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diff --git a/old/63847.txt b/old/63847.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d28c5c2..0000000 --- a/old/63847.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,912 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Garden of Evil, by Margaret St. Clair - -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: Garden of Evil - -Author: Margaret St. Clair - -Release Date: November 22, 2020 [EBook #63847] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDEN OF EVIL *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - GARDEN OF EVIL - - By MARGARET ST. CLAIR - - Even to a drug-soaked outcast ethnographer Fyhon - was a paradise planet. It was worth anybody's - life to find Dridihad, the secret city of dread! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Summer 1949. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Ericson returned to an awareness of his personal identity quite -suddenly. He had an impression that it was a long time, months at -least, since he had been in a state of normal consciousness. At the -back of his mind a memory of pain had imprinted itself as a signet -makes an impression in hot wax; he shied away from it. "Where am I?" -he asked. - -The green-skinned girl squatting beside him in the coppice looked at -him sideways out of her dark jade eyes. "Hungry?" she asked. - -"But where am--yes, I am hungry. Yes." - -Mnathl--he knew, somehow, that that was her name. Didn't he remember -her from the other side of the gulf in his memory, from the days when -he had begged food in the streets of Penhairn? Mnathl handed him a -nicely-roasted _bosula_ rib. He ate it avidly. He had always thought -the _bosula_ was the best of the food animals of Fyhon. - -When the bone was gnawed clean she passed him, in a folded fresh green -leaf, a mixed grill consisting of bits of _bosula_ liver, kidney, -tripe, salivary glands, and eyes. He ate that, too. When his stomach -was full Ericson lay back with his arms under his head and looked at -the big puffy clouds drifting overhead. He had no desire to think about -himself or the things that had been happening to him in the last three -or four months, but the thoughts came anyhow. - -The chief thing was pain--remorseless, long-continued, pain. Mnathl had -come to him one day when he was sitting on the dock in Penhairn and -told him they were going to Lake Tanais. He had got up and gone with -her obediently; a _byhror_ addict has little will of his own. The pain -had begun after that. - -There had been a barren island in the middle of the brackish, poisonous -waters of the lake, and most of the time, until just latterly, he had -been kept bound for fear he would drown himself in them. Mnathl ... -Mnathl had swum over from the mainland to tend him; she had bathed him -and kept his body free of sores and vermin, set food before him and -tried to coax him to eat. And twice a day she had given him injections -of mercapulan with a hypodermic syringe. His arm was pocked with the -needle marks. Where had she got the syringe and the drug? She must have -stolen them from the big Colony Hospital in Penhairn. - -The injections had brought on the pain. Ericson, at the thought, felt -sweat break out on his upper lip. What he had endured had been just at -the edge of what a man could stand and still live. (His ordeal, had -he known it, had been very much less than it would have been had he -taken the drug cure in the hospital in Penhairn. Mnathl, though she had -not disdained the help of terrestrial science, knew things about the -Fyhonese flora and its properties that no terrestrial even suspected. -Still, the ordeal had been bad enough.) Ericson shifted his position -and sighed. - -Mnathl had cured him of _byhror_ addiction. In return, he had hated -her. There had been weeks, he remembered, when his brain had held -nothing but horrible pain and the wish to kill Mnathl. Once, when she -had untied him for exercise, he had shammed sleep until she came close -to him; then he had caught her by the throat. He had come close to -killing her then. And no doubt in those long, maniacal days there had -been other times. - -Ericson raised himself on one elbow and looked at her. She was pouring -water into a clay pot above the small, workman-like fire she had built, -and was putting in bits of chopped _bosula_ meat. Her greenish skin, -the skin of a native of the South Polar continent, glittered slightly -as she moved. "Mnathl ..." he said. - -She turned toward him quickly, but did not speak. "Mnathl, I'm sorry I -tried to ... hurt you on the island. I must have been pretty bad." - -Mnathl almost smiled. "No matter," she said. "Pretty soon, soup." - - * * * * * - -The incident seemed to be closed. Ericson lay back in the shade again -and watched the movements of the cloudscape across the deep turquoise -of the sky. His eyes felt as fresh as Adam's. The trees were green -with the greenness of living emeralds, and the sun had an ardor and a -richness like no sun he had ever known before. - -Winds blew with caressive, sweet-smelling tendrils over his face, and -from the warm soil beneath him he could almost feel strength soaking up -again into his body cells. He had visited several planets since he had -first left earth; he had loved none of them as he did Fyhon. Fyhon.... - -Arnaldo, the chunky little head of the paleo-biology department of -Penhairn University, had told him once that terrestrials loved Fyhon so -because conditions on that planet were like those on Terra during the -part of the Cenozoic when man was beginning to become man. Fyhon, he -said, appealed to some deep-seated memory in humanity of what a planet -ought to be. - -Ericson had laughed at him. He was new to Fyhon then, with a temporary -appointment as ethnographer to the South Polar Ethnographic Commission. -Racial memory had seemed to him as out-moded a concept as spontaneous -generation. But his temporary appointment had been extended once, -and then once again, and by the end of the second period he had been -wildly, hopelessly in love with Fyhon. He had hoped to get a permanent -appointment, had hoped to stay on Fyhon for the rest of his life. - -Ericson sighed again. After a while he raised one hand above his head -and looked at it. He could see the bones and the joints of the bones -and the movements of the sinews under the pale gold skin. The marks of -Mnathl's hypodermic needle were faintly red. He ran his fingers down -his body, surprised at the largeness and hardness of the rib cage, and -the prominence of the sockets of his hips. His body felt attenuated -and worn. But it was his body, no longer the property of _byhror_ and -the _byhror_ emptiness. He held up his hand once more and looked at it -against the light. He was beginning to realize that he was alive. - -He drifted off into sleep. When he woke, Mnathl was holding out a -steaming bowl to him. "Soup?" she said. - - * * * * * - -They stayed for some eight days in the coppice, while Ericson knotted -his memories together. _Byhror_ and the need for it were sinking back -with the passage of each successive day into the status of things -unalterably in the past. Mnathl set snares and hunted--she would not -allow him to move a hand--and Ericson watched her almost incuriously. -He felt a little more conscious every hour how good it was to be alive. - -On the ninth day Mnathl poured water on the cooking fire. She nested -the cooking pots together, slung them deftly over her shoulder, and -contrived a belt of twisted vines for her hunting knife. "Go now," she -announced. - -Ericson got up obediently. "Are we going back to Penhairn?" he asked. - -The corners of Mnathl's mouth twitched. "No," she said. "Way on up. On -in. In Dridihad." She pointed with her thumb. - -Ericson stared at her. "Dridihad?" he said. He'd heard the name before. -It was ... now wait ... yes, it was the name the natives applied to the -heart of the almost unknown South Polar Minor continent. "I can't go -there. I've got to go back to Penhairn, now that I'm well. I've three -years of _byhror_ addiction to make up." - -Mnathl's eyes narrowed. "Dridihad," she repeated stubbornly. - -"But.... Listen, Mnathl, I'm terribly grateful to you for what you've -done for me. I never can thank you enough. But I couldn't go to -Dridihad now, wherever it is. I'd need equipment--cameras, notebooks, -guns, a tent. Right now I've got to go back to Penhairn, see about -getting a job." - -"All sorts of things to see," Mnathl said. She edged up to him. "You -like. You like good." There was a prick in his arm. Mnathl had made -other things in her cooking pots the last few days beside soup. - -Ericson felt a peculiar glassy lethargy creeping over him. The -sensation was not entirely unpleasant. It was as if he looked at his -limbs and his body through a sheet of perfectly transparent crystal. He -could see his actions and his movements with absolute clarity, but he -had nothing to do with them. - -"You like see Dridihad," Mnathl said. "All sorts of things for -eth--ethnog--for man like you to look at. Come on. You like good." She -started along a shadowy, green-roofed trail. - -While Ericson watched with resentful detachment, his body began -obediently to follow her. Speech as well as volition had deserted him, -and all he could do was to move silently in her steps. - -As mile succeeded silent mile, memory and common sense came to his -aid. There had been a time, nearly three years ago, when he had set -out to explore the periphery of the minor polar continent by himself. -His temporary appointment had expired, and he had been moving heaven -and earth to get it made permanent. The one-man expedition had been a -part of the general heaven-and-earth moving process; it had occurred -to him that the Ethnographic Commission might be inclined to view his -application more favorably if he could offer the Commission a piece of -original ethnographic research, such as a report on the natives in the -periphery would be. - -His attempt had been a miserable failure; indeed, he owed his former -_byhror_ addiction to it. His supplies had been eaten by animals, he -had poisoned himself with tainted _chornis_ liver, fever had attacked -him. In his fits of feverish delirium he had thrown away nearly -everything, even his hunting knife. In order to get back to Penhairn at -all he had had to resort to chewing the leaves of the _byhror_ plant. -The leaves contain a remarkable stimulant; Ericson had been able to get -his fever-racked body back to civilization alive. But it had been at -the cost of slavish addiction to the drug. - -And now Mnathl--bless her greenish skin and queer flat eyes--was -offering him a journey to the mysterious heart of the minor polar -continent. Offering it to him on a silver platter. A piece of original -ethnographic research. He had been ungrateful and a fool. "You like -good," she had said. Well, she ought to know. - -The effects of the drug she had pricked his arm with must be wearing -off. Ericson found he could smile. "Why are we going to Dridihad, -Mnathl?" he asked a little later. - -Mnathl shook her sleek green head without even turning around to him. -"No," she said. - - * * * * * - -The trip in to Dridihad was a seduction, an enchantment, a bliss. -Ericson's strength came flooding back to him. His sick pallor was -turning to rich gold. On the second day he whittled, under Mnathl's -guidance, a spear and a throwing-stick for it, and on the third and -fourth she taught him to set snares and kindle fires with a sliver -of _onchian_. The country grew wilder and more beautiful, the trees -taller, the sky a deeper blue, the waterfalls more loud. He tried to -question the girl, but she never answered anything except "No", and -after a little, in his happiness, he gave up asking questions. - -What did it matter, after all? He was learning from day to day secrets -that any geographer or ethnographer would have given the best years -of his life to learn; the piece of original ethnographic research was -becoming a reality; and who, except a fool, questions someone who has -not only restored him to life but is giving him his heart's desire? - -On the eighteenth day, when Ericson's body had filled out and been -turned to a living gold by the sun, they came across the pyramid. It -stood in a swale with purple flowers growing around it and a small -river flowing around one side, and it was so tall that Ericson, looking -dizzily up, swore he saw clouds floating around its top. He wanted -to stay and look at it, to record it in his mind, but Mnathl was not -impressed. She let him have two hours, and then she urged him on. - -"But who built it, Mnathl?" he demanded when he had been pulled -reluctantly away. "How did it get here?" - -Mnathl seemed to be debating whether to answer him. He could never -decide whether she was naturally taciturn, or whether she really -grudged telling him things. "My people built it," she said at last. -"Deidrithes. Long time ago. _Long_ time ago." She motioned vaguely with -her hand. - -Something in the gesture made Ericson see with sudden clarity how deep -the abysm of the past, even on this young world with the ardent sun, -really was. Fyhon was young; but the Deidrithes had been living on -Fyhon a long time. - -Two days later Ericson, contrary to their usual custom, was in the -lead, breaking trail. Mnathl caught him suddenly around the waist and -pulled him back, but she was not quick enough. The huge, thick-bodied -snake with the red bandings lashed out at him and just fell short. But -one glistening fang grazed his foot. - -[Illustration: _She pushed him back, but not quickly enough._] - -Mnathl, bleached by fear to the color of an inferior grade of jade, -killed the snake with a stone. Then she made Ericson sit down on the -grass, and slashed at his foot with her hunting knife. - -"What is it, Mnathl?" Ericson asked. The wound was not especially -painful, but his heart had already begun to beat slowly and wearily, -as if beating were a burden almost beyond its strength, and at the same -time it seemed to have grown until it threatened to burst his chest. - -"_Outis_," Mnathl answered briefly. She hesitated for a moment. "Bad," -she said, as if to herself. "Very bad. Could kill me too." Then she -leaned over and set her lips to the bleeding gash her knife had made. - -Ericson tried to draw away from her. He was so dizzy that he could -hardly see. "No," he croaked, "don't. You mustn't suck it, Mnathl. I -don't want you to risk your life." - -The green-skinned girl shrugged. "No matter," she answered. "Will do. -O.K." - -Ericson tried to push her from him, but he was too weak. The world was -receding from him in black waves. She sucked blood and poison from the -wound, spat, sucked, spat, and sucked again. - -He would have liked to protest, to thank her for her sacrifice, but he -had no time. His pulse had begun to flutter feebly, and he fainted. - - * * * * * - -For the next several days he was in a stupor most of the time. Whenever -he came back to consciousness, he saw Mnathl lying exhausted in the -grass near him, and he knew without being told that the poison she had -sucked from his wound was moving sluggishly and with slow malignity -through her veins. Nevertheless, the wound on his foot was always -cleanly dressed and plastered with fresh herbs, and from time to time -she opened it with her knife and let the pus escape. - -When they were finally on the road to Dridihad again, he tried to thank -her for what she had done. - -"Anything I can do for you, Mnathl," he wound up with some -embarrassment (it is difficult to thank someone who refuses to look at -you), "anything I can do for you, why, you let me know. I could have -died there, without ever getting my permanent appointment or seeing -Dridihad. We're friends, aren't we, Mnathl? Friends." He took her hand. - -Mnathl nodded curtly. "O.K.," she said. She pulled her fingers from -his. The Deidrithes, Ericson thought not for the first time, were an -impassive, unemotional folk. - -It took them nearly a month more to get to Dridihad. On the way -they had to ford two swollen rivers and beat off the attack of a -must-maddened bull _rhodops_. Neither of these incidents had any -consequences. On the sixty-sixth day after their departure from Lake -Tanais, they came to the foot of Dridihad. - -For a week or so the ground had been rising steadily and the air -growing crisp and thin. They had labored uphill, uphill. Dridihad -itself, built on a high plateau, had been visible for three days before -they reached it, a silhouette, faintly pinkish, against the clouds. -When they had first caught sight of it, Ericson had felt an almost -painful anticipation seize him, and even Mnathl, usually so impassive, -had shown, in her glowing face and quickened breathing, how excited she -was. - -The ascent to the plateau itself, along a path so precipitous that -Ericson was always having to clutch it with hands as well as feet, was -so toilsome that fatigue had dimmed his curiosity a little when they -arrived at the top. Earlier that day Mnathl had thrown the cooking -pots and the knife contemptuously over the side of the cliff, and now, -cupping her hands around her lips and standing almost arrogantly erect, -she strode up to the rosy-red, eroded battlements. - -"Klarete laoi!" she called. "Laoi, klarete!" So far as Ericson could -see, no one at all was listening. But after a moment the massy doors of -the gate began to open outward, ponderously, in the twilight. They went -in. - -Dridihad, Ericson saw at first glance, was much larger and more -populous than he had supposed from below. The low, stepped buildings, -all made of the rose-pink stone, seemed to stretch out for mile upon -mile, as far as he could see. They made upon him an impression of -antiquity so strong that it was almost disturbing. The small greenish -people like Mnathl were everywhere. In dots, trickles and rivulets they -were pouring out into the streets. - -Mnathl's eyes fell on a man near her. She spoke to him. Instantly he -bowed profoundly before her, and made a second, shallower obeisance to -Ericson. - -"Go with him," Mnathl said, turning to the ethnographer. "Sleep in his -house." Obediently, Ericson followed his guide. When he looked around -toward Mnathl, she had already disappeared. - -The man (his name seemed to be Boator) took Ericson to an airy suite -of rooms on the top floor of one of the biggest of the houses of red -stone. Attendants waited on him with food and drink and water for -bathing. They took away his dirt-encrusted, ragged clothing and brought -him a heavy greenish robe. After Ericson had bathed and put it on, he -inspected himself in the sheet of polished metal that served for a -looking glass and decided that the color of the fabric made his curling -beard and fair skin look as if they had been cast from yellow gold. - -He was tired, but far too excited to rest. - -The chief thing, the indubitable, the incredible thing, was that there -was a very old, a very populous city, a city whose existence no one had -even suspected, in the heart of the South Polar Minor continent. It was -news to inflame an ethnographer to the point of hysteria. When Ericson -got back to Penhairn with his report, it was going to revolutionize -their whole concept of Fyhonese history; one would hardly exaggerate -to say that it would be epoch-making news. No doubt there would be a -period when they'd consider him the biggest liar since Marco Polo. But -after the first skepticism wore off he'd have a permanent ethnographic -appointment almost forced upon him. His report would shake established -reputations, found new schools, would--oh, if he only had something to -write on! - -When the attendant came in again, Ericson made motions of writing in -the palm of his hand, but the man's face remained blank. And when he -asked for Mnathl the attendant merely shook his head and went out. - -For want of anything better the young man hung out of the window -watching the smoky flicker of lights in the city around him. It was not -until the last one had gone out that he went, reluctantly, to bed. - - * * * * * - -Next morning, immediately after breakfast, Mnathl came to visit -him. He hardly knew her at first. The scanty garments she had worn -unconcernedly on their journey to Dridihad had been replaced by the -stiff, hieratic folds of a dull purple robe embroidered in blue. On -her head there was a silvery crown of antique workmanship, set with -luminous purple stones, and she moved with the conscious dignity of a -princess or a priest. - -Her manner toward him, too, had changed. She smiled faintly when she -first saw him, and everything about her seemed freer than Ericson had -seen it before. She was animated, almost vivacious. - -He asked her for something to write with. "No," she answered, still -with that faint smile, "no use. Hunt now." - -They left Boator's house by a side door (to avoid the crowd that would -appear at once if they were glimpsed in the streets, Ericson surmised) -and entered a small, walled court. There four improbably striped -animals, about the size of small ponies, were waiting for them. Ericson -mounted one of them, and Mnathl, tucking up her skirts, bestrode -another. With two attendants they rode circuitously through Dridihad -and out into the high plain. - -The variety and abundance of game were amazing. There seemed to be more -animals than there were trees, and they came in all sizes, shapes, -colors, and coats. There was even a big blue-hued thing that reminded -the young man a little of a kangaroo. He enjoyed himself, but he could -not help wishing that he knew more about Fyhonese zoology than he -did--to appreciate all those properly. - -They got back to the city just before dark. Ericson ate, and then -Mnathl took him to the temple. It was the tallest building in Dridihad, -a stepped pyramid of unusually reddish stone, and Ericson was to grow -fond, later, of the view from its flat top. The naos itself, however, -was a small room skimpily scooped out of one side of the pyramid, and -it was very badly lighted. Ericson, who had resolved, in default of -paper to write on, to impress all he saw and heard irremovably upon his -mind, had to strain his eyes to see anything. - -Mnathl officiated. His first feeling that she was a priestess seemed -to be correct. As to the ritual itself, it was highly impressive, -especially when one considered that he did not know the language in -which it was going on. It ended with the sacrifice of an animal like -a _bosula_; while two attendants held it, Mnathl cut its throat, -caught the blood in a cup, and poured it on the altar fire. Then she -roasted pieces of the meat over the coals and dealt them out among -the celebrants of the ceremony, partaking first herself. None of -the collops was offered to Ericson; but, then, he could hardly be -considered a communicant of the religion of the Deidrithes, whatever it -was. - -As the days passed, a possible explanation of Mnathl's treatment of -him began to come to Ericson. He was not a conceited man, or it might -have occurred to him earlier. And it bothered him to think that she was -attracted to him, whereas he had never found her attractive in any way. -Still, what other hypothesis would account for the facts? - -They were together almost constantly and, except for the attendants -who were always armed with heavy axes, always alone. She hunted with -him, showed him the city, rode with him; she even taught him to play -a rather childish game, something like the Sicilian Mora, which she -always beat him at. Day after day she took him with her to witness -religious rites which were obviously of the most hallowed character. -Ericson had the impression that the rites were leading, in a series of -slight graduations, up to some supreme event! and he tried to note and -remember everything. - - * * * * * - -The climax came suddenly. One lovely evening, just as the full moon was -rising, Mnathl took him with her up the steep sides to the top of the -pyramid. The two attendants hovered discreetly in the background. For -all practical purposes, he and the girl were alone. - -Mnathl looked at him. There was a glint, warm, glowing, and facile, in -her eyes that he had never seen there before. There was a short but -rather embarrassing silence. At last Ericson, feeling like a boor and -a churl, took her hand. - -"Mnathl," he said, "I'm so grateful to you. You've done so much for me, -helped me so much. You ... mean a lot to me, Mnathl." That, at least, -was true. - -Mnathl pulled her fingers away and regarded him. "What you mean?" she -asked blankly. "What you mean?" - -"That you ... that I ..." he stopped, too embarrassed to go on. - -Mnathl threw back her head and laughed. It was the first time he had -ever heard the sound from her, and there was something strange in it. -She motioned to the axmen with her hand. - -"Not like, not hate," she said blandly. "Let you see, let you hear, so -you tell Them all that Deidrithes do. You our messenger. Then we eat." - -Then we eat.... For a moment the words echoed meaninglessly in -Ericson's mind. The axmen were forcing him to his knees near a -depression in the center of the pyramid. "But why ..." he said. - -"We hear about you the first time you try trip," Mnathl said. -"Everybody know. No other men your color in Fyhon." - -His color. Ericson began to understand. Mnathl's devotion, her -self-sacrificing tenacity, her long kindness to him, everything--had -all been nothing but the prelude to a ritual meal in which his rare -blonde body was to be the chief support. No doubt a man of his color -would be an especially choice offering to the gods. The gleam he had -seen in Mnathl's eyes had been not love, but a kind of religious -gluttony. - -He began to laugh. Irony had always appealed to him; and besides he was -remembering a sentence in the Ethnographic Commission's preliminary -survey: "There is no doubt that ritual cannibalism is unknown among the -natives of Fyhon." - -"O.K., Mnathl," he said, recalling what he had been saved from, what he -had seen and learned. "I'm ahead, no matter how you look at it. It's -O.K." - -He was still smiling when the axman on the right struck and Ericson's -severed head went rolling along the surface of the pyramid. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Garden of Evil, by Margaret St. Clair - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GARDEN OF EVIL *** - -***** This file should be named 63847.txt or 63847.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/4/63847/ - -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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