Fish Tails (52 page)

When the babies finally slept, Xulai was introduced to other ­people whom Abasio had mentioned, and when she told them of Bertram's books, Arakny's eyes lit up.

“That's another reason we hurried. The weather should hold long enough for half a dozen of us and one wagon to get over the pass and down the far side as far as Gravysuck. The ­people in Tingawa decided it made more sense for someone to go over there from Artemisia than to send ­people all the way from Tingawa. We have a small, portable machine that Tingawa sent to us. All we need to do is put our little conveyer belt together, have someone stack books at one end and take them off at the other. Of course, if there are as many books as you say, it will take us well into winter, at least. Once we have everything in the library, we'll duplicate it a few times here, then Precious Wind says it needs to go to Tingawa to be duplicated there!” She beamed with excited pleasure. “We haven't had any new books in a generation or more!” Her face calmed, and she shook her head a few times, smiling at nothing.

Then she frowned, looked perplexed, turned to Xulai, and said, quite suddenly, “Xulai, did I simply not understand the core of this Griffin story, or have you not told us? You have not mentioned why the Sun-­wings creature took the children in the first place.”

And, of course, that was the core of the whole matter, which Kim spoke of, and Xulai spoke of, and the babies, wakened by all the noise, also spoke of when they heard Willum and Needly's names: “Illum, Illum, Illum. Eedy, Eedy, Eedy.”

“So your children are actually second-­generation sea-­children,” murmured Arakny, spoon poised, waiting for Gailai to either swallow or spit out the bit of potato she had been given. “Do you intimate that the first-­generation changers are not so attractive?”

“I think it would depend on your point of view,” said Xulai a little stiffly. “Having eight sinuous, sucker-­laden, leaden-­gray arms enables one to do remarkable things, really.”

“What would the Griffins change into?”

“I have no idea, nor do they. Whatever race of creatures did this first, that race needed an interim generation as a logical transition step. That race, humans, had to be able to recruit others. We could not travel overland if we had a purely aquatic shape nor could we demonstrate the change if we had a purely terrestrial one. We need both. The sea-­children should never need to travel on land, so they don't need the interim generation. I'm reasonably sure all that was planned in advance. Abasio and I were not given a choice.” She paused. Whatever she said next, Precious Wind would remember forever . . . She breathed deeply and went on: “ . . . but whatever it might have been, we would have chosen to live through it together. Having that choice was the important thing!

“The Griffins do not want their race to die out, any more than we do. They believe they too need to be offered a sea life and we understand why that longing among Griffins is even more urgent than ours! You and Precious Wind and I will be gone long before the waters have completely risen, we will not be personally faced with drowning or watching our children drown, but when the waters have covered everything, Sun-­wings and her child will probably both still be alive! They were designed to live, they have said, two thousand years or more! And not only Griffins want a sea-­form. As they left, I heard Coyote and Bear asking Abasio if Tingawa was doing anything for bears, anything for coyotes to make them seaworthy.”

Xulai rubbed her face tiredly, feeling the grime on her skin. It had been too long since Saltgosh's bathhouse. She no doubt smelled of travel and dust and sweat and horse. She stood up, shook herself. “It all makes me feel tired and inadequate. I think of the thousand years the Tingawans and the Sea King spent on creating my mother, Precious Wind. All those generations of breeding and testing and breeding, generation after generation, each human generation being only fifteen or sixteen years to sexual maturity. The Griffins take three centuries or more! There isn't time for enough generations to be born to do it the way it was done for us!”

“And they have threatened you?” Arakny commented.

“Yes. Sun-­wings says if we don't provide for them, too, they'll call on their sea-­living friends to kill every sea-­child we have! Has the Sea King ever said anything to my grandfather about man-­created sea monsters?”

“Kraken is the only sea-­monster name I know.”

Xulai shook her head. “Kraken is the Sea King himself. Our children are, in a sense, his children. His genetics are included in us, first generation, at least, and I can't believe he would destroy us or them.”

“It's not a question that we can solve, certainly,” said Arakny. “We will stay encamped here for a time, at least until Abasio returns. If some emergency arises that Wide Mountain Mother needs to know of, I'm sure Precious Wind can use her device to go back and inform her. She already knows about the sea-­children and is eager to see them.”

“We have that whole bunch of extra horses, too,” offered Kim.

And that, of course, involved the telling of still another story.

R
ATHER THAN RIDE,
A
BASIO CHOSE
to walk with Bear and Coyote. The trees were close together and the branches were low. It would be all too easy to be swept onto the ground if Blue or Rags misjudged the distance between their backs and the branches. When they came to stretches of ground that were open to the sky, he climbed onto Blue's back and let the horse carry him until they entered forest again. The sun rose and they went on until noon, then stopped for food and a brief nap. Coyote woke them at midafternoon. They went on, holding to their direction, stopping now and then to have a conversation with some other creature, usually invisible in the foliage or up a tree. A tribe of squirrels accompanied them for a long distance, turning them over to an owl as dusk approached. They followed her until it got too dark to see, then stopped and made a quick camp, eating quickly and lying down to sleep almost immediately afterward. Bear, Coyote, and the horses had decided to alternate a watch throughout the night.

“ 'Basio not gonna watch?” Coyote commented.

“Let 'im alone,” said Bear. “He's worryin' himself sick about these children they had with 'em. Prob'ly han't slept good for some time.”

Blue said softly, “Took you two days to get down where he was. Take us at least that to get back. You think the big one's alive?”

“We did half a day last night. We did almost a full today today. I think she's still alive. I think the woods'd know if she died.”

“Critters, you mean.”

“An' trees. They know quite a bit.”

“Trees do?”

“Sure. They just think real slow. Takes them a year to think one thought. Like bears do when it's winter and they're asleep. One thought's about all you can think, all winter.”

“What do trees think about?” asked Coyote.

“Everything,” murmured Bear. “Rivers, ponds, squirrels, birds, saplings, sun, wind. Everything there is. You ever notice how the whole world sometimes seems to . . . have one huge thought? As though every bird and every animal is all at once part of one huge word? Ever notice that?”

Coyote started to say no, but as he thought about it, there had been times. Certain times. There on the prairie, when he had been much younger, when the whole world had almost said something to him. If it took trees a year to think one thought, what did it take the world to come up with a word? And who would listen to it if the world spoke? Could be that mankind was too short-­lived to even hear the world's remarks. He sighed. Well, he had the last watch. When on watch, he preferred to move around, so he spent the last few hours of darkness listening to the world, guessing at all the things trees thought about . . . supposedly!

I
N THE CAMP OF THE
Artemisians, Xulai, sleeping in the wagon, was awakened by someone putting a hand on her shoulder. “Wha . . .”

“Xulai, shhh. It's Precious Wind. Arakny had four sentinels posted a good way down the road east. A ­couple of them just rode in. There's a troop of armed men, horsemen, and wagons coming slowly down the road, torchbearers out front. They came from the direction of Catland, and from what one of the sentinels managed to overhear, their queen is with them. Arakny thinks Tingawans—­you and Kim and I—­ought to stay well out of sight. Kim's just outside. What do you think we should do about your horses?”

“Have Kim help you put them in with yours. Drive the herd out of sight and put some good bowmen to guard it. From what Abasio has said about gangers, they would be likely to steal the entire herd, so they're better out of sight. This wagon's well hidden, I think.” She struggled to think what Abasio might have done. “Abasio didn't want to be seen by any gangers, but they wouldn't recognize me or the wagon. How many are in the group coming?”

“The sentinel didn't count them, but he says it's a good-­sized group. Could be as many as we are; could be more. All Arakny's ­people are armed and awake. She's got bowmen out in the darkness where they can't be seen but can see firelit targets.”

“Well, I'll get up and be ready to go into the woods with the babies. I need one helper for me—­that would be you—­and one for Kim. If things don't go well, if they find the wagon, it'll be empty except for the sea-­eggs . . . There aren't too many to carry, Precious Wind . . .”

“Xulai, that's not necessary. I have
ul xaolat
. You and Kim and I, and the babies, can all get into this wagon, and we can move it and us in an instant. It's far more sensible to do that than to go off into the woods.”

Xulai blinked, shook her head. Of course; she wasn't thinking clearly! “How far off is the troop? And where will you move us to?

“We have some time. They are still some miles off. We can move to the place we were going anyhow, to Artemisia, the plaza next to Wide Mountain Mother's place. I took particular care to put a series of sites in memory before we left there and on the way here.”

“Will you fetch Arakny? We need to tell her what we're doing.”

Arakny listened. Arakny should put the horses with those of her own troop to avoid their being stolen . . . The three Tingawans would use a Tingawan device to move the wagon, with its cargo of sea-­eggs to the plaza in Artemisia . . .

“A moment,” Arakny said, puzzled. “If you can move the wagon and yourselves, why not simply move it somewhere close by from which you can keep watch? Up the mountain road you just traveled, perhaps. Then, when the troop moves on, come back here. This large a group approaching at night may well be something you will need to know about immediately!”

“One must have a destination already in the device, or have a clear mental picture of the destination,” said Xulai. “I don't have a clear destination . . . wait. Of course I do. The place where we left the package to be picked up by Sun-­wings! If she didn't pick it up, I wanted to be able to return and get it! From there I could see the road down here, the whole straight stretch of it as it leaves the canyon. I need to be sure we could see this exact place . . .”

“And do you have a clear memory of the place you are now?”

“No. And it's too dark . . .” she murmured.

“No it isn't,” said Precious Wind. “Remember, the devices have been improved. Darkness is no impediment to the new ones.” She turned to Xulai. “How do we decide whether to come back here? If the troop moves on, toward us, where we are up on the mountain, or if they go back as they came . . . either way, we need to know if it's safe to return.”

Xulai said, “We also want to be able to see what's happening, so I think we should test the location. I don't know that Arakny's campsite is really visible from there. If it isn't clearly visible, we'll have to think of something else. This time's just a test, Arakny!”

“May I watch you go?”

“Stand away, over in the trees.”

The wagon door was open. There was no sound, no sense of movement. They were in total darkness, somewhere else. Kim made a gagging sound. Precious Wind said, “Lantern?”

Xulai called, “There's a little one by the bed. I should have lit it first.”

Precious Wind brought the tiny wick-­in-­oil lamp that burned as a night-­light over the bed. Xulai used it to light a larger one that was stored under the wagon seat. By its light they could see the road outside the open door. They got out and circled the wagon to look down. Far below, to their right, the campfires glimmered through the night. Farther out, slightly to the left, blocked occasionally by the ridge that ran out into the plain, they saw other, much smaller lights, torches, numerous torches, at a greater distance. Those approaching had turned at the fork in the road, the forested mound called the Devil's Ah behind them, backlit by moonlight.

They climbed back into the wagon and were, quite suddenly, back in the grove again. Across from them, Arakny held on to a tree, her mouth wide open.

Leaving the wagon, Xulai called, “It worked, and we're ready, Arakny.”

“It was startling,” she breathed. “I didn't believe it until it happened. What powers it?”

Precious Wind said, “Energy collectors up on the moon. They collect sun power and beam it to the few satellite receiving stations still circling the earth, as well as to a few stations on Earth itself. These devices receive that power. In Tingawa we had access to the power grid at the time of the Big Kill and we've gone on using it very carefully ever since. The power is a tiny fraction of what it once was, so the number of devices powered by it is limited.”

“Could the power be increased?”

“If we could get back up to the moon, yes. The machines need only to be cleaned and repaired—­all the parts and equipment are there. But there's no ship to take us there, we have no spacesuits—­they'd have to be manufactured—­and we have no recorded destination that would let us use
ul xaolat,
even if we were sure we had enough power to jump that far. I think it's been considered, but the power needed would be very great. Breaking the gravitational barrier, mostly. Besides which, we're not at all sure we
should
go. The lust for power was the downfall of previous ages. It might be so again. And what would some maniacal idiot do with it? With the waters rising, someone would probably try to boil all the water away, killing every living thing on Earth in the process.”