The Ugly Little Boy by Isaac Asimov, Robert Silverberg Page B

be completely sure of that."
    "Swear it. Swear by the Goddess. -No." She Who Knows reached out and took Skyfire Face by one hand and Sweet Flower by the other. "Swear by the souls of this little boy and this little girl."
    "My word should be enough," Goddess Woman said.
    "You won't swear?"
    "My word is sufficient," said Goddess Woman. "I don't owe you any oaths. Not by the Goddess, not by Sweet Flower's little backside, not by anything. We're civilized people, She Who Knows. We don't kill children. That should be good enough for you."
    She Who Knows looked skeptical. But she gave ground and went away.
    Goddess Woman stood by herself, thinking.
    Sacrifice a child? Were they serious? Did they actually think it would serve any purpose? Could it possibly serve any purpose?
    Would the Goddess countenance such a thing? She tried to think it through. To yield up a little life, to return to the Goddess that which the Goddess had given-was that any way of convincing Her that She must help the People in this time of need?
    No. No. No. No. However Goddess Woman looked at it, she saw no sense in it.
    Where was Silver Cloud? Ah, over there, looking through Mammoth Rider's new batch of arrow points. Goddess Woman went over to him and drew him aside. In a low voice she said, "Tell me something, and tell me honestly. Are you planning to sacrifice a child when we get to the Place of Three Rivers?"
    "Have you lost your mind, Goddess Woman?"
    "She Who Knows says that some of the men are talking about it. That you've already decided on it and that I've given my agreement."
    "And have you given your agreement?" Silver Cloud asked.
    "Of course not."
    "Well, the rest of the story is just as true. Sacrifice a child, Goddess Woman? You couldn't possibly have believed that I would ever-"
    "I wasn't certain."
    "How can you say that?"
    "You canceled the Summer Festival, didn't you?"
    "What's wrong with you, Goddess Woman? You don't see any difference between putting off a festival and killing a child?"
    "There are those who'd say that one is just as wrong as the other."
    "Well, anyone who says something like that is crazy,"
    Silver Cloud retorted. "I have no such intentions, and you can tell She Who Knows that I-" He paused. His expression altered strangely. -"You don't think that it could possibly do us any good, do you? You aren't suggesting-"
    "No," said Goddess Woman. "Of course I don't. Now you sound like you've lost your mind. But don't be ridiculous. I'm not suggesting it in the slightest. I came over here to find out whether there was any truth to the rumor, that's all."
    "And now you know. None. None whatever."
    But there was an odd look in his eyes, still. Silver Cloud's outrage seemed to have softened and he had turned inward upon himself, somehow. Goddess Woman wasn't sure how to interpret that inward look. What could he be thinking of?
    Goddess above, he couldn't seriously be considering the idea of sacrificing a child all of a sudden, could he? Did I put something monstrous into his mind just now?
    No, she decided. No. That couldn't be it. She knew Silver Cloud well. He was tough, he was unswerving, he could be brutal-but not this. Not a child.
    "I want you to understand my position very clearly," Goddess Woman said with all the force she could muster. "There may very well be some men in this tribe who think it could be useful to offer a child to the Goddess, and for all I know, Silver Cloud, they might be able to succeed in talking you into it before we reach the Place of Three Rivers. But I won't allow it. I'm prepared to bring the heaviest curse of the Goddess down on any man who even proposes such a thing. It'll be the bear-curse, the darkest one of all. I'll cut him off from every shred of Her mercy without any hesitation. I'll-"
    "Easy, Goddess Woman. You're getting all worked up over nothing. Nobody's talking about sacrificing children.
    Nobody. When we get to the Place of Three Rivers we'll catch ourselves an ibex or a chamois or a