Fish Tails

by Sheri S. Tepper

  “Near as I could tell. He didn’t make much sense, and he was so mad his face was all swole up.”

  Abasio grimaced and rubbed his forehead, wishing greatly that Fixit had not chosen just this time to go off to Tingawa. “If he headed north, he’s headed for Edger country or west, one or the other. He wouldn’t go east or south. If he’s headed west, he’ll have to cross the Big River, and on our way from the pass, we used the only bridge that’ll take wagons and trucks; it’s the one northwest of here. He can’t take vehicles across the river anywhere else unless he goes north almost to Fantis.”

  “He’ll be going through Artemisia,” said Wide Mountain Mother. “He has to, to get to the bridge.”

  Coyote laid a paw on Abasio’s knee. “Listen, ’Basio. There’s somethin’ worse. That Chief Purple, he was yellin’ about the sea-­children. He was sayin’ he’s got poison t’put at all the Sea Duck places t’kill the sea-­children. He was yellin’ about the only one to go on livin’ was the Edges, nobody else.”

  Xulai drew in her breath, paling. Abasio got to his feet to pace a three-­step square, back and forth, muttering, “Sea Duck. He wouldn’t know where to find Sea Duck Three, and he has no way to get to Tingawa, so he’s headed for Sea Duck One. He’ll have to go through the mountains. When he left, where were you? Up on the Cow? Which direction did he go from there?”

  Bear moved his left front paw. “We were on the sun side of that Cow Mountain, up above his cave. He was headed around that Cow Mountain, n’ he had to go the long way. No way he could get that wagon through where that whale blew up. Couldn’t get through that little forest n’ all the sand piles inna way.”

  “You mean where we had the camp?”

  “Yeah. He couldn’ go that way. So he went aroun’ the mountain t’other way.”

  Abasio cursed himself for not waking Bear and Coyote earlier to find out what was going on. If old Chief Purple had headed around the east end of Cow Bluff and angled west to come up the east side of the Big River, he could already have crossed the bridge. It had been less than a full day’s trip south to Cow Bluff from the Oracles, slowly, with loaded wagons. It had been a full day ago that Coyote and Bear had seen the men depart.

  Bear mumbled, “That wagon a’ his. It’s real bright. Sun shines off it like off water—­”

  “Just a minute,” cried Abasio. “A wagon painted . . . could it be gold, Coyote? Painted to look like gold?”

  “What’s gold look like?” Coyote asked.

  Wide Mountain Mother took a chain from around her neck and held it out, twisting it so that the small pendant on it sparkled. “Like this, Coyote.”

  “Yeah, painted to look like that. Why?”

  “Then Grandma was right!” cried Needly. “Grandma knows about him. She says he’s the same man as that one you called Chief Purple.”

  “How does she know him, Needly?”

  “In wintertime, the Hench Valley men spent most of their time digging in the buried city. Then, come springtime, they’d haul everything they’d found up to Findem Pass to sell to the traders. Grandma used to go up there, see what was sold and bought, and she saw the Gold King and his wagon when he bought stuff from Old Digger. She even talked about the kind of cans Coyote described. That tag Coyote found? She thought it was like the ones on those cans, and that’s what made her think it was some kind of chemical. She thought the little tag Coyote found would confirm it, but Precious Wind said Tingawa can’t identify it.”

  Abasio growled, “That stuff might have been what Chief Purple used to buy himself a place in the Edge.”

  Xulai stared down at her knotted hands, frowning. “Tingawa doesn’t know what the tag identifies? If the Gold King only bought a few cans of it, up there at the pass, he either had to have some of it already, or it had to be mixed with other things in that ‘activator’ truck.”

  Abasio mused, “The truck had several tanks on it, the mixture probably wasn’t explosive until it was mixed, and the various substances were probably mixed as they were sprayed. Otherwise, the activator could have been too dangerous to have around. They must have thought they’d solved the explosive problem . . .”

  Xulai offered, “Maybe they had solved it. It didn’t blow up until something went wrong with the . . . what, the wiring?”

  Abasio grunted. “Possibly. Well, if Tingawa can’t identify the substance, we’ve got to get hold of some of it! The quickest way might to go back to Cow Bluff and find the red truck that sprayed it . . .”

  Coyote yelped, “Nah, ’Basio, that’s what we’re tellin’ you. Him and the driver had a fight. Purple knocked him down, and he didn’t move. But then, when Purple and all his men left, the driver got up off the ground and he went in the cave and came out with this burning stick, and he threw the stick at that truck and blew it up!” said Coyote. “He was yellin’ about nobody wantin’ t’be in a fish—­”

  Bear interrupted. “Sayin’ wasn’t gonna be anybody lef’ in two hunnert years to go inna fish.”

  Abasio shook his head, his hands curling into fists. “Sounds like he used dynamite to blow up the truck; they still use it in mining, even at Saltgosh. And, if he destroyed the truck to get rid of whatever went into the ‘activator’ substances, he’s probably also destroyed any supply of them they had in their cave.” He rose, stalked about, muttered, “Hell of a time for Fixit to take himself off to Tingawa.” He came back to Coyote. “You didn’t have time to count the men, did you?”

  Coyote swung his jaw from side to side, meaning no. “Happened too fast. Lots, though. Really lots. Two paws, five or six times, maybe.”

  Abasio kept up his pacing. “If Tingawa can’t identify the tag, then the only way it can be identified is to get some of the stuff and have Tingawa . . . or Fixit . . . tell us what it is. If the Gold King’s wagon is past the bridge, it’ll be headed up toward the pass.”

  He was thinking furiously. It was late afternoon. The sun would go down soon, and the cavalcade of horses and trucks would have to stop. Unless some of the trucks and cars still had headlights. Very few did. Batteries were almost an extinct creation, but if anybody had any, it would be old Chief Purple’s bunch. Who knew what might be found in the buried factory east of Fantis? Someone had to see to that. He’d talk to Fixit when he came back . . . which could be far too late.

  Xulai murmured, “Bear, can you tell us again what sort of container he put the stuff in?”

  “They was ’bout as big as your head. Real shiny, like sun on water. With a round place where a lid screws onto like a honey jar, and a kina . . .” He reached out to touch her belt.

  “Belt? Strap?”

  “Like that, yeah. A strap across the lid to hold it so it wuddn’ get open by mistake. And there was a hose at the side of the truck he got ’em from, that’s how he filled ’em. And he put ’em in his shiny wagon, an’ all those other men came runnin’ out and got inta their cars n’ trucks, n’ they drove off. They had . . . what’s those . . . ?” He looked questioningly at Coyote. “T’kill things with?”

  “Long guns, Xulai. Long guns,” said Coyote. “The kind that shoot really far.”

  “Did you hear him, Abasio?” she cried.

  Abasio was glaring at nothing. “Yes, I heard him. Rifles. Chief Purple was always and is now as bad a stinker as his . . . creatures are. The problem I’m struggling with is that once he gets past Saltgosh Valley, he’ll be in the forest. Maybe Fixit can locate him, even there, but I don’t know that he can; we don’t know when Fixit’s’s coming back, and if Old Purple gets to Wellsport . . .”

  “That Old Purple, he’s got a two-­paw hitch . . .” said Bear. “And he ’uz out front. Didn’t nobody go past him.”

  Abasio stopped pacing and turned toward Needly. “Do you happen to know, has Sun-­wings been flying?”

  Needly cried, “Oh, yes, Abasio. Before the healer lady from Lom left with Fixit, she loo
ked at Sun-­wings’ wounded wing, and she put some new stuff on her, and then Mr. Fixit took a portable machine over there, and between the two of them, they healed her wing beautifully, not even a scar, and—­”

  Wide Mountain Mother interrupted: “Meanwhile, they were giving most of the credit to you, my dear, for the wonderful job of field surgery you did.”

  “I need to go talk to Sun-­wings,” Abasio muttered.

  “What about the glactic guy?” asked Coyote.

  “The galactic guy had to run some sort of galactic errand.” Abasio turned away, fuming. Yet another Edger plan. What kind of mind would come up with a plan to kill everyone else and leave the planet for the Edgers? Even the driver of the truck seemed to have figured that out. Edgers were a dying breed. Couldn’t the old fat man see that? No. The old fat man couldn’t see past his nose. The old fat man not only did not have bao, he was off the scale the other way. He thought the whole universe was centered on him personally. Well, he wasn’t going to get away with it. Not damned likely. Abasio turned back toward the rider. “I think I know how to handle this.” He turned and ran across the plaza, headed for the building the Griffins were still occupying.

  Sun-­wings was dozing when he came in. She lifted one eyelid, yawned, and greeted him with a sound rather like a purr. Then, “Yes, Abasio?”

  “I understand you’ve been flying.”

  “I have,” she said with great satisfaction. “There’s a little pull in the membrane of the wing, but the healers assure me it will lessen and finally go away.”

  “Are you flying well enough to go to Saltgosh, carrying a passenger?”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because our hope of letting men survive, and our hope of giving you what you’ve asked for, are rapidly escaping from us. One of the Edgers—­you know who I mean?”

  “The ones we call the ‘gophers.’ Yes.”

  “Long and long ago, an artist among them created you, Sun-­wings. You and the others like you. He was a great artist because he made you beautiful and sane and marvelous. We are being visited by a shapeshifter who can help you and your children take a form that will swim and float and fly when the world is covered in water. However, doing it requires a substance . . . a material. One of the Edgers, the one called the Gold King, has taken the substance and he’s headed for Wellsport, across the mountains. There are a great many other Edgers in vehicles following him. They have weapons. He is going, we think, to sell the material to someone else. We can stop him, but I need to get word to Saltgosh now, in a hurry, and the only way I know to do it is to send someone.”

  “I can convey a message.”

  “Sun-­wings, even for such a purpose, I, we are unwilling to risk your life. The ­people in Saltgosh are very nervous. They’ve added some heavy weaponry which could hurt you badly. My idea was, if you’d take Willum—­”

  “The boy?” She laughed. “I dangled him when I took him from place to place in the mountains. He was . . .” She sought for the new word Needly had taught her. “Indignant.”

  “Couldn’t you let him sit on your shoulders, in front of your wings. See, they have a watchtower over there. If you fly into the valley low, past the watchtower, land down in the center of it, not threatening at all, and Willum gets off and runs toward the watchtower, they’ll know you’re not dangerous. He can deliver the message, and then you can bring him back.”

  “The message being?”

  “That they need to chop down one huge tree to block the road that runs west.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “You need to force the wagon to take the north road into the long valley where the giants are.”

  “You know about them?”

  “They’re very visible. Whenever I flew over that valley, I screamed a few times, just to bring them out. They keep on growing, you know.”

  “You mean, they’re still getting bigger?”

  “They were. The strange visitor, I am told, has sprayed them with something to shrink them, but it will take a long time. Perhaps it will only stop them growing. We were wondering when they would stop growing. I was told once, long ago, by someone, that there is a limit to what bone will support. I was also told that in prehistoric times there were huge creatures, as large as the giants. Perhaps they had bone like ours, not the same as other creatures, but not . . . unnatural. Do you expect the giants to stop this . . . Gold King?”

  “We think they will, yes. If we make enough noise to attract them. When I came through there, Willum’s hollering was all it took. The stuff we need is in two metal canisters. About as big around as my head. Very strong canisters. The giants attack because they’re hungry. Probably the canisters will survive any attack the giants make. Probably they will leave them alone.”

  “Then, probably, my sisters and I can fly in later and pick them up?”

  “I had thought someone could pick them up. We actually need only one of them. Or they’re small enough that you could carry a bit of netting, roll them into it, and carry both of them. Both of them together may not be as heavy as some prey animals I know you’ve carried. Needly has told us about her stay with you, of course. She’s very fond of you and Dawn-­song.”

  “Fond,” murmured Sun-­wings. “This is like what? Loving?

  “Like that, yes.”

  “And Willum?”

  Abasio laughed. “He’d still rather ride you than a horse, and it isn’t that you are more intelligent or better spoken, because Blue, the horse, is an extremely intelligent and well-­spoken creature. I think Willum is in love with the idea of flight.”

  “I can take the boy,” she said. This was the boy who had given his life for her child. Oh, yes, she could take this boy.

  “You’ll be landing in the pasture below the town. It would be nice if you could avoid eating any of their livestock while you wait for Willum to deliver the message.”

  “When is this to be done?”

  “It’s too late to go today. Dawn, in the morning.”

  “Then, if I’m not to eat one of their goats or sheep, you’d better ask someone to bring me some early breakfast.”

  Wakened before dawn, Willum was in a state of disbelief. He kept saying, “Oh, wow.”

  “Willum. You! Are! Not! Listening!”

  “Oh, wow. C’n I go all the way to Gravysuck and show Mom?”

  “I’ve changed my mind, you can’t go.”

  “ ’Basio, no, no.”

  “Then shut up and listen.”

  Willum clamped his hand over his mouth and appeared to give Abasio his full attention.

  “This will not do unless you can follow directions. You’ll fly over Saltgosh, down into the meadow, about halfway, so the Saltgoshians will see that Sun-­wings is not attacking. She’ll land down in the meadow. You get off. You’ll carry a flag, and you’ll wave the flag like crazy at the watchtower while you walk up the meadow toward the town. They’ve moved down to Snow Town, so the ­people who’ll see you are in the watchtower. You tell them the Griffin is waiting to take you back. You tell them I sent you. You find somebody, anybody, and ask them to find Melkin. You give Melkin the letter I’ll be writing while you are getting dressed to go flying. Once Melkin has read the letter, ask him for an answer.

  “Now, repeat back to me what I just said.”

  “Y’mean now?”

  “I mean now.”

  “I . . . I . . . guess I didn’t . . . hear what you just said.”

  Abasio just looked at him. Willum began to turn red. Abasio shook his head. “Then you can’t go. I’ll find some local child who wants to do the job and can listen to instructions. Perhaps Needly would go. She’s lighter. It would be easier on Sun-­wings. I’m sorry to have bothered you with it. I guess you’re just . . . too . . . stupid . . . to learn.”

  Willum turned a color very close to
purple. “ ’Basio, say it again. Please. Just say it one time again.”

  Abasio said it again slowly. When he had finished, Willum repeated it back to him, getting it mostly right. They did it again, and this time Willum got all of it right.

  “This is your one and only last chance, Willum. You foul this up by yelling or yodeling or any other kind of nonsense, and you are going home to Gravysuck. Up in the air, you keep your mouth shut. I do not want anyone looking up to see what’s up there, getting the idea Sun-­wings has captured a child, then trying to shoot her, do you understand me? What did I just say?”

  Willum repeated what he had just said. Abasio could hardly believe it. He went on:

  “You are to be silent. You are to find Melkin and give him the message which will ask him to give you an answer. If the answer is yes, you may stay there long enough to see what happens. If you can get the stuff from the wagon, that would be marvelous. The cans are melon-­shaped, pumpkin-­shaped, round, like your head . . . and there’s two of them. If the answer is no, you have to get back here fast and let me know. And if Sun-­wings tells me you’ve made a single sound out of line, you’re going home with the next wagon headed west. I’m telling her the same thing, so if you forget, be sure, she’ll remember. If you do anything to endanger her life, she has our permission to drop you and leave you wherever you fall.”

  “When do we go?” asked Willum.

  Abasio snarled, “What do you do if the answer is no?”

  Willum turned a deeper red, his face contorted in concentration. “Come back and tell you as fast as I can. We can, that is.”

  “You’re going to go now,” said Abasio, who had noticed that the large washtub in which Sun-­wings’s meals were served was being retrieved from her building. “As soon as you eat something, put on a double sweater and your jacket.”

  He stood in the sun, head down, trying to not-­think. So many things could go wrong.

  Someone tugged on his arm. One of Grandma’s children. “Abasio, Mr. Fixit said give this to you.” He held out a small packet. “He said it took some getting. He said time travel. Can anybody really do that?”