Read Online War Against the Rull by A. E. van Vogt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. E. van Vogt
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semi-blackness that was the sky beyond the horizon. In the near distance the piling rock showed fantastic shapes, as if frozen in a state of writhing anguish. And there was no beauty in it, no sweep of grandeur, simply endless, desperate miles of black, tortured deadness —and silence!
He grew aware of the silence with a start that pierced his body like a physical shock. The silence seemed suddenly alive. It pressed unrelentingly down upon that flat stretch of rock where they stood. A malevolent silence that kept on and on, without echoes, without even a wind now to whistle and moan over the billion caves and gouged trenches that honeycombed the bleak, dark, treacherous land around them. A silence that seemed the very spirit of this harsh and deadly little world, here under that cold, brilliant sun. ""Oppressive isn't it?"
Jamieson stared at her without exactly seeing her. His gaze was far away. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten what it felt like; and I hadn't realized how much I'd forgotten. Well, we'd better get started."
As they leaped cautiously over the rock, assisted by the smaller gravitation of the moon, the woman said, "What do you think you've found out about ezwals?"
"I can't tell you that," Jamieson replied. "If you knew what I know, hating them, you'd destroy them."
"Why didn't you tell the Council you had specific information instead of merely offering what seemed to be an hypothesis? They're sensible people."
"Sensible!" echoed Jamieson, and his tone of voice was significant with irony.
"I don't believe you have anything but a theory," said Barbara Whitman flatly. "So stop pretending."
7
Two hours later the Sun was high in those dark, gloomy heavens. It had been two hours of silence; two hours while they tramped precariously along thin stretches of rock between fantastic valleys that yawned on either side, while they skirted the edges of caves whose bleak depths sheered straight down into the restless bowels of the Moon; two hours of desolation.
The great black cliff, no longer misted by distance, loomed near and gigantic. As far as the eye could see it stretched to either side; and from where Jamieson toiled and leaped ever more wearily, its wall seemed to rear up abrupt and glassy and unscalable.
He gasped, "I hate to confess it, but I'm not sure I can climb that cliff."
The woman turned a face toward him that had lost its brown healthiness in a gray, dull fatigue.' A hint of fire came into her eyes. "It's hunger!" she said curtly. "I told you what it would be like. We're starving."
Jamieson pressed on, but after a moment slackened his pace and said, "This grasseater—it also eats the smaller branches of trees, doesn't it?"
"Yes. That's what its long neck is for. What about it?"
"Is that all it eats?"
"That and grass."
"Nothing else?" Jamieson's voice was sharp with question, his face drawn tight with insistence. "Think."
Barbara bridled. "Don't take that tone to me," she said. "What's the use of all this anyway?"
"Sorry—about the tone, I mean. What does it drink?"
"It likes ice. They always stay near the rivers. During the brief melting periods each year, all the water from the forests runs into the rivers and freezes. The only other thing it eats or drinks is salt. Like so many animals, they absolutely have to have salt, and it's pretty rare."
"Salt! That's it!" Jamieson's voice was triumphant. "We'll have to turn back. We passed a stretch of rock salt about a mile back. We'll have to get some."
"Go back! Are you crazy ? "
Jamieson stared at her, his eyes gray pools of steely glitter. "Listen, Barbara, I said a while ago that I didn't think I could climb those cliffs. Well, don't worry, I'll climb them. And I'll last through all today, and all tomorrow and the other twelve or fifteen or twenty days. I've put on about twenty-five pounds during the last ten years that I've been an administrator. Well, damn it, my body'll use that as food, and by Heaven, I'll be
He grew aware of the silence with a start that pierced his body like a physical shock. The silence seemed suddenly alive. It pressed unrelentingly down upon that flat stretch of rock where they stood. A malevolent silence that kept on and on, without echoes, without even a wind now to whistle and moan over the billion caves and gouged trenches that honeycombed the bleak, dark, treacherous land around them. A silence that seemed the very spirit of this harsh and deadly little world, here under that cold, brilliant sun. ""Oppressive isn't it?"
Jamieson stared at her without exactly seeing her. His gaze was far away. "Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten what it felt like; and I hadn't realized how much I'd forgotten. Well, we'd better get started."
As they leaped cautiously over the rock, assisted by the smaller gravitation of the moon, the woman said, "What do you think you've found out about ezwals?"
"I can't tell you that," Jamieson replied. "If you knew what I know, hating them, you'd destroy them."
"Why didn't you tell the Council you had specific information instead of merely offering what seemed to be an hypothesis? They're sensible people."
"Sensible!" echoed Jamieson, and his tone of voice was significant with irony.
"I don't believe you have anything but a theory," said Barbara Whitman flatly. "So stop pretending."
7
Two hours later the Sun was high in those dark, gloomy heavens. It had been two hours of silence; two hours while they tramped precariously along thin stretches of rock between fantastic valleys that yawned on either side, while they skirted the edges of caves whose bleak depths sheered straight down into the restless bowels of the Moon; two hours of desolation.
The great black cliff, no longer misted by distance, loomed near and gigantic. As far as the eye could see it stretched to either side; and from where Jamieson toiled and leaped ever more wearily, its wall seemed to rear up abrupt and glassy and unscalable.
He gasped, "I hate to confess it, but I'm not sure I can climb that cliff."
The woman turned a face toward him that had lost its brown healthiness in a gray, dull fatigue.' A hint of fire came into her eyes. "It's hunger!" she said curtly. "I told you what it would be like. We're starving."
Jamieson pressed on, but after a moment slackened his pace and said, "This grasseater—it also eats the smaller branches of trees, doesn't it?"
"Yes. That's what its long neck is for. What about it?"
"Is that all it eats?"
"That and grass."
"Nothing else?" Jamieson's voice was sharp with question, his face drawn tight with insistence. "Think."
Barbara bridled. "Don't take that tone to me," she said. "What's the use of all this anyway?"
"Sorry—about the tone, I mean. What does it drink?"
"It likes ice. They always stay near the rivers. During the brief melting periods each year, all the water from the forests runs into the rivers and freezes. The only other thing it eats or drinks is salt. Like so many animals, they absolutely have to have salt, and it's pretty rare."
"Salt! That's it!" Jamieson's voice was triumphant. "We'll have to turn back. We passed a stretch of rock salt about a mile back. We'll have to get some."
"Go back! Are you crazy ? "
Jamieson stared at her, his eyes gray pools of steely glitter. "Listen, Barbara, I said a while ago that I didn't think I could climb those cliffs. Well, don't worry, I'll climb them. And I'll last through all today, and all tomorrow and the other twelve or fifteen or twenty days. I've put on about twenty-five pounds during the last ten years that I've been an administrator. Well, damn it, my body'll use that as food, and by Heaven, I'll be
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