World and Thorinn

by Damon Francis Knight

  "All things fall to other things." The crystal lighted up, and he could see some sort of complicated shape moving across it. "I don't mean that," he said impatiently. "I mean, why here? What is this place for?" The crystal went dark. "This place is to take things that fall here. This place not, then things fall to the bottom, on heads of people."

  Thorinn considered this. "Are there people at the bottom?"

  "Yes."

  "How far is it to the bottom?"

  "It is two hundred hundreds of hundreds and sixty hundreds of hundreds of ells." Thorinn frowned. "You mean thousands?" he ventured.

  "What is a thousand?"

  "A thousand is ten hundreds."

  "It is two thousands of thousands and six hundreds of thousands of ells." Thorinn tried to imagine such a number, and gave it up. "Well then, how far is it to the top again?"

  "It is four thousands of thousands and four hundreds of thousands of ells." Thorinn put his head in his hands. He remembered the fall, the wind buffeting him, such a wind as he had never felt even riding Stonebreaker into the teeth of a gale in Hovenskar. He must have been falling ten times as fast as a horse could gallop, at least... and it had gone on for hours. He remembered the rings of the shaft wall whipping by him till they blurred together. He thought of that going on hour after hour, while he slept, still falling...

  "Box, are there people living near here?"

  "Yes."

  "Which is the best way to get to them?"

  "Engines will come to take things from this place. Engines will take you to the people." Thorinn disliked the sound of this. "Show me these engines," he said. Colors began to appear in the crystal. "Wait a minute," Thorinn said, and hitched himself across the ribbed floor until he could reach the box and turn it upright. The crystal had gone dark. He moved back a little, to see better. "All right."

  In the crystal, two spiderlike things of metal appeared. They had metal eyes and waving metal arms with claws at the end, and they moved in a way that made Thorinn ill to watch.

  "That's enough," he said hastily. "Box, I don't want to wait for the engines—how can I get out of here by myself?"

  "At the back of this place there are—" The crystal lighted; it showed a wall of metal with three panels that opened and shut as he watched.

  "Doors?"

  "Yes, doors."

  "All right, then." Thorinn leaned over far enough to reach the piece of stuff, pulled, it to him, and wrapped the box in it. The strips he had tied it with earlier were gone; he cut new ones off the end of the cloth to make shoulder loops, as before, and slung the pack on his back. There was still something disturbing and odd about all his movements; his arms seemed unnaturally light, and when he moved them they went farther than he meant them to. It was like what had happened when Snorri's Pipe began to roar; then all things had lost somewhat of their weight, but this was much worse. Leaning forward cautiously and pressing with one hand on the floor, he straightened his legs and managed to stand up. The floor above was an ell or so over his head. Shining the light between the ribs, he saw a dim reflected gleam from the ceiling, then another, nearer, from a wall that sloped gently up into darkness. It seemed that he was in a kind of midden-hole, into which things fell and sorted themselves out by their sizes. His first step took him high in the air; he clutched at the nearest rib of the floor above, overbalanced, and drifted down kicking helplessly to land on his back. He sat astonished, then got up and tried again. This time, using only his toes, he was able to keep his balance, though he floated as high as an ordinary stride would have taken him. He tried again, with still better results. He turned and began to follow the dancing beam of the light-box. After a stride or two he realized that the floor sloped gently downward toward the rear of the chamber; probably that accounted for part of his trouble in learning to stand up and walk. Ahead, something gleamed out of the darkness: it was an upright surface, formed of metal ribs set crosswise to each other like the floor he walked on. Beyond it the floor continued, but now it was solid metal.

  Approaching the barrier, he discovered that it was made in sections that stood close together; each section was about four ells wide. There was no door to be seen, although he turned left and followed the barrier until it met the wall of the chamber, then right to the opposite wall. As he turned back to the middle again, his eye was caught by a spark of red fire below; then two more, of a greenish hue, a little distance away. He turned his light beam on them as well as he could through the ribs of the floor, and thought they were his lost jewels, but could not be sure; nor could he see any means of getting them.

  He turned to the barrier and this time examined the nearest section, to see how it was made fast to the floor. He found it was held only by three metal contrivances that curved over the bottom rib and were fixed to the floor on the other side. Putting his hand between the ribs, he fumbled at one of these, and finding a handle pressed it, whereupon the contrivance sprang back and released the rib. He did the same with the other two, and now felt the barrier loose in his hands at the bottom, though it was still fixed at the top. He pressed against it, and it swung up easily.

  Crouching there with one hand holding the barrier over his head, he swung the light-beam back and forth over the floor. The 'floor ended a few ells in front of him; beyond was blackness. The feel of the air on his face, the timbre of the few sounds he made, spoke of a vast empty space. He let the barrier down softly and fell to examining the floor around him. It was really a sort of platform, and above him there was another, of the same dull brownish metal, which seemed to extend farther out than this one. There was a light coating of dust on the floor; under it he could see scuff-marks, as if something had been dragged toward the edge of the platform. He thought of the spidery engines the box had shown him. By the look of the floor, he thought the engines had not been here in a long time; but perhaps they only came when something fell into the chamber.

  He held his breath and listened, staring at the blackness that filled the space between the platform he stood on and the one above. He began to be uneasy about his light, and capped the end of the box, but that was worse: now the blackness swelled forward to touch his face.

  With the light-box uncapped again, but shielding it with his fingers, he followed the barrier until he reached the wall. This was of solid brownish metal, not a grillwork like the others, but there was a door in it. It was not quite like the doors the box had shown him. He fumbled with the handle until he discovered how it worked, and slid the door open. Inside was more blackness, in which his light-beam picked out a few ambiguous shapes, a wall, a ceiling.

  He closed the door. He was in a room, about the size of the platform outside. The ceiling was broken; dust and rubble covered the floor. He examined some of the metal devices that stood here and there, but could make nothing of them. One or two were like melted chairs; they would be ill to sit in, and he could imagine no other use for them.

  The damage was worst at the far end of the chamber. Here the walls were blackened, and a great hole gaped in the ceiling; tongues of corroded metal hung down; broken stones were piled high in the corner. A faint breath came from the opening above. Thorinn climbed the slope, peered upward past the beam of his light. The way was partially blocked at the opening by fallen slabs of stone; beyond, it seemed to be clear. He tested the slabs cautiously, then began to wriggle past them. The passage widened perceptibly as he went on, until he was able to crawl on hands and knees. It sloped gradually upward, twisting and turning. After a hundred ells or so it turned sharply to the right and forked into two ascending passages, both deep but narrow. The breath of air from the right-hand passage seemed a little stronger than the other, and he chose that one. For a while the passage was deep enough to let him scramble half-erect; then it twisted again and began to grow shallower. In another ell or two he found himself in difficulty. The passage had grown so narrow that he could not get through it with the bundle on his shoulders. He retreated until he could crouch f
ar enough to work the pack free. Pushing it ahead of him, he was able to advance another ten ells, the passage growing steadily narrower as he went. Then the passage took an abrupt downward turn. He thrust the pack down ahead of him, wriggled after it. It checked, then jammed tight. He tugged to free it, and it came back a finger's-breadth or two, then held fast again; it felt as if some loop or projecting fold of the stuff had caught. He probed with his fingers at the end of the bundle, all around. At one point he felt a faint touch of cool air. He squirmed forward, forcing his arm between the bundle and the smooth stone. Halfway down, he felt the bulge of the talking box inside. He got a precarious grip and tugged. Sweat ran into his eyes. He tugged with one hand, pushed with the other. The bundle turned slightly. He braced himself and pushed hard. The bundle ground forward, stopped, moved again, and suddenly dropped out of reach. A freshet of cool air played against his face. The light-box, sliding down after the pack, dropped and disappeared. He heard it fall, and saw its beam not far below.

  A squirm and a heave, and he was out, falling, twisting slowly to land without a sound. He sat up, bruised and gasping. He was in a level passage, blocked at one end by a fall of stones; in the other direction, it ran off straight into darkness. He had gone no more than a hundred ells when he saw the circular opening of a shaft in the ceiling. He bent his knee slightly, leaped into the shaft, twisting to brace himself with foot and elbow.

  As he had thought, the shaft was closed by a shield of brown metal, but there was no opening in it and it would not turn. He pushed against it and thought he felt it give a little. He braced himself more firmly, pushed again. The shield gave way, as if hinged at one side. Dim light washed down into the shaft, and he smelled fresh air. He lunged upward, pulled himself through, and sprawled in a tangle of stiff brown canes. The shield clapped shut behind him. Leaf shadows trembled on his face, and he smelled the scent of green trees.

  7

  “ ^”

  How Thorinn was the guest of demons, and how he repaid their hospitality.In the year of the Broken Branches an untested warrior of the clan of Blue Snake pushed his sisterinto a thorn tree and wounded her grievously, whereon she cursed him, saying, "May the skydemons come for you!" The young warrior unluckily replied, "This for you, and the sky demons aswell!"

  A year and a day after, two sky demons entered the lodge of Blue Snake in the guise of abareskinned person and a talking gourd. They were bound and tormented by Blue Snake andother persons of his lodge, but escaped by magic arts and slew many before they returned to thesky. Afterward the clan of Blue Snake, being weakened by these slayings, fell easy prey to the clanof Break Skulls, who took the women captive, slew and ate the others after tormenting them forfive nights and days. Thus the lodge of Blue Snake fell vacant, and being an unlucky place, wasnot tenanted again save by moths and deathbeetles.

  He found himself in a thicket of tall canes with leafy tops, which crossed over his head and shut out the sky. A bird was singing somewhere not far away. Sprawled among the canes, Thorinn listened with such pleasure that for moments he forgot what he was about.

  When he turned to look at the shield, he found in its place a gray rounded boulder, half buried in the earth. Thorinn knelt to examine this, pushed against it, but it would not move. He began to feel dizzy again, and thought of lying down to sleep, but there was no room for that here, between the canes and the boulder.

  He got up and began to climb, finding himself so light that he could ascend to the very tip of a cane. As he emerged from the thicket, clinging to the leafy top with only his head protruding from it, he was looking into a remote tangle of curved milky stems, as if he had somehow got into the roots of the canes instead of their tops. The illusion was so strong that he was dizzy once more and had to shut his eyes a moment. When he opened them it was no better, until he looked down along the dwindling stem of the cane. All around him at a lower level were the flat green tops of other canes, and by keeping them in view he was able to persuade himself that the world was the right way up. He saw now that the canes, tall as they had seemed before, were like grasses at the feet of those immense tangled growths whose shapes he could not quite make out. The sky was invisible, somewhere far above. Once he thought he saw a flicker of motion deep in the tangle of stems, but it did not come again. The air was still and cool. While he hung there, a silent gloom rushed over the landscape. One moment the world was full of color; next, the light dwindled and went out behind him. In the blackness, Thorinn clung without up or down, or any direction to guide him. Shortly, however, his eyes began to grow accustomed to the darkness, and he could make out the same enigmatic tangled growths as before; but all were transformed in the green skylight that filtered through the branches. A cool air had sprung up. Somewhere in the distance insects began to shrill; and there were other sounds.

  In the tangle that spread wide around him, some of the wavering branches and stems were the color of cheese, some black as beetles; the hollows between them were purple, crow's-wing blue, deepest green. Thorinn heard a slithering movement not far away; then wings hummed past his head, and he ducked. He tried to slide back down the stem, but at first moved so slowly that he felt almost as if he were going the wrong way, up into the sky. He relaxed the grip of his legs, but still moved with uncanny slowness, and in the end he had to propel himself downward hand under hand.

  When he was beneath the shelter of the cane tops, he came to a halt. Now that he was quiet, he could hear faint, enigmatic sounds from below: rustlings, clicks. They made him uneasy, and he began to wish that he had been quieter a moment ago. He slid down, silent except for the whisper of his hands on the stem. Now he was near enough to touch the next cane. He leaned out, grasped it, and swung over. The cane dipped slowly, grating against another; he transferred to that, and then had to kick away to prevent the cane he had just left from wiping him off again. He stopped to listen. The sounds below were nearer: click; rustle; scrape.

  The stem he lay on began to vibrate. Thorinn stared into the shadows. Something was crawling up the stem: he saw the green dots of its eyes. The cane shivered again. The thing was coming closer with surprising speed; now he could make out that it had a thick dark body, a confusion of moving knobby legs like a cricket's. Thorinn rolled over and began to stand up, meaning to see if he could shake the stalk until the thing fell off; but he had forgotten how slowly things moved here, and while his feet were still drifting in a leisurely way back toward the cane, the insect-thing was suddenly in front of his nose. It had sharp mouth-parts that gleamed as they opened wide. His back stiffened, he kicked out, and hung in midair while the cane swayed above him. He saw the dark thing leap, felt it strike his legs like a sack of meal, then a stabbing pain as its jaws gripped him through the leather. He had the sword out, swung and struck—another pain, he had gashed his own leg, and the insect-thing, cut in two, went spinning away. Now the cane was drifting toward him, a little to one side. It dipped, touched him, he trying awkwardly to turn and seize it, but he went off again, thrashing his arms. Now the spinning world steadied; it was moving past his feet; the dark meadow came nearer, he bent his knees and staggered, but only with surprise: the shock of landing was no more than that of stepping off a waist-high stone. His good leg began to hurt. He put his fingers to it, found a gash in the leather and a little blood. He straightened, shifting hands on the sword again. Something moved past him. There was a thump in the grass not far away, then another, nearer. Thorinn did not stop to think; he leaped. As he went up, something small and swift passed under him. Next moment he felt a sharp blow on his good foot, a scrabbling of claws on the leather. Whatever it was, the thing slipped off and he saw it fall toward the dark grass. The tree was turning majestically around him. He twisted and revolved his arms, trying to straighten himself out, and partially succeeded. There was a sizzling noise at his ear, then something stung him on the neck. He slapped at it, and found himself gyrating again. A misshapen loop of vine came by; he grasped it, swung helplessly a mome
nt, then pulled himself up into the tree. He stood aslant on a tree-limb or old vine, breathless, looking down at the grass an incredible distance below—twenty ells, at least, perhaps more; it was hard to tell in the greenlight. He felt exultant; if he could jump like that, no matter what was after him...

  Down there in the dimlit grass, something moved. It was round and gray, and it was hanging in the air—no, rising toward him—larger, a tangle of knobby limbs—With a startled cry, Thorinn leaped backward and upward. Something dealt him a heavy blow across the back; then leaves were whipping his face. Another blow; he clutched a limb and swung to rest. The leaves below him continued to rustle. There was a thrashing, then a measured grating and crunching sound, as if something brittle and hard were being eaten.

  Thorinn retreated, pulling himself upward by degrees. A creeper on which he put his hand turned supple, bent toward him, and became a long legless creature with a flickering tongue. Thorinn flung it away, and climbed still more carefully, keeping to open spaces as well as he could. He was beginning to sweat. Nearby something swayed under a massive limb. It looked like a shaggy fruit, but it was big enough to hold five men. Thorinn avoided it and climbed. A little higher, two limbs growing level and side by side had put out branches to each other, making a platform ten ells long from which, here and there, other trees grew. At the end of this platform was something that looked remarkably like a hut. Thorinn approached the platform, found it had a floor of canes interwoven with the branches. The place was silent and empty. The hut at the far end had a peaked roof and an open doorway; it was half-walled, with black space showing all around under the roof.

  Thorinn's weariness took him: he went quietly up to the doorway and looked in. The hut was empty except for some mats in one corner. When he had made sure of this, Thorinn stood still and listened. The tree was full of faint movements, but none seemed near or threatening. He sat down on the mats, removed his pack and leaned against the wall, sword in hand. After a time he caught himself dozing and sat up with a start. The night was still. He closed his eyes, merely to rest them. He came awake with his heart pounding, knowing that he must not move. Outside in the greenlight, something gray and misshapen drifted down and disappeared beyond the half-wall of the hut; Thorinn felt the faint thump when it landed. It was like a man, but there was something wrong with it. He glimpsed another one falling, then heard low, grunting voices. He reached for his pack and put his arms through the loops, trying not to make a sound, but by ill luck the corner of the pack scraped against the floor. Instantly a gray form was in the doorway, another peering over the wall. Thorinn turned, dived over the opposite wall into the darkness. Something caught his leg as he went over, bringing him down hard against the platform, and he struck his head a blow that made it ring. When he tried to get up, he found his leg still held fast. The platform rustled and shook all around him. He glimpsed another gray shape and smelled its rank odor; then something struck him a harder blow on the cheekbone, and he drifted away into blackness.