The Inferior

by Peadar O'Guilin

  ‘Yes, dear brother. N-n-now.’

  Stopmouth staggered as though the world had suddenly lurched under his feet. He felt the eyes of Mossheart, Indrani and Rockface on him. But not Wallbreaker’s. The chief looked only at the hides on the floor. ‘Of course,’ he muttered, ‘if you don’t think the reward is worth the risk, you can always stay here instead.’

  ‘Is not worth risk!’ shouted Indrani suddenly. She threw down the hides she’d been working on and stormed out of the room.

  ‘That one’s mad,’ said Rockface, in forced good spirits. ‘People will sing of our deed long after the Traveller’s been forgotten.’

  Stopmouth gathered himself. He took a deep breath and swallowed the words that first jumped to his lips. Instead, he said, ‘Wallbreaker, w-w-when…if I c-c-c-c—’ He took another breath. Never in his life had it been so difficult to speak to Wallbreaker. ‘If I come b-b-back, p-p-promise we will be b-b-brothers again?’

  Wallbreaker nodded curtly, and then, as if not trusting himself to speak, he waved them out of his presence.

  Stopmouth and Rockface jogged to a house on the perimeter nearest Flim, where friends helped them over the wall.

  ‘You’re brave lads,’ said one of the hunters, but he was shaking his head and Stopmouth knew the man thought they were crazy.

  On the far side of the barrier, Stopmouth and Rockface circled back towards Hairbeast, keeping to the shadows. It was the middle of the day and even in the shade sweat sheened the hunters and soaked into their loincloths and tool-belts. They kept moving, regardless. A few Clawfolk skittered past, stalking one of the surviving Hairbeasts. Finally, after a quick check of the Roof for Flyers, they ducked into a crumbling house that looked as if it would collapse on any creature daring to shelter in it. Parts of it were rigged to do just that. The top floor, however, was trap-free and a lot less dangerous than most of the other buildings in the area.

  The men filled their water skins in a nearby channel and dragged them up to a small shelter on the roof that was built to look like rubble from the air. Stopmouth hoped it worked. He’d been having bad dreams about Flyers since the night of the disaster.

  ‘We’ll have a fine view of it when it starts!’ said Rockface happily. His companion nodded. A wide street led away from the house straight to the new human border. Another house had been prepared for them on the Clawfolk side of the perimeter in case the enemy had decided to come from that direction instead. But the roads were narrow there and the lines of sight more restricted.

  Stopmouth dug out a store of smoked flesh. ‘Ugh,’ he said. ‘A-A-Armourback!’

  ‘There’ll be a lot more where that came from soon enough,’ said Rockface. He too grimaced when he chewed on the flesh.

  ‘We should save some for later, hey? It’ll be so boring waiting here. For all we know, the Armourbacks mightn’t even bother turning up!’

  Within minutes of finishing the snack, the big man was on his back, eyes closed and snoring.

  Stopmouth watched the empty streets and distracted himself with daydreams of Indrani. They didn’t seem so impossible now. Wallbreaker had promised, hadn’t he? Stopmouth imagined the fine skin on her arms, hairless and gently curved. He imagined her lips and the strangely perfect teeth hidden behind them.

  Something caught his eye: a pair of hunters were racing back from the direction of the old perimeter. The man in front had already thrown away his spear, so intent was he on escape.

  Another movement. Stopmouth almost shouted to warn the men but, remembering why he was there, bit his tongue. Three Flyers were swooping down towards the running humans. Coloured wings folded inwards and the creatures dived. Just when it seemed as if they’d crash into a building, they pulled sharply upwards and released the rocks they’d been holding in their claws. The first man’s head burst open. His companion raced away, running for his life. To Stopmouth’s relief, the second hunter made it to the walls, where a hail of slingstones drove the Flyers away.

  There could be no doubt now. The Armourbacks were coming.

  A tenth of a day later, or maybe a fifth, the air filled with a dozen more Flyers. They glided high above Man-Ways. Now and again they’d swoop out of sight behind the walls. Stopmouth saw one of the creatures rise up with a child in its claws until something knocked both it and its prey out of the air. He expected to hear the sound of human cheering. None came. Perhaps the child had died in the fall.

  Now the streets began to fill with Hoppers and Armourbacks. Other Flyers arrived to perch on nearby buildings.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Rockface, waking.

  ‘Hush!’

  Stopmouth tried to count the enemy below him. Impossible, of course, but there didn’t seem to be as many as he’d expected. Had they really suffered such tremendous losses in their attack on Flim? If so, surely they couldn’t afford more of the same now! But then he remembered the amazing organization this strange alliance had shown on the night Speareye had been killed.

  The rest of their force must be circling round to the other side, he thought. After several tries, he managed to communicate this information to Rockface.

  ‘So how will we know which of the two groups has the Talker?’ asked the older hunter.

  Stopmouth shrugged. Perhaps the ones with the Talker could be spotted by their superior organization. Then again, such a group might just be following previous orders. Or maybe the Armourback chief was even smarter than that: maybe it had used the Talker to teach prearranged signals to all the species under its control. However it was done, the discipline was perfect. Tens of Armourbacks passed in a line through the streets below with tree trunks on their backs. Hoppers hopped alongside with sacks of what might have been water skins or smoked flesh. After the enemy fighters, the two humans saw another strange sight: hordes of Armourback and Hopper females escorting rivers of young.

  ‘Can’t leave them behind,’ said Rockface, ‘or the hunters’d come home to nothing!’

  There were definitely more beasts than Stopmouth had at first guessed. The small vanguard had grown tenfold, and more creatures were still arriving.

  ‘W-what w-w-w-ill they all eat?’ whispered Stopmouth.

  Rockface didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

  The enemy moved to occupy houses. Downstairs, something hopped into the hallway. A rumbling sound shook the building, followed by gratifying Hopper screams. Up and down the street, dust emerged from other houses too, along with further cries of pain.

  Stopmouth fell asleep sometime after dark. He didn’t wake until the Roof had filled with light again, although a small square patch of it remained black where a Globe had once struck it. Armourbacks and Hoppers combed the streets below him, looking for rocks or bricks, which they carried to the tops of the sturdiest buildings. This activity went on for a whole quarter day until Stopmouth imagined some of the roofs must have been groaning under the extra weight.

  ‘What next?’ asked Rockface.

  Next wasn’t long in coming. For a while the air had been mostly empty. Now, hundreds of Flyers converged from every direction towards the piles of stones. Each one descended and took a rock in its claws before rising again. They were so numerous it seemed they would blot out the light of the Roof. They wheeled in the sky without any Flyer ever bumping into its companions. Then they sped in the direction of Man-Ways.

  The men watched in horror as humans fell off the walls under a rain of stone, knocked senseless or killed outright. Screams reached their ears a heartbeat later. Flyers who’d dropped their burdens returned to the stockpiles in search of more. One human had fallen from the wall into enemy territory. He lay there, moving his head from side to side, his legs obviously broken. Stopmouth winced in sympathy. A group of five Armourbacks made a run for the body, probably hoping to get there before slingers came back to the rampart above. All five disappeared into a pit-trap before they’d got halfway.

  ‘Spikes!’ said Rockface with a smile. ‘Your brother sure knows where to put them!�
��

  The bombardment continued for many heartbeats. In the midst of it, a Flyer landed on the roof of their building clutching a stone. Rockface grabbed a spear, but Stopmouth held the man’s arm. Rockface turned to him in anger, but relaxed almost immediately when he saw Stopmouth’s pleading face. He raised a hand in apology.

  The Flyer took off again, leaving a few shreds of dried skin behind it. Something glinted in its claws, and suddenly Stopmouth realized it hadn’t been a stone after all, but a small sphere of metal.

  His jaw dropped. The Flyer swooped low over a crowd of Armourbacks and Hoppers. ‘Attack!’ it screeched. Was it talking Human? ‘Attack! Or I take your children instead! Attack! Use the trees! Remember, human flesh belongs to Flyers alone!’

  The Armourbacks and Hopper fighters surged towards the human positions. Hoppers leaped over pits with ease; Armourbacks bridged them with tree trunks. When they reached the base of the walls, humans emerged to push rocks on top of them or fire slingshots. Flyers dived at the humans, but they too were shot at and several fell from the sky into Man-Ways.

  The enemy fell back in disarray until only a few angry Flyers remained hovering over the defenders. When the Armourbacks and Hoppers had reached a safe distance, the Flyer with the metal sphere in its claws swooped over them, screeching for more stones to be brought to the rooftops.

  ‘Try and watch where that one lands,’ Rockface whispered. But the Flyer didn’t seem to have any one perch. Once again Armourbacks and Hoppers gathered stones and stockpiled them on the roofs of houses. By the time they’d finished, Rooflight had faded. The Flyers gathered in flocks on the same buildings that held their missiles, but this time they stayed to rest and groom each other. It appeared that the attack was over for the moment.

  The two hunters witnessed an exchange of wounded between Armourbacks and Hoppers. The Hoppers killed the Armourback wounded one at a time, dismembering each corpse before pulling forward the next victim.

  The shelled beasts, on the other hand, preferred live food, and the high screams of Hoppers kept Stopmouth awake for some time after. He wondered what kind of effect it must be having on the relatives of those same Hoppers. Surely they must have wished for better allies.

  Stopmouth woke later with Rockface’s hand over his mouth. The big man smiled and whispered directly into his ear: ‘Let’s find that Flyer with the Talker, hey? The only guards they’ve posted are at their perimeters. They’ll never be expecting us!’

  Stopmouth’s eyes widened. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of when Rockface had asked to be part of the mission. They couldn’t risk it yet. They had to wait until the enemy was weaker. He shook his head violently. They didn’t even know which roof that Flyer was hiding on!

  ‘We could be stuck up here for days while the fighting goes on,’ said Rockface. ‘Besides, this should be easy, and if we don’t see the Flyer, we can always find an Armourback to knock on the back of the head, hey? What will my boy think when I tell him I hid while others were keeping him safe?’

  Rockface didn’t wait for a reply. Stopmouth sent a quick prayer to the ancestors, then followed despairingly through the maze of traps he himself had helped to set.

  This is madness! he thought. He should have stayed on the roof and left Rockface to risk his own neck, although if Rockface were seen coming out of this building, Stopmouth would be doomed in any case.

  On the ground floor they found two Hopper legs and one arm jutting out from under a pile of rocks. The beast had set off the trap on the stairs. Rockface pried a spear from its grasp. Its point had been made of human bone, and grips had been fashioned in the haft to fit a Hopper’s long fingers. Rockface grinned, happy as a child, making Stopmouth even more nervous.

  Immediately outside their doorway, two more of the furred beasts slept, entwined. They made Stopmouth think of Indrani for some reason. He winced when his companion stabbed each of them quickly in the eye and moved on. Death, but not for food, not for survival. It seemed strange and wasteful.

  A fire burned at the next intersection. More Hoppers slept here, a large crowd, and Stopmouth grabbed the big hunter’s shoulder before he could advance on them. Rockface looked hurt, as if the very idea he would do something to endanger the mission were absurd. Instead, he pointed at a nearby building and signalled ‘Go!’ Stopmouth didn’t understand. Rockface signalled again, then made for the doorway and straight up the stairs, leaving his young companion with no alternative but to follow.

  Stopmouth understood when they reached the roof. Three Flyers slept with heads curled under flaky wings. They were surrounded by the small stones they used as missiles and the shredded remains of a meal that might once have been one of Stopmouth’s neighbours. None of them had the Talker. Rockface pointed to one of the Flyers, which was sleeping off to one side, and then pointed to Stopmouth. The younger man, knowing he had no choice in what came next, nodded.

  He climbed carefully over the piles of rocks, heart pounding, worried they might skitter beneath his feet. He could see the creature’s blunt snout poking from under its wings. A faint, rhythmic buzz issued from it, which didn’t stop until he wrapped one hand over its face and another around its skinny neck. A quick twist, a snap, and the creature was no more. Rockface had also killed one of the beasts on his side, but he seemed strangely reluctant to finish the other. It had wakened before he could attack it, and now he stared into its big, dark eyes, frozen to the spot. Slowly the creature spread its wings.

  Stopmouth slipped his bone dagger from its sheath. He would get one throw. If the creature even screamed, they were both dead. He flung the dagger and watched it spin in the air. It seemed to take days to reach the target. When it did, the hilt and not the point struck home. The creature fell from the roof, stunned. Rockface shook himself, but otherwise wasted no time in grabbing up his weapons and running down the stairs to finish the Flyer off. It had fallen on the opposite side of the building from the door. So when they reached the ground floor, they sneaked round the corner of the house. And froze. An Armourback had found the Flyer and was shaking it as if to wake it. Rockface was about to charge, but Stopmouth pulled him back. He pointed to his sling repeatedly, until Rockface sighed and nodded.

  The shot was perfect. The Armourback dropped even as the Flyer’s wings began twitching. There was no stopping Rockface this time. The big hunter rushed forward and ended yet another life. But not for food.

  A thought came to Stopmouth, the type of thought that must have come to Wallbreaker every day. He took the fallen Armourback’s spear. On the way back to the hide, he jammed the weapon deep into the corpse of one of the two Hoppers that Rockface had killed outside their building. He left it there, jutting from the body where it couldn’t be missed.

  Another attack was well under way. Flyers bombarded defenders from a safe height, while below, lines of Armourbacks battered the shaky wall with tree trunks. Humans had never built anything before, certainly not in Stopmouth’s lifetime. So rocks quickly came loose and tumbled into the street. Some crashed into the attackers, but not enough to drive them back. Rockface cried out when he saw what was happening, his voice lost in the collapse of an entire section of the wall.

  Ancestors save us! thought Stopmouth.

  Tens of Hoppers leaped through the gap into a great cloud of dust. Armourbacks followed them, although many of these disappeared down another pit just inside the wall. They were quickly replaced.

  Stopmouth thought of Indrani and Wallbreaker and of what the enemy would do to them when they were caught. He saw Rockface biting his lips and clenching his hands and knew the big man was thinking about his own family: two wives and their children who lived by the strength of his arm. So when Rockface tried to run down into the street, the younger man was ready for it and tackled him around the knees so that both fell into a heap.

  ‘N-n-n-ot over yet! C-C-Centre Sssssquare!’

  Rockface threw him off, but didn’t run. Everyone in the Ways had been drilled to retreat to a new li
ne of defences at Centre Square when the wall fell. They’d be safe still. For a time.

  The chief’s original idea had been to make the enemy pay such a heavy price for the attack that they’d give up and choose some less fortified victims. But Stopmouth realized this was never going to happen: the Flyers seemed to be completely in control of the attacking forces, and their own losses were very light. What was to stop them simply choosing other allies after the Armourbacks and Hoppers had spent themselves? But, as usual, Wallbreaker had another plan, a darker one. For it to work, the humans would have to hold out at least a full day longer.

  The air carried the sounds of desperate struggles all the way to the hideout: the clashing of weapons; human and Hopper screams. Sometimes the men even heard the booming cries of Hairbeasts, and many of their Armourback victims stumbled back to camp with smashed and splintered shells. Once again Wallbreaker had been proven right. But the men saw more and more enemies filing into Man-Ways, until soon only their wounded remained outside. The stronger of these began dragging the weaker back towards their own lines.

  A few times Stopmouth saw Armourback young running on four stubby limbs to swarm over dying Hoppers. Other Hoppers chased them off, perhaps because they felt the victim might yet recover, or perhaps they were just angry with the Armourbacks and the torment they caused those they fed upon. Stopmouth couldn’t tell.

  ‘The waiting is killing me!’ said Rockface. ‘They could all be dead in there.’

  ‘No,’ said Stopmouth.

  Half a day passed and still the two men had no indication of how the battle might be going inside the perimeter. Every now and again, wounded enemies would stumble back through the wall carrying others of their kind. Often, too, it was a human corpse they brought. At one point a Hopper hopped by below with Speareye’s youngest child, Bonehammer, over its shoulder. The boy was pale but for a bright slash across his throat.

  A Flyer swooped over the Hopper and screeched at it until it dropped the boy and hopped back towards the battle. The Flyer flew off with the child in its claws.