More Than Fire

During one dream, he saw the faces of his parents. They were smiling at him and looked much younger than when they had died. Then they receded and were lost in mists. But his feeling about them was happy. He awoke for a while after that. There had been a time when he wondered if they were his biological mother and father. It had been hinted by some Thoan that he was adopted; his true parents were Thoan, possibly Red Orc himself. He had seriously considered questing for the truth when he had time for it. Now he did not care. The biological parent was not necessarily the real parent. Loving and caring made the real father and mother. The poor but decent couple who had raised him from a baby on an Indiana farm were the ones he had known and loved. Thus, they were the only parents about whom he cared. Forget the quest.

Dawn, a less bright light than yesterday's, sprang into being. No false dawn here for Dingsteth. An hour later, it appeared between the tree and the stone and walked into the circle. It was careful not to come close enough to be reached through the bars.

Without the preliminary of a greeting, it spoke. "I heard your talk about escape plans. I have run the possibilities of your succeeding in that through the world. It gives you more than a 99.999999999-percent chance of never doing that. It is trying now to locate what it is that you could do so that the chance will be one hundred percent."

"It has to have complete data from you to calculate that," Kumas said. "You ca

"Make it easier for us!" Wemathol howled. "Blab everything, you anus's anus, king of the cretins!"

Kumas, looking chagrined, lay down on his blanket pile. He refused to say a word after that.

"Nevertheless, I am attempting to consider all factors," Dingsteth said. "Unfortunately, my creator did not install a creator's imagination in me."

"We'll be glad to help you find what you're looking for!" Wemathol yelled.

Dingsteth turned toward Wemathol. "You would? That is most kind of you."

It had to wait until the laughter of the caged men had ceased before it could make itself heard. Even Khruuz vented his short barking laugh.

"That's some kind of human joke, I suppose. I don't understand such. An hour from now, you will hear a signal. You, Kickaha, will immediately stand in that circle on the floor of your cage. You will be gated to an exercise-and-shower area. After you have returned to the cage, the signal will again sound. You, Wemathol, will go then."

It named off each man in turn, made sure that they understood the arrangement, and returned to the gate by the tree. After it had disappeared, Ashatelon said, "It's taking good care of us, though I can't say much for the food. I wonder why it cares at all about our condition?"

"Its seeming concern for us is built in," Red Orc said. "It's part of its command complex. But Zazel put that in for his own good reasons. We may regret that Dingsteth did not kill us at once."

"We shouldn't give a damn about Zazel's reasons just now," Kickaha said. "Let's take advantage of them as soon as possible."

Easier said than done, as the old Terrestrial saying went. By the time that Kickaha had been transported to the exercise area, he had not heard or said anything that might help them. He found himself in a space cut into the stone. It had no exit or entrance-except for the gate that had brought him there-and was ventilated from narrow slits along the walls. Its ceiling was fifty feet high, it was fifty feet wide, and it was a half-mile long. At either end was an unwalled shower, a fountain, a commode, and a heatdryer.

He warmed up before ru

On the third morning of this routine, Kickaha asked Dingsteth what it pla

"You will stay caged until you kill yourself or die through accident, though I do not see how accidents can occur."

It was some time before the hurricane of protests trailed away. There was a silence for several minutes. Then Wemathol said, "We'll be here forever."

Dingsteth said, "Forever is only a concept. There is no such thing. However, if you had stated that you would be here for a very long time, you would be correct."

"We'll go crazy!" Kumas screamed.

"That is possible. It won't make any difference about your longevity." Kickaha spoke calmly, though he did not feel like doing so. "Why are you doing this?"

"Zazel's commands are to be obeyed. I myself do not know why he left such orders. I surmise, however, that at the time he gave them to me, he did not foresee that he would one day kill himself. He is dead; his commands are not."

Kumas fainted. Wemathol hurled at Dingsteth every item in his large treasury of insults and obscenities. When he had run through them, he started over. Ashatelon bit on his arms until blood came. The other three said nothing, but Red Orc stared through the bars for a long time. Khruuz wept, a strange sight for the humans, since his insectile face looked as if it hid no more than an insect's emotions. Kickaha leaped up and hung from the bars and grimaced and hooted as if he were an ape. He had to express himself in some way. Just at the moment, he felt as if he had shot backward along the path of evolution. Apes did not think of the future. He would be an ape and not think about it.

He would later realize how twisted his logic was. Just then, it seemed to be quite reasonable. It was only human to go ape.

18

HE HAD COMPLETELY RECOVERED BY THE NEXT MORNING. Now, looking back at yesterday, he thought that being an ape had been fun. All he had lacked to be a true anthropoid was a fur coat and fleas.

Nevertheless, that brief fall from evolution's ladder was a warning. For too many years, he had been under extreme stress and in near-fatal situations. The breaks between them had been too short. It was true that he seemed almost always to be in top physical and mental condition, ready to take on the universe itself, no holds barred, anything goes. But deep within him, the multitudinous perils, one after the other, had demanded high payment. The latest and worst of the shocks. Anana's permanent memory loss and then an inescapable sentence to life imprisonment, had been the one-two punch knocking him out of the ring.

"Only for a little while," he muttered. "Once I get in shape again, get a long rest, I'll be ready to fight anything, anybody."

Some of his cage-mates were still suffering. When Kumas was addressed by the others, he only grunted. All day long, he stood, his face pressed against the bars, his hands gripping them. He ate very little. Ashatelon cursed and raved and paced back and forth. Wemathol muttered to himself. Only Khruuz and Red Orc seemed to be undisturbed. Like him, their minds were centered on escaping.

Fat chance! He had tried again and again to summon up from his reservoir of ingenuity a possible means to break out. Every idea was whisked off by the hurricane of reality. This prison, compared to Alcatraz, was off the starting blocks and over the finish line before Alcatraz could take a step.

Thirty days passed. Every afternoon, Dingsteth visited them. It spoke for a few minutes to each prisoner except Kumas. He turned his back to it and refused to say a word.

Red Orc tried to talk it into releasing him. Dingsteth always rejected him. "Zazel's orders are clear. If he is not here to tell me otherwise, I am to hold any prisoners until he returns."