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They decided .to move the vessel down the valley in case another quake should open other fissures and spill out more of the poisonous liquid. Several sleep-times later, they resumed their journey. By then
Deyv's leg had almost knit and his shoulder had almost healed. Everybody was happy, or as happy as their natures and the situation permitted. It would have been a terrible loss if Phemropit could no longer have given them its protection. They felt fairly secure with it; it could scare or drive off almost any enemy or predator. Riding on it enabled them to get a rest when they were tired of walking. Though it went more slowly than their normal gait, it compensated for this by traveling during sleep-time. All it had to do was to follow the highway while they snored in the vessel on its back.
Deyv and Vana were well aware that this good life would cease sometime. They would have to go on by themselves, burdened by the baby. The prospect was appalling. But they were determined to get back to their homeland.
Thrush, the child, was healthy. He was, however, somewhat strange-looking at first to his parents.
Neither had ever seen such a hybrid before. He had his mother's kinky hair, but it was black instead of yellow. His eyes, once they'd lost their natal blue, were neither Deyv's brown nor Vana's green but hazel: brown with specks of green. His skin was lighter than his father's but darker than his mother's.
Sloosh commented that Thrush was probably a beautiful baby, from a human viewpoint. He wouldn't know. This led him into a short discourse on the races of Homo sapiens. According to him, humanity in its early days had been divided into a number of races, though it wasn't always easy to distinguish one from the other. Then mankind became homogeneous, so interbred that it formed one race. In time, because of changing conditions, new races were created, few of which duplicated previous ones. Then there was one race again. Then, a differentiation into three or four. Then, homogeneity again. And so on.
"This child should grow up to be big, healthy, vigorous, and perhaps intelligent, by human standards. It is time that entirely new genes were brought into your tribes. Even with the custom of occasionally taking new spouses from other tribes, the intermarriage is still confined to a small number."
Deyv and Vana were warmed by his predictions. But, as usual, he had to spoil his compliments.
"However, it is doubtful that the child will survive the journey, since his parents probably won't either.
Once you set out without us ..."
They arrived at last at the point where they must turn to the right if they were to go to the source of the flying figures. They didn't leave the highway for rough country, though. Not yet, anyway. There was a junction with a road ru
Here not only was there no road, there was no vegetation. Not a single plant grew on the bare rocks, from which the soil had been washed off long ago.
"Another wasteland," Sloosh said. "And not even with the redeeming beauty of The Shemibob's land.
Still, it does have a certain majesty. A grim forbidding one, though."
Deyv wondered aloud what had killed the trees and the bushes.
"This is what we Archkerri call The Dead Place," Sloosh said. "We know nothing of it because there is no vegetation to report on it."
The Shemibob said that she was equally ignorant. "Knowing and not knowing are light and its shadow, two states entirely different yet as closely related as brother and sister. If you conquer one, you automatically conquer the other. Let's set out for the conquest."
She might also have said that conquering either abstraction always involved overcoming the physical. In this situation, it was the mountains. As they'd done before the breaching of The Jeweled Wasteland, they had to store up enough food to last them. At least, they hoped it would be enough. Thirst would be no problem, since it rained heavily here. But water would be. The flash floods that raced down the ravines and the valleys and the passes would be more deadly than those in The House of Countless Chambers.
And, as far as they knew, the land had no oases.
The Dark Beast had passed over five times before they had what they considered enough provisions. The baby grew larger. In the meantime, the parents had come no closer to deciding whose tribe they would live with. It wasn't a matter that soured their every moment, but it did darken slightly every thought when they were together.
Just before they left camp, the Yawti proposed that Feersh be left behind.
"She's no good to us. She's only a burden, a mouth that eats our food and gives us nothing in return. If we don't take her, we'll have just that much more food. Now, I'm not inhumane. We could put her out of her misery so she won't starve to death or be eaten up by some beast."
The witch opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it. Her dignified expression said that she would let the others defend her—if they so wished.
"Let the lesser beings speak first," The Shemibob said.
Since Sloosh didn't consider himself to be in that class, he kept silent. Deyv and Vana looked at each other. Though they exchanged no words, they were thinking the same thoughts. Were they as much on trial as the witch? Would their decision make them higher in the estimation of The Shemibob? Or lower?
Or were they perhaps being too sensitive?
Whatever the truth about them, the Yawtl was also on trial. He didn't know that, not being capable of perceiving such subtleties. As cu
Vana said, "The witch has been very useful even if she is blind. For instance, though she isn't capable of hunting, she has been preparing the food we've brought her. She can cook, and she smokes the meat and fish. And she has offered to take care of the baby so that I can hunt and rest. This she has done, though she wasn't used to doing such things when she was the mistress and had many slaves to do her bidding."
"Nor has she whined and complained even though her lot has been worse than any of ours," Deyv said.
"Whereas Hoozisst, though he is strong and capable and has his sight, is always complaining about this and that."
The Yawtl, snarling, said, "I won't forget this!"
"It's nice that you have a good memory," The Shemibob said. "And it's too bad that you are so vindictive. You knew, as did Deyv and Vana, how useful she's been despite her handicap. And you must also have realized—or did you?—that she has a strong and adaptable character. Here she is, a once allpowerful lord of her immediate environment. One who didn't even have to walk through her tharakorm if she didn't want to but could be carried by her slaves. Yet, since her life has changed, being reduced to a level lower than that of her slaves, she has done her best to cope with the changes. From what I've seen of humans, many in her situation would have succumbed, simply died or become parasites. She hasn't done either. She's done her best to survive, to be useful, and her best is quite adequate."
"So what?" Hoozisst said. "She may be admirable, as far as character goes, though I won't admit that.
But it's what she can do for us that counts. I say she's a hindrance, a nuisance, a heavy liability."
Deyv said, "If you were severely wounded and couldn't be of any use for a long time and, in fact, it cost us time and labor, even danger, keeping you alive, would you wish us to abandon you or kill you?"
"But you'd know that once I got well I would be a great asset," the Yawtl said.
Sloosh must have thought that the lesser beings had spoken enough. He said, "You hate Feersh because she once controlled you and you dared not rebel against her. She also robbed you of your soul egg, which you now have, and she tried to kill you. But if you'd been in her place, you would have done the same. So why, in this respect, are you any different?