GODS OF SPACE-8
748 Words
AH-LI’S DWELLING WAS a house seemingly of three mounds interlocked. A glow of dim purple radiance showed through its small window-openings. And there were upright ovals for doors. The milling crowd stood watching as they entered. There seemed three small rooms inside.
Amazement swept Atwood. There was crude furniture here, woven of plaited vines—a table; chairs. A low little couch with dried leaves upon it. Furniture almost in Earth-style.
“Where did you get that?” Atwood murmured as he surveyed it.
“That? Why, I made it. I do not know why, but that seemed the right thing to do.”
Memories of her Earth-life which were stirring in her, so vague that she did not recognize them.
“You go now, Bohr,” Ah-li added.
Atwood swung to find the Marlan behind him. “Yes,” Bohr said, “I will tell to the Great-Selah that the Man-God has come.” Bohr’s wide heavy jaws were chewing; and as he stood eyeing Atwood, he swayed on his feet.
“You chew the intoxicating weed?” Ah-li said reproachfully. “That is not good, Bohr. You want to be God-like—you should not do that.”
“I know it,” he said. His gaze fell before hers. And then as he turned to leave the room, again his strange flashing look swept Atwood, and there was hatred and menace in it.
“We will eat now,” Ah-li said. “I have food here.”
It was a strange meal. The food was peculiar though palatable. But Atwood hardly was aware of the food as he ate it. At the windows here he could see that Marlans were watching them. Others undoubtedly were watching the doors. There would be no chance, certainly not now, for him to get out, even though, once outside and free, he knew that no Marlan possibly could catch him. Nor had he the least chance of getting Ah-li out. Especially since she would probably be unwilling.
“You have told them of the genes?” he heard himself saying.
Her voice sounded worried.
“Yes. They are putting the barrage up now.”
On impulse Atwood went to one of the windows. The Marlans there drew back, but stood at a little distance, staring at him. Behind them, the weird, glowing little village was in a turmoil with the excitement of the coming of a Man-God, and the news of the genes, the dread season of monsters again at hand. Doubtless the word had spread. From the nearby smaller settlements, the people were hurrying here. The streets seemed more jammed than ever now; and out beyond the edge of the village, radiant beams of the purple light were standing up at intervals into the sky; spreading beams, intermingling to form the barrage curtain.
Atwood came back from the window. It faced the main village street. Atwood was wondering if the other side might not face some space darker, more empty. That would be this adjoining room.
“When do you think Selah will send for us?” he demanded.
“Perhaps soon. Perhaps later tonight.”
He gestured toward the room’s inner doorway. “And that room there, that is for me, the Man-God?”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Then I shall go there now. You call me if the Selah wants us.”
Triumph swept him as he reached the dim other room. He had lost his flash-gun in the tree-tops when he was chasing the girl. But he still had his other equipment. He discarded it all now save the little insulated cylinder slung over his shoulder, the cylinder in which he would store the precious Xarite. The window-ovals here were dark. Cautiously he went to one of them. There was a sort of garden outside, with beds great blossoms topping spindly stalks. A little forest of them, high as a man’s head. To the left, a section of the village was visible; crowded with milling excited Marlans. But to the right, beyond the garden there was dimness. The barrage at the outskirts of the village there, had not yet gone up. It should be possible to get out through this window; make a run through the shrouding flowers of the garden.
Atwood watched his chance. Then, like a shadow, he was out of the window, sliding into the tall flower-clusters. Every instant he feared that there would be an alarm; but there was not. Then he was through the garden, skirting a dark edge of the town. The barrage was going up to the left of him, but its light did not reach him, and in a moment he was in the open country, with great sailing leaps bounding toward the hills and the caves of the Xarite.
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