Hal found it hard to look away from her, but he turned his gaze on the face of the gray-haired man. He found himself looking into a rectangular, raw-boned set of features, clothed in skin gone leathery some years since from sun and weather. Lines radiated from the corners of the eyes of James Child-of-God, deep parentheses had carved themselves about his mouth from nose to chin, and the pale blue eyes he fastened on Hal were like the muzzles of armed rifles.
"If not of the faith," he said now, in a flat tenor voice, "he hath no right here among us."
Since he had left his home, Hal had until this moment encountered no Friendly cast in the mold he knew, the mold of Obadiah. Now, he recognized one at last. But this man was Obadiah with a difference.
Chapter Sixteen
There was a moment of silence. The soft fingers of the breeze came through the trees across the stream, quartering past Rukh Tamani and James Child-of-God, and cooled Hal's left cheek as he stood, still facing them.
"He's not of that special faith that's ours," said Jason. "But he's a hunted enemy of the Belial-spawn and that makes him our ally."
Rukh looked at him.
"And you?"
"I've worked for the faith, these past eight years," Jason said. "I was one of the warriors in Charity City, even when I was going to college. Columbine and Oliver McKeutcheon both had me in their Commands at different times - "
He turned to nod at Hilary.
"Hilary knows about this. He knows me."
"He's right," said Hilary. "About all he says. I've known him five years or more."
"But you don't know this other," said James Child-of-God.
"He said he was a miner on Coby," said Hilary. "I've shaken hands with him and felt his calluses. He has them where a miner gets them, holding his torch; and the only place on the fourteen worlds they still use torches are in those mines."
"He could be a spy." The voice of James Child-of-God had the flat emotionlessness of someone commenting on statistics.
"He isn't." Jason turned to Rukh Tamani. "Can I talk to you privately about him?"
She looked at him.
"You can talk to us both privately," she said. "Come along, James."
She turned away. James Child-of-God got to his feet, still carrying the cone rifle, and, with Jason, followed her to the edge of the clearing. They stopped there, and stood together, talking.
Hal waited. His eyes met Hilary's briefly; and Hilary gave him the ghost of a smile, which could have been intended as reassurance. Hal smiled back and looked away again.
He was conscious of his old, familiar feeling of nakedness and loneliness. It had come back upon him, as keenly as the sensation of someone thinly dressed stepping into the breath of a chill and strong wind. At the same time, the touch of the actual breeze upon him, the scent of the open air - were all acting powerfully upon his feelings. That part of him that had always lived in and by poetry had come suddenly to life again after having slept these last years in the mine; and everything that in this moment was impinging on his mind and senses was registering itself with a sharpness he had not felt since the deaths of Walter, Obadiah and Malachi. Now, all at once, it was once more with him; and he could not imagine how he had been living these past years without it…
Abruptly he woke to the fact that the conversation at the edge of the clearing had finished. Both Jason and James Child-of-God were walking back toward him. Rukh Tamani still stood alone where she had been, and she called to him, her voice carrying clearly across the distance between them.
"Come here, please."
He walked to her and stopped within arm's length.
"Jason Rowe's told us what he knows about you," she said. Her eyes were penetrating without hardness, brown with an infinity of depths to them. "He believes in you, but he could be wrong. There's nothing in what he told us that proves you aren't the spy that James is afraid you might be."
Hal nodded.
"Have you got any proof you aren't a spy, sent either by the Others or by the Militia to help them trap us?"
"No," he said.
"You understand," she said, "I can't risk my people, even to help someone who deserves help, if there's a danger. There's only one of you, but a number of us; and what we do is important."
"I know that too," he said.
They said nothing for a second.
"You don't ask our help, anyway?" she asked.
"There's no point to it, is there?" he said.
She studied him. Her face was like her eyes - unguarded, but showing no hint of what she was thinking. He found himself thinking how beautiful she was, standing here in the sunlight.
"For those of us who've taken up arms against the Others and their slaves," she said, "other proofs than paper ones can be meaningful. If that weren't so, we wouldn't be out here, fighting. But we not only don't know you or anything about you, but Jason says you refused to tell him who you really are. Is that right?"
"Yes," he said. "That's right."
Once more she watched him for a moment without speaking.
"Do you want to tell me - who you are and how you come to be here?" she said at last. "If you do, and I think what you tell me is true, we might be able to let you stay."
He hesitated. The first and most important principle of all those he had been taught, against the time when he might have to run as he had these last years, was to keep his identity secret. At the same time, something in him - and maybe it was the reawakened poetic response, was urging him strongly to stay in this place, with Rukh and these others, at any cost.
He remembered Obadiah.
"One of those who brought me up," he said, "was a man named Obadiah Testator, from Oldcontinent here on Harmony. He said once, talking about me - my people would never give you up. He was talking about people like you, not giving me up to the Others. Can I ask - would you give me up, once you'd accepted me? Can you think of any conditions under which you would?"
She gazed at him.
"You aren't really of Harmony or Association, are you?" she said.
"No," he answered. "Earth."
"I thought so. That's why you don't understand. There're those on both of our worlds here who might give you up to the Others; but we don't count them among us. God doesn't count them. Once you were accepted here, not even to save the lives of all the others would we give you up, any more than we'd give up any other member of this Command. I'm explaining this to you because you're not one of us; and it's not your fault you need said what shouldn't need to be. What use would it be - all the rest we do - if we were the kind who'd buy safety or victory at the price of even one soul?"
He nodded again, very slowly.
"This Obadiah Testator of yours," she said. "Was he a man strong in his faith?"
"Yes."
"And you knew him well?"
"Yes," said Hal; and after all these years suddenly felt his throat contract remembering Obadiah.
"Then you should understand what I'm saying."
He controlled the reflex in his throat and looked once more into her eyes. They were different than the eyes of Obadiah, but they were also the same. Nor would Obadiah have betrayed him.
"I'll tell you," he said, "if no one but you has to know."
"No one does," said Rukh. "If I'm satisfied, the rest will take my word for you."
"All right, then."
Standing there at the edge of the clearing, he told her everything, from as far back as he could remember, to this moment. When he came to the deaths of Obadiah, Walter and Malachi, his throat tightened again and for a moment he could not talk about it; then he got his voice under control and went on.
"Yes," she said, when he was done, "I see why you didn't want to talk about this. Why did your tutors think the Others would be so determined to destroy you if they knew of you?"