Speaker 1: The link by Alan Edward Norse. It was nearly sundown
Speaker 1: when Rowdon eased the ship down into the last slow
Speaker 1: arc toward the Earth's surface. Stretching his arms and legs,
Speaker 1: he tried to relax and eased the tension in his
Speaker 1: tired muscles. Carefully, he tightened the seat belt for landing.
Speaker 1: Below him, he could see the vast, tangled expanse of
Speaker 1: jungle land spreading out to the horizon. Miles ahead was
Speaker 1: the bright circle of the landing field and the sparkling
Speaker 1: glow of the city beyond. Raften peered to the north
Speaker 1: of the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of the concert,
Speaker 1: before his ship was swallowed by the brilliant landing lights.
Speaker 1: A bell chimed softly in his ear. Robden forced his
Speaker 1: attention back to the landing operation. He was still numb
Speaker 1: and shaken from the warp passage, his mind still muddled
Speaker 1: by the abrupt and incredible change. Moments before, the sky
Speaker 1: had been a vast, starry blanket of black velvet. Then
Speaker 1: abruptly he had been hovering over the city, sliding down
Speaker 1: toward warm, friendly lights and music. He checked the proper
Speaker 1: switches and felt the throbbing purr of the antigraph motors.
Speaker 1: As the ships lit in toward the landing slot, tall
Speaker 1: spires of other ships rose to meet him, circle upon
Speaker 1: circle of silver needles pointing skyward. A little later they
Speaker 1: were blotted out as the ship was grappled into the
Speaker 1: berth from which it had risen days before. With a sigh,
Speaker 1: ribed and eased himself out of the seat, his heart
Speaker 1: pounding with excitement. Perhaps he thought he was too excited,
Speaker 1: too eager to be home, for his mind was still
Speaker 1: reeling from the fearful discovery of his journey. The station
Speaker 1: was completely empty as Robdin walked down the ramp to
Speaker 1: the shuttles. At the desk, he checked in with a
Speaker 1: shiny punch card robot and walked swiftly across the polished floor.
Speaker 1: The wall panels pulsed a somber blue green, broken sharply
Speaker 1: by brilliant flashes and overtones of scarlet, reflecting with subtle
Speaker 1: accuracy the tumult in his own mind. Not a sound
Speaker 1: was in the air, not a whisper, nor sign of
Speaker 1: human habitation. Vaguely uneasiness grew in his mind as he
Speaker 1: entered the shuttle station. Suddenly the music caught him, a long,
Speaker 1: low chord of indescribable beauty, rising and falling in the wind,
Speaker 1: a distant whisper of life. The concert, of course, every
Speaker 1: one would be at the concert to night, and even
Speaker 1: from two miles away, the beauty of four hundred perfectly
Speaker 1: harmonized voices was carried on the breeze. Robdon's uneasiness disappeared.
Speaker 1: He was eager to discharge his horrible news, get it
Speaker 1: off his mind, and join the others in the great
Speaker 1: amphitheater set deep in the hillside outside the city. But
Speaker 1: he knew instinctively that Lord Nemmon, anticipating his return, would
Speaker 1: not be at the concert. Riding the shuttle over the
Speaker 1: edges of jungle Land toward the shining, bright beauty of
Speaker 1: the sea, robbed and settled back, trying to clear his
Speaker 1: mind of the shock and horror he had encountered on
Speaker 1: his journey. The curves and spires of glowing plastic pasted him,
Speaker 1: lighted with a million ewes, he realized that his whole
Speaker 1: life was entangled in the very beauty of this wonderful city.
Speaker 1: Everything he had ever hoped or dreamed lay sheltered here
Speaker 1: in the ever changing rhythm of colors and shapes and sounds,
Speaker 1: and now he knew he would soon see his beloved
Speaker 1: city burning once again, turning to flames and ashes in
Speaker 1: a heartbreaking memorial to the age old fear of his people.
Speaker 1: The little shuttle car settled down softly on the green
Speaker 1: terrace near the center of the city. The building was
Speaker 1: a masterpiece of smoothly curving walls and tasteful lines, opening
Speaker 1: a full side to the south to catch the soft
Speaker 1: sunlight and warm breezes, robed and strode across the deep
Speaker 1: carpeting of the terrace. There was other music here, different music,
Speaker 1: a wilder, more intimate fantasy of whirling sound. An oval
Speaker 1: door opened for him, and he stopped short, staggered for
Speaker 1: a moment by the overpowering beauty. In the vaulted room,
Speaker 1: a girl with red hair, the color of new flame,
Speaker 1: was dancing with enthralling beauty and abandon her body, moving
Speaker 1: like ripples of wind to the music, which filled the
Speaker 1: room with its throbbing cry. Her beauty was exquisite, every motion,
Speaker 1: every flowing turn, a symphony of flawless perfection. As she
Speaker 1: danced to the wild music. Lord Nemmon, the dancer threw
Speaker 1: her head back sharply, eyes wide, her body frozen in
Speaker 1: mid air, and then abruptly she was gone, leaving only
Speaker 1: the barrest flickering image of her fiery hair. The music slowed,
Speaker 1: singing softly, and Raveden could see the old man waiting
Speaker 1: in the room. Nemmon rose, his gaunt face and graying
Speaker 1: hair belying the youthful movement of his body. Smiling, he
Speaker 1: came forward, clap raped in on the shoulder and took
Speaker 1: his hand warmly. You're too late for the concert. It's
Speaker 1: a shame. Mishana is the master tonight, and the whole
Speaker 1: city is there. Robdin's throat tightened as he tried to smile.
Speaker 1: I had to let you know. He said, they're coming, Nemmon.
Speaker 1: I saw them hours ago. The last overtones of the
Speaker 1: music broke abruptly, like a glass shattered on stone. The
Speaker 1: room was deathly still. Lord Neman searched the young man's face.
Speaker 1: Then he turned away, not quite concealing the sadness and
Speaker 1: pain in his eyes. You're certain you couldn't be mistaken,
Speaker 1: no chance. I found signs of their passing in a
Speaker 1: dozen places. Then I saw them, their whole fleet. There
Speaker 1: were hundreds. They're coming. I saw them. Did they see you?
Speaker 1: Neman's voice was sharp, No, No, The warp is a
Speaker 1: wonderful thing with it, I could come and go in
Speaker 1: the twinkling of an eye. But I could see them
Speaker 1: in the twinkling of an eye, and it couldn't have
Speaker 1: been anyone else. Could anyone else build ships like the hunters?
Speaker 1: Neman sighed wearily, No one that we know. He glanced
Speaker 1: up at the young man. Sit down, son, sit down.
Speaker 1: I I'll just have to rearrange my thinking a little.
Speaker 1: Where were they? How far? Seven light years? Robdin said,
Speaker 1: can you imagine it? Just seven and moving straight this way?
Speaker 1: They know where we are, and they are coming quickly.
Speaker 1: His eyes filled with fear. They couldn't have found us
Speaker 1: so soon unless they too have discovered the warp and
Speaker 1: how to use it to travel. The older man's breath
Speaker 1: cut off sharply, and there was real alarm in his eyes.
Speaker 1: You're right, he said softly. Six months ago it was
Speaker 1: eight hundred light years away in an area completely remote
Speaker 1: from us. Now just seven in six months, they have
Speaker 1: come so close. The scout looked up at and desperation.
Speaker 1: But what can we do? We have only weeks maybe days,
Speaker 1: before they're here. We have no time to plan, no
Speaker 1: time to prepare for them. What can we do? The
Speaker 1: room was silent. Finally, the aged leader stood up wearily,
Speaker 1: some fraction of his six hundred years of life showing
Speaker 1: in his face for the first time in centuries. We
Speaker 1: can do once again what we always have done before
Speaker 1: when the hunters came, he said, sadly, we can run away.
Speaker 1: The bright street below the oval window was empty and quiet.
Speaker 1: Not a breath of air stirred in the city. Raved
Speaker 1: and stared out in bitter silence. Yes, we can run away,
Speaker 1: just as we always have before. After we've worked so hard,
Speaker 1: accomplish so much here, we must burn the city and
Speaker 1: flee again. His voice trouted off to silence. He stared
Speaker 1: at Nemmen, seeking in the old man's face some answer,
Speaker 1: some reassurance, But he found no answer there, only sadness.
Speaker 1: Think of the concerts. It's taken so long, but at
Speaker 1: last we've come so close to the ultimate gull. He
Speaker 1: gestured toward the thought sensitive sounding boards lining the walls,
Speaker 1: the panels which had made the Dancer illusion possible. Think
Speaker 1: of the beauty and peace we've found here. I know
Speaker 1: how well I know. Yet now the hunters come again,
Speaker 1: and again we must run away. Robdin stared at the
Speaker 1: old man, his eyes suddenly bright. Nemmin, when I saw
Speaker 1: those ships, I began thinking, I've spent many years thinking,
Speaker 1: my son, not what I've been thinking. Rabdin sat down,
Speaker 1: clasping his hands in excitement. The hunters come and we
Speaker 1: run away, Nemen, think about that for a moment. We
Speaker 1: run and we run, and we run from what. We
Speaker 1: run from the hunters. They're hunting us, These hunters, they've
Speaker 1: never quite found us, because we've always already run. We're clever,
Speaker 1: we're fortunate, and we have way of life that they
Speaker 1: do not. So whenever they have come close to finding us,
Speaker 1: we have run. Nemon nodded slowly. For thousands of years,
Speaker 1: Rabden's eyes were bright. Yes, we flee, We cringe, We
Speaker 1: hide under stones, We break up our lives and uprid
Speaker 1: our families, running like frightened animals in the shadows of night,
Speaker 1: in secrecy. He gulped a breath, and his eyes sought
Speaker 1: Nemen's angrily. Why do we run, my lord? Nemon's eyes widened,
Speaker 1: Because we have no choice, he said, We must run
Speaker 1: or be killed. You know that you've seen the records.
Speaker 1: You've been taught. Oh yes, I know what I've been taught.
Speaker 1: I've been taught that AONs ago our remote ancestors fought
Speaker 1: the hunters and lost and fled and were pursued. But
Speaker 1: why do we keep running? Time after time we've been
Speaker 1: cornered and we've turned and fled. Why even animals know
Speaker 1: that when they're cornered they must turn and fight. We
Speaker 1: are not animals. Neman's voice cut the air like a
Speaker 1: whip latch. But we could fight eight animals fight. We
Speaker 1: do not. We fought once like animals, and now we
Speaker 1: must run from the hunters who continue to fight like animals.
Speaker 1: So be it. Let the hunters fight. Rowden shook his head.
Speaker 1: Do you mean that the hunters are not men like us?
Speaker 1: He said, that's what you're saying, that they are animals?
Speaker 1: All right? We kill animals for our food. Isn't that true?
Speaker 1: We kill the tiger beasts in the jungle to protect ourselves.
Speaker 1: Why not kill the hunters to protect ourselves. Nemmon sighed
Speaker 1: and reached out a hand of the young man. I'm sorry,
Speaker 1: he said, gently. It seems logical, but it's false. Logic.
Speaker 1: The hunters are men, just like you and me. Their
Speaker 1: lives are different, their culture is different, but they are men,
Speaker 1: and human life is sacred to us above all else.
Speaker 1: This is the fundamental basis of our very existence. Without it,
Speaker 1: we would be hunters too. If we fight, we are dead,
Speaker 1: even if we live. That's why we must run away
Speaker 1: now and always, because we know that we must not
Speaker 1: kill men. On the street below, the night air was
Speaker 1: suddenly full of voices, chattering intermingled with whispers of song
Speaker 1: and occasional brief harmonic flutterings. The footfalls were muted on
Speaker 1: the polished pavement as the people passed slowly, their voices
Speaker 1: carrying a hint of puzzled uneasiness. The concert's over riped
Speaker 1: and walked to the window, feeling a chill pass through him.
Speaker 1: So soon, I wonder why. Eagerly he searched the faces
Speaker 1: passing in the street for Dana's face, sensing the lurking
Speaker 1: discord in the quiet talk of the crowd. Suddenly the
Speaker 1: soundboards in the room tinkled a chillion of ruby tones
Speaker 1: in his ear, and she was in the room, rushing
Speaker 1: into his arms with a happy cry, pressing her soft
Speaker 1: cheek to his rough chin. You're back. Oh, I'm so glad,
Speaker 1: so very glad. She turned to the old Mannemn what
Speaker 1: has happened? The concert was run tonight. There was something
Speaker 1: in the air. Everybody felt it. For some reason, the
Speaker 1: people seemed afraid. Rafton turned away from his bride. Tell her,
Speaker 1: he said to the old man. Dana looked at them,
Speaker 1: her gray eyes widening in horror. The hunters they found us.
Speaker 1: Robden nodded wordlessly. Her hands trembled as she sat down,
Speaker 1: and there were tears in her eyes. We came so
Speaker 1: close to night, so very close. I've felt the music
Speaker 1: before it was sung. Do you realize that I've felt
Speaker 1: the fear around me? Even though no one said a word.
Speaker 1: It wasn't vague or fuzzy. It was clear. The transference
Speaker 1: was perfect. She turned to face the old man. It's
Speaker 1: taken so long to come this far, Neemmin, so much work,
Speaker 1: so much training to reach a perfect communal concert. We've
Speaker 1: had only two hundred years here, only two hundred. I
Speaker 1: was just a little girl when we came. I can't
Speaker 1: even remember before that. Before we came here, we were
Speaker 1: undisturbed for a thousand years. And before that four thousand,
Speaker 1: but two hundred. We can't leave now, not when we've
Speaker 1: come so far. Radden nodded. That's the trouble. They come
Speaker 1: closer every time. This time they will catch us, or
Speaker 1: the next time, or the next, and that will be
Speaker 1: the end of everything for us, unless we fight them.
Speaker 1: He paused, watching the last groups dispersing on the street below.
Speaker 1: If we only knew for certain what we were running from,
Speaker 1: there was a startled silence. The girl's breath came in
Speaker 1: a gasp, and her eyes widened as his words sank home. Rafton,
Speaker 1: she said softly, have you ever seen a hunter? Rafden
Speaker 1: stared at her and felt a chill of excitement. Music
Speaker 1: burst from the sounding board, awed wild music, suddenly hopeful. No,
Speaker 1: he said, no, of course not. You know that. The
Speaker 1: girl rose from her seat. Nor have I never? Not
Speaker 1: Once she turned to Lord Nemmon, Have you never? The
Speaker 1: old man's voice was harsh. Has anyone ever seen a hunter?
Speaker 1: Raftn's hands trembled. I don't know, none of us living now. No,
Speaker 1: it's been too long since they last actually found us.
Speaker 1: I've read, Oh, I can't remember. I think my grandfather
Speaker 1: saw them, or my great grandfather somewhere back there. It's
Speaker 1: been thousands of years, yet we've been tearing ourselves up
Speaker 1: by the roots, fleeing from planet to planet, running and dying,
Speaker 1: and still running. But suppose we don't need to run anymore?
Speaker 1: He stared at her. They keep coming, they keep searching
Speaker 1: for us. What more proof do you need? Dana's face
Speaker 1: glowed with excitement, alive with new vitality, new hope, Rafting,
Speaker 1: can't you see they might have changed, They might not
Speaker 1: be the same. Things can happen? Look at us, how
Speaker 1: we've grown since the wars with the Hunters. Think how
Speaker 1: our philosophy and culture have matured. Oh, Rafton, you were
Speaker 1: to be a master at a concert next month? Think
Speaker 1: how the concerts have changed. Even my grandmother can remember
Speaker 1: when the concerts were just a few performers playing and
Speaker 1: everyone else just sitting and listening. Can you imagine anything
Speaker 1: more silly? They hadn't even thought of transference, then, They
Speaker 1: never dreamed what a real concert could be. Why those
Speaker 1: people had never begun to understand music until they themselves
Speaker 1: became a part of it. Even we can see these changes.
Speaker 1: Why couldn't the Hunters have grown and change just as
Speaker 1: we have Nemon's voice broke in, almost harshly, as he
Speaker 1: faced the excited pair. The Hunters don't have concerts, he said, grimly,
Speaker 1: you're deluding yourself, Dana. They laugh at our music, They
Speaker 1: scoff at our arts and twist them into obscene mockeries.
Speaker 1: They have no concept of beauty in their language. The
Speaker 1: Hunters are incapable of change. And can you be certain
Speaker 1: of that when nobody has seen them for thousands of years?
Speaker 1: Nemon met her steady eyes, read the strength and determination there,
Speaker 1: knew despairingly what she was thinking. That he was old,
Speaker 1: that he couldn't understand, that his mind was channeled now
Speaker 1: beyond the approach of wisdom. You mustn't think what you're thinking,
Speaker 1: he said weakly. You'd be blind, You wouldn't know, You
Speaker 1: couldn't have any idea what you would find if you
Speaker 1: try to contact them. You could be lost, completely tortured, killed.
Speaker 1: If they haven't changed, you wouldn't stand a chance. You'd
Speaker 1: never come back, Dana. But she's still right all the same,
Speaker 1: Robin said, softly, you're wrong, my lord. We can't continue
Speaker 1: this way afoord to survive. Sometime our people must contact them,
Speaker 1: find the link that was once between us and force
Speaker 1: it strong again. We could do it, Dana and I.
Speaker 1: I could forbid you to go. Dana looked at her husband,
Speaker 1: and her eyes were proud. You could forbid us, she said,
Speaker 1: facing the old man, but you could never stop us.
Speaker 1: At the edge of the jungle land, a great beast
Speaker 1: stood with green gleams, licking his fanged jaws as he
Speaker 1: watched the glowing city, sensing somehow that the mystifying circle
Speaker 1: of light and motion was soon to become his jungle
Speaker 1: land again. In the city, the turmoil bubbled over as
Speaker 1: wave after wave of the people made the short safari
Speaker 1: across the intervening jungle to the circles of their ships. Husbands, wives, fathers,
Speaker 1: mothers all carried their small, frail remembrances out to the ships.
Speaker 1: There was music among them still, but it was a
Speaker 1: different sort of music now, and eerie, hopeless music that
Speaker 1: drifted out of the city in the wind. It caused
Speaker 1: all but the bravest of the beasts, their hair prickling
Speaker 1: on their backs, to run in panic through the jungle darkness.
Speaker 1: It was a melancholy music, carried from thought to thought,
Speaker 1: from voice to voice, as the people of the city
Speaker 1: wearily prepared themselves once again for the long journey to
Speaker 1: run away in the darkness of secrecy, to be gone
Speaker 1: without a trace, without symbol or vestige of their presence,
Speaker 1: leaving only the scorched circle of land for the jungle
Speaker 1: to reclaim, so that no eyes, not even the sharpest,
Speaker 1: would ever know how long they had stayed, nor where
Speaker 1: they might have gone. In the rounded room of his house,
Speaker 1: Lord Nemon dispatched the last of his belongings, a few remembrances,
Speaker 1: nothing more, because the space on the ships must take people,
Speaker 1: not remembrances, and he knew that the remembrances would bring
Speaker 1: only pain all day. Nemen had supervised the loading, the
Speaker 1: intricate preparation following plans laid down millennia before he saw
Speaker 1: the libraries and records transported mile upon endless mile of
Speaker 1: microfilm carted to the ships, prepared to carry them stored
Speaker 1: until a new resting place was found. The history of
Speaker 1: a people was recorded on that film, a people once
Speaker 1: proud and strong, now equally proud, but dwindling in numbers,
Speaker 1: as told for the constant roving, A proud people, yet
Speaker 1: a people who would turn and run without thought in
Speaker 1: a panic of age old fear. They had to run.
Speaker 1: Nemon knew if they were to survive, and with a
Speaker 1: blaze of anger in his heart, he almost hated the
Speaker 1: two young people waiting here with him for the last
Speaker 1: ship to be filled, for these two would not go.
Speaker 1: It had been a long and painful night. He had
Speaker 1: pleaded and begged, tried to persuade them that there was
Speaker 1: no hope, that the very idea of remaining behind or
Speaker 1: trying to contact the hunters was insane. Yet he knew
Speaker 1: they were sane, perhaps unwise naive, but their decision had
Speaker 1: been reached and they would not be shaken. The day
Speaker 1: was almost gone, as the last ships began to fill.
Speaker 1: Nemon turned to Rothdon and Dana, his face lined and tired.
Speaker 1: You'll have to go soon, he said. The city will
Speaker 1: be burned, of course, as always, You'll be left with
Speaker 1: food and with weapons against the jungle. The hunters will
Speaker 1: know that we've been here, but they'll know when nor
Speaker 1: where we have gone. He paused. It will be up
Speaker 1: to you to see that they don't learn. Dana shook
Speaker 1: her head. We'll tell them nothing unless it's safe for
Speaker 1: them to know. They'll question you even torture you, she
Speaker 1: smiled calmly. Perhaps they won't, but as a last resort,
Speaker 1: we can blank out. Nemon's face went white. You know
Speaker 1: there is no coming back. Once you do that, you
Speaker 1: would never regain your memory. You must save it for
Speaker 1: a last resort. Down below, on the street, the last
Speaker 1: groups of people were passing. The last sweet, eery tones
Speaker 1: of the concert were rising in the gathering twilight. Soon,
Speaker 1: the last families would have taken their refuge in the ships,
Speaker 1: waiting for Nemen to trigger the fire bombs to ignite
Speaker 1: the beautiful city. After the ships started on their voyage,
Speaker 1: the concerts were over. There would be long years of
Speaker 1: aimless wandering before another home could be found, another planet
Speaker 1: saved from the hunters and their ships. Even then, it
Speaker 1: would be more years before the Concerts could again rise
Speaker 1: from their hearts and throats and minds, generations before they
Speaker 1: could begin work again toward the climactic expression of their heritage.
Speaker 1: Rafden felt the desolation in the people's minds, saw the
Speaker 1: utter hopelessness in the old man's face, and suddenly felt
Speaker 1: the pressure of despair. It was such a slender hope,
Speaker 1: so frail and so dangerous. He knew of the terrible fight,
Speaker 1: the war of his people against the hunters, so many
Speaker 1: thousand years before they had risen together a common people,
Speaker 1: their home, a single planet, and then the gradual splitting
Speaker 1: of the nations. His own people living in peace, seeking
Speaker 1: the growth and beauty of the arts, despising the bitterness
Speaker 1: and barrenness of hatred and killing, and the hunters, under
Speaker 1: an iron hill of militarism, of government for the perpetuation
Speaker 1: of government, split farther and farther from them. It was
Speaker 1: an ever widening split, as the hunters sneered and ridiculed,
Speaker 1: and then grew to hate Rabden's people for all the
Speaker 1: things the hunters were losing. Peace, love, happiness. Ravda knew
Speaker 1: of his people, slowly dawning awareness of the sanctity of life,
Speaker 1: shattered abruptly by the horrible wars, and then the centuries
Speaker 1: of fear and flight, hiding from the wrath of the
Speaker 1: hunter's vengeance. His people had learned much in those long years.
Speaker 1: They had conquered disease, they had grown in strength as
Speaker 1: they dwindled in numbers. But now the end could be
Speaker 1: seen crystal clear, the end of his people in a
Speaker 1: ghastly grave Nemon's voice broke the silence. If you must
Speaker 1: stay behind, then go now. The city will burn an
Speaker 1: hour after the countdown. We will be safe outside the city.
Speaker 1: Dana gripped her husband's hand, trying to transmit to him
Speaker 1: some part of her strength and confidence. Wish is the best, Nemen.
Speaker 1: If a link can be forged, we will forge it.
Speaker 1: I wish you the best in everything. There were tears
Speaker 1: in the old man's eyes as he turned and left
Speaker 1: the room. They stood in the jungle land, listening to
Speaker 1: the scurry of frightened animals and shivering in the cool
Speaker 1: night air, as the bright sparks of the ships exhaust
Speaker 1: faded into the black, starry sky. A man and a
Speaker 1: woman alone, speechless, watching, staring with awful longing into the skies.
Speaker 1: As the bright rocket jets dwindled to specks and flickered out,
Speaker 1: the city burned, Purple spumes of flame shot high into
Speaker 1: the air, throwing a ghastly light on the frightened jungle land.
Speaker 1: Spires of flame seemed to be seeking the stars with
Speaker 1: their fingers as the plastic walls and streets of the
Speaker 1: city hissed and shriveled, blackening bubbling into a vanishing memory
Speaker 1: before their eyes. The flames shot high, carrying with them
Speaker 1: the last remnants of the city, which had stood proud
Speaker 1: and tall an hour before. Then a silence fell, deathly,
Speaker 1: like the lifeless silence of a grave. Out of the silence,
Speaker 1: little whispering sounds of the jungle land crept to their ears,
Speaker 1: first frightened, then curious, then bolder and boulder as the
Speaker 1: wisp of grass and little animals ventured out and out
Speaker 1: toward the clearing where the city had stood. Bit by bit,
Speaker 1: the jungle land gathered courage, and the clearing slowly, silently
Speaker 1: began to disappear. Days later, new sparks of light appeared
Speaker 1: in the black sky. They grew to larger specks, then
Speaker 1: to flares, and finally settled to the earth as powerful
Speaker 1: flaming jets. They were squat, misshapen vessels, circling down like vultures, hissing, screeching,
Speaker 1: landing with a grinding crash in the tall thicket near
Speaker 1: the place where the city had stood. Robden's signal had
Speaker 1: guided them in, and hunters had seen them standing on
Speaker 1: a hilltop above the demolished amphitheater men had come out
Speaker 1: of the ships, large men with cold faces and dull eyes,
Speaker 1: weapons strapped to their trim uniforms. The hunters had blinked
Speaker 1: at them, unbelieving. With their weapons held it ready, Robdon
Speaker 1: and Dana were seen and led to the flagship. As
Speaker 1: they approached it, their hearts sank and they clasped hands
Speaker 1: to bolster their failing hope. The leader of the hunters
Speaker 1: looked up from his desk as they were thrust into
Speaker 1: his cabin. Frankele's face was a graven mask as he
Speaker 1: searched their faces dispassionately. The captives were pale and seemed
Speaker 1: to cringe from the pale interrogation light. Chickens. The hunter snorted,
Speaker 1: we've been hunting down chickens. His eyes turned to one
Speaker 1: of the guards. They have been searched, of course, master,
Speaker 1: and questioned. The guard frowned, yes, sir, but their language
Speaker 1: is almost unintelligible. You've studied the basic tongues, haven't you.
Speaker 1: Frankele's voice was as cold as his eyes. Of course, sir,
Speaker 1: but this is so different. Frankel stared and contempt at
Speaker 1: the fair skinned captives, fixing his eyes on them for
Speaker 1: a long moment. Finally, he said, well, Raveden glanced briefly
Speaker 1: at Dana's white face. His voice seemed weak and high pitched,
Speaker 1: and comparison to the hunter's baritone. You are the leader
Speaker 1: of the Hunters, Frankel regarded him sourly, without replying. His
Speaker 1: thin face was swarthy, his short cut gray hair matching
Speaker 1: the cold gray of his eyes. It was an odd face,
Speaker 1: completely blank of any thought or emotion, yet capable of
Speaker 1: shifting to a strange, biting, slyness in the briefest instant.
Speaker 1: It was a rich face, a face of inscrutable depth.
Speaker 1: He pushed his chair back, his eyes watchful. We know
Speaker 1: your people were here, he said, suddenly. Now they've gone,
Speaker 1: and yet you remained behind. There must be a reason
Speaker 1: for such rashness. Are you sick? Crippled? Raveden shook his head.
Speaker 1: We are not sick. Then, criminals, perhaps being punished for
Speaker 1: rebellious plots. We are not criminals. The Hunter's fist crashed
Speaker 1: on the desk. Then why are you here? Why are
Speaker 1: you going to tell me now? Or do you propose
Speaker 1: to waste a few hours of my time? First, there
Speaker 1: is no mystery, Robin said softly. We stayed behind to
Speaker 1: plead for peace, For peace, Frankele stared in disbelief. Then
Speaker 1: he shrugged, his face tired. I might have known peace.
Speaker 1: Where have your people gone? Rabden met him, eye for I.
Speaker 1: I can't say, the hunter laughed. Let's be precise. You
Speaker 1: don't choose to say just now, but perhaps very soon
Speaker 1: you will wish with all your heart to tell me.
Speaker 1: Dana's voice was sharp. We're telling you the truth. We
Speaker 1: want peace, nothing more. This constant hunting and running is senseless,
Speaker 1: exhausting to both of us. We want to make peace
Speaker 1: with you, to bring our people together again. Frankele snorted.
Speaker 1: You came to us in war once long ago. Now
Speaker 1: you want peace, What would you do? Clasp us to
Speaker 1: your bosom, smother us in your idiotic music, or have
Speaker 1: you gone on to greater things? Raveden's face flushed hotly,
Speaker 1: much greater things, he snapped. Frankell sat down slowly, no doubt,
Speaker 1: he said. Now understand me clearly, Very soon you will
Speaker 1: be killed. How quickly or slowly you die will depend
Speaker 1: largely upon the civility of your tongues. A civil tongue
Speaker 1: answers questions with the right answers. That is my definition
Speaker 1: of a civil tongue. He sat back coldly. Now shall
Speaker 1: we commence asking questions? Dana stepped forward suddenly, her cheeks flushed.
Speaker 1: We don't have the words to express ourselves, she said softly.
Speaker 1: We can't tell you in words what we have to say.
Speaker 1: But music is the language even you can understand. We
Speaker 1: can tell you what we want in music. Frankele scowled.
Speaker 1: He knew about the magic of this music. He had
Speaker 1: heard of the witchcraft these weak chicken people could weave
Speaker 1: of their strange magic power to still strong men's minds
Speaker 1: from them and make them like children before wolves. But
Speaker 1: he had never heard this music with his own ears.
Speaker 1: He looked at them, his eyes strangely bright. You know
Speaker 1: I cannot listen to your music. It is forbidden. Even
Speaker 1: you should know that. How dare you propose? But this
Speaker 1: is different music. Dana's eyes widened, and she threw an
Speaker 1: excited glance at her husband. Our music is beautiful, wonderful
Speaker 1: to hear, if you could only hear it. Never, the
Speaker 1: man hesitated. Your music is forbidden, poisonous. Her smile was
Speaker 1: like a sweet wine, a smile that worked into the
Speaker 1: hunter's mind like a gentle, lazy drug. But who is
Speaker 1: to permit or forbid. After all, you are the leader here,
Speaker 1: and forbidden pleasures are all the sweeter. Frankele's eyes were
Speaker 1: on hers, fascinated. Slowly, with a graceful movement, she drew
Speaker 1: the gleaming, thought sensitive stone from her clothing. It glowed
Speaker 1: in the room with a pearly luminescence, and she saw
Speaker 1: the man's eyes turning to it, drawn as if by magic.
Speaker 1: Then he looked away, and a cruel smile curled his lips.
Speaker 1: He motioned toward the stone. All right, he said, mockingly,
Speaker 1: do your worst, show me your precious music. Like a
Speaker 1: tinkle of glass breaking in a well, the stone flashed
Speaker 1: its fiery light in the room. Little swirls of music
Speaker 1: seemed to swell from it, blossoming in the silence. Frankle tensed,
Speaker 1: a chill running up his spine, his eyes drawn back
Speaker 1: to the gleaming jewel. Suddenly the music filled the room,
Speaker 1: rising sweetly like an overpowering wave, filling his mind with
Speaker 1: strange and wonderful images. The stone shimmered and changed, taking
Speaker 1: the form of dancing clouds of light, swirling with the music.
Speaker 1: As it rose. Frankel felt his mind groping toward the music,
Speaker 1: trying desperately to reach into the heart of it, to
Speaker 1: become part of it. Robdon and Dana stood there trance like,
Speaker 1: staring transfixed at the gleaming center of light, forcing their
Speaker 1: joined minds to create the crashing, majestic chords as the
Speaker 1: song lifted from the depths of oblivion to the high
Speaker 1: of glory. In the old old song of their people,
Speaker 1: a song of majesty and strength and dignity, a song
Speaker 1: of love, of aspiration, a song of achievement, a song
Speaker 1: of peoples driven by ancient fears across the eons of space,
Speaker 1: seeking only peace, even peace with those who drove them.
Speaker 1: Frankel heard the music and could not comprehend, for his
Speaker 1: mind could not grasp the meaning the true overtones of
Speaker 1: those glorious chords. But he felt the strangeness and the
Speaker 1: pangs of fear which groped through his mind. Cringing from
Speaker 1: the wonderful strains. Dazzled by the dancing light, he stared,
Speaker 1: wide eyed and trembling at the couple across the room,
Speaker 1: and for an instant it seemed that he was stripped naked.
Speaker 1: For a fleeting moment, the authority was gone from his face.
Speaker 1: Gone too, was the cruelty, the avarice, the sardonic mockery.
Speaker 1: For the briefest moment, his cold gray eyes grew incredibly tender,
Speaker 1: with a sudden aim, long forgotten, longing, crying at last
Speaker 1: to be heard, And then with a scream of rage,
Speaker 1: he was stumbling into the midst of the light, lashing
Speaker 1: out wildly at the heart of its shimmering brilliance. His
Speaker 1: huge hand caught the hypnotic stone and swept it into crashing,
Speaker 1: ear splitting cacophony against the cold, still bulkhead. He stood rigid,
Speaker 1: his whole body shaking, eyes blazing with fear and anger
Speaker 1: and hatred. As he turned on Robdin and Dana. His
Speaker 1: voice was a raging storm of bitterness, drowning out the
Speaker 1: dying strains of the music spies. You thought you could
Speaker 1: steal my mind away, make me forget my duty and
Speaker 1: listen to your rotten, poisonous noise. Well you failed, Do
Speaker 1: you hear I didn't hear it. I didn't listen. I didn't.
Speaker 1: I'll hunt you down as my father's hunted you down.
Speaker 1: I'll bring my people their vengeance and glory, and your
Speaker 1: foul music will be dead. He turned to the guards wildly,
Speaker 1: his hands still trembling. Take them out, whip them, burn them,
Speaker 1: Do anything but find out where their people have gone.
Speaker 1: Find out music will take the music out of them
Speaker 1: once and for all. The inquisition had been horrible. Their
Speaker 1: minds had no concept of such horror, such relentless racking pain,
Speaker 1: the blazing lights, the questions screaming in their ears, Frankel's
Speaker 1: vicious eyes burning in frustration, and their own screams rising
Speaker 1: with each question. They would not answer until their throats
Speaker 1: were scorched and they could no longer scream. Finally, they
Speaker 1: reached the limit they could endure and muttered together the
Speaker 1: hoarse words that could deliver them, Not words that Frankel
Speaker 1: could hear, but words to bring deliverance, to blank out
Speaker 1: their minds like a wet sponge over slate. The hypnotic
Speaker 1: key clicked into the lock of their minds. Their screams
Speaker 1: died in their brains. Frankel stared at them and knew
Speaker 1: instantly what they had done, a technique memory obliteration, known
Speaker 1: and dreaded for so many thousands of years that history
Speaker 1: could not remember. As his captives stood mindless before him,
Speaker 1: he let out one hoarse, agonized scream of frustration and defeat.
Speaker 1: But strangely enough, he did not kill them. He left
Speaker 1: them on a cold stone ledge, blinking dumbly at each other,
Speaker 1: as the ships of his fleet rose one by one
Speaker 1: and vanished like fireflies in the dark night sky. Naked,
Speaker 1: they sat alone on the planet of jungle Land. They
Speaker 1: knew no words, no music, nothing, and they did not
Speaker 1: even know that in the departing ships a seed had
Speaker 1: been planted. For Frankel had heard the music, he had
Speaker 1: grasped the beauty of his enemies for that brief instant,
Speaker 1: and in that instant they had become less his enemies.
Speaker 1: A tiny seed of doubt had been planted. The seed
Speaker 1: would grow. The two sat dumbly, shivering. Far in the distance.
Speaker 1: A beast roared against the heavy night, and a light
Speaker 1: rain began to fall. They sat naked, the rain soaking
Speaker 1: their skin and hair. Then one of them grunted and
Speaker 1: moved into the dry darkness of the cave. Deep within him,
Speaker 1: some instinct spoke, warning him to fear the roar of
Speaker 1: the animal. Blinking dully, the woman crept into the cave
Speaker 1: after him. Three thoughts alone filled their empty minds, not
Speaker 1: thoughts of Nemen and his people. To them, Nemen had
Speaker 1: never existed, forgotten as completely as if he had never been.
Speaker 1: No thoughts of the hunters either, nor of their unheard
Speaker 1: of mercy in leaving them their lives lives of memoryless oblivion,
Speaker 1: like animals in this green jungle land, but lives none
Speaker 1: the less. Only three thoughts filled their minds. It was raining,
Speaker 1: they were hungry. The saber tooth was prowling to night.
Speaker 1: They never knew that the link had been forged. End
Speaker 1: of the Link by Alan Edward Norse