Hope of Earth Read online

  AMBUSH IN ATTICA

  As Jes and Wona approached Athens they encountered five armed men marching down the road toward them. Jes had rearranged her homespun cloak, tying it in the masculine way, playing the part of a man. But they would soon see Wona was a woman.

  “Spartans!” Wona exclaimed.

  “No. Persian mercenaries,” Jes said tersely, bringing her bow down from her shoulders. “Too many to fight, too late to escape.” Her heart was pounding, but she had already appraised the opposition.

  “We’ll have to take desperate measures,” Jes continued. “I’ll flee; you open your robe and scream helplessly.”

  “But your oath—” cried Wona.

  “I’m not deserting you!” Jes snapped. “I can take out two with arrows; you can take out one with your knife. It’s the other two we have to finesse. You must distract them, just long enough. Do you understand?”

  Cunning showed through Wona’s fear. She nodded. The knife was in her hand, hidden behind a fold of her robe…

  TOR BOOKS BY PIERS ANTHONY

  Alien Plot Isle of Woman

  Anthonology Letters to Jenny

  But What of Earth? Prostho Plus

  Demons Don’t Dream Race Against Time

  Faun & Games Roc and a Hard Place

  Geis of the Gargoyle Shade of the Tree

  Ghost Shame of Man

  Harpy Thyme Steppe

  Hasan Triple Detente

  Hope of Earth Yon III Wind

  Zombie Lover

  WITH ROBERT E. MARGROFF

  Dragon’s Gold

  Serpents Silver

  Chimaera’s Copper

  Mouvar’s Magic

  Ore’s Opal

  The E.S.P Worm

  The Ring

  WITH FRANCES HALL

  Pretender

  WITH RICHARD GILLIAM

  Tales from the Great Turtle (Anthology)

  WITH ALFRED TELLA

  The Willing Spirit

  WITH CLIFFORD PICKOVER

  Spider Legs

  WITH JAMES RICHEY AND ALAN RIGGS

  Quest for the Fallen Star

  WITH JULIE BRADY

  Dream a Little Dream

  HOPE OF EARTH

  Geodyssey: Volume 3

  PIERS ANTHONY

  A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK

  NEW YORK

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  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  HOPE OF EARTH

  Copyright © 1997 by Piers Anthony Jacob

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  A Tor Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

  175 Fifth Avenue

  New York, NY 10010

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  Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

  ISBN: 0-812-57111-8 ISBN 978-0-8125-7111-0

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 96-53954

  First edition: May 1997

  First mass market edition: March 1998

  Printed in the United States of America

  0 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  1. Commuter

  2. Scavenger

  3. Triple Ploy

  4. Arms Race

  5. Numbers

  6. Spirit Girl

  7. Bone House

  8. Rock Art

  9. Snow

  10. Trieries

  11. Princess

  12. Queen

  13. Slave

  14. Plague

  15. Khan

  16. Wall

  17. Melody

  18. Maginot

  19. Dreams and Bones

  20. Symbiosis

  Author’s Note

  INTRODUCTION

  THIS IS THE THIRD VOLUME of the Geodyssey series, following Isle of Woman and Shame of Man, concerning evolution, history, the nature of mankind, and the possible fate of the world. Each novel stands independently, so readers need not fear to try this one if they haven’t read the prior two, and they don’t have to read the volumes in order. Each book tells the story of a seeming family as it follows its course in both the personal and historical senses. The first novel traced three generations, or about seventy years; the second followed one generation, or about twenty years. This third novel follows six orphaned siblings—three brothers, three sisters, of varying ages—as they grow up and love and marry in the course of about ten years of their lives. The history they experience covers five million years. Thus they are Australopithecine—ape-man, if you will—when they start, and modern human beings when they finish. They are usually together, and their family relationships are always the same. So for convenience in reading, they may be considered to be the same folk, though that is not possible in reality. They always speak the language of their local setting, so nothing is made of that in the novel; for this purpose we don’t care much whether it is ape-primitive or contemporary English or future Spanish. Language itself is a defining characteristic of mankind, as we shall see, but in this sense, one language is about as good as another.

  What is true in reality is that all human beings are related, all descending from common ancestors and capable of interbreeding. The passions, fears, desires, and joys of all are similar, though there is much variation. So the family presented here is consistent in the human sense, and the transient details of appearance, such as skin color, hardly matter. Just think of the people herein as similar to those you know. They are, really. Yes, even in their differences. Some are healthy and handsome, but most aie imperfect. So in this novel each major character has a difference or a problem. Sam is convinced he must marry an ugly woman, and he does, though not the way he expects. Flo gets really fat, and thus is considered quite attractive in one culture, and ugly in another. Ned is brilliant, but gets seduced by a wrong woman and suffers. Jes is lanky and plain, so prefers to play at being a man, yet underneath wishes she could be a woman. Bry feels inadequate, yet is not. And Lin is lovely—and has a six-fingered hand. No, this is based on reality; some children are born with extra fingers or toes, which are often surgically removed early in their lives. One famous woman with this affliction was Anne Boleyn, second wife of England’s Henry VIII, mother of Elizabeth I. It seems to be a shame to cut off a working finger, so Lin kept hers, but always had to hide it, because people can be truly cruel to anyone who is different. So these people have curses that are echoed by many of us, which are really more shameful in our self-images than in reality.

  This is a “message” series, and the message is that the qualities that enabled our species first to survive in a difficult and dangerous world, and then to prosper, are now in danger of destroying that world. There is for example no automatic check on population gr
owth. Originally the panthers and other predators did it, feeding on human babies as well as on other creatures. There were also limits of food, so that when a species outgrew its resources it starved. There was disease, at times devastating. Mankind has been as successful as any species in overcoming such limitations, and now dominates the planet, driving other species toward extinction. If this is not curtailed sensibly, it will lead to a truly ugly finish, because the world is not limitless.

  However, those who prefer straight entertainment can skip the italicized chapter introductions and endnotes and just read the ongoing story. The permutations of history are endlessly fascinating, and challenge and love are always in style.

  Chapter 1

  COMMUTER

  Five million years ago, in the western arm of the Great Rift Valley in Africa, the chimp that walked like a man was perfecting his stride. Australopithecus afarensis was forced to forage on the dangerous open ground because the forest had diminished and there was too much competition for the resources of the trees. To do this, he had to lift his upper body up and balance on his hind legs. The supposedly simple act of walking habitually on two feet—bipedalism—entailed a complicated series of bodily adjustments. The spine had to reverse part of its curve so that the head could be right above the feet, the pelvis had to be reshaped to support a torso that would otherwise sag, the feet had to straighten out the big toes and develop arches for shock absorption, and the knees had to lock so that prolonged walking would not wear them out. None of this developed quickly; probably at least a million years were required. But for the purpose of this story, it is assumed that the knees happened in a single mutation applying to the younger generation of a small roving band. Thus for the first time these folk were able to travel comfortably on two feet, and extend their range considerably.

  But was bipedalism necessary? Why didn’t mankind simply range out four-footed, as the baboons did? Why undertake the formidable complications of a change unique among mammals? This may at one time have been a close call. But Australopithecus, having descended from the trees with his head set vertically, had the ability to go either way, and there was one compelling reason that two feet were better than four. It would have been better for the baboons, too, had they been able to do it.

  At this stage speech would have been extremely limited, with an assortment of sounds perhaps emulating the animals they represented, and a few key connecting words. But the expressions of chimpanzees in the wild are more varied and useful than some may credit, and the brain of Australopithecus was slightly larger than that of the chimp. So probably his vocabulary was larger and more effective than the chimp’s, though not by much.

  SAM RANGED OUT ACROSS THE eerie barrens. He was the eldest juvenile male of the band; soon he would be adult. But the adult members would not take him seriously until he proved himself. So he had to survive alone for long enough to prove his capability, and locate a good source of food; then he would be allowed to help protect the band and to mate with all its grown females except his mother. Mothers were funny about that; they would accept attention from any male of any age except the one they knew best. So now he braved the unfamiliar region, hoping there was something there. Part of the challenge was nerve; it took courage to go out alone, and courage was one of the differences between adults and juveniles, among the males, at least. He was nervous, but refused to turn back until he found something.

  The sun was hot, very hot. Normally the band folk found shelter in the middle of the day, grooming each other’s pelts, copulating, or merely snoozing. But Sam didn’t dare relax while alone, because there was no one to watch out for him. A leopard could attack. Of course a predator could attack anyway, especially since Sam was alone, but was less likely to bother an alert person. So he forged on despite the discomfort. The heat made him tired, and he staggered, but wouldn’t quit. He had to prove he was adult. Had to keep going, no matter what.

  He followed the known path to its end, then cast about for some animal trail. Sam was not the band’s smartest member, but he had a good eye for paths, and that had always helped him get around. People paths were easy to follow, and not just because they were close and familiar; the smell of people feet was on them. Animal paths varied; they could be discontinuous, or pass under brambles, or enter dangerous caves. But they were better than nothing, because any path led somewhere, and it was more useful to go somewhere than nowhere. Sometimes they led to water that wasn’t otherwise easy to find. So he continued along the animal paths, going wherever the animals went. Until at last the ground became too dry and hard to show any path clearly, leaving him uncertain. The only path was now the trail of scuff marks his feet left in the dirt behind him. But of course that path led in the wrong direction.

  The sun beat down on his fur, making it burningly hot. It was midday, and the heat blurred his vision. He thought he saw pools ahead, but knew from experience that it wasn’t so. There was no water out here on a dry day like this. The thought made him thirsty, but still he refused to turn back in defeat. He was determined to find something, anything, and be an adult So he plowed on through the blur, trying to ignore the heat and his thirst.

  He felt tired, then oddly light. His feet moved slowly, but hardly seemed to touch the ground. It was as if they were detached from him, moving of their own accord, carrying him along like some separate burden. His head seemed to want to float from his shoulders. How long had he been walking? He didn’t know, but it felt like days. Everything was somehow different. But he just kept going.

  Something strange happened. The sun seemed to expand, becoming enormous. It bathed him in its fierce light, making him dizzy. A dreadful foreboding came, and then a horrible fear. Something terrible was happening:

  The fiery fringe of the sun passed beyond him, enclosing him within its territory. Great vague shapes loomed within it, threatening him, glaring with eyes of flame and licking with tongues of smoke. Doom! Doom! they cried, saying the sound of warning, of terror, of grief. Sam wanted to turn about, to flee, but would not, though he knew it meant destruction. Anyway, he had no path to follow, so would only get lost if he fled.

  Then he was falling, falling, for a long time, the barren plain tilting around him. He felt the shock of landing, but it was far away. He was down, and had to get up, but somehow he could not. Something awful was going to happen if he didn’t flee, but his body would not move.

  Why hadn’t he fled back along his own path, while still on his feet? Because he had been unable to admit defeat. Now he had suffered that defeat anyway.

  A long time passed. Then he discovered that the sun was down, and the cool of evening was coming. He had to return home—and he had failed to find anything.

  Sam got up. He was logy, and his head hurt, but he seemed merely bruised, not injured. He brushed off his fur and started back, dejected, following his own spoor until he could pick up a suitable animal trail. He had failed to find food. He was not yet an adult.

  He moved slowly back the way he had come, quiet because he lacked the vigor to be noisy. The land darkened around him. Then he heard something, and paused, looking.

  Two warthogs were stirring in the bush. One grunted and snuffled at the other, its projecting teeth-tusks gleaming in the twilight. Sam looked warily around for a rock or stick he could use to try to beat the boar off, as there was no nearby tree to climb. But the hog ignored him. It scrambled up, putting its forelegs on the back of the other, who was squealing in seeming protest, and pulled in close. Oh—they were mating. No threat there, as long as he didn’t try to interfere.

  Mating. Which was what Sam wouldn’t get to do, having been unsuccessful on his mission. Dispirited, he walked on. He found increasingly clear paths, which he could follow even in the darkness. So he would make it safely back, for what little that was worth.

  When he reached the camp, his sister Flo was the first to spy him. She was almost as old as he, and would soon have to leave the band and find another band, so she could mate and have a
baby of her own. It would be sad to see her go, for she was his closest companion and friend, but it was the way it was.

  Flo ran to him, and hugged him. Her fur was sleek and fine. “Find?” she asked, making the general purpose query sound.

  “Doom,” he said, repeating the horror of the sun, and shivering, though it was not yet cool.

  Now the other young folk clustered around, eager to know how he had done. They did not understand doom, because he had returned safely. “Find! Find!” they chorused.

  So he tried to tell them what else he had seen, making the grunt and squeal of the mating warthogs. They laughed. “Sam grunt ugh!” The implication was that Sam wanted to mate with an ugly warthog.

  But Flo did not laugh. Her face showed concern. She knew that he had sought experience and status. She knew he had failed. She hugged him again, trying to cheer him, but it was no good. Maybe the children were right. Maybe it was a curse on him, to suffer disaster and humiliation.

  Flo tried once more. She brought him a fruit to eat. This was unusual, because normally sharing occurred only when a female mated with a male and took food from him, or when a female gave her young child food. The two of them would never mate, because they were band siblings, though neither was really a child. Oh, they could mate, as some other siblings did, but were not inclined; they were too close. He accepted the fruit, because he was hungry after his day without eating. Then he went to his favored tree and climbed into it to sleep. Maybe in the morning his shame of failure would hurt less fiercely, in the manner a cut toe eased as it healed.

  Two days later the group of elder children was foraging in a deep valley when a storm threatened. They tended to forage together, because all of them were in that awkward stage between weaning and maturity, too old to be cared for by the adults, and too young to be adults themselves. Sam hated still being a child, but until he went out alone again and found significant good food for the band, he would not be accepted as adult. He couldn’t do that yet, because of the overwhelming feeling of doom his first attempt had left him with. He seemed to be cursed, but he couldn’t understand how or why.