Free World without Stars by Poul Anderson Page B

tonight
     had the Ai Chun not commanded.”
    So, I thought, the God of the Azkashi was some kind of demon to the Niao. Just as the Niao’s venerated Ai Chun were the downdevils
     of the Pack …
    Gianyi made haste to take us below. The hull, like everything else, was well built. No metal anywhere, of course; ribs and
     planks were glued, then clinched with wooden pegs. Construction must have been a major job. Gianyi admitted there was just
     this one ship on the lake; otherwise only canoes were needed, to fish and to keep the savages in their place. But whole fleets
     plied the oceans, he said. I was prepared to believe him after he showed me some very fine objects, ceramic and plastic as
     well as polished stone.
    The crew intrigued me most. The rowers worked in several shifts on a well ventilated, lantern-lit deck. They were all of a
     kind, with short legs, grotesquely big arms and shoulders, mere stumps of tail. Some fighters were on board too, like the
     colossus I had already seen. To our questions, Gianyi replied that other types of Niao existed, such as divers and paddy workers.
     He himself belonged to the intellectual stock.
    “You may only breed within your own sort?” I asked.
    “There is no law needed,” Gianyi said. “Who would wish to mate with one so different, or keep alive a young which was not
     a good specimen? Unless, of course, the Ai Chun command it. They sometimes desire hybrids. But that is for the good of all
     the Niao.”
    When I had unraveled that this was what he had actually said, and explained to Rorn, my companion reflected in our own tongue:
     “‘The system appears to operate smoothly. But that has to be because hundreds, thousands of generations of selective breeding
     lie behind it. Who enforced that, in the early days?” I saw him shudder. “And how?”
    I had no reply. There are races with so much instinct of communality that eugenics is ancient in their cultures. But it’s
     never worked long enough at a time for others, like the human race, to be significant. You get too much individual rebellion;
     eventually some of the rebels get power to modify the setup, or wreck it.
    So perhaps the autochthones of this planet did not have human-type minds after all?
    No—because then how did you account for the Azkashi?
    In spite of the temperature, we felt cold. And belowdecks was a cavern, full of glooms, lit by no more than a rare flickering
     lamp. We excused ourselves and returned to our little room. It had only one sconce, but we stuck spare candles in their wax
     around us.
    Rorn sat down on his bedroll, knees hugged to chin, and stared at me where I stood. “I don’t like this,” he said.
    “The situation’s peculiar,” I agreed, “but not necessarily sinister. Remember, the Yonderfolk suggested we might base ourselves
     here.”
    “They supposed we’d arrive with full equipment. Instead, we’re helpless.”
    I regarded him closely. He was shivering. And he had been so competent hitherto. “Don’t panic,” I warned him. “Remember,the worst thing that can happen to us is no more than death.”
    “I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking and—well, consider. The Ai Chun, whoever they are, haven’t much physical technology, for
     lack of metal. But they’ve gone far in biology and mentalistics. Consider their routine use of telepathy, which to this day
     is too unreliable for humans. Consider how they could regulate the Niao, generation after generation, until submissiveness
     was built into the chromosomes. Could they do the same to us?”
    “A foul notion.” I wet my lips. “But we have to take our chances.”
    “Harder for me than you.”
    “How so?”
    He looked up. His features were drawn tight. “I’ll tell you. I don’t want to, but you’ve got to understand I’m not a coward.
     It’s only that I know how terrible interference with the mind can be, and you don’t.”
    I sat down beside him and waited. He drew a breath and said, fast and flat, eyes