The Island Stallion Races Page 6

  Steve felt a heavy blackness come swiftly to his mind, claiming it for its very own. He fought it as he had never fought anything before. There was no pain but he writhed in agony and his arms flayed the air, fighting nothing. He opened his mouth to yell, but no sound emerged.

  “You’re thinking, Steve.” Jay’s patient words came to Steve from somewhere deep within the recesses of his brain. “You’re thinking of all you know as normal. Don’t let it come to that, Steve. Shut it out of your mind, and just listen to me.

  “You want to go on with this experiment. I know you do, for I can feel it so strongly. Don’t let what you’ve been told through the years stand in your way. Push it out, Steve … push … push … don’t let it take over. I realize it’s strong for it’s all you’ve ever known. Don’t let it come between us, please don’t.”

  Steve fought all the harder, seeking to drive the blackness away. An overwhelming desire to see Blue Valley and the horses again had risen within him. He felt it surge stronger and stronger as he fought against the dark void that Jay would have him enter. Yet there were long moments when he was confused by his fighting, for he was willing to go with Jay.

  The blackness lightened a little, and he didn’t know if he was glad or sorry. Where was Flame? He had to see his horse! He struggled more furiously, forcing the dark void further back with all the will he possessed.

  Jay’s voice came again, disappointed now. “I guess I was wrong, Steve. Some other generation, perhaps, but not yours. What your mind has absorbed as normal is much too strong for me, even though you did want to cooperate.”

  When Steve emerged from the darkness, his first responsive reflex was to shout. His voice, throttled for so long, split his clenched lips and shattered the quiet of the valley. When it had died, the sound of Flame’s swift hoofbeats could be heard. But from closer still came Flick’s angry voice.

  “I knew you were up to something, Jay, the moment I found you gone.” Flick stood beside Jay, his eyes as angry as his voice. “You can’t do this to Steve,” he went on. “Mark my words, your conduct this morning will be reported to Julian!”

  “You and Julian,” Jay replied quietly, “… always worrying about nothing.”

  A MATTER OF CONVENIENCE

  6

  As the sound of rhythmical pounding grew louder Steve turned away from the men and saw Flame coming down the valley, his ears back, his nostrils spread wide in fury. For a second Steve thought how easy it would be to say nothing, just to stand still and allow Flame to destroy Jay and Flick and the nightmare they had brought to Blue Valley. But was that what he wanted, now that he knew who they were?

  He looked at them again, and from somewhere deep within him came a sudden cry of warning. “Run!”

  They turned toward him, startled by the urgency in his voice. But Jay continued sitting on the grass, making no attempt to get to his feet. It was Flick who turned around and, seeing the oncoming stallion, shouted and ran.

  Jay looked back, then scrambled to his knees and with the speed of a sprinter followed Flick. Both had reached the rocky trail before Flame swept past Steve.

  The stallion came to a halt at the wall, his eyes large and red. He screamed at the men above him. He rose high on his hind legs and pawed the air in his fury and frustration. When he came down he bolted along the wall, sending large clods of earth flying behind him. Then he turned and came back, running like a caged animal, his anger never abating.

  Steve made no attempt to quiet Flame. Instead, he kept looking at Jay and Flick, who were seated on the trail, breathing heavily and scared. They were safe because Flame would never attempt the steep climb, regardless of his fury. They could have been two normal people who had run from an enraged animal. But they weren’t. They were men from another world. Steve waited and watched them, thinking of all he had been told and what Jay had attempted to do to him.

  “Would you like to fly, Steve? It’s the easiest thing and the most fun of all.… Forget everything you’ve ever known in this world you call Earth.”

  For long minutes Steve’s gaze was fixed on the two frightened figures huddled together on the trail above Flame. Seeing them so afraid helped him more than anything else. For if he accepted their fear as the kind of fear that was normal in his own world, mustn’t he try to think of what he had been told by Jay as normal in their world? His head throbbed. Would there come a time when even the people of Earth would be able to …

  “I guess I was wrong, Steve. Some other generation, perhaps, but not yours.”

  He had his answer.

  Flame came to Steve, and his wide nostrils began to close as the anger ebbed from his giant body. He had understood Steve’s shout and the danger that had threatened him but not the reason for it. Now he heard the boy’s voice, soft and caressing. He listened, his ears no longer flat against his head but pricked and alert to every sound. He felt the comforting touches on his neck, and the fingers that ran from his mane to his forelock. He lowered his head still more, and stood quietly, very docile and content. He knew everything was all right now. Not that he understood the words, but the rhythm of the sounds and the soft touches comforted him. Finally he was told that he could go to his band, if he liked. He stayed a moment more and then left, moving up the valley at a slow gallop.

  Steve went to the trail. Jay and Flick got to their feet when he neared them, their eyes as sheepish and embarrassed as those of two children who had run away, leaving another behind to fight in their defense.

  Flick was the first to pull himself together. He turned angrily upon Jay. “You see! You see what you did! We might have been killed!” he accused the other.

  Jay shrugged his narrow shoulders in an attempt to appear casual. “Flame took me by surprise or we wouldn’t have needed to run. After all, I’ve had some experience with horses.”

  “I don’t mean only that,” Flick raged. “You were told to leave Steve alone, and if you think for a moment that I’m going to forget this …”

  “Now, Flick, now,” Jay said calmly. But suddenly he turned to Steve as though he were remembering his experiment for the first time. “Ah, Steve …” He paused and began again. “You’re not angry with me, are you? After all, you really wanted to try it.”

  Steve looked at this little man in the blue suit who now was perched above him, having passed Flick in his frantic climb to get away from Flame. He stared into eyes that in spite of all their wonder and knowledge were as troubled as a small boy’s, asking forgiveness. Steve shook his head.

  Jay smiled and turned to Flick once more. “There, Flick,” he said. “Steve’s not angry at all!” He paused and then added bitterly, “I don’t see why you’re getting so upset.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m reporting this to Julian,” Flick answered. “You were told to leave Steve alone, and you disregarded your instructions.”

  “What about Mao?” Jay asked. The tone was soft, but the expression in the eyes was hard, stony. “Weren’t you told to confine our trip to the seas alone?”

  Flick blurted out something that Steve couldn’t hear, but he saw the back of the cropped gray head turn uneasily.

  “You wouldn’t, Jay. You couldn’t,” Flick said, loud enough for Steve to hear him. “After all, that was a side excursion in the interest of the arts.”

  Jay smiled. “You’re so sensitive to the beauties of art and nature, Flick,” he said. And then Jay no longer smiled. “But so indifferent to the practical matter of getting along with people!” He glanced sidewise at Steve and added, “My chat with Steve here was on that order … creating a mutual understanding of each other and our different ways of doing things.”

  Steve turned away from Jay to watch Flame and the band. But after a few seconds he felt compelled to turn back to Jay and Flick and listen to every word they had to say.

  “After all,” Flick was saying, “the Mao incident was such a little thing, Jay. Really nothing at all.”

  “My chat with Steve was just as little,” Jay returned
quietly.

  They kept standing there, looking at each other. Finally Flick repeated, “You wouldn’t tell Julian, Jay. You couldn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t, couldn’t either,” Jay said. “If you’ll forget about this morning and give me a little more cooperation than you have in the past, I’ll forget Mao.” He grinned broadly at Steve, disclosing his small, white teeth. “Let’s continue this discussion over some tea,” he suggested. “It’s just what we all need to soothe us down.”

  Steve followed them to the ledge. He put the water on to boil, and then got the tea. “This is Pitch’s tea,” he told himself, his fingers tightening about the can. “It’s imported and costly. He’s going to be sore when he finds so much of it gone.” And then he laughed at the absurdity of his thoughts, considering what he was going through.

  Flick said crossly, “Well, Jay, I suppose it is too late to do anything about you and Steve now. I’ll simply have to assume full responsibility for your actions, as I’ve done before.”

  Jay chuckled. “That’s the ticket, Flick. Handle me yourself without any help from Julian. You’re perfectly capable of doing the job, and there’s no sense getting Julian mixed up in it.”

  Flick said nothing.

  The water boiled and Steve made the tea extra strong, the way Jay liked it. Flick came up and stood beside him, holding out his cup.

  “Since Jay told you as much as he did it’s only right that you know more about us,” Flick said. “The little information he’s given you can be a very dangerous thing.”

  Steve was not aware if Flick’s words were being spoken aloud or not. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that he heard everything in the softest, most rhythmic cadence and that he understood it completely.

  He poured the tea into cups. “Would you like a biscuit?” He laughed inwardly. Did he imagine for a minute that this was a party, that friends had come to tea? He passed the biscuits around and thought of the one Jay had not finished the night before.

  “Oh, but I did,” Jay said, smiling. “But I’ll have another if you can spare it, Steve. Thank you very much.”

  Steve stared at Jay a long time, thinking, The blue bird had dived quickly, snapping up the biscuit with one hard thrust of his bill, and then had flown away.

  Flick ran his fingertips through his stiff brush of hair, and then said, “I believe the best way for us to explain what we are, Steve, is to say that we’re simply tourists.” He turned to Jay. “Don’t you think so?”

  “You’re the scholar,” Jay answered. “Explain it your way, now that you’ve consented to take Steve into our confidence.”

  The coolness of the morning swept in a sudden wind across the ledge. Steve rubbed his bare arms to warm them, but felt no chill, no shivering.… That would come later, after his two visitors had gone.

  Flick said, “Well, we’ll just call ourselves tourists, then. We travel a great deal, Steve, truly great distances as you know them.”

  “You mean as he doesn’t know them,” Jay interrupted, laughing.

  The sound of Jay’s laughter startled Steve, for now he knew why it had sounded so familiar to him all along. It was like the raucous call of the blue bird. He turned to Flick and asked, “Where are you from?”

  “Our world is called Alula,” Flick answered. “It’s not too unlike your Earth.”

  “As far as the geological features go,” Jay interrupted again.

  “Of course,” Flick said sharply, “that’s all I meant.”

  Jay smiled. “And it’s cooler. That’s why we prefer a day like this.”

  Steve rubbed his chilled bare arms again but said nothing. He thought of the cold rain the first night Jay and Flick had arrived and wondered whether they had preferred that too.

  “But we don’t have your sunsets,” Flick said. “Never have I seen a more glorious one than on the night of our arrival! Why, the sky had more color than the seas of Mao. Didn’t you think so, Jay?”

  “Let’s not talk about Mao,” Jay answered sullenly. “When I think of what that trip has kept me from seeing here, I could just …” He stopped, and a band of red appeared in his eyes. “Why did you tell me there was so little change on Earth, when you knew of my interest in horses? Why, Flick?” Jay had risen from his chair and was standing over Flick.

  “But I didn’t know of any great change,” Flick insisted nervously.

  Jay waved a long, bony finger in Flick’s face. “Do you mean to tell me that during your last trip here you never noticed jockeys crouched forward in their saddles, their knees pulled up?”

  “Of course not,” Flick said defiantly. “You know I never go to the races.”

  “But you heard of this new racing seat, didn’t you?” Jay insisted. “After all, you’re supposed to be the scholar, the well-informed person who knows what’s going on, even in the most remote of planets!”

  Flick looked at Steve helplessly, and then threw up his hands. “One can’t possibly remember everything, Jay! Perhaps I did hear of this new riding style, now that you’ve mentioned it. But I didn’t think it was important. There are so many other things that …”

  “Not important!” Jay shouted, and then he put his head in his hands, rocking it. After a moment he turned abruptly, went back to his chair and sat down. “To think,” he said softly, “that they had to assign an old man like you as my companion on this trip … one who no longer can appreciate the drama of a horse race, and in addition cannot retain a single important fact!”

  Flick rose from his chair, the red band in his eyes also. He spluttered, finding it difficult to speak as he turned and looked at Steve.

  This man old? Steve studied Flick’s soft, lineless face and the hair that just now seemed to be more red than gray. “He’s not old at all,” Steve thought.

  Suddenly the little man beamed and the angry red left his eyes. “Oh, I’m old, all right,” he said appreciatively. “Still, it’s nice to be told I’m not.” Glancing over his shoulder, he added fiercely, “And you’re just as old, Jay. Don’t forget that.”

  “Not in heart,” the other answered.

  Flick ignored Jay. “What’s bothering him,” he explained to Steve, “is that two of us always have to stay with the ship while the others go off touring. It worked out that our turn for ship duty came here on Earth.”

  “We could have traded with Julian and Victor,” Jay said. “Julian wanted to visit Mao again, but you insisted upon our going instead.”

  “Julian might have traded, but not Victor,” Flick said thoughtfully. “Victor really wanted to visit Earth. He’d never been here, remember.”

  “I wish Victor and I had been assigned together,” Jay said wistfully.

  “It wouldn’t have worked,” Flick answered. “Everybody knew that.” He turned back to Steve. “You see, we use the ‘buddy system,’ as you do in your Boy and Girl Scout organizations. And it’s for the same purpose … to keep track of each other, and to … ah, avoid trouble. One is supposed to have a restraining influence over the other. That’s why Jay was assigned to me.”

  Jay snickered. “It was the other way around,” he said.

  “Look at it any way you like,” Flick said, shrugging his shoulders. “But now we must get back to the ship.”

  “Why must we go?” Jay asked furiously. “You know the others won’t be back for …” He glanced at Steve, “… a week, I guess it is in your time.”

  “We’re not certain of that,” Flick said quietly in the face of Jay’s angry outburst. “Some of them might just change their minds and return sooner. Anyway, it’s our job to be on the ship and keep everything in order. You’re well aware that we mustn’t shirk our duties.”

  “We can clean everything up just before they get back. No sense working now when we can enjoy ourselves. After all, it’s very unusual to have someone like Steve around.”

  “Very,” Flick admitted in the same soft, patient tone. “But they expect no less of us than we did of Julian and Victor while we were visiting Mao,
even though …” He paused, his small eyes traveling over Steve, “… we are more fortunate.”

  “Nonsense,” Jay muttered. “They’d be glad we had a chance to enjoy ourselves while still keeping an eye on the ship.”

  “Maybe so, but we still have our moral obligations.”

  “You didn’t think of moral obligations when we were on Mao,” Jay grumbled.

  The red streak reappeared in Flick’s eyes. “You promised not to mention that again,” he said fiercely.

  “I only promised not to report you to Julian, providing you’d give me a little more cooperation than you have in the past,” Jay reminded him.

  “Well, haven’t I?” Flick demanded, his short hair bristling. “Doesn’t Steve know more about us than anyone else has ever known?”

  “You realize as well as I do that we don’t have to worry about Steve,” Jay returned quietly.

  “Well, didn’t I promise not to report your … your experiment?”

  “Sure. Sure you did.” Jay began moving down the trail. “All right, we’ll go … but really you’re not very adventurous, Flick.”

  Steve followed them down the trail. He knew they wouldn’t allow him to witness their departure. He didn’t understand how he knew, but it was there, somewhere in his brain.

  When they had reached the valley floor Steve continued walking with them. He told himself that he was going to see Flame. But he knew that was not his only reason for staying close to Jay and Flick. He did not want them to go. There was still too much he wanted to learn.

  They walked very quietly with their heads down. Perhaps, Steve decided, they were bothered by his presence. Perhaps they wanted him to leave now. But he would have known, wouldn’t he? And nothing had as yet told him to go.

  Jay suddenly broke the silence. “There’s something else, Flick,” he blurted. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be allowed to watch just one race while I’m here. After all it would only be a matter of a few minutes to get to …” He stopped and turned to Steve. “Where’d you say that race was going to be?”