THE CRUCIBLE OF TIME BY JOHN BRUNNER

He occupied himself not only with supervising the restoration of Neesos’s fortunes, but with retaining and exercising Flapper, whom he took to sea almost daily with the fleet on its fishing-trips. Once they had grown resigned to the failure of their intended fraud, the seafolk proved to be friendly enough, and of course they had far more in common with couriers than they were usually prepared to admit. In the end even Veetalya recovered from the shame she felt at having let Tenthag escape, and their relations became very friendly. Loric, too, turned out to be likable, and interested not only in life-study but star-study also. Together they pondered the possible meaning of that star which almost nightly shone yellower, brighter, hotter. Through a good telescope it could be seen to be surrounded by a sort of aura, like drifting smoke.

“That’s some of the cold matter massing to block our way to the future,” Tenthag explained soberly. “But before we get that far, more of it will doubtless turn into stars, more will be drawn into our own sun, more will tumble out of space and crash into the oceans, raising huge waves, or smash down on land and burn forests to ash … Oh, Loric, we are caught in a trap worse than a gigant’s claw! On the one side, the risk that there won’t be enough of the folk for us to save ourselves; on the other, that there may be far too many!”

“Don’t you think we’ll make it?” Veetalya asked timidly.

Tenthag shrugged with his entire mantle. “When I see what we can do when we combine our efforts, as here on Neesos, I feel very optimistic. But when I remember how nearly my own people went insane, and how you tried to take advantage … Who can say?”

Turning the telescope curiously in all directions, for it was superior to any he had used before, Loric suddenly stiffened.

“Another fleet!” he whispered. “Look! See the glimmer on the water?”

“Where…? Oh, yes! Give me the telescope … But those aren’t junqs or briqs! They’re porps—you can tell by the way they move! And none but couriers use porps, and that must be half the complement the Guild can boast! Quick, to the beach, and signal!”

As he incontinently led the way, hoping no loose rock would betray his steps in the dark, he wondered silently what disaster had brought this about.

Within a very short time, as all the folk of the island gathered on the beach, he learned the terrible truth. First to land was Dippid himself, followed by Nemora, and then another score of his friends and colleagues. When they had got over their astonishment at finding Tenthag alive and well, they told their story.

“We thought you must be dead,” Dippid rasped. “Many of the couriers have been attacked for not possessing the secret of fertility, by people convinced they did but were holding out for the highest price. It’s a rumor started by the Major South Fleet. Iyosc was right; they did raid Ognorit and now they’re trading what they’re pleased to call ‘the right to bud’ … against everything they can lay their claws on, especially seed and food-plants!”

Tenthag exchanged glances with his companions, who by now included Fifthorch. He said slowly, “What’s the situation like at Bowock? Have you been driven away?”

“Yes,” was Nemora’s simple answer, and she turned aside in grief. Dippid amplified.

“Iyosc was right about that, too. She’uns in bud and their companions, deprived of all their food-stocks by the greed of the People of the Sea, naturally started heading for the cities, not just Bowock, but any place where it looked as though there were still plenty of victuals. Bowock has been the chief magnet, obviously, because of that rumor that we were withholding the secret. And I regret to admit…”

He hesitated. Recovering, Nemora said curtly, “Some of the Jingfired betrayed their trust. Either they got hold of Gveest’s technique, or they were able to work it out from what was already known. Anyhow, they applied it to themselves. It was impossible to keep that secret. As soon as the news got out … Well, you can imagine its effect. We clung on as long as we could, but when we learned that couriers were being hunted down and killed we decided to flee. I remembered coming to Neesos, all those years ago, and as near as we could calculate we believed it must still be well beyond the sweep of the Major Fleet. Besides, the closer we got, the more we heard rumors that the people of lonely islands like this one were abandoning their homes and making for mainland cities, where the bud-right might be theirs all the sooner.”

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