The Totems of Abydos

CHAPTER 21





“Get away from him!” screamed Brenner.

The two Pons near the conical cage, suspended from a tripod of saplings, startled, scurried back, the points of their sticks red.

The small female which Brenner had rescued on the cliffs began to howl.

“There is nothing you can do for him now,” said Rodriguez.

“It is eerie,” said Brenner.

“Seeing such things in another life form?” said Rodriguez.

“Yes,” whispered Brenner.

“Such things occur in many life forms,” said Rodriguez.

“It is like a hideous mockery, a grotesque travesty, of the cruelty of our own species,” said Brenner.

“The Pons are higher on the evolutionary scale than I realized,” said Rodriguez. “Only rational species cage and torture their own kind.”

“We were too late,” said Brenner.

“You came as fast as you could,” said Rodriguez. “He was probably dead hours ago.”

Brenner regarded the tiny, hairy, bloodied, naked form cramped within the bars of the suspended, conical cage. It must have been poked with sharpened sticks a great number of times. Its fur was a mass of bloody spots. Blood stained the bottom of the cage, and the lower bars. Too, below the cage, the dust was reddened, where blood had apparently run.

“Besides,” said Rodriguez, “it is perhaps better if we were too late.”

Brenner looked at him.

“We do not know what was going on here,” said Rodriguez. “This is a matter amongst the Pons. These things are their business. We should not interfere.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Brenner.

“What you might have been tempted to do might not have been in the best interest of the study.”

“The study is not important,” said Brenner.

“These are not members of our species,” said Rodriguez. “If you saw ten gits biting another to death would you thrust your hand amongst them?”

“Probably not,” said Brenner.

“If you saw ten monkeys attacking an eleventh would you feel obliged to rush amongst them?”

“These are not monkeys,” said Brenner.

“They are obviously a similar life form,” said Rodriguez.

“They are rational,” said Brenner.

“Subrational, or, at best, incipiently rational, or protorational,” said Rodriguez.

“Rational enough,” said Brenner. “Do they not cage and torture their own kind?”

“Even if so, you do not know the nature of their rationality,” said Rodriguez.

“Rationality is one,” said Brenner.

“That is highly unlikely,” said Rodriguez.

“I might have been able to prevent a murder,” said Brenner.

“You might have interfered with an execution,” said Rodriguez.

The tiny female was whimpering now, and rocking back and forth.

Brenner reached out, to touch her, in sympathy, but Rodriguez held back his arm. “Put your pity aside,” said Rodriguez. “Remember that it is only an animal. Too, it is agitated. It might bite.”

Brenner looked at him, angrily.

“You have already violated the distances,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner straightened up. Rodriguez was right, of course. The distances were doubtless to be respected. He did not wish to risk, either through ignorance or inadvertence, placing the small female in jeopardy. He had just learned, this afternoon, to his dismay, that the benignity of the Pons, exhibited even in such small matters as their respect for, and benevolence toward, insects, and such, need not be invariably extended, under all circumstances, to the members of their own species. This was not unprecedented, of course. Those who flew the banners of love were commonly the first to demand the destruction of those who disagreed with them. A thousand histories were stained with the blood of heretics. Too, in all honesty he doubted that his touch would much comfort the tiny, forlorn beast.

“Look,” whispered Rodriguez.

“The git keeper, with two other Pons, was approaching. They carried pointed sticks.

“Do not interfere,” Rodriguez cautioned him.

“I have already interfered,” said Brenner.

“More are coming,” said Rodriguez. They were mostly males. That could be told from the distances, if nothing else. Females hung about the edges of what was now becoming a circle. More than one male carefully approached, avoiding them.

“There must be fifty or sixty of them,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner took a step closer, a protective step, toward the tiny female a few feet in front of him.

“I will not let them hurt her,” said Brenner under his breath.

“Do not interfere,” said Rodriguez, softly, tensely.

“I will not let them hurt her,” said Brenner.

“You will ruin the study,” said Rodriguez.

“I will not let them hurt her,” said Brenner.

“It is an animal, a monkey,” said Rodriguez. “That is what they all are. Do not interfere.”

“They are not going to hurt her,” said Brenner, determinedly.

“Look,” said Rodriguez.

Some four Pons were now carrying forth three poles, with some rope. Two more, behind them, held a cage of saplings, tiny, and conical. They came through the males gathered about and tied the poles together at one end, and fastened the cage of saplings to it, by more rope. They then set the poles up, as a tripod, the cage dangling from it. It was set up at the proper distance from the other tripod and cage. One of the Pons then opened the door of the tiny cage, and gestured to the small female to come forward and enter it.

She looked around, wildly, at Brenner.

“Do not interfere,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner put out his hand. The tiny female hurried to him, and put her hand in his. Several of the Pons about, in particular those who had not been at the amphitheater, gasped. Their eyes widened in fear.

One of the Pons at the cage angrily gestured again toward the small opening.

“No,” said Brenner, firmly. “No.”

The Pons looked at one another. Rodriguez was pleased that they were so small.

“No,” repeated Brenner, in a kindly, but firm, voice.

“No?” said one of the Pons, puzzled.

“No,” said Brenner.

The git keeper, with his pointed stick held in two hands, lifted, the point toward the tiny female, took a step forward. Brenner, with an angry scowl, released the hand of the female and stood squarely between her and the git keeper.

The git keeper, his way barred by Brenner, who to him must surely have constituted a considerable, menacing obstacle, stopped.

“Touching!” cried one of the Pons shrilly, pointing to the crumpled form in the cage and then to the small female. “Touching! Touching!”

“They must have violated the distances,” said Rodriguez. “They may even have touched.”

It may be recalled that the two central tenets of totemism, its most fundamental doctrines, so to speak, have to do with the veneration of the totem animal and exogamy, that the females of the totem group are denied to the males of the same totem.

“It does not matter,” said Brenner.

“It is the violation of a taboo,” said Rodriguez. “That is serious here.”

“It does not matter,” said Brenner.

“The violation of a taboo must be punished by the group,” said Rodriguez. “If it is permitted for the taboo to be broken, the example will be contagious. Do you not understand? It is like condoning crime. It is like saying that the bonds of the community are unimportant. It is like saying everything is permitted. It is to threaten the foundations of society. It will produce moral anarchy. Chaos will ensue. There is a reason for these things, even if you do not know it, or they. They are afraid that a taboo should be violated. They fear that the violation of the taboo, the betrayal of the totem animal, and their pledge to it, the sundering of the pact with the totem, if not punished, will being disaster upon the group. They are afraid. Understand them.”

“There is nothing to fear,” said Brenner.

“They fear the vengeance of the totem,” said Rodriguez.

“The totem is a git,” said Brenner.

“They are afraid,” said Rodriguez.

“There is nothing to fear,” said Brenner.

“It is their perceptions which are important here,” said Rodriguez. “Not yours.”

“I will not let them harm her,” said Brenner. “No!” he said angrily to the git keeper, who had inched forward. The git keeper looked about, frightened, at the others. Two of the Pons began to wail. Some looked back to the palisade, and to the forest beyond, which seemed quiet and dark. Again Rodriguez was pleased that they were so small.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” said Brenner, softly, to the Pons about.

“You are threatening their way of life,” said Rodriguez. “You do not even know the reasons for these things. They doubtless do not know them themselves.”

“It is time they outgrew their superstitions,” said Brenner.

“I am trying to explain this to you,” said Rodriguez, quietly. “Try to understand it. If taboo is violated, and left unpunished, the pact with the totem, the very foundation of their way of life, is breached. This will call forth the wrath of the totem. It may punish them for their infidelity, for their crime. At the least it will no longer accord them its protection.”

“The totem is a git,” said Brenner.

“I am not sure of that,” said Rodriguez.

“Get back!” said Brenner, angrily, fiercely, to the git keeper. It scurried back, to stand beside the one cage, with its bloodied, crumpled occupant.

“Touched! Touched! Touched!” shrieked the git keeper. With his stick he pointed at the figure in the cage, and then at the female, again and again.

“Maybe no touch,” said Rodriguez. “Maybe mistake. Maybe no touch!”

“Saw! Saw! Saw!” shrilled the git keeper.

“It does not matter,” said Brenner to the git keeper. “It is all right to touch.”

There was then a great silence in the clearing.

“Yes,” said Brenner, quietly. “It is all right to touch.” It was strange in a way, he thought, that he, from the home world, should be saying this. The home world, for centuries, reeling in pernicious momentum, had discouraged touchings of an intersexual manner, as they were regarded as incompatible with the identity of the sexes, such touchings tending to elicit an outlawed masculinity and a forbidden femininity. It was true, of course, that they tended not to produce neuteristic identicals but, in effect, masters and slaves. Interestingly, masculinity and femininity had supposedly been disproven by science. But Brenner’s society, like many, had found it necessary to suppress with vigor what it claimed did not exist. Such inconsistencies are common amongst advanced societies, and idiots. There are, of course, numerous ways to produce offspring without touchings, available in laboratories, and such. Thus one needed have no fear as to imminent extinction on the home world. The official views tended to be accepted, at least ostensibly, by those in Brenner’s society who would seek to rise in various hierarchies. They tended also to be accepted by many moral individuals who, in virtue of their conscientious adherence to these directives, were effectively weeding themselves out of the population. It might be added that the average individual on Brenner’s home world now failed intelligence tests of the sorts which had been given several centuries ago, but, as an alarmed bureaucracy had hastened to produce new tests, it was proven, by identity of scores, that the intelligence of the population had not declined. Such touchings were not regarded as taboo on Brenner’s home world, of course, but rather as, depending on the authority, devolved, antiquated, perverse, antisocial, unprogressive, pathological or wicked.

“It is all right to touch,” repeated Brenner. He said this very softly, very gently, very soothingly.

Several of the Pons looked at one another, frightened. It was odd, thought Rodriguez. Their eyes. The look in their eyes was not like that which might have been in the eyes of home-worlders, amused, skeptical, or puzzled, that there might seem to be a reversal, perhaps local or temporary, perhaps in the interests of a party, in a policy which most of them had never genuinely internalized in the first place. No. It was quite different. This had not to do with the inanities of politics, and pressure groups, and what was thought to be in the best interest of this or that special group, and so was absurdly universalized for an entire species, but had to do with something fundamental in their lives. Some of the Pons seemed terribly uneasy, as though they might have suddenly, quite unexpectedly, found themselves standing defenseless amongst enemies. Some glanced back at the females. Their eyes were not met. Some of the females backed away. Distances widened appreciably. The eyes of others seemed frightened, as though they looked down into an abyss, or outward, into a nothingness. Several of the Pons began to wail and turn about. Some covered their faces.

The git keeper began to drive his pointed stick angrily into the ground near the one cage, stabbing again and again with it, down, into the ground.

Brenner looked at him, irritably.

The git keeper’s eyes were furious. Then, suddenly, angrily, petulantly, defiantly, he thrust his pointed stick through the bars of the small cage, hard, into the body confined there. The tiny body drew back spasmodically from the blow, whimpering.

“It’s not dead!” cried Brenner, wildly, delightedly.

He rushed toward the cage.

“You little bastards!” screamed Brenner, with tears in his eyes. “You little bastards!”

The git keeper fled away.

Brenner, with a strength he did not know he possessed, tore apart the cage. He drew forth the bloodied Pon. The small female moved toward him, timidly, putting out her hand. Brenner knelt down, holding the bloodied Pon in his arms. The female came to the thing in his arms, and pulled a little at its fur, a gesture not unlike grooming.

A ripple of horror went through the assembled Pons.

“It is all right,” wept Brenner. “It is all right.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez, suddenly, decisively. “It is all right!”

Brenner threw him a look of gratitude.

The small female began to croon over the thing in Brenner’s arms.

“Take it,” said Brenner to Rodriguez, standing up. “We are going to finish this thing once and for all.”

Rodriguez took the Pon.

Brenner went to the tripod from which hung the bloodied cage and threw it to the ground. He then, with his boots, smashed the remaining bars. He pulled apart the ropes. He scattered the poles, the rope, the bars. He then went to the other tripod and threw it down, and crushed that cage, too, under his feet, and then, too, cast the pieces about.

“Come along!” he said to the horrified Pons. “Come with me!”

He gestured with his arm, and strode toward the small shelter in the center of the clearing. The Pons, uneasily keeping the distances, some of them wailing, followed him. Rodriguez followed him, too, the tiny Pon in his arms, the small female running beside him.

Brenner now stood beside the table, that within the open-sided, roofed structure. The tiny wire cage, housing the git, was on the table.

Brenner looked at the small Pon in Rodriguez’ arms.

Rodriguez lifted it up and put his ear to its chest. “No,” he said. “It’s still alive.”

Brenner pointed to the git in the cage.

“This is a git,” he said. “It is not a totem. It is only a small animal. It is only an animal.”

The git looked up at him, with his small, round, shiny eyes.

Brenner regarded the Pons.

“You!” said Brenner. “Come here.”

He addressed himself to the git keeper, who had rejoined the group. The Pon approached him cautiously, holding its pointed stick.

Brenner put out his hand for the stick.

Reluctantly the Pon surrendered it.

“You will not need this,” Brenner said. He then broke the stick, into four pieces, and flung them away.

“Watch,” said Brenner.

“Be careful,” said Rodriguez. “It’s wild.”

Brenner had opened the tiny cage.

“This is only a git,” he said. “It is only a small animal, nothing more, only that.”

“Ahhh,” breathed a Pon.

Brenner had put his hand gently into the cage. With one finger he caressed the glistening, oily back of the small, fat creature.

“Be careful,” said Rodriguez.

“I won’t startle it,” said Brenner. “It’s tame.”

“Interesting,” said Rodriguez.

“See?” said Brenner to the Pons. “It is only a git. It is only a little animal.”

Brenner removed his hand from the cage.

“Do you want to touch it?” Brenner asked the git keeper.

The Pon shook his head negatively.

“Are you afraid of it?” asked Brenner.

The Pon looked up at him.

“Do not be afraid of it,” said Brenner. “Just do not startle it.”

The Pon looked about himself, at the others.

“Do not be afraid,” said Brenner.

The Pon looked at him again.

“It is the totem, is it not?” asked Brenner. “The totem does not harm its children.”

“You are treading on dangerous ground,” said Rodriguez.

The Pon then, slowly, carefully, put its arm into the cage.

“Be careful,” said Rodriguez.

“Eee!” screamed the Pon, jerking his hand back wildly, tipping the cage, causing it to fall, with the git, to the floor of the shelter. His finger was bright with blood. He thrust it wildly, in pain, in his mouth.

“You see!” cried Brenner. “It is not the totem! The totem does not harm its children! It is an animal, only an animal!”

The git keeper ran howling from the vicinity of the shelter.

“There are no totems!” said Brenner. “You may touch! You may love! You may do as you please! You are free! I have liberated you from superstition!”

The Pons regarded him.

“They do not understand,” said Rodriguez.

“They will later,” said Brenner.

“Perhaps it would be better if they did not,” said Rodriguez.

“I do not understand,” said Brenner.

“You cannot just go about taking people’s beliefs away,” said Rodriguez.

“I have done so,” said Brenner. “The beliefs are false. They must go.”

“And what will you put in their place?” asked Rodriguez.

“That is not my concern,” said Brenner.

“I thought you might have some developed ideology in mind,” said Rodriguez, “something that might be useful in the exploitation of colonials, or something.”

“No,” smiled Brenner.

“It might be better, if you had,” said Rodriguez.

“Be serious,” said Brenner.

“Do not expect gratitude,” said Rodriguez.

“There are no totems,” said Brenner to the Pons. “That is all over now. I am going to free the git.”

Brenner righted the cage, where it lay on the ground, and carefully put his hand into it. The git was crouched down, quivering, in one corner.

“Do not corner it,” said Rodriguez.

“I won’t,” said Brenner. Then he held his hand, open, near the git. In a moment or two it moved out of the corner. A little later it climbed onto Brenner’s hand. “It’s a heavy one,” said Brenner.

“Be careful,” said Rodriguez.

Then, very carefully, not closing his hand, Brenner lifted the git up and out of the cage, and held it, nestled, against his shirt. “I won’t hurt you,” he said to it. Then he said to the Pons. “See? It is not a totem. It is only a little animal. We are going to free it now, and as I free it, so, too, you are freed, from misery, from backwardness and superstition. In your world this is a great step. You will begin your climb now toward civilization.”

Brenner then slowly walked toward the gate of the palisade. When he reached that point he put the git down, at a point between two of the palings of the gate. It stayed there for a moment, and then, suddenly, rushed out the opening, hurrying away.

“It is gone now,” said Brenner, straightening up. “It is all over. Go back to your huts now.”

The Pons looked at him.

“Do you grasp what has occurred here?” asked Brenner.

“Three?” asked one of the Pons. That was the one which Rodriguez had derisively christened ‘Archimedes’.

“No,” laughed Brenner, touching its head. “Billions, and billions.”

The Pon looked at him, puzzled.

“There are no totems,” said Brenner. “You are free now, to love and grow.”

“We go back huts,” said Archimedes.

“It seems you have an ally,” said Rodriguez.

“We good Pons,” said Archimedes.

Brenner pointed to the injured Pon in Rodriguez’ arms, and to the tiny female who clung close to Rodriguez. “Good Pons, too,” he said.

“Good Pons?” asked Archimedes.

“Yes,” said Brenner. “All Pons good.”

“Yes,” said Archimedes. “All Pons good.”

“Go to your huts now,” said Brenner.

“Yes,” said Archimedes. “We go huts now.”

“They are still maintaining the distances,” said Rodriguez, as he watched the Pons withdraw.

“It will take time,” said Brenner, “for them to understand how far-reaching are the effects of today.”

“And what are the effects of today?” asked Rodriguez.

“Billions, and billions,” said Brenner. “The opening of a whole new world.”

“You were clever with the git keeper,” said Rodriguez. “He would either handle it or not. If he refused to handle it, it would seem he feared the totem might injure one of its children, thus betraying a lack of faith in his own dogmas. If he handled it, either it would injure him or not. If it did not injure him, he would, at the least, in his handling of it, have suggested, and perhaps even demonstrated, its simple animal nature, that it was no more than any other animal. And if it did injure him, as perhaps fortunately for you, and not so fortunately for him, it did, that, of course, as the totem animal is not supposed to injure its children, would make clear the fallacy of totemism.”

“Precisely,” said Brenner.

“It was very nicely done,” said Rodriguez.

“Thank you,” said Brenner.

“You have ruined the study, of course,” said Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“We can always fake the report,” said Rodriguez. “It would have to be faked anyway, if it were not politically congenial.”

“True,” said Brenner.

“What are we going to do with these Pons?” asked Rodriguez.

“We will keep them in our hut until we are sure they are safe,” said Brenner.

“This one is asleep,” said Rodriguez, of the Pon in his arms.

“He has lost a great deal of blood,” said Brenner.

“He is your little friend, is he not?” asked Rodriguez.

“Yes,” smiled Brenner. “He is.”

“I thought so,” said Rodriguez.

“The female,” said Brenner, “is the one we saw with him, several days ago, behind the huts, closer to one another than the prescribed distances.”

“I thought she might be,” said Rodriguez.

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

“There is one thing here which I find hard to understand,” said Rodriguez.

“What is that?” asked Brenner.

“It seems surprising to me that the Pons bore the loss of their totem with such grace.”

“They were ripe to outgrow it,” said Brenner.

“There is still a matter to consider,” said Rodriguez.

“What?” said Brenner.

“A taboo has been violated,” said Rodriguez, “and its violation has not been punished.”

“So?” asked Brenner.

“Did you not see the fear in them, when they returned to their huts?” asked Rodriguez.

“They were uneasy, some of them,” said Brenner.

“There will be terror for days, perhaps for weeks, in the village,” said Rodriguez.

“I have disproven their totemism,” said Brenner.

“Things are in a state of subtle balance,” said Rodriguez.