Chalker, Jack L. - Well of Souls 02 (25 page)

The creature held a piece of cardboard or something similar in its left tentacles, then lifted the board in front of it, angling it so they could read. The message was in standard Confederation plain talk, bearing out Trelig's suspicion that the denizens of this world were far from ignorant of them or their nature. It said, in block-printed crayon:

YOU MAY REMOVE YOUR SUITS. THE AIR IS

BREATHABLE. WHEN YOU HAVE FINISHED,

FOLLOW ME TO BRIEFING.

Trelig accepted the guarantee and pressed the releases to flip back his helmet bubble. He took a breath, and the air was good. Satisfied, he switched off the backpack. The suit collapsed, seemed to grow and melt into a puddle of synthetic cloth at his feet. He helped Zinder do the same. Yulin started to, but suddenly fell horribly nauseous; blood suddenly clogged in his throat, and pain wracked him everywhere.

He collapsed and passed out.

Teliagin

In the early afternoon of the third day, the one thing Mavra Chang feared more than the rain happened.

They ran out of woods.

Not much, of course. This was pastoral country, and the woods picked up about a kilometer away. But here was a broad plain, grassy and lumpy, and crisscrossed by several of the dirt roads, on which there was a great deal of traffic. They watched from the edges of the clearing as great cyclopses went back and forth, to and fro, some alone, some carrying large sheepskin bags, some pulling large wooden carts with hand-carved wooden wheels, laden with all sorts of things.

"Look on the bright side," Mavra told them. "At least we know now we haven't been going in circles."

Renard nodded. "Yes, we're a long ways from where we landed. But are we going the right way?"

Mavra shrugged. What was the wrong way? The one that got you caught. In that case, this might definitely be the wrong way.

"We could follow the woods to the left for a while," she suggested. "Maybe it connects someplace down that road. We've crossed roads before."

"Don't look like it," Renard observed. He was talking more normally today, but his sentences were shorter and less complex, and he wasn't even thinking in those big words any more.

Mavra Chang sighed. "Then we'll have to stay here until nightfall. We sure can't cross now with all those creatures there." She didn't like that; although the hypno conditioning, renewed the night before, kept the two unaware of their condition, the mental deterioration was becoming evident in Renard and more so in Nikki. Precious hours would mean that much more lost.

"I don't wanna get eaten," Nikki Zinder proclaimed. "You remember that one we saw? Ate that sheep in three big gulps."

Mavra remembered. They would stay hidden until after nightfall, when the traffic thinned out. She had no idea whether any of her lethal defenses she'd bragged so much to Renard about would work on those behemoths— and she had no desire to try. She wasn't as much of a mouthful as that sheep had been.

They settled down, and all started to doze on and off. They were tired and worn; the sponge effect was also body-wide, although more apparent in the thought processes. The other two tired more quickly, and their coordination was shot. As for Mavra, she'd gotten very little sleep since before landing on New Pompeii, and fatigue was starting to tell on her. Will power could only sustain so far, and she knew it, even though she wouldn't admit that to herself. She slept.

Renard awoke first. He'd only been slightly asleep anyway, thanks to Mavra's rest-inducing hypno of the past nights. He crawled to the edge of the plain. Still a lot of traffic, maybe not as much as before, but it would be sure capture to go out there now.

He crawled back. Mavra was so sound asleep she didn't hear him, but Nikki stirred, opened her eyes, and looked at him.

"Hi!" she whispered.

"Shhh!" he cautioned, putting his finger to his lips. He ambled over to her.

She looked up at him with slightly dulled large brown eyes. "Do you think we can croth it?" she asked. The lisp had appeared as time had worn on.

"Yes, later on," he soothed, and she shifted next to him.

"Renard?"

"Yes, Nikki?"

"I'm thscared."

"We all are," he told her honestly. "We just have to keep going."

"Not her," the girl replied, pointing to Mavra. "I don't think anything could thscare her."

"She's just learned to live with fear," he soothed. "She knows how to be scared without letting it get to her. You have to do that, too, Nikki."

She shook her head. "Ith's more than that. I don' wanna die, sure, but— if I gotta— I . . ." She trailed off, searching for the words.

He didn't understand, and said so. She was quiet for a moment, then finally said, "Rennie? Will you make love to me?"

"Huh?" The very idea startled him.

"I want to have it, do it, juth once. Juth in cathe." There were almost tears in her eyes, and a pleading voice. "I don' wanna die without doin' it juth onth."

He looked over at the sleeping Mavra Chang, then down at the pathetic girl next to him, and wondered how, in the face of certain death, you could still get into bad situations. He thought about it for a while, trying to make up his mind. Finally, he decided. Why not? he thought. What's the harm? And it was one thing, at least, he could do for somebody else that he couldn't foul up.

* * *

Mavra Chang awoke with a start and looked around. It was dark— she'd been sleeping for quite some time. Suddenly, she had a headache and various other aches and pains from sleeping so hard and in one position. Solid sleep.

She looked around, spotted Renard and Nikki reclining, backs against a broad tree. She was asleep, and he was half-asleep, his arm around the plump girl. Mavra could see in a moment what had happened; there was little way to clean up here. It bothered her, and it bothered her that it bothered her. Possibly because she could not understand it.

She turned and crept up to the edge of the clearing. Not much traffic or signs of traffic now. Occasionally a cart would go by, two torches blazing from holders in its side grotesquely half-illuminating the strange creature that pulled it; but clearly traffic was at a minimum. She doubted the cyclopses had good night vision; they seemed mostly inactive after sunset, active from first light.

She crept back to the pair, who hadn't moved, and gently woke them up. Nikki seemed to be calmer, which was good, but worse mentally. Mavra wondered if the effect accelerated despite what Renard had told her, or if it was just more noticeable when you started to get down below the normal level.

"We're about ready to go across," she told them. "We'll go as far as we can tonight to try and make up the lost time."

"We gon' run 'croth?" Nikki asked, sounding almost eager.

"No, Nikki, not run," she replied patiently and slowly. "We will walk across, slowly and nicely."

"But th' big thing'll thee uth!" the girl protested.

"There aren't many of them," Mavra told her. "And if one comes near, we'll just lie down and be quiet and wait for it to go away."

Renard looked at Nikki and patted her hand. She liked that, and snuggled up a little to him. "Let's go now, Nikki," he said gently.

They got up and made their way to the edge of the plains. No torches or carts in sight except two dim lights far off in the distance. Probably the same one that Mavra had seen, going away, she guessed.

"Okay, let's all walk now, nice and easy," she told them, taking Nikki's right hand in her left and Renard's left hand in her right. They started out.

The crossing was almost too easy. The cloud cover had remained, making the surroundings even blacker, and there was literally nobody on the roads. They crossed the clearing in about twenty minutes with no problems, and Mavra wished that all her troubles and worries were so easily laid to rest.

But then the rain started. Not a bad rain, or a big storm, but a steady rain that was warm but uncomfortable. It quickly turned the ground into mud and soaked them through. Nikki seemed to enjoy it, but it was miserable going, and the trees didn't offer much protection.

Mavra Chang cursed. The mud was becoming deeper and more treacherous, and they couldn't keep going much longer in this kind of mess. More lost time, with time running out on her.

Then the wind started to pick up, chilling their soaked bodies to the bone, forcing her hand. She found some shelter, a grove of particularly tall, broad trees growing close together that afforded a measure of dryness, and they settled down and huddled together for all the good it did.

* * *

The next morning dawned brighter and dryer, but only because the clouds had thinned and it had stopped raining on them. They all looked a mess, mud-caked, with hair tangled and mud-clumped.

Renard was disturbed. "I can't seem to think so good," he told her with obvious distress. "I can't seem to think of things any more. Why is that, Mavra?"

She felt a consuming pity for the man, but she couldn't answer his question. Nikki, of course, was even worse. She'd found a mud-puddle and was happily playing in it, splashing around and making some sort of mud cakes. She looked up as they approached.

"Hi!" she called out. She reached down and picked up a mud pie. "Thee what I made?"

Mavra sighed and thought fast. A glance at the sun had told her that they'd been moving roughly east, but how far and at what angle?

She thought fast about the pair she now had on her hands. Renard was still capable of handling himself, but for how much longer? As for Nikki— she was sinking almost before Mavra Chang's eyes. Something had to be done to keep them under control.

She put them both under quickly, finding she had to choose her words carefully so they could follow her.

"Nikki, you don't remember anything about who you are except that your name is Nikki. Understand?"

"Uh huh," the girl acknowledged.

"Now, you're a very little girl, and I am your mommy. You love your mommy and always do what she says, don't you?"

"Uh huh," the girl agreed.

She turned to Renard.

"Now, Renard, you don't remember anything about who you are or who we are, only that your name is Renard. Okay?"

"All right," he agreed.

"You are Renard. You are five years old and you are my son. I am your mommy, and you love your mommy and always do what she tells you. Understand?"

His tone became softer, more childlike. "Yes, Mommy," he replied.

"Good," she approved. "Now, Nikki is your sister. She is younger than you and you have to help her. Understand? You love your sister and have to help her."

"Yes, Mommy," he responded.

She turned back to Nikki. "Nikki, Renard is your big brother and you love him very much. You will let him help you if you have trouble."

"Uh huh," she responded, very childlike.

Mavra was as satisfied as she could be. She'd done this regression thing before, although under very different circumstances. She had once convinced an art-museum director that he was her son, and he'd opened the place and shut off the alarm for her. Even helped her cart stuff out. He thought he was helping his mommy move.

She would have to remember, though, that she was Mommy to two very big but definite children from now on, and act the part.

She brought them out of it. "Come on, children. We have to go now," she said softly.

Nikki looked upset. "Ah, p'eathe, Mommy! Can't we pway some more?"

"Not now," she scolded gently. "We have to go. Come on, both of you give Mommy your hands."

They went along for some time. It was difficult at times to control them as children, despite the hypnoed instructions. Kids skipped and played and generally acted up, and it took some stern acting and will power to keep them pretty much in line.

Mavra began to worry that she was wrong after all, that she would never see any mountains and a sign of an end to this strange place. Yet, the terrain was becoming hillier; the rocks were larger, and mostly igneous. They might be foothills.

And, suddenly, there they were. Not terribly tall mountains, or grand ones, but wonderful to see all the same. Gently folded, like great wrinkles in the earth, they rose up about eight hundred meters from where they stood. As with most folded mountains, though, there were frequent breaks, where streams and ice had eroded passes through the barrier. The lowest and closest of these would still require a climb of about three hundred meters, but the slope was gentle and there were many rocky outcrops for rest or shelter. They might make it over before dark if they were lucky, she thought.

There were a lot of sheep on the hillsides. She didn't like that; in this place, where there were grazing sheep there was usually one or more giant one-eyed shepherds. She debated waiting until darkness, but she feared any more time lost. She looked carefully around, wishing she could trust them to stay put while she did a better reconnoitering job— but she dared not put them to sleep. She might not have any control later.

She decided to chance it. Taking their hands and cautioning them to be quiet, they started as quickly as possible across the open area to the first protective outcropping a few thousand meters ahead.