Rite of Passage

The Quest decided upon was this: it seems that many miles away — or so the story had come to them in the kingdom — there was a small cavern in which lived a moderate-sized ogre with a fine large treasure, big enough to handle the kingdom’s budget problem for some years to come. It was agreed that whichever of the two boys could bring the treasure home where it belonged would have proved to the satisfaction of everybody his overwhelming right to be king.

At this point the story was interrupted. One of the three crewmen stuck his head up through the stairwell and said, “We’re all tight, George. Miles says we can leave any time now.”

George said to me, “Strap yourself in there,” and pushed the button that locked himself into his own seat. Humming slightly to himself, he rapped a switch with the back of his hand and rumbled, “Ten seconds to drop. Mind your stomachs.”

In ten seconds, the rim bars pulled back and we dropped slowly into our tube and then out of the Ship. I was leaving home for the first time. Geo Quad, even at its worst, was still “Us” rather than “Them.” As we dropped into the tube, the dome went opaque around us and lights came on. There was none of the stomachupsetting moment of transition as we shifted from the artificial gravity of the Ship to the artificial gravity of the scoutship of which George had just warned us, though there might have been. Which meant that whatever else he might be, this George creature was a relatively effective pilot.

I still didn’t know how to take him. I have that problem when I first meet people — I have to get used to them slowly. For the moment, too young for me or not, I was content to have him go on with his story, because it gave me something to think about instead of Grainau and whatever I would find there.

He punched buttons for a minute, and then said, “Well, that ought to hold us for awhile. Now where was I?”

“The ogre and the treasure.”

“Oh, yes,” he said, and continued with his story:

Well, the two young men set off the very next morning, when the sun was up and the air was warm. Sam, intelligent as always, had loaded food and supplies into a knapsack and put it on his back, and buckled a great sword about his waist. Ned took nothing — too heavy, you know — but simply put his red cap on his head and walked on down the road, whistling. Everybody in the kingdom came down to the road to wave and see them off. They waved until the boys were around the first bend in the road, and then, like sensible folk, they all went home to breakfast.

Sam was loaded so heavily that he couldn’t walk as fast as his dear brother, and Ned was soon out of sight ahead of him, without even the sound of his whistle to mark him. This didn’t seriously bother Bright Sam, because he was sure that preparation and foresight would in the end more than make up for Ned’s initial brisk pace. When he got hungry, not having any food would slow him down.

But Sam walked a long time, day and night, and never saw his brother. Then he came on the skinniest man he’d ever seen, sitting by a great pile of animal bones.

“Hello,” Sam said. “I’m looking for an ogre who lives in a cave and owns a treasure. Do you know where I can find him?”

At the question, the man began to cry. Sam asked him what the trouble was, since sour or not, he hated to see people cry. The man said, “A young fellow stopped a day or two ago and asked me the same question exactly. And he brought nothing but trouble on me. I had a flock of sheep, and fine ones, too, and I was roasting one for my dinner when he stopped, and he was such a nice, pleasant fellow that I asked him to eat with me. He was still hungry after the first sheep, so I killed another, and then another, and then another. He was so friendly and charming, and so grateful, that I never noticed until he had gone that he had eaten every last one of my animals. Now I have nothing at all. And I’m starting to get hungry myself.”

Sam said, “If you will tell me where the ogre lives I will give you some of the food that I have with me.”

The man said, “Give me some of your food and I will tell you just what I told that other young fellow.”

So Sam gave him food and when the hungry man was done eating, he said, “The answer is that I don’t know. I don’t have any truck with ogres. I -just mind my own business.”

Sam went on down the road with his pack a little lighter than before. He walked a long time, day and night, and never saw his brother. Then he came on a little castle in which lived a princess — well, perhaps not a princess as most people reckon it, but since she lived there alone there wasn’t a single person to say she wasn’t. That is how royal families are founded.

This little castle was being besieged by a very rude and unpleasant giant. As a passing courtesy, Sam drew his sword and slew the giant, lopping off his great hairy head. The princess, and pretty indeed she was, came out of her castle and thanked him.