The Green Odyssey

Green waited until he was sure the spearsmen were some distance away, then rose. His muscles protested at any movement, and pains shot through his head, knee and ankle. But he ignored them and limped around the edge of the clearing until he came to the back of one of the long houses.

He slipped inside and stood by the side of the doorway. It was more illuminated than he'd thought at first, because of the several large and open windows which admitted moon-beams. Hens sleepily clucked at him, and one of the midget pigs grunted questioningly. Suddenly something soft brushed across his ankles. Startled, he jumped to one side. His heart, which had been beating fast enough before, threatened to hammer a hole in his ribs. He crouched, straining to see what it was. Then a soft meowing nearby told him. He relaxed a little and stretched out a hand, saying, «Here, kitty, kitty, come here.»

But the cat walked by, his tail raised and a look of disdain on his face as he disappeared through the door. Seeing the animal reminded Green of something about which he was anxious. That was whether the natives kept dogs or not. He hadn't seen any and thought that surely if there were some he'd have long ago heard the noisy beasts. Undoubtedly, by now, he should have a whole pack of the obnoxious monsters snarling at his heels.

Silently, he walked into the long single room with its high ceiling. From thick rafters hung rolled-up curtains, which he supposed would be let down to make a semi-private room for any families that wished it. From them also hung vegetables, fruit and meat; chickens, rabbits, piglets, squirrels, hoober and venison. There were no human parts, so he guessed that the flesh of man was not so much a staple diet to these people as a food for religious purposes.

All he did know was that he would have to take some meat with him. He gathered strips of dried hoober, rolled them into a ball and stuffed them in a bag. Then he took down an iron-headed spear and a sharp steel knife from their rack on the wall. Knife in belt and spear in hand, he went out the back door.

Outside, he stopped to listen to the far-off beating of drums and the chanting of voices. There must be quite a celebration around the wreck.

«Good,» he muttered to himself. «If they get drunk and pass out I'll have time for what I want to do.»

Staying well within the shadows of the trees, he picked his way to the back of the hut in which the prisoners were. From where he stood he could see that there were only six old women-about all the island's economy could afford, he supposed-and some ten infants, all toddlers. Most of these, once the excitement caused by the noisy warriors had subsided with their leavetaking, had lain down close to the fire and gone to sleep. The only one who might give real trouble, aside from the guard, was a boy of ten, the one who was now tapping softly on the drum. At first Green could not understand why he hadn't gone with the others of his age to the wreck. But the empty stare and the unblinking way he looked into the fire showed why. Green had no doubt that if he were to come close enough to the lad, he'd see that the eyeballs were filmed over with white. Blindness was nothing rare on this filthy planet.

Satisfied as to everybody's location, he crept to the back of the hut and examined the walls. They were made of thick poles driven into the ground and bound together with rope taken from a 'roller's rigging. There were plenty of openings for him to look through, but it was so dark that he could see only the vague outlines moving about.

He put his mouth to one of the holes and said softly, «Amra!»

Somebody gasped. A little girl began to cry but was quickly hushed up. Amra answered, faint with joy.

«Alan! It can't be you!»

«I am not thy father's ghost!» he replied, and wondered at the same time how he could manage to inject any levity at all into the midst of this desperate situation. He was always doing it, Perhaps it was not the product of a true humor but more like the giggle of a person who was embarrassed or under some other stress, more the result of hysteria than anything else, his particular type of safety valve.

«Here's what I'm going to do,» he said. «Listen carefully, then repeat it after me so I'll know you have it down.»

She had to hear it only once to give it back to him letter-perfect. He nodded. «Good girl. I'm going now.»

«Alan!»

«Yes?» he replied impatiently.

«If this doesn't work… if anything should happen to you… or me… remember that I love you.»

He sighed. Even in the midst of this the eternal feminine emerged.

«I love you, too. But that hasn't got much to do with this situation.»