The Kar-Chee Reign by Avram Davidson Page A

leave that matter for the immediate present. Only for the immediate present, though. By and by we must take it up. We are determined that our stay in this newest land, if it is suitable for habitation, must be of long duration. From which it must follow that we can harbor none among us who are not of our knowledge and our ways. Otherwise the same sorry story of sin, injustice, and iniquity, followed by punishment and Devilish visitation and destruction will repeat itself. We are wearied of it. Yes, Liam, we are wearied of it.”
    With a firm nod of his head he passed on, leaving Liam with much to think about.
    But within a few moments his meditations were interrupted. Gaspar was giving orders. The helm was unlashed and a man stationed on it. The mast was stepped into its socket, and the sails of sewn-matting bent in place to the yards. Oars were gotten ready. So far, evidently, they had ridden with the current (though presumably sail or oars had been needed to get them into it, in the first place) — but they were going to take no chances now, either of the current’s taking them past the land or perhaps wrecking them upon reefs or shoals or shores or shallows.
    All day long they watched, the arkmen abating somewhat their attitude of abstraction, and the raftmen theirs of suspicion … but no land came into sight.
    And that night Rickar and his friends returned again for whispering heresy. Liam hardly felt that he could either encourage or discourage them. He agreed that something better than the present group of choices should exist, but he did not know what that something might be. Pressed, urged that his “experience” demanded him to know more than the Knowers, old or young, at least upon this particular subject, he scowled … paused … said, at last, “We could hardly know less about Kar-chee and dragon than we do. Perhaps if we knew more we could do more … perhaps not….
    “But if we should find them here, or anywhere — or if they should find us — I wonder if we wouldn’t do better — rather than at once fleeing, or at once fighting — oh, I’m
sure
we would do better — to lie low. Not let ourselves be seen a while, or seen again. And concentrate everything on finding out as much as we can about them … without their finding out anything about us.”
    Rickar said: “Hiding and skulking?”
    “Put a stinking name to it and say it smells bad, if you like. You’re vexed because I won’t offer to lead you in a charge, aren’t you? If I thought it would do more than momentary good, I would. If I ever do, I will. But meanwhile … Knowers? On this subject, let us all become knowers. Father Gaspar’s proverb: ‘Knowledge is power.’ ”
    A sudden, dull glow of light suffused the horizon.
    “Heat lightning,” someone murmured, even as it vanished. It appeared again, twice more. The air seemed to quiver. Then, darkness, and the silent stars.
    Late the next afternoon land appeared — lying upon the rim of the sea like some crouching beast, and, presumably far inland, surmounting the high-massed land, a mountain peak with a long wisp of cloud pendant to it.
    Gaspar had appeared to welcome the suggestion of Liam that he and other raftmen accompany the arkfolk chosen to make an exploratory landing. Perhaps because this way, should anything untoward happen to the makers of the first landfall, the losses to and of his own people would be thereby diminished … or so thought Liam.
    But Gaspar would not allow the ark to put in close until the next day. For the remainder of light time they stood down the coast, making soundings, but finding no bottom anywhere. And toward the last he gave a little sound of satisfaction and pointed toward a line of white or yellow in between the dark water and the darker land.
    “Beach-coast, you see. Just the place for a small boat to put ashore — ” He was interrupted by a shout. Bottom had been found at last. “Good, then. We’ll anchor and ride here tonight.”
    It