Thousandstar (#4 of the Cluster series) (34 page)

The Squam slithered to the side. Two rats attacked her, biting at her torso. They could not hurt her, but she was evidently annoyed; she picked one up in each pincer and crushed them so that their juices squirted, and hurled them bleeding into the mass of their kind. She was stronger now;
she
would survive the rats. But she could not pass the sewer alone, so she too was doomed.

Sickh tapped the wall with a pincer. She slithered farther and tapped again. What was she doing? 'She's sounding it for the thinnest section, for fractures,' Jessica explained. The Erb weakened it; if impact at one place will break the rest of the way through—'

Satisfied, the Squam did just that. She tapped harder, until she was smashing all three pincers together at the wall. Bang-bang-bang! Heem felt the small vibration of it, building.

There was a larger shudder as something fractured. 'She's doing it!' Jessica cried, with the same excitement Heem had had before. 'She's found the fracture point! Now if only she can exploit it.'

Sickh slithered out into the center of the chamber. Then she moved rapidly toward the wall, hurling her armored body at it. This time the impact was much greater. Again the wall shuddered, and chips of rock fell down. But there was no breakthrough. 'If only we had a tractor, as before,' Jessica said.

The rats were becoming alarmed by the vibration. They were evidently very sensitive to collapses of stone, as they were to flooding of passages. They scuttled wildly about the chamber. The Squam paused.

'She can't get up proper speed with those rats in the way!' Jessica said. 'We'll have to clear them out. Let's see what we can do, Heem.' She formed a picture of the creatures, and imagined little concentric-ring targets on each body. 'Target practice—final exam.'

Heem oriented himself, gathered his fluids, and fired an amazing fusillade of needles in one salvo. Jessica had spotted seven of the rats, precisely, and he needed all of his uncanny new accuracy now. Any he missed would get in the way again while Sickh was moving. Long distance, he scored on six rats. The seventh was only wounded; quickly Heem reoriented, and this time he finished it. This was not only his best effort to date, it was the most accurate multiple needling he had ever tasted of any of his kind performing. He was a super-HydrO!

'Now don't get a swelled head,' Jessica cautioned him. 'If you could jet through that rock wall,
then
you'd have something to crow about.'

He was getting used to her irrelevant vernacular. But she was right; he owed his expertise to her vision, not to any merit of his own.

The way was clear. Sickh charged across, smashed into the wall, and fractured it. A section of the wall fell in. There was an abrupt if small change in flavor. The rats retreated, frightened. 'That's the taste of light!' Jessica cried. 'Striking the dust, drying the water.
She's broken through!'

But now the Squam fell to the floor, inert. The collision had damaged her. She moved one pincer weakly, then folded herself together and lay still.

'So close, so close!' Jessica moaned. 'Either of them, just a little more—and we who retain our strength can not exert it here. The irony!'

"Light!" Heem sprayed. "The Erb—she needs light. If we can get her in it, she might recover."

He tried. The rats were no menace for the moment. He devoted his full attention to the task, shoving part of himself under Windflower's body, then jetting as if for an uphill roll. His advancing surface shoved her forward before she slipped beneath him.

'Try it again, Heem!' Jessica cried. 'Get her into that beam of light!'

Heem shoved again, and again, each time moving her a small distance. She was not firm, like a rock; she was irregular and bendable, hard to get any purchase on. The job was tediously slow. But at last they came up beside the Squam, and Windflower's stem slid into the light.

The Erb stirred. Her leaves moved as if blown by wind; the taste-ambience shifted. She curved around, seeking that light, absorbing it.

The rats came back, acclimatizing. They were, after all, visual creatures; they made flashes to see. The more forceful radiation from outside startled but did not actually hurt them. 'Keep them off,' Jessica said. 'We've got to give Windflower time to recover her strength. Maybe she has reserves she can draw on, when she sees light at the end of the tunnel.'

"She can see it," Heem said, though he suspected Jessica had not meant precisely what he had understood. He kept the rats off, still practicing his marksmanship. But his own strength was waning. His constant effort had heated his body; his hot needles were effective, but he needed to cool or he would start to destroy his own tissues. His reservoir of fluid was diminishing; he was using up the free hydrogen in this region faster than the slow air circulation replaced it, and every needle used yet more. Some fresh air was coming in through the crack in the wall, but not enough. He was moving into a hydrogen-deprivation stage, and it was uncomfortable.

'Don't give up, Heem!' Jessica urged. 'Windflower is recovering. Just keep the rats clear a little longer—' And she washed him a kiss of encouragement.

Heem kept them off a lot longer. He was losing consciousness, focusing only on the immediate menace. A rat would charge, he would needle it, it would fall. Another would charge, be needled, and fall. But the range of his needles was diminishing, and the semicircle of rats was constricting. If the stupid creatures ever realized how vulnerable he was now to a mass charge—

But every time Heem sank into a misery of inattention, Jessica roused him by her pleading, threats of screaming, and murmurs of confidence and affection. After a while these things became merged in his mind like the composite taste of a crowd, but still he suffered himself to be roused. He was vulnerable not only to the rats, but also to the encouragements and threats of the alien, and had to perform.

The Erb drew herself slowly to her roots. She was standing again! She formed her wedge and put it to the crack in the rock. She applied her torque—and suddenly the rock was wedged apart, sundered, blasted. Dust flew, and large fragments of stone dropped to the floor, half burying the Squam. A huge, strong beam of starlight came in, bathing them all in its warmth.

Heem collapsed. Light made little difference to him, but the warmth of it brought his already overheated system to the verge of ruin. He had done what he could, and could do no more. He had to sag down and take in hydrogen. The Erb, at least, was free.

But Windflower did not go. She enlarged the hole, then climbed awkwardly over the rubble toward the interior of the chamber. She found Sickh—for of course the Erb could see, now—inserted her drill in the pile, and hurled out the rocks. The rats scattered yet again as the shower of material crushed down on them. What power there was in an Erb in light!

Sickh stirred. She had been inert for some time, and was now reviving. She slithered over the rocks toward Heem, toward the hole in the wall. Two would escape.

The Squam clamped a pincer on Heem's tender flesh and hauled. It hurt, but it was good; she was drawing him toward the hole.

Toward—what?

'Idiot!' Jessica berated him. 'Your crazed mind is confusing the hole with the Hole. Relax!'

Heem relaxed. This was not demise, it was rescue. Up and out they moved, into the beautiful taste and fresh hydrogen of living day. Three had escaped!

 

 

 

Chapter 8:

Site of Hope

 

 

The rich, cool air soon restored Heem, and the intense light revived Windflower to full tumescence. The two relaxed, regaining strength, while Sickh returned to the chamber to feed on the dead rats. Windflower stretched out a root and touched Heem's flesh in a gesture of trust: she knew how he had protected her from the rats, and was signaling her gratitude. Natural enemies had become friends.

In due course the three of them resumed their trek toward the Ancient site. How much time had they gained or lost? Were they now among the leaders, or was the competition over?

They did not have far to go. There was a valley beyond the ridge, then a low hill. The fern-foliage had abated; only low brush hampered progress. From the height of the hill, which they all climbed slowly, the Erb began flashing. Without the translator, Heem was only vaguely aware of the pattern of radiation reflected across his body, and assimilated no meaning.

Then Windflower moved laboriously in the interspecies language. DESTINATION—NEAR, she signaled. OTHERS NEAR.

Clear enough. The truce was over; they were at the verge of the site.

Heem wished he could bid proper farewell to his companions, but this would be time-consuming in sign language and superfluous. They all knew how they related. He set off toward the site at a swift roll.

The ground became rougher in the valley, forcing him to move cautiously, so he lacked sufficient velocity to crest the next rise. But it did not matter. A Competition Authority checkline was there. As he crossed that spread flavor, a machine spray challenged him: "Identify competitor."

"Heem of Highfalls, HydrO host. Jess of Etamin, transferee," he sprayed. Now it would come: how far back were they?

An inspection beam played over him. "No physical apparatus may be conveyed across this line. Proceed, contestant; your legitimacy is verified. You are fifth to cross."

Heem rolled on. Fifth! Right where he had to be! Their excursion under the ridge had indeed gained them time, despite their problems and delays. Now they had a fighting chance to win. He tasted entities behind him, and knew that Sickh the Squam had arrived at the checkline, and would be the sixth to cross, with Windflower the Erb not far behind. They were in competition with each other now, but Heem preferred to have them challenging him, rather than strangers.

'That's for sure,' Jessica agreed warmly. 'They're good people.'

The hill continued, and soon the Squam overhauled him, making a swerve to indicate greeting, and moved on ahead. 'We are now sixth,' Jessica said. 'But there must be another slope to roll down, soon.'

Heem checked the map, but it lacked detail within the checkline circle. Soon, however, he verified it: a nice, clear, even slope. He tasted the ambiance of a body of water, overlaid by a faint flavor of alien metal. The Ancient site—across a lake.

Jessica conjured the map again, and was similarly frustrated. 'They are being deliberately obscure,' she complained. 'They're not giving us any hints what to expect here. But I can make a reasonable guess or two. I think the site is on an island in a small lake, so that every contestant has to overcome the challenge of water. Seems to me this whole region is a depression, a concavity—it may all be part of the site. A great circular excavation, with the entrance at the center. The Ancients did things like that; most of their known sites are pretty massive. There's some coding in this circle on the map I can't quite make out—'

"It indicates a structure," Heem sprayed as his rolling gathered momentum. Now he tasted the ambience of two other entities ahead, besides Sickh: an Erb and a HydrO. He would not be able to pass the HydrO, who could roll as well as he could, but was gaining on the Erb. "A building, and we must achieve its apex first, to win the competition."

He rolled past Sickh, giving her a swerve of greeting. With a lake at the base, he could afford to build up speed. Water was less bruising than land.

'How will Sickh cross?' Jessica inquired, worried.

"Fool female! We're racing against her now! We do not want her to cross."

'I suppose. But it seems unfair, since she can't traverse deep water.'

Heem rolled by the Erb and splashed into the lake. It was shallow, hardly covering him. "Squams can ford this, holding their air tubes above," he sprayed. And dropped into a deep hole. "Of course, they will have to negotiate it with a certain care, to avoid problems."

'I think she can swim a little, but she's too solid to float, so she's got to have shallow water within range. I guess she'll make it."

This concern for a rival struck Heem as almost humorous, yet it was a facet of Jessica's personality that he found he liked. She was a gentler creature than he, despite her wild Solarian background; she had fewer hurts and savageries.

'I suppose that's right,' she agreed. 'You could use an ameliorating influence, and I could use an aggressive influence. We make a good team—' She broke off, and her hurt washed through him.

"What did I think this time?" Heem demanded. "I did not attempt to sadden you."

'Not your fault, Heem,' she said. 'It's that very soon now it will be all over, one way or another. Win or lose, we shall part—and I don't want to part.' And her emotion flooded his being as thoroughly as the lake flooded his environment. 'Oh, God, I don't! I want to be with you forever!'

And it could not be. The grief saturated him, and he knew it was not hers alone. She was a difficult, alien, and disembodied female, totally unlike anything he had imagined before she joined him, and the perceptions and emotions she brought were strange almost beyond comprehension. But necessity had forced his comprehension of vision, and the emotion had followed. He wanted her too, for the moment and the eternity. And could not have her.

At least they could win the competition, and promote his welfare and hers, though these things were no longer as important as they had been. They would retain their memories of their mutual experience, and that was a partial good.

'Yes,' she agreed. 'Or was that my own thought?'

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

'I don't know.'

Thus, inconclusively, their reflection ended. Heem was now forging out the other side of the lake. He tasted the other HydrO more clearly now. A female, rolling up from the opposite side of the island. It was Swoon of Sweetswamp!

'Old home week,' Jessica murmured. 'She may not be much on riddles, but she certainly rolls a good race.'

However, several creatures were already at the structure: two Erbs, a Squam, and a HydrO. The four who had preceded him into the final circle.