Power Lines (19 page)

“He’s mad. How could he possibly survive in an arctic ocean? I don’t understand you, Bunny. How can you just sit there eating breakfast as if this was just another day, when your own uncle—”

“My own uncle has ways not possible for us,” she said equably.

“What’d he do? Call a tube whale for a ride?” Diego asked sarcastically.

Yana and Bunny exchanged glances.

“Something like that,” Bunny said, gnawing on her jerky meat.

“I’ve seen him do it,” Yana said, seeing that Diego was working himself up into quite a state. “You know he’s got a way with animals.”

“Yes, but he’s left Nanook here.”

Nanook gave Diego a long and measuring look and a soft soothing sound started deep in the track-cat’s belly, half purr, half reassurance.

“I just don’t understand you people!” Diego said, throwing his hands up in the air in resignation.

“You’re getting closer, though,” Bunny said. She smiled up at him and patted the rock beside her. “Sit and eat. We’ve a ways to go today. And you’ve got to finish your song before we get back to Harrison’s Fjord.”

“You’ve one to do, too, you know,” he snapped at her.

“Diego!” Yana snapped right back as she would to an insolent trooper.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and sat down and gnawed his anger away on his own strip of jerky.

Coaxtl did not entirely desert her youngling. The airship was similar to other machines she had expertly dodged before. They often held people who had proved dangerous to her kind. She followed it on swift paws, venturing perilously near to a human-place, and there, on a hillock overlooking the habitations, she found herself a place where she and the Home seemed as one, and watched and waited.

She did not see where the youngling went, but she saw when the airship flew into the sky again, carrying only one of the men with it.

A night passed, a day, and another night, and still Coaxtl waited, and she saw a land machine that could run very fast, and which she liked no better than the flying kind, scuttle toward a den. A man climbed out of it and she recognized him as the white-tailed one of the bad scent. He walked to a place where young ones were playing and there, so still that even Coaxtl’s searching eyes had not spotted her, sat the youngling, small and still as the tree against which she waited while the other human cubs frolicked in the snow.

After a time, the youngling rose and followed the white-tailed one to the land machine, which Coaxtl saw contained another man already and many objects. The machine sped out of the town, past the hillock where Coaxtl waited, and back out toward the plains. Coaxtl knew, without knowing how she knew, that the man was taking the youngling to that place from which she had escaped.

This seemed foolish to Coaxtl. Foolish of the white-tail to take the youngling back to where she obviously did not want to be, and foolish of the girl to go. It did not make sense to Coaxtl why the girl would return to the bad place she had fled. Therefore, since it did not make sense, it could not be true. Therefore, the child did not
wish
to go back. Therefore, the men did not have the youngling’s best interests in mind, and such interests were once more protected only by Coaxtl. Therefore, Coaxtl followed, keeping to cover when she could and traveling faster and more quietly than the cloud shadows she resembled.

Luzon headed in the direction of the Vale of Tears, right into the rising sun, which, despite the snow-glare goggles he wore, made driving very difficult

The girl had been very little help, being too ignorant to know the use of a map. She could simply point out the general direction she had been traveling when he had first seen her with the cat. He hoped she would be of more use later.

The child spoke not at all now, crouching in the pull-down jump seat behind him, her ragged-nailed fingers clutching the safety webbing as if her life depended on its protection. That annoyed Matthew, who considered himself an extremely capable driver. He fixed his gaze on the so-called track he had to follow, while Braddock kept his eyes glued on the compass when the terrain made it necessary to detour about obstacles even the sturdy snocle couldn’t run over. Only once did the girl make a sound: a sort of half-stifled cry of relief.

“What was that all about, little one?” he asked, trying to sound as benign as he could.

“Nnnunununn nothing, gracious sir,” she said, and he had the vague impression that she had to turn her head back to the front to answer him. He glanced in the mirror but could see nothing but snowy plains and patchily covered mountains behind them.

“It must have been something. You haven’t said a word since we left. Are you not happy in my company?”

“You are gracious, sir.”

“Then share your thoughts with me.”

“Oh, sir, I’m most definitely not worthy to share anything with anyone. It was only that I saw a pretty shadow . . .”

Matthew immediately knew that for a prevarication, as he could see nothing anywhere that might qualify as a “pretty shadow.” Because he didn’t wish to drive the timorous girl so far into her shell that she would be even less communicative than she was already, he let the matter drop.

It took four days by snocle to reach the Vale. Goat-dung rode in misery and, when she was allowed, in silence. The journey was much for her as sleep had been in the Vale—a respite, a brief time away, but always with the knowledge that she would wake within the Vale.

She was not traveling with Dr. Luzon because of his promises to free her, to adopt her. No, she knew better than to hope for such things, and besides, she was not the sort of person that anyone thought important enough to keep their promises to. She rode with him because she knew, as she had always known, with a dull, dreading certainty, that sooner or later she would wake up, end up, back in the Vale. When she had been with Coaxtl in her Home, she had for a time hoped to be free. With Coaxtl, who was free above all else, it had seemed reasonable to hope for freedom. As soon as she was back among people, even happy, laughing, squabbling people, people who were too ignorant to know that she did not deserve their pity, people who surely lied to pretend they were able to care about her, as soon as she was with them, she knew she was destined to return to the Vale.

And who better than Dr. Luzon, who was like and yet unlike the Shepherd Howling, to take her there? He did not strike her or try to touch her dirty secret places. He did not, in fact, seem interested in her at all. The only harm he did was to batter her ears constantly with questions about the Vale, about the Shepherd, about the Wisdoms and the Great Monster. He battered her about Coaxtl, too, but she would say nothing of the big cat, even to Dr. Luzon.

During the day, mile after mile of snow sped past the snocle’s windbubble—snowy hills, snowy plains, snowy valleys, snowy hills again. They sped past half-frozen rivers and slushy places they had to detour around, through forests and over land too high for forest to grow, past rabbit tracks and moose tracks and the tracks of horses. She wondered if these horses wore horns, like one she had glimpsed long ago. At first, it was exciting to travel over land so fast, but the excitement soon paled when she realized how quickly she was returning to the one place she did not want to be!

Nights were bad because that’s when the questions began, so that she had the Shepherd’s teachings ringing in her ears as she fell asleep, just as she always had in the Vale. Only one piece of knowledge made all bearable, something only
she
knew, that just behind the hill, or hunkered down in a nearby bush, or back in the trees, or watching from the rim of a valley, a lone clouded shape vigilantly followed and stood guard at night. And when she woke at night sweating in her new warm winter clothing, she would hear a purr inside her mind, from out of the darkness, and the song of Coaxtl would lull her to sleep again.

Sleep, youngling

Sleep and dream

Of when your eyes will open

Sleep, youngling

Sleep and dream

Of the day when your tail will be long

Sleep and dream

Sleep and dream

Safe in the Home you’ll be throbbed into slumber

Safe in the Home you’ll be crooned to all day

Sleep, youngling

Sleep and dream

At twilight we two will go hunting.

When this happened, sometimes the bad dreams did not return; sometimes she woke without fearing the daylight.

Such a night had passed before the day when they reached the Vale. Panic rose and choked off her breath as she looked down into the Vale, which now was muddy, but without water, and with a new coat of ice and snow.

She wanted to say “Stop!” to Dr. Luzon, but he would not have listened. Instead, he called Braddock to drive recklessly down into the Vale, whereupon they were immediately surrounded by the Faithful.

Most of them had never seen a snocle before. Some cried out in alarm, “The Great Monster!”

Others said, “No, an angel of the company.”

But when they saw her, people didn’t know what to think. Ascencion, whom she saw on the edge of the crowd, gave her a hard look and then turned, to appear a short time later with the Shepherd himself.

The Shepherd looked smaller, somehow, and rather ordinary, not larger than life as he usually appeared. His chin was smooth, to show his purity over other men, who must wear whiskers. His hair was cut short for the same reason, although the women were never ever to cut theirs unless they were being shamed for some wrong.

He did not, at first, look very friendly to Dr. Luzon, though he retained that air of peaceful detachment and complete calm he carried with him at all times when he wasn’t preaching—until he fell into a terrible rage. But now he spoke softly. “We are a solitary and forsaken people, living apart on the hideous monster that is the back of this world. Why have you disturbed us?”

Matthew Luzon said, a slight yearning entering his tone that Goat-dung had not heard there before, “Why, we have come to you for wisdom, of course, good Shepherd. I am Dr. Matthew Luzon, an investigator for the company, and this is my assistant, Braddock Makem. The child you know.”

“I know her,” the Shepherd said, his calmness turning cold as his eyes touched Goat-dung’s face. “She is a traitor who has run from the light. What business has a company investigator got with her or with me?”

“I am a special sort of investigator, Shepherd,” Matthew explained. “It is my job to purge the company’s holdings of lies that corrupt and mislead the people. Many on this world lie about its nature, seek to make us believe it is not merely a planet, but a sentient organism, whose natural events have intent and intelligence behind them. The girl told me of your teachings. I believe you know the truth and would learn it from you. I would have you testify before the company about this truth, as well.”

“The company needs
my
testimony?” the Shepherd asked. Goat-dung would have suspected he’d be delighted. After all, in his teachings, the company was the great force that had changed all of their lives and cast them into anguish at the mercy of the Great Monster. He seemed to be weighing his words when he answered, “This gives me much to ponder. I will do a teaching this evening. You may attend. But there is another matter between us. This girl . . .”

“She told me of your teachings, Shepherd. She’s impressed me very much, and I would like to retain her as my research assistant.”

“That is impossible. We are betrothed. Tonight will be our deferred wedding night. After the teaching, there will be a feast, and then she shall cleave unto me even as her mother did.”

Matthew turned to Goat-dung with a mockery of happy surprise on his face. “Why, Goat-dung! Congratulations.”

She hung her head.

Ascencion came forward and took her in charge and led her away to the makeshift tent-shed that was the newly rebuilt wedding hut, while her self-proclaimed rescuer ignored her plight to court her chief tormentor. As she shuffled along behind Ascencion, however, she heard the Shepherd tell Matthew, “After the wedding, she will no longer be Goat-dung. Everyone must address her, as befits my wife, by her new name, Dolores.”

Dolores: Full of woe. What could be more appropriate for her? Goat-dung thought. No, in her mind, she would think of herself as ‘Cita.

She allowed herself to be dressed in the ceremonial “Taking Gown,” the cloaklike gown that all of the chosen women wore when the Shepherd took them to wife. Once garbed, she was left alone to wait hopelessly for her wedding—until there were shouts from the far end of the Vale and in her mind she heard Coaxtl’s voice saying:

Another one comes! Fear him not but treat him well and care for his wounds. On his safety depends your own and mine, and that of all the people, for the Home loves this one well.

11

Yana, Diego, and Bunny were recovering from their often treacherous uphill climb back to the cave entrance at Harrison’s Fjord. Ardis told them they had missed Johnny Greene’s return, so they spent two more days anxiously waiting before his copter set down again. They ran out to meet him, ducking under the still-whirling rotors. He looked very tired, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

When the noise of the blades stopped, he said, “I know I’m late, but there was something I had to get done, pronto, schnell, fast. And I got news, too.” He hauled his backpack from under the pilot’s seat. “First let me have a hot bath and get eight hours.”

“Where’re you fitting a decent meal in?” Ardis asked, scowling at him.

“While I’m bathing, Ardis, love, and anything you have ready’ll suit me fine,” he said with his charismatic smile. “You’re back soon, or did you go?” he asked Yana as she, Diego, and Bunny started back down to the Sounik house. “Oh,” he added, noticing the sudden tears form in Bunny’s eyes, and he threw a comforting arm about her shoulders.

“My father,” Bunny said in a choked voice.

“Cave-in,” Yana added.

“My sympathies, Buneka,” Johnny said formally.

“It’s not as if I
knew
him as a father,” she said and gave a little shrug.

“Sean’s gone on, hoping to find traces of Aoifa,” Yana said.

Then Johnny grinned with pure mischief. “Marmion Algemeine took her folks and the five assistants Matthew made the mistake of leaving behind to the cave where the planet spoke to us after the volcano erupted.”

“What?”

He grinned again at the astonished chorus that comment elicited. “Yup.”

“And?” Diego demanded.

“Well, they were gone thirty hours . . .” Johnny said, and paused, his eyes twinkling as he deliberately lengthened the telling of his story. “And Seamus Rourke and Rick O’Shay said it was one of the nicer visitations they’ve ever had.”

“Yes, but what happened to Luzon’s guys? And Marmion? And Sally and . . .”

“Marmion took Millard and Sally. Faber was off doing some other errand,” Johnny supplied when Yana faltered. “Seamus swears there’s been very subtle changes in all of them. Can’t see it myself, but Seamus is more in tune with the planet’s ways than I am. Says their hearts are altered even if they don’t think their minds have been, and we’ll have to wait and see what happens. As far as they’re concerned, they spent only a half hour or so in a misty cavern and lost thirty working hours.” Johnny’s grin was as broad as it could get, his eyes almost lost in the folds of his cheeks. “I’ll have to trust him on this one. This is one time the planet’s too sly even for me.”

“Nothing at all noticeable? They didn’t have the dream?” Yana asked. The dream—actually, a sort of experiential emotional history of what the planet had undergone during its relatively short lifetime—that she had shared with Johnny, Sean, the Whittakers, and others shortly before they were rescued would have been quite a revelation for Matthew’s physically fit boyos. She would have liked to have heard that they’d got the full treatment so they’d
know
beyond a shadow of a doubt how the planet felt about what was being done to it.

“I wouldn’t worry, Yana,” Johnny said, and Bunny, still closely embraced, nodded wisely, too.

“I just hope so. Because . . .”

Johnny shook his head, released Bunny, and stopped. “Lemme get a bath, some food, and some sleep, and we’ll talk when my head’s clearer. Okay?”

So they relented and tried to find other things to do to occupy themselves while Johnny slept, so tired that Ardis swore he didn’t move arm or leg from the moment he lay down on the bed.

The curly-coats needed grooming, which took a good hour and a half while Nanook sunned himself on the terrace. That seemed to be the focal point for all the felines of Harrison’s Fjord. Even Shush the Survivor was there, the recipient of many rubbings and strokings and lickings.

Yana, easing back muscles for a moment as she was tackling the matted underbelly of her pony, wondered at the attentions Shush was receiving.

“Do they do that to every newcomer?” she asked Bunny.

Shush had put on a good deal of flesh in the scant week she’d been at the fjord and no longer looked like a rack of orange-skinned bones and pathetic eyes.

Bunny looked over and grinned. “Naw, they’re educating her. Nanook said something was necessary since the poor cat’d had no one to teach her how to pass on messages. Her mother got killed before she could, so she’s being brought up to speed with the rest of Clodagh’s cats. And—” Bunny frowned, because there were far more cats there than there should have been. “There must be messages coming in.” She put down the body brush she’d been vigorously using on her pony and walked over to Nanook.

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down beside him in a space made available by a resettlement of many orange bodies.

Liam Maloney is not pleased at what happened to Dinah
, Nanook told her. The cat sat perfectly still and stared into Bunny’s eyes through his own wide golden ones, the message rumbling into her mind as all of the more complicated messages did. The cat’s vocalizations were limited to the few short human terms within the range of its speech centers. These longer communications needed a bit more concentration, especially with a neophyte recipient such as Bunny or Yana Maddock. With Sean Shongili it was a different matter altogether. Talking to Sean was second nature.

Bunny sighed. “I knew Liam would be upset, but he
does
know she’s recovering and is being very well treated?”

Nanook licked a front paw briefly to indicate the affirmative.
He passes on that there is trouble at Deadhorse like what you found at McGee’s Pass. Trouble also waits at Wellington and Savoy.

Bunny thought about that. These were the four towns most remote from Kilcoole, and each of them had been reported by the cats as being in favor of mining. She couldn’t help but wonder if each of the towns had also had recent changes in their shanachies. She gave a convulsive shudder. If there were any more like Satok, the trouble was bigger than she’d ever conceived it could be. And if all four of those villages had had their caves coated in Petraseal . . . She shuddered again.

“What else?” she asked, sensing that Nanook was waiting for her to absorb that information.

Satok has been visiting these other villages. Satok has friends in all of them. The reports, by the way, are from track-cats and feral cats. No more like Shush live in those villages.

“The hell he has!”

“What’s the matter, Bunny?” Yana asked, startled by Bunny’s loud, angry outburst.

“But what can we do about it?” Bunny asked quickly, waving to Yana to keep on with what she was doing.

Nanook licked the tip of his tail thoughtfully.
Clodagh has been informed of all. There is more. When the pilot man goes south we must go with him.

“Sean’s not in danger, is he?”

Nanook blinked.
We go south too.
Then he stretched his long body out across the sunwarmed stone of the wall, and Bunny knew he had finished talking to her.

She went back to Darby and picked up where she left off.

“What was that all about?” Yana asked, leaning against Darby’s rump.

“Nanook says we’d better go south with Johnny.” She added hastily, “No, Nanook doesn’t think Sean’s in trouble, but he does think we should go south.”

Johnny Greene did, too.

“I’d have to go back even if I didn’t want to check up on the kid,” he said. “Whit wants me to keep an eye on Luzon. Actually, I was supposed to pick him up at Sierra Padre a couple of days ago.” Johnny grinned unrepentantly. “Had engine trouble.”

Bunny cocked an eyebrow at Johnny.

“Oh, I’ll have a
real
one for Dr. Luzon,” Johnny said, brushing aside her skeptical reaction. “But I had a sudden premonition, like, and since I’ve rarely had one that strong before that didn’t turn out that I should have listened more closely, this time I did. So I called in a few favors and sorted the problem out. Just in case.” Then he grinned with all the abandon of a boy who had just pulled the best practical joke in the world on his worst enemy and there’d be no way of assigning guilt to him.

“What
have
you done, Captain Greene?” Yana asked, resuming her military attitude.

“Nothing, Major sir, to bother your head about.” He laid a finger alongside his nose and winked at her. But for all the amusement in his eyes, his expression told her she’d get no more out of him and to let the matter be.

She nodded. “Something which will no doubt please me in days to come?”

“I devoutly hope so, considering the effort I’ve put into it. Now, since I’ve had my bath, food, sleep, and more food, let’s load up. Nanook wants you south, he gets you south. Ah, and you’re coming along with us, are you, Nanook?” The black and white track-cat had strolled up to the copter and was peering inside it. “He doesn’t much like flying, you know,” Johnny added. “Looking won’t change the flight process, pal.”

Nanook crawled under the second row of passenger seats, tucked his tail tight against his body, and laid his head on his paws. His whole attitude was one of patient resignation to an inevitable fate.

“Well, he’s stowed. Get yourselves aboard.” Johnny gestured for Bunny and Diego to sit over Nanook, while Yana took the other front seat. Then he handed around headphones so they could all communicate during the long journey south.

They knew something was wrong the moment Loncie came to the door.

“Luzon?” Johnny asked simply, and got a stream of Andean invective that was both colorful and inventive, the gist of it being that the son of a scabrous tarantula had stolen La Pobrecita. Pointed inquiry around Sierra Padre by the entire Ondelacy/Ghompas clan had brought forth the information that the vomitus spewings of an excrement-devouring long-extinct reptile which would eat its own mother without shame or serious second contemplation had taken the only snocle in all of Sierra Padre, Lhasa, or any place this side of Bogota, which was, as Juanito knew, a very long journey, especially at this uncertain time of year.

“When did all this happen?” Johnny asked quickly.

“The day after you left, Juanito. I thought she would be safe playing with my own
niños
! I was a fool! A fool!”

Johnny was too angry to say anything more. Mostly he was angry at himself. He should have known Luzon would stop at nothing. At least the man hadn’t hurt Loncie or one of her family in the kidnapping—not that they’d ever be able to prove it was a kidnapping. He nearly, but not quite, regretted the two days he had taken to make his private arrangements. One thing was certain: They’d have to move, and move fast, if they were to get the girl away again. This time he was leaving her nowhere near Luzon.

“Didn’t she scream? Or—or anything?” Bunny asked, pushing herself out from behind Johnny’s back.

“She went willingly, from what my children know of it,” Loncie said. “She feared the man, one could see that, but he was the sort she would follow because he is what she is used to, what she has been taught to love. Well, perhaps not love, but someone who acts as she expects people to act. She cannot imagine anything else and so allows him to return her.”

“She didn’t accept it, though, did she?” Bunny demanded, not just of Loncie but of all the adults and Diego. “She ran away, didn’t she? We’ve got to
help
her!”

Yana put her arm reassuringly around the girl’s shoulders. “That’s what we’re here to do, Rourke. All the lady is saying is that the poor kid had been so brainwashed, she rejected happiness because the concept was so unfamiliar that it was scary.”

“Ah!” And Lonciana nodded vigorously. “You have said it. But, come, enter. The evening meal is prepared and you must eat. You will never find this secret place from which she comes in the darkness. Also, you must tell us all that is happening to bring such a planet-defiling dung-sucking leech as this Luzon to our world, and we must sing together.”

“Our timing’s great, kids,” Yana said, trying to inject a little bravado into the currently demoralizing state of affairs. “We may have a song or two to pass along ourselves. Was anyone from this village at Bremport?”

Loncie’s eyes brimmed suddenly, and Yana understood the term “dolorous” as she never had before. The woman’s chins trembled and her mouth contorted with sudden grief. Yana would have touched her arm, but Pablo was there already, his small frame supporting his wife’s larger one like steel scaffolding.

“Our second son, Alejandro.”

To Yana’s count that made the last of those from Petaybee who had died in that incident. She heaved a sigh of relief and allowed herself to be escorted into the house.

“Hey, a guitar!” The exclamation burst from Diego’s lips and then he flushed, realizing that his excitement was not quite suitable following mention of those who died at Bremport.

“You like guitar?” Lonciana asked, her whole expression brightening.

“Do I like guitar? I’ve been
trying
to make one.” Diego reached into his backpack and brought out the neck he had been so patiently shaping.

“Qué hombre!”
Lonciana embraced him as if he were a long-lost friend. Diego, momentarily engulfed by her, grinned—more with acceptance of her enthusiasm than embarrassment.

They ate first, of course, and various young Ondelacy-Ghompases were sent to inform the entire village that there would be a special singing this evening: too late to make it a latchkay, but certainly there would be blurry and a bite or two to go down with it.

“I thought blurry was Clodagh’s specialty,” Yana commented as she washed up before dinner.

Johnny grinned. “The north doesn’t have a corner on the market of all good things, Yana. Had you come up from the ranks as I did, instead of training at an officer’s academy with so few Petaybean candidates, you’d have learned something of the joys of comparative Petaybean blurry drinking. Every time Loncie returned from leave, she used to bring back a stash: Old Armadillo is what we nicknamed her recipe, because it armors you so well against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. The spice she uses gives it a little more kick than the mulled-cider kinda thing you get up north.”