The Defiant Agents Read online

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  Travis, one knee braced against the red earth, blinked as he parted ascreen of tall rust-brown grass with cautious fingers to look out into avalley where golden mist clouded most of the landscape. His head achedwith dull persistence, the pain fostered in some way by his ownbewilderment. To study the land ahead was like trying to see through onepicture interposed over another and far different one. He knew whatought to be there, but what was before him was very dissimilar.

  A buff-gray shape flitted through the tall cover grass, and Travistensed. _Mba'a_--coyote? Or were these companions of his actually_ga-n_, spirits who could choose their shape at will and had, oddly,this time assumed the bodies of man's tricky enemy? Were they_ndendai_--enemies--or _dalaanbiyat'i_, allies? In this mad world he didnot know.

  _Ei'dik'e?_ His mind formed a word he did not speak: Friend?

  Yellow eyes met his directly. Dimly he had been aware, ever sinceawaking in this strange wilderness with the coming of morning light,that the four-footed ones trotting with him as he walked aimlessly hadunbeastlike traits. Not only did they face him eye-to-eye, but in someways they appeared able to read his thoughts.

  He had longed for water to ease the burning in his throat, theever-present pain in his head, and the creatures had nudged him inanother direction, bringing him to a pool where he had mouthed liquidwith a strange sweet, but not unpleasant taste.

  Now he had given them names, names which had come out of the welter ofdreams which shadowed his stumbling journey across this weird country.

  Nalik'ideyu (Maiden-Who-Walks-Ridges) was the female who continued toshepherd him along, never venturing too far from his side. Naginlta(He-Who-Scouts-Ahead) was the male who did just that, disappearing atlong intervals and then returning to face the man and his mate as ifconveying some report necessary to their journey.

  It was Nalik'ideyu who sought out Travis now, her red tongue lollingfrom her mouth as she panted. Not from exertion, he was certain of that.No, she was excited and eager ... on the hunt! That was it--a hunt!

  Travis' own tongue ran across his lips as an impression hit him withferal force. There was meat--rich, fresh--just ahead. Meat that lived,waiting to be killed. Inside him his own avid hunger roused, shaking himfarther out of the crusting dream.

  His hands went to his waist, but the groping fingers did not find whatvague memory told him should be there--a belt, heavy with knife insheath.

  He examined his own body with attention to find he was adequatelycovered by breeches of a smooth, dull brown material which blended wellwith the vegetation about him. He wore a loose shirt, belted in at thenarrow waist by a folded strip of cloth, the ends of which flutteredfree. On his feet were tall moccasins, the leg pieces extending somedistance up his calves, the toes turned up in rounded points.

  Some of this he found familiar, but these were fragments of memory;again his mind fitted one picture above another. One thing he did knowfor sure--he had no weapons. And that realization struck home with athrust of real and terrible fear which tore away more of thebewilderment cloaking his mind.

  Nalik'ideyu was impatient. Having advanced a step or two, she now lookedback at him over her shoulder, yellow eyes slitted, her demand on him asinstant and real as if she had voiced understandable words. Meat waswaiting, and she was hungry. Also she expected Travis to aid in thehunt--at once.

  Though he could not match her fluid grace in moving through the grass,Travis followed her, keeping to cover. He shook his head vigorously, inspite of the stab of pain the motion cost him, and paid more attentionto his surroundings. It was apparent that the earth under him, the grassaround, the valley of the golden haze, were all real, not part of adream. Therefore that other countryside which he kept seeing in aghostly fashion was a hallucination.

  Even the air which he drew into his lungs and expelled again, had astrange smell, or was it taste? He could not be sure which. He knew thathypno-training could produce queer side effects, but ... this....

  Travis paused, staring unseeingly before him at the grass still wavingfrom the coyote's passage. Hypno-training! What was that? Now threepictures fought to focus in his mind: the two landscapes which did notmatch and a shadowy third. He shook his head again, his hands to histemples. This--this only was real: the ground, the grass, the valley,the hunger in him, the hunt waiting....

  He forced himself to concentrate on the immediate present and theportion of world he could see, feel, scent, which lay here and now abouthim.

  The grass grew shorter as he proceeded in Nalik'ideyu's wake. But thehaze was not thinning. It seemed to hang in patches, and when heventured through the edge of a patch it was like creeping through a fogof golden, dancing motes with here and there a glittering speck whirlingand darting like a living thing. Masked by the stuff, Travis reached aline of brush and sniffed.

  It was a warm scent, a heavy odor he could not identify and yet one heassociated with a living creature. Flat to earth, he pushed head andshoulders under the low limbs of the bush to look ahead.

  Here was a space where the fog did not hold, a pocket of earth clearunder the morning sun. And grazing there were three animals. Again shockcleared a portion of Travis' bemused brain.

  They were about the size, he thought, of antelopes, and they had ageneral resemblance to those beasts in that they had four slender legs,a rounded body, and a head. But they had alien features, so alien as tohold him in open-mouthed amazement.

  The bodies had bare spots here and there, and patches of creamy--fur? Orwas it hair which hung in strips, as if the creatures had been partiallyplucked in a careless fashion? The necks were long and moved about in aserpentine motion, as though their spines were as limber as reptiles'.On the end of those long and twisting necks were heads which alsoappeared more suitable to another species--broad, rather flat, with asingular toadlike look--but furnished with horns set halfway down thenose, horns which began in a single root and then branched into twosharp points.

  They were unearthly! Again Travis blinked, brought his hand up to hishead as he continued to view the browsers. There were three of them: twolarger and with horns, the other a smaller beast with less of the raggedfur and only the beginning button of a protuberance on the nose; it wasprobably a calf.

  One of those mental alerts from the coyotes broke his absorption.Nalik'ideyu was not interested in the odd appearance of the grazingcreatures; she was intent upon their usefulness in another way--as afull and satisfying meal--and she was again impatient with him for hisdull response.

  His examination took a more practical turn. An antelope's defense wasspeed, though it could be tricked into hunting range through itsinordinate curiosity. The slender legs of these beasts suggested a likedegree of speed, and Travis had no weapons at all.

  Those nose horns had an ugly look; this thing might be a fighter ratherthan a runner. But the suggestion which had flashed from coyote to himhad taken root. Travis was hungry, he was a hunter, and here was meat onthe hoof, queer as it looked.

  Again he received a message. Naginlta was on the opposite side of theclearing. If the creatures depended on speed, then Travis believed theycould probably outrun not only him but the coyotes as well--which leftcunning and some sort of plan.

  Travis glanced at the cover where he knew Nalik'ideyu crouched and fromwhich had come that flash of agreement. He shivered. These were truly noanimals, but _ga-n_, _ga-n_ of power! And as _ga-n_ he must treat them,accede to their will. Spurred by that, the Apache gave only flicks ofattention to the browsers while at the same time he studied the part ofthe landscape uncovered by mist.

  Without weapons or speed, they must conceive a trap. Again Travis sensedthat agreement which was _ga-n_ magic, and with it the strong impressionurging him to the right. He was making progress with skill he did noteven recognize and which he had never been conscious of learning.

  The bushes and small, droop-limbed trees, their branches not clothedwith leaves from proper twigs but with a reddish bristly growthprotruding directly from their surface
s, made a partial wall for thepocket-sized meadow. That screen reached a rocky cleft where the mistcurled in a long tongue through a wall twice Travis' height. If thebrowsers could be maneuvered into taking the path through that cleft....

  Travis searched about him, and his hands closed upon the oldest weaponof his species, a stone pulled from an earth pocket and balanced neatlyin the palm of his hand. It was a long chance but his best one.

  The Apache took the first step on a new and fearsome road. These _ga-n_had put their thoughts--or their desires--into his mind. Could he socontact them in return?

  With the stone clenched in his fist, his shoulders back against the wallnot too far from the cleft opening, Travis strove to think out, clearlyand simply, this poor plan of his. He did not know that he was reactingthe way scientists deep space away had hoped he might. Nor did Travisguess that at this point he had already traveled far beyond theexpectations of the men who had bred and trained the two mutant coyotes.He only believed that this might be the one way he could obey the wishesof the two spirits he thought far more powerful than any man. So hepictured in his mind the cleft, the running creatures, and the part the_ga-n_ could play if they so willed.

  Assent--in its way as loud and clear as if shouted. The man fingered thestone, weighed it. There would probably be just one moment when he coulduse it to effect, and he must be ready.

  From this point he could no longer see the small meadow where thegrazers were. But Travis knew, as well as if he watched the scene, thatthe coyotes were creeping in, belly flat to earth, adding a felinestealth and patience to their own cunning.

  There! Travis' head jerked, the alert had come, the drive was beginning.He tensed, gripping his stone.

  A yapping bark was answered by a sound he could not describe, a noisewhich was neither cough nor grunt but a combination of both. Again ayap-yap....

  A toad-head burst through the screen of brush, the double horn on itsnose festooned with a length of grass torn up by the roots. Wideeyes--milky and seeming to be without pupils--fastened on Travis, but hecould not be sure the thing saw him, for it kept on, picking up speedas it approached the cleft. Behind it ran the calf, and that gutturalcry was bubbling from its broad flat lips.

  The long neck of the adult writhed, the frog-head swung closer to theground so that the twin points of the horn were at a slant--aimed now atTravis. He had been right in his guess at their deadliness, but he hadonly a fleeting chance to recognize that fact as the thing bore down,its whole attitude expressing the firm intention of goring him.

  He hurled his stone and then flung his body to one side, stumbling androlling into the brush where he fought madly to regain his feet,expecting at any moment to feel trampling hoofs and thrusting horns.There was a crash to his right, and the bushes and grass were wildlyshaken.

  On his hands and knees the Apache retreated, his head turned to watchbehind him. He saw the flirt of a triangular flap-tail in the mouth ofthe cleft. The calf had escaped. And now the threshing in the bushesstilled.

  Was the thing stalking him? He got to his feet, for the first timehearing clearly the continued yapping, as if a battle was in progress.Then the second of the adult beasts came into view, backing and turning,trying to keep lowered head with menacing double horn always pointed tothe coyotes dancing a teasing, worrying circle about it.

  One of the coyotes flung up its head, looked upslope, and barked. Then,as one, both rushed the fighting beast, but for the first time from thesame side, leaving it a clear path to retreat. It made a rush beforewhich they fled easily, and then it whirled with a speed and grace,which did not fit its ungainly, ill-proportioned body, and jumpedtoward the cleft, the coyotes making no effort to hinder its escape.

  Travis came out of cover, approaching the brush which had concealed thecrash of the other animal. The actions of the coyotes had convinced himthat there was no danger now; they would never have allowed the escapeof their prey had the first beast not been in difficulties.

  His shot with the stone, the Apache decided as he stood moments latersurveying the twitching crumpled body, must have hit the thing in thehead, stunning it. Then the momentum of its charge had carried it fullforce against the rock to kill it. Blind luck--or the power of the_ga-n_? He pulled back as the coyotes came padding up shoulder toshoulder to inspect the kill. It was truly more theirs than his.

  Their prey yielded not only food but a weapon for Travis. Instead of thebelt knife he had remembered having, he was now equipped with two. Thedouble horn had been easy to free from the shattered skull, and somecareful work with stones had broken off one prong at just the angle hewanted. So now he had a short and a longer tool, defense. At least theywere better than the stone with which he had entered the hunt.

  Nalik'ideyu pushed past him to lap daintily at the water. Then she satup on her haunches, watching Travis as he smoothed the horn with astone.

  "A knife," he said to her, "this will be a knife. And--" he glanced up,measuring the value of the wood represented by trees and bushes--"then abow. With a bow we shall hunt better."

  The coyote yawned, her yellow eyes half closed, her whole pose one ofsatisfaction and contentment.

  "A knife," Travis repeated, "and a bow." He needed weapons; he had tohave them!

  Why? His hand stopped scraping. Why? The toad-faced double horn had beenquick to attack, but Travis could have avoided it, and it had not huntedhim first. Why was he ridden by this fear that he must not be unarmed?

  He dipped his hand into the pool of the spring and lifted the water tocool his sweating face. The coyote moved, turned around in the grass,crushing down the growth into a nest in which she curled up, head onpaws. But Travis sat back on his heels, his now idle hands hanging downbetween his knees, and forced himself to the task of sorting out jumbledmemories.

  This landscape was wrong--totally unlike what it should be--but it wasreal. He had helped kill this alien creature. He had eaten its meat,raw. Its horn lay within touch now. All that was real and unchangeable.Which meant that the rest of it, that other desert world in which he hadwandered with his kind, ridden horses, raided invading men of anotherrace, that was not real--or else far, far removed from where he now sat.

  Yet there had been no dividing line between those two worlds. One momenthe had been in the desert place, returning from a successful forayagainst the Mexicans. Mexicans! Travis caught at that identification,tried to use it as a thread to draw closer to the beginning of hismystery.

  Mexicans.... And he was an Apache, one of the Eagle people, one who rodewith Cochise. No!

  Sweat again beaded his face where the water had cooled it. He was not ofthat past. He was Travis Fox, of the very late twentieth century, not anomad of the middle nineteenth! He was of Team A of the project!

  The Arizona desert and then this! From one to the other in an instant.He looked about him in rising fear. Wait! He had been in the dark whenhe got out of the desert, lying in a box. Getting out, he had crawleddown a passage to reach moonlight, strange moonlight.

  A box in which he had lain, a passage with smooth metallic walls, and analien world at the end of it.

  The coyote's ears twitched, her head came up, she was staring at theman's drawn face, at his eyes with their core of fear. She whined.

  Travis caught up the two pieces of horn, thrust them into his sash belt,and got to his feet. Nalik'ideyu sat up, her head cocked a little to oneside. As the man turned to seek his own back trail she padded along inhis wake and whined for Naginlta. But Travis was more intent now on whathe must prove to himself than he was on the actions of the two animals.

  It was a wandering trail, and now he did not question his skill in beingable to follow it so unerringly. The sun was hot. Winged things buzzedfrom the bushes, small scuttling things fled from him through the tallgrass. Once Naginlta growled a warning which led them all to a detour,and Travis might not have picked up the proper trace again had not thecoyote scout led him to it.

  "Who are you?" he asked once, and then guessed it would ha
ve better beensaid, "What are you?" These were not animals, or rather they were morethan the animals he had always known. And one part of him, the partwhich remembered the desert rancherias where Cochise had ruled, saidthey were spirits. Yet that other part of him.... Travis shook hishead, accepting them now for what they were--welcome company in an alienplace.

  The day wore on close to sunset, and still Travis followed thatwandering trail. The need which drove him kept him going through therough country of hills and ravines. Now the mist lifted above toweringwalls of mountains very near him, yet not the mountains of his memory.These were dull brown, with a forbidding look, like sun-dried skullsbaring teeth in warning against all comers.

  With great difficulty, Travis topped a rise. Ahead against the skylinestood both coyotes. And, as the man joined them, first one and then theother flung back its head and sounded the sobbing, shattering cry whichhad been a part of that other life.

  The Apache looked down. His puzzle was answered in part. The wreckagecrumpled on the mountain side was identifiable--a spaceship! Cold feargripped him and his own head went back; from between his tight lips camea cry as desolate and despairing as the one the animals had voiced.