I did the most cowardly thing a man could do: I stood up and betrayed
my country, my world, and my entire breed. But I did it because I knew
exactly how much I could take before I cracked--and while I might
withstand their worst for a little while, they would inevitably do
things to Nessa which I could not take.
"Skagarach," I said, "I won't try to fool you. I don't have any dawn
memory. As far as I know I never ranged the fens or slew the upstart
Man in the ages past." I was talking like him. He was an overwhelming
personality. "But I know this: I feel a terrible, inchoate anger
against almost everything. I think it must be what you call the primal
rage. And I also feel a hell of a strong kinship with you, if not with
Bill Cuff. I lied to you. My brother and the space station aren't on
Pompey. They're on Odo Island."
"Well," he said easily, "well, I thought you might have been trying
to outwit us. I thought we might have to flay your woman an inch at a
time to make you talk. But by God, that knock on the cranium fixed you!
Congratulations--and welcome to the Old Companions." He chuckled. "If
you wonder why we trusted your first word to such an extent, I'll say
that we knew the moon was on one of these islands. We knew that if it
wasn't Pompey, it wouldn't be too damned far." He started forward in
the boat. "I'll change our course," he said.
And it was at that moment that I realized something. I had turned
traitor because I couldn't let my wife be maltreated. I had counted on
a feeble plot, a one-in-a-thousand chance that I would be able to beat
the Old Companions; and I'd known quite well that I was only excusing
myself for my craven weakness. Only now did I remember that the real
answer, the only thing a _man_ could have honorably done, was to kill
Nessa and myself immediately--to grip her and leap into the sea, and
dive deep and deeper until we both drowned. Then my wife would have
been safe from them, and I would be dead with a clean conscience.
But it was much too late to think of that now.
I flung myself down beside her, put my arms around her waist, and began
softly and vividly cursing myself for the prize fool and the biggest
yellow-livered skunk of all time.
CHAPTER VII
We came in toward the shores of Odo Island at ten minutes to midnight.
Bill Cuff and Skagarach and Trutch and I were sitting on the top of the
bow ramp in the lead boat, straining our eyes toward the small forested
bit of earth ahead. Starshine showed us a broken coastline of rock that
didn't look passable, not for a monkey. I said so. Bill Cuff muttered,
"We can make it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account