by Darrell Bain
“Who's left here?” Lyda asked. “Do either of you know?"
“Gavin is on the other side of the column helping some others who were hurt. There's a band of men around somewhere trying to tie tendrils and cloth and vines together into clubs. The kids scattered and most of the women are trying to round them up,” Rayne said. “I got all that while I was tending to the wounded."
“I should have gotten here sooner,” Lyda said miserably. “I could have prevented a lot of this. But I was like Elijah; I had to stand still and wait."
“No use worrying over what might have been,” Rayne said.
“Yes, I guess not. Listen, Elijah, will you help me by going one way while I go the other and tell people how to handle these things? Otherwise, there's going to be lots more like this poor woman.” The one with the broken bones had been tossed against a box by a big hexapod rearing up and using its front pair of appendages like hands to grab the woman and throw her like a rag doll. Her outstretched arms had shattered when she attempted to save her body from being hurt worse as she slammed into the side of the box.
“Sure. And if I can find anyone who'll stay and watch, and a hexapod that will cooperate, I'll give them a demonstration."
Lyda waved consent and headed toward the column. Behind her, both Elijah and Rayne grinned at each other, seeing her going in the direction where she knew Gavin was located.
She found him standing between two medium-sized hexapods with a hand on each of them, stroking their crests and talking to a wary collection of men, woman and a few children.
“See, they're not dangerous; in fact, they like to be petted. You just have to move slow and let them get used to you. Come on now, some of you try it; it's the only way to stop them from attacking."
One little eight year old girl wiggled out of her keeper's grasp and ran toward Gavin.
“Slow!” he cautioned. “Take it slowly, Merrilyn."
The girl slowed down and stopped beside one of the animals while Gavin kept his hands on their crests. She reached up and began stroking it, then laughed as she felt the rumbling stir her body like her daddy's old massage chair when he let her sit in it.
“What's his name?” Merrilyn asked.
“I call this one Tweedledee and this one Tweedledum. Dee and Dum for short.” Gavin saw Lyda watching him. He nodded with a gladdened expression, then winked at her. Lyda smiled back at him, feeling the anxiety ease from her mind at seeing him safe and well.
“Can I ride one of them?” the girl asked.
“Not yet,” Gavin told her. “Just pet them at first and remember, always move slowly when you're around them. And never run, no matter how big they are. Who's next?"
One by one, most of the band that had gathered around him came cautiously forward and touched Gavin's pets. As quickly as they were satisfied, Lyda picked several of them who had shown the most confidence and asked them to go to the nearby columns and show other people how to handle the animals. She waited until the rest had finished, then stroked them briefly herself. She looked around. Everyone had either gone or was going. She stood on tiptoe and gave Gavin a brief kiss. “Please help everyone as much as you can, Gavin. Show them they won't get hurt so long as they're gentle with the creatures. I need to see what else is happening and what else we can do for the people who have been hurt."
“Sure, Ly—uh, Miss Brightner. I'll take Dee and Dum around with me. That ought to help. Come on, Merrilyn. You can be my assistant."
“I can?"
“Sure. You were the bravest person here. You came first."
Merrilyn beamed.
Lyda began counting heads and getting the column's people organized, what remained of them. After that, she would see to the other groups in the confederacy.
* * * *
The carnage had been horrible. Many sleep periods later, some of which she had skipped in order to keep their little society organized and help with the wounded, Lyda met with the other surviving leaders. Only half of them were still alive. Like the good people they were, many of them had insinuated themselves between the creatures and those of their charges who had aggravated the suddenly appearing animals. Luckily, Lyda had spread Gavin's discovery of how to tame the little tray-dwelling hexies in the days before the big ones were pushed into the environment by the aliens. Some, like herself, had either consciously remembered, or extrapolated the knowledge of Gavin's techniques to the bigger hexapods.
“There's still plenty of the ‘pods roaming around, Miss Brightner, and some people just can't make themselves face them, especially the big ones. They run, and if it's been antagonized in the past, it will take off after them. They don't always kill, but they hurt and maim—and you know we have no painkillers and damn little in the way of anything to set bones or sew up gashes.” The woman speaking was Savella Meister, a competent former nurse who had stepped in to replace the wounded leader of her column's community. He was still alive, but in great pain and unable to move about.
“We just have to keep trying,” Lyda said. “And somehow, we've got to stop those bands on the other side who have devised weapons and are killing the hexapods for the meat or because they still think they're dangerous. That's just making it worse for the rest of us."
“How can we stop them? We can barely take care of ourselves right now."
Lyda had brought Gavin with her as her resident hexapod expert. She turned to him. “Gavin, do you have any ideas?” He had just returned from a days-long expedition to other columns, spreading the word of how to tame the hexapods.
“I learned something that might be useful, but...” He closed his mouth in a firm line and a pensive expression formed on his face, the one Lyda found he wore when different thoughts were conflicting. “...well, if you make real good friends with a ‘pod, it will fight other ‘pods for you. But I don't like it and I don't think they like it either. Afterward, their rumble isn't nearly as obvious and you get the impression that they've done something that goes against their grain. Frankly, we still know so little about them yet that I would be hesitant to use that approach."
“Do you think they would fight people? If you showed them which ones you wanted them to attack?"
“Miss Brightner, I don't know. They are such friendly creatures, I would hate to get them started doing something like that. It might turn out to be the worst thing we can do.” Gavin was careful to address Lyda by her title when other people were around. She hadn't even had to tell him that; he was intelligent enough to know better instinctively. Lyda wondered sometimes if he was like her and felt a vitality and self-assurance over and above the normal energy and enthusiasm of youth. She intended to ask him after this crisis was under control.
“You may be right, Gavin, but give it some thought. I know that Buddy follows me around like a puppy part of the day."
“Buddy?” someone asked.
“That's what I call the ‘pod that I met that first night. I don't know where it goes other times, but the last few hours before I go to sleep by my box, it shows up and sticks close. It's like it knows not to come around in the mornings when I'm having meetings and checking on progress and activities and helping the nurses and so on."
“Dum and Dee stay with me, too. Listen, much as I hate to, I'll take a run toward the other side of the circle and see what develops—and what happens if I'm attacked. Maybe they will fight humans, as well as other hexies to protect their friends."
“See me before you go,” Lyda told him.
Gavin nodded, then sat silently while the others talked, merely answering such questions as he could about the hexapods when asked. Mostly, he had to say he didn't know. He did reveal that despite their fearsome teeth, they appeared to be vegetarian in nature, rather than carnivores.
An hour or so later, Lyda stood up. “I guess that's all for now, then. We'll give it a few more days here for stragglers to show up, then try to get back into our routines. I hope you all will, too. We can't let something like this ruin what we've accomplished."
“Have you ever thought that the damn aliens are purposely making survival as hard as possible for us?” Savella asked as a parting question.
“I've thought of it,” Lyda acknowledged, “but I can't see rhyme nor reason why they're doing all these things to us. That's still no reason to sit down and give up, though. Gavin, come along, please. I need to talk to you before you leave."
* * * *
“You mean you've had this all along and never let on?” Gavin asked, holding the pistol Lyda had placed in his hand. His blue eyes glinted with admiration.
“I thought it best to keep it a secret. And you do, too. I don't ever want to lead by intimidation. But I wanted you to have it on your trip.” She smiled prettily at him. “And you be careful. I've never had a boyfriend before. I want you to come back to me."
Gavin tucked the gun away in his jacket pocket. He put his arms around her waist and Lyda let him pull her close. The hug turned into a kiss and the kiss lingered. Lyda parted her lips and welcomed his tongue, the first time for that. She felt her body responding with a pervading excitement completely new to her. When she finally broke the kiss, she looked into the blue of his eyes and thought she could easily get lost there. She lay her head against his chest for a moment, then turned him loose. After he left, she watched his diminishing figure until it was out of sight.
* * * *
Gavin was gone four days. While he was away, Lyda got the classes and their minute industries going again; sent scouts out to try to find missing children and tried her very best to present an example of facing the alien trials with determination and confidence. She was pleased to see her attitude percolating among the survivors, like a charismatic mayor getting a city back in order after a natural disaster. She never hinted that she, like Savella, was beginning to believe the aliens planned all the nasty surprises for reasons of their own. It would do no good and could only harm morale for the majority to believe that the next catastrophe lay just around the corner.
Every afternoon, Buddy appeared and tagged her footsteps like Tonto following the Lone Ranger. She didn't know whether it (though she had begun calling it “he") was being protective, or simply seeking her companionship. Either way, she came to like having him around. The soundless rumbling when he was petted always vibrated through her body like the best of a whole body massage, sometimes so intense that it made her shiver with delight. At sleep time, he tucked his jointless legs under him like a cat laying in a shaft of sunlight. His whiskers flattened over the rounded appendage at each end of his body and lay quiescent. Eventually, he would get up and stand by the box. It opened and he disappeared within it as if it were his home. Lyda wasn't tempted to follow. She had gotten a report of one person who had tried and never reappeared.
* * * *
Gavin returned with one of his arms in a bloody, improvised sling with the tale of a vicious gang that had learned how to hunt the hexapods by singling out one traveling alone and surrounding it like a pack of hungry wolves. They would then slaughter it with clubs and spears, made of vines tied and stuck together in overlapping strands to make them rigid enough to support a knife or other sharp object attached to the end. It put the hexapods’ fangs out of reach and they appeared not to know how to overcome the disparity.
Gavin had sustained his wound when he attempted to stop one such incident.
“I tried to tell them that they could make friends with the ‘pods a lot easier than hunting them down and killing them, but they didn't want to listen. And get this; they're eating parts of them. Apparently, they have a good taste. I'm scared that idea will spread. People get tired of the same food all the time."
Lyda touched his arm tenderly. “How did this happen?"
Gavin looked away for a moment, then met her gaze. His eyes were damp with unshed tears. “I was trying to save Tweedledee. He went off by himself for some reason and got caught by them. I did find out one thing, though. Our ‘pods will fight for us if we're threatened. One of those bastards won't be bothering anyone again, and another will speak soprano the rest of his life, if he lives.
“Lyda, I don't know how to describe that gang, other than that they're vicious. If I hadn't had your pistol, I doubt that I'd be alive right now, or Tweedledum either.” He stroked his remaining pet fondly and was rewarded with a blissful rumbling only he could feel. He closed his eyes and let it course through his body before continuing.
“You had the right idea when you said we'd have to do something about them. And the sooner, the better. There aren't many of them, but they are monsters. I saw some women with them, all roped together like a coffle of slaves I saw in a history museum in New Orleans once. Some of them looked like they had all the spirit beaten out of them. They walked with their heads hung down like they didn't care anymore what happened. But there were others I could see who glared pure hatred at the sorry bastards. I'd bet anything that if they had a chance, they'd gut every one of them and leave them laying in a pile of their own intestines."
Lyda shivered at the memory of Big Bill, the first time she had thought of him in a long time. She supposed Gavin knew what had happened to her; it was common knowledge, even though no one talked about it. Something he said made her think of possibilities.
“You said they were roped together?"
“Uh huh. With rope made from braided tendrils, it looked like."
“Do you think if we got in among them long enough to cut the ropes, they'd fight?"
“Oh yes, most of them would probably like nothing better. But, Lyda, I don't want you to...” Gavin cut the sentence short when he saw her face. When he was alone with her, it took an effort to remember that this slight, pleasantly curved girl who was still a bit shy of her fourteenth birthday was not only the leader of their group, but the head of the confederacy of columns. “Sorry. I know you have to do what's necessary. It scares me, though. I care for you. A lot."
“I care for you, too, Gavin. And it scares me, too, but that doesn't absolve me of responsibility. We're going to have to do something sooner rather than later, before they get stronger."
“What are you planning, if I may ask?"
“I'm not sure yet. I'll have to think about it and talk to the others. In the meantime, get your arm out of the way so I don't hurt it. I'm going to hold you real close and kiss you again."
Gavin grinned at her, then bent to meet her lips and held her with his good arm while they cemented and reinforced their bonding. Lyda wondered if she might not be in love, and that night thought about what sex with Gavin might be like. Given a little more time, she intended to find out.
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lyda sent Elijah to warn the other leaders about the gangs and to pass on more information about the hexapods. She sent other instructions with him as well. “Tell them I want everyone here three days form now to plan some kind of strategy against those two gangs. We have to end that, and as soon as we can."
“I agree. Damn it all, wouldn't you think that with plenty of food in their bellies they'd be satisfied to ... no, cancel that. There's always going to be the psychopaths and the people with no moral scruples who will take advantage of others whenever they can. I guess we'll always have to contend with them.” He ran his hands over the crest of the hexapod he had named Beeswax and was rewarded with a rumbling vibration. “All right, me and Beeswax here will leave as quick as I can get a few things together. It'll take two days or so to get around to everyone."
“We'll be looking for you. Be careful, Elijah. We can't afford to lose you."
“I'll be careful,” he assured her.
Lyda stepped forward and gave him a hug, the first time she had ever done that. “You're a good man, Elijah. I don't know what I'd do without you."
“Somehow, I suspect you'd manage, but thanks for the compliment. You take care, too."
As Lyda watched him stride off, he raised a hand to his face. She thought he was probably wiping at his eyes, just as she was having to do. The
y were suddenly wet.
After seeing Elijah on his way, Lyda went to find Gavin. Aside from the developing romance, he had made such an impression on her that she intended to appoint him to one of the vacancies left by the loss of Karen and Troy, neither of whom had returned. Not even their bodies had been found. Lyda thought someone had probably dragged them to one of the disposal areas and let them be absorbed like the other waste. She still had inquiries out, but had about lost hope by now. Besides the promotion, there was another matter she needed to take up with him.
As usual, she found him working with the hexapods. The surviving Tweedle almost never left his side now. Three others just as large were crowding around him, each trying to get closer to him than the other, like house dogs vying for attention from their master or mistress. It was funny to watch. He had an appreciative audience of other people idle at the moment. Gavin recognized her laugh and looked up. He motioned to the people nearby and urged them to come closer.
“Just be slow and gentle. Pretty soon, they'll probably choose someone to tag around after. If not, don't try to force anything on them and they'll be back.” He left the observers and came over to Lyda.
“Hi.” Gavin winked at her.
Lyda smiled. She felt her heart skip a beat just looking at him. It might really be love, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Let's walk for a bit."
“Sure. Come along, Tweedle."
“What happened to the Dee or Dum?"
“When the other was killed, I dropped it and just started calling him Tweedle. Where's Buddy, by the way?"
“Oh, he usually goes off on some business of his own in the mornings when he knows I'm going to be busy. He'll be back later. Gavin, do you feel up to another trip?"
“What's up now?"
“There's still too much antagonism between us and the hexapods. Not here, with the way you've showed everyone how nice they are, but at some of the other columns..."
“Yeah, I've heard. Anyone in particular?"
“Uh huh. Livingston's column. Or what was his column before he got himself killed the night the ‘pods came. Their new leader isn't helping much with the situation. I thought maybe you could offer some assistance."
