by Rick Shelley
It did occur to me that those prehistoric jungles might have contained threats that didn't leave such impressive remains-venomous bugs or slugs maybe, creatures that didn't leave huge piles of bones around. For that matter, a toxic fungus might prove to be more dangerous than all the carnivorous dinosaurs that ever lived.
"We can at least get down to the edge of the jungle," I said when I finally hoisted my saddle back on Electrum. "We're still a few hours short on sleep from last night."
The slope down to the jungle was longer than I thought, which meant that the jungle itself was also more massive than it had appeared from the ridge. We spent nearly three hours going down the slope, angling back and forth to keep from edging into a headlong rush, because the slope was also steeper than I had thought at first. There was a breeze coming out of the jungle, soft, light, but full of wet, earthy smells, bringing with it a strong hint of warmth that had no business existing just north of a plain where the temperatures had been flopping back and forth across the freezing mark at night. I saw huge ferns in the moderate distance, and a lot of lush trees that looked like they would be uncomfortable with nightly lows even thirty degrees above freezing.
There was a lot of movement inside the jungle, but at first I couldn't tell if any of it was caused by the local fauna or if it was just the movement of the wind through the branches. I saw those flying reptiles from the ridge, but it wasn't until we were well below the level of the jungle canopy that I saw anything else.
The first animals I saw on the ground weren't any of the giant dinosaurs that make such lovely movie monsters. The first dinosaurs I saw were about three feet tall, skinny and long-legged-maybe the Cretaceous version of the road runner. Beep, beep. They were running, and they looked as if they might be catching flying insects and eating them on the run. I stopped and watched them for a few minutes-from about a hundred yards away and up on the slope. Maybe they were full-grown, and maybe they were young, with Mama hanging by just out of sight. They ran around like kittens at play. But their long, narrow, tooth-filled snouts looked like they could take a decent hunk out of meat a lot bigger than a dragonfly.
"I hope they sleep soundly," I said when I started Electrum down the slope again. I toyed with the idea of setting up camp for the night outside the jungle, waiting until morning until I actually entered. If it hadn't been for the cruising pterodactyls (or whatever they were), I probably would have done just that, parked right at the base of the slope. But the flying reptiles seemed to be doing their hunting out on the verge of the jungle, where they could get some speed into their dives… and see anything out in the open.
Since I didn't know which was the frying pan and which was the fire, I decided to get under cover of the jungle, where I could at least escape long-distance observation.
It wasn't just warm when we reached the bottom of the valley and moved under the cover of the jungle, it was downright hot, maybe fifty degrees warmer at dusk inside the forest then it had been at noon on the ridge just south of the valley.
Dusk seemed to flick past in a matter of seconds inside the jungle. Sunset meant real darkness under a thick canopy. It was an exotic jungle, and only looked somewhat like a modern tropical rain forest. The soil seemed ridiculously poor and thin to be supporting so much, but I guess that's the way those rain forests in Africa and South America are too, everything actively tied up in the ecosystem, depending on very tight recycling to keep it all going. There was a lot of rock in this forest, some of it barely covered by a few inches of soil, some of it sticking up in large knobs and low ridges. To support themselves, the trees had to depend on extensive systems of roots, many of them almost entirely aboveground, and various kind of natural buttresses. Thick vines coiled around trunks and led from one tree to the next, locking vast sections of the jungle together in a massive web. There was relatively little ground cover or underbrush. The trees and vines hoarded most of the available resources.
About twenty minutes after we entered the jungle, I spotted a nook protected on three side by a hefty elbow-shaped rock and decided that it would make a dandy campsite, even if there was only one way out. That meant there was only one way in too, and I was more worried about large animals than I was about trolls or any other thinking enemies. I set aside part of the thornwood Geezer had been carrying to build a night-long fire, and used the rest to put up a half-assed barricade across the open side of the nook. Those thorns wouldn't even inconvenience many of the saurians I had read about, but maybe it would slow up the little ones that I had actually seen. And maybe the fire would keep all of them back… if it didn't attract them by its novelty. Dinosaurs weren't covered in any of the survival manuals or camping guides Dad had made me study while I was growing up. Maybe dinosaurs wouldn't know that animals are supposed to be frightened of fire.
Somehow, I just knew that I was going to have to do battle with at least one of the monsters of the Dinosaur Age before I got through the jungle. I was a certified Hero, on a Mission. There had to be a battle to justify the set.
I did sleep that night. I was still so exhausted from the treadmill plain that nothing could have kept me from getting some sleep. But my danger sense kept waking me. I heard crashing noises in the night, clear enough to assure me that there were some of the big dinosaurs around even though I hadn't seen any before sunset. I slept sitting up, with my back against the rock outcropping, both of my elf swords on my lap, my hands on the hilts. During one drowsy period, halfway between sleep and waking, I found myself wondering which variety of dinosaur I would have to face. The two likely candidates that came to mind (there weren't all that many that I knew by name) were Triceratops and Tyrannosaurus rex, both late Cretaceous types. T. rex would make for a more exciting spectator sport with its quick movements and huge mouth. Triceratops would be more difficult to dispatch, from the Hero's point of view. Those three big horns on its head and the big armored flap stretching back to cover the neck would be a bitch to get past. I knew that there were many other kinds of dangerous or dangerous-looking dinosaurs, but if the dangers were as personalized as the falling Wrigley Field seemed to indicate, I felt relatively sure that it would be one of the two I could call by name. I thought that Triceratops was supposed to be a vegetarian, but it was sure equipped to fight. Hell, rhinoceroses are vegetarians, but they're sure not house pets. If I lost to any of these dinosaurs, it wouldn't matter much to me if I was on the supper menu or not.
My horses didn't like the smells or the noises in the jungle. They were restless all night, sometimes waking me even when my danger sense wasn't active.
I got up as soon as there was any hint of light in the jungle and fixed breakfast. The horses settled down a little then. I don't know if they were lulled by the resumption of familiar routine or if they just knew that breakfast meant that we would soon be moving away from this place where they were so nervous.
There's no real drama to riding through a forest like that-if, all you have is the forest. With no underbrush and with all the tall trees reaching to get to the sunlight before they start to put out branches, you don't even have to worry much about bumping your head on anything. It's as safe and comfortable as riding down the center aisle of a cathedral. Sure, it's spooky with the light dimmed and tinted green, with the thick smells, but the jungle itself is just a collection of trees. It's the animals that provide the danger, and the sound effects. Dawn brought a lot of noise, especially from the canopy, from animals or birds I couldn't see or hope to identify by call… and by the occasional splattering of waste being dropped from high branches.
Compass out, I started us off toward the north again. There were individual trees that had to be detoured around, but it was nothing like the forest of thorn trees where I had no choice but to follow a narrow, twisting path. Here, there was more path than forest.
About midmorning, I saw my first large dinosaur, one of the really huge ones, in the shallow water at the edge of an even larger pond. The water wasn't in my way, and the dinosaur, a bronto
saur or something similar to my nonexpert eyes, showed no inclination to climb out of the water to investigate me. In size, even the brontosaur was nothing compared to the dragons I had faced close-up and personal.
The main event in the jungle didn't start until after noon.
In this corner, Gil Tyner, Hero and King. In the other corner, a whole damn family of Triceratops. The two little ones were each the size of Electrum. Mama was about three times as big and must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Or maybe Triceratops dinosaurs were habitually in a bad mood, like rhino.
"Hey, lady, let's make a deal," I called out. "You don't bother me and I won't bother you."
She lowered her head so those three giant spikes were aimed directly at me and charged about three steps. Electrum and Geezer went into reverse just as quickly. When Mama T stopped, so did my horses. The big Triceratops pawed the ground. The two small ones did the same. I started looking for the emergency exit. At the moment, those dinosaurs looked a lot less vulnerable than any of the full-grown dragons I had seen, though some of them could have eaten Mama T in one gulp.
I tugged on Electrum's reins to shift him toward the right. We started moving slowly, all of our eyes on the armored nasties. And they were watching us just as closely. One of the small ones did a mock charge, coming a little closer to us than Mama had. Then the other small one had to show its bravery.
Well, there comes a time for bravery, when you have to swallow all the fear and insanity and "do what a man has to do." But as far as I was concerned, that wasn't it. As soon as we had a little room, I put my heels to Electrum and we exercised the better part of valor. We ran like hell.
Maybe I was finally learning how to be a smart Hero.
It was getting dark inside the jungle when we reached the edge. Beyond, the ground started upward, gently at first, then more steeply to another ridge, perhaps twice as high as the one we had descended on the southern side of the jungle. I spotted a cozy-looking ledge about a third of the way up and decided that we would spend the night there. Twilight was almost wasted before we got up to the ledge and started to settle in for the night. I still had a little wood left after reclaiming most of what I had used for the picket fence in the jungle, and the air was still fairly comfortable up on the ledge, thanks to a warm upflow of air from the valley. I fixed supper and got ready for a good night's sleep. There didn't seem to be any need for the tent, so I just wrapped up in my blankets and stared into the sky. I felt pretty good after escaping another of the traps in my path. Put the white feathers on me and teach me to crow. I didn't give a damn. I knew there would be sufficient Hero work ahead. There was no need to take chances that didn't have to be taken.
I counted moons again as they appeared one after the other. The good feeling ended quickly when I saw that a sixth moon had joined the parade.
Time had taken another bite out of its own vitals. 16 – Her Central Temple
The horses needed time to sleep, to rest, and so did I-an eternity or more. But it looked like I might get it sooner than I wanted. There were six moons in the sky at the same time, each showing the familiar patterns of the one moon that should have been there. Together, six full moons reflected a lot of light, soft but bright, enough to read by-if I had had anything to read.
Six moons also meant that there was no chance that I would sleep that night. One more moon and it was all over, even without Milliways, and I didn't know how much time I had left, how much time everyone had left, before the celestial parade was complete. Moon number seven might not appear for two or three weeks, or it might show up tomorrow night. As far as I had been able to determine, there were no regular intervals between new arrivals in the sky. The central temple of the Great Earth Mother was still somewhere farther to the north, and I couldn't be sure how much farther, how many days-and nights-of riding it would take for me to reach it. I just had to keep plodding along as quickly as I could, hoping to get there in time. Averting total catastrophe when, or if, I got there was another problem, still too far off to take the primary position in my catalog of worries.
Sleep? Not only did I have to face that night without sleep, there was a chance that I would never sleep again, not until the entire universe came to an end.
But I had to rest, and I had to give Electrum and Geezer some time. Even if I was a veteran, certified Hero, I couldn't go on forever without stopping, and the horses were just horses. They would give what they had, but there were limits.
Six full moons in the sky. There would be plenty of light to ride all night once we started again. I figured that we had to rest for at least three hours before we resumed the almost hopeless quest. Three hours of fidgeting, staring at those moons.
"You'll just drop off sooner or later," I mumbled. "You can't go that long without sleep. It just isn't possible."
I shrugged. "Well, maybe I'll be able to doze in the saddle when I get that far gone." But the horses would probably be stumbling from exhaustion by then.
I once read-in some book of criticism I had been assigned to read in some literature class, I think-that the typical hero was always portrayed as a guy who was all balls and no brains… or words to that effect. The irony of that had to grate with me carrying around a spare set of the former, and maybe not using all of the latter.
"We've got to keep trying," I mumbled, pulling my blankets tighter around me. It was warm on that ledge above the jungle, but I couldn't get warm enough, even though I was sweating.
After a few minutes, I closed my eyes and pulled the bill of my Cubs cap down to shut out some of the glare of all those moons. Even though I couldn't blank my mind enough for sleep, I tried to steer my thoughts to pleasant memories-to times I had shared with Joy, not nearly enough of those; to epic drinking bouts with Lesh and Uncle Parthet; to long conversations with Parthet and Pregel; to all of the fun my father and I had while I was growing up, before I learned of the deception. But I had trouble holding on to happy memories. It wasn't a good time for nostalgia. It wasn't a good time for much of anything. All that was lacking for an atmosphere of total gloom and resignation was a soundtrack from Wagner. Maybe the Valkyries would ride to carry me to Valhalla or some such place when the end came. If even a place like Valhalla could survive the total destruction that threatened.
I had my bouts with wishful thinking in the night too. Perhaps the temple was just beyond the next ridge. Perhaps the Great Earth Mother would let bygones be bygones the way the Elflord of Xayber had-you know, shoulders to the wheel, let's all work together in this crisis, and all of the other cliches that come up when the shit is ready to hit the fan-so we could get right to the important work.
Work? Being a Hero was starting to sound a lot like being a prostitute.
Maybe, better yet, maybe I would wake up and find that it was all a dream, like that year of Dallas. Maybe I had snapped under the pressures of my senior year at Northwestern and all of my memories of the last forty-four months or so were merely delusions.
Yeah, and maybe I was just starting to crack up now, and all of creation would go down the drain because the only Hero with the balls to do the job didn't have the balls to do the job-to mix the literal and the figurative.
Somewhere in the night, I remembered what the Elflord of Xayber said that I should do if I felt reality starting to slip away from me. I reached down under my blankets with both hands and held on, trying to save whatever link to sanity I might still have. Four balls all in a bag, hold 'em and roll 'em and…
The elflord's advice didn't seem nearly as ludicrous as it had when he said it.
Exhaustion and worry, the feeling that I was on a hopeless and hopelessly quixotic quest, and loneliness-maybe I was flirting with the edge of insanity that night. Time swirled around and through me; "Where it stops, no one knows."
I had a moment of extreme lucidity and realized that I had been sitting there rocking back and forth the way some people do who have been locked up in mental institutions too long. I opened my eyes.
No such luck. I wasn't safe in a nut house. I was crouched on a ledge, partway up the side of a hill, somewhere in the uncharted regions beyond Fairy.
The sixth moon was directly overhead, so I got up and got ready to ride. Both horses whinnied their disapproval of the decision, but they didn't mutiny, so we continued up the slope, away from the anomalous Cretaceous jungle toward who could say what next terror.
There was no temple visible when we reached the crest. I didn't realize how fervently I had hoped for that until I felt the flood of disappointment when I looked north from the crest. North of us, there was another plain, not more than twenty feet below the ridge. There appeared to be a similar ridgeline several miles away. I couldn't be completely sure of the distance, not even with all of the moonlight.
"I hope this isn't another treadmill," I said as we moved down toward the plain. That would have defeated us without any doubt.
It wasn't a treadmill, but before we had gone fifty yards across the flat ground, I knew that there was something equally strange about it, something that slowed the horses almost as much as the treadmill had, something that annoyed and frightened them no end. We stopped and I dismounted. My feet sank in the ground to my ankles, but no farther. When I lifted my feet, they came up clean, but there was a sucking sort of pressure. I squatted. Electrum's legs were sunk in the stuff above his hoofs. I felt the ground. It was like a very soft, semiliquid rubber. It molded itself to hand or foot but dian't cling. Like gooey mud without the goo.
"Just a nuisance," I said softly. I got up to try to reassure the horses. I stroked their heads and talked easily to them. "I know, it's a drain on energy, and you don't have all that much pep left. We'll just have to put up with it for now. This plain doesn't look all that wide. Maybe we can be out of this stuff by dawn."