The Secret City (17 page)

When I speak to Youpas about it he says, “This land is getting all used up fast. One of these days they’ll have to raid some other world. This world can’t last as it is.”

“Corwin and Emily won’t tell.”

“I know these people.”

“How can you? You’ve been up there since you were a little kid. All you know is what our old ones told you. And with you in prison for murder the natives may find out about us all the faster. And I don’t know why you’re so worried. We’re the only ones that have the means to get them on our world. Unlikely they’ll ever discover how we do it. And, by the way, I’ll defend Corwin and Emily with my life. You know I will.”

“And I’m willing to risk
my
life for the sake of our world.”

“If they find you or me dead you’re risking our world, too.”

“Not as much. Maybe not at all. Besides, they’re not going to find
you
. I can see to that.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re still first on my list.”

“I thought we were friends now.”

ALLUSH

F
IRST THING
, I
FALL
. I
WAS TAKING RISKS LIKE
I always do, but now that I’m alone in the middle of the mountains, I shouldn’t. Mollish said over and over that I should be more careful. She said she didn’t want to find me lying under a tree with a broken leg.

I was striding along yet another rocky narrow spot. I fall flat, hit my chin hard and rip the pants of this special suit. It was already badly torn from sliding down the scree. It may keep me dry and warm, but it’s nothing like my old dearskin clothes for comfort and strength. I thought everything back home was supposed to be better and more advanced than anything here on this world, and those old clothes were just old-fashioned leather but they were the best. Now my bloody knees are hanging out. What will happen if I fall on my fanny? Not unusual when going down steep hills. I’ll be bare both front and back. At least my homeworld believes in underwear.

Good thing I fell, though. Now I’ll be more careful.

It’ll be warmer in the Down, but I’m never going to take off this scarf. Never. I don’t care how hot it gets. I saw Mollish knitting away at it. Must have been a couple of winters ago. She knit one for me first. I wonder where it got to. I probably left it in the top of tree when I was too hot one day. I didn’t care about anything. I thought: She’ll just knit me another one.

I can’t eat that home food. I have to find something else and fast. They did give me a knife, so sharp it’ll shave the hair off your arm. (That’s how Youpas tested his knives for butchering.) A good knife was all I asked for. I was always proud to be able to get along in the wilds. I hardly ever went home at lunchtime. Me and my fox—we mostly ate in the woods where we could eat together and not be bothered by other people—people that disapproved of both of us. Not counting Mollish, though.

I never did find out if there are any wild spots on the home world. I should have asked if it was nothing but towers. I wouldn’t like that at all.

This time of year the animals are in the warmer valleys—what few that aren’t huddled up for the winter. I hate to waste time on food, but I just can’t abide that goo of theirs.

I can’t catch a fish by hand like Lorpas did—I tried and I never managed it. I make a little trip-trap. Fifteen minutes later I have a quail. I move the trap and set it again, then I use the stikers from the home world to light a fire. While the first one is cooking I catch two more. They’re small, but I’ll have enough now for a day or two. I’ll be hungry but I won’t starve.

Needless to say, I don’t get far this day either. At this rate I’ll never get anywhere. First the storm, then finding Mollish and then sitting for half a day and hardly knowing I’m doing it. Mollish would have said moping, but it wasn’t moping this time. I needed time to realize she wasn’t here anymore. I needed time to think about how much I loved her.

I find a big tree that fell, its torn out roots form a wall of earth. On the clean side where the trunk is, there’s a nice sheltered spot. I wrap up my quail tight and hang them from a branch several yards away and then crawl under the tree trunk. Tomorrow I’ll hurry. I’ll eat on the run, but I’ll be careful, too.

LORPAS

T
HEY’VE BEEN TALKING IT OVER
. A
LL OF A SUDDEN
I’m not in charge of anything anymore.

They’ve been wandering around town from the baseball diamond all the way to the fish hatchery, me, trailing after. Now and then I get to explain a thing or two but mostly they talk our home language. I’ve no idea what about.

It’s a small town, just a little cluster of stores along Main Street. One store is nothing but fishing poles and rifles. There’s one grocery store, one gas station—more motels than anything else and most of those are old, and mostly empty this time of year. The library is in a normal house. So is the Paiute museum. The high school and the elementary school are two blocks back from Main Street. They share the same playing field.

Jack and Youpas walk past the schools several times. I suppose looking for Emily. They stand for awhile and watch a soccer game. Girls playing, but thank goodness not Emily. These girls are a little younger. Is Jack getting any idea, now, of ages?

I try, again, to tell him. “These are children. Child. Children. Babies.” I gesture sizes. I say, “Emily. A child.”

Jack just looks at me.

“Youpas, tell him.”

“You can’t ever tell people what they don’t want to know.”

J
ACK HAS DECIDED HE LIKES ICE CREAM AS LONG AS
it doesn’t have anything lumpy in it like nuts and they both like McDonald’s. At least we’re not spending a lot of money on food, though I have a yearning to take them both to a nice restaurant with waiters or waitresses. It might have a good effect, especially on Youpas.

That evening they go to a local baseball game and shout themselves hoarse along with the natives, though they have no idea how the game is played. I try to explain it to them, but they don’t want to know. I think again how young they are. And one a complete savage and the other utterly ignorant of this world. Actually they’re equally ignorant but in different ways.

Allush…. She’s a savage, too. I wonder…. Maybe she thinks more or less as Youpas does about the natives. That’s what the old ones taught us. Except I don’t think Mollish felt that way.

W
E SPEND ANOTHER NIGHT AT THE MOTEL
. I
COUNT
out what’s left of the money and show them. Not enough for much more than one cheap meal and a few more supplies for the trip.

Jack says, “One, two, three, four, five, no good.”

“We can’t stay. Are you ready to go? There’s nothing else to do.”

I
hope
there’s nothing else to do. Who knows what they’ll conjure up.

They discuss it with each other—again, in the home language—but not with me. Finally Jack says, “OK, OK.” And we pack up.

I wonder if they actually are going to leave.

I check for my knife. I still have it.

We head for the outskirts of town, west toward the mountains. My donkey is in a field not far beyond the schools. We have to pass the schools first.

But here’s Emily, waiting on the front steps of the high school as if expecting us. She’s leaning against the door in a kind of teenager’s slouch, her black cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes as usual. I almost expect a cigarette drooping in her mouth, except I know she’s against them. As soon as she sees us, she rushes up to Jack. Now looking more like a little kid than a teenager. Hugs him. Yells, “I knew you’d come.”

She has a bigger backpack than her usual school bag. She’s ready to go.

How did they ever get word to her without me knowing? Have they mastered the telephone, and quarters, and the telephone book without my help?

“And now,” Youpas says, mostly to me, “We’re headed for Los Angeles.”

I should have guessed. That’s where all three want to go.

“With no money? And there’s too many of us to hitchhike. “

Youpas says,
“You
won’t be with us,” while Jack says, “Truck. Truckses.”

Is Jack, against me, too? Even Jack?

Look how they stand, relaxed, Jack’s arm across Emily’s shoulder, Youpas, hands on hips.

Youpas says, “First there’s Corwin.”

“In front of Emily!”

“First after we deal with you.”

Look how they stand. A couple of innocents.

“You’re the one, going to get our people discovered. If you kill somebody, the natives will find you in a minute, and I don’t want Jack getting into this kind of trouble before he hardly knows where he is.”

“I killed before. Up at the city. The old ones told me to. We have to save our homeworld.”

“Up there in the mountains it’s a little different. Though I can promise you these natives are still looking for the bodies
and
the murderer.”

“All the more reason…. I’ve nothing to lose. Besides, we’re smarter than they are. They’ll never catch one of
us.”

“Hah.”

“We wouldn’t be here if we weren’t smarter. Instead they’d be on our world.”

Except….

Not a problem.

Not yet anyway.

Youpas still stands, hands on hips. Jack is looking down at Emily. A couple of innocents.

Only question is who gets which?

Fast! One uppercut, twist, then one kick. Two down right in front of the school. Well, at least behind the trees and bushes that line the front walkway.

I’m in charge again.

I think.

Emily just stands there. The look on her face doesn’t match the jaunty angle of her hat.

Youpas is still groggy. I hit him hard. I turn and help Jack up.

I have no idea whose side Jack is on, though maybe Youpas has given him a crazy idea of this world. Could he have convinced Jack that killing is necessary to save our planet?

Youpas is really knocked out. I splash his face with water from my canteen. Then I help him up, too, but I hang on to his arm, twisted up behind him, good and tight.

Just when I thought he was a changed man.

“Look at yourself. Look how you’re dressed. You’re not the butcher anymore. You’re down here in civilization. You can have a completely new kind of life here.”

Do I mean even if he’s already a murderer? Even if he killed their mule? Do I think my words will change his mind about anything? And what in the world is he going to do with Emily?

Jack just looks at me. “Whose side are you on, anyway, Jack?”

“Anyway? Anyway?”

The tune is off for a question in English, but I recognize it from the tunes of my parents’ speech.
Big
question. He hasn’t used that tune before. Except I don’t know what he’s asking.

And I don’t know if Emily is safe from Youpas, or safe from Jack either, in a different way.

But I have, suddenly, such yearning. Not only for Allush, but to be rid of all these people. To be alone and climbing the mountains by myself as I did before. To be heading toward Allush and that she would drop from a tree as she did before and then that there’d be just the two of us. But it’s more likely I’ll never see her again.

Y
ET AGAIN, WE TIE UP
Y
OUPAS
.

I stop and pick up the burro. Load her up. I wonder if she’s safe with Youpas around.

I tell Jack I’m going after Allush. I don’t tell him I’m going even though I don’t believe she’s there. “Do as you please. Stay or come.”

Jack says, “I do come.”

“Emily, I think you should go home.”

“I’m going with Jack.”

“Corwin will be right behind you.”

“Not this time. He thinks I’m staying with a friend. That’s not a lie, I
am
staying with a friend.”

“Emily, this is all wrong and you know it. You’re a kid, for heaven’s sake.”

“I never liked anybody in the whole wide world as much as I like Jack. And I’m mature for my age. Lots of people say so.”

“Running off with Jack at thirteen doesn’t seem that mature to me.”

“I’ve heard all this before. Dad already talked to me a
hundred
times. I don’t need everybody doing it all over again.”