The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone

by T C Southwell

  "You can't guide the snails, can you?"

  "No, they go where they will, but they always stick together. Unless the herd splits, of course."

  "Why do they stay in herds?"

  Clon scowled. "This is a hell of a time for a lesson in snails, Sabre."

  "I'm sorry. I'll ask another time."

  "Do that."

  Sabre walked back to Tassin, who stared at the snail shell with wide eyes, a hand over her mouth. On the way, he stopped to examine a bloody paw print that was larger than his spread hand, and deeply pressed into the soil. He took Tassin's arm and led her away, answering her questions about its erstwhile occupants.

  "This poses a problem for us, you know,” he said.

  "Why?"

  "Because you want to leave, and that means camping again."

  "Oh. So what do we do? I don't want to be a snail woman for the rest of my life."

  "I might have a solution, but I have to ask Clon a few questions to see if it'll work, and he's not feeling too much like talking now."

  They returned to their snail, which grazed again with the rest of the herd. As they had seen many of the snail people do, they sat on its tail in the sun while the grass moved past.

  By mid-afternoon, the empty shell had been left behind, and Clon joined them, climbing onto the door. His face was still haggard and furrowed, but he apologised for his shortness earlier.

  "You wanted to know why the snails move in herds?"

  Sabre nodded.

  "As far as I know, it's a social gathering, for company, and to have others to mate with."

  "So a snail would be okay on its own?"

  Clon shrugged. "Sure, I don't see why not. When they come from the sea they spend many months travelling alone."

  "Do the wolves live in the forests?"

  "I don't think so. They mostly prey on the grazing beasts that inhabit the grasslands. There's not much for them to eat in the forests, I suppose, most animals there live in the trees."

  "Is this a strong snail?" Sabre patted the tail on which they sat.

  "Oh yes, she's a young snail, very strong, as you saw last night." Clon paused. "Why do you ask? Are you worried about the wolves returning? Because it's unlikely that they will for a very long time, and even then, you'll be safe in her."

  "No, it's not that. Tassin wants to look for people who are similar to her culture. But now we know it's dangerous to camp in the grasslands, so I was planning on taking the snail."

  The chief snorted. "Impossible. There's no way to make her leave the herd, or to guide her."

  "I have a way."

  "Oh?"

  Sabre tapped the brow band. "I explained about this, and one of the things it can do is control animals."

  "Amazing." Clon looked awe struck.

  "So if I guide the snail to the edge of the forests, where we'll be safe, she'll find and join another herd?"

  "Yes." He shook his head in admiration. "That's a mighty handy tool, that cyber band."

  Sabre quelled a grimace of distaste and nodded. He had not told Clon that the cyber had once controlled him, and he had been its tool. The chief gazed at the receding shell of the slain snail, now small in the distance.

  "It's a pity you want to leave, though. Our tribe is a small one. New faces are so welcome."

  "This is not the life for us, pleasant though it is,” Sabre said. “Tassin's not happy here. We're not snail people; we must rejoin our own kind."

  "Where will you go?"

  "Back to the forests, then maybe east, to see what's there. If beyond Malkil there's only sea, there's really nowhere else to go."

  Clon nodded. "When will you leave?"

  "Tonight. At the moment, the herd is heading away from where we want to go, so the sooner we turn the snail, the better."

  The chief sighed, deep furrows appearing between his brows. "We have two things to mourn tonight, then. The feast will be a big one. I'd better tell the others." He jumped down and walked off.

  A subdued, mournful atmosphere dominated the gathering that night. The people muttered while they ate, and the children huddled close to their parents. The story-tellers told of heroism and tragic past encounters with wolves. Couples approached Sabre and Tassin to say goodbye, some tearful, even though they hardly knew them. Many of them pressed gifts of food, pottery, and skins into Sabre's hands.

  When the time came to leave, the tribe gathered to see them off, and Clon patted the snail's shell.

  "Look after her, and don't try to drive her into the forest. She'll get stuck between the first two trees."

  "I'll try to remember." Sabre smiled.

  Shan was absent, which surprised Sabre, since he had been closer to them than anyone else. When he asked Clon where the young hunter was, the chief's face fell.

  "Derk was Shan's older brother. He's in his snail, mourning."

  "Oh. Please tell him how sorry we are for the death of his brother, and bid him farewell."

  "I will."

  Sabre rapped on the shell, and Tassin followed him inside. He walked to the rear of the shell and sat with his back to the smooth wall, facing the beast's head. Tassin dithered for a bit, not sure where to sit. Clearly she did not want to be in the direct influence of the cyber band. She settled against the side.

  Sabre closed his eyes and thought about Tassin's wish to find a more suitable people to live with, and the danger of the wolves, then the idea of turning the snail and guiding it to the forest. In the past, the cyber had reacted to the situation they were in, but on this occasion he had to communicate his, or rather, Tassin's, wishes to the AI. It did not need any explanation of what had to be done, and he sensed the green flashes within his mind that indicated its understanding. A vivid blue glow replaced the brow band's flickering red, and the deep vibrations began, a low, near silent hum. At first there seemed to be no reaction, then the muscular rhythms of the snail's back quickened and changed as the great beast turned.

  Sabre opened his eyes and looked at Tassin without turning his head. "We're on our way."

  "It worked?"

  "Naturally. Why should a snail be any different? It might not have much of a brain, but it does have one."

  "How long do you think it will take?"

  "Quite a while, at a snail's pace." He smiled. "I'm not too sure. It's stopped grazing, and it's going much faster than usual, but that's because it's a new sensation. When it gets hungry, it'll slow down and start to graze again, I suppose."

  "And you'll have to sit there the whole time?"

  "No. Once the compulsion is deep in its brain, it'll just keep going. This is a form of hypnotism, very effective on simple brains like this one. On higher animals it's more difficult. Some are impossible to hypnotise, and have to be controlled by the cyber all the time. The sand dragon was difficult. That was a surprisingly intelligent lizard. The more complex the brain, the more difficult it is to influence it. All I'm giving the snail is a wish to travel in this direction. I don't want to interfere too much with its instincts."

  "Otherwise when the wolves come, it won't withdraw?" she asked.

  "Exactly. It also won't eat, and these animals need to eat almost all the time to sustain their enormous bulk on something as nutritionally poor as grass."

  After about half an hour, the brow band's blue glow and hum abated. Sabre clapped his hands and went outside, and Tassin followed. The herd was still visible in the distance, about two and a half kilometres away. The snail was moving at roughly five kilometres per hour, he calculated, faster than normal, which was one or two kilometres per hour.

  At her enquiring look, he explained, "I wanted to make sure I hadn't brought any others with me. The cyber's got an effective radius of five hundred metres, so some of the other snails were within range. But it must have understood that I only wanted this one, and limited its influence."

  "I thought it had a two kilometre range?"

  "No, that's the scanners."

  Tassin nodded, and they returned t
o the snail to bed down for the night.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The snail blazed a lonely trail south eastward, its cropped track arrow-straight across the grasslands, detouring only for obstacles such as gullies or rocks. Each night they walked ahead and built a cooking fire, and by the time they had eaten, the beast was well past them. During the day, Sabre hunted and Tassin walked beside the snail, digging up the roots and tubers that the snail people ate.

  At night they slept in the shell's warm safety, knowing that by the morning they would be between twelve and twenty-four kilometres closer to their destination. The snails stopped for three or four hours at night to sleep, and theirs continued to do so, its resting patterns unaffected by the cyber's command. Although it was slower than walking, the advantages outweighed its lack of speed, and they were in no hurry. Or at least, Tassin was not.

  Sabre spent more and more time away hunting. He complained that game was scarce, and spoke to her seldom. She wondered if he was tired of her company, and now could not wait to be rid of her so he could get on with his life. She missed him, and spent her time looking forward to his return. Long sunny days passed with no sign of the mage in any guise, which made her wonder if he had fallen prey to the wolves. Nevertheless, Sabre assured her that he stayed within scanner range when he was hunting, alert for any human sign.

  Days became weeks, which passed without either of them really noticing. The snail's smaller coils were well stocked with water skins, enough to drink and bathe. Bathing was a straightforward process. A leather bucket was filled and carried down to the snail's back, where they stood in it and washed. Tassin bathed during the day while Sabre was hunting, and he bathed while she tended the fire. Once they were finished, they overturned the bucket to give the snail a wash too. The beast did not seem to mind, and its warmth soon dried it.

  Gearn followed the snail at a distance. Its trail made it unnecessary to risk going any closer. He had no fear of the huge wolves; his illusions protected him. When the Queen and the warrior mage had joined the snail people, Gearn had burnt with impatience and frustration. The wait had given him time to reflect, and he realised that the warrior mage had seen through all his illusions and avoided each trap without revealing his knowledge of its true nature.

  Gearn's estimation of the warrior mage's magic had increased, and he used the time to think of new ways to kill the man. Illusions were his strongest magic, and if they did not work, that called for a whole new strategy. First he wanted to lull them into a false sense of security, so he stayed well away from the snail.

  Almost two months after leaving the herd, Sabre woke from a deep sleep and lay wondering what had disturbed him. Tassin's steady breaths broke the silence, and a glance at her showed him that she still slept. Nothing seemed unusual. The snail's faint munching sounds told him that it was grazing. A red flashing drew his attention to the cyber's scanner data. A tight bunch of light points moved towards them, following the snail's track. Wolves. They were still about one and a half kilometres away, and the snail had not detected them. Sabre rose and rolled up his bedding, then shook Tassin awake. She blinked at him in bleary surprise.

  "Get up. Wolves are coming," he said.

  Her eyes filled with fear, and she scrambled from her bedding. He rolled up her blankets and climbed the steps into the upper part of the shell, where Tassin joined him, shivering in the chill of the upper shell.

  "Why has the snail not withdrawn?" she asked.

  "I don't think it's aware of them yet."

  "What if your hypnotism will not let it?"

  Sabre considered that possibility. The scanners showed that the wolves were only a kilometre away, approaching fast. How close did they have to be before the snail became aware of them? Had his compulsion to travel south-east overridden its instincts to protect itself? He doubted it. The survival instinct was one of the strongest. Tassin huddled on the opposite side of the shell, wrapped in her blankets.

  He said, "If it doesn't close up soon, I'll use the cyber."

  She nodded, her eyes wide. Sabre counted fifteen wolves, half a kilometre away. How long did it take the snail to withdraw?

  Four hundred metres... three hundred.

  The shell tilted, and the soft slithering of silken hide on smooth shell reached him. The snail was withdrawing. The sleek expanse of muscle that ran up the front of the shell contracted, pulling the vast body in.

  Two hundred metres.

  The massive bulk of snail flesh came into sight at the top of the curve, moving towards them.

  One hundred metres.

  Sabre braced himself, then caught Tassin as she was flung into his arms. The shell had fallen over.

  Fifty metres.

  The plug of flesh slowed, reaching its peak, now at the top of the curve.

  Twenty metres, ten. There was a faint squeaking as the door was pulled into the shell's entrance, and he sighed, hardly aware of Tassin huddled against him. They were safe. Moments later, the wolves' padding and sniffing came through the shell. The scanners showed them all around the snail, circling. Claws scraped on the shell, and Tassin buried her face in his chest, her arms tight around his ribs. Sabre held her, patting her back. Teeth grated on the shell like a gigantic rasp grinding on rock, followed by the frustrated whining of hungry wolves. Claws scraped again, and teeth grated in another location. Tassin tensed further, whimpering.

  "It's okay, they can't get in," Sabre murmured.

  Soft snarling, and a few thuds made him think of the dead, gutted snail. There were no other snails to choose from this time. More scraping, grating, whining and snarling penetrated the shell. Tassin was glued to his chest like barnacle, but the noises distracted him. The shell rocked a little, and claws scrabbled at the side for a second. Were they trying to climb on top of the snail? The shell was four metres broad, and he doubted that they would succeed in that venture, and even if they did it would do them no good.

  The shell rocked again, and he wondered what they were doing. They had to be powerful animals to rock the multi-tonne snail. Claws and teeth rasped against the tough shell, a dull grinding sound that grated at his nerves. Tassin released her vice-like grip on his chest to stuff her fingers into her ears, still pressed against him. Sabre listened. What if they found a way in? The door, made of thick chitin, was the weakest point. Could fifteen wolves eat an entire snail, thereby exposing them?

  Tassin groaned, her face twisted with fear and loathing. "Sabre, make them stop!"

  Sabre looked down at her in surprise. There was a way, with the cyber. When the other snail had been attacked in the herd, he had thought of the cyber. It had been too far away, nearly a kilometre, but these wolves were right outside. He closed his eyes and turned his thoughts inwards, communicating with the supercomputer. The wolves were a threat, he thought, they might succeed in killing the snail, and perhaps attacking the Queen. They must be driven off.

  The brow band lighted, and the deep throbbing hum filled the confined space. Tassin squirmed and jammed her fingers more tightly into her ears, which was futile against the subsonic hum. The vibrations deepened and intensified, and the hairs on his arms rose. Behind him, the mighty wall of flesh rippled, almost shivered, and Sabre sensed the power of the cyber touch even him, its emanations were so strong.

  The cyber broadcast fear in powerful waves, and Sabre understood why. A strong urge to run could force the snail to emerge and attempt to obey. The idea that there was something bad in the shell could also drive the snail from its home, but pure fear would only make the snail close up more tightly. The wolves would get nervous, and wonder what made them afraid, then they would follow their instinct to flee. The grating of teeth and claws lessened, and more whining replaced it. A burst of snarling told him that one wolf had blamed another for its inexplicable cowardice.

  Sabre wished he could see the huge, yellow-eyed wolves stricken by terror, looking around as nervously as sheep, tails tucked. The grating stopped, and Tassin unplugged her ears, listen
ing wide-eyed. Faint, worried whines were the only sound, then the padding of heavy feet. Sabre consulted the scanners. The wolves were trickling away from the snail, the most fearful leading the more confused. He almost laughed in triumph, then a cold sensation on his chest distracted him. Tassin had moved away, looking embarrassed.

  "Have they gone?"

  "They're leaving."

  The Queen tried to flatten the hairs that stood up on her arms, but the cyber's deep, soundless drone kept them rising while fear throbbed in the air. Sabre watched the scanners as the wolves passed the five hundred metre mark and left the cyber's influence. They paused, probably wondering why they were no longer afraid, and milled in confusion. Perhaps they considered whether they should go back to the prospective meal, but it seemed that cowardice triumphed over hunger, and they moved off.

  Sabre watched until they passed out of scanner range, then focussed on Tassin again. The cyber's hum faded, and she rubbed away the goose bumps on her arms. Sabre settled back against the wall of flesh, which had warmed the top of the shell, making it cosy. He doubted that the snail would open for a while yet, until it was sure the wolves would not return. Pulling his roll of blankets onto his lap, he unrolled it and spread it on the floor. A yawn cracked his jaw.

  Tassin watched his preparations with a jaundiced eye. "You're going to sleep now?"

  "Sure, the wolves have gone, and I doubt the snail will open until morning. Besides, I'm tired."

  "What if the wolves return?"

  He shrugged. "The cyber will wake me."

  Tassin looked grumpy, but spread her bedding and lay down.

  Sabre woke as the cushion of flesh behind his head moved away. Knowing that they had little time, he dragged Tassin from her blankets and helped her to stumble around the curve after the receding snail. When the shell was upright once more, he clapped his hands.