Shame of Man by Piers Anthony
Hue walked away from the shelters of the band, seeking his own counsel. The females knew better than to follow him. They thought he was just going out far enough to defecate without having the smell bother the camp. And he did that, but it was incidental. He could not get the big apes out of his mind. He could not decide how to relate to them.
He passed a female who had made herself a separate shelter somewhat apart from the others. This was Ann, who belonged to the band because she had been born in it, but who made others uncomfortable because she had a defect of her fur. It was uncommonly thin, and parts of her torso looked almost bare. This meant that she had to wear a blanket much of the time, not just when the air was cold. She got cold much sooner than others did, though in the heat of day she did well enough. She was, overall, a rather pitiful figure.
Hue paused, scratching at a flea. Ann looked almost as different from regular folk as the big apes did. They were huge but fully furred; she was human in size and body, but awkwardly naked. He did not want to hunt either type.
The woman was about Hue's own age. He hadn't really been aware of her as a child, but thought she had been around. That might be because others teased her about her deformity, so she had mostly remained apart, always on the fringe of the group. So he knew of her, but had never really interacted with her. Yet now he realized that he felt a slight affinity, because he, too, was different, in his fashion: he wielded his club and stone with the wrong hand. Had he not had friends who didn't care about that, and had he not become a dominant male, he could have suffered ridicule or exclusion, as this woman had. He had a notion how she felt.
Ann remained still, neither fleeing him nor reacting to him, apart from watching him. She was wary of other members of the band, who might hurt her if she annoyed them. But perhaps she knew that Hue did not hurt people just because he was able to. So she waited to see what he wanted with her, not knowing that he had not sought her. He had just happened to take the path by which she camped.
He became aware of something else. Ann was not scratching. That was another oddity. He thought back, and realized that he could not remember ever seeing her scratch. Didn't the fleas bother her, as they did all normal folk? The only times a regular person wasn't scratching was when he was hunting and had to be motionless lest he alert the nearby prey, and when he was asleep—and many did scratch in their sleep. The fleas were a perpetual nuisance. The members of the band had to spend much time grooming themselves and others, picking out the fleas and eating them.
He peered more closely at her, in the dusk. He could see the surface of her skin clearly in many places, because of her defect. And discovered to his surprise that she didn't have fleas. Apparently they didn't like her taste.
Then, realizing that Ann might have misunderstood his attention, thinking he wanted to mate with her, he tried to make it right. He dug a finger into the bag he wore tied around his body, where he had stored a smoked piece of panda meat, a reserve for the time he might be on a long hunt and unable to forage when hungry. He dug it out and gave it to her.
Ann accepted it eagerly. She seldom got to eat meat. But she hesitated, holding it before her mouth. Was he giving it for sex? Actually he could have sex from her without any gift, because he was a grown male, but often men did feed women at the same time. So his gesture had been taken the opposite way intended.
Hue clarified the matter the simplest way: he turned from her and walked on down the path. He had peered closely at her only because of his curiosity about her odd lack of scratching, and had given the meat as much from compassion as interest. He was glad that he had no such defect of fur.
He returned to the camp, his mind still not settled. Now Fae approached him intellectually. “Hue sad,” she said. “Say Fae.”
To this approach he was receptive. “Big ape yes,” he said. “Joe say yes. Ape tall man yes. Ape hunt no. Ape eat bamboo. Ape touch Hue head hand. Ape hurt Hue no. Hue hunt ape no.”
Fae considered that, but did not comment. Instead she changed the subject by spreading her legs and drawing him into her. This time he was sufficiently interested to complete the act. His discussion and clarification of the issue had eased his mind.
The others wanted to hunt and kill the big apes. Hue did not. He felt a kind of camaraderie with the huge creatures, now that he had learned that they were harmless to his kind. How could he hunt them, as if they were mere animals?
Next day the entire band went out in pursuit of the huge apes. Hue went along, of course, but remained doubtful. He almost hoped that they would not find the creatures; that the apes had fled to some distant place and would not be seen again. But that was not to be. They quickly found the tracks, and followed them to the place where the giants were grazing on bamboo.
The members of the band were duly amazed and impressed. They had never seen creatures like these before.
But there was something else there: two other people. “Bub Sis!” Hue said, recognizing them. “Tell Bub band.”
Bil nodded grimly. The two were clearly spying in local territory, and would bring their band to hunt the apes, stealing what belonged to the local band. Perhaps they had been following the hunting party before, so had learned of the apes through no virtue of their own.
This had been planned as an exploratory excursion, to show off the discovery to the women and children. But now it became serious. “Hunt ape,” Joe said. “Now.” He meant that they could do it before Bub's band got here. Of course Bub's band would come anyway and poach some of the apes, but at least there would be good meat here.
“No,” Hue said. “Ape hunt no.”
Bil looked at him. “Why no?”
“Ape harm band no,” Hue explained. But then he stumbled over a concept that the words were not adequate to address. How could he say that it was wrong to hunt a creature merely because it represented no threat to them? The rabbits were no threat, the pandas weren't, in fact most of what they killed and ate were not threats. It was clear that the other people did not share the affinity he felt for the apes.
Bil looked at Rae, who was with them today.
“Hunt ape,” Rae said.
“Hunt ape yes,” Bil decided. “Now.”
But Hue couldn't do it. “No,” he said.
Bil looked at him, not understanding. “Band yes,” he pointed out reasonably enough. The consensus had been achieved; all but Hue wanted to hunt the apes.
“Hue no,” Hue said, feeling bad. “Hunt animals yes, apes no.” He wished he could get his feeling across to them, but he hardly understood it himself.
“Band hunt,” Bil said. It was clear that the others agreed: once the decision was made, all of them should participate. What was the matter with Hue? For one thing, they normally used a formation of four or five when hunting big game: one ahead to block its escape, two on the sides to close it in, and one or two to pursue it. Otherwise it would break out on the sector not guarded, and they could lose it, or have a long chase. They needed Hue.
But still he could not. “Ape no,” he repeated.
To make it worse, Bub had evidently been listening. Now he came forward, his hands lifted without weapon, the posture of negotiation. The others lifted their spears, not liking this; it was bad form to let an enemy or outsider see dissension in the band. But it was worse form to attack an outsider who came in peace, though no outsider was to be trusted. It was obvious that the home band was superior to all others, but the others had to be tolerated if they didn't infringe or attack.
Bub approached, and behind him came his disreputable sister, her hands also raised though of course it didn't matter because she was only female. She gave Hue a straight look, recognizing him. The two of them had shared shelter in a storm once, so of course they had mated, because that was the way of any man with any woman. Her look suggested that she would like to do it again, and that the event gave her some kind of claim on him. Hue was disgusted, because he didn't even like her. Yet she had undeniable appeal in her strangeness. Her chest
Fae sniffed behind him. She didn't like the approach of the alien female either. He glanced back at her. Fae's chest was beginning to swell, indicating that it anticipated nursing. That meant that she had a baby starting in her. Perhaps that was why his interest in her was slowing; he hadn't been conscious of the swelling before, because it had happened slowly, but now he realized its significance. He would soon have to find another female for sex, because those with babies weren't much good. Breasted women were more interested in their nurslings than in their mates.
Then he saw that Fae was looking past him, at Bub. She was intrigued by the enemy male? Worse yet!
Joe addressed the intruder. “Want?” he demanded.
“Bad hunt,” Bub said, glancing at Hue. “Man no.” He knew their predicament; without one of the members of their hunting party, they could suffer loss of the prey, or even the death of one of more of their members. This was serious business.
Joe hefted his spear angrily. “Foreigner no,” he said. The word foreigner had multiple meanings, among them distance, disapproval, and fecal matter. He was saying that it was none of Bub's business.
But Bub did not take offense. “Bub hunt yes,” he said. “Share meat.” He was offering to participate in the hunt, if they let him have some of what they killed. Such deals had been made before, on occasion; it was better than taking the risk of messing it up. The usual arrangement was for the stranger to be allowed to take whatever he could carry away in one haul, if the kill was big enough. In this case it would be, because of the size of the ape.
Joe was about to decline. But Bil was more calculating. He glanced at Hue. “Hue no?” he asked.
Hue was sickened by the whole business. If he didn't participate in the hunt, Bub would take his place and share the meat. They were forcing the issue. But he still was not willing to hunt the ape. “Hue no.”
Bil looked at Rae. “Bub yes?”
Rae hesitated. He had always been Hue's closest friend, and his sister was Hue's mate. But he wanted to hunt the ape. “Yes.”
Bil asked Joe. “Bub yes?”
Joe had always acceded to Bil's advice. With bad grace he agreed. “Yes.”
Bil looked at Bub. “Yes,” he said, completing the consensus.
Hue had been circumvented. With Bub to take his place in the hunt, they didn't need him.
But the decision was more significant than that. He had been shamed before the band. He had hoped to prevent the hunt, saving the ape; he had succeeded only in isolating himself from his band. There had always been a covert question, because of his wrong hand; now he had a wrong attitude, exacerbating his difference. The band's tolerance went only so far.
As a shamed man, he would have difficulty remaining with the band. The others probably thought it was cowardice: that he was simply afraid to face the huge apes. He was unable to explain the distinction between fear and conscience. He did not want to harm the apes because he was not afraid of them; they were harmless, and too much like man himself.
Sis approached him. She remained interested, despite his bad status. That stirred his emotions further. He didn't like her, yet he found her sexually appealing. He was tempted to copulate with her and then never see her again. But instead he turned his back on her.
The others set about the hunt. Soon they were gone, pursuing the moving apes. The remainder of the band did not follow; they would only get in the way.
Hue walked away from the group. He did not know where he was going, but he had to go. Somewhere else.
Fae watched him, but did not move. She knew how he had disgraced himself, and she did not want to be a part of it. Sis watched him, and almost seemed to start after him, but then must have remembered her brother on the hunt, and stayed put. Hue knew that no one would come with him, because no one felt as he did. To them, he had done a crazy thing.
Then there was a cry. “Hue!”
It was Lee, his little sister's friend. She had wanted his favor, and now thought she had found a way to achieve it.
He paused, letting her catch up. She was still too young to mate with, unless the need were great, but he appreciated her support. Should he reject her? But she would be tainted, now, because she had openly followed him; if she returned to the band, others would hold that against her. The damage had already been done.
So he resumed walking, taking no overt notice of her. That meant she could follow if she chose, but had no promise of reward. Perhaps she would give it up.
But she did not. She stayed with him, silently. Finally, far from the camp, he turned to her. “Lee hunt ape no?” He was asking her how she felt about the issue that had separated him from the band. Of course as a female she would not actually hunt anything, for that was man's prerogative.
“Hue hunt ape no, Lee hunt ape no,” she replied.
So it wasn't that she had sympathy for the apes, but that she was ready to accept Hue's limits as her own. That would do.
They were entering the territory of a mountain. Hue knew that a hostile band governed the river region at the base, all the way up to the high pass to the region beyond, so unless he wanted to try to join that band, he would have to try to go another way. That would mean a difficult climb, and a problem foraging. But it had to be. Because the first thing the hostile band would do was to take Lee and make her the mate of one of their males. She would have no choice, unless Hue fought for her and won, and then he would have to mate with her himself. Since he wanted neither to mate with her nor to see her mated involuntarily to another, he had to avoid that band. She was his sister's friend, and needed to be protected.
The climb was arduous. They got beyond the bamboo trees, where the cold rocky face of the mountain ascended toward the sky. Hue looked at that, and considered the lateness of the day, and elected to spend the night in the forest. So they foraged, finding good bamboo sprouts and a number of fat bugs to eat. Then they made a shelter of bamboo sticks, for it was not good to sleep exposed. Hue made it so that a line of sharp sticks pointed outward, making it difficult for any large creature to attack. Then the two of them crawled inside, and he pulled the door into place, completing their protection.
As he lay down, tired, Lee snuggled close to him. She wanted to mate, as usual. He ignored her and went to sleep.
In the morning they resumed their climb. But the mountain fought them. There seemed to be only one place to crest it, and the route to that was so steep that they had to flatten out and crawl on their furry bellies. Lee, lighter, was better able to do it, so she led the way. She had always liked climbing, he remembered, and was good at it.
But then at a particularly steep place a rock suddenly pulled loose in her hand. Caught by surprise, she cried out and fell back, starting to slide down the steep face. Hue grabbed for her, caught her foot, and hauled her back to safety—but in the process lost his own perch and started rolling helplessly down the slope. He couldn't catch on to anything; all the rocks around him were rolling too. He heard Lee's scream. Then his head struck something, and he faded into a flare of pain.
Such was the fate of those who deserted their band. He had known it, yet foolishly done it anyway.
Some may have demurred, but the evidence suggests that Homo erectus did hunt Gigantopithecus to extinction. Fossil deposits in southern China and north Vietnam show them together, and though Upright Man continued to be in the area, the giant ape did not. Mankind, in all his forms, was a devastatingly effective hunter.
The irony, perhaps, was that it would have been in mankind's interest to preserve the huge ape. But those who might have understood this lacked the finesse of speech to handle complex concepts like conscience or conservation. The actual vocabulary may have been considerable, with a word for every animal, object, and thing, but syntax was primitive. The average person was practical on the immediate level: here is walking meat, how
CHAPTER 6
* * *
FLOOD
Variation and mutations are constant. Variation within a narrow range is harmless; it doesn't matter too much whether a person's hair is light brown or dark brown, though geography and climate can make one preferable. Mutations are another matter; the great majority—perhaps in excess of 99 percent—are bad for survival, and those creatures unfortunate enough to have them are doomed. So a rat with a defective gene for fur may not survive; that fur is needed for warmth and protection against the direct radiation of the sun. This was surely true for mankind too, until a combination of unusual circumstances abruptly changed the survival qualities of nakedness.
Actually only one small segment of the species was affected, at first: the one that had remained at, or returned to, the region of the Garden of Eden. But it was no longer a garden. Geographic and climatic shifts had made it a basin that held much of the water flowing into it. It had become Lake Victoria. Most tribes of mankind shunned it, but one seemingly defective branch had no choice, being trapped there by mountains and the hostility of the neighboring tribes. This tribe learned not to escape the flood, but to live with it, being shaped by it. The water folk.