Cat Karina

by Coney, Michael

  Something in his mind was saying: Bantus — tonight is the night for Torpad.

  Karina had to physically restrain the Pegman from attempting to jump the ravine. There was a brief struggle until finally she pinned him to the ground, during which time the handmaiden disappeared.

  “She’s gone, she’s gone. Oh, Corriente!”

  “Is that the Corriente you’ve been talking about all these years?”

  “That’s her.”

  “But she’s cursed by Agni, Enri,” said Karina gently.

  “Does that matter? I only have one arm, now.”

  How can I kill that woman now? Karina wondered. “I think we’ll find her easily enough tomorrow.”

  The Pegman gave a faint smile. “After all these years.…” he murmured. “And now, Karina, if you’ll kindly get your pretty body off my old one, we can decide what to do next.”

  “Oh.… Of course.” She stood, watching him warily. “Maybe we should go back to the signal cabin. Tonio may be there by now.” But the urgency was gone. It was late afternoon and warm here on the ridge. She sat beside the Pegman. “Who is this Corriente, anyway? Where did you meet her?”

  “Long ago, before you were born, I met Corriente at the Tortuga Festival in Portina, to the south. I was playing a few tunes for the felinos, singing a song or two; while they were laughing at the idea of a True Human entertaining them. A few of them had been drinking and some things were said which were not really meant. I was thinking of moving on. Then Corriente came and sat beside me, and everyone was silent.

  “Because she was beautiful, you see — more beautiful than any woman there, even the felinas. She sang with me, and afterwards we enjoyed the Festival together, the feasting and the dancing and the fun. Later, in the moonlight, we made love. In the morning she cried, and I thought it was because … well, True Human women sometimes do cry when it’s over. So I asked her to be my wife; and she said she couldn’t, because she had to marry somebody else.

  Karina said, “True Humans make things complicated.”

  “Maybe, but there are sometimes compensations — although not in my case. It turned out that Corriente was the daughter of the Canton Lord, so I was wasting my time. She went away the next day. There was just one moment when I might have had her. I sat on a mule beside Portina station and watched her and the Lord get aboard the sailcar and I almost.… She walked past me so close and her eyes met mine, and I almost reached down and caught hold of her.…

  “And I almost rode off with her into the hills, and we almost built a little cabin up there, and raised crops and a family, and we almost lived happily ever after.” He smiled. “It was so close. All I needed to have done, was to reach out and catch hold of her.

  “I’ve been trying to undo that moment ever since. You’ve heard of happentracks? Well, I know on many happentracks I rode off with Corriente. I could almost feel them there, right next to my life. I’ve been trying to jump across to one of those happentracks ever since.

  “Maybe this time I’ve done it.”

  The sun had gone down behind the trees. Karina said, “So you became the Pegman. What happened to Corriente?”

  “She died — or so everyone thought. There was an accident to her car on the way to the wedding. They say a branch fell off a tree and jammed the sails. The car was struck by Agni and it left the track and fell into the river. They never found her body. It happened at Pele North Stage.”

  And he looked at her, nodding slightly, as if to say, Yes, yes.…

  She stared in growing amazement. “What was the name of the car?”

  “Cavaquinho.”

  “Oh.…” She was looking at him as though she saw him for the first time. “And so … Corriente must be.…”

  “Princess Swift Current. Same words, but an old tongue.”

  “You, Enri? You? That story — it’s almost a legend. One of the great sailway songs. You’re the humble minstrel from Jai’a!”

  “That’s me,” He grinned in embarrassment.

  “Mordecai!” Things began to fit together; old stories, odd remarks from Enri, carrera songs.…

  “And now.… Here she is, in this valley. Those times I’ve heard you talk about the handmaiden, I never thought.…”

  Uncertainly, Karina stood. Suddenly her vendetta was beginning to look small against the sweep of Time and events. All the same, it was getting dark, and the familiar restlessness stirred in her veins; the blood of carnivores from long ago.

  “Well.… Let’s go and get that bastard Tonio anyway,” she said.

  Astrud saw Tonio in the moonlight, face-down in the stream, and she thought he was dead. With a small scream of desolation she stepped into the water and knelt beside him. He lay very still, the water flowing past his hair and down his pale, naked body. His heels broke the surface, his arms lay along his sides.

  Then she saw his fingers were fluttering.

  She thought it was the flow of the water. She seized his left hand and held it to her. The fingers twitched swiftly.

  Then the body squirmed.

  She took hold of him. He was cold. He struggled, squirming sideways, feet kicking. She tried to drag him onto the bank but he was too heavy. He didn’t try to push her away, yet she sensed he was resisting her.

  “Tonio!” she cried, dragging at him, sobbing. She thought he was trying to drown himself. The guilt had been too much for him. All those felino people dead. And she hadn’t exactly helped.

  His mouth opened and she thought he was going to speak, but it closed again. Water dripped from his lips.

  His mouth opened again, and closed.

  He gaped, and gaped, just like a big fish.

  She couldn’t hold him up much longer.

  She felt the ground move under her, and the moonlight was blotted out. She looked up.

  She screamed.

  She backed away, staring, screaming her lungs out, not standing, just crawling slowly backwards while her gaze remained transfixed by the glowing eyes of the most terrible creature she’d ever seen.

  The Pegman and Karina watched from the undergrowth.

  “Oh, my God.…” Enri was mumbling. “Oh, my God.…” Quietly, as though the sound of his own voice was a comfort he couldn’t do without, even though it might reach the ears of the monster.

  Karina was silent while the Little Friends raged through her body, urging her to run.

  .… It was the way the creature had scooped Tonio out of the water with one paw, as though he was a medium-sized fish. And the next part had been quite simple, too. Tonio hadn’t screamed. He’d made no sound at all, just opening and shutting his mouth. He’d squirmed quietly until the creature had cuffed him and broken his neck. Then he was gone, eaten. There was very little blood. The monster wheeled around, and left.

  Astrud lay panting and trembling like a terrified deer. “So sorry, Tonio,” she whispered. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.…”

  Karina’s breath rattled in her throat, like a snarl. She’d dropped to a crouch and her eyes were wide and luminous. The Little Friends were quieter now, but the human part of her was scared sick. At last the dull footsteps of the monster died away and she crept forward and laid a hand on Astrud’s shoulder. The woman started, stared at her and whimpered. Her eyes were empty of all intelligence.

  The Pegman was talking. “There are worse things on Earth than True Humans, Karina.”

  She glanced at him, took a deep breath, and stood.

  “Help me with Astrud,” she said. “We’re going to find that damned Dedo!”

  Death of the Dedo.

  A bar of light showed under the cottage door and Karina hesitated. They had found the place quite easily, but now.… Only fungus and slimy things — and of course the Wrath of Agni — glowed at night. It was unnatural, that light. She shivered, swallowed heavily, and threw open the door.

  Two women were there.

  The handmaiden — Corriente — stood on the far side of the room, the ravines of her face like dancing shad
ows. The whole room glowed, not only because of the Wrath of Agni which was consuming a pile of sticks in a rock alcove.

  Sitting before this alcove, showing no fear, was the Dedo. She was a lot younger than Karina had expected, and much more beautiful. Her eyes glowed with the firelight and a little more of Karina’s resolve ebbed away.

  “So you’re the Dedo,” she said, and the Little Friends helped keep her voice steady. “You’re not so much. Your neck’s kind of skinny and I’ll bet your belly’s soft.”

  “Yes, I am in human form,” said Leitha.

  Karina strode across the room and stood above her, braving the heat and menace of the fire. “Is everything going according to your plan?” she asked. “Are we all dancing along your precious happentrack like puppets? Can you tell us who else is going to die along the way?” Her fingers were hooked and ready.

  “It’s becoming unimportant, now. The nearby Ifalong is decided. Certain humans have served their purpose, and there is still a slight imbalance in the valley. Those are considerations.” The Dedo treated the question on its merits.

  “By Agni!” Karina’s temper snapped. “I’m going to kill you!”

  “No,” said the Dedo. “Raoul will kill me.”

  The certainty in the beautiful woman’s tone stopped Karina as her fingers were reaching for the slender throat. “You know that? Then why don’t you save yourself?”

  “Because my life is of little importance when considered against the Purpose, the Duty, and the sweep of the Ifalong.”

  Unexpectedly, Astrud spoke. “You took Tonio away from me!” Her gaze darted around the cottage as though seeking her husband in some dark niche. “He’s here somewhere, I know it!”

  Karina shivered. The Pegman backed away. Astrud was completely mad; they could almost see the emptiness of her mind.

  “Where are you, Tonio?” cooed Astrud in tones of terrifying sweetness. Then her gaze returned to the Dedo. “You’ve hidden him. He’s your lover, isn’t he?” Now she blinked, and for an instant there was a glimmer of intelligence like a cunning dog. “And Raoul’s your child! You’re the girl he met in the forest, all those years ago! You’re a witch, a bruja!” Then, as though the effort had been too great, she turned away with a little whimper and began to stroke the fur of a strange animal which hung on the wall.…

  “Raoul is not my son,” said the Dedo. “He has a far greater significance.”

  The light in the cottage had no source. The fire glowed at one end and the Rock at the other; but there was something else, a suffused glow which seemed to be in the air. As though Agni himself is riding the next happentrack, thought the Pegman.

  “Where did the handmaiden come from?” he asked with studied casualness.

  “That matters nothing to the flow of events,” said the Dedo. “Her work is finished now, anyway.”

  “It matters to me.”

  The Dedo’s glance rested on him for a moment. “The handmaiden? She came to me many years ago, sick and badly burned, talking of a sailcar accident. She was of no significance and I might have healed her and sent her on her way, or simply eliminated her, but then my study of the Ifalong revealed she could be useful in guiding events. So I used her. I didn’t heal her, of course. Her burns were useful in keeping the superstitious coastal humans from approaching her.”

  Enri walked up to the handmaiden and took her hand. “Do you remember me, Corriente?”

  But the woman stood silent, her eyes vacant, her hand cold and unresponsive.

  “What have you been doing around here?” Karina asked the Dedo. “Have you driven her mad, too? Do you sacrifice everything to this stupid Purpose? Doesn’t it occur to you that ordinary humans have their own Purposes which are just as important to them? Let me tell you why Starquin’s Purpose seems more important to you than a human’s Purpose. It’s because Starquin is bigger and stronger, that’s why. That’s the only reason! That’s the trouble with every god humans ever dreamed up! They’re always made out to be important, but the real truth is they’re bigger and stronger, and they can stomp on you! They’re rotten big bullies!”

  “That is the essence of a certain Cosmic Truth,” said the Dedo.

  “Well,” shouted Karina, shaking her fists at the ceiling, “Piss on you, Starquin!”

  “If you’re hoping he will strike you with a thunderbolt, thereby proving his existence and a certain vulnerability, you are going to be disappointed,” said the Dedo. Reaching into a niche, she took out a curious instrument and pointed it at an earthenware pot. Thoughtfully, almost experimentally as though she was not used to doing this, she thumbed the button.

  The pot jumped and shattered, the fragments glowed, then ran together in a small puddle of intense heat.

  “It is time to reduce the possibility of error,” Leitha said.

  Then she pointed the weapon at Astrud.

  That scene, the frozen tableau of players, entered legend, was etched in the circuits of the Rainbow, and finally emerged in the Song of Earth as the famous couplet:

  “The one-armed man, the mother and the cat-girl watched with dread,

  As the devil-woman numbered them among the living dead.”

  Probably the three humans, at that moment, could not quite believe what was going to happen. All three had recently witnessed violent death; but that had been perpetrated by a mere animal. Now they were watching a creature in human guise, a creature who they suspected was living on a plane above them, a greatly superior being one step short of a god.

  And yet this goddess of beauty pressed the button on her little machine.

  Astrud glowed briefly, and fell.

  “She was mad,” said the Dedo. “It’s difficult to predict what mad people might do. However, normal humans react very much according to a pattern.”

  She watched the door.

  It burst open and Raoul entered, wild-eyed and breathless.

  “What’s going on here?” he shouted. “Where’s my father?” Then he saw the body on the floor. “Mother!” He knelt beside her, laid a hand on her cheek, snatched it away and looked up at them. “Who did this?”

  Karina said, “This woman did it with that thing she’s holding. She killed your father, too.”

  There was a stricken look on Raoul’s face which changed as they watched. He rose slowly to his feet, gaze fixed on the Dedo.

  “Well,” said the Dedo softly, “now I think you’ve served your purpose too, Karina.” And she pointed her weapon at the cat-girl.

  “No! Not Karina!”

  With a howl of rage, Raoul flung himself at the Dedo.

  As she had known he would.…

  She fell against the wall, brought up the weapon and pressed the button. Half a meter from Raoul’s head the wall glowed and dribbled lava. As he jerked away, she aimed at Karina again. This time Raoul threw a bottle which struck the Dedo on the shoulder, and Karina jumped aside as the floor began to glow. The Dedo recovered, but Raoul had sprung forward again, grasping her wrist. The weapon discharged a bolt of light into the ceiling, and timbers cracked and fell, smoking. Raoul, snarling like an animal, jerked at her arm and felt the bone snap as a ribbon of light slashed across the wall.

  The Dedo screamed. The weapon dropped to the floor.

  Raoul released his grip. The Dedo fell and began to scrabble for the gun. Even though she knew the outcome of this struggle, the instinct of self-preservation remained. Raoul stepped on the gun. As the Dedo tried to pry it from under his foot, he placed his toe squarely on the button.

  The Dedo bucked once and lay still, smoking.

  For a moment Raoul stood watching her, then his eyes met Karina’s and he looked away, embarrassed.

  “You did that for me?” said Karina wonderingly. “You could have been killed yourself, Raoul. You don’t understand just how powerful the Dedo was.”

  The Pegman uttered a shaky laugh. “So much for the Ifalong,” he said.

  Karina was still watching Raoul incredulously. “But I’m a felina, Ra
oul.”

  “So?” he muttered. “Maybe I just lost my temper. Wouldn’t you, if your mother had just been killed?”

  He regarded the scene in the cottage; the two bodies on the floor, the Pegman standing white-faced, Karina watching him with a look he couldn’t understand, and the handmaiden still standing in the corner, unmoved by events.

  He mumbled something, swung around and left.

  They’d run out of things to say about Time and happentracks and other strangenesses, and the dead women lay on the other side of the wall. The forest was very still, and stars were fading with the first light of a new day.

  “What are you going to do, Enri?” Karina asked.

  “Oh.… I thought I’d stay in Palhoa for a while. Corriente has to be looked after.… When she’s feeling better, I’ll take her down to Rangua.”

  Karina looked from him to the motionless handmaiden and her face was suddenly sad. “Princess Swift Current.…” she murmured, and she remembered how she’d first met this tall, silent woman, out on the sailway track beyond Rangua, when her leg was broken. It is important that you live, the handmaiden had said, and she’d healed her, and saved her life.…

  She’d done it with a smooth stone.

  Karina said, “Enri, I want to try something.”

  She drew aside the handmaiden’s robe and there, in an inside pocket, was the stone.

  Karina took it and, concentrating, thought: Little Friends, help me if you can. I don’t understand the use of this stone.

  Her fingertips tingled.

  Gently, she rubbed the stone over Corriente’s face. A light came into Corriente’s eyes. She twisted away and mumbled, “She told me never to do that to myself.”

  Karina said, “She’s dead, Corriente.” She continued to stroke the burned face.

  The Pegman sighed.

  The marks of Agni were disappearing, smoothed by the healing action. The puckered scars melted away, the twisted eyelids were mended, the eyes became almond-shaped and beautiful, the brows and the hairline grew back.

  The lips smiled.