’s like feeling the pride of respect.*

It was a lot to take in all at once, and I gave the cat some quiet time to consider. When Keeshah was ready, he spoke to me again. To my surprise, he challenged the analogy.

*Riders respect you,*
he said.
*Riders not here, never with you. They know what you do?*

*They know about it in concept, Keeshah, even though they haven’t been with me all the way, like you have.*

*Concept
,* he repeated, not referring to the word, but to the amalgam of impression and feeling that he got from me when I “spoke” the word to him.
*What is concept?*

I was suddenly conscious of my hurt leg feeling stiff and sore. It gave me both physical and psychological relief to stand up and begin to walk at a slow and limping pace. I marked a fairly level path around a clump of boulders, put one hand on them for safety’s sake, then put my body on “automatic” while I concentrated on Keeshah’s question.

*Concept is a general idea for a specific thing,*
I said, and searched for an analogy within the cat’s experience.
*You and I can talk, mind to mind. That’s a specific thing. Because we can do it, we understand that other Riders can talk to their sha’um the same way. That’s a concept.*

I rushed on, in anticipation of the very literal cats next question.

*It can work the other way too,*
I said.
*Thanasset taught Markasset the concept of the Rider-sha’um link before Markasset had actually experienced it. Markasset had the concept and went to the Valley to get the specific thing.*

He was silent.

*Can you think of another example?*
I asked.

*Went to Valley wanting any female,*
he answered promptly, surprising me.
*Concept. Found female, cubs born. Specific thing*

*Exactly right
,* I said, excited by sharing Keeshah’s struggle to master some very difficult ideas.

*Riders know concept of what you do, not specific things
,* he said.
*Keeshah knows specific things, not concept. Must learn
,* he said emphatically, but I was not sure whether he meant he was insatiably curious about it, or he was rephrasing what I had said—that I needed for him to understand.
*What is concept of what you do?*

Oboy
, I thought.
I asked for this.

*When you went back to the Valley, Keeshah,*
I began,
*you felt a drive to find a female, mate, produce young sha’um.*

*True
,* he acknowledged.

*That’s something called ‘instinct,’*
I explained.
* Every creature has it, an inborn need to continue his own species. He doesn’t think about it or plan it, he doesn’t make a decision that his kind is worth preserving—the instinct is just there, and he follows it. He preserves the existence of his species.

*Among men, there is another level of existence—not just living, but a way of living together. It’s called ‘society.’*

My foot came down on a slant-topped rock and slipped. I caught myself, cursed inwardly at the pain, but hardly noticed what I was doing.

*Most of the time, a man doesn’t choose his society, any more than he chooses that he will be born a man and not a sha’um. As he grows, he learns about his society and how to survive in it. It is an important part of his life—so important, in fact, that he begins to feel something like his instinct to preserve his species. The continuation of his society is almost as important to him—with a difference.

*Birth is the only way to continue a species,*
I said to Keeshah, sensing that his attention was still totally focused on the effort to understand.
*But society is a complex, intricate structure, formed and preserved by mutual need and human choice.

*A man may look at the society into which he was born, and decide that the best way to preserve it is to change it. If other people agree, the society changes. If they do not agree, a man either learns to live with it, or leaves that society for a different one. That is another way of change, but it works only for that one man. I believe that every man has a right to be part of a society, and an obligation to think about it and try to change it if he thinks it needs changing.*