Fish Tails

by Sheri S. Tepper

  Grandma said, “We can summon help from the observation post. The Oracles could probably supply us with what would be needed . . .”

  The group cast glances at one another, doubtfully. Arakny said firmly, “NO. Before we make plans to do any cleanup, and definitely before we attempt to involve the Oracles, let’s see what the Edgers do. That truck said ‘Trial Nine.’ I think we can assume they’ve had at least eight failures before, so they may have devised a way to clean up that will be quicker and safer than anything we can do. Let’s get inside and watch. It’s this way!” Arakny moved into a grove of stunted trees, saying loudly, “Arakny-­oops-­Needly.”

  The door opened and they all went through it . . . hurriedly. There was a sudden demand upon the bathrooms.

  Grandma, just inside the stable entry, turned to Coyote and Bear, putting one hand on Coyote’s head, the other on Bear’s shoulder. “This place is something the Oracles loaned to us,” she said. “We can’t be seen, felt, or detected from outside. Don’t ask me how it works, I don’t know. Kitchen is over there,” pointing. “Let me know if you’re hungry or thirsty. Beds and bathroom up those stairs. You can stay here, with the horses, or inside.” She stopped, noticing some nervousness on the part of the two horses who had stayed in the stable. “Better go either upstairs or outdoors, but don’t go anywhere near where that mess happened. This is an observation room, observation windows along that wall, the code we set for the shore area is S A.”

  “Whats a Es Ai?” Bear asked Coyote.

  “Writin’,” said Coyote. “I can’t do it.”

  “I’ll show you,” said Needly, who was already glued to one of the screens, moving it back and forth, finding nothing alive but the crawling bits of flesh. “It just shows you a little piece of the place at a time, but it’s a lot safer than being out there.”

  Abasio came to stand next to her. “What would happen if we put some of that stuff in a bottle?” she asked. “Suppose we fed it, kept it alive, then used it against a giant. Just throw it at him.”

  Xulai shuddered. “That stuff came off a stinker. And you know what the stinkers ate. They eat humans. And giants eat humans. And that’s what the stuff they were making the fish out of eats also. It eats humans or things that eat humans.”

  Needly slowly shook her head. “Xulai, it lives only when the activator stuff is sprayed on it. They sprayed the white stuff all over the small fish with the brain in it, and no one was even wearing special clothes. It wasn’t until the activator was added that everyone was scared.”

  Xulai nodded, rubbing her forehead. “Yes, of course you’re right, Needly. I knew the white stuff was harmless. Precious Wind took samples of it from the stinker that Bear killed. She and I both touched it with our bare hands . . .”

  “We did,” agreed Precious Wind. “It smelled terrible, but it was harmless. Flies lit on it and flew away again. However, the trial they conducted out there this morning verifies why they are experimenting with it. It does attempt to take a shape. I told you about making a solution of the stuff and watching it try to coalesce. The problem, of course, is that we don’t know what shape it was trying for, and evidently the Edgers don’t know either! If I had to guess, I’d say ‘embryonic stinker.’ ”

  Abasio said, “I wish we knew exactly what they’re trying to do. If it tries to take a shape in the flask, then it does have at least one shape it can take. All those wires and nets were their attempt to force it into other shapes, force it to make tissues that do other things, and it won’t go!”

  Arakny had found her own window and focused it on the shore. “Abasio, part of what they’re doing is trying to fix the shape and make it permanent. That’s what the activator stuff was meant to do. However, Edger expertise was almost entirely electronic and mechanical, not genetic. Oh, I know, they produced giants and various living characters for the archetypal villages, but they didn’t design anything new. A giant is just a human being with increased bone structure and the genes that govern growth turned off. IF they made the Griffins, they used known sequences. Eagle and bat wings combined, lion body, feathered, and eagle beak. They’d have made little ones first. Then, when they had the pattern, they’d make the bigger ones. If they did it at all. Somehow, I think the Griffins are too beautiful to have been made by Edgers.”

  Needly remarked, “Add in the fact that Griffins talk. I think that would puzzle Edgers.”

  Precious Wind smiled. “Needly, Coyote has a voice, and Bear, and Blue and Rags. The speech center can be copied. It takes different genetic signals to build in different creatures, but the device built is pretty much the same in each case. But it works only if the creature’s brain is . . . speech discerning. It isn’t accidental that the creatures first domesticated by man are those who discern meaning in speech. I don’t mean they understand the words, but they know different sounds have different meanings.

  “The thing about all this that baffles me is why would Edgers think the shaping can be guided by a brain? Growth and development aren’t brain-­directed! They’re purely genetic. Cell A next to Cell B always makes Cell C. When enough Cell C’s get into a bunch, that signals the next one will be Cell D . . .” She shook her head furiously. “We have learned one thing, Abasio. We do know what they’re trying for. They are trying to grow an aquatic body for a human brain.”

  Arakny added, “And don’t ignore the fact that the thing did move, the fins did move, it tried to get into the water. That brain was thinking before it died: thinking and talking and hurting.”

  “You think they’ve succeeded?” Xulai was appalled.

  Arakny frowned at her feet, thinking. “No, but I know what Precious Wind is thinking. They wouldn’t have expended all that time and effort unless they had had positive results in earlier experiments. Probably with something smaller. What we saw out there involved an enormous expenditure of time and effort, and treasure—­that is, whatever they use to buy things with. Without some positive results, would they go so far as to acquire a human brain?”

  Abasio put his hand on her shoulder. “The Edgers wouldn’t consider it was going far to grab a human brain. Believe me, if they wanted one, they’d grab one at any distance, with no compunction whatsoever!”

  “You ­people,” yelped Coyote, who had his eyes fixed on the window showing the shore. “If you want to see who came to clean up, they’re down there.”

  They turned. Indeed, they were down there, trucks carrying humans, dressed in all-­over protective gear, working in pairs, one of each pair carrying a device that spat flame, the other helping him locate moving bits.

  “They’ve done this more than a few times before,” Abasio remarked, heaving a deep breath. He remained at the window, watching the men work. One ­couple was in trouble. Moving bits were climbing their clothing. Someone else picked up a torn shred of metal and scraped them off.”

  “I think you’re wrong, Abasio,” said Precious Wind. “They haven’t done this before. If they’d had anything like this happen before, all of those workers wouldn’t have been sitting around down there without protective clothing, just watching. This trial was based on some previous success . . . Look down there now!” She pointed to one side of the screen.

  There were several men who seemed to be onlookers: no hazard clothing, no moving about. Abasio fiddled with his window, bringing the picture closer. “Oh, for the . . . !” he exploded. “Well, this removes all doubt!”

  Xulai said, “What is it, Abasio? Someone you know?”

  “I didn’t really know the bastard, but I definitely recognize him. The man on top of the blue truck, the gray-­haired fat one to the right, that’s old Chief Purple.” He turned to the group, raising his voice. “When I was a boy, I ran off to the city and joined a gang, the Purples. Gang chiefs accumulated treasure by digging into the buried city for things the Edgers wanted. Story was, old Chief Purple found something one of the Edges wanted a lot. He got
hold of enough of whatever it was to buy himself into one of the Edges just outside Fantis. He spent most of his time there. He left his son behind to take over as chief of the Purples. Poor little rodent couldn’t have been chief of an empty mousehole. He had never matured. Old Chief Purple couldn’t accept that he was sexually and mentally just a little boy. He bought Sybbis as a wife for the kid. That’s the same Sybbis who is now the leader of the Catland ­people and owner, supposedly, of a ­couple of dozen huge stinkers. I’ll bet at any odds she’s keeping them for papa-­in-­law, old Chief Purple. His private supply! To provide the substance for his own whale when the time comes!”

  Arakny bared her teeth. “All of this establishes the definite link between the Edges and the stinkers. And they still seem to be creating giants, though the ones that were here today didn’t seem inclined to eat babies.”

  Abasio shook his head at her, saying, “Arakny, please keep in mind that if these giants are the same as most of them now—­a different sort from the ones who took part in the Place of Power war—­then they’ll eat ­people unless they’re prevented from doing so. These were probably created to be workmen, so they were made with a block against eating humans.”

  “Ah,” she said. “Well, if the four they had here were the only ones, they’re gone now. Enough. We have the link. Are we agreed that we need some of that stuff they called the activator? We should probably get a sample to Tingawa, if we can. The Edges have the better part of two centuries yet before they drown. They can do a lot of damage in that time. How many men died down there? Including the observers? Thirty, fifty? They weren’t all Edgers, by any means.”

  Abasio pointed to the screen. “They’re leaving. They’re headed back the way they came. I guess they just came to see the extent of the disaster.”

  The others turned to the screen, watching the truck turn around and move away, no one looking back.

  Xulai turned toward Coyote. “Coyote, could you follow the ones who’re cleaning up? When they finish down there by the water, they’ll go back to wherever they’re camped or based. They were here not long after sunrise this morning, and the cleanup crew showed up very promptly after the explosion, so it can’t be far from here. Some of us will wait here for you to come back.” She looked up at Arakny. “You want to know where they are, don’t you?”

  “We do,” she said.

  Coyote drew himself up, as high as his legs could push him, and said to Grandma. “I think that would be worth . . . several chickens, don’t you?”

  “Oh, I should think so,” she said. “Perhaps as many as ten, delivered at intervals.”

  “Roasted!” said Coyote, saliva dripping from his tongue.

  “Oh, very definitely roasted.”

  “That truck is leaving,” said Needly. “If you’re going to follow it . . .”

  Coyote was out the door, circling east and then south up the hill behind the ridges they had lain on earlier. Wherever the truck went, it would come out south of that hill. He yapped as he went, and several of the group saw Bear come out of the trees and amble after him, not hurrying.

  “If the Oracles ever look at what their food-­supply machines are doling out, they are going to be wondering what I’m doing with all those roasted chickens and combs of honey,” Grandma murmured to herself, watching the two creatures scuttle over the hill and disappear in the south. “Such good, helpful creatures.” She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the metal tag Coyote had given her, murmuring to herself, “This might be enough by itself. Depending on records, of course. Old records . . .” She thought for a moment. “I will not ask the Oracles.”

  “What’s Tingawa doing for bears?” Abasio murmured to Precious Wind.

  “Cross-­breeding with polar bears,” she said. “The ice caps are still going to be there and the ice will be more extensive than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years. There’ll be plenty of room for bears.” She headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” called Xulai.

  “They may have missed one chunk of that stuff,” she said. “I want a sample.”

  “Take this,” said Grandma, handing her the crystal cube that had furnished their quarters. “Tell it what you want. If there is any of the stuff unburned out there, it’ll tell you. And by the way, did you intend to pick it up in your bare hands. What were you going to carry it in?”

  No reply. Precious Wind flushed.

  Grandma shook her head. “You do have a habit of getting too narrowly focused, young woman. Stop and think before you do anything. Tell it what you need.” She indicated the device. “It’ll probably think of something.”

  The group left turned to food, more as a diversion than because they were hungry. Xulai checked on the babies, who had already been fed to repletion. As Xulai and the others chewed their food, they chewed at the subject without coming up with any new revelations and finally decided they had no reason to stay where they were. Once they were sure the cleanup crew had gone somewhere else, they moved around the charred site, picturing everything they saw, taking notes, taking samples. The crystal cube, which Precious Wind was now calling the Provider, came up with sample holders, tongs for grabbing things, even gummed labels. It did not come up with any samples, and Precious Wind found only two, eating her shoe. She managed to get them into a vial before the leather was quite penetrated.

  “We can be back at the Oracles by tonight,” Precious Wind announced. “If Grandma and Needly want to go there to return the Provider they lent us.”

  “Willum will be partway back to Wide Mountain by now,” said Grandma, who had decided she really didn’t want to go back to the Oracles. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t head in that same direction. We can always send a messenger to drop the cube off at the Oracles’ place. If we take something in our packs to eat on the way, we’ll save some time.”

  “Leave a riding horse here,” said Abasio. “A horse and a ­couple of blankets. I’ll go up there in the woods where Bear was and wait for him and Coyote. I won’t be far behind you.” He whispered to Xulai, and she nodded, reaching into the bag she was carrying. She handed him ul xaolat.

  “Read what it said in the daily reports,” she murmured. “It’s a nasty, sarcastic device. Don’t forget to tell it ‘Yes, Bung Quai!’ ”

  “Just what I need,” murmured Abasio, putting his arms around her. “A sarcastic assassin. We’ll all be there soon.”

  “I’ll stay with ’im,” Big Beaver offered. “Us n’ the animals’ll be back tomorrow or the next morning. ’Less’n that Coyote gets into trouble or somethin’.”

  Precious Wind and Deer Runner also volunteered to stay with Abasio. Before collapsing the “comforts” provided by the Oracles, they asked the camp to provide various food items they could pack for the journey. The rest of the group packed up and headed north, where an hour later they met the supply wagon Wide Mountain Mother had sent. The arriving wagoners expressed themselves in terms that Mother would never be allowed to hear, turned the wagon around, and headed back the way it had come. At least now they had company.

  BEAR AND COYOTE TROTTED UP and over the Cow’s rump, through a stunted forest of evergreens, along the Cow’s backbone, and far enough down the south side that they could see the desert below. Some distance to their left they spotted a large cluster of vehicles and the end of the railway that had extended from this place to the site of the destruction behind them. They moved along the side of the mountain until they could see several men moving in and out of a cave, almost below them. The two animals moved carefully forward until they were almost directly above the cave opening, hidden in a growth of low juniper. The truck that had sprayed the activator was parked in front and the driver was just sitting in it, not doing anything except maybe talking to himself, as his mouth was moving and he kept making violent gestures.

  The men working below did not seem interested in what they were doing. Wh
en the truck with Abasio’s old ganger chief on it showed up, winding its way among the rocks, most of the men disappeared inside the cave. On arrival, all the occupants of the truck but one followed them into the cave. The one who stayed outside was a rather fat man, half bald, with bulgy eyes, a very long nose, a large, ugly scar across his forehead, and a dark face—­Abasio had told Coyote he would see Chief Purple’s red face as dark.

  The fat man yelled into the cave—­if that was what it was. Bear and Coyote were above it, and couldn’t really tell. It was deep enough, at any rate, to hold a wagon and team of eight horses, one of the lead horses saddled, which two of the other men drove out and left standing, one man holding the lead team while the other one loaded things into the wagon.

  Bear said, “That wagon’s shiny. Shines like water.”

  It did shine like water. Like the little metal thing Coyote had given to Grandma.

  The driver of the alarm truck got out. His face was dark, too. If both of them had red faces, it probably meant they were both angry. The driver was yelling something, waving his arms, kicking at things, finally turning on Chief Purple and hitting him with a clenched fist. The blow was returned, the fight continued until Chief Purple kicked the man low on his body and then hit him on the neck when he bent over. The driver lay there, perfectly still.

  “He fights pretty good for a fat ol’ man,” said Coyote. “What’s he doin’ now?”

  “Gettin’ something outta that alarm truck. Looks like . . . what’re those? Looks like balls kids play with, but shiny. Metal. See, he’s turnin’ the part on the side. Like it was a honey jar. They’re like cans with a top that turns around to make it tight. He’s takin’ the rope off the side of the truck . . .”

  “ ’Basio called it a hose. Looks like a rope but it’s hollow in the middle.”

  Bear nodded. “Hose. He’s fillin’ those cans. You ’spose that’s the stuff that blew up?”