Someone pushed past Horsip, and from his long brown robes, Horsip recognized a Centran monk.
The monk, tall and severe, loomed over Moffis, who gave a guilty start.
The monk looked at the outstretched reporter, then smiled benignly upon Moffis. “Son, do not let me disturb your righteous work.”
He turned to Horsip. “I see you are both new here, my sons. If you will get your baggage together, perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Horsip, who could use any assistance anyone could offer, nodded agreement. He and Moffis got their bags.
The monk looked grimly at the reporter, then glanced at the pickpocket and thieves.
“So, this is the latest benefit you have derived from the search after money without work? Put your ingenuity to use finding a way you can help someone, then sell your service to him. . . . And, why not pray a little now and then? What hurt can it do?”
The pickpocket and thieves looked embarrassed and muttered incoherently.
The monk nodded to Horsip and Moffis.
“This way, my sons. As you see, I have no truck with these new inventions, but use sensible transportation which should suffice for any man.”
* * *
Horsip, carrying his bag under one arm, waited till the traffic let up, then followed across the street, with Moffis right behind him. On the far side waited a four-wheeled coach drawn by a creature whose long powerful body appeared built to deliver dazzling bursts of speed. Its large paws were armed with sharp, partially retracted claws, and, as it cleaned its short black fur, its blood-red tongue licked out past teeth like daggers.
The monk opened the door on the left side of the coach.
“After you, my sons.”
Horsip uneasily climbed in, but Moffis paused. “Your . . . ah . . . loadbeast, Reverend Father—what breed is that?”
The monk beamed. “That, my son, is a man-eating gnath. Gnaths, you know, are said to be killers by nature. Their reflexes are so fast it is impossible to follow their motions. Their teeth are very strong, of a hardness which rivals diamond. The jaws have compound leverage, with an action similar to a ratchet, and can bring terrible pressure to bear on the prey. Few zoos can hold the gnath. It has been known to chew steel bars into bits to exercise its jaws. See the size of its head? It is highly intelligent, but much of that head is skull, of unusual thickness, armored with the substance that makes its teeth so tough. A single gnath has been known to slaughter almost a whole company of soldiers before one managed to hit the heart with a lucky shot. The ribs of the animal are flat, they overlap, and, like the rest of its bone, they are exceptionally hard and tough, so that the bullet must penetrate the abdomen at just the right angle to reach the heart. Since the gnath moves so fast, it is, of course, difficult to make this shot while being attacked by the beast.”
Moffis uneasily put his hand to his holster, then let go with a dazed look.
The monk, beaming benignly, said, “I have raised this gnath from a cub, feeding it vegetables and milk, and radiating thoughts of universal love and brotherhood in its presence. By kind treatment, its manners have been transformed.” He lowered his voice. “Get in, brother, or the bystanders over there—what are left of them—may think you do not trust the Great One to protect you.”
The monk followed Moffis in, shut the door, and swung around a kind of semicircular latch that snicked into its rests like a bolt.
He seated himself, and took the reins, which went out two vertical slits under the thick front window. He gave the reins a light shake.
The gnath leaned forward.
The carriage jerked into motion.
The gnath lazily stretched out his legs. The carriage rolled briskly behind.
After traveling some time in silence, the monk said, “There are now those on this planet who would not hesitate to take advantage of the Brotherhood. . . . Look there!”
Up ahead, the huge factory was coming into view. An elaborate ground-car, with a silver bird on the front end, was starting out onto the road.
The monk slapped the reins.
The gnath leaned into the harness. The carriage picked up speed.
Up ahead, the ground-car came to an abrupt stop, backed, turned, and headed for the factory, a cloud of dust stretching behind it.
The gnath sniffed and growled as he passed through the dust cloud from the car.
The monk slowed, to turn off onto a narrower road.
“That ground-car back there,” he said, “belongs to the manager of the factory. Some weeks ago he tried to force me off the road.” The monk gave a spare smile. “He was not yet acquainted with the nature of the gnath.”
Horsip thought this over in silence. Such conduct, toward the Holy Brotherhood, was almost inconceivable.
“Is it only the factory manager who is responsible or—”
“It is anyone who submits to the teachings of the Earthmen.”
“Perhaps there is some misunderst—”
“Bah! We understand each other well enough. Either the Earthmen’s system or ours must break, and they well know it. Yet, bad as the Earthmen are, they are as nothing compared to our own people, once converted to their ways. That gossip-mongering ‘reporter’ is an example of it. We had an Earth reporter here not long ago, teaching how it was done. The fellow was unbearable. But not as unbearable as our own men when they do the same thing. The Earthmen have some restraint.”
“Yet they break down our ways?”
“Their theories twist facts, present the doer of evil as a harmless fellow, and the honest man who does his duty as some kind of fiend. They make the average person uncertain where to turn. He is hag-ridden by all their conflicting subtleties and false guides. I tell you, these Earthmen—”
Moffis gripped Horsip by the arm.
“Look—behind us.”
Horsip turned. Coming along the road behind, an armored ground-car trailed a cloud of dust, and gained steadily on them. Behind it, at an angle, as if to block the other side of the road, came a second armored ground-car.
Horsip looked around. The road was narrow, bordered on both sides by rows of trees.
The armored cars closed the distance fast.
From the nearest of the cars came the flat commanding blast of a horn.
Moffis drew his gun.
The monk smiled. “No, my son, trust that those who do evil will be punished.”
There was a slight bump, and the carriage tilted. Through the carriage’s rear windows, only the flat gray tops of the armored cars could now be seen.
The ground-cars dropped back again, then surged forward.
The monk, watching, gripped the brake lever, drew it back with a loud ratcheting click, and shoved it over and back. He jerked a knotted cord on the dashboard, and gave a penetrating whistle.
With a loud scream from the wheels, the carriage slowed. The gnath bounded free of the traces. There was a thud-click, as padded meal shutters dropped over the windows.
The horn blast grew suddenly loud. There was a slam, a crash, and the carriage tipped heavily.
The world seemed to turn over as the carriage careened to a stop. There was the sound of smashing glass, screams and curses, and then a bloodthirsty roar that startled Horsip out of unconsciousness. The carriage was bobbing slightly, the inside dark. Horsip unlatched a shutter and looked out.
Jammed between two trees was one of the armored ground-cars. The other was on its back, wheels up, The gnath, one end of a metal plate in his mouth, rivets sticking out like torn threads, muscles standing out on his big forelimbs, slowly straightened up to a loud ik-ik-ik noise and the scream of straining metal.
There was a loud snap, and the gnath tossed the massive plate into the air. Gears and shafts flew in all directions. Then the gnath worried the engine out of the wreckage, peeled back the firewall, crouched, lashed his long tail, and insinuated his head into the ground-car’s passenger compartment. There was the banging of a pistol, then screams.
Horsip tried to get up, saw the whole world turn end-for-end, and everything went black.
* * *
Somewhere there was a murmur of voices, the slam of a door. Horsip opened his eyes, to find himself looking up at the lower limbs of a big tree. Propping himself on one elbow, he could see a shambles of metal plates, gears, axles, a shaft with steering wheel on one end, wiring harness with the generator still attached, fan belts, coolant hoses, bandoliers of ammunition, strewn over the road, hanging from the lower branches of trees, or scattered in the grass. The largest piece he could see was a length of I-beam two feet long, with the sun glinting on a freshly sheared end.