Suddenly, however, one of the soldiers caught sight of him from the corner of an eye and, spluttering with surprise, whirled to bring up his own rifle.
Jask killed him.
One of the other soldiers shouted, fired.
The bolt missed Jask.
He fired again himself, twice, and ended the battle almost before it had begun. His superior musculature and his improved reactions were no match for those soft, pampered men.
That's got them in an uproar in the pass! — Tedesco, chuckling.
Are you all right? — Melopina.
Fine.
You get all three? — Chaney.
Of course, Jask 'pathed.
He went by the corpses and without looking down at them crept farther up the hillside until he broke from the trees and entered the jumble of rocks where the other soldiers waited…
24
Shortly after midnight, with clouds drifting across the pocked face of the moon and the snowy caps of the Gabriel Fit Range dimming in sympathy, the five espers walked through Boomer's Pass, carrying their supplies on their backs. They were not opposed by any more of the Potest-Amon Enclave's Pures, for none of that patrol had survived the previous hour. They passed the silent, twisted bodies without looking down at them, descended the Killicone Highway into that civilized region known as the Plains of Hammerau.
I wonder if we haven't overestimated ourselves, Jask 'pathed to the others.
In what way? — Kiera, showing rows of fangs in a curious smile.
I wonder if we're really a new breed of men, superior to all the men who 've come before us.
Witnessing death, any man begins to doubt himself, Tedesco 'pathed.
Jask 'pathed, If we're really a new breed, superior, special— why should we have to kill? Murder is a primitive art.
Murder is the sport of primitives, Tedesco agreed. But that is all the more reason why we must protect ourselves from them— by whatever means necessary. There are so few of us, that we cannot afford to lose a single member of our community.
Jask was not satisfied. If murder is the primitive man's tool — and if those Pures, those non-espers, are more primitive than we are — why did we prove superior as killers?
We had better weapons, Tedesco explained.
We were more primitive?
All we did was survive, Tedesco 'pathed. That's the first law of evolution: The new breed prospers at the expense of the old — otherwise the race is stymied and never changes.
Just the same, Jask 'pathed, I hope we don't have to kill any more men. Animals, Wildlands beasts — that's different. But no more men. We lessen ourselves with each such murder.
Chaney 'pathed, There's one other thing I think is a sign of primitive cultures, besides their willingness to kill for other reasons than survival.
What's that? — Jask.
Chaney 'pathed, They're riddled with goddamned moralists!
Tedesco laughed aloud, and Melopina giggled at Jask's side.
My husband the philosopher! — Kiera.
Chaney 'pathed, I'm serious. Civilized men should be able to sense the difference between a right act and a wrong act, should know what evil is and what good is. He should not require self-appointed or group-appointed moralists to tell him what he must and must not do. I've been fed up with preachers all my life, men of small stature and a need for power, leeches that feed on other people's guilt.
Agreed! — Tedesco.
Jask sighed. I can take a hint, especially when it's delivered with such force. We killed because we had to.
Because they forced us to — Chaney.
Would you rather have been killed yourself? — Kiera to Jask.
No.
Or have seen Melopina die? — Kiera again.
No!
Chaney 'pathed, You see, then, that morality is always relative — except to the primitive.
They rested only twice during the long night, traveling on foot along the Killicone Highway until they were only five kilometers from the tainted village of Dragontuck on the banks of the wide, swiftly flowing Hair of Senta. Here, they left the road and on a series of smooth stones crossed the river at its widest point, where the water was the shallowest. On the far side they struck southwest through the Plains of Hammerau, toward that next pocket of the Wildlands known as Smoke Den.
Because the only nearby Pure patrol had been obliterated, and because they were no longer in the unsafe Wildlands, they went those long night hours unmolested and, shortly after dawn, made camp in a series of convenient limestone caves twenty kilometers from the town of Darby's Harbor and the Pure enclave of Majestic Apple.
Tedesco took the first watch, while the others made their beds.
Jask and Melopina chose to sleep beneath the same blanket, farther along the tunnel from Chaney and Kiera, where they might be alone. They held each other for a long while, kissing, nipping, 'pathing. When they undressed each other with eager hands, they were both keyed to a fever pitch of desire. Beneath the soft blanket she lay back raising and spreading her legs as Jask found and entered her. They rolled and tossed as they made love; they 'pathed their happiness back and forth, permitted each other to slide into their neural systems to sense the sex act from the opposite viewpoint, moving, moving, into several long explosions of sensation and then, late in the afternoon, into a short sleep.
Later, as they coupled once more, he 'pathed, I love you.
She 'pathed the same.
You and me.
She 'pathed, Us.
The two of us, always.
The five of us! she 'pathed back at him. He was certain that her projection had been augmented by other minds — precisely, three other minds — but he did not care about the intrusion. An esper might never have total privacy — but then, being an esper, he no longer required it.
Melopina and Jask slept little that day, but were ready to begin the trek again after nightfall. Chaney, Kiera and Tedesco were also in a very good mood. Triumphs had been shared.
Three weeks after they entered the Plains of Hammerau they left them once again, climbing down into that Wildlands sector known as the Smoke Den and, in past ages, as Satan's Balls, the Stone Kettle and Ghosts' Cauldron. The rounded stones were smooth underfoot, wet and treacherous. They reached the floor of Smoke Den without casualty, however, their breath labored in that humid atmosphere.
Here there was no plant life.
Here no animals prowled. At least none they could see.
Here the air was still, stale.
All that moved, aside from the espers, was the fog, which was everywhere and thick. It clung heavily to the ground, thinned as it rose, but still obscured the stars and made a fuzzy blotch of the sun.
They slept in a fog blanket.
They walked through veils of mist.
