The Iron Breed (2 page)

It was when they were on their way down the ramp she caught sight of Jony. Not in another cage, but slipping along the floor, progressing by quick darts, a few feet forward at a time, and then freezing into immobility before he made another dash. Jony had indeed triggered his lock; he was free. The wonder and hope of that filled her for a long moment with an emotion close to joy.

* * *

Jony never understood how he knew things. It was as if answers just came into his head. But while Rutee had sensed that change was coming, he had known it for certain. This place (Rutee said it was a spaceship) was going away, up into the sky. And Rutee—the Big Ones were going to get rid of Rutee. Perhaps he could get free, reach her cage and open it from the outside. He had to!

Moments earlier when he had been sure of what was happening even as Rutee herself, he had balled up, his arms about his crooked knees, his chin resting on those same knees. Some time ago he had made his big discovery. Rutee had told him that he was not like the others, who did just what the Big Ones told them. Sometimes, if he tried very hard, he could make a Big One do just as he thought!

Now—now he must do that with the Big One who was standing in front of Rutee's cage. There was only one of the enemy, so he had a chance. Jony put to work all his power of concentration (which was such as would have astounded Rutee if she had known) into a single thought. Rutee—must—not—go—in—the—dump—place. Rutee—must—NOT—

He was startled out of that concentration by Rutee's call. However, after he had answered, his thoughts once more centered only on the Big One and Rutee's cage.

That was loose now, grasped in a single hand where the six digits were all small, boneless tentacles, yet with a power of grip his own five fingers could never possess. Jony thought—

The door to the dump place, the Big One had passed it! Jony unrolled in an instant, was out of his cage, clambering down the wire of the empty one below, making the last drop to the floor. Then he moved in small rushes from one hiding place he marked out ahead to the next. He reached the ramp to see the Big One with Rutee's cage stamping down ahead of him. Jony drew a deep breath and ran full speed. He flashed past the Big One, heading on into the open world beyond, expecting every moment that one of those great hands would reach from above, wrap its tentacles about him, take him prisoner again.

But, fear-ridden though he was, he turned when he was aware of cover over him. Throwing himself flat, he rolled back into the dim shadow of a towering bush. Once in that shadow, Jony drew several gasping breaths, hardly daring to believe he was still free. Then, resolutely, he wriggled forward to peer back at the only place he had ever known as a shelter.

He could see only a bit of it, the ramp, the hatch from which it sprang, then the rest towering up and up so it was hidden beyond his range of sight. The Big One had paused at the foot of the ramp. Jony sensed his bewilderment.

Once more Jony concentrated. The cage—put it over there.

Fiercely he aimed that thought at the enemy. There was still a feedback of confusion from the alien. However, he
was
moving forward away from the ramp, the cage in his hand.

Then the Big One stiffened, glancing back at the ramp as if he had been called by someone at its head. Jony shivered. There was no way of contacting the other now—he would return to the ship with Rutee and—

Only the alien did not. At least he did not take the cage. Instead he threw it from him, went pounding back up the ramp. Even as he reached the hatch, it began to close and the ramp was jerked in. The Big One was inside as the ship sealed itself.

Rutee—the cage—Jony scrambled from his hiding hole, fought his way through brush which lashed his bare body, leaving long, smarting scratches.

“Rutee!” He cried aloud. Then his voice was swallowed up in a thunderous rumble of sound, so terrible he crouched against the side of a huge tree, his hands flying to his ears to keep out that deafening explosion of noise. There was a wind beating in to follow. Jony tried to make himself even smaller. Could he have dug his way into the root-bound ground beneath him he would have gladly done so.

For moments he only endured; his fear, filling all his mind, sent his body into convulsive shivering. He whimpered.

The wind died and the sound was gone. He took his hands from his ears, gulped in air. Tears streaked his scratched face. Still he shivered. It was cold here. And dark—the gloom in the brush was thick as it had never been in the cage room which was all he could remember.

“Rutee?” her name was a hissed whisper. Somehow he could not force his dry lips to make that any louder. He wanted Rutee! He must find her!

Blundering blindly on, Jony tunneled away through brush, twice coming up against growth which resisted his passage. He staggered along beside it until he could find some way to get through. His head was whirling and he could not think; he only knew that he must find Rutee!

The cage had arched through the air when the alien had thrown it. Rutee had had a moment or two of panic. Then she was shaken and bruised as her prison landed on a wall of brush, its weight bearing down the vegetation that acted as a brake for its descent. The smashing fall she had expected was eased by so much. Perhaps that had saved her life—for now.

She lay on the floor, broken branches spearing at her through the heavy wire mesh, threatening her. Both hands were pressed to her belly. Pain—the child—it must be coming. She was trapped in here . . .

She had a few moments to endure that fresh terror before the world went mad with sound. Then came a blast of wind. Only because she was lying on her side facing in the right direction did she see the rise of the ship which had been her prison. And that only briefly, for with the fantastic speed of the alien ships it vanished.

Jony—she had seen him run down the ramp; he had reached the outer world. “Jony,” she whispered his name feebly, moaning as pain bore down upon her again relentlessly with an agony which filled the whole world for an endless moment.

When the thrust subsided Rutee moved, sat up. She crawled to the door of the cage, working her hands through the mesh to try to reach the latch, though she knew of old such action was useless. She was trapped as securely here as she had been in the lab. Only that stubborn will to live which had possessed her ever since her capture kept her fumbling away as best she could.

At length the pain hit again. She groveled and wept, hating herself for her own weakness. Jony—where was Jony? It was getting much darker; clouds were gathering. Now rain began, and the chill of those pelting drops set her shivering.

Summoning all her strength as the pain ebbed again, Rutee screamed aloud into the storm:

“Jony!”

Her only answer was another gust of cold rain beating in upon her. She was so cold . . . cold . . . Never before could she remember being so cold. There should be clothing to put on, heat—protection against this cold. There had been once—when, where? Rutee wept. Her head hurt when she tried to remember. She was cold and she hurt—she needed to get to where it was warm, she must because . . . because . . . She could not remember the reason for that either, as pain came again to fill every inch of her with torment.

But Jony had heard that scream, even through the fury of the storm. He began to think again, stopped just running mindlessly seeking without a guide. Purposefully he turned, breaking a way to the right, refusing to accept the brush and the soaking vegetation as a barrier.

Rutee was ahead, somewhere. He must find Rutee. He concentrated on that one thought with the same intensity of purpose which had made the Big One do what
he
wished and not throw Rutee into the dump place. Mud plastered him almost knee high and his shivering never stopped. This was the first time in his life he had ever been Outside. But he did not even look around him with faint curiosity. All his will was directed toward one end: finding Rutee. She needed him. The wave of her need was so strong that it was like a pain, though he could not have put it into words; he could only feel it.

Twice he stopped short, his hands flying to his head, as they had by instinct tried to close his ears to the blast of the ship's lifting. There were—thoughts—feelings . . . Only these had nothing to do with Rutee. They were as strange as those he sometimes touched when the Big Ones gathered. At first he crept into the brush again, almost sure that one of the enemy hunted. But there was a difference . . . No, no Big One had come after him; the ship was safely gone.

The next time, and the next, that Jony felt the touch which he could not explain, he doggedly refused to think about it. He must hold Rutee in his mind, or he would never find her in this wild place.

Jony staggered, his bruised hand out to a tree trunk in support.

Rutee! She was near and she hurt! She hurt so bad, Jony wanted to double up, as his nerves made instant sympathetic response. He had to wait for what seemed a long time, crying a little, his breath coming in harsh gasps which he felt but could not hear. Her pain had eased; he could go on.

He came to where even through the darkness of the storm he could see the bulk of the cage. It was not quite at ground level, being held up by a mass of crushed foliage and branches. Rutee was only a pale, small huddle within it. Jony knew he could open the lock—if he could reach it. Only that was well above his head, for as he neared the place he realized that the bottom of the cage itself was above him.

Somehow he would have to climb up over all the brush and the wire netting.

Twice he jumped, caught branches, teetered on rain-wet footing, and was spilled painfully, when they gave under his weight, slight as it was. But his determination never faltered; he only tried again. There was a deep, bleeding furrow down his leg where a splintered branch had gouged. And his arms and shoulders ached with the strain he put on them as he strove to pull up higher.

At last he worked his way up until he could catch at the wire. There he clung, speechless, caught in a spasm of the pain which radiated from Rutee, hanging on desperately because he must, until he dared move again. Too, as he climbed toward the locking device, his weight pulled the cage forward. That it might crash forward to crush him beneath it was not in Jony's thoughts now; he had only room for one thing: the belief that he must reach the lock—get Rutee out.

He heard her cries, and then his hand closed on the fastening, which she had been unable to touch. It went this way . . . One-handed, Jony held to his perch, flattened against the wire as the cage trembled. Yes—now
this
way!

Through the storm's sounds he could not hear the faint click of the released device. However, his weight against the door caused it to swing open and out. Jony dangled by one hand for a heart-thumping instant. Then his toes, his feet found anchorage on the wires; his two arms wrapped in and around it. Only the cage was tipping more and more in his direction.

Fear froze him where he was, aware at last that all might crash down. Rutee was moving, crawling to the very edge of the doorway on her hands and knees.

She had been only half-aware of Jony's coming. But, after her last pain had ebbed, she knew at once his danger. He had paid no attention to her orders to get down and away, perhaps he never even heard them. Now he clung as if plastered to the door, suspended over a dark drop she did not know the extent of. She had now, not only to escape herself, but perhaps save Jony.

Cautiously she lowered her clumsy body half over the edge of the tilting cage, groping with her legs, her feet, for some means of support. Twice she kicked against the branches, but these gave too easily to pressure; she dared not trust her weight to such. A third time her right foot scraped painfully along something horizontal and then thumped home, with a jar that brought an agonized moan from her, on a surface which did not slip away or sway as she dared exert more pressure.

She must move now. The cage was certainly going to slide forward, and, if she remained where she was, it might mean that both she and Jony would be crushed. There was a lull in the rising of the wind, though the rain was still steady. Her first attempt at speech was a hoarse croak, but she tried again.

“Move, Jony, to the left.” It was so hard to think. Her mind seemed all fuzzy as it had when the aliens had experimented with her that first time. And she dared not linger where she was to see if Jony heard and obeyed. Her weight and his, both at the forepart of the cage, was pulling it out and down.

Now she had both her feet on that firm support; and she allowed her grasp on the cage itself to loosen, as she dropped one hand and the other to the unseen sturdy point she had found. When her grip on that was sure, she dared to look up.

Jony moved! He had dropped down to the bottom edge of the cage door, was feeling for footholds below. She wondered if she could reach him, but was sure she could not. Not when, as her pains hit once more, she could only cling with a death-tight grip to her own hold.

The cage was going; Jony knew it. He allowed his hold on the wire to loosen and, as he slipped, grabbed desperately. A slime of mashed leaves made the handfuls he grasped slippery and treacherous. Finally he thudded into a mass which swayed but did not spill him over. The cage fell, and Jony had all he could do to keep his small hold from being torn away by the resulting flailing of the broken brush.

He was shaking so hard now, not only from the chill of the beating rain, but also from the narrow margin of his escape, that he dared not move. But he screamed as something closed tightly about his ankle.

Just before he kicked out wildly and disastrously to free himself he heard Rutee: “Jony!”

With a cry he lowered himself, felt her chill flesh against his as she held him tightly to her. They were closer than they had been for a long time. Close—and safe! He said her name over and over, burrowing his head against her shoulder.

But Rutee was not the same—she was hurt. Even as he clung to her, her body jerked and she cried out. He could again feel her pain.