by John Varley
Standing on Hornpipe's back, steadying herself with a hand on Cirocco's shoulder, Gaby lobbed the bladderfruit in a high arc that brought it down in the center of the bowl.
The results were dramatic. Nine lines quickly diverged from the point of impact. There were humps at the heads of the lines and shallow depressions behind them that quickly filled in with sand. The humps moved as swiftly as cartoon gophers under a suburban lawn. In a few seconds there was no sign they had been there.
Cirocco had risen to her knees when the missile hit the sand. Now she slumped back to a sitting position.
"What do you want to do?" she asked. "Head on west to Thea?"
"No. I'm sure you recall who wanted to do this and who wanted to stay home."
"And drink," Cirocco added.
Gaby ignored it. "I'd look silly advising you to skip Tethys after all the time I spent convincing you to come here at all. Let's see what we can do."
Cirocco sighed. "Whatever you say. But look out, everybody. I want the humans watching the air. Titanides, keep an eye on the ground. You can usually see a spurt of sand before the wraiths come out onto the surface."
When Robin was nine, she read a book which had made a lasting impression on her. It was about an old fisherwoman who, alone in a small boat, hooked a huge fish and battled it for days, through storms and high seas. It was not so much the struggle with the fish that had frightened her. It was the evocation of the sea: deep, cold, dark, and unforgiving.
She thought it odd that she had not recalled the book while crossing Nox or Twilight. It seemed even stranger that she would think of it now, in broad daylight, crossing the arid desert. Yet the sand was a sea. It undulated in broad waves. In the distance, some atmospheric effect made it shimmer like glass. And beneath its surface were monsters more terrible than the old woman's fish.
"I just thought of something," Cirocco said. She was riding alone on Hornpipe, followed by Robin on Hautbois and Chris and Gaby on Valiha. "We should have gone north to the road, then back west to the cable. It would have been a shorter distance over dry sand."
Robin recalled the map Cirocco had drawn. "But we would have spent more time covering flat ground," she said.
"That's true. But somehow I'm more worried about wraiths than buzz bombs."
Robin did not say it, but she was, too. Though she was supposed to be scanning the sky, her eyes were constantly drawn to Hautbois's hooves as they kicked up the loose grains of sand. She could not understand how the Titanide could bear it. Her own toes curled in her boots in sympathetic horror. Any moment now some hideous mouth would appear and engulf the Titanide's forelegs. Except Cirocco had said the wraiths had no mouths, eating by directly ingesting through their crystalline carapaces. They did not even have faces...
"Do you want to go back and do that?" Gaby called out.
"I don't think so. We're about halfway there."
"Yeah, but we know there aren't any wraiths back-"
As soon as Gaby stopped shouting, Robin's heightened awareness told her that something was wrong. She had a pretty good idea of what Gaby must have seen, and it took only a few seconds of scanning the near side of the five-meter dune behind them to find the telltale grooves in the sand, deep in front, trailing away like the tail of a comet. She saw a dozen of them, then realized that was only one of five or six groups.
There was no need to raise an alarm. Robin saw Cirocco standing on Hornpipe, facing backward. Valiha increased her pace until she was beside Hautbois and Robin. Gaby was passing bladderfruit to Chris and Valiha.
"Hand me one of those," Hautbois said, and Robin did, feeling the Titanide increase her pace. For the first time on a Titanide she felt some of the bouncing associated with horseback riding.
"Hold your fire for now," Gaby said. "That's as fast as they can move, and we're staying ahead of them easily."
"That's easy for you to say," Valiha said. Her mottled yellow skin glistened with foamy sweat.
"It's time to switch," Hautbois said. "Valiha, give me Gaby for a while. Robin, you move to the front." Robin did as she was told, noting that she would be sandwiched between Hautbois and Gaby and, though it was painful to admit it, not objecting at all. The unseen wraiths frightened her more than anything she had encountered in Gaea.
"Just a second," Gaby said. Ignoring her own order, she turned around and lobbed a bladderfruit into the path of one approaching group of wraiths. They sensed it while still fifty meters away. Some swung wide to avoid the poisonous area, while others vanished entirely.
"That's got them," Gaby said with satisfaction as she landed on Hautbois's back. She settled in behind Robin. "The ones that disappeared went deeper in the sand, but that slows them down a lot. They can only move at top speed near the surface, where the sand is looser." Robin looked back again and saw that the ones which had swung wide were only now resuming the chase, far behind the vanguard.
"How about it, friends?" Cirocco said, addressing the Titanides. "Can you keep up this pace until we reach the cable?"
"It shouldn't be any problem," Hornpipe assured her.
"Then we're all right," Gaby said. "Rocky, you'd better throw a small bomb ahead of us every few minutes. That ought to scatter any ambushes."
"Will do. Robin, Chris, stop looking at the ground!"
Robin forced herself to look at the sky, still painfully clear and fortunately empty of buzz bombs. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done. It could not have been harder if her own feet were touching the hated sea of sand; like a backseat driver reaching for an imaginary brake, she found herself lifting her feet in an effort to make Hautbois step more carefully.
The group had crested a dune and was starting down the other side when Cirocco called out a warning.
"Hard right, people. Hang on!"
Robin put her arms around Hautbois's trunk as the Titanide dug her hooves into the sand, heeling over almost forty-five degrees as she turned. The ride was definitely getting bumpier as Hautbois began to tire. Robin caught a glimpse of a commotion at the foot of the dune, saw several of the telltale trails as wraiths fled from the bladderfuit that had suddenly exploded in their midst. A stream of water came from behind her, angled left, sizzled when it hit. There was a fountain of sand. For a moment a supple insubstantial tentacle writhed in the air. Where the water touched it, the thing hissed and shed glass scales that turned slowly in the low gravity. Robin freed one hand and took the butt of her water pistol in the other, peering around Hautbois's broad shoulder. She squeezed the trigger and sprayed what turned out to be a harmless patch of desert.
"Save it," Gaby cautioned. Robin nodded quickly, mortified that the gun was shaking in her hand. She hoped Gaby couldn't see it. Gaby's voice was calm and controlled and made Robin feel ten years old.
The Titanides had made a wide circle around the nest of wraiths Cirocco had exposed; now they were back on course for the Tethys cable. Robin remembered to look up at the sky, saw nothing, looked back at the sand, once more forced herself to look up. She did that for an hour while the cable base grew no closer. Finally she asked Gaby how long they had been running.
"About ten minutes," she said, and looked behind them again. When she turned back, she was frowning. On the crest of a dune five or six hundred meters to the rear Robin thought she saw a wraith track. It paralleled the imprints of the Titanides' hooves.
"They're still back there, Rocky."
The Wizard looked, frowned, then shrugged.
"So? They can't catch us if we keep going."
"I know. They must know that, too. So why do they keep coming?"
Cirocco frowned again, and Robin didn't like that. Eventually Gaby reported she could no longer see the pursuers. Though the Titanides were tired, they agreed not to slacken their pace until the cable was reached.
Hautbois topped the final giant dune before the cable. Ahead Robin could see the land rising unbroken. She estimated the distance to the welcoming darkness between the strands at about a kilometer
.
"Buzz bomb to the right," Chris called out. "Don't go down yet! It's still a long way off." Robin found it, banking around the eastern side of the cable, perhaps a thousand meters high.
"Back over the dune," Cirocco ordered. "I don't think it's seen us yet."
Hautbois wheeled, and in a few seconds the seven of them were prone together on the far side.
All of them but Robin.
"Get down, you silly idiot! What's the matter with you?"
She was on her knees, leaning forward, her hands almost touching the sand.
She could not make them move. The sand seemed to writhe before her eyes. She could not make herself reach out and touch its loathsome heat, could not press her belly to it and await the arrival of the wraiths.
A great weight fell on her, and she cried out. She screamed when she felt the sand press against her, then began to vomit.
"That's good," Hautbois said, easing up enough to allow Robin to turn her head. "I wish I'd thought of that. All that moisture will keep them away."
Moisture, moisture ... Robin heard only that word on a conscious level and quickly blocked everything but that thought. The sand was wet. Wet would keep the monsters away. Sweat, weep, spit, vomit ... any of those things were suddenly the smart thing to do. She hugged the sand and thought about how wonderfully wet it was.
"What's the matter? Is she having a seizure?" Cirocco called out.
"I think so," Hautbois said. "I'll take care of her."
"Just keep her down. It still may not see us."
Robin heard the sound of a buzz bomb high and far away. She turned her head enough to see it come into sight over the edge of the dune, still at altitude. It turned sharply, showing a swept-wing profile, and began to come toward them.
"That's that," Cirocco said. "Everyone stay low. It's not at a good angle to hurt us."
They watched the buzz bomb in growing doubt until it became clear that the creature was not going to make a low pass. It cruised over them at five or six hundred meters, going much more slowly than Robin remembered from the last time.
"That thing looks odd," Gaby said, daring to sit up a little.
"Never mind that," Cirocco said, standing to scan the air. "It's going to come back around. Gaby, keep a watch for more, and the rest of you start digging. I'd like a wide hole two meters deep, but I'd settle for one. It's going to be tough in this sand. Throw some water around before you dig. Oh, and if anyone has even the slightest urge to pee, do it now, don't be shy. It's useless in your bladder." Cirocco stopped talking when she saw the look on Robin's face and realized the condition of the younger woman's pants was not intentional.
Robin had disgraced herself. She thanked the Great Mother that none of her sisters was here to see it, but it was small consolation. These six were her sisters now, for the duration of the trip and probably beyond.
But things are never so bad they cannot get worse. Robin appreciated the truth of that principle when she tried to move and found she could not. Hautbois's statement-certainly meant as a facesaving out for Robin-had come true; she was paralyzed.
For a moment she thought she would surely lose her mind. She was sprawled bonelessly, face down, on the hateful sands of Tethys, a surface she feared so much that she had possibly betrayed the whole group by her inability to touch it. But instead of insanity, she achieved a fatalistic detachment. Mindless, serene, she heard the sounds of frenzied activity and understood little of it. It was no longer important if a wraith emerged beneath her and tore her apart. There were grains of sand and the taste of vomit in her mouth. She felt a trickle of sweat run down her nose. She could see a few meters of sand and her own arm extended across it. She listened.
Cirocco: "Since they can't get too close to us, they have to use some kind of medium-range weapon. They used to chunk rocks, but in the last ten years they've used some kind of spear thrower or bow and arrow."
Chris: "That sounds bad. We're not going to get much cover in this sand."
Cirocco: "It's good and bad. They were pretty mean shots with those rocks. They're built ... well, you haven't seen them, and they're hard to describe, but they were very good at throwing rocks. But they're basically cowardly, and they had to get in pretty close to throw them. With the arrows they can stand farther back."
Hautbois: "Now tell us the bad news, Rocky."
Cirocco: "That's it. The good news is that they're lousy shots with arrows. They can't aim them. But they'd rather stay back and take potshots."
Gaby: "They make up for it by shooting a lot of arrows."
Hautbois: "I knew there'd be something."
There was the familiar staccato roar of a buzz bomb some distance away.
Gaby: "I still say there's something weird about that creature. I can't make it out, but it looks like a swelling on its back."
Hornpipe: "I see it, too."
Cirocco: "Your eyes are better than mine."
For a time there were just the sounds of breathing and occasionally the rustle of someone crawling over sand. Once Robin felt someone brush against her leg. Then Hornpipe shouted a warning. Something fell to the sand in Robin's range of vision. She had been staring at her thumbnail; now she shifted her eyes and looked at the intruder. It was a thin shaft of glass, half a meter long. One end was notched, the other buried in the sand.
"Anybody hit?" It was Cirocco's voice. There were a few negative replies. "They just shot those in the air. They must be behind that dune. In a while they'll get up the nerve to look over it, and they'll get a little more accurate. Get your slingshots ready."
Shortly after that Robin heard the twang of the Titanides' weapons.
Chris: "I think you hit that one, Valiha. Oops! Those were closer."
Cirocco: "Damn it, look at Robin. Can't we do anything about that? It must be hellish."
Robin had heard the last flight of arrows hitting the sand, felt a few grains rain on her legs. It was not a matter of importance. She heard more slitherings, and a hand grasped the arrow she had been looking at, pulled it out, and tossed it away. Gaby's face appeared, a few centimeters from her own.
"How are you making it, kid?" She took Robin's hand and squeezed it, then stroked her cheek. "Would it be easier if you could see things better? I can't think of any way to protect you, or I'd use it for all of us."
"No," Robin answered, from a great distance.
"I wish ... shit." Gaby hit the ground with her fist. "I feel helpless. I can imagine how you must feel." When Robin made no answer, she leaned close again.
"Listen, do you mind if I take your gun for a while?"
"I don't mind."
"Do you have any of those rocket slugs left? With the explosive tips?"
"Three clips."
"I'll need them, too. I'm going to try to pot a buzz bomb if it ever gets down low enough. You just hang on and try not to think of it. We're going to make a dash for the cable pretty soon."
"I'm all right," Robin said, but Gaby was gone.
"And I'll take you," Hautbois said, from behind her. She felt the Titanide's hand come around her and briefly touch her cheek, which was wet. "Do not begrudge the tears, little one. Not only is it good for the soul, but every drop protects us all."
31 Heat Lightning
"Just how smart do you think those things are?" Chris asked, watching the lone buzz bomb bank to the left for another high circling pass.
Gaby looked at it and scowled.
"It never pays to underestimate the intelligence of anything you meet in Gaea. A good rule of thumb is to assume it's at least as smart as you and twice as mean."
"Then what's it doing up there?"
Gaby patted the barrel of her borrowed weapon. "Maybe it heard about the one Robin shot down." She looked at the sky once more and shook her head. "But I don't think that's the whole reason. I don't like it. I don't like it at all." She looked at Cirocco.
"Well, you've convinced me. I don't like it either."
Chris looked from one to
the other, but neither had anything more to say.
Above, the buzz bomb continued to circle. It seemed to be waiting for something, but for what? Periodically the arrows of the wraiths rained down in flights of three or four dozen. Fired almost straight into the air, the arrows had lost their lethal speed by the time they reached the ground. One had hit Hornpipe in the hind leg. It penetrated five or six centimeters into the muscle: painful, but easily plucked out since the point was not barbed. The barrages seemed designed to keep them pinned down more than anything else. Chris had read somewhere that in a war, millions of rounds were expended for just that purpose. But if the wraiths wanted them to stay put, there must be a reason for it. They were preparing some surprise, or a larger force was on the way. In either case Chris thought the logical move was to make a dash for the cable. They surely would have done so if not for the presence of the buzz bomb.
"Do you think the wraiths and the bombs are working together?" he asked.
Gaby looked at him and did not answer immediately.
"I certainly doubt it," she said finally. "So far as I know, the wraiths have never worked with anybody but other wraiths, and not very well then." But when she looked back at the sky, she seemed thoughtful. She caressed the butt of Robin's gun and trained it on the distant target, keeping it in her sights, coaxing it down with soft, cajoling whispers.
"The arrows have stopped," Valiha said.
Chris had been aware of it for several minutes but had not mentioned it in the illogical fear that the barrage would begin again out of pure spite. But it was true; for the half hour since they had dug their community foxhole the arrows had come in at one- or two-minute intervals, and now they were not.
"Maybe I'm a pessimist," Gaby said, "but I don't think I like that either."
"They could be gone," Hornpipe ventured.
"And I could be a half-assed Titanide."
Chris could contain himself no longer. There was no point anymore in reminding himself that Gaby and Cirocco were much older, wiser, and more experienced in this sort of thing than he was.