"I heard," said the mother quietly. The last thing Sim saw of his living parents was his mother weakly, swayingly, slowly moving across the floor to lie beside her silent husband. That was the last time he ever saw them move. IV The night came and passed and then started the second day. The bodies of all those who had died during the night were carried in a funeral procession to the top of a small hill. The procession was long, the bodies numerous. Dark walked in the procession, holding the newly walking Sim by one hand. Only an hour before dawn Sim had learned to walk. At the top of the hill, Sim saw once again the far off metal seed. Nobody ever looked at it, or spoke of it. Why? Was there some reason? Was it a mirage? Why did they not run toward it? Worship it? Try to get to it and fly away into space? The funeral words were spoken. The bodies were placed upon the ground where the sun, in a few minutes, would cremate them. The procession then turned and ran down the hill, eager to have their few minutes of free time running and playing and laughing in the sweet air. Dark and Sim, chattering like birds, feeding among the rocks, exchanged what they knew of life. He was in his second day, she in her third. They were driven, as always, by the mercurial speed of their lives. Another piece of his life opened wide. Fifty young men ran down from the cliffs, holding sharp stones and rock daggers in their thick hands. Shouting, they ran off toward distant black, low lines of small rock cliffs. "War!" The thought stood in Sim's brain. It shocked and beat at him. These men were running to fight, to kill, over there in those small black cliffs where other people lived. But why? Wasn't life short enough without fighting, killing? From a great distance he heard the sound of conflict, and it made his stomach cold. "Why, Dark, why?" Dark didn't know. Perhaps they would understand tomorrow. Now, there was the business of eating to sustain and support their lives. Watching Dark was like seeing a lizard
Prev.
Back
Top