Eric the Only was an initiate in this powerful force. But
tomorrow, tomorrow.... He would be free to raise his voice and express his opinions in the
Councils of Mankind. But she was the wife of a band leader and far, far beyond him. He knew that if he were successful--and he _had_ to be successful:
don't dare think of anything but success!--she would look with favor on
advances from him. Yes, and his mother had been very unlucky indeed. Good-looking too. And, above all, she didn't turn away from
him. She smiled at him, openly now. He smiled back. Hey, Eric! First comes the stealing. _Then_ comes the mating." Socially, they were still his
superiors. "I know that," he began. An _awful_ lot, Eric-O." Eric the Only felt his face turn bright red. Eric parried it and lunged
in his turn. The other young men had scrambled a distance down
the burrow to get out of their way. No, not that mad. His uncle. Thomas was asking behind
him. I was punishing him." And anyway, this is my band and
I do the punishing around here. Now move on out, all of you, and get
ready for the council. He was all of those things and more. But he only married once. Now dress up those spears. I would not be Eric the Only." You have to make a good Theft. "The usual one I guess. "No. Monster souvenirs? Eric frowned. "Big things. "That's easy," Eric chuckled. But above all, hit back
at the Monsters. Make them
know we're still here, we're still fighting. Right. Eric the Only stared at his uncle. His uncle couldn't have made
a mistake in such a basic ritual. "Please tell me this. That was way off. "Well, it's what our ancestors knew. And what they did with
it, I guess. Against the Monsters, I mean. He knew
the way now. his uncle ordered. "I--I guess so. "Well, I know. Eric the Only turned pale. "Eric. And now Eric understood. Bloodshed was
involved here, bloodshed and death. "Uncle Thomas," he whispered, in a voice that kept cracking despite
his efforts to keep it whole and steady, "how long have you been an
Alien-Science man? Eric stared
with him. He was in another band;
naturally we hadn't seen much of each other before he married my
sister. He'd been an Alien-Science
man for years. He converted your mother, and he converted me." Eric the Only backed away. he called out wildly. They died for it." "The kind you're going
after," he said. He didn't know what to say. I don't know if I can." "You can," his uncle told him heartily. It
will be like walking through a dug burrow, Eric. Eric asked. "The council's beginning, boy. If you
hit any trouble with the chief, I'll be there. I'm your sponsor, after
all." "I did." My nephew, Eric the Only." As his name was sung out, Eric shook himself. This, the most
important moment of his life, was proving almost too much for him. "I do." "And all this you swear to do?" "And all this I swear to do." Eric turned
to face the advancing leaders of the Female Society, Ottilie, the
Chieftain's First Wife, in the center. "Eric the Only," she intoned, and then paused to grin, as if it were a
name impossible to believe, "Eric the Singleton, Eric the one and only
child of either his mother or his father. Any man at all. "And I'm willing to
prove it." "Prove it, then!" It probed here, probed there; finally it found a nerve in his upper
arm. He didn't cry out; he didn't move away; he didn't
raise a hand to protect himself. "There
is no man here yet," she said grudgingly. He could relax. The physical test was over. Meanwhile, the women's physical test was over. "A little," he said. "Not much." "I know. He saw the way, saw what was expected of him. "No," he contradicted
her. We live on what we steal, but we do not
steal just to go on living." "Why?" Here it was now. The catechism. "_To hit back at the Monsters_," he began. She tried to trip him once. But he couldn't help remembering the conversation with his uncle in the
other burrow. His uncle was
Alien-Science, and, according to his uncle, so had been his parents. He knew the smiles meant little more than simple best wishes from
apprentices of one sex to apprentices of the other, but even that was
quite a bit at the moment. "Harken to the words of our ancestors," she chanted. "Eric the Only," Rita called, spinning the dial on the left of the
machine with one hand and stabbing at it randomly with the forefinger
of the other. Himself. His future. the vision yelled out at them. Value, value, value!" Now the vision showed only objects. As low as three dollars a week. The supply
is limited, so hurry, hurry, hurry!" But Eric was getting worried. You see further, you see clearer, you
pay less. He
strained his ears to listen. This, this was it. Who he really was. Who
he would be, for all his life. And all of you heard it,
and I heard it, and Eric heard it too." "Eric," she said. "Eric the Only, Eric the Singleton, you go out
now to make your Theft. And as a man you will no longer be Eric the Only,
you will be Eric the Eye. If he was
successful ... and if he lived. Now he knew about himself. It was fixed,
and for all time. It was a good name to bear, a fine personality to
have. And as he danced, he sang. I will show you the path to your home. The
noise stopped. But first, first comes the Theft. Now they were at it. Eric glanced at his uncle for support. Eric licked his
lips. You've chosen. The third category it
is. Then they would nod at each other and look back
to Eric's uncle. In a few minutes, he was asleep, snoring loudly. And all the way in the lead of the column,
Eric knew, was his uncle. "Eric the Eye," the women would murmur. Call him Only, then! Stay alert, will you? His uncle wasn't much gentler with him. "Eric the _Eye_!" "Eric the Eyebrow, Eric the Closed Eyelash,
you'll be known as, if you don't wake up! Besides, I have to fill you in on a
couple of things." He turned. His uncle had
become slightly odd recently. In all directions the burrows stretched. Even the Monsters lived in burrows, big as they were
reputed to be. his uncle demanded. Eric unhesitatingly pointed the right. The other half is having a feeling, a knack, for the right way to
go. You have that too. His uncle laughed. he pleaded. He had to remember that his uncle was an experienced captain, a
knowledgeable warrior. "When we get to the Monster burrows, you
go in. You go in alone, of course." Well, of course, Eric thought. He had to know that each one of them
had made his Theft--and proved himself when completely alone. Don't look up at first or
you're likely to freeze right where you are. Move fast." "You turn right as you go
in. You go in that one." After a while, the burrow will open out into a great big space, a real
big and real dark space. You
tell him who you are, your name. He'll do the rest." he asked in complete
amazement. His uncle grabbed at his arm and pulled him along. "Well, you've seen
Strangers before," he said with a weak laugh. "You know there are
others in the burrows besides Mankind. Eric certainly did. He was a member of Mankind. It wasn't just that Mankind lived in the front burrows, those
closest to the Monster larder. You were Mankind. Trading with them--well, you traded with them. Mating with them--well, of course you mated with them. The door to Monster territory. The floor vibrated slightly underfoot; there was a regular, rhythmic
gurgling. They laid it on the floor of
the corridor, very gently. Monster territory. Now it was his turn. His body twisted as he looked up, down, around, on both
sides. Now
Eric. Here you go, boy." His uncle checked him carefully and fondly, making certain that his new
loin straps were tight, that his knapsack and back-sling were both in
the right position on his shoulders. "Go make
your Theft, Eric," he whispered. "Come back a man." V
He was on the other side. He was in Monster territory. Move fast._
Eric turned. As he ran, he counted the steps to himself. It was everywhere; it
glowed so; it was white, white. Touch the wall with
your shoulder. It was almost too bright to see in. It was flat and very hard. So was
the wall. _Forty paces. Run and keep your
eyes down. Run. Keep touching the wall with your shoulder. Move fast. But keep your eyes down. Don't look up. He darted inside. The first, the
worst part was over. He wasn't out in the open any more. He had emerged into Monster territory. He was still alive. The worst was over. Monster territory. It lay behind him, bathed in its own peculiar light. Now. Now, when he was in a place of comparative safety. He
could take a chance. He turned, gingerly, fearfully. He looked. It couldn't be. He had to take another look behind, into the open. One more quick look. He was going to be Eric the Eye. He had to take another look. But guardedly, guardedly. Eric turned again, opening his eyes a little at a time. Even so, he almost did. He shut
his eyes quickly, waited, then opened them again. Distance. But there, fantastically far off, there was an end. And in between--once you could stand to look at it this much--in
between, there were objects. That thing over there. Eric recognized it. Well, that in itself was an achievement. Well and good, but this wasn't getting him anywhere. He didn't have a
normal Theft to make. His was third category. Monster souvenirs. Eric turned and faced the darkness again. Eric shook his head. It was--well, it was _wrong_. Too much. He didn't like this place. He was not sure he wanted to
know. He had arrived. "Eric the Only," Eric told him quickly. My people are Mankind." "Welcome, Eric the Only of Mankind. I am Arthur the Organizer." A fine man, your uncle, very
progressive. But so do you, my boy, so do you." "Very well. "Yes, of course. Strangers. "That's what I mean. "I'll tell you who needs them, Walter," he said. We need everybody in this thing, especially now." Suddenly, the floor shook under him. He almost fell. The floor swung to
their rhythm. he cried, turning to Arthur. It's a Monster, boy. They have a right, you know," he added with
a smile. "It's their larder. But not like this. "And this," he said aloud. "This structure we're in. "A piece of Monster furniture. Eric, this is Walter the Weapon-Seeker. This should be simple enough." Just a pinch at a time, no more. Then
spit on it and throw it. After you spit on it, get it out of your hands
fast. "Yes." "Your
uncle will know when to use it. He watched Arthur the Organizer add a mark to the flat board on which
many symbols were scratched. "Don't
mind Walter," he whispered. Now, suppose I refresh your memory about the way
back. Besides, I am Eric the Espier, Eric the Eye of Mankind. The snobs. The
stuck-up bastards. He bounced up and down, frozen with fear where he stood. But that was only because it would have
meant running directly toward the Monster. He must be about thirty, thirty-five paces from
it. Run silently. Run
for your life. Yes, by the Monster too. Then he leaped forward, smashing his shoulder into the door. Another try. Eric stepped back again, forcing himself not to
look up. Another leap, another bruising collision with the door. Eric put his hands on the door. He pushed. You may need it. A hissing, whistling sound. Time went by. Five hundred. No hissing, no whistling sounds. No suggestion of danger. It was over. His Theft was over. He was a man. His uncle. Where was his uncle? Where was the band? But that was another incredible thing! He'd been away for such a short time! Fantastic. It _was_ a piece of Monster furniture,
after all. Eric grinned. Meanwhile, he had work to do, things to find out. Now he could look around. A brief, bitter
battle. Some blood on the wall. No bodies, of course. No. Eric shivered. A warrior was not meant to be abroad without companions. It was awful to be alone. It was unthinkable. After a while, he broke
into a trot. He wanted to get home as soon as possible--to be among his
own kind again. Fortunately, he was an Eye. He knew the way back and sped desperately
along it without the slightest feeling of doubt. He wanted to be home, to be officially Eric the
Eye, to inform Mankind of what had happened so that a rescue and
searching party could be sent out for his uncle. No. He would be coming upon a sentry at any moment, and he
had no desire at all to have a spear flung through him. "Eric the Only," he called out, identifying himself with each step. "This is Eric the Only." "Eric the Eye. Oddly, there was no returning call of recognition. They were
staring at him, and he recognized them. "Eric the Eye," he repeated, puzzled. "Don't move," he warned. "Barney. John. Tie him
up. As he was jerked past, he recognized them. It was anger. "That's him," he said. Now we've got them all." "Well, you know what I
mean. Receiving no answer, he shrugged. "You know where to
put him. Eric the Only. Someone ran up to him. Harriet the History-Teller. she shrieked, driving the pin straight at his
eyes. she yelled. "He belongs to me most of all. So you'll just
have to wait your turn, Harriet, darling. "There won't be," the girl pouted. He rolled on his side dizzily. He knew where he was. He was a member of Mankind,
almost a full warrior. A warrior was always respected as a
warrior. "Oh, yes," he said. His uncle. It was a
painful business. "Uncle Thomas," Eric urged. When he finally located Eric, he smiled. It was a bad thing to do. "Hello, Eric," he mumbled. "I don't know. he asked in a low voice. Fighting against us. They
compared notes. I should
have remembered." Eric begged. A chief's a chief. Against the
only people who really want to hit back at the Monsters. Eric stared at his uncle, dimly understanding. Eric, they hit us real good. I was
down, fighting with my bare hands, and so was the rest of the band. I didn't see most of it. "I'd have been lucky not to." "Both of them. Good, good girls. And
they loved me. They really loved me." Eric almost sobbed himself. He'd been lucky. "Tell me," he asked his uncle. With pity. I don't blame you, Eric. But it's there. "We've been declared outlaws, Eric. Nine times out of ten, such a man was easy enough to identify. Do with him as you will, his people
would say. It was a great time, a joyous time,
a time of festival. He had to draw his shoulders up to his neck in a tight hunch
and tense the muscles of his arms and legs. He could think again. You didn't sympathize with roaches. You didn't identify with them. He was human. Then so had the others been. Human. He wanted to reach out and feel companionship, some
sort of companionship, even that of the dead. It was no use. No recollection of a man. Escape. That was it. He had to escape. Yes, escape. He knew there was not much time. But they wouldn't, he realized. He was no Roy the Runner, after all. He was dead and sewered by now. Eric doubted it. He didn't know. But that was the trouble. His uncle. Most other men in his condition, Eric judged, would have been dead by
now. "I
think I know a way out. No response. Mutter, mutter, mutter. Moan. Mutter, mutter. "Your wives," Eric said desperately. "Your wives. "My wives," said the thick voice. Eric whispered. Well, that was something. It gave them a chance. No, nothing. His uncle was his only hope. "This is Eric, Eric the Only. Do you remember me, Uncle? I went on the
Theft, Uncle Thomas, I went on the Theft with you. Third category. I did my Theft, I was successful, I made it. I did just what you told
me to do. Tell me, am I Eric the Eye?" Mutters, mumbles and moans. Are these other
tribes--"
That was it. "Other tribes. That _you_ should ask." Very unlucky. But
she taught your father a lot, and he was like her. More quiet. "Uncle Thomas, listen! I have an idea. I don't know what it
does, but I can't get at it. Eric groaned. "Listen to me. That's an order--a warrior's order!" His uncle nodded, completely docile. "Reach
in. Yes. Several of them. "_Hurry_," he demanded. That's an order,
too. Get it out fast. "A long
way off, their burrow is, a long way off. "Look at them," she jeered. Then spit on it and throw it. _After you spit on it, throw it fast. Let
me through." He watched it, hoping and waiting. Eric stopped hoping. Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming over and over again. It was Sarah. Suddenly, it fell apart. Then they all reacted at once. Then there was quiet. Meanwhile, he had his chance. No time to cut his bonds. Not here. "Uncle Thomas," he called. We have a chance now. Come
on, get up!" But he couldn't desert him. And, shattered as he was, also still his captain. he said again. That's an
order, a warrior's order. He didn't have the energy to rise. His
uncle was on his feet, staggering, but at least on his feet. Eric turned right. His uncle was a problem. Once they were in the outlying corridors, he felt better. He did the same
for his uncle. Just keep going. "Why?" Eric asked. Monster territory. Very well then. The doorway to Monster territory. He was Eric the Eye, after all, he told himself: it was
his business always to know the way. Without that, perhaps he
was still Eric the Only, still a boy and an initiate. No, he knew what
he was. He was Eric the Outlaw, nothing else. He was an outlaw, without a home and a people. In the end, he had thought of
nothing better than to hitch the man's arm up over his shoulder again
and to keep going in the direction of Monster territory. "Eric," he heard a weak voice say. "Yes, uncle?" I had--no right. Your life--after all--your life. You--my wives--the band. I'm sorry." "It was for a reason, Uncle
Thomas," he said. It wasn't just you. I wanted--wanted to be chief. Chief. He was dead. It didn't make any difference, he
found. The numbness in his mind remained. In the end, he shook himself, bent down and grabbed the body by the
shoulders. Walking backwards, he dragged it in the direction of Monster
territory. His uncle had been a heavy, well built man. In the end, Eric
omitted those last two lines. He was dead and sewered, and that was that. He was completely alone. Not for him. He would be free. He had to be free. Well, he couldn't commit a crime any more. Into this he would go. He wanted to face them and destroy them.