“As fast as the Cavaquinho?”
“That was forty years ago. I’d like to think we’ve progressed since then.”
He began to bark commands into the voice pipe, and Raoul heard the crew running on deck. The car lurched, and a rasping squeal announced that the brakes had been applied for Rangua South Stage.
The brawl on Cadalla.
The shrugleggers were creatures of little consequence. In the year 83,426 Cyclic Mankind was still lumbering about the Galaxy in his three-dimensional spaceships and although he’d already met the kikihuahuas and absorbed some of their culture, their mode of travel was too slow for him, and the Outer Think was over a thousand years in the Ifalong. So he rode his metal ships and he suffered the unaccountable accidents to which such crude transport was prone.
The tender from Spacehawk crash-landed on Ilos III.
Ilos III was known as the Mud Planet because much of its surface was covered with a suppurating volcanic ooze much prized for its cosmetic properties. Its only inhabitant of any consequence was a human-sized armless biped with gigantic thighs which spent its time foraging in the ooze and had been ignored by exobiologists, until the crash.
The tender’s commander, his ship gradually sinking in the mud, watched by open-mouthed shrugleggers, was struck by an idea. Using morsels of reconstituted fish as bait he tempted the shrugleggers near, then slipped ropes around them, harnessing them to the ship. Twenty shrugleggers were enough. They had enormous strength in their legs, and soon the tender began to glide towards dry land.
The Captain of Spacehawk was interested in his commander’s report. It represented a co-operation between Man and beast very much in accordance with the spirit of the Kikihuahua Examples which were becoming popular back on Earth. Those days, the spaceships with their prodigious energy consumption were attracting adverse publicity. The Captain saw a chance to show that space captains, too, were working towards the eventual partnership of Man and Nature.
In the name of the Examples he shipped a hundred shrugleggers back to Earth for use as beasts of burden in rural areas. The experiment was a failure — Earth’s civilizations were not ready to embrace the Examples quite so readily — and the shrugleggers were banished to a remote corner of Lake Titicaca where they strode the shallows in peace for almost forty thousand years, until the coming of the sailways.
Then, at last, their value was realized.
The bargaining was over. Grumbling, Captain Tonio returned to his cabin. “Damned bandits,” he was muttering.
Raoul watched from the foredeck as the shrugleggers were hitched on. The head felino was a large young man who seemed to have a good opinion of himself; Raoul heard the others call him Torch. He was competent, Raoul allowed that — conscious of a twinge of jealousy that this Specialist, little older than himself, held a position of some authority among his own people.
Whereas he, Raoul, was regarded as a child.…
Torch yelled, the felinos cracked their whips, and the car began its slow ascent to Rangua Town. Raoul sat on the rail, dreaming, watching the plodding movement of the shrugleggers’ haunches, when an astonishing thing happened.
A felina swung onto the car and sat on the foredeck.
He stared at her, resenting her intrusion into his domain. She was about the same age as he, with wide slanting eyes and, like all felinas, an air of barely-suppressed violence.
“You’re not allowed up here,” he said.
“Then throw me off,” she answered, looking directly into his eyes in a way which caused a sudden emptiness in his stomach.
“Listen,” he said after a moment during which nothing happened. “Get off here, will you?”
“I know your name,” she said. “You’re Raoul. You’re Captain Tonic’s son.”
He thought he’d seen her before; but then, all felinas looked alike. He glanced behind him, but the crew were immersed in a game of Rebellion on an improvised board scratched into the deck; they muttered together, clicking counters. His father and the passengers were all below. The girl was cleaner than most of her kind, and quite beautiful in an animal way.
Cautiously he asked, “What’s your name?”
“It’s Karina. El Tigre is my father.” Now she smiled, and something of the sun entered Raoul’s body.
“El Tigre? He’s a bandido.”
Karina tensed and her fingers curled instinctively, and the nails itched for action. Just in time she recalled the reason for her presence here on this goddamned sailcar with this goddamned True Human brat. She was going to discover the secrets of the delta, and prove to her father that she was capable of looking after herself among True Humans. She was going to kill two rheas with one rock.
She would captivate this kid. True Humans couldn’t resist felinas. And then, when he was crazy for her, he would tell her about the delta, the Rayo, his father Tonio, his mother, what he ate for breakfast, everything.
She glanced at him slyly, smiled, and wriggled where she sat so that her tunic rose up towards her hips. Then she stretched catlike, arching her back and clasping her hands behind her neck. She tilted her head back, relishing the sun on her face and his eyes on her body.
“What in hell are you doing here, Karina?”
It was Torch. His face dark with fury, he swung himself onto the deck. He stood scowling down at her, not unnaturally misunderstanding what he saw.
Karina swiftly assumed a demure attitude, hands folded in her lap, sliding backwards so that her tunic was stretched down to her ankles. Unfortunately this had the effect of exposing most of her breasts. Raoul was still staring at her, hardly aware of Torch’s intrusion.
“Just taking a ride, Torch,” she said sweetly.
“Well, get off and get back to the camp! This is directly against El Tigre’s orders!”
“I’m happy where I am, thanks.”
“I can see that! You’ll be in big trouble when your father hears about this, Karina!” His eyes were hot with rage and lust. “By the Sword of Agni, you need to be taught a lesson!”
“You’re not my father, Torch.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll be squiring your grupo before long!”
Karina gave a short laugh of incredulity. “You squire our grupo? You?”
“Your father is in agreement.”
“Yes, because you suck up to him, agreeing with everything he says. But what about me? Do I agree? What about Runa and Saba? What about Teressa, Torch? She’d claw the face off you, and more besides. Think about Teressa, Torch, before you start getting ideas about our grupo!”
“When the squire is ordained, all grupo members must concur,” said Torch loftily, his desire temporarily forgotten in the niceties of cultural argument. “Your grupo has no mother, therefore your squire will be ordained by El Tigre. It is the custom.”
“Piss on the custom,” said Karina.
“What did you say, Karina?” Torch could hardly believe his ears. Karina’s contempt for felino culture had genuinely shocked him. “Did you say piss on the custom, Karina?”
Raoul gave a shout of laughter. Torch glanced at him, hardly seeing him.
“That’s what I said,” said Karina. “Those were my exact words.”
“Would you care to explain them further?” Torch took refuge in his dignity.
Karina opened her mouth, Raoul regarding her with respect and delight, and was about to expound her views on customs in general and Torch’s sexual desires in particular when there was an unwelcome interruption.
“Just what in hell are these felinos doing on my deck, Raoul?” said Captain Tonio grimly, emerging from below.
“Come on out of here,” snapped Torch, dragging Karina to her feet.
Furious, she aimed a swift kick at his crotch. Torch saw it coming, sidestepped, grabbed her foot and heaved. Karina turned a rapid midair somersault and landed lightly on all fours. Snarling with rage, she hurled herself at Torch’s throat. He seized the ratlines above his head and met Karina’s leap with the full force o
f both feet.
“Animals …!” Tonio was shouting. “Where in hell are my crew?”
Karina rolled end over end and fetched up against the deck railing with a crash. Torch dropped into a crouch and awaited her next attack.
Raoul kicked Torch violently in the buttocks.
Now Torch, caught completely by surprise, pitched forward onto the deck. Karina pounced on him, threw an arm around his neck and began to drag his head back. He uttered one strangled grunt, then began to fight grimly for his life. Unable to shake Karina off, he rose unsteadily to his feet, lurched across the deck popeyed and throttled, and began to climb the ratlines with Karina affixed to his back like some infant primate. When he judged he had enough height he let go.
They hit the deck with a crash, Karina underneath.
The crew, appearing belatedly, saw their chance and moved in. The contestants were pried apart and pinioned. Karina was gulping for air, hardly able to stand. Reaction hit her and she urinated uncontrollably, wetness streaming hotly down her legs.
“Get her off my deck!” shouted Captain Tonio, outraged. “There are passengers below!”
Torch was in little better shape, but he was able to shake himself free from his captors. He took Karina by the elbow. “Come on,” he said. Leading her to the rail, he bent down, seized her thigh, and pitched her unceremoniously over the edge. Then he turned to face the True Humans and, summoning the tattered remains of his dignity, said, “I must apologize for her behavior, Captain Tonio. It will not happen again, I can assure you. You must understand, there is no mother to teach discretion to her grupo. All this will change when I am ordained as their squire.…”
He was already bigger than any of the True Human crew despite his youth, and the figure he cut hovered uncertainly between strength and pathos.
“That’s all right,” said Tonio unhappily. “Forget it, forget it.”
“All the same,” said Torch slowly as though the words were forced out of him by the pressure of his own pride, “If I hear you refer to me as an animal again, Captain Tonio, I will kill you.”
With a final venomous glance at Raoul he vaulted over the rail and was gone.
Astrud.
“He’s such a big boy,” said Astrud. “It’s difficult to discipline him. This felina — how friendly was she? What was she like?”
“Like any other felina,” said Tonio. “Pretty and aggressive, and she fought like a tiger. Red-haired, though. That’s unusual. Her father’s El Tigre.”
“The El Tigre?” Astrud regarded her husband in some alarm. “He’s the revolutionary, isn’t he?”
“He’d like to be a revolutionary, but there simply isn’t going to be a revolution.” Tonio felt the need to explain. “Right now, True Humans and felinos are dependent on each other — we have this mutual interest, the sailways. From Portina right down the coast to Rio de la Plata we and the felinos operate the sailways together — that’s nearly a thousand kilometers of track covering eight Cantons. If it wasn’t for the sailways, we’d be a string of warring coastal tribes, the way we were centuries ago. But the sailways have joined us together so now we have trade instead of wars, and everyone’s better for it.
“And now, a few of the felinos are saying they want their share of the trade. They say they’re not satisfied with the fees they earn from towing. They want their own sailcars. And we can’t let that happen.”
“Why not?” Up here in Rangua hill country she was sheltered from politics — and Tonio rarely discussed his work.
Tonio walked to the window. He could see the Atlantic bright in the sun, with the grassy downs rolling to the beach, and the guanacos grazing. The sailway ran across the downs and a car was passing, sail brilliant with sunshine and bearing the emblem of its owner: the whale of Rio Pele. Squat, powerful crewmen were hauling on ropes and Tonio cocked a practiced eye at the wind indicators relative to the sails; and he decided the captain knew his business. To the south he could see the lower boundaries of the tumpfields, and one of the gigantic tumps was in view, like a great gray slug with the tiny figure of the tumpier perched on its back. This was his life; this was his place in the hill country and he wouldn’t want anything to change.
He said, “The felinos control the hills. There are over thirty hills on the coast which are too steep for the cars to climb unassisted, so we have to use shrugleggers. Only felinos can make shrugleggers work. Why? Because the shrugleggers are scared of the felinos.” He checked off the points on his fingers. “Because the felinos have jaguar genes in their make-up and by Agni the shrugleggers can sense it!
“Now, just imagine if the felinos could operate their own cars. For a start, they wouldn’t have to pay towing fees, which is one of the biggest items in any voyage, believe me. So they’d be able to undercut the Canton and Company rates, and get a big share of the trade. Not only that, but there are certain prestige runs where they could block our craft.”
“Like the Tortuga Races?”
“Exactly. They’d make a killing on the tortugas. Our craft would never get past Rangua North Stage. They’d hold them up while they let their own cars through, and they’d get all the best prices while our own cargoes went rotten and started exploding. No. The one thing we can’t let happen, is for the felinos to get their own sailcars.” He sighed. “The felinos think we don’t like them — and God forgive me I called them animals today. But it’s not that. It’s simply a matter of survival. We can both survive if we stay apart and stick to our separate jobs. But if we let the felinos in on our job when we don’t have the physical characteristics to do theirs, then we cut our own throats.”
Astrud made her way slowly up the stairs towards the bedroom of Raoul, her son the stranger. Her mind was in the past, remembering that bewildering, hurtful day when Tonio had mocked her barrenness by bringing a baby into the house and assuming, without question or explanation, that she would bring it up as if it were her own.
She’d tried, as a devout follower of the Examples must try, and as the years went by she’d learned to love Raoul because, after all, the situation was no fault of his. But she could never understand Tonio’s attitude, or give any credence to his ridiculous story that some woman had given him the child one day. It was like a legend told by an old man at the inn, or one of those odd songs the Pegman sang. No — she was morally certain the baby was Tonio’s, and she felt he ought to have the decency to tell him who the mother was.
And yet Raoul bore no resemblance to Tonio and sometimes, when some trick of the light threw his cheekbones into relief and shaded in the hollows of his eyes, he didn’t look like a True Human at all. Even his hair was a strange color, and she regularly anointed it with a dark resinous oil to tone it down.
Thrusting the disturbing image aside, she knocked on Raoul’s door.
He opened it and smiled at her. He looked the way he always did, and she reprimanded herself for her fancies.
“How’s father?” he asked. “Has he come down from the trees yet?”
“Your father is understandably upset by your behaviour, Raoul,” she heard herself say woodenly. “And there’s no call to compare him to some monkeyish Specialist. Sit down. We have to talk, you and I.”
“Oh?” He put aside a model he was carving with a shell knife; a fine replica of a sailcar of the historic Cavaquinho type. He was clever with his hands, she had to allow him that. Like a monkey.… He smiled again, divining her hesitation. “What do you want to talk about, mother?”
“Oh …!” She uttered a small noise of exasperation and sat down on the bed. “You know very well what, Raoul. That Specialist girl. El Tigre’s daughter. You were talking to her.”
“Nobody said there was anything wrong with talking to Specialists. The Examples say we share the same world. They say we’re all humans.”
She watched this boy, knowing that he was playing with her, wondering how she could beat him at his own game. In the end he could always shock her, she knew; because she was a devout Believer. She
decided to get her shock in first.
“Karina was showing her body to you, Raoul — inviting you to have sex when she knew perfectly well you wouldn’t be able to do that on the deck of a sailcar in broad daylight. So she wasn’t being fair to you.”
He looked away. She’d got through to him. She thought he even flushed at hearing those words come from his saintly mother. “It’s just her way,” he said. “The Kikihuahua Examples say —”
“Raoul, don’t keep throwing the Examples in my face just because I’m a better Believer than you. The Examples say that people shouldn’t eat meat, but the felinos eat meat. They’ve built up a whole bartering system with the tumpiers over the centuries, just to satisfy their craving.”
“Only because it’s been proved they get sick if they don’t have meat. They’re naturally carnivorous, mother — like the jaguar.”
“Raoul! I will not have you calling human beings naturally carnivorous!” And now she was shocked, as he’d known she would be, and he was winning again.
He said quickly, not wanting to hurt, “But it’s not the same thing as eating meat which has been hunted and killed. The tumps feel no pain. The meat’s taken from the parts of their body which can spare it, by skilled flensers. I’ve seen it. They’re really big walking vegetables, mother. They were bred that way, thousands of years ago.”
“They’re unnatural creatures, Raoul. They can’t breed.”
“But they don’t get old and die.”
She was sidetracked onto a subject which had given her much cause for thought during her lifetime; an ethical problem to which she could see no answer. “But they get sick and die occasionally. And they commit suicide. There are only fifty-four tumps left in Rangua, Raoul. The stories say there were hundreds of them at one time. In the future there will be none. What will the felinos do then, if they’re truly carnivorous? What will they eat, Raoul?”
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