The Cyber Chronicles Book II: Death Zone (33 page)

"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 to 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, listening 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.

Outside, a
soft drizzle soaked the grass, falling from a dismal sky, and
Tassin retreated inside again. The snail was already moving, and he
walked back to examine the spot where they had spent the night. A
depression showed where the shell had fallen, and the deep paw
prints of huge wolves surrounded it. Four trenches had been dug in
the hard ground where the wolves had tried to tunnel under the
shell, searching for a way in. He marvelled at their strength, for
the holes were deep, the tough grass dug up in chunks. Catching up
with the snail, he studied its shell. Faint scoring marked its
edge, white lines where teeth and claws had scratched the hard
surface. The door, now on top of the tail, showed more damage. Deep
gouges had been bitten in it, strips of the layered structure hung
off, and scratches covered it. He patted the indigo beast, glad of
its protection.

Although he
could have used the cyber on the wolves while out in the open,
controlling fifteen animals would have been difficult. Those behind
him would not have been influenced as powerfully, and some
strong-minded beasts might have attacked. When the cyber had
radiated fear, it had not affected all of the wolves, but fear was
contagious, and their fellows had infected those that had escaped
the cyber's influence.