Andre Norton - Starborn

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Star Born By Andre Norton
1
SHOOTING STAR
THE TRAVELERS had sighted the cove from the sea-a narrow bite into the land, the first break in
the cliff wall which protected the interior of this continent from the pounding of the ocean. And,
although it was still but midafternoon, Dalgard pointed the outrigger into the promised shelter,
the dip of his steering paddle swinging in harmony with that wielded by Sssuri in the bow of their
narrow, wave-riding craft.
The two voyagers were neither of the same race nor of the same species, yet they worked
together without words, as if they had established some bond which gave them a rapport
transcending the need for speech.
Dalgard Nordis was a son of the Colony; his kind had not originated on this planet. He was
not as tall nor as heavily built as those Terran outlaw ancestors who had fled political enemies
across the Galaxy to establish a foothold on Astra, and there were other subtle differences
between his generation and the parent stock.
,. Thin and wiry, his skin was brown from the gentle toasting of the summer sun, making the
fairness of his closely cropped hair even more noticeable. At his side was his long bow, carefully
wrapped in water-resistant flying-dragon skin, and from the belt which supported his short
breeches of tanned duo corn hide swung a two-foot blade-half wood-knife, half sword. To the eyes
of his Terran forefathers he would have presented a barbaric picture. In his own mind he was amply
clad and armed for the man-journey which was both his duty and his heritage to make before he took
his place as a full adult in the Council of Free Men.
In contrast to Dalgard's smooth skin, Sssuri was covered with a fluffy pelt of rainbow-
tipped gray fur. In place of the human's steel blade, he wore one of bone, barbed and ugly, as
menacing as the spear now resting in the bottom of the outrigger. And his round eyes watched the
sea with the familiarity of one whose natural home was beneath those same waters.
The mouth of the cove was narrow, but after they negotiated it they found themselves in a
pocket of bay, sheltered and calm, into which trickled a lazy stream The gray-blue of the seashore
sand was only a fringe beyond which was turf and green stuff. Sssuri's nostril flaps expanded as
he tested the warm breeze, and Dalgard was busy cataloguing scents as they dragged their craft
ashore They could not have found a more perfect place for a camp site.
Once the canoe was safely beached, Sssun picked up his spear and, without a word or
backward glance, waded out into the sea, disappearing into the depths, while his companion set
about his share of camp tasks. It was still early in the summer-too early to expect to find ripe
fruit But Dalgard rummaged in his voyager's bag and brought out a half-dozen crystal beads. He
laid these out on a flat-topped stone by the stream, seating himself cross-legged beside it.
To the onlooker it would appear that the traveler was meditating. A wide-winged living
splotch of color fanned by overhead; there was a distant yap of sound. Dalgard neither looked nor
listened. But perhaps a minute later what he awaited arrived. A hopper, its red-brown fur sleek
and gleaming in the sun, its eternal curiosity drawing it, peered cautiously from the bushes.
Dalgard made mind touch. The hoppers did not really think-at least not on the levels where
communication was possible for the colonists-but sensations of friendship and good will could be
broadcast, primitive ideas exchanged.
The small animal, its humanlike front paw-hands dangling over its creamy vest, came out
fully into the open, black eyes flicking from the motionless Dalgard to the bright beads on
the rock. But when one of those paws shot out to snatch the treasure, the traveler's hand was
already cupped protectingly over the hoard. Dalgard formed a mental picture and beamed it at the
twenty-inch creature before him. The hopper's ears twitched nervously, its blunt nose wrinkled,
and then it bounded back into the brush, a weaving line of moving grass marking its retreat.
Dalgard withdrew his hand from the beads. Through the years the Astran colonists had come
to recognize the virtues of patience. Perhaps the mutation had begun before they left their native
world. Or perhaps the change in temperament and nature had occurred in the minds and bodies of
that determined handful of refugees as they rested in the frozen cold sleep while their ship bore
them through the wide, uncharted reaches of deep space for centuries of Terran time. How long that
sleep had lasted the survivors had never known. But those who had awakened on Astra were
different.
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And their sons and daughters, and the sons and daughters of two more generations were
warmed by a new sun, nourished by food grown in alien soil, taught the mind contact by the
amphibian mermen with whom the space voyagers had made an early friendship-each succeeding child
more atuned to the new home, less tied to the far-off world he had never seen or would see. The
colonists were not of the same breed as their fathers, their grandfathers, or great-grandfathers.
So, with other gifts, they had also a vast, time-consuming patience, which could be a weapon or a
tool, as they pleased not forgetting the instantaneous call to action which was their older
heritage.
The hopper returned. On the rock beside the shining things it coveted, it dropped dried
and shriveled fruit. Dalgard's fingers separated two of the gleaming marbles, rolled them toward
the animal, who scooped them up with a chirp of delight. But it did not leave. Instead it peered
intently at the rest of the beads. Hoppers had their own form of intelligence," though it might
not compare with that of humans. And this
one was enterprising. In the end it delivered three more loads of fruit from its burrow and took
away all the beads, both parties well pleased with their bargains.
Sssuri splashed out of the sea with as little ado as he had entered. On the end of his
spear twisted a fish. His fur, slicked flat to his strongly muscled body, began to dry in the air
and fluff out while the sun awoke prismatic lights on the scales which covered his hands and feet.
He dispatched the fish and cleaned it neatly, tossing the offal back into the water, where some
shadowy things arose to tear at the unusual bounty.
"This is not hunting ground." His message formed in Dalgard's mind: "That finned one had
no fear of me."
"We were right then in heading north; this is new land." Dalgard got to his feet.
On either side, the cliffs, with their alternate bands of red, blue, yellow, and white
strata, walled in this pocket. They would make far better time keeping to the sea lanes, where it
was not necessary to climb. And it was Dalgard's cherished plan to add more than just an inch or
two to the explorers' map in the Council Hall.
Each of the colony males was expected to make his man journey of discovery sometime
between his eighteenth and twentieth year. He went alone or, if he formed an attachment with one
of the mermen near his own age, accompanied only by his knife brother. And from knowledge so
gained the still-small group of exiles added to and expanded their information about their new
home.
Caution was drilled into them. For they were not the first masters of Astra, nor were they
the masters now. There were the ruins left by Those Others, the race who had populated this planet
until their own wars had completed their downfall. And the mermen, with their traditions of
slavery and dark beginnings in the experimental pens of the older race, continued to insist that
across the sea-on the unknown western continent-Those Others still held onto the remnants of a
degenerate civilization. Thus the explorers from Homeport , went out by ones and twos and used the
fauna of the land as
a means of gathering information.
Hoppers could remember yesterday only dimly, and instinct took care of tomorrow. But what
happened today sped from hopper to hopper and could warn by mind touch both merman and human. If
one of the dread snake-devils of the interior was on the hunting trail, the hoppers sped the
warning. Their vast curiosity brought them to the fringe of any disturbance, and they passed the
reason for it along. Dalgard knew there were a thousand eyes at his service whenever he wanted
them. There was little chance of being taken by surprise, no matter how dangerous this journey
north might be.
"The city-" He formed the words in his mind even as he spoke them aloud. "How far are we
now from it?"
The merman hunched his slim shoulders in the shrug of his race. "'Three days' travel,
maybe five. And it"-though his furred face displayed no readable emotion, the sensation of
distaste was plain-"was one of the accursed ones. To such we have not returned since the days of
falling fire-"
Dalgard was well acquainted with the ruins which lay not many miles from Homeport. And he
knew that that sprawling, devastated metropolis was not taboo to the mermen. But this other
mysterious settlement he had recently heard of was still shunned by the sea people. Only Sssuri
and a; few others of youthful years would consider a journey to explore the long-forbidden section
their traditions labeled as dangerous land.
The belief that he was about to venture into questionable territory had made Dalgard
evasive when he reported his plans to the Elders three days earlier. But since such trips: were,
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by tradition, always thrusts into the unknown, they had: not questioned him too much. All in all,
Dalgard thought, watching Sssuri flake the firm pink flesh from the fish, he. might deem himself
lucky and this quest ordained. He went
off to hack out armloads of grass and fashion the sleep mats for the sun-warmed ground.
They had eaten and were lounging in content on the soft sand just beyond the curl of the
waves when Sssuri lifted his head from his folded arms as if he listened. Like all those of his
species, his vestigial ears were hidden deep in his fur and no longer served any real purpose; the
mind touch served him in their stead. Dalgard caught his thought, though what had aroused his
companion was too rare a thread to trouble his less acute senses.
"Runners in the dark-"
Dalgard frowned. "It is still sun time. What disturbs them?"
To the eye Sssuri was still listening to that which his friend could not hear.
"They come from afar. They are on the move to find new hunting grounds."
Dalgard sat up. To each and every scout from Homeport
e unusual was a warning, a signal to alert mind and body.
e runners in the night-that furred monkey race of hunters who bed the moonless dark of
Astra when most of the higher fauna were asleep-were very distantly related to Sssuri's species,
though the gap between them was that between highly civilized man and the jungle ape. The runners
were harmless and shy, but they were noted also for clinging stubbornly to one particular district
generation after generation. To find such a clan on the move into new territory was to be fronted
with a puzzle it might be well to investigate.
"A snake-devil-" he suggested tentatively, forming a mind picture of the vicious reptilian
danger which the colonists tried to kill on sight whenever and wherever encountered. His hand went
to the knife at his belt. One met with weapons only that hissing hatred motivated by a brainless
ferocity which did not know fear.
But Sssuri did not accept that explanation. He was sitting
up facing inland where the thread of valley met the cliff wall. And seeing his absorption, Dalgard
asked no distracting questions.
"No, no snake-devil-" after long moments came the answer. He got to his feet, shuffling
through the sand in the.', curious little half dance which betrayed his agitation more' strongly
than his thoughts had done.
"The hoppers have no news," Dalgard said.
Sssuri gestured impatiently with one out flung hand. "Do'. the hoppers wander far from
their own nest mounds? Some-: where there-" he pointed to the left and north "there is trouble,
bad trouble. Tonight we shall speak with the runners. and discover what it may be."
Dalgard glanced about the camp with regret. But he made no protest as he reached for his
bow and stripped off its protective casing. With the quiver of heavy-duty arrows slung across his
shoulder he was ready to go, following Sssuri in-,'
land. The easy valley path ended less than a quarter of a mile:,
from the sea, and they were fronted by a wall of rock with", a,
no other option than to climb. But the weltering sun made
plain every possible hand and foot hold on its surface.
When they stood at last on the heights and looked ahead, it was across a broken stretch of
bare rock with the green` of vegetation beckoning from at least a mile beyond. Sssuri, hesitated
for only a moment or two, his round, almost. featureless head turning slowly, until he fixed on a
north-. easterly course-striking out unerringly as if he could al-. ready sight the goal. Dalgard
fell in behind, looking over. the country with a wary eye. This was just the type of land to
harbor flying dragons. And while those pests were small, their lightning-swift attack from above
made them foes not, to be disregarded. But all the flying things he saw were two.. moth birds of
delicate hues engaging far over the sun-baked rock in one of their graceful winged dances.
They crossed the heights and came to the inland slope, a
drop toward the central interior plains of the continent. As they plowed through the high grasses
Dalgard knew they were under observation. Hoppers watched them. And once through a break in a line
of trees he saw a small herd of duocorns race into the shelter of a wood. The presence of those
two-horned creatures, so like the pictures he had seen of Terran horses, was insurance that the
snake-devils did not hunt in this district, for the swift-footed duocorns were never found within
a day's journey of their archenemies.
Late afternoon faded into the long summer twilight and still Sssuri kept on. As yet they
had come across no traces of Those Others. Here were none of the domed farm buildings, the
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monorail tracks, the other relics one could find about Homeport. This wide-open land could have
been always a wilderness, left to the animals of Astra for their own. Dalgard speculated upon
that, his busy imagination supplying various reasons for such tract. Then the voiceless
communication of his companion provided an explanation.
"This was barrier land."
"What?"
Sssuri turned his head. His round eyes which blinked so seldom stared into Dalgard's as if
by the intensity of that gaze he could drive home deeper his point.
"What lies to the north was protected in the days before the falling fire. Even Those"-the
distorted mermen symbol for Those Others was sharpened by the very hatred of all Sssuri's kind,
which had not paled during the generations since their escape from slavery to Astra's one-time
masters" could not venture into some of their own private places without special leave. It is
perhaps true that the city we are seeking is one of those restricted ones and that this wilderness
is a boundary for it."
Dalgard's pace slowed. To venture .into a section of land which had been used as a barrier
to protect some secret of Those Others was a highly risky affair. The first expedition sent out
from Homeport after the landing of the Terran refu-
gee ship had been shot down by robot-controlled guns still set against some long-dead invader.
Would this territory be so guarded? If so they had better go carefully now-
Sssuri suddenly struck off at an angle, heading not northeast now, but directly north. The
brush lands along the foot of the cliffs gave way to open fields, bare except for the grass
rippled by the wind It was not the type of country to attract the night runners, and Dalgard
wondered a little. They should discover water, preferably a shallow stream, if they wanted to find
what the monkey creatures liked best.
Within a quarter-hour he knew that Sssuri was not going wrong. Cradled in a sudden dip in
the land was the stream Dalgard had been looking for. A hopper lifted a dripping muzzle from the
shore ripples and stared at them. Dalgard contacted the animal. It was .its usual curious self,
nothing had alarmed or excited its interest. And he did not try to establish more than a casual
contact as they made their way down the bank to the edge of the stream, Sssuri splashing in ankle-
deep for the sheer pleasure of feeling liquid curl about his feet and legs once more.
Water dwellers fled from their passing and insects buzzed and hovered. Otherwise they
moved through a deserted world. The stream bed widened and small islands of gravel, swept together
in untidy piles by the spring floods, arose dry topped, some already showing the green of
venturesome plants.
"Here-" Sssuri stopped, thrusting the butt of his spear into the shore of one such islet.
He dropped cross-legged on his choice, there to remain patiently until those he sought would come
with the dark. Dalgard withdrew a little way downstream and took up a similar post. The runners
were shy, not easy to approach. And they would come more readily if Sssuri were alone.
Here the murmur of the stream was loud, rising above the rustle of the wind-driven grass.
And the night was coming fast as the sun, hidden by the cliff wall, sank into the sea.
Dalgard, knowing that his night sight was far inferior to that of the native Astran fauna,
resignedly settled himself for an all-night stay, not without a second regretful memory of the
snug camp by the shore.
Twilight and then night. How long before the runners would make their appearance? He could
pick up the sparks of thought which marked the coming and going of hoppers, most hurrying off to
their mud-plastered nests, and sometimes a flicker from the mind of some other night creature Once
he was sure he touched the avid, raging hunger which marked a flying dragon, though they were not
naturally hunters by darkness.
Dalgard made no move to contact Sssuri. The merman must be left undisturbed in his mental
quest for the runners.
The scout lay back on his miniature island and stared up into the sky, trying to sort out
all the myriad impressions of life about him. It was then that he saw .it. . . .
An arrow of fire streaking across the black bowl of Astra's night sky. A light so vivid,
so alien, that it brought him to his feet with a chill prickle of apprehension along his spine. In
all his years as a scout and woodsman, in all the stories of his fellows and his elders at
Homeport-he had never seen, never heard of the like of that!
And through his own wonder and alert alarm, he caught Sssuri's added puzzlement.
"Danger-" The merman's verdict fed his own unease.
Danger had crossed the night, from east to west. And to the west lay what they had always
feared. What was going to happen now?
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2
PLANETFALL
RAF Kurwi, flitter pilot and techneer, lay on the padded shock cushion of his assigned bunk and
stared with wide, disillusioned eyes at the stretch of stark, gray metal directly overhead. He
tried to close his ears to the mutter of meaningless words coming from across the narrow cabin.
Raf had. known from the moment his name had been drawn as crew member that the whole trip would be
a gamble, a wild gamble with the odds all against them. RS 10-those very' numbers on the nose of
the ship told part of the story. Ten' exploring fingers thrust in turn out into the blackness of
space. RS 3's fate was known-she had blossomed into a pinpoint of flame within the orbit of Mars.
And RS 7 had clearly gone out of control while instruments on Terra could. still pick up her
broadcasts. Of the rest-well, none had re- . turned.
But the ships were built, manned by lot from the trainees,! and sent out, one every five
years, with all that had been
learned from the previous job, each refinement the engineers.` could discover incorporated into
the latest to rise from the
launching cradle.
RS 10- Raf closed his eyes with weary distaste. After, months of being trapped inside her
ever-vibrating shell, he= felt that he knew each and every rivet, seam, and plate in her only too
well. And there was no reason yet to believe that the voyage would ever end. They would just go on
and; on through empty space until dead men manned a drifting hulk-
There-to picture that was a danger signal. Whenever his, thoughts reached that particular
point, Raf tried to think of:
something else, to break the chain of dismal foreboding. How? By joining in Wonstead's monologue
of complaint and regret? Raf had heard the same words over and over so often that they no longer
had any meaning-except as a series of sounds he might miss if the man who shared this pocket were
suddenly stricken dumb.
"Should never have put in for training-" Wonstead's whine went up the scale.
That was unoriginal enough. They had all had that idea the minute after the sorter had
plucked their names for crew inclusion. No matter what motive had led them', into the stiff course
of training-the fabulous pay, a real interest iri the project, the exploring fever-Raf did not
believe that there was a single man whose heart had not sunk when he had been selected for flight.
Even he, who had dreamed all his life of the stars and the wonders which might lie just beyond the
big jump, had been honestly sick on the day he had shouldered his bag aboard and had first taken
his place on this mat and waited, dry mouthed and shivering, for blast-off.
One lost all sense of time out here. They ate sparingly, slept when they could, tried to
while away the endless hours artificially divided into set periods. But still weeks might be
months, or months weeks. They could have been years in space-or only days. All they knew was the
unending monotony which dragged upon a man until he either lapsed into a dreamy rejection of his
surroundings, as had Hamp and Floy, or flew into murderous rages, such as kept Morris in solitary
confinement at present. And no foreseeable end to the flight-
Raf breathed shallowly. The air was stale, he could almost taste it. It was difficult now
to remember being in the open air under a sky, with fresh winds blowing about one. He tried to
picture on that dull strip of metal overhead a stretch of green grass, a tree, even the blue sky
and floating white clouds. But the patch remained stubbornly gray, the murmur
of Wonstead went on and on, a drone in his aching ears, the throb of the ship's life beat through
his own thin body.
What had it been like on those legendary early flights, _' when the secret of the
overdrive had not yet been discovered, . when any who dared the path between star and star had
surrendered to sleep, perhaps to wake again generations later, perhaps never to rouse again? He
had seen the few ' documents discovered four and five hundred years ago in the raided headquarters
of the scientific outlaws who had fled the regimented world government of Pax and dared space on
the single hope of surviving such a journey in cold sleep, the secret of which had been lost. At
least, Raf thought, they had escaped the actual discomfort of the voyage.
Had they found their new world or worlds? The end of their ventures had been debated
thousands of times since those documents had been made public, after the downfall,,'. of Pax and
the coming into power of the Federation of Free
Men.
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In fact it was the publication of the papers which had given the additional spur to the
building of the RS armada. What man had dared once he could dare anew. And the pursuit of
knowledge which had been so long forbidden under Pax was heady excitement for the world. Research
and discovery became feverish avenues of endeavor. Even the slim hope of a successful star voyage
and the return to Terra with such rich spoils of information was enough to harness three quarters
of the planet's energy for close to a hundred years.
And if the RS 10 was not successful, there would be 11, 12, more-flaming into the sky and
out into the void, unless some newer and more .intriguing experiment developed to center public
imagination in another direction.
Ref's eyes closed wearily. Soon the gong would sound and this period of rest would be
officially ended. But it was hardly worth rising. He was not in the least hungry for the
,a
concentrated food. He could repeat the information tapes they carried dull word for dull word.
"Nothing to see-nothing but these blasted walls!" Again Wonstead's voice arose in
querulous protest.
Yes, while in overdrive there was nothing to see. The ports of the ship would be sealed
until they were in normal space once more. That is, if .it worked and they were not caught up
forever within this -thick trap where there was no time, light, or distance.
The gong sounded, but Raf made no move to rise. He heard Wonstead move, saw from the
corner of his eye the other's bulk heave up obediently from the pad.
"Hey-mess gong!" He pointed out the obvious to Raf.
With a sigh the other levered himself up on his elbows. If he did not move, Wonstead was
capable of reporting him to the captain for strange behavior, and they were all too alert to a
divagation which might mean trouble. He had no desire to end in confinement with Morris.
"I'm coming," Raf said sullenly. But he remained sitting on the edge of the pad until
Wonstead left the cabin, and he followed as slowly as he could.
So he was not with the others when a new sound tore through the constant vibrating hum
which filled the narrow corridors of the ship. Raf stiffened, the icy touch of fear tensing his
muscles. Was that the red alarm of disaster?
His eyes went to the light at the end of the short passage. But no blink of warning red
shown there. Not danger-then what-?
It took him a full moment to realize what he had heard, not the signal of doom, but the
sound which was to herald the accomplishment of their mission-the sound which unconsciously they
had all given up any hope of ever hearing. They had made it!
The pilot leaned weakly against the wall, and his eyes smarted, his hands were trembling.
In that moment he knew
that he had never really, honestly, believed that they would succeed. But they had! RS 10 had
reached the stars!
"Strap down for turnout-strap down for turnout-1" The disembodied voice screaming through
the ship's speecher was that of Captain Hobart, but it was almost unrecognizable with emotion. Raf
turned and stumbled back to his cabin, staggered to throw himself once more on his pad as he
fumbled with the straps he must buckle over him.
He heard rather than saw Wonstead blunder in to follow his example, and for the first time
in months the other was dumb, not uttering a word as he stowed away for the breakthrough which
should take them back into normal space and the star worlds. Raf tore a nail on a fastening,
muttered.
"Condition red-condition red- Strap down for breakthrough-" Hobart chanted at them from
the walls. "One, two, three" -the count swung on numeral by numeral; then- "ten -Stand by-"
Raf had forgotten what breakthrough was like. He had gone through it the first time when
still under take-off sedation. But this was worse than he remembered, so much worse. He tried to
scream out his protest against the torture which twisted mind and body, but he could not utter
even a weak cry. This, this was unbearable-a man could go mad . or die-die-die . . .
He aroused with the flat sweetness of blood on his tongue, a splitting pain behind the
eyes he tried to focus on the too familiar scrap of wall. A voice boomed, receded, and boomed
again, filling the air and at last making sense, .in it a ring of wild triumph!
"Made it! This is it, men, we've made it; Sol-class sun three planets. We'll set an orbit
in-"
Raf licked his lips. It was still too much to swallow in one mental gulp. So, they had
made it-half of their venture was accomplished. They had broken out of their own solar' system,
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made the big jump, and before them lay the un-
known. Now it was within their reach.
"D'you hear that, kid?" demanded Wonstead, his voice no longer an accusing whine, more
steady than Raf ever remembered hearing it. "We got through! We'll hit dirt again] Dirt-" his
words trailed away as if he were sinking into some blissful daydream.
There was a different feeling to the ship herself. The steady drone which had ached in
their ears, their bones, as she bored her way through the alien hyperspace had changed to a purr
as if she, too, were rejoicing at the success of their desperate try. For the first time in weary
weeks Raf remembered his own duties duties which would begin when the RS 10 came in to a flame-
cushioned landing on a new world. He was to assemble and ready the small exploration flyer, to man
its controls and take it up and out. Frowning, he began to run over in his mind each step in the
preparations he must make as soon as they planeted.
Information came down from control, where now the ports were open on normal space and the
engines were under control of the spacer's pilot. Their goal was to be the third planet, one which
showed signs of atmosphere, of water and earth ready and waiting.
Those who were not on flight duty crowded into the tiny central cabin where they elbowed
each other before the viewer. The ball of alien earth grew from a pinpoint to the size of an
orange. They forgot time in the wonder which none had ever thought .in his heart he would see on
the screen. Raf knew that in control every second of this was being recorded as they began to
establish a braking orbit, which with luck would bring them down on the surface of the new world.
"Cities-those must be cities]" Those in the cabin studied the plate with awe as the
information filtered through the crew. Lablet, their xenobiologist, sat with his fingers rigid on
the lower bar of the visa plate, so intent that nothing could break his vigil, while the rest
speculated wildly. Had they really seen cities?
Raf went down the corridor to the door of the sealed compartment that held the machine and
the supplies for . which he was responsible. These last hours of waiting were worse with their
nagging suspense than all the time which j had gone before. If they could only set down]
He had, on training trips which now seemed very far in the past, trod the rust-red desert
country of Mars, waddled in a bulky protective suit across the peaked ranges of the dead Moon,
known something of the larger asteroids. But how would it feel to tread ground warmed by the rays
of an- ,~, other sun? Imagination with which his superiors did not credit him began to stir.
Traits inherited from a mixture of races were there to be summoned. Raf retreated once more into
his cabin and sat on his bunk pad, staring down at his 4 own capable mechanic's hands without
seeing them, picturing instead all the wonders which might lie just beyond the p next few hours'
imprisonment in this metallic shell he had grown to hate with a dull but abiding hatred.
Although he knew that Hobart must be fully as eager as any of them to land, it seemed to
Raf, and the other impatient .1 crew members, that they were very long in entering the atmosphere
of the chosen world. It was only when the order . came to strap down for deceleration that they
were in a measure satisfied. Pull of gravity, ship beaming in at an angle which swept it from
night to day to night again as it encircled that unknown globe. They could not watch their
objective any longer. The future depended entirely upon e the skill of the three men in control-
and last of all upon Hobart's judgment and skill.
The captain brought them down, riding the flaming counter-blasts from the ship's tail to
set her on her fins in an expert point landing, so that the RS 10 was a finger of light 'into the
sky, amid wisps of smoke from brush ignited by her landing.
There was another wait which seemed endless to the restless men within, a wait until the
air was analyzed, the
countryside surveyed. But when the go-ahead signal was given and the ramp swung out those first at
the hatch still hesitated for an instant or so, though the way before them was open.
Beyond the burnt ground about the ship was a rolling plain covered with tall grass which
rippled under the wind. And the freshness of that wind cleansed their lungs of the taint of the
ship.
Raf pulled off his helmet, held his head high in that breeze. It was like bathing in air,
washing away the smog of those long days of imprisonment. He ran down the ramp, past the little
group of those who had preceded him, and fell on his knees in the grass, catching at it with his
hands, a little overawed at the wonder of it all.
The wide sweep of sky above them was not entirely blue, he noted. There was the faintest
suggestion of green, and across it moved clouds of silver. But, save for the grass, they might be
in a dead and empty world. Where were the cities? Or had those been born of imagination?
After a while, when the wonder of this landing had somewhat worn away, Hobart summoned
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them back to the prosaic business of setting up base. And Raf went to work at his own task. The
sealed storeroom was opened, the supplies slung by crane down from the ship. The compact assembly,
streamlined for this purpose, was all ready for the morrow.
They spent the night within the ship, much against their will. After the taste of freedom
they had been given, the cramped interior weighed upon them, closing like a prison. Raf lay on his
pad unable to sleep. It seemed to him that he could hear, even through the heavy plates, the sigh
of that refreshing wind, the call of the open world lying ready for them. Step by step in his
mind, he went through the process for which he would be responsible the next day. The uncrating of
the small flyer, the assembling of frame and motor. And sometime in the midst of that survey he
did
fall asleep, so deeply that Wonstead had to shake him awake in the morning.
He bolted his food and was out at his job before it was far past dawn. But eager as he was
to get to work, he paused just to look at the earth scuffed up by his boots, to stare for a long
moment at a stalk of tough grass and remember with, a thrill which never lessened that this was
not native earth or grass, that he stood where none of his race, or even of his kind, had stood
before-on a new planet in a new solar system.
Raf's expert training and instruction paid off. By evening he had the flitter assembled
save for the motor which still reposed on the turning block. One party had gone questing out into
the grass and returned with the story of a stream hidden in a gash in the plain, and Wonstead
carried the limp body of a rabbit-sized furred creature he had knocked over at the waterside.
"Acted tame." Wonstead was proud of his kill. "Stupid thing just stood and watched me
while I let fly with a stone."
Raf picked up the little body. Its fur was red-brown, plush
thick, and very soft to the touch. The breast was creamy
white and the forepaws curiously short with an uncanny re
semblance to his own hands. Suddenly he wished that Won
stead had not killed it, though he supposed that Chou, their
biologist, would be grateful. grateful. But the animal looked particu
larly defenseless. It would have been better not to mark
their first day on this new world with a killing-even if it
were the knocking over of a stupid rabbit thing. The pilot
was glad when Chou bore it off and he no longer had to look
at it.
It was after the evening meal that Raf was called into consultation by the officers to
receive his orders. When he reported that the flitter, barring unexpected accidents, would be air-
borne by the following afternoon, he was shown an enlarged picture from the records made during
the descent of the RS 10.
There was a city, right enough-showing up well from the air. Hobart stabbed a finger down
into the heart of it.
"This lies south from here. We'll cruise in that direction."
Raf would have liked to ask some questions of his own. The city photographed was a sizable
one. Why then this deserted land here? Why hadn't the inhabitants been out to investigate the
puzzle of the space ship's landing? He said slowly, "I've mounted one gun, sir. Do you want the
other installed? It will mean that the flitter can only carry three instead of four-"
Hobart pulled his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. He glanced at his lieutenant
then to Lablet, sitting quietly to one side. It was the latter who spoke first.
"I'd say this shows definite traces of retrogression." He touched the photograph. "The
place may even be only a ruin."
"Very well. Leave off the other gun," Hobart ordered crisply. "And be ready to fly at dawn
day after tomorrow with full field kit. You're sure she'll have at least a thousand-mile cruising
radius?"
Raf suppressed a shrug. How could you tell what any machine would do under new conditions?
The flitter had been put through every possible test in his home world. Whether she would perform
as perfectly here was another matter.
"They thought she would, sir," he replied. "I'll take her up for a shakedown run tomorrow
after the motor is installed."
Captain Hobart dismissed him with a nod, and Raf was glad to clatter down ladders into the
cool of the evening once more. Flying high in a formation of two lanes were some distant birds, at
least he supposed they were birds. But he did not call attention to them. Instead he watched them
out of sight, lingering alone with no desire to join those crew members who had built a campfire a
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little distance from the ship. The flames were familiar and cheerful, a portion, somehow, of their
native world transported to the new.
Raf could hear the murmur of voices. But he turned and went to the flitter. Taking his
hand torch, he checked the work he had done during the day. Tomorrow-tomorrow he could take her up
into the blue-green sky, circle out over the sea of grass for a short testing flight. That much he
wanted to do.
But the thought of the cruise south, of venturing toward that sprawling splotch Hobart and
Lablet identified as a city was somehow distasteful, and he was reluctant to think about
it.'
3
SNAKE-DEVIL'S TRAIL
DALGARD drew the waterproof covering back over his bow, making a careful job of it, preparatory to
their pushing out to sea once more. But he was as intent upon what Sssuri had to tell as he was on
his occupation of the moment.
"But that is not even a hopper rumor," he was protesting, breaking into his companion's
flow of thought.
"No. But, remember, to the runners yesterday is very far away. One night is like another;
they do not reckon time as we do, nor lay up memories for future guidance. They left their native
hunting grounds and are drifting south. And only a very great peril would lead the runners into
such a break. It is against all their instincts!"
"So, long ago-which may be months, weeks, or just days there came death out of the sea,
and those who lived past its coming fled-".Dalgard repeated the scanty information Sssuri had won
for them the night before by patient hour-long coaxing. "What kind of death?"
Sssuri's, great eyes, somber and a little tired, met his. "To us there is only one kind of
death to be greatly feared."
"But there are the snake-devils-" protested the colony scout.
"To be hunted down by snake-devils is death, yes. But it is a quick death, a death which
can come to any living thing that is not swift or wary enough. For to the snakedevils all things
that live and move are merely meat to fill the aching pit in their swollen bellies. But there were
in the old days other deaths, far worse than what one meets under a snake-devil's claws and fangs.
And those are the deaths we fear." He was running the smooth haft of his spear back and forth
through his fingers as if testing the balance of the weapon because the time was not far away when
he must rely upon it.
"Those Others!" Dalgard shaped the words with his lips as well as in his mind.
"Just so." Sssuri did not nod, but his thought was in complete agreement.
"Yet they have not come before-not since the ship of my fathers landed here," Dalgard
protested, not against Sssuri's judgment but against the whole idea.
The merman got to his feet, sweeping his arm to indicate not only the cove where they now
sheltered but the continent behind it.
"Once they held all this. Then they warred and killed, until but a handful lay in cover to
lick their wounds and wait. It has been many threes of seasons since they left that cover. But now
they come again-to loot their place of secrets Perhaps in the time past they have forgotten much
so that now they must renew their knowledge."
Dalgard stowed the bow in the bottom of the outrigger. "I think we had better go and see,"
he commented, "so that we may report true tidings to our Elders-something more than rumors learned
from night runners."
"That is so."
They paddled out to sea and turned the prow of the light! craft north. The character of
the land did not change. Cliffs` still walled the coast, in some places rising sheer from the:
water, in others broken by a footing of coarse beach. Only, flying things were to be sighted over
their rocky crowns.
But by midday there was an abrupt alteration in the scene. A wide river cut through the
heights and gave birth to a' fan-shaped delta thickly covered with vegetation. Half hidden'. by
the riot of growing things was a building of the dome' shape Dalgard knew so well. Its windowless,
doorless surface reflected the sunlight with a glassy sheen, and to casu
inspection it was as untouched as it had been on the day its masters had either died within it or
left it for the last time, perhaps centuries before.
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"This is one way into the forbidden city," Sssuri announced. "Once they stationed guards
here."
Dalgard had been about to suggest a closer inspection of` the dome but that remark made
him hesitate. If it had been:. one of the fortifications rimming in a forbidden ground, there: was
more than an even chance that unwary invaders, even this long after, might stumble into some trap
still working, automatically.
"Do we go upriver?" He left it to Sssuri, who had the traditions of his people to guide
him, to make the decision. _
The merman looked at the dome; it was evident from his= attitude that he had no wish to
examine it more closely. ' "They had machines which fought for them, and sometimes. those machines
still fight. This river is the natural entrance for an enemy. Therefore it would have been well
defended."
Under the sun the green reach of the delta had a most: peaceful appearaffce. There was a
family of duck-dogs fishing from the beach, scooping their broad bills into the mud to locate
water worms. And moth birds danced in the air currents overhead. Yet Dalgard was ready to agree
with his' companion-beware the easy way. They dipped their paddles
deep and, cut across the river current toward the cliffs to the north.
Two days of steady coastwise traveling brought them to a great bay. And Dalgard gasped as
the full sight of the port confronting them burst into view.
Tiers of ledges had been cut and blasted in the native rock, extending from the sea back
into the land in a series of giant steps. Each of them was covered with buildings, and here the
ancient war had left its mark. The rock itself had been brought to a bubbling boil and sent in now-
frozen rivers down that stairway in a half-dozen places, overwhelming all structures in its path,
and leaving crystallized streams to reflect the sun blindingly.
"So this is your secret city!"
But Sssuri shook` his round head. "This is but the sea entrance to the country," he
corrected. "Here struck the day of fire,' and we ,need not fear the machines which doubtless lie
in wait elsewhere."
They beached the outrigger and hid it in the shell of one of the ruined buildings on the
lowest level. Dalgard sent out a questing thought, hoping to contact a hopper or even a duck-dog.
But seemingly the ruins were bare of animal life, as was true in most of the other towns and
cities he had explored in the past. The fauna of Astra was shy of any holding built by Those
Others no matter how long it may have been left to the wind, and cleansing rain.
With difficulty and detours to avoid the rivers of once molten rock, they made their way
slowly from ledge to ledge up that giant's staircase, not stopping to explore any of the buildings
as they passed. There was a taint of alien age about the city which repelled Dalgard, and he was
eager to get out of it into the clean countryside once more. Sssuri sped on silent feet, his
shoulders hunched, his distaste for the structures to be read in every line of his supple body.
When they reached the top, Dalgard turned to gaze down to the restless sea. What a
prospect! Perhaps Those Others
had built thus for reasons of defense, but surely they, too, ` must have paused now and then to be
proud of such a feat.
It was the most impressive site he had yet seen, and his re- , port of it would be a worthy
addition to the Homeport records.
A road ran straight from the top of the stair, stabbing inland without taking any notice
of the difficulties of the ` terrain, after the usual arrogant manner of the alien engineers. But
Sssuri did not follow it. Instead he struck off to the left, avoiding that easy path, choosing to
cross through tangles; which had once been gardens or through open fields.
They were well out of the sight of the city before they flushed their first hopper, a full-
grown adult with oddly pale= fur. Instead of displaying the usual fearless interest in
strangers, the animal took one swift look at them and fled; as if a snake-devil had snorted at its
thumping heels. And' Dalgard received a sharp impression of terror, as if the hop-' per saw in him
some frightening menace.
"What-?" Honestly astounded, he looked to Sssuri for enlightenment.
The hoppers could be pests. They stole any small bright; object which aroused their
interest. But they could also be= persuaded to trade, and they usually had no fear of either .
colonist or merman.
Sssuri's furred face might not convey much emotion, but by all the signs Dalgard could
read he knew that the merman was as startled as he by the strange behavior of the grass dweller.
"He is afraid of those who walk erect as we do," he made", answer.
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file:///F|/rah/Andre%20Norton/Norton,%20Andre%20-%20Star%20Born.txtStarBornByAndreNorton1SHOOTINGSTARTHETRAVELERShadsightedthecovefromthesea-anarrowbiteintotheland,thefirstbreakinthecliffwallwhichprotectedtheinteriorofthiscontinentfromthepoundingoftheocean.And,althoughitwasstillbutmidafternoon,Dal...

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