Seed of the Gods

expose the soft flesh underneath her scales. And there would be other changes, changes the mere thought of which left him weak. His plea was rejected coldly. Red Earth's mind was tightly closed. In the whole of civilization there were only a small picture of unbreakable laws and Rack had broken the most severely enforced one. It was unthinkable. Yet it had happened. In the face of that fact, nothing mattered, not even the chance for new life, the most desired event in the life of man. «Please, you must listen. I myself did not dig.» «I will keep the evidence of your folly,» Red Earth said sternly. «You will not be given the opportunity to cleanse it further, although you have, obviously, already tried to erase the traces of the subsurface from it. You will return to your establishment. There you will stay until a council can be arranged.» A picture of time, extending past the time of storms into the new beginning. By then Rack's tint would have long since faded. The moment would have passed. «You will not listen?» he asked. «I am but one. The serious nature of this crime demands a council.» «And my readiness?» Rack asked. «Wasted.» And over Red Earth's anger and shock and fear hung a shroud of sadness. «Go.» Rack picked his way back to his establishment, paving no heed to the waste of his energies and forces. Once inside, he fell into his rack. He felt unjustly used. He had not dug. The water had dug, not he. His innocence was proved by the fact that he had suffered no ill effects from his experiment, but had instead discovered an amazing object. To his astonishment, the object had not even aroused Red Earth's deepest curiosity. Even a Power Giver—Beautiful Wings, oh, Beautiful Wings—had been impressed. Any Healer would have been beside himself with excitement. But to a cold-blooded Far Seer the suspected breaking of an ancient law was the issue, not the mind-boggling presence of the obviously crafted object. The situation was completely without logic. Rack's world was an orderly one. It ran on age-old principles that had been proven with time. In his world such a misunderstanding was not possible. It was unbelievable to him that he was to be robbed of his chance to contribute to the scant life force of the planet. Who indeed was breaking the law? Not he. The law-breaker was clearly Red Earth, who was trying to negate one of nature's most elemental forces. Beautiful Wings. Ah… He opened his mind and sent. The distance was far too great. But in his state of openness he intercepted Red Earth's message, directed over Rack's establishment to a northern Far Seer—the call for council. The urgency in Red Earth's thoughts made a cold chill run down Rack's spine. Hearing Red Earth's charges, he began to realize the seriousness of his predicament. In a world that revered life he did not fear death as a punishment, but in outlining the crime Red Earth touched on possible punishments that chilled Rack's mind. Banishment. To the far southland with its burning earth that dealt a slow, lonely death amid choking gases belched up from the earth's bowels. Or to a lonely station where the frost sheet never melted. He closed and considered. In all fairness he was due to be questioned, for his actions in the small, pure valley had been out of the ordinary. His use of running water to cut through the shallow layer of soft earth was, at best, a daring innovation, and Far Seers were affected strongly by any hint of innovation. Life's balance was so precarious that experimentation was to be carefully considered before being undertaken. But he had done no harm in the valley. His only crime was greed; he had stayed too long, and had had to use some of the life force of Beautiful Wings to extricate himself from his self-created crisis. For that error he would gladly accept a punishment tour in the far north, provided the tour began after his joining. Such a sentence was not the wishful thinking of a guilty individual —such punishments had been meted out in the past. He would not, could not, accept the punishment being suggested in advance by Red Earth, for banishment was worse than death. Not only would he himself die a slow, lingering death, but his offspring would remain unconceived. Thus, the planet would be deprived of two life units. Could not the Far Seers understand that? If he had indeed dug in the earth, then he would have expected the most severe punishment. Or would he? Guilt was a matter of degree. If he had willingly dug in the soft earth with his hands—a dark thought—he would have deserved punishment. Or… An entirely new line of thought occurred to him. Even if he had dug in the valley by hand he would have, according to his measurements, suffered no bodily damage. So where was the crime? Red Earth would have been shocked to find a Healer seriously questioning the laws. It didn't happen. All forms of life were involved in the struggle for existence and it was imperative that all forms obey the proven laws. But here was a Healer with serious questions. Here was a Healer who had seen the layer of soft earth being cut, washed away by running water. Here was a Healer who had thrust his hands into the disturbed mud, not digging, but feeling the subsurface material. Here was a Healer who had broken the spirit of the law, if not the letter of the law, and here was a Healer who had survived and had proven to his own satisfaction that at least one of the laws had no basis. Rack had no doubt that to dig in most sinkholes would mean death. He could feel the deadly hard projectiles on his scales when he merely walked close by a sinkhole. But if the law was not in total error, it was at least subject to exceptions, for in that wonderful, pure-aired valley, he had seen and felt the subsurface and had found there a piece of material that brought to mind other serious questions about the wisdom of his civilization. Rack prowled his establishment, breathing carelessly. He slept little, and awoke to find his russet loins turning a pinker, brighter shade. He pictured Beautiful Wings the Power Giver and the image was unbearably sweet. He remembered her response when he suggested that he would return, and he contemplated the loss of his only readiness, for to have more than one change in life was rare. He was young. He felt that he was in the right. «If I am a law-breaker,» he told himself, «then I am lost. But the sins of the father should not be extended to cover his seed.» With his loins pink and bright, such thoughts seemed natural. Nature moved in him, making chemical changes in his body, sending delicate urges into his brain. By the midpoint of the day, he had made his decision. Red Earth, in his intercepted thoughts, had indicated that he would contact every Far Seer east of the river. Such an endeavor would take time and energy and would, Rack estimated, cover the period of this day, another day and possibly still another. The establishment of Beautiful Wings the Power Giver was a quick jog away. If he were a criminal, then he was not responsible for his actions. Moreover, he could be punished only once. And once implanted in Beautiful Wings' body, his seed would be life, and thus sacred. He stored a maximum quantity of air, packed his winter's supply of broth and a sealed container of closely crowded Breathers to add to Beautiful Wings' colonies. He marched swiftly, heavily burdened, not able to breathe in the fierce storms that had now reached their peak of deadliness. She was waiting, sensing his coming from afar, meeting his mind and discussing the situation as he jogged through the atmosphere-darkened emptiness. At first she was shocked and reluctant to grant him entrance, but his emotion-filled thoughts found an echo in her own feelings. The emotions of a Power Giver at joining time were nature's strongest force, and she had witnessed Rack's beginning tint, had felt the strength and power of his personality, and had seen the beauty of his body. She stood inside the establishment, unable to control the flowering of her chest scales as he entered. They opened out delicately, flaring in a curling sheet, forming a ring around delicate pinkness of the flesh of motherhood, the flesh from which the offspring would feed. The first sight of her sent a blast of fierce heat through Rack's loins and he felt his own scales stir. He sent beauty, beauty, love. And she answered with a sweetness that made his knees weak. Quickly he joined his container of Breathers with her colonies, making the colony sufficient for two. Then, his gills having been vented in the lock, he loosed stored air from his huge body and felt his storage cells give gladly to share with his love. In a sweet, rich plenty of air they stood gazing at each other, inner lids wide. Rack's vibrant blue eyes sparkled with his energies. He could see far into Beautiful Wings' soul, and it was open to him, sending potent, beautiful thoughts of submission and love. «You, too, may be punished,» he told her. «No punishment could take away the memory of this,» she answered. «We have'—he sent a picture of the time remaining before Red Earth could complete his contact with the eastern Far Seers. «Then he will notice that I am not in my establishment.» «When I first saw you, when I was a child, I dreamed of this day,» she said. «Our time could be shortened if he discovers me here. You would, thus, be robbed of your heritage.» «But we will have created life.» she said. Life cannot be destroyed. The picture of incredible passion she sent made him gasp. The beauty of her tender, exposed chest buds sent a rich, red glow moving up from his loins. He felt his scales spread wide. «Before I throw aside my covering,» he said, «be sure, Beautiful Wings.» «I will be content with one night, if that is all fate will allow. My only fear, my only regret, is for you. For as you know, the mind of a Far Seer is powerful.» «In all of history there has been no record of a Far Seer destroying life.» «But he is agitated. In all of recorded history no one has dug.» She sent the last picture regretfully. «I think not of myself,» he sent. «But of you.» «For me the mere throwing aside of your covering will open a world of delight,» she said. Slowly he drew aside the opaque covering. His maleness was fiery red, his scales folded back on themselves to reveal the never-before exposed beauty. She made an audible purr of pleasure and drew aside the belt of fashioned Material to show that she, too, was at the height of her readiness. He knew then the full picture of her name, derived from an age-old picture of wing-like organs, fragile, brightly colored, delicate. He had never seen such loveliness and his entire being vibrated as she moved languidly toward him. «They tremble and hunger for your touch,» she sent in softness. His eyes caressed the pink, exposed breast buds, his fingers trembled as they touched them and slid down her soft body. The red tint of his sex grew and sent scales folding back as his maleness fully emerged. She, in trembling wonder, touched it with her hand. «Now we will join,» he whispered, leading her to the rack. She sat down, legs crossed and he duplicated the position, looking deep into her brown eyes, letting himself