Seeds of Earth

by Michael Cobley

  Likewise this vast cave, which they referred to as the

  Refulgence, or the Great Terrace or the Broken Dome,

  amongst several others which he assumed were also

  imposing caves buried deep beneath the mountain

  ranges of Darien. Yet all they would voice was the pre-

  posterous notion that he had been dispatched far into

  the depths of hyperspace to some kind of collapsed con-

  tinuum, the kind of fanciful idea one might hear from

  the shaman of a primitive culture and which he would

  normally have handed over to Harry to deal with.

  But Harry was silent and had been so since that ter-

  rifying ordeal in the Uvovo chamber. As was Rosa's

  intersim device which he had put in his gown pocket

  back at the Gangradur Falls. He knew that the batteries

  were fully charged yet when he turned it on it remained

  inert, unlit, blank, empty.

  Like me, he thought. Without Harry and Rosa I

  feel... alone.

  The path they were following was uneven and strewn

  with gravel, and damp with the water that seeped in

  from above and collected in a myriad little puddles. Up

  ahead, Track-Reski was waving one of its retractable

  stalk-arms at them from a side tunnel out of which a

  pearly runoff trickled.

  'We must take this stone lane,' it said. 'Enemies wait

  further ahead along Refulgence.'

  'Enemies?' Robert said, alarmed.

  'This way leads to the lithosphere of Abfagul,' said

  Tripod-Reski. 'That regime is inimical towards AI mechs

  such as we.'

  'True, but it is even more inimical towards our pur-

  suers,' Track-Reski said.

  'I have seen no pursuers,' Robert said. 'Who are these

  enemies?'

  A humming sound drew near and he turned to see his

  third escort bobbing and gliding along on an air cushion

  generated beneath its oval hull.

  'Enemies behind,' it said. 'Enemies across . . .'

  Gazing across the stalactite-bearded ceiling, Robert

  saw a black shape move in the gloom, long and writhing

  like a snake made of black smoke. As he watched it

  stretched and flowed up to the ceiling and began to

  advance across it.

  'We must go!' said Hover-Reski. 'Go now!'

  Urged on by his escorts and a jolt of unreasoning

  fear, he climbed up the sloping passage, quickly follow

  ing the glowing beams shining from Track-Reski's

  headlamps, gradually slowing as his strength ebbed. Yet

  still he stumbled along as the passage widened, its walls

  rising higher, and became a rocky path winding along

  the bottom of a long, gloomy fissure while an irregular,

  semi-musical clanging noise went on far above. Soon

  the narrow path became a tunnel again, which dipped

  downwards for a stretch, took an odd twist and turned

  back upwards, its dank darkness broken by the escort-

  ing mechs' wavering lamp beams.

  A grey oval emerged from the dark up ahead and

  soon Robert was clambering out of a hole on a grassy

  slope dotted with huge, mossy boulders. A thick, grey

  mist hung low in the cold, still air and the light was

  meagre and diffuse, like twilight or pre-dawn. Off to

  one side was a still, reflective pool of water, over which

  a group of odd insects with long writhing tendrils

  buzzed and spun and danced. Feeling weary he sat on

  the ground, heedless of the damp grass, watching the

  insects as he got his breath back.

  'This is the lithosphere of Abfagul,' said Tripod-Reski

  as it presented to Robert a square tablet of the fibrous

  ration that the mechs had been feeding him since his

  arrival.

  'Who or what is Abfagul?' Robert said as he bit and

  chewed.

  'Species and hierarchy,' said Hover-Reski as it glided

  past, heading downslope to scout further ahead.

  'Are they native to Darien?' Robert said. 'This climate

  feels as if it could be on the same latitude as the colony, yet

  I've seen no mention of another established culture ...'

  'Our apologies, Human Horst,' said Track-Reski, set-

  ting down a thin beaker of water for him. 'We cannot

  answer your queries - falsifying your frame of reference

  may have unwanted consequences.'

  Robert frowned and drank the water, resenting the

  comment.

  'You have offered no proof that we are in some deep

  level of hyperspace, as if the universe were built of

  layers!' He gestured around him. 'This seems like out-

  doors in a temperate climate, yet you call it a, what, a

  lithosphere?'

  'This lithosphere is one of several in this particular

  stratum,' said Tripod-Reski. 'Some of the others are

  almost on planetary-body scales, and thus prone to

  entropo-pressure collapse. This one is only about I

  thousand miles in diameter . . .'

  'All right,' Robert said, angry yet willing to humour

  his companions. 'Let's say that hyperspace is another

  kind of universe . . .'

  'Universes,' said Hover-Reski, emerging from behind

  a large split boulder.

  'The desiccated remains of dead universes sink down

  into hyperspace and accrete in a sedimentary fashion,'

  said Track-Reski. 'Do we have time to explain the struc-

  ture of the Strativerse?'

  'No,' said Hover- and Tripod-Reski in unison.

  'Then why have I been abducted?' Robert said, sud-

  denly angry at this ridiculous situation and wishing

  Harry was here.

  'Only the Construct can tell you that,' said Tripod

  Reski. 'And the sooner we reach the upgate, the sooner

  you will know.'

  After that they said little of substance as Robert

  allowed himself to be steered across an austere, hilly

  landscape veiled in an unending, misty dusk. Now and

  then, mournful, ululating cries reverberated through the

  sky overhead and once they heard something answer

  from far off behind them, a harsh implacable sound.

  Not long after they heard the same harsh call but now

  from ahead and away to the left.

  'Hunters are out,' said Hover-Reski.

  'Are they hunting us?' Robert said, suddenly anx-

  ious.

  'They hunt anything that strays into their sphere,'

  said Track-Reski. 'Luckily, the stone lane to the Great

  Terrace awaits us on the other side of the next hill . . .'

  Robert could feel his heart hammering and his throat

  ached from the quickness of his breath, but he felt relief

  when a tunnel entrance came into view. The three mechs

  paused on the crest of the hill to scan and map the

  immediate area before beginning their descent. They had

  all gone a few yards when the mechs suddenly leaped

  ahead, dashing downslope.

  'Quickly, Human Horst!' said one. 'Hostile is closing!'

  'But . . . where?' Robert said, breaking into a run,

  looking to either side and seeing nothing.

  'Above!'

  All he could do was snatch the briefest of upwards

  glances and almost stumbled when he saw the winged

  horror that was plumm
eting towards them, a writhing

  monstrosity of eyeless, snapping heads, hooked tentacles

  and clutching claws. The mechs were now only slightly

  ahead of him and they reached the mouth of the tunnel

  and dived inside just as the monster landed heavily and,

  with a deafening, multi-throated roar, threw itself after

  them.

  Gasping and wheezing from the effort, Robert stag-

  gered to a halt to lean against the tunnel wall and get his

  breath back.

  'Keep running, Human Horst!' said Tripod-Reski.

  '... sorry . .. need to ...'

  The little mech grabbed the flapping hem of his gown

  and pulled at it with surprising strength. In the next

  moment the tunnel shook as the winged monster

  rammed itself up against the entrance, claws tearing at

  its edges while tentacles tipped with gleaming pincers

  and fanged mouths snaked forward. The tunnel floor

  trembled, stones and clumps of earth fell from its roof,

  and now all three mechs were urging Robert to retreat.

  'Back to solid rock, human Horst,' said Track-Reski.

  'Before entrance collapses.'

  The grotesque beast was grinding and gouging the

  tunnel wider, howling with a dozen mouths as it tried to

  wedge itself further along. Running and stumbling along-

  side the mechs, Robert heard the deep rumble of a cave-in

  from behind, followed by a muffled roar of hate and fury.

  Clouds of dust puffed up from the collapse, and several

  yards on Robert's knees gave way and he sat down in the

  dirt, legs akimbo, gasping for breath, massaging a pain in

  his side.

  'What was ... that.. . thing} .. .'

  'Abfagul,' said Hover-Reski as it hummed off downs-

  lope. 'Small one ...'

  48

  CATRIONA

  The hunt was nearing its conclusion. She and her

  troupe, two Listeners and eighteen Scholars, had paused

  up in the subcanopy to await the arrival of another

  Listener and five Scholars from Seacloud on the north-

  ern coast. They were some 900 feet above the forest

  floor with the light of day waning, golden yellow shad-

  ing into amber and filtering down through Segrana's

  leafy veils. Gloom was already seeping into the cooling

  depths, but Cat knew where their quarries were because

  her eyes had other eyes to help her—

  From its perch on a low, leafy branch, the kizpi

  watches the clearing. A crouching, camouflaged figure

  creeps slowly through the undergrowth at one side, its

  featureless armoured head moving from side to side to

  360 its sensor sweep, its short-bodied and undoubtedly

  lethal weapon held two-handed and aimed forward.

  Eyes that she could search for and with, but only for

  short spans of time - using these small creatures like

  this panicked them, causing them to dart away into the

  shadows. But now, some 30 yards west of the kizpi, she

  had found an umisk, a flighted lizard with excellent eye-

  sight and hearing. It had just caught and eaten a large,

  juicy insect and had paused on a branch to preen a few

  dislodged feathers when movement below snared its

  attention—

  Ghosting through undergrowth with precise steps,

  the intruder stops to scan its surroundings, around and

  above. The diminishing light gleams dully on the

  helmet visor as it turns and tilts up, arms raising the

  weapon along the same line of sight. Its short barrel

  gives the tiniest of jerks along with a quiet, flicking

  sound, and an arboreal animal, grazer or hunter, falls

  to the forest floor with a rustling thud. The intruder

  moves on.

  Cat let the umisk slip away, aware of the many other

  small beasts going about their business in that earthy

  darkness. It was actually possible to use her bonds with

  Segrana to call on the senses of all creatures in the forest

  surrounding the Ezgara, thereby studying it in the

  round, but there would be little advantage to it. Besides,

  such an act would leave her weak and mentally exhausted

  when right now she needed all of her faculties, both old

  and new.

  'They know we're here,' she told the Listener who sat

  on the branch next to her.

  'Will they be aware of what we have done to their

  devices?' said Listener Malir, a Warrior Uvovo from

  Overstream.

  It had only been hours since scouts discovered

  charges set against the central pillar-trees of three main

  buttress clusters, the outer north, outer northeast, and

  outer east. With the use of potent acid (from several

  poroon beetles) and quick-setting syldu sap, the trigger

  mechanisms were rendered inert. But Cat was sure that

  these Ezgara were getting scanning and update infor-

  mation from somewhere, possibly a small satellite left in

  orbit which could also provide links to their bombs.

  When they were disarmed, some alarm might have been

  set off, warning the commandos that their presence had

  been detected. Hence their high state of alertness as they

  headed southwest, straight towards Pilipoint Station.

  A lanky Uvovo swung down from an adjacent tree to

  join Cat and Listener Malir.

  'Honourable Listener and Pathmistress,' he said, eyes

  wide. 'The Seacloud Listener approaches.'

  That was what they were calling her - Pathmistress.

  She didn't like it but the Listeners of Highsonglade had

  decided on it soon after waking from the Segrana-sent

  dream they had all undergone. And when she went out

  into Segrana's dense heartlands she found that the

  dream had not been a localised event. It helped when

  she needed information and scouts but made her feel a

  kind of responsibility she had never experienced before.

  But she was able to put that to one side and focus on her

  task, the bargain she had made, the protection of

  Segrana and the People of the Leaves.

  The Listener from Seacloud was called Okass and his

  five Scholars were all armed with fishcatcher whips with

  which, they asserted, they could snatch a weapon from

  unaware hands in the blink of an eye. She decided to

  send them with Malir and his seven Scholars while she

  accompanied the other Listener, Juso from Skygarden,

  whose eleven were skilled with nets.

  Malir and Okass moved away and downwards, fol-

  lowing Cat's directions towards the more westerly of

  the two intruders while she and Juso went after the

  other. While the Uvovo could travel with swift agility,

  Cat was forced to make do with a trictra, strapping into

  the leathery harness then following on through the inter-

  woven branches and lichenous curtains of vines. Her

  strange connection to Segrana allowed her to catch

  glimpses of the two quarries as well as the Uvovo con-

  verging on them, and it was soon apparent that the

  Ezgara knew what was happening. Abandoning stealth,

  both were charging full-tilt through the forest, with 1 he

  Uvovo leaping from tree to tree and gaining on them.


  And it was Malir and Okass's Scholars who pounced

  first, seeking to snare the intruder's feet and disarm him

  in one fell swoop. But the Ezgara proved wily, jumped

  the hook-tipped whip meant for his ankles, ducked and

  rolled under the one coming for his compact rifle. Then

  sprayed the forest to either side with arcs of needles or

  spines from the smaller weapons held in his lower hands.

  Someone shrieked in agony and fell but the hunt contin-

  ued.

  Catriona lost track of the chase then - most small

  animals had fled the immediate area, frightened by the

  violence. Moments later she heard a harsh, muffled

  buzz coming in short bursts. More cries, then an

  uneasy silence. She scoured the nearby forest from the

  depths to the heights and found a long-backed vithni a

  female out hunting for her cubs. It was easy to per-

  suade her that tasty grubs lay in a certain direction

  and soon -

  The vithni clambers along a series of low branches,

  keeping pace with the party of exultant Uvovo who are

  carrying a bound figure on their shoulders. Its helmet

  and armoured jacket are missing and Cat is astonished

  to see that the Ezgara has a very Humanlike face, well-

  proportioned male features with calm grey eyes gazing

  fixedly upwards. The man does not struggle yet a certain

  intensity emerges in his face, the eyes beginning to widen

  and stare, the lips drawing back from the teeth, a

  flushed hue spreading red and mottled over the skin.

  Then his head starts to tremble, his eyes show the

  whites, he smiles and fire blooms in his mouth before an

  explosion blots out everything

  The bond with the vithni vanished and a thunderous

  detonation reverberated through the forest. Cat gasped

  at the severed connection, gasping for breath, almost

  stunned with disbelief. The spidery trictra beneath her

  shifted nervously while she tried to calm herself in the

  face of this new horror. A suicide self-destruct - was

  this another example of Sendrukan cruelty?

  'Quickly,' she said to the Scholar escorting her. 'Rush

  ahead and tell Juso that I want him to hold back, leave

  the intruder alone but keep tracking him.'

  The young Scholar nodded eagerly and was off, dis-

  appearing into the shadowy trees while Cat urged the

  trictra on. Cries of pain filtered through the forest from