The Totems of Abydos

CHAPTER 17





“Apparently something called the Festival of the Harvesting of Seed is to take place shortly,” said Rodriguez.

“It is fall,” said Brenner. “That makes sense, to gather in seed for the planting in the spring.”

They were standing in the clearing, in the center of the village. In this clearing, on a table, in a small, open-sided shelter, its thatched roof supported by four pillars, was a tiny, wire-barred cage, presumably obtained in trade from Company Station. In this cage was a tiny, gray git, not the one which had been captured in the forest, which had been released after the ceremony, with elaborate apologies, but another.

“Greetings, little fellow,” said Brenner to the git.

It was large for a git. It crouched on one side of the cage, on some crumbled leaves. Its fur was oily. Its eyes were like bright spots.

Brenner tapped the cage, a little.

“Do not put your finger too close to it,” said Rodriguez. “They are wild.”

“It should be fed by now,” said Brenner.

“There are many varieties of totemism,” said Rodriguez, looking down at the git. “Even the concept of the totem animal is interesting, and varies from group to group. I assume the Pons are typical, but it is difficult to get clear on the matter. Certainly the totem animal is seldom identified with a particular animal, which might die or be killed. But, too, it is seldom understood as a species of animal, at least in the scientific sense. It is too real for that. The concept seems to be primitive, substantial, and mystical. It is alien to civilized understanding. The totem is an individual, and alive, as alive as that git, but it is somehow present in many places. It is one in many, so to speak. It lives in many houses. It is neither, say, the git as a species nor that git alone. It is more than both, and beyond both. It sees through both.”

The tiny animal in the cage lifted its head, and those tiny, bright eyes regarded Brenner.

“Let us return to the hut,” said Brenner.

“The keeper should be along soon,” said Rodriguez.

“Let us return to the hut,” said Brenner.

But Rodriguez was looking down, at the git.

“Totemism is an insanity,” said Brenner, suddenly, angrily.

“It is too widespread for that, in too many cultures, on too many worlds,” said Rodriguez.

“We have been here for weeks,” said Brenner. “We know little more about the Pons now than we did when we first came through the gate.”

“We have gathered a great deal of data,” said Rodriguez.

“But it does not fit together,” said Brenner. “There is no unity in it, no sense, no meaning.”

“There is a meaning in it,” said Rodriguez. “It is only that we have not yet detected it.”

“There is something about these little beasts which frightens me,” said Brenner.

“The Pons?” asked Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“What?” asked Rodriguez.

“I do not know,” said Brenner. “They are too simple, too kindly, too inoffensive, too innocent, too good.”

“You should be pleased,” said Rodriguez. “They confirm all the theories which are so important to you.”

Brenner was silent. The git seemed to be looking at him.

“They are the beginning,” said Rodriguez. “They are the proof you have always desired, that the rational races did not begin in crime, that they did not emerge bloodily from the wars of nature in virtue of an uncompromising and superior ruthlessness, that they did not survive, and surpass, their competition in virtue of a more tenacious will and greater savagery, that their success is not to be attributed to the darkness of a heart which, in pride and mercilessness, will proclaim itself chieftain and king. The club, you see, is for pounding grain. It is not a heavier, crueler paw. The knife is for the gathering of fruit. It is not a more efficient fang.”

“Do you believe these things?” asked Brenner.

“It seems I must,” said Rodriguez.

“I am not at ease with the Pons,” said Brenner.

“You could not ask for a more harmless form of life,” said Rodriguez.

“I am not sure what it is,” said Brenner. “Something about them seems familiar. It is almost as if I knew them, as if I had been here before.”

“But you have not been,” said Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner.

“Presumably what you sense are affinities,” said Rodriguez. “They exist amongst many species, of diverse sorts. Such affinities make comparative studies possible, and occasionally illuminating. Indeed, it is precisely because of such hypothetical affinities that we have come to Abydos. Naturally they might be occasionally sensed, particularly by a sensitive individual, as a bit eerie, or familiar. Indeed, is it not hoped that the Pons will constitute a lens of sorts, with which to look back, into the past of our own species?”

“We have been sent here, and informed of as much, in so many words,” said Brenner, recalling the directress, “to confirm current political theories.”

“And it appears we will do so, honestly,” said Rodriguez. “It does not even seem that we must keep two sets of notebooks, one to be reviewed by the directress and her superiors, in which the data is faked for publication, the other in which the truth is concealed, for those trusted to understand it.”

“I am afraid here,” said Brenner.

“Do not fear the Pons,” said Rodriguez. “They are simple, they are stupid. They do not even have names.”

“There is much here that I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“There is much here which I do not understand either,” said Rodriguez.

“Where are the children?” asked Brenner. “Where are the other totems, the other clans?”

“I do not know,” said Rodriguez.

“How can these things live in the forests?” asked Brenner. “How is it that they can survive here?”

“The totem protects them,” said Rodriguez.

“Of course,” said Brenner.

The git was looking up at Brenner, with its small, round, shiny eyes.

“Perhaps the forests are not as dangerous as is alleged,” said Brenner.

“Perhaps,” said Rodriguez.

“I think the keeper wishes to feed the git,” said Brenner, looking to one side. The keeper of the git, in his smocklike robe, was now waiting, a few yards to the right. Under the scrutiny of Brenner and Rodriguez he turned about.

“He is a polite fellow,” said Rodriguez.

The Pons would seldom meet one’s eyes directly.

In many cultures direct eye contact is regarded as a sign of openness, of honesty. In many others, of course, it is regarded as impolite, or obtrusive, and may even be interpreted as a sign of hostility.

Brenner and Rodriguez then withdrew from the small, open-sided, roofed structure, returning to their hut.

It was near noon.