by Vernor Vinge
Jorkenrud slipped from her fingers, the relentless pull of the bush winning at last. As his body disappeared from view, there might have been one last scream, silenced with a crunching sound.
Bodies tumbled all around, bleeding.
She was on her feet, staggering back. She had never been in a fight before, but Johanna had regaled her with stories. Against even one pack, an unarmed human would be the loser. Stay on your feet. Climb some place where packs can’t follow.
Something slammed into her from behind, sweeping her off her feet. Jefri! Then she was looking down, from over his shoulder. He was quickly backing away from the battle, of which she could now see nothing! Parts of Amdi swirled around them, bloodied. Amdi was unarmed, but Jefri still had his axe. She could feel him swing it, hear the screaming. He staggered, turned, and she had a glimpse of Screwfloss. That pack was armed in every jaw and forepaw, even the limper. Between them, Screwfloss and Jefri were making a controlled retreat from—not so much a pack as a killing mob, three from Raggedy Ears, two from the wagoneers.
They’d reached the nearest of the wagons. They had all of Screwfloss; if she wasn’t counting anybody twice, Amdi was still eight. He had split into three groups and raced ahead, heading for the kherhogs
Jefri shrugged Ravna to the ground. “Help Amdi. We’re getting out of here.”
In this, Ravna really could contribute. One two-legs was worth at least four pack members when it came to dealing with kherhogs. She got her animal hooked up to the front wagon before Amdi was done with the other animals. Her own kherhog was cooperative—maybe too much so; the wagon was already moving forward. The kherhog didn’t want to be near the screaming carnivores.
“Don’t let it run away!” shouted Amdi, even as he scrambled to guide the second and third wagons. There was blood all over him, but he was eight for sure.
Behind them, Jefri and Screwfloss were continuing the defense. The enemy mob ran back and forth across the trail behind them, darting forward repeatedly. Jefri held the center of the line, but Screwfloss—all but the limper—was rushing back and forth, cutting and slashing, matching the desperation of the attackers with his own brand of mad rage, chasing any who tried to flank the rear wagon and go after Ravna and Amdi.
Meter by meter, their three wagons proceeded away from the campsite. Ravna walked beside the lead kherhog. It wasn’t pulling so nervously now. She had no trouble keeping up and staying on her feet. She glanced back. From somewhere under her own mortal panic, a tiny horrified vision rose … of the nightmare that faced their enemy: The two from the wagoneers, the three from Chitiratifor, they were now about fifty meters from the trees that held the rest of themselves. They were beyond the reach of their mindsounds. Pursuit would be mindless and would give up any chance of pack survival.
The two wagoneer members broke first, turning and heading back toward the campsite. The three of Chitiratifor shrieked rage at this desertion, then shrieked rage at the escapees. The fragment took one more wild charge at Jefri and Screwfloss, and then turned back, desperate to save itself.
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“The ones in the bushes, they’re all dead, or they will be soon, either suffocated or crushed.” That’s what Screwfloss said when she asked him about Gannon and the others. His words were flippant, even more than usual. “Heh. What we gotta hope is Chitiratifor dies slowly, so what’s left doesn’t come after us till we are well gone.”
They were pushing on as fast as they could go. It had been light when they escaped, but now twilight was deepening into night and the wagons’ progress had slowed. For that matter, how do you do first aid when you can’t see the injuries? The stolen lamps were somewhere on the wagons, but they couldn’t stop and dig them out. When there had still been light, she had seen the general size of the problem. Everyone was cut up to some extent. Over the last ten years, Ravna had done her best to learn about first aid. Jefri’s forearm needed a pressure bandage. She had managed that, and he understood how to maintain it. Amdi had looked ghastly, blood oozing now from three of his heads—and yet he seemed to be thinking as clearly as ever. Okay, maybe they were just scalp wounds, not near his tympana. She had wrapped his heads in strips torn from their cloaks. That made it harder for Amdi to hear himself think, but the bleeding stopped. “I’m fine,” he said, “I just gotta pay more attention to where I’m at. Please. Check on Screwfloss.”
Now it was really dark. One of Screwfloss was aboard the rear wagon, driving it along. The rest of him was sprawled in an exhausted jumble atop the second wagon with Ravna.
“We should stop, get you properly bandaged up,” said Ravna.
“Naeh,” said Screwfloss. “We gotta keep moving. How is Amdijefri?”
Ravna looked around. Jefri was walking by the lead kherhog, guiding it along. All eight of Amdi was trotting beside the middle wagon and its kherhog, keeping them on the road. “I’m good,” said Amdi, but he was looking up at Screwfloss anxiously. “Are you all right?”
Screwfloss replied, “You did great tonight, Little Ones.”
Ravna brushed her hand across the nearest of Screwfloss. “But are you okay, Screwfloss?”
“Am I okay? Am I okay? What kind of an idiot are you? I still have the broken leg you gave me; it hurts like hell. Then tonight you screwed us into trying to rescue Jorkenrud. He was more of a dirtbag than either of the wagoneers, you know that?”
Ravna was taken aback, remembering the moment when all she could think of was saving Gannon. She’d never thought of herself as a racist. That was a Straumer vice. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Screwfloss. It’s just that I knew Gannon, I knew all the kids, when they were younger. I felt responsible.”
Screwfloss emitted a soft laugh. “Would you have done the same if you’d known he was the one who smashed your face into the side of the fodder wagon? Never mind, I’m afraid you would have. You and Woodcarver are both so soft-hearted.”
Woodcarver soft-hearted? Compared to what?
Screwfloss shifted uneasily under her hands, but let her touch and probe. She could see so little now, but there was blood all over, like Amdi. Keep him talking. “You were on our side from the beginning, Screwfloss. But you were part of Nevil’s conspiracy, too.”
“Of course I was! Didn’t Flenser tell you he had tunneled into the conspiracy? You can’t do that without being pretty damn credible.”
“You had me fooled about the trees, right up to when the arrows didn’t start flying.”
“Heh, I had a good time with that. There really are arrow trees, you know. Just not anywhere near here. The crusherbushes are much rarer, a transient stage in the way these forests sometimes regrow. I couldn’t believe our luck the other night when I saw that crusher grab you. My lies practically told themselves, though Chitiratifor was the perfect ignoramus. I don’t know why Vendacious put up with him all these years. Remasritlfeer wouldn’t have been fooled. But then he wanted you for Tycoon. We should be glad that’s not gonna happen. We have a chance. We just gotta avoid Vendacious and Tycoon, and wiggle our asses back to the Domain.”
It suddenly occurred to Ravna that she was in the middle of someone who could explain most of the deadly mysteries, and who surely must be a friend.
Twilight was past, but now the moon stood low in the south, its light chopping the forest floor into silver and shadow.
She used an open stretch of road to peer down between Screwfloss’ huddled members. He wasn’t talking so much now, though the one on the other wagon was peering alertly into the gloom, taking advantage of the moonlight just as she was. Then she realized that except for the outlier driving the rear wagon, Screwfloss was huddling, the dazed reaction of a pack that doesn’t consciously understand how badly it is injured.
“Talk to me, Screwfloss.”
The pack gave its human chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I bet you have a million questions. And I have lots of answers, though if we knew exactly what was going on we’d never have wound up in this mess.” He mumbled to himself for a
moment. “We didn’t realize how important Vendacious was. We didn’t realize he might double-cross Tycoon. We didn’t realize they would grab so much and all at once.”
The words weren’t slurred. The actual sounds were coming from all the pack. But there was a singsong cadence to the delivery; some member was not pulling its mental weight. Ravna slipped her hands gently between him, trying to encourage the pack to get out of its huddle. Here and there a jaw snapped at her distractedly, but the four slid apart. There was so much blood.
The one protected by the huddle was in a pool of it. The critter was humming to itself, not really in pain. In the reflected moonlight she could see it turn its head toward her, the faint glitter in its open eyes. She ran her hand up its shoulder, felt a faintly pulsing gash just short of its neck, the blood flowing past her fingers.
“Jefri!” she shouted.
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Ravna and Jefri and Amdi did what they could, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She’d stopped the bleeding. They’d found a clearing, coaxed Screwfloss down to lie in the moonlight, where they could find all his injuries. By then the one member was silent and unconscious, and it was too late to save it. The death was a peaceful, painless ending. It might not have happened if there had been pain and whistling screams. Instead, the member had quietly bled and bled, its pack just dazed enough to miss the mortal peril.…
CHAPTER 22
After that one stop, they rolled on through the night and into the next day, till fatigue stopped humans and packs and kherhogs.
Ravna took another look at everyone’s wounds. Jefri and Amdi were keeping a nervous lookout all around, but mainly back along the way they had come. “I don’t think any of the surviving fragments could have chased us this far,” said Jefri.
“So what does Screwfloss think of this theory?” asked Ravna.
What remained of Screwfloss looked more lively than Jef and Amdi. After they stopped the wagons, it had slid off into the woods, a self-appointed scouting party. Yet now the remnant hissed when she tried to tend its wounds. The four were snouting around in the front wagon. After a moment, it pulled emergency rations out of the depths of a cabinet and began eating. It chewed grumpily, looking speculatively at the surrounding trees.
Amdi said, “I’m afraid he can’t talk anymore.” Amdi detoured around Screwfloss and brought both human and pack rations to where Ravna and Jefri had settled. She ate as much as she could. She was so tired. Everything was a bit of a blur. Today was actually warm. There was a faint, keening whine all around, gnats rising from every pond and river stillness.
Finally what Amdi had said percolated through her muzziness. “I’ve seen many packs of four,” she said. “They can talk well enough.”
“If that’s how they’ve made themselves,” said Jefri. He was sitting at the edge of Amdi, still a couple of meters from Ravna. She noticed that he still avoided her eyes, but there was an occasional flickering glance, challenging as often as not. He continued, “It should be obvious: the one that died was a principal speech center. So no more Samnorsk. It looks like his Interpack speech has gone, too.”
“We should keep trying,” said Amdi. “What’s left has some speech capacity, I know it.” Amdi was shaking his heads this way and that, but not as fierce negation; he was just trying to wave the gnats away.
Jefri brushed helpfully at Amdi’s nearest faces. “Could be. It’ll be a while before we know what’s left of his mind.”
“So he’s a little like I was,” said Ravna. But he won’t let anyone help him.
Jefri nodded. “A little. But in many ways, he’s an able-bodied pack. He drove his wagon well. His other wounds are minor.”
The subject of their conversation didn’t seem to be paying attention. He came to his feet and ambled over to the middle wagon. Being only four, his limping member seemed to affect the gait of the other three. Two of him flipped up the door on the wagon and searched around inside. When they hopped back to earth, they were holding a leather satchel and what looked like soap and clean cloaks. He swatted at the swirling gnats with his new cloaks, then turned and shambled off in the direction of the river.
Ravna gave a surprised laugh. “He’s going to wash up. I guess he isn’t too concerned!”
Jefri came to his feet. “Yeah, but none of us should do that alone.” He started after the foursome, but it directed a warning hiss back in his direction.
Jefri settled back down. “Okay. I never understood Screwfloss, even when he was whole.” He glanced sidelong at Amdi.
“Yes,” said Amdi. “Sneaky, funny, Flenser-renser.” He looked at Jefri and Jefri looked back and Ravna wondered if the two were having one of their cryptic conversations. It always seemed that there was more going on between these two than she knew. It had been cute when they were little.…
A gnat scored on her neck, another on her hand. She swatted them, but there were clouds of replacements. The Old Screwfloss’ predictions about bloodsuckers had really come true. If only he could say “I told you so.”
She looked at Amdi and Jefri and saw that they were looking back at her. In fact, all of Amdi was looking at her. “We have a lot to talk about,” she finally said.
Amdi scrunched down into the moldering needles of the forest floor. Some of him looked at each other, some looked at Ravna. “We are so sorry, Ravna,” he finally said.
Jefri was silent for a moment, then slapped the ground angrily. “But we did what I thought was right!” he said. His glance flickered back to her face. “I couldn’t believe Nevil was behind the murders and kidnappings, but then Screwfloss told us you were being snatched. We figured that we might be able to get you out of your house first. And you did escape—”
Ravna nodded. “Screwfloss got me down the stairs and out-of-doors.” And probably quicker than any civilized explaining would have.
“Y-yes. It almost worked, but Chitiratifor was too fast. He had a crossbow pointed at your back once you got into the street.”
Ravna leaned back against a wagon wheel. Chitiratifor would have welcomed a fatal “accident.” So Jef and Amdi had made a big deal of grabbing her and then coming along. She could believe that. “Okay, Jefri. But why earlier? Why at Nevil’s big meeting…” Why did you betray me?
Jefri the teenage lout might have shrugged angrily, or thrown up some counterattack. This Jefri let the pain and anger come into his face, but his voice was level. He was making an honest attempt to explain: “I thought—Powers help me, I still think—that you and Johanna have the most important things exactly backwards. Something very bad happened at the High Lab, but I know our scientists were the best of Straumli Realm. They would not have been as stupid as you think.”
“I’ve never said they were stupid.”
“Never those precise words, but oh, we kids know you, Ravna. In the early years you were as close as a Best Friend. We could tell by your silences, by what you didn’t say about our folks and the High Lab—we could tell what you think of them.”
Ravna couldn’t deny his accusation.
Jefri gave a little nod and continued. “Nevil brought all the facts together. He convinced me to speak unforgivable lies about you. But Ravna, I remember the High Lab. We Straumers had things going our way. We were becoming something … awesome. It was Countermeasure that was the poison.”
“Johanna doesn’t believe that.”
“I love Johanna, but she’s never been tech-oriented. She saw less of the High Lab than some of the Children. Now she’s a lot like the Larsndots, turning away from our destiny.”
“You’re a Denier.”
“Don’t call me that! Most of the Children, if you really talk to them about their memories of the High Lab, would agree about this. They’re just very shy of correcting someone they … respect … as much as they do you.”
“Even so, Jefri. You recognize that Nevil is evil?”
Jefri looked away from her, as if refusing to answer. After a moment, Amdi said, “You know he’s evil, Jefri.
”
Finally, Jef said, “I tried so hard to believe otherwise. Maybe there were sensible explanations for the strange things Amdi and I noticed when we were chasing the Tropicals. Or maybe even, Nevil had been duped by some monster like Vendacious … but when I saw Gannon smash your face into the side of the fodder wagon…” His gaze flickered back to Ravna. “Every day afterwards, I had to listen to his detailed bragging. And you know what? Almost all the mayhem Gannon committed was at Nevil’s explicit instruction. So yes, Nevil is evil.”
Amdi was nodding, yes, yes, yes.
Jefri wasn’t finished: “And now, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you safely back to the Domain, and to … deal with … Nevil. But when that is done”—his gaze was defiant and desperate all at once—“there are still the Greater Threats, and I’m afraid they’ll leave us as absolute enemies.”
Oh, Powers. These last ten years, Ravna had imagined the future as a long climb to a faraway confrontation. What deadly foothills stood in the way of that! “Okay, Jefri. One step at a time. Don’t worry about being enemies someday.”
Blessed Amdi. He brightened instantly. “Yes! Let the future take care of itself.” He bounced to his feet and flowed around Jefri to sit in snuggly closeness with both humans. Clouds of gnats followed him along. The bugs really did like Tines more than humans. “We have serious problems in the here and now.”
Ravna leaned forward, counting noses. “Where’s the rest of you, Amdi?”
“Oh! I’m strung out into bushes that way,”—he jabbed a nose—“making sure that Screwfloss is okay. He won’t let me come close, but I can hear him splashing around. If he has a problem, we can come running. Meantime, we’ve got to decide what to do next.” He wriggled against her and patted her hand. “We should take inventory…”
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Amdi was right. Thinking about the problems of the next day and tenday was almost a comfort. They might be caught, they might be killed, but at least they weren’t busy betraying each other.