Menace Under Marswood

by Sterling E. Lanier

  They had marched four hours without a break when the light up ahead suddenly grew brighter. It hurt Slater's eyes and he blinked and squinted for a moment, before he saw that it was only a wooden torch set alight and that he had emerged into a cavern, or a greatly heightened and widened segment of the tunnel. Behind him the others came, and he smelled Danna's wild fragrance for a second as she walked by him, to where Muller held the torch. The air was moist, dark, and cool, and the walls glimpsed in the torchlight were wet though the tunnel floor was not.

  "We'll take a break, but not too long," the colonel said. "Feed and water the animals while I talk. We can't stay here long. Too dangerous. You'll find water bags and grain in the left hand pack on each animal. Hurry it up, now. By the way, Milla was JayBee's flagman. Fun, eh?"

  Suddenly Danna was beside Slater as he fumbled with the lashings of the unfamiliar pack. "Let me, you clumsy Terran, or Strombok will bite you." Her voice was gay, and he wondered at it even as he fought back an almost overpowering desire to hold her tight in his arms.

  "He's my own baby," Danna said happily. "I raised him from a kid. Isn't he pretty?" She crooned to the huge mutated goat, as if to a child, and Slater was jealous while he listened to the brute crunch its feed.

  "I wanted him to be led by you," she went on in a low voice. "He might need to know you later if there's trouble. They won't let just anyone handle them. They are very ... sensible? No—sensitive, that's the word. And I wanted him to like you too."

  "He's lovely," Slater said, watching one of the bulgote's amber eyes roll at him in the torchlight. He hoped he sounded sincere. An uglier beast had never existed, he thought. Strombok looked as if it ate babies for breakfast. The great knobbed horns had needle tips; the Ruckers never polled their herds. The horns were needed for fighting off the wild dog packs and such, but Ruckers admired strength and ferocity anyway, hating the clipped and fatted stock of the Terrans. Suddenly Slater realized that Muller was talking.

  "A fellow named Gunsmit is on our side. He's a camp chief and a good man. He can lay a false scent and be believed. At least for a while. This tunnel and lots of others are things known to the Wise Women and a few, not all, of the older men.

  "Before someone asks, Thau Lang is in no danger. A konsel is usually above attack, unless he declares a feud, and Thau Lang can only be condemned by his own clan, which is a long way off and wouldn't do it anyway. He's a great war leader as well, and famous far beyond his own borders. Neither JayBee nor the U-Men would dare attack him openly, and he's too wise to the danger now to be taken by deceit. He will move out tonight and catch up to us when he can. Milla slipped out while Mohini Dutt was raving at us.

  "Finally, we are on our way to the South—the area the U-Men, or their allies, come from—by a shortcut. This network of tunnels may save us as much as thirty miles or more still, before we surface. But we have to move fast. There is only a remote chance that we'll be followed, which would mean that JayBee, the U-Men or both have suborned a konsel or Wise Woman. But not much is known about these caves and tunnels. Certain routes have been charted through them. I have a rough map of ours. But no one stays in them longer than necessary. Many of the first explorers from the clans never came out. Sometimes they were found, or what was left of them. Sometimes there was nothing, just the Long Silence. Save for a few of the shortest and most open, like the big council cavern, they are used only in dire emergencies. So we rest now for half an hour, we guard our perimeter constantly, and then we move out."

  A shape moved next to Slater, and a hand touched his shoulder. He could just make out the ragged suit that covered Arta Burg in the flicker of the torchlight.

  "Half of the Scorpion Clan, who live over to the west of us, were lost this way many years ago." His voice rang even louder than had Muller's in the silence. "They sheltered deep down from a great wind, much worse than the one two days ago. Only a few bones were found by the ones who looked, a few bones and many long tunnels going back into the hills beyond light and knowledge."

  "Hear that, everyone?" Muller asked. "Relax now and try to get some rest. Burg and I will take first watch, he at the way we came in, I up ahead here."

  Slater found himself sitting between Danna and Nakamura. Feng and Milla had gone to sleep, each taking a bag from the nearest bulgote. The torch had been extinguished and they sat in the dark, talking in low tones. Occasionally a light flickered at the entrance to the cave or back beyond where Muller and Burg played their pocket beam lights at random. Otherwise it was night in the depths.

  "I'm delighted that Arta and Milla were not lost," Slater said. He was, he found, not lying, though he still hated the thought that Danna had two husbands. Arta and Milla were good comrades, decent fellows. It was not Aria's fault that an alien had fallen in love with his wife! A wife he shared with another man anyway!

  "It's wonderful," she answered. "Here we are all together. If only my grandfather would come, it would be perfect."

  "Your grandfather?" Nakamura was no more puzzled than Slater, but he spoke first.

  "Oh, we did not tell you. Thau Lang is my mother's father. Many of the True People still do not bother with much record keeping, who is related and all such things. But the Wise Women know what genetics are. We are not such savages as you Greenies think." She laughed and poked the big lieutenant.

  "Besides, it is important to know who the ancestors of a Wise Woman are. We can speak to those gone down at times, and also we wish to be able to breed and transmit our power to the daughters to come. But anyone would want to be related to Thau Lang. He is a wonderful man, a konsel and one of the greatest warriors as well. Usually konsels are only middling fair as fighters. They have to think too much. But he has killed over forty men and many terrible beasts. A wonderful man!"

  The combination of superstition and pride at having the most murderous warrior around as a kinsman caused Slater to wince in the dark. But he felt rueful a moment later. Who was he to flinch at his savage love and her pride, he who had been raised on tales of war against the Russians, ancient British, the Sikhs, and the other Afghan and Pathan tribes? Danna's pride was honest, like everything else about her.

  She was sitting close enough to Slater so that he could feel her muscles quiver, all in an instant. At the same time her voice cried out, "Back here to the others, Muller and Arta. Something comes!"

  Each man reached for his pocket light while Feng and Milla Breen uncoiled from sleep bags only a fraction of a second behind the others. With a rush of racing feet, the two outer men joined them and in seconds they were all seven in a circle, lights and weapons facing outward, the two blindfolded pack beasts in the center.

  "I can feel it," Danna murmured, her voice low and unsteady. "It is out there ... watching."

  Her outstretched arm was pointing toward the blackness in the direction in which they had been heading.

  Chapter Nine – Through the Long Silence

  THE BEAMS of the small flashlights died perhaps a hundred or so yards away and were swallowed up by the moist dark beyond. The smooth damp walls of the tunnel, even though far wider than their original track, were still visible on either side. Only the roof above lay out of sight. Slater felt a ghost of an acrid scent in his nostrils and wondered if he were imagining it.

  "Listen!" Muller said. "I heard something! And I can smell it!"

  Now Slater heard it too. It was a curious sliding noise, as if something damp was brushing gently against a smooth surface. They strained eyes and ears, but they could not pinpoint the sound. Nevertheless, it slowly grew louder, though somehow more diffuse, as if a number of different objects were involved. Then they saw something.

  At the farthest limit of their beams, something shining came in view, white and featureless, glistening. It seemed small at first, but as it advanced, it grew in girth. Behind it came another and yet another, weaving, twisting, and almost oozing over the basalt floor of the tunnel, yet always approaching. The tips were soft-looking, eyeless and shapeless. But the b
ulk of whatever the things' length represented grew constantly as they emerged into the light. At the back, the limit of the humans' vision, they were now as thick as cables. And still they came. At least eight of the horrid things were in view, and even as they watched, another appeared. In fascination, the seven watched the inexorable advance.

  "It is old," Danna said in a strained voice. "Old and hungry. And also it hates us, for we can see."

  As usual, the colonel had not been idle. He broke the spell. "Get down!" he shouted, and threw something far and straight, back into the dark where the living ropes bulked thickest. As he hurled the object he fell forward.

  Slater had thrown one arm over Danna as they fell, and now he felt the floor of the cave heave to the blast of the explosion while his ears went numb at the same time. When he opened his eyes, the white glare of the tiny bomb had died but there was sufficient afterglow to see the shambles it had created. Great torn coils of twisting, living, pallid substance writhed in agony, blocking the tunnel as far as they could see, snapping and beating with soft but massive thuds against the walls, reaching and grasping far up out of sight into the dark above. At the same time a pain, a thrilling vibrato cut into his head as if something was screaming on a note that humanity was never meant to hear. His eyes shut again with the agony. He felt Danna choke under his hand and knew that she and the others were having the same experience. The acrid, piercing scent had become a fierce reek.

  As suddenly as it had come, the pain died and was gone, leaving only a feeling of stretched nerves and overstrained muscles. One by one the ghastly ropes ceased their movement and slowly settled to the cavern's floor. A foul stench rose from them like steam, and as the party slowly rose, weapons and lights at the ready, the bulgotes snorted and began to rear, straining at their reins. Danna, Milla, and Arta ran to them and soothed them with pats and caresses, crooning until the fear subsided.

  "It has gone," Danna said, turning to Slater. "I can feel the hate still, but far away, down deep in the cold water and the dark. It is not dead, but badly hurt."

  Muller and Feng had cautiously gone out and were examining the closest of the now-motionless things. They held their free hands over their noses as they peered and probed with lights and booted feet. After a moment they came back, faces drawn.

  "You are a great warrior, Muller," Danna said warmly. "None of the True People—no, not even Thau Lang—ever fought such a creature as this!"

  He brushed aside the praise. "You warned us about them, or 'it', as you call it, Danna. How did you know it was coming? We all felt the supersonic cry when it was hurt. Yet you gave us a full minute's warning. And you seem to know something about it. What?"

  Surprisingly, it was Burg who answered. "You have lived with the clans, Muller. Thau Lang told us that much back in your fort. You know the True People better than any Greenie on the planet. Haven't you learned anything about a Wise Woman yet? They see and feel the unseen in ways no other can. They can tell when the great storms will come, when water will fail, when the volcanoes come from the rock. They speak with those who have gone down. Why should Danna not know the thing was coming?"

  "You're right, Arta. I must be getting old. I have seen enough in the past. There was someone, a woman, once ..." He cut himself off in midspeech, an odd thing for Muller. "What do you think it was, Danna? Is it intelligent?"

  In the beamlight, Danna grew thoughtful. "These feelings come, Muller, and they go. I felt rather than knew, do you understand? Now there is nothing beyond a vague sense of hurt, which is far away and growing farther. But it was one thing, I know that, and those were its ... hands. It must be big, very big. It lives mostly in water, and there has not been any water on the top of Mars, until we made it—we humans—for many millions of years. So it lives below. But I felt that once it lived up on top, long long ago, beyond the memory of man. Or maybe its fathers did." She paused. "You asked, 'Is it intelligent?' I don't know how to explain. I feel that it is perhaps, but not the same way we are, if that is something that makes sense. Also"—and her voice dropped a little—"I got a feeling it might have been sent, yet that is not right either. Maybe told, or, what's the Greenie word—alerted. That's closer. But it is all feeling, not something I know with my brain. I hope that helps." She looked at Slater and smiled, as if she were a child who could not repeat a lesson correctly. His heart went out to her at the same time his brain reeled.

  Muller had been conferring with Arta, Milla, and Captain Feng. Now he summoned them all to the center of the open space. He took a wooden torch from Strobok's pack and lit it.

  "Let's get out of here. The bulgotes come behind, with Arta and Danna leading them, Slater and Milla last. Keep your eyes open, son, and warman Breen. We could still be hit by something from behind. Nakamura, come up here. I need those big muscles of yours to lift this muck. Watch it carefully. Some of those things may have reserve nervous action, even if their owner isn't attached any longer."

  Rags were tied over the gotes' muzzles, since the stink of the dead limb segments was overpowering. Slater went to dampen a cloth on one of the dripping walls and made an interesting discovery. Narrow gutters running along the sides of the tunnel, only an inch or so wide, served to carry the moisture away, so that the main tunnel floor remained dry. He reported this when he came back, and Muller looked thoughtful. "Whoever built this knew what they were doing."

  "Whoever or whatever," Nakamura muttered. He and Feng carefully cleared a path through the torn mass of white and slimy tentacles, hurling the loathsome things aside and wiping their hands on rags as quickly as possible. Slater touched one in passing and shuddered at the feel, which was both gelatinous and rubbery at the same time. Mars clung to many secrets, and knowledge of the dweller in the deep caves was one the old planet could keep indefinitely as far as he was concerned.

  The party passed through the gap thus created, the gotes snorting only a little, and they soon came to a place where the foul remains abruptly ended. The tunnel was narrowing again but still sloped gently down. Before them now, clear in the torchlight, was a broad smear, several yards wide, of glistening slime and ichor. The odor was still overpowering, but the way was clear.

  Muller led and the others followed cautiously. In the light, the foul track led straight on, but suddenly Muller halted and held his torch high. To their right, a huge vaulted opening loomed in the tunnel wall, its base even with the floor. Into this led the awful trail of the monster, and beyond it, in front of them, the path was dry once more.

  They hurried past, weapons ready, wondering if a mass of the things would rise through the black arch and assault them again, but nothing happened. In a few moments they were far beyond the hole, and Muller put out his torch, once more switching to the pocket beamlight.

  As they went on, the damp in the air increased, until it was positively humid. The temperature, however, remained constant. The tunnel was narrow again, but never so much as it had been before the cave of the monster, and two could walk abreast easily. Once Muller checked for a moment and shone his light on the floor by the narrow gutter. A pile of some dark rubbish lay there, but the light caught on a glint of metal.

  "Somebody drew this map and came back afterward, or there wouldn't be any map. Looks like someone stayed behind too."

  The air remained fresh and moist. They encountered tunnel openings with increased frequency, and always passed them as quickly as possible. Their own road had stopped descending some time back.

  After about five hours, Muller called another halt. "We ought to get some rest. Nakamura and Feng take the first watch. Danna and Slater next. We'll come, Milla, Arta and I, last. Two hours a watch. That should give us enough to go on."

  Exhausted, those not on watch lay down at once. Slater felt he had hardly had a chance to close his eyes, when Nakamura shook him awake.

  "Go see the Rucker's Revenge," the giant whispered, pointing to Danna, who stood a little distance off, her torch illuminating her face. "Wish I had your luck. Even the
godddamn gotes don't like me." He added, almost as an afterthought, "Nice girl, Moe. Never thought I'd feel that way about one of them." In an instant he was curled up and asleep in his bag.

  Slater smiled to himself as he walked to Danna. If someone who hated the Ruckers as much as Nakamura could change, maybe there was hope for an eventual peace after all.

  Though the two were supposed to be patrolling opposite ends of the tunnel, they quickly found each other and Danna came into his arms. "We should not be doing this on watch," she said finally, her curly head buried against his chest. When he started to pull away, two strong little arms tightened around him, and he could see the glint of her smile in the torchglow.

  "Those who spurn a Wise Woman are said to die unpleasantly, Greenie. And besides, we get so few chances to be alone."

  "My friends call me Moe," he mumbled. Then, before he could catch himself, the one thing that had been on his mind for the last three days came out. "Besides—what about your two husbands?"

  She pushed him away and looked up at his face. "That bothers you? Ah, I understand. You Greenies!" She shook him gently by the front of his leather jacket. "You thought I was making love to them both!" He heard her choked laughter in the moist gloom.

  After the soft laughter had died, she said, "Moe, you know little about us, though that is not surprising. We steal your records, your vid-tapes, your books, your newsheets, and we leave little for you to find in return. Thus we know much of you, but you, only bits and snatches of our lives."

  Her voice grew sober as she explained. "Let us walk together in a circle, and we can talk as we do, so that the guard is kept. I will tell you about the Wise Women. My mother was one and she died long ago. My father I never knew. No one speaks of him, not even Thau Lang. He once told me my father was a great warrior of a far-distant clan and that he had to leave me as a baby. Thau Lang told me that some day he would tell me more."

  They walked the cave in silence for a moment, circling the sleeping men and the cud-chewing bulgotes at a distance, flashing their lights about at random. Slater's heart was beating harder than he thought it could. Danna was not sleeping with Burg and Breen! For the moment, that was all he needed to make him happy.