FANTASTIC PLANET v2.0 (5 page)

During that
time, Terr was sending him a second tin and was already turning around to grab
another when a Traag's voice froze him to the spot.

'Caught you, ruffians!'

'Jump,'
shouted
Brave
, 'jump out of the window!'

Stricken,
Terr saw the angry Traag's huge stature coming towards him. As the giant's hand
stooped down towards the ground, the little Om jumped and ran to the window.
Brave held him under the armpits and sent him down to the furrow running
half a stadia below
.

Terr dived
into the dirty water, came to the surface, got swept along at high speed but
managed to look back and see
Brave
falling into the
water. He swam with all his strength against the current but was soon caught up
by his companion.

'I thought
he was going to catch you', said Terr.

'He did
catch me', Brave smiled through his beard, 'he caught me by the hair, but I bit
him and he let go.'

At the
entrance to the park where the free Oms nested, a rectangular shape could be seen
shining in the night.

It puzzled
Terr. Even though Brave told him the rectangle was a sign for Traags and that
their business was of no interest to the Oms, the young boy let his companion
go back alone and wandered cautiously near the Traags' entrance.

He soon
understood. The sign was saying:

Park closed
tomorrow - Deomisation.

Terr ran
through the shaded parts of the park as fast as his legs could carry him. When
he reached the bottom of the tree he had to rest a little to catch his breath
back before climbing.

He finally
jammed his fingers in the bark's ridges and rose amongst the branches.

When he
emerged at camp level he found his companions laughing and feasting in the
moonlight. 'Well Terr', asked Brave, 'has the entrance fee gone up?'

They all burst
out laughing, but Terr stood still, his arms dangling.

'The park
will be closed tomorrow', he said simply.

'What
dreadful news!' yelped Valiant in between more
laughter.

Terr was not
moving. He added: 'Closed for deomisation.'

The laughter
abated. Three children babbling in their nest were quietened down.

'What are
you saying?' enquired
Brave
, 'deomi...'

'Deomisation',
repeated Terr. 'It means they're going to try to eliminate all the Oms in the
park.'

He rested
his arm on the leader's hairy arm. 'Brave, one day you told me two other tribes
of free Oms lived in the park. They must be warned.'

Brave stood
on his branch and spat in the open. 'You're mad! This is a good chance to be
rid of them! The Red Bush gang has the best spot in the park. We'll take their
place once the alert is over. As for the others, they're nothing but a bunch of
disorganised stupid vagrants. It's because of them the Traags are de-om...
de-omising.'

'How do they
go about it?' asked Charcoal looking worried, 'by laying traps or what?' 'I
don't know.'

'Me neither,
I've never seen it before. I've never even heard of it: deo-mi-sation. Are you
sure it means... what you said it did?'

'Absolutely
sure', said Terr. '
The
best thing is to go and...'

Brave tapped
him on the head.

'Keep quiet!
I'm the leader here.'

He looked at
his group majestically and said:

'Here! First
we'll sleep a little to gather some strength. The night is only just setting
and we have plenty of time, but in order not to be caught out we'll post some
look-outs. I need one hand's worth.'

He
rose
his hand fingers stretched out.

'Who's had
enough rest to be a look-out?'

Several Oms
volunteered, including Terr. Brave counted them, closing his five fingers one
by one and Terr was included in his choice.

Brave told
the others to sit down and said:

'Charcoal
will station himself by the lake footpath, one hand of double hands of steps
from the tree. Valiant will stay in the gravel by the stream. Terr, you'll be
at the Red Bush fork.
You two, at the other end of the main
path.
I'll stay awake in the tree. Go! Whistle if anything happens. When
it's time to leave I'll whistle to call you to the foot of the tree. As for the
rest, get some sleep!'

The
look-outs climbed down the trunk. Once on the ground, Terr left the others and
made for the Red Bush fork where the path splits in two leading to the main
Traag entrance and to the Bush over a mossy rockery.

He climbed
on a pile of stones overlooking the fork and crouched in a gap in the rocks.

Listening to
the breeze's every sigh through the leaves, his eyes wide opened in the
twilight, he stayed still for a long time. But he was young, and soon his guard
duty irritated him.

He left his
hideout and went up the Red Bush path to widen his field of vision. He reached
a small grassy terrace which made an ideal lookout point. From there he could
see as far as one hundred and fifty steps. (Brave would have said three double
hands of double hands, had he been able to count without getting mixed up).

After what
seemed like a very long time, he lost patience again and turned around towards
the top of the rockery. His curiosity prompted him to go higher, the excuse
being he would be able to see further.

He followed
his instinct and heaved himself up amongst the climbing plants.

With some
effort he set foot on the top of the mound. Once there, half afraid, half
happy, he could sweep over the part of the park forbidden to his group: The Red
Bush territory.

Looking
hard, he could just about make it out, purple in the starlight and bristling
with sting like leaves. Then, forgetting all his fears and pushed by a vague
but powerful feeling, he hurtled down the other slope, ran through the meadow
and screamed:

'Oh! The Red
Bush gang! Beware you Oms! Tomorrow the Traags are going to deomise the park!'

He repeated
his call, turned around to run away and fell sprawling onto the ground, his
head full of the painful echoes from being bludgeoned.

A big black
Om was leaning over him sniggering, before throwing him over his shoulder like
a feather and running towards the bush.

Other
silhouettes came to meet them. Questions were coming from all sides.

'What did he
say?'

'Is he from
Brave's group?'

'I couldn't
understand a thing.'

'What shall
we do with him?'

'Tell the
Old Lady!'

Terr was
vaguely aware of being carried from hand to hand. He landed up brutally on a
heap of straw. A spurt of water in his face brought him back to his senses.

He sat up
shaking his head and found himself amongst unknown faces. In front of him was a
hunched shape. An old black Om lady with lean limbs and white frizzy hair was
sizing him up with little consideration. A flurry of hoarse questions rained
down:

'What were
you doing in our territory?'

'I... came
to warn you.'

'Of what?'

'Of tomorrow's deomising.
The Traags...'

'Well well!
And who told you to warn us?'

'Nobody.
It was my own personal idea.'

'A what idea?'

'Personal.
My own idea.'

'You talk
like a Traag, little one. Why is it you talk like one?'

'I've
already been told that. It's because I spent my childhood with Traags, and
because I learnt a little.'

'Yeah
right... Don't laugh, you lot, let him make himself clear. So you were coming
over to warn us of... of what?'

'The Traags
are about to deomise. They're going to kill
all the
park's Oms, or capture them, I'm not sure... It's written on the sign at the
park entrance.'

A big Om
with red hair interrupted him:

'Don't
listen to him, Old Lady, it's a trick from Brave's group to make us leave the
bush!'

'Shut up,
Redhead', said the old lady. 'You, little one, how do you know what's on the
sign?'

'I read it.
I learnt to read with the Traags, which is very useful.'

The old lady
scratched her head with both hands and then, bored with looking for lice, waved
to the black Om who'd knocked Terr out.

'Scratch me,
son.'

The black Om curry-combed vigorously her head with his nails.

'That's
enough', said the old lady. 'And now...'

She drew her
son over and whispered something in his ear. The black Om went away beneath an
archway of branches.

'Now that
you're informed', hazarded Terr, 'I wouldn't mind going back to Brave. I...'

'Shut up!'
said the old lady.

And as he
was insisting, the redhead Om slapped him sending him tumbling into the hay.

Infuriated,
Terr got up slowly with a threatening stare. All of a sudden, without any
warning, he jumped on his opponent and head-butted him in the stomach, causing
him to double up in pain. The others joined in. Blows rained on him and cut
short his victory, and as he lost consciousness he could feel his hand
clutching a throat, his teeth biting an arm.

***

When he
opened his eyes, he found himself bound hand and foot with metal
wire
. Facing him, the old Om lady was doubled up with
laughter.

'True
enough! Ha, true enough, you messed up three of my people, little one! Hey you
guys, ha ha, the little one caused you problems, isn't that so? He's young
still, but once he's grown in a few days time, he'll be quite a lad!'

Her voice
sounded hoarse, and her throat whistled as she coughed painfully. She seemed to
lose her breath but she gained control again, panting and wiping her eyes.

'Yeah', she
said several times, 'yeah, yeah.'

Then, turning to her son:

'You, give
me this.'

The black Om
gave her a large colourful piece of paper. She unfolded it before Terr and
winked.

'Here's a
label', she said. 'If you can read, tell me if what was in the tin was good to
eat.'

Terr kept
quiet, as he was still not over his trashing. The old lady laughed some more.

Look at
him', she said, 'just look at him! He's sulking, what a temper!'

And then
suddenly, more serious:

'Listen,
little one, I like you. I like guys like you, hard and all. You're young but
promising, for sure! So here, I'd rather believe you, regarding the ...
deomising.

But I want
to be sure, you understand, sure you're not telling lies. If you give me the
right answer about this label, I'll let you go... Understood? So tell me if
it's good to eat and what the label says. Prove to me you can read.'

'It's not
edible', Terr called out bluntly, 'it's Irsaan paste to colour Traags' clothes!
Green paste!'

The old lady
looked merrily around her.

'Good', she
said. 'Untie him!'

The Oms
grudgingly obeyed and Terr was freed.

'Don't go
right away', said the old lady as the teenager was rubbing his wrists.

She came up
to him and spoke into his nose:

'I'm letting
you go, young one, but if I realise I was wrong, beware. I'll always find you!
On the other hand, if you're not having us on you can always come to ask me
something if you need it.'

'I spoke the
truth,' declared Terr.

'Good, little one, good.
Now go... Not this way,
stupid! Redhead, guide him.'

Terr
followed the red haired Om in a maze of covered alleyways where some daylight
filtered through and which suddenly opened into the meadow. They split up
without a word.

Back at the
fork, he took up his look-out duty wondering if his group had heard the noise
caused by his adventure.

He soon
found out it was not the case. Two silhouettes he recognised as being Charcoal
and
Valiant
appeared at the bend of the path. To guide
them towards him, Terr let out a small whistle.

'What are
you doing?' asked Valiant. 'Didn't you hear Brave's signal? Everyone's waiting
for you at the foot of the tree.'

'But your
nose is bleeding', worried Charcoal. 'What's going on?'

Terr lied:

'I knocked
myself out falling in the rockery', he said. 'I've only just come to.'