The Loafers of Refuge Read Free Page A

Arcadian paradise. The Loafers had got their name from a corrupt pronunciation of their own word for themselves. It fitted so closely with the colonists’ evaluation of the aborigines that it had been adopted and gone into common usage.
    Carey and Timmy found a seat near the warmth and sat quietly, listening to the beauty of the old, old songs. The other youths, both male and female, began to gather, and after a time the songs changed. The old tales were replaced by songs of instruction, some of them recited by the elders who were the governing body of the tribe. Most of what they had to say was repetition of what he had been taught and Carey found his attention wandering.
    “Do you think we’ll pass, Timmy?” he whispered.
    “If you do not it will be your own fault,” said Timmy, low voiced. “My father says you have the power, as much as any of us, and you have received the same instruction as the rest.”
    “Yes, but I’m not a Loafer. I wasn’t born to this, I don’t—”
    “Hush, foolish friend. The power is within all of us, as much a part of Doreen as Tharee, of you as my father. It must be brought out and strengthened, trained and put to use. Do not worry, you will be fine.”
    “I wish I could agree with you,” said Carey, and subsided.After a time the teachers finished and two young, nubile girls shed their cloaks and danced nude in the firelight, a dance as old as the songs, and as beautiful. Carey watched their whirling limbs, the happy faces, the shapely breasts peeping out of their nests of fine hair, and felt a strong surge of affection for these people. Somewhere in the past they had taken a separate path from that of Earthmen, setting their energies towards controlling their environment rather than changing it. They had not developed the prime ability that had brought mankind up from darkness: a capacity for dull work. In its place they had developed their minds. They were telepathic to a fair degree, and worked hard towards strengthening this quality in themselves. They had eliminated want as a factor in their lives and their time was their own, though the manner in which they used it was sometimes beyond his understanding.
    After the girls sat down Nyyub rose and said a few brief words, and the coaching session was over. Carey said goodbye to Timmy and struck out for home, walking alone through the crisp, cool air, alone and full of doubts.
    When the sun peeped over the edge of the purple world next morning it found Carey back in Loafertown.

CHAPTER II
    T HERE WERE SEVEN young Loafers standing by the dead ashes of last night’s fire, three female and four male. They were naked, as bare of covering or ornament as new-born babes, and shivering in the cold. Carey stripped and walked among them, his tanned brown body conspicuous among their hairy forms. It had snowed again in the night and the fresh white flakes lay on the ground in a thin blanket, unbearably cold to the feet.
    There were no adults present but Nyyub. The old Councillor nodded his greeting to Carey and smiled when he saw him shivering. There was a woven basket behind Nyyub, and from this he took a heavy, brightly-coloured robe—the one item an initiate was allowed to carry into the woods—and gave it to Carey. He draped it around his shoulders gratefully, waiting while Nyyub gave one to each person. They were of wirtl leaves, as always, but so closely and heavily woven that they were unusually warm.
    The sun was rising swiftly, and it was time to be gone. Nyyub paused a last moment, surveying the small group, and said, “You are today children, and you will leave our presence, turn your faces to the great woods, the bountiful woods, and in time you will come back, and you will be men and women. A human’s strength is in himself, and each person must find his own and put it to use. Now go forth, and wrestle with the spirit that is within you, and come back Controllers.”
    He lifted a hand in sharp dismissal, then turned and