Whatever Gods May Be (40 page)

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Authors: George P. Saunders

BOOK: Whatever Gods May Be
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"What is it, girl?" Zolan cooed to the Birdog.  The Birdog began to snarl, and her snake-like tail nearly brained Zolan as it looped overhead in an agitated motion.  Rocks crumbled beyond, as if some great weight were lumbering forward with no attempt at concealment.  Zolan raised himself to his shaky legs, fighting back dizziness as he used the Birddog’s back as a brace.  He was very close to the crater edge, and this did not escape the Birddog’s attention despite her distraction with what seemed to be approaching them.  Gently, she folded her long tail around Zolan's waist, then pulled him away from the cliff.  Zolan was startled, but his focus returned quickly to the increasing disturbment ahead.

The buzzing noise that followed made Zolan yelp.  It was not painful so much as immensely irritating and he cursed under his breath.  The Birdog ceased her growls, and also shook her head in bewilderment.

Then:

VALRY/

Zolan jumped at the mention of the name.  For a moment, he couldn't figure out where it had come from.

"No," he snapped irritably, "this is not Valry."

The buzzing continued for at least a minute, while both Zolan and the Birdog remained fixed to their positions near the crater edge.  They could still see nothing before them.

The buzzing voice persisted.

WHERE IS VALRY?

Zolan squinted into the darkness, trying to identify his inquisitor.  Only black returned his stare.

"I.  .  uh, don't know," he said feebly, raising both hands to his ears, "I wish I did."

Again, another uncomfortable minute of nagging buzzing continued.

WHY SEARCH YOU FOR THELERICK?

Telepathy, Zolan guessed an instant later; an appreciably advanced form at that.  The words he was hearing in his mind were surprisingly those of his own world.  In a matter of seconds, he realized, his brain had been tapped for the language most familiar to him.  The unseen communicator had obligingly learned the alphabet and sounds to the idiom, then pieced together its quickly acquired gift for his listeners benefit.  It was an impressive piece of mental interchange, Zolan thought, if not downright tresspasatory and impolite.  Zolan's initial fear, however, was immediately transformed into pure curiosity.

He considered the question put to him then answered slowly.  "I was told to find Thalick.  Valry asked me to do this.  I have important news to tell him."

Obviously, the invisible interrogator need not conduct this line of questioning; if he, or it, had succeeded in sponging out an entire language from him in such a short period of time, nothing further in Zolan's mind could be hidden.  Was the voice playing with him? Zolan wondered.  Or was it simply exercising some ritual politeness?

YOUR NAME

It was not a question so much as a statement.

"Zolan Rzzdik."

IS VALRY...DEAD?      

Zolan's shoulders slumped and he shook his head slowly.  There was clear sadness in his voice.

"I don't know.  Not yet, I think.  I'm not sure," he answered aloud.  He then added very softly, "But soon."

The buzzing noise abruptly became less annoying; either that, or Zolan was simply just getting accustomed to it.  The Birdog next to him was panting tiredly again, but no longer seemed agitated.  Presumably, this was a good sign.  Perhaps, this voice of darkness was not an immediate danger.

Zolan stepped forward, still holding on to the Birdog to balance his weakened footing.

TAKE ME TO VALRY,the voice spoke suddenly.

"I don't know where she is," Zolan replied.

YOU SPEAK TO HER.  YOU SEE HER.  SHOW ME           

Zolan shrugged helplessly.

YOU SEND MESSAGE.  YOU SEND ROCK.  THELERICK FOLLOW -- THELERICK FIND YOU    

The buzzing grew more agitated, pounding itself into Zolan's brain.

"What message? I...don't know what you're saying.  I don't know anything about a rock.  Please..."

YOU SPEAK TO HER.  YOU KNOW 

"I've ...you don't understand.  She only communicates to me-" Zolan paused, wondering how he was possibly going to describe Valry's mode of contact. 
Excuse me, but she speaks to me through my dreams.
  He had to confess that this explanation would have been difficult for anyone or anything to swallow.

"Valry," he began carefully, "comes to me in a manner similar to yours.  Her mind connects with mine, but nothing more.  I don't know how to find her, or where she is."

The buzzing softened once again, as if in consideration of this answer.  Then, a most unusual question delivered itself to Zolan's brain.

YOU LOVE VALRY, RZZDIK?          

Zolan remained motionless.  Under the circumstances, the question did not seem inappropriate or surprising at all.  "Yes."

Silence.

Then:

THELRICK LOVE VALRY, TOO       

Suddenly, Zolan's stomach began to growl with a twinge of excitement.  He was barely aware of his own dizziness and weakness in the wake of this new anticipation.

Once again, the crunch of gravel and rock echoed into the night.  Zolan's heart jumped, as he realized movement was taking place directly in front of him.  He could see no more than two feet ahead, and this coupled with the crescendoing cracking of ground made both Birdog and Zolan again uncomfortable.

A dark, black figure stopped no more than inches from where Zolan was standing.  He could sense that it was enormous, even though no delineation of form could be adduced.  The Birdog whimpered again, and Zolan found a large ear in one hand.

THELERICK HERE, the voice announced at last.

Neither Thalick, the Birdog or Zolan made a sound for several minutes.  Actually, Zolan was the only one severely disadvantaged; his eyes alone could not clearly focus on the company he was suddenly keeping.  The Birdog, however, relaxed immediately, and in fact began to bark happily at the dark shadow ahead.  As for Thalick, he had no difficulty in scanning the helpless man in front of him.

"Thalick," Zolan repeated quietly.  "Valry said you would find me."

When Thalick made no reply, Zolan pressed on, remembering Valry's instructions.

"I must show you something, Thalick.  Down there," Zolan said pointing, turning slowly away from the giant shadow looming before him and walking towards the crater edge.

Thalick followed silently, stopping so close to Zolan that the man could now tell clearly that Valry's friend was not even remotely human.  Zolan felt jittery, but his voice remained steady and calm.

"Do you see?" he said, pointing at the army of red lighted eyes in the crater mouth.  "Valry says that they are coming for her people.  And they're coming for you.  With the Resistor.  He's their leader."

Thalick hissed to himself in concealed anguish.  He could estimate roughly fifteen thousand Redeyes and a much lesser number of Jumpers were now mobbed in the crater interior.  The pack of vampires stretched out to both horizons, and their forward direction was unmistakable.

They were heading for the desert, no doubt to link up with the much larger army of vampires pushing ahead for the tribe's valley.  All of the Stinger's previous plans had not provided for such a vastly superior force of the enemy.  Ordinarily, he should have sensed this surprise army creeping up from the rear much earlier; his probe system had not yet failed him several days back when he had detected the Redeye city near the sea -- of which this massive force most surely belonged.  Today, he had not even suspected, much less felt, this unseen peril from the west.  It was a devastating oversight -- and in the end might well prove fatal for his cherished tribe.

WHAT MORE VALRY SAY?

"Nothing.  Only that I must find you and deliver my message," Zolan said, not quite sure how he was feeling about the alien hisses and chirps coming from the enormous thing next to him.

There was no time to consider the fascinating question as to why or how Valry had contacted the alien human.  Thalick had instantly determined that Zolan was indeed from the falling craft he had witnessed earlier.  However, he was simultaneously elated and distraught at having learned Valry was possibly still alive, while the tribe to which she belonged and loved was about to be eaten alive.  Action was needed immediately, and Thalick could not afford a second of much-loved Thelerick philosophizing and speculation.

WE GO NOW, RZZDIK.  Thalick moved away from the cliff and regarded Zolan impatiently.

"We can't walk, Thalick.  Something is weakening us; a sickness of some kind," Zolan tried to explain, feeling out of breath and bone-crushing weary.  Besides, he was not so comfortable in Thalick's company as to want to go anywhere with him it at the moment.

Suddenly, Zolan found himself surrounded by an enormous, stone-like mass.  The claw held him at the waist, firmly yet with amazing gentleness.  Zolan nevertheless fought to free himself from its hold.

REMAIN STILL, Thalick chided urgently.

Now Zolan was afraid.  His eyes could now make out some detail of the creature he was so close to, and what he saw, momentarily made him want to consider an alliance with the red eyed demons in the crater.

"What are you going to do?" he asked helplessly, too weak to struggle further in Thalick's grasp.

His answer came in the form of a momentary flash of pain to his back.  Almost instantly, though, the agony subsided and was replaced by a stimulating sensation running the course of his body.  His exhaustion abruptly vanished.  He not only felt stronger, but he felt mildly tipsy, as if he had just finished a rather substantial cocktail.  He turned around to glance at the Birdog who yelped as Thalick offered the same treatment to her.  He followed the gigantic tail as it replaced itself overhead.

Instead of releasing his hold on Zolan, Thalick swung the man up above his head and dumped him on his back.  Zolan sprawled awkwardly against the base of Thalick's tail and cursed.

"Where are we going?" Zolan demanded, though not too irritably.  He was feeling better with every passing second.

Thalick paused for a long time before answering.

HOME

FORTY-THREE

 

 

They were the largest human beings Zolan had ever seen.  Even the renowned monkey-people of his own world did not reach such heights as these men.  Towering over him, the shaggy group seemed docile enough as they in turn offered a different unidentifiable, yet sweet smelling delicacy his way.  The Birdog was perfectly content lying near him to chew on what appeared to be an enormous bone of some sort.  Squatting, he reached down and filled his hand with the water from the stream, though all the time keeping his eyes on the five or six curious savages looming overhead.

Zolan drank his fill then devoured the slabs of beef the people had given him.  It was badly burned, and filled with grit, but it was the best thing at the moment that Zolan had ever tasted.  Still reeling from the Stinger venom, his appetite had become voracious, and it wasn't until fifteen minutes later that he finished completely satisfied.

The generous brutes around him had not spoken a word.  They grunted and gibbered a little, but seemed not the least bit interested in communicating with Zolan.  They stared at him, and he in turn stared back.  After several minutes, he found himself looking forward to the giant Thalick's return.  At least here was some kind of conversation, albeit limited.

Half an hour earlier, Thalick had descended into the torch lit valley.  The Stinger then disappeared, leaving Zolan to confront those of his own species on this world for the very first time.  He had not needed to question Thalick on the tribe; it was instantly clear to him that these were Valry's people who were facing an immensely threatening future.

He had been surprised.  Valry herself was such an advanced organism, capable of the kinds of powers that Zolan was accustomed to seeing back among his own, distant race of men.  Had she simply been some kind of freak, born to this civilization of prehistoric gibberers by mistake? It was certainly possible, Zolan was forced to admit; he was himself a product of a defective genetic trend.  Valry's case was of a somewhat different nature inasmuch as she was the superior link to pervasive inferiority.

The Birdog chomped happily next to his feet, while he now stood up and faced his giant audience.  He could see their eyes held the unmistakable sadness of illness; apparently, they too, were suffering from the same contagion which Thalick had so effectively wiped clean of his own system.

The giants moved back several feet as Zolan stepped toward them.  Despite their great size, they were like children; innocent and frightened of this new intruder to their territory.  A larger crowd began to gather, and soon Zolan was the subject of almost fifty pairs of eyes.  Only the crunching and authoritative approach of Thalick dispersed the wondrous group.

The humans, Zolan noticed, responded almost indifferently to the enormous scorpion.  Thalick for his part barely acknowledged their presence, though he did hiss continuously; presumably, Zolan reasoned, to inform those near him that he was coming their way, and to move.  Now, where the glow of burning wood filled the valley with light and wavered ghostlike against the stark canyons all around him, Zolan could make out every detail of this strange specimen Valry had referred to as Thalick.

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