Blind Lightning
by Harlan Ellison
When Kettridge bent over to pick up the scurrying red lizard, the thing that had been waiting in shadows struck.
The thing rose nine feet on its powerfully muscled legs. It had an iridescent, glistening fur, and if resembled a gorilla and a Brahma bull and a Kodiak bear and a number of other Terran animals. But it was none of these creatures.
The comparison was as inaccurate and as brief as Kettridge’s last moment of horrified awareness. He saw one of the thing’s huge paws crashing down toward him. Then the brief moment ended, and Kettridge lay unconscious.
Thought: This is the prelude to the Time of Fast. In bulk this strangely formed one will equal many cat litters. It is warm and does not lose the Essence. When the Essence-Stealer screams from the heavens, the strangely formed one will be many feastings for me. Safety and assured Essence are mine.
O boon at last granted! To the Lord of the Heaven I turn all thought! Lad-nar’s Essence is yours at Ending!
The huge creature bent sharply from the waist and scooped up the man in the form-fitting metallic suit. It brushed in annoyance at the belt of tools around the human’s waist and looked over one massive shoulder at the sky.
Even as Lad-nar watched, the rolling dark clouds split, and a forked brilliance stabbed down at the jungle. Lad-nar squinted his eyes, unconsciously lowering the thin secondary lids, and filtering out the worst of the light.
He shivered as the roar screamed across the sky.
Off to his left another blast of lightning slanted down, striking a towering blue plant with a shower of sparks and a dazzling flash. A peal of thunder followed it. The jungle smoked.
Thought: Many risings and settings of the Great Warmer it has taken this Time of Fast to build. Now it will last for many more. The Great Warmer -will be hidden, and the cold will settle across the land. Lad-nar must find his way to the Place of Fasting. This strangely formed one will be many feastings.
He shoved the man under one furry arm, clasping his unconscious burden tightly. Lad-nar’s eyes were frightened. He knew the time of Death and Forbidden Walking was at hand.
He loped off toward the mountains.
The first thing Kettridge saw when he awoke was the head of the creature. It was hanging terrifyingly suspended by the light from the storm. The roar of the rain pelting down in driving sheets and the brilliant white of the lightning heightened the dreadfulness of the huge creature’s head. The wide, blunt nose had three flaring nostrils. The massive double-lidded eyes seemed to be lighted from within by fires which blazed up in them like flickering twin comets. It had a high, hairy brow, and there were black half-moons under its cheekbones.
It seemed to be snarling. Certainly its pointed teeth could not have been bared more maliciously.
Kettridge was a man past the high tide of youth. He was not a strong man. At the beast’s snort, he lost consciousness for the second time.
There followed a short stretch of half-slumber, confused, tormenting. Finally Kettridge blinked several times and raised himself on his elbows.
Lad-nar was still sitting with his powerfully muscled legs crossed—sitting just inside the mouth of the small cave regarding Kettridge steadily.
“What—what are you?” Kettridge groaned. “We weren’t expecting anything so large. The survey said…” Kettridge’s voice quavered into silence.
Thought: What is this? The strangely formed one speaks in my head! He is not one with the cat litters. They cannot speak! Is he a symbol, an omen—from the Lord of the Heaven?
What is it you ask, strangely formed one?
Kettridge felt the surge of thoughts in his mind. He felt it smash against one nerve after another, sliding down in his head as the questions reverberated like an echo from far away.
My God, the thing is telepathic!… “You’re telepathic!” he murmured, hardly daring to believe it could be true.
Thought: What does he mean? What do you bring to me, strangely formed one? What is it that you say to me and that I hear as a Reading of the Essence? How do you speak? Are you from the Lord of the Heaven?
Lad-nar’s thick, leathery lips had not moved. The fanged mouth had not even twisted in speech. But to Kettridge it seemed that there must be a third being in the cave. A speaker who roared in his mind, in a voice sharp and alert.
Thought: There is no one else here. This is the Place of Fasting. Lad-nar has cleansed it of all previous Fasting Ones. You do not answer. There is fear blended into your Essence, as it has always been with the cat litters. Yet you are not one with them. Speak! Are you an omen ?
Kettridge’s lips began to tremble. He stared up in awe at the startlingly bright, double-lidded eyes, suddenly realizing that the creature was more than telepathic. It was two-way receptive. It could not only direct thoughts into Kettridge’s mind. It could just as easily pluck the ideas from his reeling brain.
“I—I am from earth,” whispered Kettridge, sliding up against the warm stone wall _of the cave.
Thought: The Heaven Home! I might have known. The Lord of the Heaven has sent you to me as many feastings.
In the space of a few short seconds, as Lad-nar spoke deep in his mind, Kettridge received a complete mental picture of the being’s incredible life. He had known there were living creatures on Blestone—many animal oddities in a barbaric hiding state. But the preliminary survey had not prepared him for any life of so complex a nature. Obviously Lad-nar’s race was dying off.
Kettridge tried to blank out his thoughts but was terrifyingly unsuccessful.
Thought: You cannot hide the speaking in my head.
Kettridge became frantic. He knew exactly what the thing planned to do. He had received a cold mental image of the creature crouched mercilessly above him, ripping his right arm loose from its socket with a cruel purposefulness. The picture was hideously clear.
Thought: You have seen the feasting. Yet you are not like • the cat litters that squeal in fear every moment that I feast on them. If you are not to eat, an omen from the Heaven Lord—what are you ?
Kettridge felt his throat muscles tighten. His hands inside the heat-resistance gloves clenched. He felt his age settle around him like a heavy mantle.
“I’m an alien ecologist,” he said, knowing he would not be understood.
Thought: That has no meaning for me.
“I’m from Earth. I’m from one of the other—” He stopped, drawing in his breath quickly and pulling the resilient hood of the suit against his mouth with an effort. The being could not possibly know about the other planets. It could not see a single one of the stars. Only occasionally could it see the sun. The dense cloud blanket of Blestone hid space forever from its gaze.
Thought: Urth! The Heaven Home! I knew! I knew !
There was a jubilation, a soaring happiness in the thought—an emotion at once incongruous and terrifying. But blending with it was a humanness, a strange warmth.
Thought: Now I will sleep. Later I will feast.
With the single-minded simplicity of the aborigine, the creature put from its mind this revelation of its religion and obeyed the commands of its body. Tired from hunting, Lad-nar began to sleep.
The thoughts dimmed and faded out of Kettridge’s mind like dwindling smoke wraiths as the huge creature slipped over onto its side and sprawled out in the gloom, completely blocking the open mouth of the cave.
Kettridge’s hand closed over the service revolver at his belt. It was reassuring to realize that the charges in the weapon were powerful enough to stop a good-sized animal.