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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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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—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—their sons—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—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.</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"—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—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—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—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—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—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 *** - -***** This file should be named 60515-h.htm or 60515-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/5/1/60515/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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 - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMECOMING *** - -***** This file should be named 60515.txt or 60515.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/5/1/60515/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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