The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) (28 page)

Legends. They are stories about the distant past that have passed by word of mouth through countless generations of humans who, perhaps, were not satisfied with the Rainbow’s explanations. They are stories of what
might
have happened, based on known facts, and told as though they
did
happen.
 

Such a story is the Legend of the Wolf-cat, which concerns a not quite mythical beast and two Paragons—those unusual people, born of Dedos, who cannot become Dedos because of an inability to reproduce themselves. This does not mean all Paragons are permanently sterile. Their method of reproduction had not evolved by the time of the Wolf-cat’s story, when they were perfect, celibate creatures.
 

Starquin had a purpose for them, even though the Dedos considered them useless. Their purpose was fulfilled when Siang performed his legendary deed, but the Paragons continued to appear at intervals during human history, living among humans incognito, like the Dedos.
 

In the year 210,652,166 Paragonic, all southwestern Pangaea was ruled by two Paragons. The land they ruled was already ancient and covered tens of thousands of square kilometers—mountains, valleys, rivers and forests. Through the middle of the land ran a canyon that was without water except at the rainiest times of the year. This canyon separated the domain of Lob, who lived to the west, from the domain of Fel, who lived to the east.
 

It is well known that Paragons were honorable and had no mortal faults. Pride, lust, envy, covetousness, gluttony, anger and sloth were unknown to them. What is not so well known is that they were lonely. This was because they were few and because they regarded their lands as a sacred trust, rarely venturing beyond their borders, spending their time looking after their animals and plants.
 

Since the Paragons were honorable, however, they were capable of love. They loved one another, but most of all they loved the creatures in their care.
 

Lob had a pet. In his pavilion there lived a great doglike creature who shared his food and drink. Long of leg and fleet of foot, it had a shaggy coat of yellowish red, with white tips at tail and chin. It had a pointed muzzle and ears and was the fastest animal in Lob’s domain—so swift that it could run down any prey. And although it possessed most of the sins that mortal animals do, Lob loved it dearly. It was called the Maned Wolf.
 

Fel also had a pet. Although it was bigger than the Maned Wolf, it was no faster; nevertheless, it was the swiftest animal in Fel’s domain and he was very proud of it. It was long and sleek, whereas the Maned Wolf was tall and angular. It had round ears and thick legs and a long tail, and it moved with sinuous grace. Its most striking feature was its coat; close-textured and thick, golden yellow and covered with a multitude of black rosettes. Fel considered that there was no finer animal in all Pangaea. It was called the Leopard.
 

One day Lob and Fel met at the foot of the canyon near the Many-faceted Rock, where their domain abutted. They had their pets with them, on leashes. The pets, being mortal animals, sniffed and then snarled at each other. The hair around the neck of the Maned Wolf rose, and the lips of the Leopard curled back. Each thought the other was too close to its domain—and besides, they found each other odd-looking. They strained at their leashes and the Paragons had difficulty in holding them apart, so eventually they tied them to stunted trees. The pets were close enough to sniff and snarl, but too far away to attack.
 

“That’s a fine-looking animal you have there, Fel,” said Lob politely.
 

“Yours is a good-looking beast, too.”
 

“Wolf is the swiftest in the land. I’ve seen him run down a guanaco in fifty paces.”
 

“I’m sure that is so. But I tell you this: Leopard can catch a fleeing gazelle in the time it takes a leaf to fall!”
 

So saying, they both paused to consider their animals, each gazing with fondness at his own pet (but not with pride) and with thoughtfulness at the other’s (but not with envy or covetousness). Strange and unaccustomed thoughts grew out of this scrutiny. It seemed that there was some natural outcome to all this, but because of their perfection they were unable to give voice to it.
 

The Maned Wolf trotted to and fro on tall legs, within the bounds of his leash, and the Leopard slunk in fluid circles. And the Paragons loved each other. So what was this unfamiliar sensation? It was growing inside them, bursting to be let out. And they couldn’t contain it any longer.
 

“It seems to me that friendly sport is a good thing,” remarked Lob casually. “Exercise for the pets, and a lesson to one of us to be magnanimous, and to the other to be humble.”
 

“The greatest distance in the time it takes a leaf to fall?”
 

“I think the first home over a distance of fifty paces would be more equitable.”
 

While the Paragons discussed the race rules, the animals looked at each other in astonishment, hostility forgotten. They had understood every word, because Paragons conversed in thought-images much of the time. And although Paragons were said to have no sin in them, it seemed to the animals that this new project was tempting fate.
 

But the rules were arranged and the Paragons climbed in opposite directions out of the canyon with their pets, having arranged to hold the race in five years’ time—time meaning little to them. The Paragons returned to their pavilions as excited as their pets were disillusioned. Time went by, and it happened that one day the Maned Wolf met the Leopard by the Many-faceted Rock. And this time there was no snarling.
 

“My master makes me run every day until I’m ready to drop,” the Maned Wolf said. “And he sets loose small animals for me to chase and kill. More animals than he needs for food.”
 

“Me, too.” The Leopard spoke in a sad purr. “He flies birds with clipped wings and I must leap and catch them, and if I fail he... he...”
 

“He beats me. It’s not right.” The Maned Wolf marveled at what he’d said because it didn’t sound as though he was talking about a Paragon.
 

“We must do something about it.”
 

“We cannot race. Whoever wins, the Paragons will lose. It has become too important to them, this silly game. I don’t care who is the faster,” said the Maned Wolf.
 

“Neither do I. In fact,” said the Leopard, “I like you, Wolf. I don’t want to race against you.”
 

“Nor I against you.”
 

Thus, even as the two Paragons were growing further apart, the two animals came together in friendship and love, and a desire to do what was best for their masters.
 

The years went by.
 

At the appointed hour on the appointed day, the Paragons met in the ravine by the Rock where their domains abutted. They embraced.
 

“I kept my word,” said Lob, “but I have no animal. Maned Wolf left me over three years ago. I’ve seen him about the domain, but he won’t come to me.”
 

“Leopard went too. It’s a great pity, because he was undoubtedly the swiftest animal in all Pangaea.”
 

“I doubt it.”
 

“That’s a strange statement, Lob.”
 

“I was merely expressing an honest difference of opinion, Fel.”
 

The Paragons drew apart and turned their backs on each other, and as they climbed back to their own lands, three animals trotted down the canyon from the north. On one side was the Maned Wolf, older, but still swift. On the other ran the Leopard, limping a little, but agile enough. And in the middle...
 

In the middle was an animal the like of which the Paragons had never seen. It possessed some of the Leopard’s features; the coat was dense and tawny and covered with small black spots. But the legs were long like the Maned Wolf’s and the head small, and the claws were dull and did not retract. The Paragons regarded this strange animal with astonishment. Then the Maned Wolf ran to Lob, and the Leopard ran to Fel, scrambling up the slopes. The animals greeted their owners, then turned to regard their offspring, as if to say:
See what love can do
.
 

And somewhere in the Greataway, Starquin was enraged that his perfect Paragons had been shamed by the animals of Earth. The ground trembled with his anger and boulders tumbled into the canyon and the sea burst upon the land. A mighty cataract swept along the canyon, bearing down on the love-animal in a wall twenty meters high. The Paragons backed away from the edge, stared at each other in fear from opposite sides, then looked at the trapped animal in pity. The Maned Wolf yelped and the Leopard screamed.
 

The Wolf-cat saw the advancing wall of water, threw back its head and uttered a kind of barking howl. It looked up at the distant Maned Wolf, its father, then at the equally distant Leopard, its mother, and it didn’t know which way to run.
 

So it ran along the bottom of the canyon, pursued by the roaring water. The Paragons’ pity changed to amazement, because the animal was the swiftest they’d ever seen—swifter even than the Maned Wolf or the Leopard. It moved like the wind itself, bounding and fluid, with all the best of both wolf and cat in perfect motion. It was the most beautiful thing the Paragons had ever seen—and in their awe there was covetousness.
 

Starquin sensed this, and the land shuddered and the walls of the canyon moved farther apart. Because Starquin had at last realized that perfection can only exist in isolation and that the Paragons were becoming contaminated by their very nearness to each other.
 

The love-animal, his great speed waning as he tired, felt the ground move, too, and saw that the water was almost upon him. So he made his decision, veered right and bounded up the canyon wall to join the Leopard, his mother, because this is the way a mortal animal’s strongest bonds lie. The Maned Wolf, far away on the opposite bank, barked for joy to see his son safe, although he knew he would never see him again.
 

Neither would he ever see the Leopard again, because this part of Pangaea had divided into two great continents moving ever farther apart, which in the Ifalong would become known by new names—South America and Africa. The Maned Wolf would never leave South America, but the Leopard would find vast new lands, because Africa was destined to meet Asia and India.
 

And the Wolf-cat? Lob saw him go to Fel’s side of the canyon and knew beyond doubt that Fel now possessed the swiftest animal in the world. He was overcome with envy. Thinking Fel had used the power of the mother Leopard to capture his prize, he shouted again and again, “You cheat! You cheat!” until the Earth rumbled again and the new continents moved ever faster, until they were lost from sight of each other.
 

As time went by, the incident became lost among new legends of the new lands, and Lob and Fel died. But the love-animal carried the stigma of Lob’s taunt down all his generations into the Ifalong, and his kind became known as the Cheater.
 

The noise of pounding water increased and Manuel guessed that he was approaching a waterfall. The trail took a sudden bend, hugging the wall of a rocky outcropping. He trod carefully because here the trail was little more than a pebbly shelf ten meters above the river, which flowed fast and foamy with swirling eddies. The nature of the rock changed, the dry redness giving way to a more mellow brown, with here and there a plant thrusting its roots into a crack. Manuel left the outcropping behind, the trail widened again and the scene changed completely.
 

Now the narrow river valley was filled with lush vegetation. Manuel was filled with a longing for home. The valley was similar to one he’d known not ten kilometers from Pu’este: the rushing water, the tall trees with their thick old trunks acrawl with insects, the rustling life in the undergrowth and everywhere the hanging, looping vines. Even the smell was similar, a nostalgic recipe of damp earth and rotting leaves, of aromatic herbs, animal droppings and resin. He wandered on more slowly now, stepping carefully, because there was a waiting stillness about this place. The trail descended precipitously toward a broad pool that formed a tranquil backwater to the river.
 

On the bank of this pool sat the Girl.
 

She didn’t look up as Manuel approached. She sat with drooping shoulders, staring down at the slow surface. Her hands were clasped loosely in her lap and her plump legs swung idly above the water. Manuel sat beside her, easing himself quietly into her company.
 

“That’s me down there,” she said. A tear dropped from the end of her nose, and ripples widened for a moment. The reflection soon reformed, however—remorselessly.
 

“No, it’s not,” said Manuel. “It’s just a package your soul’s wrapped up in. There’s an old priest in the village called Dad Ose. That’s what he used to say when the girls from the village complained boys wouldn’t mate with them because they were too ugly. He used to say the package doesn’t mean a thing... Why am I talking as if it all happened a long time ago? Anyway, he says that there are even places where people could unwrap you and put you in a different package if you wanted—which shows the package doesn’t matter.”
 

“I lived in a place something like that. The package did matter, more than you’d ever believe.”
 

“So why did you leave?”
 

“Zozula took me away. Anyway, there were other things wrong with Dream Earth.”
 

Manuel thought for a moment. “There was something terrible about that place you lived in—I could tell by the way you spoke about it. And by that name you didn’t want to be called—Marilyn. You wanted to get out.”