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Authors: Frank Herbert

The Green Brain (17 page)

BOOK: The Green Brain
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Why is she doing that?
he wondered. Then he remembered:
Oh, yes
—
the stings, the poisons.
“Won't we have some immunity from the last bout?” he asked and was surprised when his voice came out a whisper.
“Maybe,” she said. “Unless they hit us with something new.”
“I think I have most of them,” Chen-Lhu said. “Rhin, did you seal the hatch?”
“Yes.”
“I sprayed with the hand unit under the seats and dash.” Chen-Lhu reached down, put a hand under Joao's arm. “Here we go, Johnny. Into your seat, eh?”
“Yes.” Joao staggered forward, sank into the seat. His head felt as though it rested on slack rubber. “Are we in the current?” he gasped.
“We seem to be,” Chen-Lhu said.
Joao sat there panting. He could feel the energy pack like a distant army working inward against his weariness. Perspiration flooded his skin, but his mouth felt dry and hot. The windshield ahead of him was dappled with the orange and black spray and foam residue.
“They're still with us,” Chen-Lhu said. “Along the shore over there and some kind of a group overhead.”
Joao peered around him. Rhin had returned to her seat. She sat with a sprayrifle across her lap, her head thrown back, eyes closed. Chen-Lhu knelt on the gig-box and peered at the left-hand shore.
The interior of the cabin appeared to Joao to be filled with dappled gray-green shadows. His mind told him there must be other colors present, but he saw only the gray-green—even Chen-Lhu's skin … and Rhin's.
“Something's … wrong … with … color,” he whispered.
“Color aberration,” Chen-Lhu said. “That was one of the symptoms.”
Joao looked out a clear place in the right windows, saw through the trees a scattering of dun peaks and a gray-green sun low above them.
“Close your eyes, lean back and relax,” Rhin said.
Joao rolled his head on the seat back, saw that she had put aside her sprayrifle and was bending over him. She began massaging his forehead.
She spoke to Chen-Lhu: “His skin feels hot.”
Joao closed his eyes. Her hands felt so peaceful and cool. The blackness of utter fatigue hovered around him … and far off on his right leg he felt a drumbeat: the energy pack.
“Try to sleep,” Rhin whispered.
“Rhin, how do you feel?” Chen-Lhu asked.
“I put a pack on my leg during that first lull,” she
said. “I think it's the ACTH fractions—they seem to give immediate relief if you haven't been hit too hard.”
“And Johnny got much more than we did from our friends.”
“Out there? Of course he did.”
The word sounds were a distant fuzziness to Joao, but the meanings rang through with a startling clarity, and he found himself fascinated by voice overtones. Chen-Lhu's voice was loaded with concealment. Rhin's carried suppressed fear and genuine concern for himself.
Rhin gave his forehead one last soothing caress, sank back into her seat. She pushed her hair back, looked out to the west. Movement there, yes: white flutterings and things that were larger. She moved her gaze upward. Alto cirrus clouds hung in the distance above the trees. Sunset poured color through them as she watched and the clouds became waves as red as blood.
She averted her eyes, looked downstream.
The current swept the pod around a sickle-shaped bend and they drifted almost due north in a widening channel. Along the eastern shore the water flowed with mauve-tinted silver, metallic and luminous.
A deep booming of jungle doves sounded from the right bank—or was it doves. Rhin looked around her, feeling the hushed stillness.
The sun dipped behind distant peaks and the nightly patrol of bats flickered overhead, swooping and soaring. Noises of evening birds lifted, stilled and were replaced by night sounds—the far off coughing growl of a jaguar, rustlings and quiverings and a nearby splash.
And again that hushed stillness.
Something out there that everything in the jungle
fears
, Rhin thought.
An amber moon began to climb over them. The pod drifted down the moonpath like a giant dragonfly poised
on the water. A skeleton butterfly fluttered into view through the pale light, waved the filigree of its transparent wings on the pod's windshield, departed.
“They're keeping a close watch on us,” Chen-Lhu said.
Joao could feel warmth coursing upward from the energy pack as the ATP, the calcium and acetylcholine, the ACTH ractions diffused in his body. But a sensation of dizziness remained, as though he were many persons at once. He opened his eyes, looked out to the fuzzy spread of moonlit hills. He realized he actually saw this, but part of him felt as though it clung to the fabric ceiling of the cabin behind the canopy, crouching there, really. And the moon was an alien moon, like none he had ever known, its earth-lighted circle far too big, its melon-curve of sun reflection far too bright. It was a false moon on a painted backdrop and it made him feel small, dwindling away to a tiny spark lost in the infinity of the universe.
He pressed his eyes tightly closed, berating himself:
I mustn't think like that or I'll go crazy! God! What's wrong with me?
Joao felt that a pressure of silence filled the cabin. He strained to hear tiny sounds—Rhin's controlled breathing. Chen-Lhu clearing his throat.
Good and evil are man-made opposites: there is only
honor
. Joao heard the thought as words echoing in his mind and recognized them. Those were his father's words … his father, now dead and become a simulacrum to haunt him by standing beside the river.
Men anchor their lives at a station between good and evil
.
“You know, Rhin, this is a Marxian river,” Chen-Lhu said. “Everything in the universe flows like this river. Everything changes constantly from one form to another.
Dialectic. Nothing can stop this; nothing
should
stop this. Nothing's static, nothing ever twice the same.”
“Oh, shut up,” Rhin muttered.
“You western women,” Chen-Lhu said. “You don't understand dialectical reality.”
“Tell it to the bugs,” she said.
“How rich this land is,” Chen-Lhu murmured. “How very rich. Do you have any idea of how many of
my
people this land could support. With only the slightest alteration—clearings, terraces … In China, we've learned how to make such land support millions of people.”
Rhin sat up, stared across the seat back at Chen-Lhu. “How's that again?”
“These stupid Brazilians, they never learned how to use this land. But
my
people …”
“I see. Your people come in here and show them how, is that it?”
“It is a possibility,” Chen-Lhu said, and he thought:
Digest that for a bit, my dear Rhin. When you see how great the the prize, you will understand the price that might be paid.
“And what about the Brazilians—quite a few million of them—who're crowded into the cities and the farm plots of the Resettlement Plan while their Ecological Realignment is progressing?”
“They are becoming used to their present condition.”
“They can stand it only because they have hopes for something better!”
“Ah, no, my dear Rhin, you don't understand people very well. Governments can manipulate people to gain anything that's found necessary.”
“And what about the insects?” she asked. “What about the Great Crusade?”
Chen-Lhu shrugged. “We lived with them for thousands of years … before.”
“And the mutations, the new species?”
“Yes, the creations of your bandeirante friends—those we very likely will have to destroy.”
“I'm not so sure the bandeirantes created those … things out there,” she said. “I'm sure Joao had nothing to do with it.”
“Ah … then who did?”
“Perhaps the same people who don't want to admit their own Great Crusade's failure!”
Chen-Lhu put down anger, said, “I tell you it is not true.”
She looked down at Joao breathing so deeply, obviously asleep. Was it possible? No!
Chen-Lhu sat back, thinking:
Let her consider these things. Doubt is all I need and she will serve me most usefully, my lovely little tool. And Johnny Martinho
—
what a lovely scapegoat: trained in North America, an unprincipled tool of the imperialists! A man of no shame, who made love to one of my own people right in front of me. His fellows will believe such a man capable of anything!
A quiet smile moved Chen-Lhu's lips.
Rhin, looking into the rear of the cabin, could see only the harsh angular features of the IEO chief.
He's so strong,
she thought.
And I'm so tired.
She lowered her head onto Joao's lap like a child seeking comfort, burrowed her left hand behind his back. How feverishly warm he felt. Her burrowing hand encountered a bulky metallic shape in Joao's jacket. She explored the outline with her fingers, recognized it as a gun … a hand weapon.
Rhin withdrew her hand, sat up.
Why does he carry a weapon which he conceals from us?
Joao continued to breath deeply, feigning sleep. Chen-Lhu's words screamed through his mind, warning
him, urging him to action. But caution intervened.
Rhin stared downstream wondering … doubting. The pod floated down a lane of moon glitter. Cold glows like fireflies danced in the forest darkness on both sides. A feeling of corruption came to her from that darkness.
Joao, reflecting on Chen-Lhu's words, thought:
“Everything in the universe flows like a river.” Why do I hesitate? I could turn and kill the bastard … or force him to tell the truth about himself. What part does Rhin play in this? She sounded angry with him “Everything in the universe flows like a river.”
Introspection came hard to Joao, bringing dread, inner trembling that moved toward terror.
Those creatures out there, he thought, time is on their side. My life is like a river. I flow—moments, memories … nothing eternal, no absolutes.
He felt feverish, dizzy and his own heartbeat intruded on his awareness.
Like a river.
He's not going to warn anyone about the debacle in China. He has a plan … something in which he wants to use me.
The night wind had grown stronger and now it imparted an uneasy shifting motion to the pod, catching first one stubwing and then the other. As it came through the vent filters, a damp nutrient in the wind fed Joao's awareness. He moaned as though awakening, sat up.
Rhin touched his arm. “How are you?” There was concern in her voice, and something else Joao could not recognize. Withdrawal? Shame?
“I … so warm,” he whispered.
“Water,” she said, and lifted a canteen to his lips.
The water felt cool, although he knew it must be warm. Part of it ran down his jaw and he realized then
how weak he was in spite of the energy pack The effort of swallowing required a terrible energy drain.
I'm sick,
he thought.
I'm really sick … very sick.
He allowed his head to fall against the back of the seat, stared up through the canopy's transparent strip. The stars intruded on his awareness—sharp specks of light that stabbed through rushing clouds. The fitful wind-swayed motion of the pod sent stars and clouds tipping across his field of vision. The sensation began to make him feel nauseated, and he lowered his gaze, saw the flitting lights on the right shore.
“Travis,” he whispered.
“Heh?” And Chen-Lhu wondered how long Joao had been awake.
Was I fooled by his breathing? Did I say too much?
“Lights,” Joao said. “Over there … lights.”
“Oh. Those. They've been with us for quite awhile. Our friends out there are keeping track of us.”
“How wide's the river here?” Rhin asked.
“A hundred meters or so,” Chen-Lhu said.
“How can they see us?”
“How can they not in this moonlight?”
“Shouldn't I give them a shot just to …”
“Save the ammunition,” Chen-Lhu said. “After that mess today … well, we couldn't stand off another such day.”
“I hear something,” Rhin said. “Is it rapids?”
Joao pushed himself upright. The effort it required terrified him.
I couldn't handle the controls like this,
he thought
. And I doubt if Rhin or Travis know how.
BOOK: The Green Brain
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