The Mantooth — Themes and Context

Valley had long since existed in well-defined clans, not unlike the wolves of Kipling or Tolkien. The two studied each other a moment in silence.

Then suddenly both man and beast stiffened, simultaneously aware they were no longer alone. Kalus' sensitive hearing had detected the hissing breath of a nearby predator, while Akar's keen nose (he heard the breathing as well) now caught the thick and unmistakable scent of a Commodore. Not wishing to remain and discover its source, the wolf darted quickly away, leaving the man-child alone with his fears.

As the rasping hiss grew louder and nearer, Kalus headed instinctively for higher ground. Trapped among the shadows of a narrow canyon he was unable to see his pursuer, but knew from the sounds of shuffling stone that it was gaining on him rapidly. Moving to the craggy bluff upon his right he began to climb, hoping his enemy would be unable do the same.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. Emerging from the darkness the nightmare took a shape. Raising itself stiff and hunchbacked to the top of a massive, sunlit boulder, it took flesh as an enormous reptilian carnivore, like a tiny lizard slowed, and swelled to immense proportions. Throwback to the rock-climbing monsters of an age long forgotten, it moved among the lesser stones with terrifying grace. Desperate beyond words, Kalus began searching wildly for shelter.

His efforts were not in vain. Coming to a crumpled shelf jutting out of the rockface, he spied a small opening just ahead and to his right, and with the giant reptile just a few short yards behind, rushed headlong and breathless into the welcome shadows of a small cave.

But the danger was not yet passed. Though unable to fit the whole of its body into the small enclosure, the lizard was not so easily defeated. Forcing its head into the mouth of the cave it shot forth a long, snake-like tongue, hoping to catch the man-beast as a frog might capture a fly. After several narrow misses, Kalus realized that his only hope was to delve deeper into the ever-increasing darkness of the cave. His eyes not yet accustomed to the failing light he moved cautiously, not wishing to exchange the present danger for that of a blind fall. Feeling his way slowly along the grainy, lichen-covered walls, he tried to be certain of each advancing step.

But in spite of all his caution he slipped, and found himself plummeting downward through illusory darkness, a silent scream ringing in his ears. Seconds later he landed abruptly. His last thoughts before losing consciousness were that something must have broken his fall. For he had dropped a considerable distance through the blackness of an underground shaft, and knew that by all reason he should have been killed.

Hours passed, as the Mantooth's subconscious struggled to keep him alive. A severe blow to the back of the head had brought him to the point of death, and only sheer desire and a tireless will to survive could save him now. Such was a daily occurrence in the Valley---nature's way of separating the weak from the strong.

But Kalus had always lived up to such trials in the past, and this was to be no exception. Fighting his way back to consciousness, he opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back in a bed of cool moss covered with furs, his wounds being treated by the soothing hands of a woman-child. Raising himself weakly, he turned as if in a dream to look upon the face of his redeemer.

She was, without question, the most desirable female he had ever seen. Young and fair, her sun-streaked hair and gold-flecked green eyes were highlighted and contrasted by skin of bronze and trinkets of silver. Her muscles were smooth and round; the outline of her breasts showed full beneath a woven garment the likes of which he had never seen. Her raiment, indeed her very face tones and gestures, appeared to him strange and exotic, and it seemed apparent that she had come from a land far away. Using simplified gestures, he tried to ask her who she was, and what hidden passage it was that he had found. For he sensed that he was still deep underground, and was puzzled by the dancing firelight and warmth all around him.

'Not now,' she whispered softly.

Giving him water from a clay vessel, she motioned for him to lie back and rest. Though he still had many questions he obeyed willingly, knowing that his strength was all but gone. Lying back painfully he tried, and finally succeeded, in falling asleep.

The girl remained beside him on the covered lip of rock that formed her bed, looking up at the shaft and wondering at the impossible coincidence. She reached out once, as if to touch his brow, but drew back the hand when she saw that it was trembling. She gazed at him thoughtful and misty-eyed, wondering.

Kalus had slept poorly, dreaming of lizards and spiders, and for several terrifying moments after first awakening, could not determine where the dreams ended and reality began. Sylviana had watched his troubled sleep, and tried to wake him gently when his limbs began to tremble.

But the girl, gifted from birth with the power of speech, could not begin to understand the anguish that a mind without words was subjected to at such a time. There could be no gentle self-reassurances, no soothing thoughts or voice of comfort from within. Only her presence, and the apparent safety of the chamber, helped bring him back slowly from the wordless world of darkness and terror in which his spirit seemed to linger. She put a hand to his shoulder but he only pushed it away, sitting up and looking about him bewilderedly.

Sensing that the time had come for him to be given some answer to his unspoken questions, the girl tried speaking to him slowly, using the primitive analogies she hoped he would understand.

'My name is Sylviana,' she began. 'This place you have found is called Trialis (a purely fictional name, spawned by the need of the moment). It is a holy place---the temple of our father, the Sun.' She turned and pointed toward a long, altar-like projection of polished stone that jutted unnaturally from the worn granite behind it. Several feet out from its base, ringed by a circle of stones, burned a small fire. This in turn cast dancing images of light and shadow back upon an oval mirror, tinted blue-black and mounted securely into the wall above the slab. In truth they were neither altar nor mirror, but the girl could think of no other way to explain them.

Not that it mattered. Her words were entirely lost upon the young outcast. He had listened intently, seeing that she wished to communicate, but could make no sense of the seemingly infinite barrage of varying sounds and expressions. He shook his head and looked at her ruefully, an expression that betrayed more of himself than he knew.

Realizing that her words meant nothing to him, she decided to summon the Spirit (for so he called himself), to see if His words held true. Helping Kalus to his feet, she led him slowly and gingerly toward the altar.

He offered no resistance. Instructing him to remain behind her, she stepped carefully past the flame and ascended the three steps leading to the polished projection of stone. Approaching the mirror she hesitated, as if afraid or unsure, then reached out over the stone and touched her fingers lightly to the glass, activating the machine. As the unseen circuitry behind it whirred and came to life, a message was carried by thin beams of laser light deep into Space. She waited a short time, then spoke.

'Great Spirit,' she began, 'Though I do not know your name. Come and be among us. For the man-child has come, even as you said that he would. But I am confused, and he doesn't seem to understand the words I speak. I'm terribly afraid that I will do something wrong and drive him away, and be left alone in this place. . .forever. Please, if you're really who you say you are then come and show yourself to him. Say something to make him stay. Please, you must make him stay.'

Though he could not understand the words, Kalus felt the desperation with which they were spoken, and saw plainly that they somehow dealt with him. Her softness was unlike anything he had ever known. What could it mean?

A moment later a deep silence fell over the room, and in the gentle tension it brought, an outside presence was felt. Barely noticeable at first, and then undeniably, the two felt another dimension being added to the room. The colors around them grew suddenly brighter, edged with gold, and in the back of their minds they felt the vicarious sensations of a great, bodiless spirit swooping downward from the heavens, like a giant eagle diving towards the Earth. The room became dark, all save the misty blueness of the mirror. The fire dimmed, as if on cue, and a pinpoint of brilliant light appeared at the very center of the glass. There it grew in size and intensity until the magnitude of its brightness forced Kalus to shield his eyes and look away. Sylviana stood motionless, face turned and arm raised, disbelieving. For until now the Spirit had spoken to her only as a voice, a signal translated into words by the machine. The image was dimmed to a tolerable brilliance. She lowered her arm.

Then a different Voice was heard, deep and alive, like the whisper of the wind and the roar of an ocean. It was an eternally resilient and yet melancholy sound, time-wizened and thoughtful, never fully joyous or sad.

'Sylviana,' it began solemnly. 'Sylviana, I have come. Your vigil has not been in vain. For the Mantooth has been brought to you, even as I said that he would. Be at peace, I will speak to him now as you ask.' Seeming to turn its attention toward Kalus, the Voice began again. And somehow, though not miraculously, he understood.

'Come, look upon me, young one, and do not be afraid. There is much that I would say to you.' Slowly Kalus turned back toward the glass, beholding for the first time a sight that few men had ever seen. There before him, floating gently amid the vastness of heaven, he looked direct and unhindered into the glowing white-light majesty of a living dwarf star. And whether the true source of the transmission or not, the image itself was real.

Steady and unwavering, the Voice continued. 'Long ago, when my heart was younger, the being that became my flesh gave birth also to many orbiting spheres. Most were stillborn, as is often the way of heaven. But three lived on. These have been called by men Venus, Mars and the Earth. Each in its own way and in its own time was capable of bearing and supporting new life. But of the three, the one called Earth was fairest. Like a fertile womb it lay sleeping, a perfect cloud-veiled globe of wide red lands and mighty oceans. Already the throbbings of life could be seen, as tiny colonies of cells swam restlessly among themselves, waiting only for direction. It was here then I chose to sow my seed, that life should come from life, and my spirit be continued.

'So it was that after a time very long and yet very short, creatures of flesh came to swim in Earth's oceans, later to walk upon the land. But still I perceived a great void: there were none to look back and wonder, as I did, at the mystery of Universe which had spawned them. And so, as if it were always meant to be, Man came forward, in truth more of himself than by any action of mine. He was by far the most gifted of Earth's children, with hands freed to toil and mind free to think. He was a wonder of perception and dexterity.

'But man possessed a terrible flaw, a fault unforeseen in any of my eager, nuptial thought. Because of his greater intelligence, man perceived that he would one day grow old and die, a certainty unknown to his animal brothers, only guessed at by the wisest. Realizing this, he could also foresee the inevitable sorrows of sickness and despair, along with a host of imagined terrors his mind could not even give names to. It was from this knowledge that the Demon was born: the Demon of Fear.

'And this fear eventually destroyed man. Through all his generations he could not overcome it. Great men rose up, and some who were more than men, to challenge the demon and cast it aside. Victories were won, but they were not lasting. Always the fear would change shape and rise again, equally hideous, and often more powerful than before.

'It was in its way a glorious struggle, and at times it seemed that Eternity held its very breath, as ten thousand eyes from above looked down to see the forces of good and evil do battle in such broad and sweeping strokes. But the cost in human suffering was enormous, and after so many years I knew in my heart that an end was drawing nigh upon it. For Nature carries its own purposes, and will not be denied in the exercising of its sharp and merciful will.

'So it was that on a day whose horror I shall never be able to block from my thoughts, the evil that had grown in Man finally and decisively overcame the good. The mind that was given to create, used its cunning instead to devise weapons so powerful and heedless that nothing on Earth could stop them. And when fear took the hearts and minds of the multitudes they were unleashed, thoughtlessly, one in answer to the other, until all reasons for the conflict were lost among the fury and panic of destruction.

'Only a handful survived. Six billion voices cried out to me, to save them from the onslaught. But I haven't the power, young ones..... I haven't the power.' The air grew thick and heavy around them.

'The seed of Man was all but destroyed, left to sleep for centuries in the blackened voids of Time. It slept, and even had I wished to I could not of my own will revive it. Only Nature heals the wounds of time.' The Voice paused, as if gathering itself for a final effort.

'But now the flame is alive once more, cradled in your young and willing hearts. I implore you both, for the sake of those who struggled so long and hard before you, spread that flame anew. Feel the one passion that can yet save us, the one emotion that moves even the coldest distant star: the perfect glory of human love.

'Indeed, it is the one gift I have left to give you. Even now my time grows short, for this place is no longer mine to command. Kalus, I would ask that you take to your heart the young woman, Sylviana. Be to her strength and shelter, for she is dearer to me than any words can hope to express.

'But you must both know, I can promise you nothing. Your survival must depend on your ability to learn from the ways of Nature, and upon your will and desire to endure. Kalus, as it is still within my power, I return to you now the gift of speech. Use it wisely. Farewell.'

Then both voice and spirit were gone, and only Earth-life remained in the chamber.

'Wait!' cried Sylviana. 'You can't leave me here, please. Come BACK.'

But even as she spoke the image in the mirror faded, and a narrow beam of violet light shot forth from its place in the glass. Coming to rest in the center of Kalus' forehead, it seemed to hold him there against his will. He felt his whole body tingling with an electric sensation that centered at the base of his spine, intensifying as it reached the smooth-folding membranes at the uppermost portion of his brain. His mind churned with unfamiliar sounds and images, as if a thousand tiny doors had suddenly burst open from within, flooding a dark chamber with new and unimagined light.

Then the feeling was gone and the beam released him. The firelight returned with its dancing glow, as Kalus slumped to the ground. Recovering himself enough to be awe-struck, he turned to the girl for whatever explanation she might offer.

'It's all right,' she said reassuringly, though not at all sure herself what it meant.

Deep in her own thoughts, she still hadn't noticed the wolf, who had slipped in through the darkness once more to be with the woman-child he had befriended. Sensing her mood it had not tried to attract her attention, but waited patiently instead a short distance from the altar. Kalus saw him. He pointed.

Grateful for the intrusion, Sylviana descended the steps and went to greet him. Going down on one knee she gently stroked the soft, silver-gray fur, ruffling his ear and gazing into the peaceful, intelligent eyes. He seemed to readily accept the presence of the man-child, and now reminded her more of a harmless pup than of the savage predator she knew he must be in the world outside. It was Akar, of course.

'It's all right,' she began again, turning back to her human companion. 'He won't hurt you. The wolf is my friend.'

'Yes,' answered Kalus without thinking. 'I know him well---

'Sylviana!' he stammered. 'I speak! My mind is all around me. How can these things be?'

'I'm not sure,' she replied honestly. 'But I'm grateful for your company all the same. I've been here alone for so long.....' She stopped when she saw the weary, washed-out confusion of his face. Though far from happy herself, she realized that in this moment his need was still greater.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered sadly, eyes to the ground. 'You have enough to think about already.' Slowly the words came to her. 'Try not to worry. Things will work out for us, you'll see. Right now you should eat, then I'll check your bandages and you can sleep a while longer.' He nodded gratefully.

Sitting weakly on one of the steps, Kalus let his mind go blank. Sylviana went to prepare a meal as best she could, and the he-wolf retired to a favorite corner to lie down. For the moment, at least, all was as it should have been.

A very rare moment, indeed.

Kalus woke feeling strangely insecure. It was a feeling he had known before, and one he had come to respect. Rising quickly, he instinctively scanned his surroundings. At first he could not remember where he was. The events of the day before had struck so suddenly, and with such sweeping change that he found his mind racing, trying to put back the pieces of all that had happened, and think what he must now do in answer.

Slowly it came back to him. The piled furs on which he sat had been placed for him there by Sylviana, the young woman-child who lived in this place, some sort of wide underground passageway. She had nursed his wounds and spoken strangely of a land he would never see. Of the rest he was still quite uncertain, but at least sensed that he was safe, a knowledge that helped quiet his fears, and soothe the angry horde of questions that kept pounding at his brain. Looking across the room he saw that the girl lay sleeping a short distance away, lying in a similar bed among the shadows of the far wall. She had tried to make him sleep there instead but he refused, it being so foolishly placed beneath the unprotected shaft. At her feet rested the he-wolf, Akar, the creature most largely responsible for his present plight. Seeing him Kalus remembered his banishment, an event which had yet to make its full impact upon him. He shook his head in dismay.

HOW WILL I STAY ALIVE? he found himself asking. EVEN THE WOLF BARELY LIVES, AND HE IS BY FAR A GREATER HUNTER THAN I.