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The Stone God Awakens

Page 11

by Farmer, Phillip Jose


  He could not see the sun because of the trunks, branches and vegetation foliage overhead and on both sides, but the strongest part of the light seemed to come from the first quarter of the heavens. He gave the order to launch, and they set out on four rafts. They proceeded without incident for about ten miles, at which point the sun was entering on the last quarter. And then they saw Ghlikh flying parallel with their course. He was about sixty yards to their left and high enough so that he could be seen just above the tops of the trees that filled the space between the riverlet and the side of the branch. He flapped faster when he saw that he had been observed and then disappeared beneath the wall of greenery. A few minutes later they saw him sitting on the branch of a giant redwood-like tree growing out of the larger branch. Some of the warriors wanted to shoot at him, but Ulysses told them not to waste their arrows. He wondered where Ghuakh was, and then it occurred to him that she may have gone on ahead to notify the Khrauszmiddum or Wuggrud. Or perhaps she was going to the city of the Dhulhulikh and meant to bring them down on the invaders.

  The rafts passed the tree on which Ghlikh sat. He watched them until the riverlet took a bend that carried them out of sight. A moment later they saw him flapping along and then he was gone. But he came back and perched on the branch of another redwood. He was close enough this time so that Ulysses could see the hole in the wing where the arrow had gone through.

  Ghlikh remained on the branch until the rafts had gone around another slight curve. The moment he was out of sight, Ulysses leaped from the raft and forced his way through the thick vegetation. He was hoping that he could get to the side before Ghlikh took off from the branch. After all, Ghlikh didn't have to be in a hurry. The party he was watching could not get far away.

  To get to the side swiftly, he had to make far more noise than he wished. If he were a Tarzan, he could have swung from branch to branch on the parasitical trees, and if he had had more time, he might have tried it. But he did not, and so he rammed through the fronds, the pulpy shafts and the hard many-branched bushes, thorns and lianas that grew from plant to plant. He carried his bow and extended this ahead of or above himself. But when he crawled through a bush or a thorn barrier, the arrows sticking out of his quiver caught, and he had to stop to pull them loose.

  Finally, he put the quiver on the ground and took two arrows in his hand. After that he made better time. Twice he scared away the Chihuahua-sized deer and, once, he leaped away from a hissing snake with a triangular head and black, orange and yellow chevrons down its back.

  He got to the edge just as Ghlikh leaped out from his tree, extended his wings and then began flapping. Ghlikh went down and then up, coming even with the side of the branch about twenty feet past where Ulysses crouched behind a bush. Ulysses stood up and aimed ahead of Ghlikh and released the shaft. It went through his right ear and on ahead of him.

  He screamed and fell off to one side. Ulysses pushed out to the very edge of the branch and fitted another arrow to the string. By then Ghlikh had quit screaming and had checked his fall. He was about fifty feet down and ahead, and this time Ulysses aimed a little less ahead of his target.

  The arrow went through Ghlikh's right wing and shoulder. The arrow must have gouged a groove on the top of the right shoulder, because it kept on going. But Ghlikh was hurt, and he dropped, wings trailing into the gloomy abyss. Ulysses tried to follow him all the way but lost him in the duskiness and density of the foliage.

  Unless the bat-man struck something, though, he would probably recover and land safely. Ulysses sighed and returned to the raft. He had at least given him the scare of his life.

  "Stop around the next bend," he said after he had jumped back onto his raft. He told them what had happened, and though they were disappointed that he had not killed Ghlikh, they did enjoy his description of Ghlikh's terror. They scrambled out after him and pulled the rafts into the vegetation, where they cut the binding lianas and stacked the poles under bushes. After that, they crossed to the other side and here began the difficult, but not impossible, climb down the side. When they were as far as they could go vertically, they moved out horizontally. Before dusk, they were inside one of the large cavities that abounded on the sides of the branches. These quite often held animals: apes, monkeys, baboons, or cats ranging from housecat size to leopard size. The owner of this one happened to be out, and when he came back, he turned out to be an ocelot-sized cat with tiger stripes. He did not dispute the den with them.

  "We stay here until our meat and water run out," Ulysses said. "If Ghlikh didn't get killed or badly hurt, he'll be back up here. But he won't find us. Or, if he does, he's likely to get an arrow through his belly."

  Ulysses did not like the idea of hiding, because his "men" needed action. But if he could throw off the bat-people and anybody they had summoned, the inactivity and the tension of lying around cooped up would be worth it.

  The next morning, he was glad that he had hidden. He was awakened by Awina, who reported hearing strange voices, many voices, from somewhere close. He crawled out to a place near the opening and listened. The high thin voices so far away belonged to the Dhulhulikh. They were calling to each other as they flew above the jungle or waddled through the vegetation. Though small, they had trouble making progress in the jungle because their wings caught and the thin membranes tore so easily.

  "We'll stay in here all day," Ulysses said. "But if they're still here tonight, we'll go out and catch us one."

  They got as far back into the hole as they could. It was well they did, because about an hour later a batwing flew by. He was going swiftly, but it was evident that he was scanning the fissures and caves on the side.

  After the Dhulhulikh had gone by, Ulysses went to the side of the entrance and motioned for the Wufea chief to get on the other side. As he had suspected, the batwing decided to come back for a closer look. The little fellow dropped into the opening without warning, shooting in so swiftly that he had to run a little way in before he could stop. It was a foolish move, and the batwing must not have really thought that there would be anybody in there. He was probably just following orders, and so regarded this entry as routine.

  If so, he had the shock of his life. He was grabbed from behind and front before his eyes could get adjusted to the dimness of the cave. A big hand clamped down on his mouth, and the edge of a hard palm chopped his skinny neck.

  Ulysses had the unconscious bat-man bound and his mouth gagged. When he saw the man's eyes open, he told him, in Ayrata, what he had to do if he wanted to live. The bat-man nodded that he would obey, and the gag was removed. But a knife was held at his throat.

  His name was Khyuks, and he was in a special attack force.

  And who had called them here?

  Khyuks did not answer that. Ulysses twisted the fragile foot a little bit while Aufaieu held his hand over the man's mouth. Khyuks still would not talk, so Ulysses punched several holes in a wing. After some more treatment, Khyuks began talking. It was Ghuakh, Ghlikh's wife, who had reported to them.

  If that were so, then the city of the bat-men could not be far from here, Ulysses thought. He was in luck.

  Not so, Khyuks said. The place was only a small settlement, an outpost.

  How many Dhulhulikh were in this attack force?

  About fifty.

  Ulysses had no way of checking on this at the moment.

  How did they plan to fight the invaders?

  As he asked this, he studied the finned and stonepointed wood darts in the belt around Khyuks' waist.

  The Dhulhulikh would drop the darts on the warriors, of course. And Khrauszmiddum would be coming to attack on land.

  At that moment, another batwing landed. He came up and stalled just outside the entrance and landed only a few feet inside. The Alkunquib stationed by the sides of the entrance leaped for him, but the batwing did a backflip through the hole and escaped them. A Wufea, however, sent an arrow through him, and the batwing dropped without a sound. They crouched inside the hole,
waiting for a cry to arise announcing that the arrowed man had been seen. But no cry came.

  "They'll be counting noses sometime later," Ulysses said. "And they'll start looking for the missing soldiers, you can bet on that."

  "What do we do?" Awina said.

  "If they don't start looking until dusk, then we get out of here. We go back into the jungle above. If they find us before dark, then we've got a hell of a fight on our hands."

  He did not add that the batwings could simply starve them out.

  Khyuks would answer some questions. Others he just would not. He was such a frail creature, he could not endure much pain. When the pain got too much for him, he fainted. And when he was revived and tortured again, he fainted once more.

  He would not tell them where the city of the Dhulhulikh was. He did tell them that the city held the spirit of Wurutana. But he would not say what the "spirit" of Wurutana was. He insisted that he did not know. He had never seen Wurutana. Only the chiefs of the Dhulhulikh had. At least, he presumed they had. He had never heard any chief say that he had seen Wurutana. Wurutana's spirit, rather. This Tree was the body of Wurutana.

  Wurutana was the god of the Dhulhulikh. Also of the leopard-men and the bear-men, though the simple Wuggrud had a number of other gods, too.

  Ulysses was curious about the depth of control by Wurutana. He asked if the Khrauszmiddum and Wuggrud ever fought among themselves.

  "Oh, yes," Khyuks said. "Every tribe fights his neighbour. But none fight us; all obey the voice of Wurutana."

  And how many Dhulhulikh were there in all?

  Khyuks did not know. He insisted, even after fainting several times, that he just did not know. He did know that there were many. Very many. And why not? They were the favoured of Wurutana.

  Were there any people like Ulysses on the south coast?

  Khyuks did not know, but he had heard that there were. After all, the coast was many flights away, and only a few of the batwings ranged far and wide.

  Dusk eventually came. Khyuks was unconscious again. The batwings had ceased to fly by. Ulysses thought that they must be searching farther down the riverlet. By the time they discovered that two were missing, they would not know when they had dropped out. And it was next to impossible to search in the dark here.

  As soon as he thought it dark enough, he gave the order to move out. Khyuks was tied to Ulysses' back and gagged. Ulysses had given his word that the batwing would not be killed if he gave information. It was true that Khyuks had not answered all the questions, but he had answered most. And Ulysses admired the little man's courage and endurance. He knew it was dangerous to be sentimental to an enemy, but he did not feel like killing the plucky little fellow. Moreover, he might be able to use him later.

  They returned to where they had hidden the raft logs and the poles. The rafts were put back together, and the party launched itself out on the dark riverlet. The moonlight did not filter down very far. Occasionally, a ray broke through an avenue of branches. Once, a thin ray lit up great dark round objects in the water ahead of them. There was a snort, and a needle of water shot up from some aperture in the creature. Then the water boiled as bodies disappeared. The rafts pushed on through the roiling as the occupants waited, tensely, for the great hipporats to appear beside the rafts or, worse, underneath them. But the rafts proceeded unmolested.

  Several times, Ulysses saw the seemingly endless lines of a legless crocodile slide out from the silvery-black bushes and into the silvery-black water. He waited for the violent upthrust of a short-jawed, many-toothed head onto the raft and the closing of teeth around the leg of someone—or himself. Or the lash of a mighty tail from the darkness and the smash of bone and pulping of flesh and the body flying into the riverlet.

  More miles passed without incident. Birds and unknown animals gave their weird cries. Then the current picked up and they were going so swiftly that the polers had no need to shove against the bottom. Now they were busy pushing against the bank so that the rafts would not bump against them.

  The great branch was leaning downward at a steeper rate, although the inclination was not noticeable in the dark by the raftmen. If it had not been for the pickup in the current's speed, they would have thought they were on a level.

  Ulysses liked but also worried about the speed.

  He crouched down by the bound Khyuks and splashed water from the riverlet onto the little face. The water made the unconscious bat-man open his eyes.

  He croaked, "I am thirsty."

  Ulysses dipped more water with his gourd and lifted Khyuks' head so he could drink. Then he said, "I think the water is rushing toward some fall. Do you know anything about it?"

  "No," Khyuks said sullenly. "I know nothing of any waterfall."

  "That means what?" Ulysses said. "That you are ignorant of this area or that there is no waterfall at the riverlet's end?"

  "I didn't fly over the end of this branch when I came in," Khyuks said.

  Ulysses said, "Well, we'll find out the hard way whether or not there is a cataract. I want to get out of here with all possible speed, and I'll keep us on the rafts until the last possible moment. There might be some difficulty, but not an impossibility, I hope, in getting off the rafts at the last moment."

  He did not elaborate. Khyuks was not so deep in pain that he could not visualise what might happen. It could be every man for himself, and Khyuks, his legs and hands tied, would be dependent on someone else to get him ashore. There might not be enough time for anyone to carry him or throw him ashore, even if anyone felt so inclined.

  After a while, Khyuks spoke again. It was evident that he loathed himself. He wanted to keep his mouth shut and take whatever was coming. But he was unable to face the death at the end of the branch. Perhaps, Ulysses thought, there was something especially horrifying about death in water to him.

  "Judging by the current," he said slowly, "we must be about three miles from the end. Where the first cataract is."

  Ulysses considered the possibility that Khyuks was not frightened. He might be lying so that he could trap them all, send them all to a falling watery death, including himself.

  "We'll go another mile or so," Ulysses said. "Then we'll get off the rafts."

  There was enough light so that he could see Khyuks' face. Now and then, the light strengthened as the moon's rays shot through openings between leaves and branches and trunks thousands of feet above them. The bat-man's face was as unreadable as a piece of leather.

  At that moment, a cry brought Ulysses upright and raised a chill on the back of his neck. He turned around to see what Awina was pointing at. There was a big tree growing out of a dirt-filled crack about fifty yards away. It was only about fifty feet high, but it spread out horizontally to eighty feet or so on either side of the massive trunk. The cry had come from something on one of its branches. A moment later, he saw its origin. A number of dark bodies launched themselves from the dark mushroom shape out into the abyss below the great branch on the rim of which the tree grew. Great leathery wings spread out, and the little bat-men disappeared behind the vegetation. Within a minute, the first of them reappeared again, flapping strongly to carry himself up and over the rafts. And in another minute there were many more.

  There was only one thing for Ulysses to do. If his people stayed on the rafts, they would be open to attack from above. Worse, they would have to quit the rafts later on while under attack and under conditions which would make it difficult to defend themselves.

  He shouted an order, and the polers on the outside of the rafts shoved against the bottom. The rafts moved in toward the banks, and those on the bankward edges leaped out and grabbed the bushes. Meanwhile, Ulysses had begun tossing the heaviest boxes through the air and onto the banks. He hoped that the impact would not trigger the unstable black gunpowder. The boxes of bombs fell onto the bushes without reacting.

  Then he lifted up Khyuks and heaved him with an effort that dipped the raft on his side. The little fellow, squawking, crashed
facedown onto a thick growth. Wulka, a Wagarondit, picked him up.

  By that time, the first of the bat-people was swooping down on the raft, his little hands holding a short spear. He never got above them; an arrow thudded into his chest and he fell with a loud splash. A great legless length launched itself from the bushes on the opposite bank, roaring as it went through the air.

  Ulysses shot once, noted that his arrow had driven into the shoulder of a bat-man, and then turned and leaped onto the bank without waiting to see the man's fall. He held his bow out with his right hand and clutched at a branch with his left. His hand closed around a thorny length, and he exclaimed with the pain. But he did not let loose.

  Something hit the dirt just beside his right foot. A missile cast, or dropped, by one of the flying men. Then he had dived over the bush, pulling himself over, and never mind possible damage to the quiver or the bow. When he was behind the bush, he crawled on through the vegetation until he was covered by a large and heavy bush. He roared at his chiefs and at Awina until they had all answered. In response to more of his orders, they made their way through the tangles until they were close to him. During this time, the bat-men had been swooping over the jungle and dropping or hurling assegais darts, and shooting small arrows. No one was hit, and after a while the bat-men quit their blind bombardment. They were losing too many weapons.

 

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