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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Homecoming, by Miguel Hidalgo
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Homecoming
-
-Author: Miguel Hidalgo
-
-Release Date: October 17, 2019 [EBook #60515]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMECOMING ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="343" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>HOMECOMING</h1>
-
-<h2>BY MIGUEL HIDALGO</h2>
-
-<p class="ph1"><i>What lasts forever? Does love?<br />
-Does death?... Nothing lasts<br />
-forever.... Not even forever</i></p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Worlds of If Science Fiction, April 1958.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>The large horse plodded slowly over the shifting sand.</p>
-
-<p>The rider was of medium size, with huge, strong hands and seemingly
-hollow eyes. Strange eyes, alive and aflame. They had no place in
-the dust-caked, tired body, yet there they were, seeking, always
-seeking&mdash;searching the clear horizon, and never seeming to find what
-they sought.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="188" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>The horse moved faster now. They were nearing a river; the water would
-be welcome on tired bodies and dry throats. He spurred his horse,
-and when they reached the water's edge, he dismounted and unsaddled
-the horse. Then both man and horse plunged headlong into the waiting
-torrent, deep into the cool embrace of the clear liquid. They soaked it
-into their pores and drank deeply of it, feeling life going once more
-through their veins. Satisfied, they lifted themselves from the water,
-and the man lay down on the yellow sand of the river bank to sleep.</p>
-
-<p>When he awoke, the sun was almost setting. The bright shafts of red
-light spilled across the sky, making the mountains silent scarlet
-shadows on the face of the rippling water. Quickly he gathered
-driftwood, and built a small fire. From his pack he removed some of
-the coffee he had found in one of the ruined cities. He brought water
-from the river in the battered coffee-pot he had salvaged, and while he
-waited for it to boil, he went to his horse, Conqueror, stroking his
-mane and whispering in his ear. Then he led him silently to a grassy
-slope where he hobbled him and left him for the night.</p>
-
-<p>In the fading light, he ate the hard beef jerky and drank the scalding
-coffee. Refreshed and momentarily content, he sat staring into the
-dying fire, seeing the bright glowing coals as living fingers clutching
-at the wood in consuming embrace, taking all and returning nothing but
-ashes.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly his eyelids yielded. His body sagged, and blood seemed to fill
-his brain, bathing it in a gentle, warm flood.</p>
-
-<p>He slept. His brain slept.</p>
-
-<p>But the portion of his brain called memory stirred. It was all alone;
-all else was at rest. Images began to appear, drawn from inexhaustible
-files, wherein are kept all thoughts, past, present, and future....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It was the night before he was to go overseas. World War III had been
-declared, and he had enlisted, receiving his old rank of captain. He
-was with his wife in the living room of their home. They had put the
-children to bed&mdash;their sons&mdash;and now sat on the couch, watching the
-blazing fire. It was then that he had showed it to her.</p>
-
-<p>"I've got something to tell you, and something to show you."</p>
-
-<p>He had removed the box from his pocket and opened it. And heard her cry
-of surprised joy.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, a ring, and it's a diamond, too!" she cried in her rich, happy
-voice which always seemed to send a thrill through his body.</p>
-
-<p>"It's for you; so long as you wear it, I'll come back, even from the
-dead, if need be. Read the inscription."</p>
-
-<p>She held the ring up to the light and read aloud, "It is forever."</p>
-
-<p>Then she had slipped the ring on her finger and her arms around him.
-He held her very close, feeling the warmth from her body flowing into
-his and making him oblivious to everything except that she was there in
-his arms and that he was sinking deep, deep into a familiar sea, where
-he had been many times before but each time found something new and
-unexplored, some vastly different emotion he could never quite explain.</p>
-
-<p>"Wait!" she cried. "I've something for you, too."</p>
-
-<p>She took off the locket she wore about her neck and held it up to the
-shimmering light, letting it spin at the end of its chain. It caught
-the shadows of the fire and reflected them, greatly magnified, over the
-room. It was in the shape of a star, encrusted with emeralds, with one
-large ruby in the center. When he opened it, he found a picture of her
-in one side, and in the other a picture of the children. He took her in
-his arms again, and loosened her long, black hair, burying his face in
-it for a moment. Then he kissed her, and instantly was drawn down into
-the abyss which seemed to have no beginning or any end.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning had been bleak and gray. The mist clung to the wet,
-sodden ground, and the air was heavy in his lungs. He had driven off
-in the jeep the army had sent for him, watching her there on the porch
-until the mist swirled around her feet and she ran back into the house
-and slammed the door. His cold fingers found the locket, making a
-little bulge under his uniform, and the touch of it seemed to warm the
-blood in his veins.</p>
-
-<p>Three days later they had landed in Spain, merged with another
-division, then crossed the Pyrenees into France, and finally to Paris
-where the fighting had begun. Already the city was a silent graveyard,
-littered with the rubble of towers and cathedrals which had once been
-great.</p>
-
-<p>Three years later they were on the road to Moscow. Over a thousand
-miles lay behind, a dead man on every foot of those miles. Yet victory
-was near. The Russians had not yet used the H-bomb; the threat of
-annihilation by the retaliation forces had been too great.</p>
-
-<p>He had done well in the war, and had been decorated many times for
-bravery in action. Now he felt the victory that seemed to be in the
-air, and he had wished it would come quickly, so that he might return
-to her. Home. The very feel of the word was everything a battle-weary
-soldier needed to make him fight harder and live longer.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly he had become aware of a droning, wooshing sound above him. It
-grew louder and louder until he knew what it was.</p>
-
-<p>"Heavy bombers!" The alarm had sounded, and the men had headed for
-their foxholes.</p>
-
-<p>But the planes had passed over, the sun glinting on their bellies,
-reflecting a blinding light. They were bound for bigger, more important
-targets. When the all-clear had sounded, the men clambered from their
-shelters. An icy wind swept the field, bringing with it clouds which
-covered the sun. A strange fear had gripped him then....</p>
-
-<p>Across the Atlantic, over the pole, via Alaska, the great bombers
-flew. In cities, great and small, the air raid sirens sounded, high
-screaming noises which had jarred the people from sleep in time to die.
-The defending planes roared into the sky to intercept the on-rushing
-bombers. The horrendous battle split the universe. Many bombers fell,
-victims of fanatical suicide planes, or of missiles that streaked
-across the sky which none could escape.</p>
-
-<p>But too many bombers got through, dropping their deadly cargo upon the
-helpless cities. And not all the prayers or entreaties to any God had
-stopped their carnage. First there had been the red flashes that melted
-buildings into molten streams, and then the great triple-mushroom cloud
-filled with the poisonous gases that the wind swept away to other
-cities, where men had not died quickly and mercifully, but had rotted
-away, leaving shreds of putrid flesh behind to mark the places where
-they had crawled.</p>
-
-<p>The retaliatory forces had roared away to bomb the Russian cities. Few,
-if any, had returned. Too much blood and life were on their hands.
-Those who had remained alive had found a resting place on the crown
-of some distant mountain. Others had preferred the silent peaceful
-sea, where flesh stayed not long on bones, and only darting fishes and
-merciful beams of filtered light found their aluminum coffins.</p>
-
-<p>The war had ended.</p>
-
-<p>To no avail. Neither side had won. Most of the cities and the majority
-of the population of both countries had been destroyed. Even their
-governments had vanished, leaving a silent nothingness. The armies that
-remained were without leaders, without sources of supplies, save what
-they could forage and beg from an unfriendly people.</p>
-
-<p>They were alone now, a group of tired, battered men, for whom life held
-nothing. Their families had long since died, their bodies turned to
-dust, their spirits fled on the winds to a new world.</p>
-
-<p>Yet these remnants of an army must return&mdash;or at least try. Their
-exodus was just beginning. Somehow he had managed to hold together the
-few men left from his force. He had always nourished the hope that
-she might still be alive. And now that the war was over he had to
-return&mdash;had to know whether she was still waiting for him.</p>
-
-<p>They had started the long trek. Throughout Europe anarchy reigned. He
-and his men were alone. All they could do now was fight. Finally they
-reached the seaport city of Calais. With what few men he had left, he
-had commandeered a small yacht, and they had taken to the sea.</p>
-
-<p>After months of storms and bad luck, they had been shipwrecked
-somewhere off the coast of Mexico. He had managed to swim ashore,
-and had been found by a fisherman's family. Many months he had spent
-swimming and fishing, recovering his strength, inquiring about the
-United States. The Mexicans had spoken with fear of the land across the
-Rio Grande. All its great cities had been destroyed, and those that had
-been only partially destroyed were devoid of people. The land across
-the Rio Grande had become a land of shadows. The winds were poisoned,
-and the few people who might have survived, were crazed and maimed by
-the blasts. Few men had dared cross the Rio Grande into "El Mundo gris
-de Noviembre"&mdash;the November world. Those who had, had never returned.</p>
-
-<p>In time he had traveled north until he reached the Rio Grande. He had
-waded into the muddy waters and somehow landed on the American side. In
-the November world.</p>
-
-<p>It was rightly called. The deserts were long. All plant life had died,
-leaving to those once great fertile stretches, nothing but the sad,
-temporal beauty that comes with death. No people had he seen. Only the
-ruins of what had once been their cities. He had walked through them,
-and all that he had seen were the small mutant rodents, and all that he
-had heard was the occasional swish of the wind as it whisked along what
-might have been dead leaves, but wasn't.</p>
-
-<p>He had been on the trail for a long time. His food was nearly
-exhausted. The mountains were just beginning, and he hoped to find food
-there. He had not found food, but his luck had been with him. He had
-found a horse. Not a normal horse, but a mutation. It was almost twice
-as large as a regular horse. Its skin seemed to shimmer and was like
-glassy steel to the touch. From the center of its forehead grew a horn,
-straight out, as the horn of a unicorn. But most startling of all were
-the animal's eyes which seemed to speak&mdash;a silent mental speech, which
-he could understand. The horse had looked up as he approached it and
-seemed to say: "Follow me."</p>
-
-<p>And he had followed. Over a mountain, until they came to a pass, and
-finally to a narrow path which led to an old cabin. He had found it
-empty, but there were cans of food and a rifle and many shells. He had
-remained there a long time&mdash;how long he could not tell, for he could
-only measure time by the cycles of the sun and the moon. Finally he
-had taken the horse, the rifle and what food was left, and once again
-started the long journey home.</p>
-
-<p>The farther north he went, the more life seemed to have survived. He
-had seen great herds of horses like his own, stampeding across the
-plains, and strange birds which he could not identify. Yet he had seen
-no human beings.</p>
-
-<p>But he knew he was closer now. Closer to home. He recognized the land.
-How, he did not know, for it was much changed. A sensing, perhaps, of
-what it had once been. He could not be more than two days' ride away.
-Once he was through this desert, he would find her, he would be with
-her once again; all would be well, and his long journey would be over.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The images faded. Even memory slept in a flow of warm blood. Body and
-mind slept into the shadows of the dawn.</p>
-
-<p>He awoke and stretched the cramped muscles of his body. At the edge of
-the water he removed his clothes and stared at himself in the rippling
-mirror. His muscles were lean and hard, evenly placed throughout the
-length of his frame. A deep ridge ran down the length of his torso,
-separating the muscles, making the chest broad. Well satisfied with his
-body, he plunged into the cold water, deep down, until he thought his
-lungs would burst; then swiftly returned to the clean air, tingling in
-every pore. He dried himself and dressed. Conqueror was eating the long
-grass near the stream. Quickly he saddled him. No time for breakfast.
-He would ride all day and the next night. And he would be home.</p>
-
-<p>Still northward. The hours crawled slower than a dying man. The sun
-was a torch that pierced his skin, seeming to melt his bones into a
-burning stream within his body. But day at last gave way to night, and
-the sun to the moon. The torch became a white pock-marked goddess, with
-streaming hair called stars.</p>
-
-<p>In the moonlight he had not seen the crater until he was at its
-very edge. Even then he might not have seen it had not the horse
-stopped suddenly. The wind swirled through its vast emptiness,
-slapping his face with dusty hands. For a moment he thought he heard
-voices&mdash;mournful, murmuring voices, echoing up from the misty depths.
-He turned quickly away and did not look back.</p>
-
-<p>Night paled into day; day burned into night.</p>
-
-<p>There were clouds in the sky now, and a gentle wind caressed the sweat
-from his tired body. He stopped. There it was! Barely discernible
-through the moonlight, he saw it. Home.</p>
-
-<p>Quickly he dismounted and ran. Now he could see a small light in the
-window, and he knew they were there. His breath came in hard ragged
-gulps. At the window he peered in, and as his eyes became accustomed
-to the inner gloom, he saw how bare the room was. No matter. Now that
-he was home he would build new furniture, and the house would be even
-better than it had been before.</p>
-
-<p>Then he saw her.</p>
-
-<p>She was sitting motionless in a straight wooden chair beside the
-fireplace, the feeble light cast by the embers veiling her in mauve
-shadows. He waited, wondering if she were.... Presently she stirred
-like a restless child in sleep, then moved from the chair to the pile
-of wood near the hearth, and replenished the fire. The wood caught
-quickly, sending up long tongues of flame, and forming a bright pool of
-light around her.</p>
-
-<p>His blood froze. The creature illuminated by the firelight was a
-monster. Large greasy scales covered its face and arms, and there was
-no hair on its head. Its gums were toothless cavities in a sunken,
-mumbling mouth. The eyes, turned momentarily toward the window, were
-empty of life.</p>
-
-<p>"No, no!" he cried soundlessly.</p>
-
-<p>This was not his house. In his delirium he had only imagined he had
-found it. He had been searching so long. He would go on searching.
-He was turning wearily away from the window when the movement of the
-creature beside the fire held his attention. It had taken a ring from
-one skeleton-like finger and stood, turning the ring slowly as if
-trying to decipher some inscription inside it.</p>
-
-<p>He knew then. He had come home.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly he moved toward the door. A great weakness was upon him. His
-feet were stones, reluctant to leave the earth. His body was a weed,
-shriveled by thirst. He grasped the doorknob and clung to it, looking
-up at the night sky and trying to draw strength from the wind that
-passed over him. It was no use. There was no strength. Only fear&mdash;a
-kind of fear he had never known.</p>
-
-<p>He fumbled at his throat, his fingers crawling like cold worms around
-his neck until he found the locket and the clasp which had held it
-safely through endless nightmare days and nights. He slipped the clasp
-and the locket fell into his waiting hand. As one in a dream, he opened
-it, and stared at the pictures, now in the dim moonlight no longer
-faces of those he loved, but grey ghosts from the past. Even the ruby
-had lost its glow. What had once been living fire was now a dull glob
-of darkness.</p>
-
-<p>"Nothing is forever!" He thought he had shouted the words, but only a
-thin sound, the sound of leaves ruffled by the wind, came back to him.</p>
-
-<p>He closed the locket and fastened the clasp, and hung it on the
-doorknob. It moved slowly in the wind, back and forth, like a pendulum.
-"Forever&mdash;forever. Only death is forever." He could have sworn he heard
-the words.</p>
-
-<p>He ran. Away from the house. To the large horse with a horn in the
-center of its forehead, like a unicorn. Once in the saddle, the spurt
-of strength left him. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped onto his
-chest.</p>
-
-<p>Conqueror trotted away, the sound of his hooves echoing hollowly in the
-vast emptiness.</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Homecoming, by Miguel Hidalgo
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMECOMING ***
-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Homecoming, by Miguel Hidalgo
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Homecoming
-
-Author: Miguel Hidalgo
-
-Release Date: October 17, 2019 [EBook #60515]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMECOMING ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- HOMECOMING
-
- BY MIGUEL HIDALGO
-
- _What lasts forever? Does love?
- Does death?... Nothing lasts
- forever.... Not even forever_
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Worlds of If Science Fiction, April 1958.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-The large horse plodded slowly over the shifting sand.
-
-The rider was of medium size, with huge, strong hands and seemingly
-hollow eyes. Strange eyes, alive and aflame. They had no place in
-the dust-caked, tired body, yet there they were, seeking, always
-seeking--searching the clear horizon, and never seeming to find what
-they sought.
-
-The horse moved faster now. They were nearing a river; the water would
-be welcome on tired bodies and dry throats. He spurred his horse,
-and when they reached the water's edge, he dismounted and unsaddled
-the horse. Then both man and horse plunged headlong into the waiting
-torrent, deep into the cool embrace of the clear liquid. They soaked it
-into their pores and drank deeply of it, feeling life going once more
-through their veins. Satisfied, they lifted themselves from the water,
-and the man lay down on the yellow sand of the river bank to sleep.
-
-When he awoke, the sun was almost setting. The bright shafts of red
-light spilled across the sky, making the mountains silent scarlet
-shadows on the face of the rippling water. Quickly he gathered
-driftwood, and built a small fire. From his pack he removed some of
-the coffee he had found in one of the ruined cities. He brought water
-from the river in the battered coffee-pot he had salvaged, and while he
-waited for it to boil, he went to his horse, Conqueror, stroking his
-mane and whispering in his ear. Then he led him silently to a grassy
-slope where he hobbled him and left him for the night.
-
-In the fading light, he ate the hard beef jerky and drank the scalding
-coffee. Refreshed and momentarily content, he sat staring into the
-dying fire, seeing the bright glowing coals as living fingers clutching
-at the wood in consuming embrace, taking all and returning nothing but
-ashes.
-
-Slowly his eyelids yielded. His body sagged, and blood seemed to fill
-his brain, bathing it in a gentle, warm flood.
-
-He slept. His brain slept.
-
-But the portion of his brain called memory stirred. It was all alone;
-all else was at rest. Images began to appear, drawn from inexhaustible
-files, wherein are kept all thoughts, past, present, and future....
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was the night before he was to go overseas. World War III had been
-declared, and he had enlisted, receiving his old rank of captain. He
-was with his wife in the living room of their home. They had put the
-children to bed--their sons--and now sat on the couch, watching the
-blazing fire. It was then that he had showed it to her.
-
-"I've got something to tell you, and something to show you."
-
-He had removed the box from his pocket and opened it. And heard her cry
-of surprised joy.
-
-"Oh, a ring, and it's a diamond, too!" she cried in her rich, happy
-voice which always seemed to send a thrill through his body.
-
-"It's for you; so long as you wear it, I'll come back, even from the
-dead, if need be. Read the inscription."
-
-She held the ring up to the light and read aloud, "It is forever."
-
-Then she had slipped the ring on her finger and her arms around him.
-He held her very close, feeling the warmth from her body flowing into
-his and making him oblivious to everything except that she was there in
-his arms and that he was sinking deep, deep into a familiar sea, where
-he had been many times before but each time found something new and
-unexplored, some vastly different emotion he could never quite explain.
-
-"Wait!" she cried. "I've something for you, too."
-
-She took off the locket she wore about her neck and held it up to the
-shimmering light, letting it spin at the end of its chain. It caught
-the shadows of the fire and reflected them, greatly magnified, over the
-room. It was in the shape of a star, encrusted with emeralds, with one
-large ruby in the center. When he opened it, he found a picture of her
-in one side, and in the other a picture of the children. He took her in
-his arms again, and loosened her long, black hair, burying his face in
-it for a moment. Then he kissed her, and instantly was drawn down into
-the abyss which seemed to have no beginning or any end.
-
-The next morning had been bleak and gray. The mist clung to the wet,
-sodden ground, and the air was heavy in his lungs. He had driven off
-in the jeep the army had sent for him, watching her there on the porch
-until the mist swirled around her feet and she ran back into the house
-and slammed the door. His cold fingers found the locket, making a
-little bulge under his uniform, and the touch of it seemed to warm the
-blood in his veins.
-
-Three days later they had landed in Spain, merged with another
-division, then crossed the Pyrenees into France, and finally to Paris
-where the fighting had begun. Already the city was a silent graveyard,
-littered with the rubble of towers and cathedrals which had once been
-great.
-
-Three years later they were on the road to Moscow. Over a thousand
-miles lay behind, a dead man on every foot of those miles. Yet victory
-was near. The Russians had not yet used the H-bomb; the threat of
-annihilation by the retaliation forces had been too great.
-
-He had done well in the war, and had been decorated many times for
-bravery in action. Now he felt the victory that seemed to be in the
-air, and he had wished it would come quickly, so that he might return
-to her. Home. The very feel of the word was everything a battle-weary
-soldier needed to make him fight harder and live longer.
-
-Suddenly he had become aware of a droning, wooshing sound above him. It
-grew louder and louder until he knew what it was.
-
-"Heavy bombers!" The alarm had sounded, and the men had headed for
-their foxholes.
-
-But the planes had passed over, the sun glinting on their bellies,
-reflecting a blinding light. They were bound for bigger, more important
-targets. When the all-clear had sounded, the men clambered from their
-shelters. An icy wind swept the field, bringing with it clouds which
-covered the sun. A strange fear had gripped him then....
-
-Across the Atlantic, over the pole, via Alaska, the great bombers
-flew. In cities, great and small, the air raid sirens sounded, high
-screaming noises which had jarred the people from sleep in time to die.
-The defending planes roared into the sky to intercept the on-rushing
-bombers. The horrendous battle split the universe. Many bombers fell,
-victims of fanatical suicide planes, or of missiles that streaked
-across the sky which none could escape.
-
-But too many bombers got through, dropping their deadly cargo upon the
-helpless cities. And not all the prayers or entreaties to any God had
-stopped their carnage. First there had been the red flashes that melted
-buildings into molten streams, and then the great triple-mushroom cloud
-filled with the poisonous gases that the wind swept away to other
-cities, where men had not died quickly and mercifully, but had rotted
-away, leaving shreds of putrid flesh behind to mark the places where
-they had crawled.
-
-The retaliatory forces had roared away to bomb the Russian cities. Few,
-if any, had returned. Too much blood and life were on their hands.
-Those who had remained alive had found a resting place on the crown
-of some distant mountain. Others had preferred the silent peaceful
-sea, where flesh stayed not long on bones, and only darting fishes and
-merciful beams of filtered light found their aluminum coffins.
-
-The war had ended.
-
-To no avail. Neither side had won. Most of the cities and the majority
-of the population of both countries had been destroyed. Even their
-governments had vanished, leaving a silent nothingness. The armies that
-remained were without leaders, without sources of supplies, save what
-they could forage and beg from an unfriendly people.
-
-They were alone now, a group of tired, battered men, for whom life held
-nothing. Their families had long since died, their bodies turned to
-dust, their spirits fled on the winds to a new world.
-
-Yet these remnants of an army must return--or at least try. Their
-exodus was just beginning. Somehow he had managed to hold together the
-few men left from his force. He had always nourished the hope that
-she might still be alive. And now that the war was over he had to
-return--had to know whether she was still waiting for him.
-
-They had started the long trek. Throughout Europe anarchy reigned. He
-and his men were alone. All they could do now was fight. Finally they
-reached the seaport city of Calais. With what few men he had left, he
-had commandeered a small yacht, and they had taken to the sea.
-
-After months of storms and bad luck, they had been shipwrecked
-somewhere off the coast of Mexico. He had managed to swim ashore,
-and had been found by a fisherman's family. Many months he had spent
-swimming and fishing, recovering his strength, inquiring about the
-United States. The Mexicans had spoken with fear of the land across the
-Rio Grande. All its great cities had been destroyed, and those that had
-been only partially destroyed were devoid of people. The land across
-the Rio Grande had become a land of shadows. The winds were poisoned,
-and the few people who might have survived, were crazed and maimed by
-the blasts. Few men had dared cross the Rio Grande into "El Mundo gris
-de Noviembre"--the November world. Those who had, had never returned.
-
-In time he had traveled north until he reached the Rio Grande. He had
-waded into the muddy waters and somehow landed on the American side. In
-the November world.
-
-It was rightly called. The deserts were long. All plant life had died,
-leaving to those once great fertile stretches, nothing but the sad,
-temporal beauty that comes with death. No people had he seen. Only the
-ruins of what had once been their cities. He had walked through them,
-and all that he had seen were the small mutant rodents, and all that he
-had heard was the occasional swish of the wind as it whisked along what
-might have been dead leaves, but wasn't.
-
-He had been on the trail for a long time. His food was nearly
-exhausted. The mountains were just beginning, and he hoped to find food
-there. He had not found food, but his luck had been with him. He had
-found a horse. Not a normal horse, but a mutation. It was almost twice
-as large as a regular horse. Its skin seemed to shimmer and was like
-glassy steel to the touch. From the center of its forehead grew a horn,
-straight out, as the horn of a unicorn. But most startling of all were
-the animal's eyes which seemed to speak--a silent mental speech, which
-he could understand. The horse had looked up as he approached it and
-seemed to say: "Follow me."
-
-And he had followed. Over a mountain, until they came to a pass, and
-finally to a narrow path which led to an old cabin. He had found it
-empty, but there were cans of food and a rifle and many shells. He had
-remained there a long time--how long he could not tell, for he could
-only measure time by the cycles of the sun and the moon. Finally he
-had taken the horse, the rifle and what food was left, and once again
-started the long journey home.
-
-The farther north he went, the more life seemed to have survived. He
-had seen great herds of horses like his own, stampeding across the
-plains, and strange birds which he could not identify. Yet he had seen
-no human beings.
-
-But he knew he was closer now. Closer to home. He recognized the land.
-How, he did not know, for it was much changed. A sensing, perhaps, of
-what it had once been. He could not be more than two days' ride away.
-Once he was through this desert, he would find her, he would be with
-her once again; all would be well, and his long journey would be over.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The images faded. Even memory slept in a flow of warm blood. Body and
-mind slept into the shadows of the dawn.
-
-He awoke and stretched the cramped muscles of his body. At the edge of
-the water he removed his clothes and stared at himself in the rippling
-mirror. His muscles were lean and hard, evenly placed throughout the
-length of his frame. A deep ridge ran down the length of his torso,
-separating the muscles, making the chest broad. Well satisfied with his
-body, he plunged into the cold water, deep down, until he thought his
-lungs would burst; then swiftly returned to the clean air, tingling in
-every pore. He dried himself and dressed. Conqueror was eating the long
-grass near the stream. Quickly he saddled him. No time for breakfast.
-He would ride all day and the next night. And he would be home.
-
-Still northward. The hours crawled slower than a dying man. The sun
-was a torch that pierced his skin, seeming to melt his bones into a
-burning stream within his body. But day at last gave way to night, and
-the sun to the moon. The torch became a white pock-marked goddess, with
-streaming hair called stars.
-
-In the moonlight he had not seen the crater until he was at its
-very edge. Even then he might not have seen it had not the horse
-stopped suddenly. The wind swirled through its vast emptiness,
-slapping his face with dusty hands. For a moment he thought he heard
-voices--mournful, murmuring voices, echoing up from the misty depths.
-He turned quickly away and did not look back.
-
-Night paled into day; day burned into night.
-
-There were clouds in the sky now, and a gentle wind caressed the sweat
-from his tired body. He stopped. There it was! Barely discernible
-through the moonlight, he saw it. Home.
-
-Quickly he dismounted and ran. Now he could see a small light in the
-window, and he knew they were there. His breath came in hard ragged
-gulps. At the window he peered in, and as his eyes became accustomed
-to the inner gloom, he saw how bare the room was. No matter. Now that
-he was home he would build new furniture, and the house would be even
-better than it had been before.
-
-Then he saw her.
-
-She was sitting motionless in a straight wooden chair beside the
-fireplace, the feeble light cast by the embers veiling her in mauve
-shadows. He waited, wondering if she were.... Presently she stirred
-like a restless child in sleep, then moved from the chair to the pile
-of wood near the hearth, and replenished the fire. The wood caught
-quickly, sending up long tongues of flame, and forming a bright pool of
-light around her.
-
-His blood froze. The creature illuminated by the firelight was a
-monster. Large greasy scales covered its face and arms, and there was
-no hair on its head. Its gums were toothless cavities in a sunken,
-mumbling mouth. The eyes, turned momentarily toward the window, were
-empty of life.
-
-"No, no!" he cried soundlessly.
-
-This was not his house. In his delirium he had only imagined he had
-found it. He had been searching so long. He would go on searching.
-He was turning wearily away from the window when the movement of the
-creature beside the fire held his attention. It had taken a ring from
-one skeleton-like finger and stood, turning the ring slowly as if
-trying to decipher some inscription inside it.
-
-He knew then. He had come home.
-
-Slowly he moved toward the door. A great weakness was upon him. His
-feet were stones, reluctant to leave the earth. His body was a weed,
-shriveled by thirst. He grasped the doorknob and clung to it, looking
-up at the night sky and trying to draw strength from the wind that
-passed over him. It was no use. There was no strength. Only fear--a
-kind of fear he had never known.
-
-He fumbled at his throat, his fingers crawling like cold worms around
-his neck until he found the locket and the clasp which had held it
-safely through endless nightmare days and nights. He slipped the clasp
-and the locket fell into his waiting hand. As one in a dream, he opened
-it, and stared at the pictures, now in the dim moonlight no longer
-faces of those he loved, but grey ghosts from the past. Even the ruby
-had lost its glow. What had once been living fire was now a dull glob
-of darkness.
-
-"Nothing is forever!" He thought he had shouted the words, but only a
-thin sound, the sound of leaves ruffled by the wind, came back to him.
-
-He closed the locket and fastened the clasp, and hung it on the
-doorknob. It moved slowly in the wind, back and forth, like a pendulum.
-"Forever--forever. Only death is forever." He could have sworn he heard
-the words.
-
-He ran. Away from the house. To the large horse with a horn in the
-center of its forehead, like a unicorn. Once in the saddle, the spurt
-of strength left him. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped onto his
-chest.
-
-Conqueror trotted away, the sound of his hooves echoing hollowly in the
-vast emptiness.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Homecoming, by Miguel Hidalgo
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