by Larry Niven
Also, the dots made more of themselves.
The sheeting was Spiral Town's most dependable trade good, and the caravan was in town. He should have avoided Mount Apollo at all costs. But he damned well didn't dare wait for daylight!
He scuttled along the border between the chaparral and the bare rock above, hunching like a chug until he was out of sight of the Apollo Caverns, and far beyond.
By night the New Hann Holding was just another patch of wilderness, and Jemmy couldn't tell where he crossed it. It might have made a nice resting place. Merchants might see it that way too. Jemmy kept moving.
He walked through the night. Rarely did the Road come in view. At daylight he crawled into a manzanita grove and let his mattress inflate.
On tilted ground, in a glare of sunlight sieved through red manzanita trunks and the branches and lace of some tall Destiny tree, sleep was hard to find. He slept with evil memories. Eyes and mouth wide in horror: Fedrick felt what Jemmy Bloocher had done to him. Blood flooded his vest. The fist-sized hole in his back- From time to time he woke and, with his eyes closed against the filtered light, thought how much he had lost.
Somewhere around noon he ate half the speckle bread. It was his last speckles for the foreseeable future.
What would satisfy the merchants? Just how badly did they want his blood? Would a face-saving gesture satisfy them? Or his exile? Or would they take reprisals against Bloocher Farm?
Grow a beard or something. Lie about your age, many someone and move to another farm.
They'd been pressed for time, trying to decide what to do now. Even so, Jemmy hadn't liked hearing that. Even if it worked, even if the merchants let it work... how was it better than just moving on down the Road? Either way, the man who had been Jemmy Bloocher was gone.
Better, maybe, if he died here in the hills.
Many forms of Destiny life were poisons. Hadn't that been trolihair, the last time he'd stopped at a stream? It was hair-fine silver stuff, softlooking threads with very sharp tips. He'd given those clumps a lot of room. Being scratched by trollhair was an easy death, a long slide into sleep.
His family need never know. Jemmy never came to meet us.
What had sent his thoughts straying toward suicide?
Jemmy realized with a start that he was sleeping in the shade of a fool cage.
There were fool cages growing among the manzanita, all around him. Four feet of trunk flared into a thorny oval cage of black wicker decorated with bronze and scarlet lace, and a few tiny bones in the cage.
A Destiny bird could perch on any of a number of Destiny plants and find lace to eat. Some plants grew gaudy lace displays so that birds would transport their seeds. But the lace within a fool cage was a lure and a trap. A bird could perch on the upper branches of a fool cage, but any breeze that rattled the branches would cause them to trap a bird's feet, pull it in.
Most Destiny birds had learned to stay away. These bones belonged to Earthlife.
Curdis and Thonny and Brenda would expect to find him on the Road. Jemmy rolled his mattress, got his pack on, and crawled until the plants were thick enough to hide him walking upright.
The water table was lower now: the plants reached no more than three hundred meters above the flatland and the Road. Jemmy traveled by night. By day there were plants to hide him. He slept away from water. A stream might make him a target.
At night the star fields were gaudy, gorgeous. Quicksilver was brilliant but tiny and only showed for a few minutes after sunset. Kismet, Destiny's massive little moon, cast no more light even at the full. Any meteor might be Cavorite in reentry, or Argos among the asteroids, making a few seconds' burn. The land at night was black; a man could hurt himself thinking he saw more detail than was there.
He could only glimpse the Road in patches, and the sea far beyond. Once he saw a boat moving parallel to shore. Once, a house or shed that looked abandoned. He hadn't yet seen a human being. Then again, he didn't intend to.
There were Earthlife birds everywhere, a hundred varieties of song at morning and evening, hawks hovering on updrafts by day, owls hunting by night. He'd seen the shells and bones the predators had made of Destiny birds. And he'd seen fool cages everywhere, with Earthlife bones and beaks in them. The coming of Columbiad and Cavorite had been good for the fool cages.
They were good for Jemmy. Any bird still flapping inside a fool cage must be fresh and edible. He found a smallish turkey on the second night, and he pulled on his thick gloves and reached in through the thorns and strangled it. After dawn he felt safe building a tiny fire in a circle of rocks. The perpetual wind was enough to whip the smoke away.
On the third night he collected three little birds, pigeons maybe.
At the fourth dawn he crossed above a waterfall, then crawled downhill into brush. The stream had cut a gorge that ran down to the Road and through it. Someone had built a little bridge over the water.
Three men and a woman had set up camp near the bridge. The chugs were gone-in the water, likely-but the wagon nearly blocked the bridge.
Jemmy slept away from the water. From time to time he crawled back to the waterfall to spy on the merchant guards. Their eyes would see only the falling water; a tiny, distant moving man would be lost in all that motion. Right?
They weren't cheerful as merchants usually were. The woman was middle-aged and snappish; the younger men obeyed her with little grace.
He was moving back to the stream in midafternoon, careful as ever, when he heard a familiar shout.
“Brenbrenbrendaa!”
He crawled to the edge of the falls and looked down.
The falls drowned out speech. Thonny and Curdis were talking to the guards, to the men. The woman was talking to Brenda. The merchants' manner had grown cordial.
He crawled closer, staying in the thicket of fool cages. He got down to where the water wasn't so loud. Then sage and tumbleweed were growing too close together and he feared merchant guards would see them wiggle.
He heard Thonny shout, “Curdcurdcurdis! That's the last coin we've got!” And the sound of merchant laughter, and Brenda's laugh too.
Three bicycles moved on, across the bridge and down the Road. Now all Jemmy had to do was catch them.
They would have gained from better planning. How on Earth was he going to catch bicycles?
Jemmy was seething with impatience, but he'd have to be crazy to move now, in daylight, with merchants just below him. He crawled back among the fool cages and tried to sleep.
They must know they'd have to wait.
The next stream. They were past the merchant guards; why not stop? They'd wait at the next stream, and he'd see them and know it was safe to come down. And if he didn't see them?
No way could he sleep. He crawled up to where plants thinned out to bare rock, and he kept crawling.
Where water next crossed the Road, they weren't waiting. Jemmy made sure of that, then moved on.
What stopped him next was more than a stream.
The plant interface dipped, an arrowhead shape pointing at the Road. Jemmy's gaze followed the tree line down along rock that had run like wax. Frozen lava ran up to the ridge a thousand feet above him, and down almost to the Road itself, ending in a broad patch of green Earthlife trees and water gleaming between.
Interesting.
Jemmy could picture the giant landers Cavorite and Columbiad hovering on either side of the crest, moving parallel on pillars of violet flame bright enough to blind any witness, burning off the life of Destiny. Then return to seed the slopes with Earthlife. One of the ships must have paused here... yes, and he could see why. Above him the ridgeline bent by forty degrees.
Cavorite on the broad side had waited for Columbiad on the narrow side (or vice versa) to round the curve.
Water at the point of the lava triangle, then a thick stand of Earthlife trees, then the Road. The far side of the Road was a thriving village. There were shops along the Road, and a setback wide enough and long enough f
or a whole caravan, and a wide stream running to the sea, spreading into a delta at the end.
Who were these people? It had never occurred to Jemmy that there was this much of civilization beyond Spiral Town. Somewhere the merchants went for their goods, and to trade what they got from the Spirals. And in between...?
And how could he cross bare and slippery rock?
He couldn't. He was going to have to go down.
5
On the Road
Twerdahl and h~5 ~d~0t crew are running away. We isolated ourselves on the island for a reason. Whatever our problems, we'll solve them here.
-Julius Radner, Council Chairman
Where the wall of ancient lava converged to a point, there was a shine of water, then leafy Earthlife trees. From high up it appeared that the forest ran right to the Road. As Jemmy descended, it became clear that he was approaching a swamp.
He wasn't eager to wade into that.
The trees were cypress and mangrove on a wide spread of shallow water. There were no competing Destiny trees, but the trees were festooned with what he first thought were snakes. Snakes everywhere... motionless black snakes winding through webs of yellow-green lace.
Vines. One was a variety he didn't recognize, but the others wereJulia sets, the same vine the elder Hanns cultivated. The Hanns must have played the bonsai trick, stunting the plant by pruning and by keeping it half starved. These were huge. In places they were strangling the mangroves.
Something rippled along the water. A snake, a real one this time. Another moved among the vines. Something bigger shied from it: a man. Jemmy sank slowly into a crouch, then tried to ease behind a tree.
The man-boy-broke through to the open with evident relief. Looked around. Didn't see Jemmy. Jemmy stepped out of hiding, and Thonny jumped.
'You all right?”
'Fine,” Thonny said. “How was it?”
“Easy going. How did you make out?”
“There are merchants at the bridge!” Thonny was excited, enjoying himself immensely. “They asked about a merchant that got killed in Spiral Town. We changed the story a little.”
Fear rose up in Jemmy's throat. “Changed how?”
“Uh, well, we talked it over. Curdis says I'm the traders' best witness. I mean Thonny Bloocher is. I'm your oldest brother and I saw it all. Brenda wouldn't see as much because it was all men and Brenda's a girl-”
And so she wouldn't have watched men quarreling. “Right. So?”
“So they would have turned us back and how would you find us on the Road? So I didn't say I'm Thonny Bloocher. I'm Tim Hann.”
“With those eyes?”
“One of the merchants said that. I got insulted.”
“Curdis's idea?”
“Yeah. The real Tim Hann would have been Curdis's older brother, but he died a year old.”
“Tim Hann. I'm Tim Hann. Great. Anything else?”
Jemmy's fury rendered Thonny mute.
If he couldn't get Thonny talking any other way, Jemmy was ready to hold him under water. This was his lffe they were playing for! He said, “Look, if I'm Tim Hann, I have to sound like Tim Hann. Did Tim Hann see the killing?”
Thonny nodded.
“Where were you?”
“Across the room, near the fireplace.”
“Did Jemmy Bloocher do it? Fine. With the merchant's gun? What does he look like? What did you change?”
“I didn't lie. It was just a better fight.”
“Curdis was listening? I can ask him?”
“Yeah.”
“What were they like, these merchants you met?”
“We saw three men at the bridge, with a woman. They searched us. We bought some stuff from them. They lost interest when we said we were broke. You're still broke going back, okay?”
“They'll expect me to know them coming back?”
Thonny thought it over, then shrugged.
“Okay. Where are we? What are all these people doing here?”
“I don't know. Living here. I peeled off before we got close to anyone.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Four or five of them saw us together. Older people, Mom's age. They dress like, well, like Jael Harness.”
“Did they wave? Throw rocks? Do they think we're weird?”
“They pointed at us and started shouting, maybe at us, maybe at the houses. Women too. Curdis and Brenda went on toward them, but I did what Curdis told me. I peeled off. Didn't let any of them get a close look. Tied the bike to a tree. You just go through the swamp, get on the bike, and go join them.”
Jemmy began to wonder if he sounded properly grateful. He said, “Sounds like it all went like somebody planned it,” and smiled and hugged his brother.
That pleased Thonny. He asked, “How did you make out?”
Jemmy tried to tell him. “There's practically nobody on the Road. I mean at night, I only went at night. Stay with the frost line and you won't be seen. There's plenty of water, springs. If you see a bird flapping in a fool cage, that's your dinner. If it isn't moving, leave it.”
“We trading backpacks?”
They did that. Jemmy said, “I made some fIres. Did you see anything? Smoke?”
“Tiny fires in rock pits. I left some fire pits. You break them up when you finish with them.”
They looked at each other.
Jemmy said, “Thonny, thanks.”
“It's okay.” Thonny adjusted his backpack, grinned at his brother, and began to climb.
“Hats!” Jemmy shouted.
He sailed Thonny's hat up to Thonny. Thonny sailed his down to Jemmy. It flew over his head and settled on the water.
Jemmy waded into the gloom. The water was knee-deep and tepid.
Jemmy's hat was sinking out of sight. Jemmy retrieved it and put it on. It streamed water, soaked like a sponge, but he had no other way to carry it. He was glad to have it back.
The air smelled alien: wet and thick with greenery and rot. He crawled over tremendous roots. The water was thigh-deep now, icy around his ankles.
Crotch-deep. Was this the right direction? Seen from overhead, the grove hadn't seemed this big. Now he feared he'd never reach the Road.
Something limbless slid through the water. Again, nearer now. Julia sets hung thickly from the branches. From time to time a vine lifted a wedgeshaped head and flickered its tongue, to watch and sniff for clumsy prey.
Bright and colorful they were, and they shied from him too. Some snakes described in teaching programs were poisonous. Interstellar travelers wouldn't have brought poisonous snakes, would they? These were Earthlife, brought for decoration. Someone in Sol system's planning section must have liked snakes.
But Jemmy didn't, and the thought of being touched by such a thing- He'd reached the Road. But the dark water was waist-deep, and the Road was a smoothly curved rim of gray rock at eyebrow level. His hands slid over it. He couldn't get the grip that would pull him out.
Cursing, he wrestled his way up a banyan, then far enough along a branch to drop to the Road.
He rested on his knees, panting and dripping, his hands on its warm surface. The Road. He was home. By its look, by its feel, this was the Road that ran past Bloocher Farm.
But the houses on the far side were angular little boxes with drastically peaked roofs.
Three girls were coming toward him. They looked much alike, pale skin and narrow noses and hair the color of butter. Sisters or cousins, Jemmy's age. They dressed in older clothes of mismatched color that didn't quite fit.
Who were these people? Where had they come from?
Exiles from Spiral Town? When?
And where had Thonny left his bike? The girls shouldn't get the idea that this new Tim Hann didn't know.
Could be worse: boys would ask him embarrassing questions.
Tied to a tree? That would be down in the swamp! But Thonny wouldn't have left his bike that way. And if he'd peeled off as soon as they saw locals, he must have left the bike up the Road toward S
piral Town.
Up the Road by nearly a mile, it tilted. Four big robust trees seemed to be right up against it. Jemmy walked toward them, followed at a distance by the girls.
The huge roots of five... seven banyans were actually lifting the edge of the Road.
There:Thonny's bike.
“Hello,” one of the girls called. “Are you Timmy Hann?” Jemmy freed the bike and wheeled it around. He didn't know what to do. But they'd spoken, they couldn't be much surprised if he talked back. He said, “Tim Hann,” correcting their pronunciation.
“I'm Loria. Everybody's down by the beach.” She wasJemmy's height, the tallest of the girls. Narrow nose, narrow chin, wide eyes that held his oWfl. Her clothes looked like she'd dressed in the dark, in garments borrowed half from Spiral Town, half from merchants. “Can I ride your thing?”
“Bicycle.”
She waited.
They'd never seen a bike before, had they? On whim Jemmy handed it over to her. He held it steady while she got on, and showed her how to set her feet on the pedals. He avoided touching her. They talked to boys, but they might take that more seriously.
He rolled the bike forward, gave her a chance to find the feel of it, then let go. She stayed up. He ran alongside. Still up, learning to steer but not quite fast enough. She was going to fall into the swamp!
He lunged for the seat of the bike, brushed her where she sat, tried again and had it. Pulled back, leaning into it, and stopped her short of the edge. His fingertips burned. “I f-forgot to talk about b-brakes,” he said.
Loria listened, looked where he pointed, nodded, and tried again. A few false starts and she wobbled in among the houses, laughing, faster than he could follow.
One of the girls said, “I'm Tarzana. That's Gl-”
“Glind Bednacourt. We're all Bednacourt-“
“The Bednacourt sisters.” Narrow noses, narrow chins, wide dancing eyes. Tarzana took his arm, Glind took his other arm, and they walked him between the houses.