“They crowded around the door,” Helen continued, “battering away at it. Somebody threw a rock through the window. Glass flew everywhere. I was scared, I can tell you. They were shouting. It wasn’t just food they were after. It was Mister McNeil himself.” She was trembling, remembering it all.
“What do you mean?” asked Walleye. “What did they want with Mister McNeil?”
“He’s human, you see. They were blaming the humans for everything. They were saying the humans were letting people starve to death when they could have saved them.”
“They were right,” said Cuff.
“And they were saying the humans were pulling out, loading up their ships and abandoning everyone.”
Lonessa snorted. “That’s nonsense. The humans have been here for generations. They’ve put a lot of work into Devon Station and the mine and everything. They wouldn’t leave now.”
“Well, I’m telling you what these men were saying. They were from Okam on the edge of the moor, and they could see what was happening. And they saw humans loading equipment into their shuttle. And then it took off.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re leaving,” said Walleye. “The shuttle’s always coming and going with equipment. Anyway, what did Mister McNeil do?”
“He got his laser rifle and told them to back off. He set their cart on fire with it, to show them what he could do. The cart was all wet with the rain, but he burned it up easily.”
Cuff said, “With technology like that, why do they let us starve?”
I said, “It’s their policy. It works all ways.”
Charm added, “Mister McNeil told me the humans are no happier than us, and in the end it’s how happy you are that counts.” She moved close to me, slipping her arm through mine.
“Starving counts, too,” said Lonessa grimly. “And for Phu’s sake stop clinging to him like that, Charm,” she muttered, nudging her daughter none too gently.
It was another of those moments I revisit often: The net loft, gloomy in the everlasting twilight of the drench; the rain falling like a curtain outside the open double doors; the men sitting around the floor, forgotten nets draped across their knees; the warmth of Charm against me; gaunt Helen dominating the room, Lonessa tall and sexual in fine leather that fitted her like a second skin; Walleye leaning against a post for support, very soon to die… .
And a distant rumbling, that I took at first to be thunder. That sound is the focus of the moment, although I didn’t know it at the time. I’ve revisited my emotions often and found no fear, only curiosity over Helen’s story, with the usual background of lust for Charm.
“So then he turned his laser on the bandits?” guessed Cuff hopefully.
“He didn’t need to. He told them he had no intention of leaving our world and he’d help any way he could — like any human would — within the restrictions of human policy. They jeered a bit at this, but I thought they’d calmed down a lot. Mister McNeil thought so too, because he invited them in for a bite to eat. Only Jon was suspicious. But he was right and Mister McNeil was wrong.”
“Who’s Jon?” asked Cuff.
“You call him the Nowhere Man, but I think he deserves a proper name, don’t you? Anyway, once the Okam men were inside the house they turned very nasty. They looked around at Mister McNeil’s Earth things and they began to pick them up and make remarks about them. One of them dropped something — I don’t know what it was — and it broke to pieces.”
Charm gripped my arm more tightly. “What’s that noise?” she whispered. “The floor’s shaking.”
“So Mister McNeil told them to behave themselves or they wouldn’t get anything to eat. He’d put his gun away to show he trusted them. One man said that if they took Mister McNeil prisoner and threatened to kill him, the humans might be forced to help. They kind of… closed in on him. That was when Jon went and got the gun again. Afterwards, Mister McNeil said he’d acted too hastily, but I know he was right.” She swallowed, eyes wide as she suffered an involuntary backflash of the moment. “Jon aimed the gun at one of the men, and suddenly smoke came from the man’s clothes, and… and he fell, and then things on the far side of the room began to crackle and fall apart, and the wall caught fire. Mister McNeil grabbed the gun from Jon and the bandits ran out of the house, all except the one on the floor. And when we looked at him he… he was…” She broke off, got herself under control and said more calmly, “I’ve put it under geas. I don’t know if I’ll ever have a daughter, but if I do, I don’t want her to see what I saw, ever. I’ll never—” She broke off, head cocked, listening.
People were yelling outside. Walleye pushed himself away from his post. “What’s going on out there?”
We hurried into the rain, Charm keeping a grip on my arm. A group of men had gathered at the water’s edge, staring back over our heads, pointing.
Crane was among them. “What is it?” I asked him.
“The trees! Look at them! And can’t you feel it through your feet?”
I could feel it; the ground was trembling. The trees rose up the steep hillside behind the net loft; misty with rain, swaying and grasping hopefully the way anemones do. But there was something different there; something that made my heart jolt with an almost superstitious fear.
A small group of trees were shaking violently and seemed to be bouncing up and down, as though a giant hand was trying to uproot them. Spouts of partly-digested matter flew out of their maws. My feet were suddenly cold. The waters of the estuary had become choppy, sending waves ashore. There was a quick scrambling away from the water’s edge.
Walleye lay at the entrance to the net loft. The ground was heaving, the building was swaying, and the crippled manchief was unable to get to his feet. “What’s happening?” he shouted weakly. He couldn’t see the hillside from where he lay.
A nearby fisherman was praying. “May the Great Lox deliver us from the memory of this moment and may our sons be—”
His voice was lost in a roar from the hillside and yells of terror from the onlookers.
The group of trees suddenly spun around. When I recall the moment, that’s the way I still see it. They spun, all together as though mounted on a great wheel. Then they flew off in all directions. The roar became deafening and still we watched, too shocked to run.
Then the ground split apart and a monstrous creature crawled from the depths of the hillside.
It was bigger than ten cottages put together. It was almost as tall as the hillside itself. Its nose was blunt, ringed with terrible flashing blades from which whole trees flew. It crawled out of the sloping ground and, released, accelerated toward us. Someone bumped into me, yelling. People were running in all directions, trying to get out of the path of the monster. Trees crashed among us. I saw a man felled and pinned down by an anemone, screaming as he watched the monster advance toward him. Some waded into the cold water and began to swim with frantic splashing, their fear of the apparition overcoming their fear of the icy water. A few stood where they were, praying for deliverance and making the two-fingered sign of the Great Lox.
I found Charm tugging at my arm. “Come on, Hardy!”
We ran hand-in-hand along the water’s edge in the direction of the old wharf and our cottage, and when I judged we’d gone far enough we stopped and turned to look.
The monster was plowing a swathe down the hillside, spraying chopped pieces of trees. When I recall that day, I find a moment when my fear turned to curiosity. It was the moment when I realized the creature was mindless, pursuing its own path with no specific prey in mind. It wasn’t after me; it wasn’t after anyone. It just was; a huge moving thing destroying everything in its path. Not because it was evil, but because that was what it naturally did. It had nothing against people.
It reached the rear of the net loft. The building was no barrier to its progress which continued unchecked while splintered timbers flew. The noise was almost too much to bear; Charm held her hands over her ears. Now w
e could see the flank of the creature. It rose taller than the trees, almost featureless, cylindrical and brown with dirt with scratches revealing silvery metal below.
“Charm!” I shouted above the din. “It’s Starnose! The mining machine from Devon Station!”
She stared at me, wide-eyed. “What’s it doing here?”
“The tunnels go a long way. There must be one under us somewhere. And Starnose has gotten out of control!”
The net loft had disappeared in a storm of pulverized timber and Starnose was heading for the waters of the inlet. A small group of people in prayer eventually realized the Great Lox was of little help against this brute, and broke and ran. Starnose crossed the short stretch of beach and reached the water. Cuff, showing unexpected courage, pranced alongside the machine towering over him, yelling defiance.
Then the blades touched the water and he disappeared in a fog of fine spray. Starnose lumbered on. Now I could see the back end of the machine, just as I’d remembered it from our visit to Devon Station; the dials, the switches, the control levers. It looked naked, out of place here in daylight in old Noss, with no humans on the platforms to control it. Unmanned, Starnose plunged on into the waters of the estuary, shrouded in a dense cloud of spray.
And beside the wide trench dug by the machine’s passage, Cuff knelt by the broken figure of his father.
I’d forgotten Walleye. We all had, except Cuff. In the immediate terror of the apparition bursting from the hillside, we’d done nothing to help the manchief as he lay at the entrance to the net loft, unable to rise. I found myself hurrying forward, then Charm pulled me back.
“Better to leave them alone,” she said.
The roar of Starnose was fading now as the waters rose around its flanks. People were creeping back, gathering on the bank, watching the monster go. It sank from view, a boiling of cold thin water the only evidence of its passing. Soon it was gone and all was quiet, and for a moment we stood without speaking, hardly able to believe the past few moments had happened. But a deep wound gouged the land from the hillside to the water’s edge, and the net loft was no more, and out there the inlet waters swirled.
“What’s going to happen?” asked Charm at last.
“I suppose it’ll just die, drown or whatever things like that do. I’m sure it’s not meant to work underwater.”
“No, I mean what will the humans do without it?”
It was a good question, and it raised plenty of other questions. Helen had said the bandits were accusing the humans of pulling out. The mine was the humans’ reason for being here. Now mining would cease until Starnose was recovered. Would the humans bother to recover it? They’d failed in their attempt to wipe out the lorin. Had they decided our world was simply too much trouble for them?
I, for one, would be sorry to see them go. They’d been here for a very long time. In general, the two races had gotten along well.
People were turning from the water now, becoming aware of the tragedy the monster had left in its wake. Cuff had an arm under Walleye’s shoulder, cradling him. I thought I saw Walleye’s lips moving. Charm and I had drawn closer. Others were arriving from the men’s and women’s villages. A wide circle gathered around Cuff and Walleye, keeping its distance, respect balancing curiosity.
Walleye had been mumbling, the words inaudible to us, and Cuff was nodding.
Then Walleye’s head dropped back and his hand, which had been on Cuff’s shoulder, fell limply to the ground.
Cuff laid him down, then looked up, his gaze traveling slowly over the faces of the crowd. There was a dreadful sorrow in his eyes.
But then his eyes met mine.
His expression changed.
He looked at me with cold speculation, as though Walleye had conferred some unknown power over me with his dying words.
THE DRENCH
“We must discover the true facts and we must present a united front to show we mean business. I propose an immediate deputation to Devon Station. We will demand to know what is going on.”
Stance stood on the Yam motorcart, addressing a Noss crowd still stunned by the events of the morning. Trigger stood beside him and Cuff and Lonessa had climbed onto the footplate too, unwilling to concede leadership of the crowd to my uncle.
“Noss chiefs will decide what Noss people do,” shouted Lonessa angrily.
Stance had arrived soon after Starnose had done its worst; the motorcart towing a trailer carrying his hunting team, eleven men in all. Charm and I had been discussing the events with her father when we heard the familiar chaff-chaff of the machine, then Stance and his team had rolled into view. He’d swerved and braked, narrowly avoiding running into the crowd, and come to an undignified halt at the water’s edge, listing dangerously. Undeterred, he’d started haranguing Lonessa on the hot topic of the rumored human exodus.
“Of course it’s your decision,” he told Lonessa. “I’m just presenting you with the facts.”
“You’ve chosen a bad moment. You’ve heard what happened here this morning. Come back tomorrow.”
The motorcart’s safety-valve suddenly blew with a hissing roar, blasting a column of steam far into the drizzling sky, startling us.
“Tomorrow may be too late!” yelled Stance above the din.
It occurred to me that Stance was right, for once. I pushed my way through the crowd and climbed onto the footplate, to be met with outraged looks from the occupants.
“The thing that killed Walleye and destroyed the net loft,” I told Stance, “was Starnose, the human mining machine. Now it’s lying at the bottom of the creek. I don’t see how they can retrieve it. Without it they can’t mine. And without mining, there’s no reason for them to stay.”
Stance eyed me suspiciously, suspecting a trap. “You’re sure?”
“Would I lie, Stance?”
I wished I hadn’t said that. His eyes narrowed. He took it as an oblique reference to his disability, confirming his suspicion that I knew all about it.
“I’m with you, Stance,” said Cuff unexpectedly. “Those bastards killed my dad and I’m going to face them with it. If they think they can get away with this they must think again!”
The safety valve reseated itself half-way through this, and the sudden silence lent his final words a ringing emphasis. The crowd responded with a roar of approval. Cuff, their new manchief, flushed with pleasure, inflating his chest. “By Phu!” he yelled, “We’ll show those freezing humans we’re a force to be reckoned with!”
It struck me that a lot of foolishness was about to be talked. I didn’t want to be associated with it in later memory, so I left the leaders and rejoined Charm in the crowd.
“Let’s get our motorcart fired up,” she said. “We don’t want to miss the fun.”
“We’re not going to get far today,” I pointed out.
“Your uncle Stance will be leaving soon. I expect he’ll stay the night at Mister McNeil’s, and tackle him while he’s there. Lonessa and Cuff won’t want to miss that. I wouldn’t put it past Stance to strike some kind of a deal with the humans and leave Noss out of it.”
It was late afternoon when two heavily-laden motorcarts finally wheezed out of Noss. Stance led, having assured us that the hunting team would be replaced by Wand and others at Yam before proceeding to Devon Station. The sight of the spears had made people nervous, and during discussions the new spears of Noss had appeared too, carried by the reformed bandits and their trainees. There had been some jostling and I think Stance had gotten the point. If he’d been hoping to intimidate us with his escort he was disappointed.
Darkness was falling, Rax was rising somewhere above the leaden clouds and I, for one, was beginning to get nervous when the lights of Mister McNeil’s residence showed ahead. Charm and I, together with Crane and six other Noss people, rode in a loxcart roped to the back of the motorcart. It was an uncomfortable ride, but we didn’t want to be left out of things.
We saw the lead motorcart
turn into Mister McNeil’s driveway.
“That’s a relief,” said Crane. “I was beginning to think Stance intended to keep going all night. It’s fine for people on the footplate, but it’s freezing cold back here!”
Clutching furs and rugs around us, we climbed stiffly from the cart and hurried into the house. It was wonderfully warm in there and our spirits rose. People began to chatter brightly. Stance’s warriors were already there, milling around and examining the Earth artifacts. The Nowhere Man, Jon, greeted us.
“Mister McNeil’s not here,” he said.
“That hardly surprises us,” said Lonessa acidly, “considering he’s probably blasting off in the shuttle at this very moment.”
“I doubt it,” said the Jon.
I hoped not, but the absence of Mister McNeil had cost me a lot of faith. Now, of all times, he should have been here to explain what was going on and put our minds at rest. He must have heard the rumors himself. There would have been all kinds of communication between him and Devon Station.
“Well, anyway,” snapped Lonessa, “we’re staying the night.”
“I can’t stop you. Just don’t wreck the place, huh?”
“It’s unlikely your human friend will be needing it again.”
We heard a crash as one of the warriors accidentally knocked a large circular artifact off its mount. Helen appeared for the first time and replaced it. Charm heard my grunt of surprise and looked at me questioningly.
“She looks different,” I explained. I’d hardly recognized the gaunt and surly creature whom I’d brought to Noss. Now she’d fleshed out and was almost, to stretch a point, pretty. “Younger, somehow.”
“Love does that to a person.” She hugged me impulsively.
I looked at her, young and lovely and loving, and I thanked Phu for our perfect memories. To me she will always look like she did at that moment. It must be a terrible thing for you humans, to watch your loved ones grow old and to see them as ugly, and to have to use lifeless holograms to remind yourselves of what you once loved.
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