The Totems of Abydos

CHAPTER 25





“You should not have come without the rifle,” said Brenner.

“You did not need to accompany me,” said Rodriguez.

He shone the electric torch about the walls of the long, narrow, cavelike aperture, cut into the side of the cliff.

The rifle, as so many items, now and again, in the past, had been missing that morning. To be sure, the Pons would not have understood its power, its capacity for destruction, its terribleness, even that it was a weapon. Presumably they would not even understand the nature of the optical instrument it was designed to resemble, a telescope, or distance magnifier. It was probably not even, to them,, a toy. It was only a shiny object, attractive, and pretty, like mirrors, like colored, multifaceted glass beads. To be sure, it was unfortunate that on this morning, this particular morning, it had disappeared. Brenner, as you might suppose, had then strenuously opposed Rodriguez’ leaving the village, particularly considering his proposed destination, but, predictably, Rodriguez, in his impatient, obstinate fashion, had insisted on going. “It will not be better tomorrow,” he had said. And perhaps that was true. It was irritating to think that the Pons, with their penchant for picking up objects, usually bright, attractive ones, sometimes smooth, well-fitted complex ones, like boxes or cases, and such, showed so little sense or discrimination. One thing would be to them much as another thing. A radio, for example, would be nothing to them but a fascinating metal object, an aesthetic artifact, not a valuable technological apparatus, a means for speaking across great distances. Most of the things they had taken were of little value, of course, and their loss represented little more than a nuisance or inconvenience to Rodriguez and Brenner, but the loss of some other things, as you might suppose, such as the radios, was quite serious, resulting, as it did, in a severe reduction in their resources. And the loss of the rifle, of course, might actually prove dangerous.

“Do not go!” Brenner had begged Rodriguez.

“Do not come with me,” Rodriguez had said to Brenner.

“Very well,” had said Brenner. “You shall go alone!”

But, of course, when Rodriguez had left the village, Brenner had accompanied him.



* * *



“These places grow less well-hewn,” said Rodriguez, shining the light about. “I would say this one dates from some middle period.”

“There is a side passage there,” said Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez. Some of these side passages, as they had discovered, led to other chambers. Some led to a veritable interlinkage of chambers. Some of these side chambers, as it had turned out, could be reached directly, from their own external entrances, and some only indirectly, by means of other passages.

“Shall we follow it?”

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.



* * *



“Anything could walk here,” said Brenner, looking up at the steep walls, the lofty ceiling.

“But it hasn’t,” said Rodriguez. “Consider the dust.”

“Animals might den in such places,” said Brenner.

“But apparently they do not do so,” said Rodriguez.

“Why not?” inquired Brenner.

“They are forest creatures,” said Rodriguez.

“Come now,” said Brenner.

“Perhaps they are afraid to do so,” said Rodriguez.

“You do not put me at my ease,” said Brenner.

“Perhaps these places are guarded,” said Rodriguez.

“By what?” asked Brenner.

“That is a joke,” said Rodriguez.

“I am uneasy here,” said Brenner.

“Look!” said Rodriguez.

The light shone now on a gigantic marble sarcophagus. Above this object, and behind it, in a sort of vast niche in the wall, there was a gigantic head, carved from marble. It was the representation of a crocodilian animal.

“Behold another totem of the Pons,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner shuddered.

“The forest must once have been much more moist than now,” said Rodriguez. “More marshlike, or swamplike.”

In their explorations in the cliff passages, many of them interlinked, they had found many such sarcophagi, with similar carvings, sometimes in marble, sometimes in limestone, sometimes in wood. The subjects of these carvings had been numerous, but all were of apparently formidable creatures, of one sort or another. The most recent such carving, or that which was apparently most recent, was of wood, and had been found in one of the first passages explored. It was that, unmistakably, of a Persian lion. It might be mentioned that many of the chambers associated with these passages were empty, particularly in the vicinity of the most recent carvings.

“Such creatures are more inert and simple than the current totem,” said Rodriguez. “The Persian lion, I would think, constitutes an improvement on such creatures.”

“From the point of view of the Pon,” said Brenner.

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.

“I am afraid to be here,” said Brenner, suddenly.

“Why?” asked Rodriguez. “We are safe. We have taken care to protect ourselves.”

“Oh, yes,” said Brenner, miserably.

“Come along,” said Rodriguez, eagerly, starting into another passage.



* * *



“Excellent,” said Rodriguez, shining his light on another stone representation, in its niche, above and behind another sarcophagus.

“It is a frightening carving,” said Brenner.

“It is beautiful,” said Rodriguez.

The light shone on what appeared to be the triangular, flattish head of a gigantic snake.

“Early middle period,” said Rodriguez.

“Certainly,” said Brenner, skeptically.

Rodriguez laughed, delightedly. “Surely you recognize that these carvings do group themselves in terms of technique and conception, that there are differences in style.”

“That’s true,” said Brenner.

“And so I am putting them into periods,” said Rodriguez.

“You are incorrigible,” said Brenner.

“I wonder if these things are due to Pons,” mused Rodriguez.

“Why?” asked Brenner.

“It seems unlikely they could work stone, and with this skill, and, more importantly, with this grasp of what they are doing.”

“Do you recognize the snake?” asked Brenner.

“I think so,” said Rodriguez.

“What do you think it is?”

“I think it is a Nubian viper,” said Rodriguez.

“That cannot be,” said Brenner.

“Why not?” asked Rodriguez.

“That is not native to this world,” said Brenner.

“Neither is the Persian lion,” said Rodriguez.



* * *



“Things grow more archaic,” said Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

There were duplications, of course, amongst the many carvings in the various chambers, reached by diverse passages. The totems, or representations thereof, if that is what they were, upon occasion seemed to constitute a series. For example, over a considerable period it seemed the totem animal, if these were really totem animals, as seemed likely, had been a form of large, ferretoid creature, and after that some varieties of panther, of sorts probably native to the forest, not unlike that which had borne away Archimedes. These forms of mammalian creatures, quadrupeds, seemed to have been on the whole the most recently favored choices of the Pons, assuming these things to have been done by the Pons. Needless to say, the Persian lion, a representative of which species was the current totem of the Pons, represented an archetype, or exemplar, of such a life form, the quadrupedal predator. Many of the animals portrayed, it must be admitted, were not recognized by Rodriguez, which was interesting, because he was not only a hunter, but something of a gifted, and well-informed, amateur naturalist. Of the animals he was sure he recognized, certain ones, such as the Nubian viper and Persian lion, were not, surprisingly, native to Abydos. Whereas one might have supposed many of the totems to have been purely fanciful, or mythical, or, if not, merely represented, perhaps from pictures or accounts of far worlds, and had perhaps never in actuality roamed the environing forests in one or another of their historical states, there was no doubt, at least, about one thing. These forests, now, in their immediate, present state, did constitute the current habitat of at least one of the beasts represented, the Persian lion.

“As we come to earlier and earlier passages,” whispered Rodriguez, “have you noticed how many of the totems have become more Ponlike.”

“More simian,” said Brenner.

“I had begun to suspect,” said Rodriguez, “that these passages, the chambers, the sarcophagi, the carvings, and such, because of the work involved, and the nature of it, could not have been done by Pons, but now I am less sure of it.”

“You think something different was here, long ago, that it made these places, and that the Pons, coming later, or culturally influenced, borrowed their totemism from it?”

“Corrupting and reducing it in the process,” smiled Rodriguez, “as I would expect, from Pons.”

“But now you are not sure?”

“No,” said Rodriguez. “In the totems it is rather like the Pons are concerned, later, more and more, to conceal or obscure any possible kinship, or relationship, between their own life form and the totem type.”

“The differences begin rather dramatically at the beginning of what you chose to call the middle period.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez. “It is almost as though they wanted to distance themselves from some memory, or event, or insight.”

“Or obscure it to others?” said Brenner.

“That is possible,” said Rodriguez.

“Why should that be?” asked Brenner.

“I don’t know,” said Rodriguez.

“Some of the middle totems are not even mammalian in nature,” said Brenner. “The later totems would seem more Ponlike, if only in being mammalian forms.”

“Perhaps biologically more Ponlike, as they are also mammalian forms,” said Rodriguez, “but, certainly at least from the point of view of a primitive mind, otherwise quite unlike Pons, for example, in their cast, their restlessness, their aggressiveness, their savagery, their dispositions.”

“Such things might better serve the purposes of the pact,” said Brenner, “than certain other forms of totem.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez. “I have asked myself how such things as a snake, for example, could be partner somehow to the pact. Surely it lacks the intelligence.”

“The Persian lion, too,” said Brenner, “is only a mere beast.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez, “the mystery remains.”

“Perhaps,” said Brenner, “in the return to mammalian forms there is exhibited a tendency, perhaps not fully understood, to return to, or hint at, to some extent, the original understanding of the totemic pact.”

“Whatever that was,” said Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“That is an interesting possibility,” said Rodriguez. “There might seem a fittingness to them, after ages, perhaps not really understood, to return to mammalian forms for their totem.”

“But such beasts, too,” said Brenner, “as we have noted, might constitute more effective totems, in the sense of being more effective guardians, and such.”

“That, of course, is true,” said Rodriguez. “We might even have a subtle balancing of considerations here.”

Brenner shrugged.

“Many, perhaps most, totemistic mammalian groups have mammalian totems,” said Rodriguez.

“That is true, too,” said Brenner.

“But the Pons have apparently changed their totem from time to time,” said Rodriguez.

“That seems to make no sense,” said Brenner.

“I agree,” said Rodriguez.

“Do you have a theory to explain these things?” asked Brenner.

“Not the specifics of the totemism of the Pons,” said Rodriguez. “They seem quite mysterious to me, and not even typical.”

“But what of totemism itself, in general.”

“There are many theories, as you know.”

“Of course,” said Brenner.

“All of them obviously implausible,” said Rodriguez.

“Do you have a theory?”

“I am interested in a theory,” said Rodriguez. “But it is a very ancient theory.”

“Oh?” said Brenner.

“It was outlawed, with a number of other theories, ages ago.”

“You mean “refuted”?”

“No,” said Rodriguez. “It is too real, and meaningful, and too much supports it, to be “refuted,” at least in any real sense of refutation. To be sure, it has been claimed to be refuted in a thousand ways. Or used to be. Now, more effectively, it is not mentioned. Most scientists do not even know of it. I came on an old text in which it was referred to, in a derogatory fashion, of course, and it sounded so interesting, and the reasons given against it were so stupid, and so obviously politically motivated, I began a search for the original materials. They were proscribed on a dozen worlds but, at last, on one world, in a black market, I found the forbidden texts.”

“What was this theory?”

“It was one of several related theories,” said Rodriguez, “pertaining to various things. They have all been proscribed, or removed from libraries, files, and such.”

“Why?” asked Brenner.

“They were uncongenial to the ambitions of certain groups,” said Rodriguez. “Thus, they were false.”

“I see,” said Brenner.

Brenner was not unaware of the political constraints to which truth, or, at least, the dissemination of it, and the statement of it, were subject. In most fields, of course, there were fields within fields, the public field, so to speak, which proclaimed the public doctrines, whatever they happened to be at the time, and was thus permitted to exist, and even serve the ends of various parties and groups, and the secret, internal fields, where a small elite of investigators, largely on their own time, and at their own risk, pursued the old quarries of reality and truth. These usually met in clandestine fashion and communicated largely on a face-to-face basis, or in contraband publications, sometimes in handscript, copied as they passed from hand to hand, sometimes roughly reproduced on small machines in basements and attics, sometimes even inscribed within microdots or recorded in invisible inks, responsive to rare reagents. Governments, suspecting such organizations, and realizing the subversive nature of their interests, often attempted to infiltrate them, to expose, and disband them. Many scientists had, as a consequence of these vigorously prosecuted inquiries, been removed from academic posts, which it was now recognized they were unfit to hold. Others, of course, were disbarred from various fields, on the grounds of academic treason. Many others, if the matter was serious enough, were assigned to correction camps, rehabilitation centers, reeducation facilities, and such. With others probation was deemed sufficient. Most scientists, of course, cooperated with the authorities involved, the governments, the parties, and such, and managed, hopefully, for their peace of mind, to enthusiastically convince themselves of the propositions which, in any case, they were required to accept. In the light of such considerations it was remarkable that the pursuit of reality and truth, with all its risks, tended to continue to attract investigators. Many other minds, of course, directed their interests, perhaps wisely, into less sensitive fields, such as physics and mathematics. Some even devoted their time to the pursuit of intricate board games.

“The theory could, of course, independently, be false,” said Brenner.

“Certainly,” said Rodriguez, “as it is a real theory, a genuine theory, and not an irrefutable theory-surrogate or pseudotheory. Similarly, that a theory must be pronounced false for political reasons does not guarantee that it is true. A fool, for example, for absurd reasons, on the basis of irrelevant considerations, such as Chian sand casting, or the flights of birds, the tracks of insects, and such, might be led to ascribe falsity to a given mathematical proposition, which happens, indeed, to be false. Luck is on his side.”

“The fool will not believe it is mere luck, of course,” said Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez. “He is a fool.”

“What was this theory?” asked Brenner.

“Which may be false?”

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“We are in the process of inquiring into its plausibility now,” said Rodriguez.

“Here, on Abydos?” asked Brenner.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“You are not being very clear about its nature,” said Brenner.

“You might not find it agreeable,” said Rodriguez.

“Then it must be false,” said Brenner.

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.

“Of course,” said Brenner, bitterly.

“It is not flattering to the rational species,” said Rodriguez. “It does not seem to fit in well with their vanity and self-image. Indeed, perhaps it is too horrifying to be true.”

“I see,” said Brenner.

“It is sometimes referred to as the “forbidden theory,”” said Rodriguez.

“Quite scientific,” commented Brenner.

“Truth is under no obligation to be congenial or appealing, of course,” said Rodriguez, “any more than it is under an obligation to be uncongenial or unappealing. It is just what it is. Congeniality and appealingness are predicates more appropriate to our responses to truth than to truth itself. Too, there are those whom truth crushes and those whom it exalts. Truth is what it is. Whether it kills us, or makes us kings, is largely up to us.”

“I do not think I am familiar with this theory,” said Brenner.

“It is perhaps just as well,” said Rodriguez.

“I cannot be of much help to you, if I do not know what it is,” said Brenner.

“Whereas it is a real theory, and is true or false,” said Rodriguez, “there is no sure way to test it, as the events to which it pertains must, in their nature, belong to a remote past, one which, if the theory is correct, as it pertains to the origins of culture, must antedate culture, at least as we know it.”

“And antedate language?”

“Presumably,” said Rodriguez.

“But evidence must be pertinent to it, if it is a genuine theory,” said Brenner.

“Evidence is obviously pertinent to it,” said Rodriguez, “but the evidence which would show it true or false may not be available. For example, we might have a theory as to the first well-formed sentence you uttered, and it is obvious the sorts of evidence which would be pertinent to that, but the evidence just might not be available any longer. The visible and auditory aspects of the event no longer exist. No one may remember, no one may have been paying attention, no records may have been kept, and so on. This is often the case. We then have a theory which is more or less plausible, but can never be shown to be absolutely true or false. This is a merely contingent imperviousness to testability, which is quite different from the imperviousness to testability of a theory-surrogate or pseudotheory.”

“There are also considerations of plausibility, of comparative adequacies of explanation, relative to a given set of data, and such,” said Brenner.

“And they are quite important,” said Rodriguez, “particularly in a case of this sort.”

“But you would like harder evidence,” said Brenner.

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.

“I do not think you would have come to Abydos,” said Brenner, “if you had despaired of the acquisition of harder evidence.”

“Perhaps not,” smiled Rodriguez.

“Legend, myth, custom, practices, ritual, tradition?” suggested Brenner.

“Of course,” said Rodriguez.

“And perhaps evidence more fixed and real even than such things.”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez, shining his light about.

“Physical evidence?”

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“What is it that you are really looking for here?” asked Brenner.

“The earliest grave,” said Rodriguez.



* * *



“Did you hear something, back there?” asked Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez.

“There may be something behind us,” said Brenner.

“That is unlikely,” said Rodriguez. “Consider the depth of the dust, its undisturbed state.”

“Behind us,” said Brenner.

“But nothing walked there, for a thousand years,” said Rodriguez.

“It might now,” said Brenner.

“Unlikely,” said Rodriguez. “Listen.”

“No,” said Brenner, “I do not hear anything now.”

“I am going ahead,” said Rodriguez. “If you wish, you may go back and investigate.”

“I do not hear it now,” said Brenner.

“Come along,” said Rodriguez.

“Wait a moment,” said Brenner.

“Take the light then,” said Rodriguez.

Brenner took the light and retraced his steps, for perhaps a hundred yards in the passages.

“Do not get lost,” called Rodriguez, his voice echoing through the passages.

In time, Brenner, sometimes calling out to Rodriguez, and being answered, and being guided by t is, rejoined his senior colleague.

“Anything?” asked Rodriguez.

“No,” said Brenner. The only tracks which Brenner had discerned were those of Rodriguez and himself.

“I could not examine all the passages,” said Brenner.

“If anything was following us, it would use the same passages,” said Rodriguez.

“Anything simple,” said Brenner.

“I do not think there is anything else in here,” said Rodriguez.

“It might just be in here, for its own reasons,” said Brenner. “I do not think I would care to meet it.”

“The wind plays tricks on the hearing, in passages such as these,” said Rodriguez.

“I do not hear anything now,” said Brenner.

“In any event,” said Rodriguez, “we are safe.”

“Of course,” said Brenner.

“The totem will protect us,” smiled Rodriguez.

“Of course,” said Brenner.

“Seriously,” said Rodriguez.

“Perhaps,” said Brenner.

Rodriguez had such confidence in his theories! This morning, though no love was lost between Rodriguez and the Pons, whom he despised, he had seized up the first Pon, a small male, he could get his hands on, pressed him to his chest, and squeezed him in an endearing fashion. He had also then made certain, following this unusual demonstration of affection, to rub the small body considerably against himself. He had then, as the tiny beast squeaked and jabbered, removed its smocklike garment, it fleeing, shrieking, into a nearby hut, and put it around his neck, rather like a scarf. He had, further, insisted that Brenner, to Brenner’s dismay, wear the same filthy shirt he had worn yesterday in the forest, that which doubtless bore on it the scent of Pon. Too, it seemed probable that because of the village, their living in it, the proximity of the Pons, and such, that they would, by this time, have acquired something in the nature of a nest odor or pack odor, or, in this case, perhaps a village odor, so to speak. Accordingly, thusly armed, thusly prepared, they had taken their leave of the village. It was in virtue of these considerations that Rodriguez now regarded them both as having included themselves within the pact of the totem. The point of this sort of thing, of course, was that the pact would protect them from the totem, and the totem, in virtue of the pact, would protect them from other things. To be sure, although Rodriguez had great faith in this theory, he did admit, upon being pressed by Brenner, that he would have preferred the rifle. But the rifle, as we have previously noted, was no longer available. It had disappeared.



* * *



“Look at that,” said Rodriguez.

“It frightens me,” said Brenner.

“These are very old representations,” said Rodriguez.

The large, carved head, roughly hewn, looked white, and awesome, in the light of Rodriguez’ torch.

“These are surely the earliest passages,” whispered Rodriguez.

Brenner regarded the massive head, hewn of limestone. It seemed primitively executed, but, somehow, the hand of the artist, and his terror, had captured something of what the thing must once have been. Even in the ancient stone, even given the roughness of the work, even given the obvious antiquity of the object, the remoteness of it in time from the present of Rodriguez and Brenner, there was communicated an undeniable, fierce vitality, the savagery, the arrogance, the might, the lordliness of a king of its kind.

“That is unmistakably simian,” said Brenner.

“Anthropoidal, primate,” said Rodriguez, in awe.

“What do you suppose its size actually was?” said Brenner.

“Consider the size of the sarcophagus,” said Rodriguez.

“It could uproot trees,” said Brenner.

“I wonder what its intelligence might have been,” said Rodriguez.

“The forehead slopes back,” said Brenner. “The eyes seem small, and closely set.”

“You do not think that Pons could have once been such things?” asked Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez.

“Have you seen such a thing before?”

“Such things do exist here and there in the galaxy,” said Rodriguez. “They may once have existed on Abydos. I do not know.”

“That is Ponlike,” said Brenner.

“In the sense of being simian, in a general sense,” said Rodriguez.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“We have seen similar things in the older passages,” said Rodriguez, “but none quite this fearsome.”

“The oldest passages have contained representations of other forms of beast, too,” said Brenner, “not all of them Ponlike.”

“True,” said Rodriguez. “But more have been simian in nature.”

“It is as though the Pons could not decide on the desiderated nature of the totem,” said Brenner.

“Or made use of what beasts might be available,” said Rodriguez.

“This is not typical in totemism,” said Brenner.

“Certainly not,” said Rodriguez.

“Do you think that this is the earliest grave?” asked Brenner.

“No,” said Rodriguez.

“But it is early?”

“If we may speak of an early period, and a middle period, and a new period, and recent times, so to speak,” said Rodriguez, “I would think this would be late early period.”

“And the Persian lion would be relatively recent?”

“Very recent,” said Rodriguez, “dating back no more than two or three thousand years.”

“These are surely the oldest passages,” said Brenner.

“The earliest grave may not even be in these passages,” said Rodriguez. “It may be outside them, before the Pons could work stone. It may even be unmarked, or concealed.”

“What do you expect to find in it?” asked Brenner.

“The father,” said Rodriguez.