shirt. His face and arms were marked with scratches from brush. One cheek was bleeding. He had turned about, suddenly, and then, with a grunt, seized up the weapon and hurried down the backtrail. Now he was red-faced. He was breathing heavily. He stumbled, and regained his balance. He put one hand out, to steady himself. His paunch swayed. He is finished, thought Brenner. He is done. He is old. That brave animal, that irascible, uncompromising unique individual, that thing that dared to be different in a world of mediocrity and conformity, that hunter, that explorer, that soldier, that thing that lived by its own stars, that acute intellect, that heart of hearts is done. That body, insulted by age, withered in time, abused by Heimat and weed, is cargo now. He had been sent to Abydos to die. But he had come because he wanted to. There was something on Abydos about which he was curious, something he did not understand, something which might have to do with what he thought of as “the beginning.”
“Did you see anything?” asked Brenner.
“I had thought I did,” said Rodriguez.
“But not now?”
“No,” said Rodriguez, sitting down on the ground. “No.” He put the tube to one side. The Pons looked at it.
“We will rest for a time,” said Brenner to the Pons.
“It has been drifting with us,” said Rodriguez, “like a shark following a ship.”
“There is nothing,” said Brenner.
“It is always downwind.” said Rodriguez.
“There is nothing there,” said Brenner.
“It is the predator’s ambush,” said Rodriguez, absently.
“The shadows are subtle in the forest,” said Brenner. “There could be a mix of light and darkness, a movement of a branch, such things. It is easy to misinterpret such things.”
“You think that is what I have done?” asked Rodriguez.
“Yes,” said Brenner.
“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.
“Certainly,” said Brenner.
“I do not think so,” said Rodriguez.
After a time the party rose up and continued its journey.
“Do you feel better now?” asked Brenner.
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
Chapter 12
“It is to be a ceremony of some sort,” said Brenner.
It was now night.
On the next day they had been given to understand that the village would be reached.
“The git is apparently to play some role in the ceremony,” said Brenner.
“Naturally,” said Rodriguez.
“You aren’t going to use the camera,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez. This made sense to Brenner. After all, the Pons might be familiar with cameras from Company Station, and the effects of their operation. Some primitive peoples objected to the capturing of their images, so to speak. Some feared this might steal their souls. For such reasons, and because they were still strange to the Pons, Rodriguez and Brenner would not attempt to film the ceremony, that in spite of the fact that the camera was dark-adapted. Rodriguez did have a small recorder with him. That, of course, could be easily concealed.
The Pons were in a circle.
Rodriguez and Brenner stood back, that they might not be obtrusive. They were close enough, of course, for the effective functioning of the recorder.
In the center of the circle of the Pons was a small cage of twigs. Within it, crouching down, was a tiny, stub-tailed rodent, the Abydian mouse, or git. Brenner could have held it, squirming, in his hand. This had been caught in a nest of rotted wood, half under a fallen log, earlier in the afternoon, in a sack, and then placed in the small enclosure of twigs, about which the Pons were gathered.
Rodriguez put on the recorder.
“We love you, father,” called a Pon, the voice high in the night.
“‘Father’?” asked Brenner.
“The totem animal,” said Rodriguez. “It is always referred to as “ancestor,” as “father,” as “primal father,” and such. The totem group regards itself as descended from it.”
“That is absurd,” said Brenner.
“Surely you are familiar with totemistic theory,” said Rodriguez. “The totem bond is regarded by these people as one of complete consanguinity, as one of blood, literally one of blood.”
“Forgive us, father, for what we have done,” called the Pon. “We are contrite! Show us forbearance! Be kind to us! Cherish us. Protect us! We will refrain from touching the soft ones!”
“That is exogamy, denial of the in-group females to the in-group males,” said Rodriguez. Brenner nodded. The two central tenets of totemism were reverence for the totem animal, respecting it, sparing it, and such, and exogamy. Mating was forbidden within a given totem.
“We beg your forgiveness, father!” called the voice.
“What did they do?” asked Brenner.
“Probably nothing,” said Rodriguez. “Maybe they have thought about breaking a taboo, or something, who knows?”
“Forgive us, father,”