I. The Community
The messenger rose from her chariot seat and sharply cracked her whip. The ueg, its big hands gripping the shafts, craned its long neck around, grunted its indignation, and slightly speeded up the slap-slap of its big flat feet. Many-jointed creeping things scuttled across the wet sand of the beach and slipped with small splashes into the Scarlet Sea.
As soon as the rhythm of the ueg's two feet showed signs of slowing, Rhodh of Elham cracked her whip again. This ueg was an old bluffer, adept at appealing to its driver's sympathy. But with the hills behind them and only a half-hour's drive ahead, Rhodh (who was not given to squandering sentiment on dumb beasts anyway) had no sympathy to spare. For the news she bore was more important to the Community than the life of an ueg, or even of a worker like herself.
The chariot lurched and canted as the ueg cut in from the beach where the road took up again to cross the base of Khinad Point. Rhodh hardly glanced at the ruined towers of Khinam thrusting jaggedly up from the jagged rocks, though one of her fellow workers, Iroedh, had tried to interest her in the ancient artifacts to be found in the ruins. Such interest was all very well for drones, who had nothing better to do with their time between assignations than to make silly rhythmic noises, or even for Iroedh, who was a queer creature anyway.
But she, Rhodh, could never feel any fascination for the pastimes of her remote ancestors. No creatures with the bestial customs of her forebears, like those described in the Lay of Idhios, could produce anything worth the interest of a dutiful worker. Besides, her destiny lay higher than the collection of useless knowledge. Someday she'd sit on the Council and do something about round dances and other forms of time wastage. General Rhodh? Foreign Officer Rhodh? With her efficiency rating and moral superiority, there was nothing she could not do.
Rhodh cracked her whip again, this time against the ueg's leathery hide. The animal squawked and leaned forward in a run. This news must go to the highest officer at Elham; if the Council could not grasp the situation, then to the queen herself.
The sun was low in the hazy sky when Rhodh drew up at the outer wall of the Community. The guards, knowing Rhodh, let her through without formal identification. She drove on toward the cluster of interconnected domes that rose from the middle of the intramural park.
In front of the entrance she called "Branio!" to the ueg, hitched the beast, and walked stiffly up to the portal. Two workers stood guard on either side of the door, their freshly polished brazen cuirasses, studded kilts, greaves, and crested helmets blazing in the low sun. Their spears stood straight and their faces showed nothing but corpselike calm.
Rhodh knew them. The one on the left was young Tydh, a sound regulation-minded worker; the other was the woolly-minded antiquarian Iroedh.
A few minutes before, these guards had been standing at ease while Tydh chattered and Iroedh ate a ripe vremoel and half listened, half daydreamed.
". . . and you'd think any fool would know better than to change queens with the war cry of the Arsuuni practically ringing in our ears. I know Intar's rate of laying is down, but so what? It's high enough for the purposes of the Community, but when the Council get an idea in their heads . . ."
Between bites Iroedh said: "We don't know that queens will be changed."
"Intar cannot refuse the challenge . . . Or do you think she will kill Princess Estir? Not likely; she's fat and wheezy, while Estir moves like a noag on the hunt and handles a spear like a soldier of Tvaarm. Of course there are those who say Intar's lucky. But for the conflict with the Arsuuni we need, not a lively young queen who can leap her own height and best an old one in the Royal Duel, but an old and crafty one who—"
Iroedh sighted Rhodh, finished her vremoel in one big bite, threw the pit into the shrubbery, and said: "Attention! A chariot's coming."
Tydh snapped upright but continued to talk. "That's Rhodh, who went to Thidhem on that project to plant a colony in Gliid. She's always rushing about on some mission or other; they say she'll make the Council yet. She was to get a quit-claim from Queen Maiur on the valley—"
"Belay the talk."
"But she's one of our own—"
"I said belay it."
As junior, Tydh perforce shut up while the chariot drew near and stopped. Iroedh watched Rhodh stamp up the steps in an umbrella hat, laced boots, and a traveling cloak of long-stapel suroel which because of the warmth was thrown back over both shoulders. Her only other item of wear was a sheath knife hanging from a light baldric. Her spear she had left in its boot in the chariot.
Iroedh watched her approach with mixed feelings. Once she had liked Rhodh, thinking she shared her own enthusiasm for the lost arts of antiquity. However, they had both been very young at the time, and later Rhodh's interest in Iroedh's hobbies had faded into the grim devotion to duty of the ideal Avtiny worker. For a while Iroedh had almost hated Rhodh in her disappointment, but then this feeling too had subsided into a vague regret for the loss of early promise.
Rhodh exclaimed in a voice high with tension: "Sisters, who is the highest officer of the Council at Elham now? I must see her at once!"
"Great Eunmar!" said Tydh. "What on Niond is the matter, Rhodh? Has another Community declared war upon us?"
"Never mind. Quick, who is she?"
"I'll check the list," said Iroedh. "The general is of course with the scouting force on the frontier of Tvaarm. The commissary officer has gone to Thidhem for the eight-day. The upbringing officer is sick. The foreign officer is with the general; the royal officer's at the queen's laying . . . By Gwyyr, not one officer of the Council is available!"
"That is impossible! The law requires at least one to be on duty at all times."
"The upbringing officer was supposed to be, but was taken with cramps. Meanwhile—"
"Then I must see the queen!"
"What?" cried Iroedh and Tydh together.
"Queen Intar of Elham, herself, at once!"
"Are you mad?" said Iroedh. "She's laying!"
"That cannot be helped. This news is more important than one egg more or less."
"Impossible, unless Queen Omvyr's soldiers have already attacked."
"This is even more momentous than that. At least we know all about the Arsuuni."
Tydh looked at Iroedh, who as senior would have the final say. "We dare not, Iroedh. The regulations are explicit. We should be punished."
Iroedh said: "Tell us your story, Rhodh, and I will judge."
Rhodh fanned herself with her wide-brimmed hat. "Stupid, stupid . . . But I suppose I must. Hmp. When the representative of Queen Maiur of Thidhem and I went to Gliid to rough out the bounds of the proposed colony, we arrived just as a—what would you call it?—an airship or sky ship alighted, bringing beings from the stars who call themselves men."
Iroedh and Tydh exchanged glances of puzzlement shading into consternation. The latter said:
"Impossible, Rhodh dear! It's been proved that the stars must be too hot to support life. Or is this a new version of one of those old legends Iroedh collects, about the gods' coming to earth?"
"I assure you," snapped Rhodh, "that I saw the creatures myself and talked to them. And nobody has ever accused me of lying. It seems that many stars are circled by worlds like ours, and many of these worlds support life. There is even a sort of interstellar government called the Interplanetary Council. These men are among the most advanced of the civilized species on these other worlds (or at least advanced in the natural sciences) and have sent their sky ship to discover us, as we might send a galley to look over an island in the remote regions of the Scarlet Sea."
As Rhodh paused for breath, Tydh said: "It's just as the Oracle of Ledhwid said:
"When the stars fall down and the waters rise
Then flowers of bronze shall grow on the dome;
And a drone shall be deemed uncommonly wise
When he seeks a new home "
Rhodh said: "I suppose you mean that when the sky ship comes all our drones will turn rogue. We'll see to that!"
"But what do these men look like? Are they many-legged like a dhwyg or all jelly like a huusg?"
"They are really quite human-looking, with certain differences."
"Such as?" said Tydh.
"Oh, they're a little shorter than we are, with skins of yellow and brown instead of red like ours; they have five digits on each hand and foot instead of four; their ears are large and wrinkled around the edge; their eyes have round pupils instead of slit pupils like ours; they have hair all over the tops of their heads instead of a single strip running from the scalp down the back as with us; and—well, that gives you an idea. What is more important is that they have no caste of workers!"
Iroedh spoke: "Then who built and manned this sky ship?"
"Their drones and queens. The ship's company consists mainly of drones, with two or three queens. When I asked where their workers were it took them a while to understand the question, and then the one who learned our language assured me they had none—all were functional males and females."
"What!" cried Iroedh.
"And you call them civilized?" said Tydh. "When they reproduce like animals?"
"I do not care to argue the point," said Rhodh. "I am trying to convince you that this arrival has enormous possibilities for good or evil to the Community, and it therefore behooves you to take me to the queen at once!"
Tydh said: "If you'll wait an hour, the queen will have laid and the royal officer will have certified the egg and placed it in the incubator—"
"No," said Iroedh, "I agree that the matter requires immediate attention. We will go to the queen—"
"But the regulations!" wailed Tydh. "We shall be punished—"
"I'll take responsibility," said Iroedh. "You stay here, Tydh."
Iroedh led the way through the corridors to the central dome. Outside the anteroom to the queen's chambers stood extra guards, for Princess Estir was practically of age and there must be no risk of a chance encounter before the formal fight for succession. In the anteroom sat a massive drone with a cheerful air. As Iroedh clanked across he said:
"Hello, beautiful!"
"Hail, Antis," said Iroedh. "You're on tonight?"
Antis grinned. "Right. She'd have me out of turn if she dared. And tomorrow, if I can—you know. How about it?"
"I have to work. Scrubbing."
"Sad; all work and no play will make Iroedh a dull girl, don't you think? Let me know when you get a day off."
Iroedh became aware that Rhodh was staring sternly at her. Just then the inner door opened and Iroedh told the worker who opened it:
"Guard Iroedh to see the queen, with Messenger Rhodh."
"She's laying this very minute! I cannot—"
"This is an emergency. The minute the egg is laid, inform me. I take responsibility."
The worker ducked back into the inner chambers and presently returned, saying: "It's been laid, and she'll see you. But she says your news had better be important."
Queen Intar's lounge chair overflowed with her sagging bulk. A worker operated on the queen's huge mammae with a breast pump. The egg lay in the sandbox, where the royal officer was marking code symbols upon it in crayon.
"Well?" snapped the queen. "Don't tell me you broke in upon my laying period just to inform me that old Maiur won't give up her nonexistent claims on Gliid! I've had workers whipped for less."
Iroedh said: "Many eggs, Queen. I take responsibility for this interruption. Pray let Rhodh speak."
Rhodh repeated her story with further details. Queen Intar leaned forward when she described the men's sexual organization, and asked:
"Could these self-styled functional males be mere male neuters, a caste of male workers corresponding to our neuter females?"
"No; at least they said such was not the case. We could not very well demand proof."
"Then does this discrepancy in numbers mean that their males much outnumber the females?"
"Again, no. In numbers they are about equal, but as the female is smaller and viviparous they seldom go in for anything so strenuous as exploration."
"A fine lot of females! Are they mammals like us, or do they feed their young on this and that?"
"They are mammals; the functional females had fully developed glands—though not so fine as yours, Queen."
Trust Rhodh, Iroedh thought, always to work in some little bootlicking compliment to her superiors. The queen asked:
"How are they fertilized?"
"I was not able to examine their organs, but—"
"I don't mean that; I mean what social code governs the act? Do they go about it catch-as-catch-can, like the beasts?"
"On the contrary, they are governed by an elaborate code. During their long journey from their star, not one of all those males—"
"What star is that?"
"We cannot see it from here, but they pointed to the constellation Huusg. They call it Sol or Sun and their planet Terra or Yrth, depending upon the language."
"What are their intentions?" asked the queen.
"They say they wish merely to study our planet and to try to trace part of an earlier expedition which disappeared on Niond. At least they say it did."
"I've never heard of such a thing. Do you believe their peaceful protestations?"
Rhodh shrugged. "One cannot, without proof, believe the statements of beings not merely from another Community or of another race, but of another world. They may be truthful and harmless; Ledhwid only knows. Personally I am always suspicious of people who profess to be motivated by a passion for knowledge for its own sake, regardless of its utility."
She shot a sharp look at Iroedh as she said this. Queen Intar persisted in her questions:
"What did they think of us?"
"At first they seemed a little afraid of us, as indeed we were of them. After they learned we had no weapons but spears they became friendly enough, and appeared quite as amused by our account of our ways and achievements as we were astonished by them. This interpreter, called Blos or Blok, told me our caste system reminded him of a small flying creature called a bii, domesticated on his home world for its sweet secretions."
"I trust you didn't give them information that would be useful to an enemy!"
"No, no, I was careful. . . ."
At length the queen said: "I can certainly see those possibilities for good and evil. The omens have been hinting at some portentous development. If we could somehow use them against the Arsuuni . . . If, for instance, we could capture one and hold him as a hostage to compel the others—"
"Queen, I have tried to make clear that their powers are so far beyond ours that any violence would be sheer madness."
"Poof! What powers?"
"Could we build a ship like that?"
"N-no, but what of it? How can they harm anybody with their magical ship, save by dropping it on them? And if it's anything like a normal watership it would break like an egg if they tried it."
"They have other powers. I have seen one stand up to a charging vakhnag and point a little hollow metal rod at it, and bang! the beast fell dead with a hole through it you could put your head into."
"Did they tell you how this device worked?"
"No. When I asked, they became evasive."
"Clever rascals, it seems. What other devils' tricks have they to hand?"
"That is hard to say. I heard they had a device that tells whether a person is lying. There was so much new about them I couldn't absorb it all at once. I will make notes as I remember and write a report for the Council."
"Good." Intar turned. "My good Iroedh, you did well to bring Rhodh in without waiting to untangle the threads of protocol. Resume your watch, and, as I shall probably have further orders for you, don't leave Elham. By the way, on your way out tell that drone I shan't want him. I have other matters on my mind."
As Iroedh passed through the anteroom on her way out, she saw Antis pacing the floor and gave him the message.
"My luck!" Antis scowled, then brightened. "In that case, why shouldn't we take our supper over to the ruins? Ythidh guards the dronery tonight, and if I can neither elude nor bribe her my name's not Antis of Elham."
"Fine," said Iroedh. "But Antis dear, let me warn you again not to drop hints of our unsupervised amusements in front of others."
"I don't."
"You did before Rhodh just now."
"That stupid creature?"
"She's not so stupid she didn't understand what you were talking about. If she complains to the Council it could be unpleasant. She would, too."
"What do they think I'm going to do to you? What can I do besides eat supper and help you look for antiques?" He laughed heartily, showing a fine set of blue teeth, "Anybody'd think you were a functional female!"
Iroedh sniffed. "Sometimes I find your peculiar sense of humor positively revolting."
He waved a hand. "Forget it, beautiful. I shall see you at Khinam at sunset."
Iroedh had been back on watch for an hour and was beginning to look for her relief when Rhodh appeared, saying:
"Queen Intar has decided to send a party back to this sky ship to establish closer relations with the men. As senior member I shall head the party, the foreign officer being unavailable. The others will be Iinoedh, Avpandh, Vardh, and you."
Iroedh's face lit up. She was especially pleased that Vardh was coming, for Vardh had always looked up to Iroedh.
"What wonderful luck! Thank you, Rhodh dear!"
"Hmp! Don't thank me. I would never have chosen you, and I don't know why the queen did. This would never have happened if the Council had been functioning, but you know Queen Intar. The agricultural officer must have put in a word for you; we all know you're a pet of hers."
Iroedh listened first in astonishment and then in anger to this tirade. She flared:
"What have you got against me? I've traveled before, and my efficiency rating is well above the mean."
"It is not that, but these tales of your fraternizing with a drone, sneaking off on picnics with him and Ledhwid knows what else. He practically confirmed the rumor with his own words today."
"And what business is that of yours?"
"None, but you asked me why I didn't think you an ideal choice for this mission. Workers who associate with drones fall into dronish habits. They waste time, fool around, and take their pleasure when there is work to be done. They dance and plant flowers and that sort of nonsense. However, the next Cleanup will take care of that!"
Iroedh, who had reason to hate the word "Cleanup," made her face blank and replied coldly: "I suggest you defer judgment on my fitness for the mission until it's over. When do I report?"
"Tomorrow after brunch, in full campaign gear. Good night."
Iroedh watched Antis peck with his flint and pyrites until he had a small fire going, then slipped around to windward so as not to have to endure the smell of cooking meat. It was a measure of their affection that they were willing to eat together, the pleasure they got from each other's company outweighing the disgust that the diet of each aroused in the other.
Out on the Scarlet Sea a great flying fish flapped and wheeled in circles, looking for smaller sea creatures to snap up, and silhouetted blackly against a blood-colored setting sun. Around them rose the ruins of Khinam, whose shattered spires and hypnotic mosaics the modern Avtini did not even try to imitate, let alone surpass. Near at hand rose the Memorial Pillar of Khinam, celebrating some forgotten hero or victory. Although the statue that crowned it had been eroded down to a mere pitted torso, the pillar itself, being of solid masonry, had survived better than most of the city's structures.
Antis, looking up from his fire making to watch the flying fish, remarked: "That's an omen of change."
"What is?"
"When a flying fish circles withershins."
"Oh, silly! You see omens in everything, and changes are always occurring."
Iroedh fell into a reverie as she absently munched her own meager meal of biscuits and vegetables while turning over her loot in the fading light.
"What," she said, "do you suppose this is? It's too frail for a weapon, and doesn't look like an ornament. A staff of office, perhaps?"
Antis looked up from the haunch of leipag he was roasting. "That's a telh, with which the ancients used to make music."
"How does it work?"
"You blow into that hole at the end and twiddle your fingers over the other holes. Remember that picture on the wall of the Throne Hall?"
Iroedh blew without result.
"Come to think," said Antis, "you don't blow into the hole, but across it—like that!" Iroedh's shift in position was rewarded by a wail from the flute. "Here, let me try it."
"Your hands are greasy!" said Iroedh.
"Very well, after I finish this. What's that book among the junk?"
Iroedh picked up an ancient volume from the litter. Its pages of vakhwil bark were cracked and crumbly, and the ink so faded that the text could not be read in the waning light. Above each line of writing ran a strip of fine parallel lines dotted with little black spots.
"A songbook!" cried Antis. "What luck!"
"I suppose those little black spots show what hole you close with your fingers?"
"Or more likely which you leave open. Try it."
Iroedh began blowing and fingering. Despite her inexpertness, a certain tune became recognizable.
"I think I know that one," said Antis. "When I was first admitted to the dronery there was an old drone named Baorthus who'd been let live through several Cleanups after his time because he was so skilled at his task. He used to hum a tune like that. I suppose I ought to have memorized it, but I was too occupied with my new function, and at the next Cleanup Baorthus got it. I'd forgotten all about it till now."
He wiped his hands on a weed and came to look over Iroedh's shoulder. "By Eunmar! With more light we could read the song and the notes at the same time, don't you think? Let me feed the fire."
He went out, leaving Iroedh to tweedle mournfully. There was a sound of breaking sticks and back he came with a bundle of fuel.
"Now," he said when the fire was blazing, "let's start at the beginning. You play, I sing." He scowled at the faint spidery letters. "A plague on this archaic spelling! Let's go:
"Love does not torment forever.
Came it on me like a fire,
Like the lava of Mount Wisgad,
Or the blaze that sears a forest.
When my love is not far distant,
Do not think my sleep is easy;
All the night I lie in torment,
Preyed upon by love in secret . . ."
Their performance was hampered by the fact that every line or two one or the other would get off the tune, and it finally broke up in a fit of mutual laughter.
When she could get her breath Iroedh asked: "What's this 'loved one' the fellow keeps talking about?"
"A friend, I suppose; a fellow member of the Community."
"I can't imagine losing sleep over a fellow worker; or even over you, my best friend."
Antis shrugged. "Ask the Oracle of Ledhwid. The ancients had some funny ideas. Maybe their lack of dietary control had something to do with it."
Iroedh mused: "The only time I ever saw an Avtin so stirred was when that foreigner, Ithodh of Yeym, learned that her Community had been annihilated by the Arsuuni. She killed herself, even though the Council offered to admit her to Elham as a member."
"Well, no doubt we should be upset if we heard Elham had been wiped out. It may be yet, you know."
"Let's not think of anything so horrible before we must!"
"All right, my dear. Let me borrow the telh and the book, will you?"
"Certainly, but why?" said Iroedh.
"I thought I should have fun with my fellow drones. If you hear strange sounds from the dronery, it'll be Kutanas and I teaching them the ancient art of singing."
"I hope it won't cause the trouble the Lay of Idhios did!"
"And who taught me the Idhios?"
"I did, but only to keep it from dying out. I didn't expect a poetic orgy—"
"Just so; and neither shall these songs be let perish. After all, I shan't be around too much longer to cherish them."
"What do you mean?" she asked, knowing very well what he meant, but hoping against hope.
"One of these days there'll be a Cleanup, and I'm one of the oldest drones."
"Oh, Antis!" She seized his arm. "How dreadful! Has the queen been complaining?"
"Not so far as I know, and I've certainly been giving her upstanding service. But a Cleanup has been overdue for some time."
"But you're not really old! You're hardly older than I, and should be able to perform your duty for many years."
"I know, but that's not the Council's view. Maybe they're afraid we shall turn rogue if let live until we're old and crafty."
"You wouldn't ever, would you?"
"I hadn't thought about it. I suppose if you learned I was planning to escape and join the rogues you'd turn me in like a dutiful worker?"
"Of course. I mean I suppose so. It would be a dreadful decision to make. But don't plan anything so anti-Communitarian! Hold on as long as you can. You don't—I—"
Her voice choked off in a sob.
"Why, Iroedh!" said Antis, putting an arm around her. "You sound like one of those ancients with their 'burning love.' "
Iroedh pulled herself together. "I'm foolish. And I'm no ancient, but a neuter worker and proud of it. Still, life would be so utterly empty without you."
"Thanks." He gave her a friendly squeeze.
"Nobody else in Elham shares my love for antiques. Sometimes I feel as a solitary rogue must feel, wandering the woods and looking in on the domes of the Communities he can never enter again."
Antis grinned in the gathering dark. "I can reassure you on one point, darling: If I should ever plan to go rogue, I won't confide in anybody who might spoil my plan."
She shivered. "Br-r-r. We should have brought clothing with us. Let's go back."