Time's Last Gift Part 10

'A lot can happen in 14,000 years,' he said.

Two more days pa.s.sed. Rachel fretted until she got on Drummond's nerves. He told her to quit worrying, or at least keep it to herself. And he added that he doubted that she would worry as much if he were gone that long. This led to another quarrel, which they tried, unsuccessfully, to keep from von Billmann, who guessed its origin correctly. He said nothing to either of them; he did not care to get involved, especially in an affair which he disapproved of. They were scientists and so should have left their less worthy emotions behind them in A.D. 2070. He could understand why Rachel had fallen for Gribardsun, since he did in fact, despite his earlier protestation to her, come as close to worshipping the man as he would allow himself to. But she should repress her feelings and not permit them to interfere with their work.

He did not tell them this, of course. But they knew him well; they could almost read his thoughts.

On the fifth day, John Gribardsun walked into camp. With him he brought two strangers.

At a distance, bis colleagues would have had trouble recognizing him if he had not still been clean-shaven.

His two companions were almost as tall as Gribardsun and fully as broad-shouldered. One had reddish hair and the other yellow-brown. Their eyes were blue. Their bones were large, and their supraorbital ridges were prominent. Though they were Caucasian, they had slight epicanthic folds, indicating, perhaps, some Mongolian genes.

Gribardsun strode into camp as if he owned it which, in a sense, he did. The strangers hung back until he turned and gestured for them to join him. They put their spears and atlatls and boomerangs on the ground and climbed up to the ledge. Their wooden-handled flint knives were still in their sheaths, however.

Gribardsun introduced them as Klhmnhach and Rhtinkhlhk. They smiled nervously and spoke in a strange whispering speech.

Von Billmann, hearing them, smiled so broadly that his face threatened to split. Gribardsun laughed and said, 'Their language is a linguist's delight, Robert. Very few vowels and most of the consonants are unvoiced. And nothing like anything ever recorded in Europe.'

The Bear People did not like the strangers at all. Thammash protested loudly while he made threatening gestures at the two. They moved closer together, but their faces remained expressionless and their fingers were widespread.

There was a brief interruption when Laminak, Dubhab's pre-teenaged daughter, ran to Gribardsun and threw her arms around his waist and hugged him while she wept. The Englishman patted her head and murmured something about being happy to see her again. Then he gently pushed her away, and her mother took her hand and led her away while she scolded her.

'You've made another conquest,' Rachel said. Her smile was hard.

Gribardsun did not reply. He addressed the entire tribe, telling them that he had made peace with the strangers, the Wotagrub, whose name for themselves was Krhshmhnhik. This meant The People. The tribesmen were unable to p.r.o.nounce the word anywhere near correctly, nor would they make much of an effort. For them, the Krhshmhnhik remained the Wotagrub.

Gribardsun did not say how he had talked the Wotagrub into making peace. Nor did he say anything about taking revenge for their having killed so many Wota'shaimg. From now on there would be peace. The Wotagrub would move even farther away. The borders of the two tribes would be such and such, and he defined them as exactly as he could, using landmarks both tribes knew well. If one tribesman ventured into the territory of the other tribe, he must refrain from hunting there.

The Wota'shaimg did not like anything he said. They wanted an eye for an eye. In fact, two eyes for an eye. And they could not understand why such a powerful magician and warrior as Gribardsun did not exact vengeance.

The Englishman explained that he could have wiped out the whole tribe easily. But he saw no reason to do so. That was that.

He later told his colleagues that it would have done no good to have gone into ethics or morality. The Wota'shaimg would not have understood his modern philosophy. The best thing to do was to issue an edict as if he were a G.o.d. They could understand that. If they did not understand rationality, they understood power. The great magician and wicked warrior - to them, wicked was a compliment - required such and such or would punish them. So they would do as he said, even if they did not like it.

Gribardsun ordered a feast, and the two strangers squatted with the elders of the tribe and the scientists and ate with them. After that, they relaxed. The Wota'shaimg were not likely to murder them if they ate with them. The sharing of food implied safety for those who shared. There was no spoken law to this effect. It was just understood.

The time travelers examined the boomerangs of the strangers. These were carved with flint and consisted of a heavy close-grained wood which they could not identify as yet. The wood did not grow in this area. Gribardsun said he could speak only a few words - word-sentences, rather - of the strangers. But through sign language he had learned that their origin was far to the south, and that they had brought these boomerangs from their native territory. That was probably either in southern Iberia or possibly North Africa. The two would be connected with a land bridge, of course, since the Mediterranean Sea was much smaller and lower now. The Wotagrub had once had many boomerangs, but they had been in this country so long that they had lost most of them. And there was no wood appropriate for making new ones.

'I believe that a trip southward, say about the time fall is due, would be consistent with our purpose,' Gribardsun said. He chewed on a piece of rare-cooked ibex steak for a moment and then said, 'We could travel swiftly to get away from the effects of winter here. Winter farther south won't be so severe that we can't travel. And I think we should take a look at the land bridge and at North Africa.'

'Isn't that rather dangerous, putting ourselves so far away from our vessel?' Drummond said. 'I admit the scientific desirability of studying the southern area. But we must weigh the possible results against the chances of killing ourselves off and so ruining the entire expedition. After all, the power spent on getting us here and back, the fact that this is absolutely the only chance we'll get for a personal look into the Magdalenian period - well, I don't think we should get too far away from our base of operations. Here we have the situation well in hand. But if we wander around, just four of us, we're subject to attack, to accident, to many things. We might be cut off. We might...'

'Anything that could happen south could happen here,' Gribardsun said. 'Let's think about it. We have a month before autumn comes. We'll consider the feasibility of austral explorations then.'

'Meanwhile,' von Billmann said, 'I'd like to record the language of the Wotagrub. Do you think it would be all right if I returned with these two?'

'Why not?' Gribardsun said. 'But I'd like you to collect some animal specimens, too, including entomological specimens, if you could. And get samples of the blood of the Wotagrub if you can. Don't push too hard at first about that, though.'

The German was delighted. He stood up and said, I'll get my tent and recorder and other equipment and leave as soon as possible.'

'Sometime tomorrow,' Gribardsun said, smiling. 'We have some things to thresh out, a policy to determine regarding the Wotagrub. It's necessary that everybody understand exactly where we stand. And that won't be easy, since we have to communicate with the Wotagrub through signs.'

It was late when the fires were allowed to dim and the time travelers, the elders, and the two strangers went to bed. But Gribardsun was satisfied that everybody understood, in general, what the relationship of the two tribes was to be.

The following afternoon, von Billmann, carrying a large pack on the duraluminum rack on his back, walked off with the two strangers. They also carried packs, the German's equipment and supplies. Von Billmann was exhilarated, and he joked with his two companions. They could not understand a word he said, of course, but they understood his joy, and they smiled back at him.

Rachel, watching him march off between them, said, 'Do you really think that it's wise to let him go off alone, John?'

He did not answer. He had a habit, annoying to her, of not answering questions if he thought they didn't deserve an answer.

Rachel bit her lip and looked at Drummond. He shrugged and moved away. He knew that she wanted him to give her moral support when she questioned Gribardsun about his past. But von Billmann had left them so suddenly that they felt weakened. It had been easy to talk about the questions they would ask Gribardsun when he returned. But now that he was here, he seemed formidable. He would doubtless resent their questions and refuse to answer them. And even if he did, then what? The fact was, they were all here together and they must all work together. In any case, Rachel did not credit a word of their absurd suspicions that Gribardsun had somehow got on the expedition through foul play.

Drummond had asked her how she knew. Did she really know the Englishman that well?

Rachel had admitted that she did not, certainly not in any sense that Drummond may have implied. But her feminine intuition, her perceptivity, irrational perhaps but nevertheless valid, told her that Gribardsun was not a felon or a maniac. She knew he was a decent human being, just as a moth knows that certain flying objects are not bats. But her antennae were invisible.

Drummond had laughed at that and asked her how in the world she had ever gotten her doctorate in zoology. Angrily, she had replied that perhaps he was right about her intuitions. They had told her that Drummond was a strong man, a good husband, and that he was in love with her. But she had been mistaken. So perhaps her intuitions about Gribardsun were also wrong.

Drummond had then become angry in turn, and they had quarreled again.

Four.

The summer pa.s.sed swiftly, the short autumn of the glacial age was upon them. Gribardsun had by then apparently given up the idea, at least temporarily, of traveling to the south. There was so much to be done in this little area that it would have seemed shirking their duties to travel elsewhere.

Gribardsun's study of the Wota'shaimg language had so far revealed a vocabulary of more 'words' than he would have expected. He was convinced that there were at least that many more. Although it was a poor language for communicating intellectual ideas, it was surprisingly versatile in words for emotions, sensations, and impressions. And, it had a highly technical language for those things most important to the Wota'shaimg: hunting, fishing, various types of animals and stones, shades of light, kinds of snow and ice.

Their numeral system went up to twenty, and past that they used the word for 'many.' But they could describe exactly each member of a group exceeding the number of twenty, some of them being able to list with all necessary distinguishing features each bison of a herd of forty.

They all had a phenomenal ability for reciting long tales and certain common magical formulae. Wazwim, the singer, could chant four thousand lines of a poem without prompting. He did this three times over a period of two months for Gribardsun, and his lines seldom varied. However, whenever he thought of an improvement, he would promptly make it then and there.

The chant was only roughly a poem. The feet were based on quant.i.ty, though far removed from the cla.s.sical Latin or Greek quant.i.ty. The line was roughly composed of a sort of trochaic hexameter. There was no rhyme but much alliteration. Nor could the poem be called an epic in the true sense of the word. It was a loose collection of narratives of heroes and totem animals and evil spirits intermixed with magical formulae and folk wisdom. The closest parallel to the 'epics' that modern man knew was the Finnish Kalevala. Everything had taken place long long ago, starting, in fact, before the creation of the universe and continuing up until a dozen generations ago, when the last of the heroes had died. Men today were only ordinary men, according to the song, weaklings and poor-spirited. They didn't make men like they did in the old days.

Gribardsun was surprised that such a small, technologically r.e.t.a.r.ded society could have produced such a relatively sophisticated poem; and with, for all its serviceable flexibility, a nonetheless essentially primitive vocabulary. Its existence in such a society went against all, that he knew and had been taught. He said as much.

'That's the frustrating thing about the limitations of time travel,' Drummond said. 'We can't go even farther back to check out the origin and the development of the so-called epic. Or of anything.'

Gribardsun nodded, but he did not seem too unhappy about it. It was obvious that he was, in fact, very happy. He went out hunting with the others, or sometimes alone, and he always came back with meat. He seldom used his modern weapons but confined himself to using the tribal ones. He broke his own rule only when a big animal charged and made it necessary to use a rifle. Or when he went bird hunting. There were enormous flocks of ducks and geese settled around the lakes, and he went out happily dawn after dawn to hunt these. At first he killed them with a small spear or stones from a sling, or trapped them. But he occasionally took a shotgun and brought down dozens in one day.

'This is a paradise!' he said one evening to the Silversteins. 'A world such as it should be! d.a.m.ned few humans, and an abundance of wild life! And yet this place is barren compared to what Africa must be! We must go down there when spring comes!'

Drummond sometimes felt like remonstrating with Gribardsun. He thought that the Englishman spent too much time hunting when he should have been doing his scientific work. But Rachel said that he was learning the inner intimate life of the tribe by partic.i.p.ating in their activities - not just by observations. Moreover, could Drummond truthfully say that Gribardsun had neglected any of his scientific work?

Every second day, von Billmann reported via their tiny transceivers. By the time the first snows came, he had recorded and noted enough of the language to keep him busy for years. He had also succeeded in gaining some fluency in the strange whispering speech.

'I'll be coming tomorrow,' he said. 'Leaving here, that is. They're giving a big shindig for me tonight. We'll be eating mammoth and bison and horse meat, lots of duck, and plenty of berries and greens. And that fermented berry and fruit juice I told you about. It tastes like h.e.l.l, but it sure packs a punch.'

That was another unexpected discovery. It had not been suspected that alcohol had been made so early. But the knowledge of alcohol was apparently not extensive as yet. The Wota'shaimg, for instance, knew nothing of it.

The main reason that von Billmann was returning, aside from his longing for civilized companionship, was that the Wotagrub were moving out.