"I got stranded, and I've just got to get home to Horseman's estate,” Rowan said. “Please, mister, will you let me ride with you?"
"I'm not supposed to pick up passengers,” he said. “Particularly not children."
"Please,” Rowan repeated tearfully.
Peba and the others were addressing the man's mind. It was closed, but Cottontail had found out how to find crevices, and they were able to get in. They concentrated on Belief, Acceptance, and Sympathy.
"Aw, okay,” the man said. “I shouldn't, but what the hell. I mean heck.” They felt his embarrassment; it seemed that there were some vocal words that weren't supposed to be used on children, so he substituted another word that meant the same thing. This was tricky for Peba to understand, but was a good sign. The man would help. “I'm going there anyway."
"Thank you so much,” Rowan said, smiling bravely.
"Get in the cab. Here; I'll toss your bags in back."
"No!” Rowan cried. “Things would break.” She walked around to the other door, carrying the bags herself. She opened the door and lifted the two bags in very carefully. Peba appreciated that; he did not much like being bagged, and being bounced around was worse.
The man made the truck motor start, and they moved out onto the road. Peba and the others were able to see some through the man's eyes. They were getting better at this; it was like directing a human mind in their own realm, once they made allowances for its closed nature and its awesome power.
"So who are you?” the man inquired. “How did you get stranded?"
Rowan talked, and none of what she said was true. This was another new concept: lying. It seemed that the humans of this realm did it a lot. They were able to, because their minds were closed; they could not read each other's thoughts.
Meanwhile the members of the burrow were getting good practice, discovering the aspects of this mind that led to belief and acceptance. There were large areas it was better to avoid, such as the complications of the hauling business, bad drivers, and family life, so they focused on the more familiar ones, such as where he was going and what he looked forward to eating next. If the Dayson mind was similar to this one, they would know how to influence it.
"Do you know where Dayson Consultancies is?” Rowan inquired.
"That's where you're going? Sure, I've seen the sign. But it's out of my way."
"Go there anyway,” Peba thought firmly, buttressed by the other minds.
"But it won't hurt to vary my route a little."
He took them to the address, and Rowan got out with her bags, thanking him. “But better make him forget all this, if you can,” she thought.
They concentrated as the man drove away, making him forget. That was another useful exercise. They were getting better at the manipulation of closed powerful human minds; they answered to the same commands as the dull humans back home, when the directives were strong enough and correctly phrased. But it would not have been possible for a single burrow mate to do it, or even two or three; it took all of them to mount enough mental power to do it effectively. Cottontail had been right about that.
Now they were at the house of the key man. Rowan walked around to the back of the house where it was dark, and opened the bags so the burrow mates could come out. That was a relief. They walked around the small yard, and Owl flew up to perch on a fence. Then he spread out his awareness.
"The human man is sleeping,” Owl reported.
"Do we have to wake him?” Rowan asked.
"No. We can implant thoughts in a sleeping human mind more readily than in a waking one, because they turn off their conscious choices. In fact, this one seems considerably more open, being in a dreaming state."
"Good. Can you do it from here?"
Owl considered. “No. We need to get close, and focus intensely, or the command will not remain after we depart. Normally we direct humans only for the moment, and are not concerned with what they think at other times. We want this change to be permanent."
"I don't think we can get inside very readily,” Rowan thought. “The house is bound to have an alarm system.” She sent them a new concept of a machine that lurked like a cat, eager to pounce if anyone came in range. It would make a loud noise and call in the police, who were like predators. That daunted them.
"If one of us gets close to the human man, the others can work through that one,” Gopher thought. “Who can get inside without disturbing the alarm?
"I can tunnel there,” Peba thought. “Would that do?"
"I think it would,” Rowan agreed. “The alarm wires probably cover the doors and windows, but not the ground. But the house should be on a concrete base."
Peba sniffed around the house. “There is a place where there is dirt below the wall."
"Well, maybe this is an older house, and part of it projects beyond the concrete,” Rowan thought. “If you can get in there, maybe you can locate him once you're inside the house."
"I will try,” Peba agreed. He started digging by the wall, using his strong front claws, and soon excavated a hole under the wall. Gopher could tunnel, but Peba was faster, and his armored body was more flexible than Gopher's shell. He angled up on the other side. Soon he was inside the house.
At least he was inside something. It was dark, and his feet and nose told him more than his eyes did. “There is not a large space here,” he reported.
"What size is it?” thought came.
Peba sniffed and felt, describing the size.
"That's a crawlway,” Rowan thought. “A sort of space under the house where there are pipes and things You should be able to find a way out of it and into the house proper. I think."
Peba ran along the low passage, which was somewhat like a tunnel. He came to something hot.
"That's a hot water pipe,” Rowan thought. “Avoid it."
Finally he found an aperture to another chamber. “I think that's where pipes or something used to be,” Rowan thought. “See if it leads into the main house."
It seemed to, but there was a closed door blocking the way. “Maybe it's not closed all the way,” Rowan thought. “Try pushing against it, slowly."
Peba put his back against it and pushed. The door moved. Soon there was a big enough opening for him to pass through. Now he was in the main house.
"Woof!"
That was a dog, making a vocal sound along with its thought. Peba curled up into a ball. The dog sniffed at him, trying to figure him out.
"A dog!” Rowan thought. “I never thought of that. Can we stop it?"
"We can send it a sleep signal,” Indigo thought. “We will send it through you, Peba."
The signal came, amplified by the joined minds of the burrow mates. Peba oriented on the dog, finding its mind, and sent the sleep signal there. Then the dog lay down and slept.
Peba uncurled and went on. “Where is the human man?” he asked.
"That way,” Owl replied, sending a direction.
Peba followed it, and come to another door. He was able to wedge it open and enter what Rowan thought was the bedroom. The human man was sleeping on the bed.
"Get close to him,” Gopher thought. “Then relay the signal."
Peba went under the bed, orienting on the sleeping mind. When he was directly beneath it, he lifted his nose as high as he could. He searched for the entry into the mind, getting his thought placed there.
"That's it,” Cottontail thought. “Now we will channel our thought through you."
Peba held his position while the massed thought built up. “CHANGE THE MALL LOCATION. THE SINKHOLE IS NOT GOOD. PUT IT AT THE OTHER SITE."
The human man stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the mental intrusion. But the thought had been implanted. He would wake and think it was his own. If this worked.
"Now get out of there,” Rowan thought. “Hurry!"
Peba scurried from under the bed, out the doorway, past the sleeping dog, through the other door, through the old pipe hole, and into the crawlway. Now that the mental contact was brok
en, both the man and dog woke. The dog started barking, and the man got off his bed; Peba felt their changing mind traces. He hurried.
Soon he reached his tunnel under the wall, and wedged through it. “We'd better fill this in,” Rowan thought. She scraped at the dirt with her hands. “We don't want them to know what happened."
Gopher and Peba helped scrape dirt into the hole, and Rowan tamped it tight with her feet. Then they got into the two bags and the girl carried them around and away from the house. They were escaping!
But now they had a problem: getting back. There was no truck with a cooperative driver; in fact very few cars were on the road at this hour.
Peba realized that they had been so focused on reaching the key man, and changing his mind, that they hadn't thought about what happened afterward. They had accomplished their mission; the Dayson man would surely have the Mall site changed. But what good would that be if all of them were stuck well away from the portal?
"Suddenly I'm not feeling very smart,” Rowan thought glumly. “I may have gotten all of us into deep manure.” The last image was of a big pit filled with ill-smelling refuse, a loathsome place to be. It seemed that this was another concept with different vocal words, some of which were not supposed to be spoken or heard by children. Rowan had used a bad word. She was clearly an unreformed child.
None of the burrow mates wanted to be in that particular pit, whatever its word. “What alternatives are there?” Peba asked.
"Just one, I think,” Rowan thought. “I think I'll have to hitchhike."
There were dark thoughts associated with this concept. “Is there danger?” Peba asked for them all.
"Yes. You never can tell who will pick you up. But we'll have to do it, and I hope you folk can change the mind of any bad man. It's the only way."
"We will try,” Peba agreed.
Rowan walked to what she thought of as a through street, with cars traveling along it, then stood beside the pavement and stuck out her thumb. The first car passed on by, and the next, but then one slowed and stopped. It had colored lights lights on it; Peba saw them through the girl's mind.
"Oh, no!” she thought. “A police car!"
Her mind made it clear: this was disaster. The police were humans who enforced the rules of the human society. Children were not supposed to be out on the road at night, especially not hitchhiking. Rowan could not escape them, and the burrow mates could not change the police minds in time to do any good. Rowan was captive, and the burrow mates with her.
This was truly deep manure.
Chapter 7
Prisoner
Owl was as nervous as the other burrow mates. The Police had captured them, and only desperate avoidance broadcasting had stopped the humans from taking and opening Rowan's bags and discovering the animals. But that merely postponed the danger; all of them remained captive, and it was not clear how they would escape.
The Police car arrived at Rowan's house. Uncle and Aunt came out to meet them; they would have been called, Rowan's mind thought. These inordinately smart humans had ways of contacting each other at a distance that rivaled telepathy. The car stopped, the policemen got out, and one of them came around to open the door nearest to Rowan. She scrambled out, hauling the bags with her.
Aunt turned to face her, from the other side of the car. “Go to your room,” her terse thought came. “We will attend to you in a moment."
Rowan walked to the house. Her mind said that it was best not to show any resistance at this time, lest the situation worsen yet more. Then, when Uncle and Aunt were talking with the Policemen, she paused by a bush before the door. She set down the two bags so that the bush concealed them from the other humans, and opened them. “Go!” she thought urgently. “Get out of here. Go through the portal and don't come back. They'll never know you were here, and you'll be safe.” But behind her thought there was sheer misery, for she believed she would never see them again.
"I can't do that,” Cottontail thought.
"Oh that's right, you can't walk. I'm so sorry. I'll have to keep you with me. I'll tell them I found you injured, and they won't know your nature.” She reached into the bag to lift Cottontail out.
Meanwhile the other animals got out of sight under the bushes. Peba, Indigo, and Owl were gone immediately; Gopher was of course slower, but had no trouble finding concealment. Owl found a perch under a thick shrub and remained put, so he could focus on the minds of the others.
Rowan picked up the empty bags, letting Cottontail cling to her shoulder. She went into the house.
Now the five burrow mates held a conference. “We will not leave you here,” Gopher thought to Cottontail, for all of them. “We will rescue you."
"You must rescue Rowan also,” Cottontail thought. “So she can carry me to the portal."
"We will try."
But Owl knew that he was not the only one who feared that was not possible. These smart humans were dangerous.
Soon the group by the Police car ended its discussion, and Uncle and Aunt returned to the house. They locked Rowan in her room, not even inquiring how she was. They were angry; that emotion came through their closed minds. The Police car drove away, but the anger remained. This boded no good for Rowan.
Gopher remained close to the house, circling it so as to get close to Rowan's room. The other burrow mates went the other way, getting closer to the adult humans. They focused on their minds, trying to get inside so as to influence them.
"They are going to send Rowan away,” Indigo reported. “To something called a boarding school. They don't want her here any more."
Owl was alarmed. “But our whole effort here is to keep the portal open so we can remain in touch."
Cottontail's thought came from inside the house. “I am informing Rowan of their plan for her. She is extremely upset."
Indeed, Owl felt the girl's misery. “Inform her that we will rescue her, just as she rescued Gopher.” Though he had no idea how.
Now Rowan's thought came, as she focused. “Owl! You have to get away from here. Don't let them catch you!"
"We are learning to make them forget us,” Owl reminded her. “And we must not let Cottontail be lost."
"Oh, you're right! I forgot about him, though I'm holding him. But how can he get back to the portal?"
"We will free you, and you will carry him,” Owl thought. “But you must show us how to free you.” maybe her larger mind could find an answer.
"You're all here? You didn't go to the portal? Yes, now I feel your minds. But the danger! If you get caught—if something goes wrong—"
"You are getting more flighty than I am,” Owl reproved her. “How can we free you?"
"Gee, fellas, I'm crying!” And she was, but they understood from her mind that this was in this case a positive expression of emotion. She appreciated their support. “But I'll try to figure something out. What we need is the key.” There was a mental picture of a small metal object that was used to lock and unlock a door. “But that will be in Aunt's purse. No way to get that. Unless one of you can sneak inside and fetch it. And you can't do that, because the outer doors are locked too. They're not taking any chances tonight."
"Peba can tunnel under."
"Not this house; it's on a solid concrete slab And the windows are all closed, and if any broke, they'd be alert right away. You'd have to come down the chimney.” She paused, a wild idea coming. “The chimney! They're not using the fireplace in the summer. If someone could come down that, it just might work."
Owl did not ponder long. “I will do it."
Now Rowan protested. “But it's dangerous! You could get stuck in there, or suffocate. You couldn't fly in there, and you'd get so awfully dirty you'd hate it."
"I am a burrowing owl,” he reminded her. “I am accustomed to tight dirty tunnels. I can preen after the job is done.” all this was true, but he remained nervous about the task. He had on occasion experienced the ashes of burned-over sections of the forest, and did not relish being
confined in that sort of thing.
"You're so brave,” Rowan thought.
"It is merely a job to do.” But he was pleased by her flattery. That powerful mind had strong feelings too, and when the girl was pleased, he was pleased. He did like her; they all did. So he had to do his part to save her. “I will fly up to the chimney opening."
"We will support you in whatever way we can,” Gopher thought. “But we can do nothing physically."
"I will manage.” Owl moved out from the bush, then launched into the air. He felw to the top of the house, where the chimney poked up. He perched on its brick rim. He sent out a picture of what he saw.
"That's it,” Rowan thought. “Oh—I don't know if there's a damper!"
"What is that?"
"It's a sort of metal thing that shuts off the air. I think most chimneys have them. I really don't know much about chimneys. Maybe you better not do this."
But Owl was already jumping into the chimney, lest he get too nervous to continue. There was soot, but there was also room to spread his wings somewhat. He could handle this.
He dropped down, using his half-spread wings to slow his fall. This scraped soot off the sides, but that couldn't be helped. When it got too dark to see well, he spread his wings farther and slowed almost to a stop. That was just as well, because he was coming to the bottom. No, it was an angled piece of metal.
"That's the damper,” Rowan thought. “I guess you could push it farther open if you need to."
"I don't need to,” he replied, sliding past it. One advantage of being a small owl was that he could get into places other owls could not manage. That made it easier to join the burrow; most birds were limited to tree branches. Living underground also protected him from extremes of weather; he didn't have to get wet or cold or hot, because things were pretty stable down in the burrow. The gopher tortoises had made a good thing when they went below. But most of all, his burrow experience enabled him to handle something like this chimney, now that he needed to.
"You're wonderful, Owl,” Rowan agreed.
He hadn't been trying to broadcast that, but she had picked it up anyway. She was improving.