Stardogs (33 page)

Even the Viscount was shaken. He let go of Jarian. “Here, Kadar. You’d better take one of these pills from this vial. Oooh! I think we’d all better!” There were eleven tiny violet tablets in the vial. So, he’d been anticipating Shari and the manservant as well. Despite the cramps Viscount Brettan made sure he held onto the vial with the two extra tablets in it

The antidote tablets might have stopped them dying, but the tablets barely lessened the violent stomach cramps, and the cataclysmic effect on the lower gut. All of the party fled into the surrounding rocks, leaving Jarian, their new overlord, to help himself to a generous drink and the best breakfast he’d seen for days. He enjoyed it in a leisurely fashion. Then he went to see why his new subjects had not returned.

Ectipain was supposed to give the first twinges to the extremities in about three hours. Whatever this batch had been corrupted with had certainly had a violently laxative and emetic effect. He found them all passed out in various places between the rocks amidst the evidence of this.

Shaking them had no noticeable effect, so Jarian went back to the makeshift camp and had another drink and second breakfast. Then he had a leisurely walk back down-valley and collected some more of the tiny tablets from one of his stashes. He had a bad moment when he couldn’t find the spot, but, on a second try, he located it. He counted out nine tablets. The antidote wouldn’t be needed again for three days and then not for 21 days. The antidote doses became further and further apart, which was very convenient. Eventually, after five years or so, the body developed a resistance to the original Ectipain. Well, when that came up he’d have to make a new plan.

He began walking back up the valley. He was so deep in cruel and pleasant daydreams that he failed to hear Juan’s delirious mumblings as he clambered past the huge rock the boy lay under. Instead Jarian went back to enjoy the peaceful sleep of the unjust.

It was late afternoon when his future subjects began dragging themselves bemusedly back into the makeshift camp. No one attempted to question his authority as he gave orders. It was very gratifying. Kadar showed great vigor in the whipping he gave to the Viscount, and was rewarded by an extra water-ration. The Leaguesman fawned at the new power in the land. The Viscount, reading the nature of both his assailant and Jarian, had screamed suitably. Actually he could and had borne worse punishment with gritted teeth and silence. But he knew stoicism would have caused worse aggression. So he screamed, and schemed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to beg.

Evening came and Jarian’s new subjects were allowed their water-ration, something their dehydrated bodies badly needed. Their lord and master sat in princely splendor and drank from his personal bottle, as he watched them share out the meagre food-ration he’d allowed them. He eyed the women. It had been a while… who should it be tonight? It was a pity his Aunt had managed to escape him. Rumor had it she’d never slept with a man, and he’d have enjoyed humiliating her. She’d never treated him as if he
were
a man. He’d like to have shown her. And killed that damn dog of hers.

Shari stirred. She was deliciously warm and comfortable. Except for one arm. It was trapped by something heavy and warm. She tried to move it. The something warm stirred against her. In her half-asleep state she found herself rubbing up against him… She sat up abruptly, realizing just where she was, and what she’d been doing. Otto, who had been rudely awakened and turfed from his warm nest, grumbled.

Deo rolled slightly, as if seeking her. His face, unguarded in what was either unconsciousness or a very deep sleep, looked so much younger than usual in the wan lumitube light. He looked terribly vulnerable and weak. She reached out a cautious hand. At least he felt warm now. If only there was something more she could do…? Perhaps in all those identical little bottles there would be something she could give him? He seemed to have an entire pharmacy with him. Maybe there would be something she recognized.

Cautiously she peeled away the blanket. Lifted his tunic. The first two bottles were labelled, the labels neatly printed in Deo’s minuscule hand. The third bottle had no label, but there was a piece of paper inside it. She opened it and fished it out. It was also in Deo’s hand, but the writing was a hasty scrawl. She struggled to make it out. Then, with infinite care, she replaced the paper, put the bottle back, and shuddered. With the other hand she pulled his tunic down, and the blanket over him.

How could he use such filth? She tore a strip of cloth from her damp skirt and cleaned the hand that had touched the paper with extreme care. Then she walked away and found a cranny in the cave wall to drop the scrap of cloth into. For a long time she sat in the darkness, sparing the lumitube, staring at nothing.

The cave had never been silent, with pseudobat noises in the distance and the drip-drip-drip from the roof. But now there was a new sound, a whirring sound. Otto edged against her leg and barked. Hastily she bent the lumitube and activated it.

The air was streaming with flickering fur-trailing bat-shapes, ducking past the low roof of the drip-pool and then beating their way upward against the near wall. There they and the roof were lost in the darkness.

For a minute Shari panicked. The last time the shovelnosed creatures had fled, the geyser had erupted. But after a moment she realized that this was no wild and desperate flight. Instead it had a hum-drum Monday-morning commute feel about it. She shushed Otto, who had made several hopeful predatory leaps into the air, now that he could see what made the noise.

So, up that wall was the way out. She walked across to it, splashing into the shallow pool. It was steep, but not unclimbable. She looked back. Deo was sitting up, looking into the light.

Be wary about rooting out dead plants. It may just have been winter.

The Upanishad of the Gardener-Dewa Celine.

The living we can part ourselves from. But our dead are always with us.

From the Liturgy for the passage of all souls: Memorium for the dead.

The capabilities of the mind of the rat are generally overestimated by the animals’ adherents. Yes, they are capable of a degree of feral sharpness, but, generally speaking, the thinking of fat and pampered long-domesticated creatures like Rat doesn’t go much beyond dinner, warmth and comfort, and occasional problems with constipation. Now Rat was having to deal with his master, who had always provided, being unresponsive to numerous suggestive nosings. Juan just moaned and muttered. Eventually Rat had had to gnaw his own way into the zippered pocket full of cirrith-seed. The high oil content could at least be broken down to provide some water. The pocket made a reasonable nest, even if he wished Juan would stop tossing and turning so much.

It was the afternoon of the next day before Juan returned briefly to semi-lucidity: Crown-induced semi-lucidity: Denaari-Juan only, left in confused control of an alien body that would not, could not, fly. He was not aided by Human-Juan, who was still muttering and wrestling in the confused realms of adolescent reality, which is bad enough without added delirium. Despite this, the body of the boy with a crown emerged from its hole and began crawling upstream. Parts of his mind wandered further afield and would occasionally try to make his body attempt null g-ball or low-g acrobatics, and address long diatribes to his father…

Rat accepted movement as part of his norm. He didn’t know that the tiny transmitter-chip which was part of every station-pet’s life was causing all sorts of upset with the Sector civil defense biocomputer unit. When the micro-transmitter started to move yet again, now heading into security zone, the biocomputer stopped vacillating and opened ancient transmission relays.

The cave-wall cliff was climbable. It was persuading Deo that he wanted to climb it that was difficult. At least he seemed more lucid and coherent now that he had slept. His recollection even of yesterday was hazy, but at least he seemed prepared to deal with today. He seemed prepared to deal with it in a typical Deo fashion: suspiciously and cautiously. If she had not been so hurt and angered by what she’d found in his collection of drugs and potions, if she had not been so anxious to get out into the sunlight again, she would have been glad that he was no longer so robotic. As it was, it was a pain that he wouldn’t just take orders. Eventually she had to resort to entering his confused world to tell him what to do. It seemed she was the Dewa again. She was not sure who she had sent him to kill this time.

Then there was Otto. He was not designed for rock-climbing. And he was not very keen on being stowed in Deo’s makeshift pack, which Shari had appropriated. The man showed no signs of being aware that he’d carried it before. Then the lumitube had begun to die. She had to ask Deo for another one. This he produced with a faint look of puzzlement, as if his hands knew what to do without his mind understanding it. At length, after a last drink and making sure that all the water-bottles were full, they climbed.

Shari realised how lucky they’d been to fall into the mass of the bat-creatures. It was a long way, especially with a heavy pack and a small dog that kept threatening to wriggle out of it. She was afraid that the pseudobats would come back. The fall without the furry creatures as flying cushions would probably kill them. But they reached the top, and then managed the short scramble to the niche into the main passage. Although all she wanted to do was run for the outside, Shari paused for long enough to mark the little cave-crack she’d come out of. Then, pushing Deo occasionally, and with Otto scampering eagerly ahead, she hastened up the tunnel and towards the outside. The cave was breathing in now, warm, dry late afternoon air. Soon they were out in the canyon. Never had daylight looked so beautiful.

Otto barked excitedly and Shari couldn’t restrain a yell of pure delight. Deo looked alarmed and confused. They began walking up the canyon in the deep late afternoon shadows. The rest of the party must be far ahead by now. She wondered, briefly, if they’d have left her pack.