Neq the Sword Read online

  could not think of a suitable song for the occasion.

  "I thought you were dead!" Sosa cried at the shape.

  A grotesquely- formless head swiveled to cover her.

  "Hel-Helicon dead!" it growled.

  "Helicon lives'." Neq cried, discovering suddenly loyalty

  after his recent, drug-strengthened doubts. He brought up

  his sword—and hesitated, knowing that so long as he saw

  it as a sword, the narcotic was ruling his mind. "Stop

  those flowers!" he cried at Sosa. "Use my flashlight—"

  She came immediately and took it from him. She could

  use it far more effectively than he could with the pincers.

  She flashed it into the hole, searching for the vines that

  had to be near.

  Neq faced the creature. "Who are you?" he demanded.

  "Dead!" the thing repeated. It stood near the hole, as

  tall as a man, but with a scarred, hairless head.

  "It's Bob," Sosa said. "Master of Helicon."

  The former master! So he had escaped Sol's vengeance!

  "I am master now," Neq said. "You and I must settle."

  "Get out of here, Neq!" Sosa cried. "He's a real killer,

  and you're under the influence of the—"

  "This way," Bob said. His voice was barely intelligible,

  as though it had not been used for years.

  "Don't go there!" Sosa cried. "He's mad!"

  The men ignored her. Bob descended into the grave

  and Neq followed, feeling with his pincers to locate the

  perimeters. He crawled along on elbows and knees, keeping

  his sword clear of the rubble. Sosa did not follow.

  They emerged into a palatial cavern whose floor angled

  down into a steaming river: the Helicon water supply. It

  was hot here, and there was light: electric light from bulbs

  set in the ceiling.

  "You've had power here—the whole time?"

  ~ "Certainly." Bob's voice was clearer now that he was in

  his own territory, and the flower fragrance was fading. "I

  prepared this refuge well, in case of need.There's a vent

  to the summit of the mountain, with a ladder and escape

  hatch."

  "Why did you stay here, then?"

  "It's cold up there." That was an understatement. The

  top of the mounatin was always covered with snow, and

  death lurked in the form of countless cliffs and crevasses

  and avalanches. Mighty storms spun off the glaciers, feed-

  ing the melt-rivers of the snowline whose waters plunged

  into these atomically heated interior caverns. It would

  take a desperate man indeed to leave comfort like this to

  endure that.

  "You are alone?" It was hard to believe that any man

  could endure seven years in complete isolation.

  "Of course not. I have a most obliging and disciplined

  tribe. Come—you must see. I have no envy of your posi-

  tion." He showed the way along the river to a series of

  offshoot caverns.

  There were animals here—mutant badlands creatures of

  diverse shapes and sizes. Some slunk away as the men

  approached, but others seemed to be tame. "These?" Neq

  asked.

  "This is part of it. These are workers and gatherers—

  illiterate, of course. They do an excellent job of tending

  and harvesting the hydroponics, but they aren't very

  intelligent."

  Neq saw that the ratlike individuals were nipping bits

  of fungus from crevices and carrying them away. "Hy-

  droponics," he agreed.

  "You really must meet my wife," Bob said expansively.

  "One thing about the life of the Helicon master: no

  woman to yourself."

  "I know." So one of the women had come there tool

  "That forced objectivity, when there are constant deci-

  sions of life and death, and no personal life—it isn't

  Helicon you've inherited, it's Hell."

  Neq had learned about Hell through his songs. The

  parallel seemed apt enough. "I saw your traces in the

  dining room. I wondered who had visited."

  "Traces? Not mine. I blocked up the passage with

  refuse and never used it, until you started burrowing from

  the other side just now. I had to investigate that commo-

  tion, of course."

  Refuse—and the vine-flower spores had rooted there,

  downwind from Bob's caverns but upwind from Helicon.

  They had grown and blossomed, betraying the secret.

  Sosa had not been excavating Neqa's grave or Var's cairn,

  but Bob's refuge.

  "Why did you try to kill the child Soli?" Neq asked as

  though it were a matter of mere curiosity. Once he had a

  clear answer coinciding with what he already knew of

  the matter, he could consider his action. This time he

  would make no precipitous mistake!

  "I never tried to kill her. I tried to save Helicon."

  "You failed."

  "The failure was not mine. I knew that no nomad

  would kill either a woman or a child, especially one as

  fetching as little Soli. I knew that the barbarian warrior,

  meeting her in the secrecy of the mesa, would either

  allow her the victory or hide her unharmed and claim the

  victory himself. In either case, Helicon was safe."

  Bob, sealed in these caverns, could not have known the

  story of Var and Soli. He had calculated correctly—

  except for the human factor within Helicon. "Safe?"

  "If she had the victory, the nomads were honor-bound

  to lift the siege. If she were announced dead, my revela-

  tion of her identity would neutralize the nomad leader

  and have the same effect. Sos knew how to put pressure

  on the mountain; he was a superb military tactician, and

  he had studied our defenses from inside. He might have

  won—but no other nomad would have had either the

  motive or the ability."

  Somehow it made sense—except that it had failed.

  "Why didn't you tell the others your strategy?"

  "A leader never tips his hand in advance. Surely you

  know that. I had to make it work, then explain it or not,

  as seemed best. Premature information could have been

  disastrous."

  Neq wondered how well his song and flower gambit

  would have worked, had the group known what he was

  doing before he assumed the leadership. He knew the

  answer. Bob was right. Except: "But Sol fired Helicon!"

  Bob glanced at him. "That barbarian? He lacked the

  wit. / fired Helicon."

  Amazed, Neq said nothing.

  "Somehow the fool librarian got hold of some of the

  information and the word spread before I was ready to

  explain. Sol charged toward my office intending to attack

  me personally, and I saw in the monitors that the others

  actually sided with the fool. I have no tolerance for such

  short-sightedness. So I pushed the DESTRUCT button on

  my desk and came here. I never cared to return; it would

  have been messy."

  "Vengeance?" Neq asked softly, muscles taut.

  "There is no profit in vengeance; you'll learn that one

  day," Bob said condescendingly. "It was merely practical-

  ity. When discipline deteriorates, the organization is

  defunct. It is kinder to terminate it ou
tright."

  "But the entire nomad society collapsed!"

  Bob shrugged. "One must accept the consequence of

  one's mistakes."

  It was plausible. Bob had known what he was doing.

  When others had tried to interfere, he had acted most

  effectively to suppress the mutiny. This was true leader-

  ship. Had Bob been in Neq's situation seven years ago,

  he would have arranged to kill Yod before Neqa ever was

  threatened. Neq knew that next to this man he was an

  innocent; he lacked the fortitude to do what was neces-

  sary. Neq had blundered through life, either prevailing

  extemporaneously or suffering harshly.

  They came to another large cavern. "Ah, here she is,"

  Bob said. "A fine, loyal woman who embodies the very

  principles of obedience and trust and discretion I require.

  Had the functionaries of Helicon only been similar . . ."

  A shaggy, beariike creature with aquatic flipper-feet

  shuffled up: another fringe mutant. "Pleased to meet you,

  Boba," Neq said.

  "Not Boba—that's decadent nomad nomenclature," Bob

  corrected him. "Mrs. Bob."

  Neq nodded gravely. "Now I understand."

  They met him the other side of the grave-dump. "What

  happened?" Jim demanded. "Did you kill him?"

  "Of course not," Neq said, walking briskly on. "There is

  no profit in vengeance."

  "But Bob was responsible for all the—" Sosa began.

  "He has accepted the consequence of his mistake," Neq

  said. "As have I. Seal off the passage, and don't worry

  about the vines there; they make no difference." The

  fragrance was strong here, and he wanted to get out of it

  before his judgment was distorted again.

  "Almost forgot," Jim said. "Someone's been trying to

  reach us on the radio—not the crazies. I had it switched

  to your office, but—"

  In moments" Neq was there. The voice emerging from

  the speaker was foreign. He strode out of the tunnel and

  touched his broadcast button. "Speak English!" he snapped.

  "This is Helicon." Too bad the narcotic didn't make all

  things intelligible!

  After a brief delay another voice came through, ac-

  cented. "This is the Andes station. We have been trying

  to reach you. There has been no contact for seven years—"

  "Merely an interruption," Neq said.

  "But we sent an envoy by helicopter two years ago,

  and he reported that your premises were deserted—"

  So that was the mysterious visitor! "There has been a

  change in personnel. We regret that our former leader,

  Robert, has had to retire. I am Neq. You may deal with

  me henceforth."

  The voice sounded worried. "We dealt many years with

  Robert. How did he die?"

  "Please, Andes!" Neq said, affecting shock. "Helicon is

  civilized! Bob left his position in order to devote his full

  energies to his wife—a charming creature. Send your

  representative again and we'll introduce him."

  There was a pause. Then: "That will not be necessary.

  Are you in normal operation again? Do you need assis-

  tance?"

  "How is your supply of young women?" Neq asked.

  "How is your supply of electronic equipment?"

  Neq smiled. He had a job to do, and suddenly he liked it.