Page 22 of Voyage to the City of the Dead

  "When we first arrived in Turput," he mumbled, concen­trating on his instruments instead of looking at her, "you spent an awful lot of time," he hesitated over the right word, "meditating with Tyl."

  "It was very instructive," she replied. "I'm still not fol­lowing you, Etienne."

  "I thought maybe you were diving a little too deeply into your work."

  "I don't-" she broke off, gaping at him. Then her expres­sion twisted into a smile. "Well I'll be damned. You're jeal­ous of Tyl, aren't you? Jealous of a primitive mammalian alien."

  "I didn't say that," he snapped quickly. "There you are, jumping to conclusions again, seeing things the way you want to see them."

  "Well you can relax, Etienne." The smile grew wider. "Among the Tsla the length and shape of oversized pro­bosces are important sexual characteristics, but a flexible shnoz holds no attraction for nee whatsoever."

  His head jerked round and he stared at her. "I just said you were spending a lot of time with him, I didn't mean to imply that‑you've got a dirty mind, Lyra."

  "You mean a dirty husband. Etienne, I can't believe you. I don't know whether to be tattered or insulted."

  "Oh hell," he muttered, embarrassed to the soles of his feet, "be busy." Footfalls sounded behind them. "Anyway, our passengers are coming in."

  "So what? They can't understand terranglo."

  "Don't be so sure. I'll give the Tsla this; they're quick on the uptake. Don't be too surprised if we learn that they can draw a few inferences from our private conversations, especially when their names are mentioned."

  "Not just a dirty mind, a dirty paranoid mind," she mur­mured, but she broke off when Tyl and his companions trun­dled in.

  Homat was sandwiched between two of the porters, a ball of thick cloth and fur among which only eyes and mouth were visible. "I can't go outside anymore, de‑Etienne," he whimpered. "No more."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Days passed and the temperature fell slowly, but outside the hydrofoil the climate was working dramatic changes on the landscape. Though sheets of frozen water hung from the much reduced cliffs, hundreds of fast streams flowed into the Skar.

  Homat was squatting in the main cabin behind the cockpit, heavily bundled and warm but far from comfortable.

  Etienne had been mulling the problem for several days. Now he spoke to their Mai guide. "Maybe we can fix something up for you, Homat."

  "No matter, de‑Etienne. I will not go outside any more."

  "Lyra, what about trying to ft him with one of your spare thermal suits? You've got two backups. You two are about the same height, though you're much more‑"

  "Watch it," she said warningly from her seat.

  "‑Rubensesque. Homat would swim in a suit, but couldn't you concoct some kind of strap so that the sensors would stay close enough to his skin to function, and adjust the thermostat for Mai comfort?"

  "I'll see what I can do." She escorted the nervous Homat down to the lower deck.

  Several hours later they reemerged. The thermal suit bal­looned around Homat's arms and legs but she'd managed to secure the fabric around his torso.

  "It's still a little base. I had a hard time convincing him he couldn't wear his furs inside because the thermal sensors had to have some skin contact. He finally gave in, but I thought he was going to turn blue before he finally got out of his old attire and into the suit. It wasn't hard to adjust the circuitry." She put a hand inside one sleeve, pushing back the elastic material. She drew her fingers back hastily.

  "Are you sure you're okay like this, Homat? It's hot enough in there to burn."

  Their guide sues jubilant. "For the first time in many many days I am truly comfortable," he replied. "So delighted I am! Thank you, de‑Lyra, thank you all much!"

  "What about you, Tyl?" Etienne asked the Tsla who rested on the floor behind him. "Will you and the others be able to handle the weather here if it's necessary to go outside?"

  "We have our double capes and hoods, Etienne, and we can tolerate colder climes than thee. We will be all right, as long as it does not prove necessary to remain outside for too long."

  Etienne unexpectedly leaned forward and the hydrofoil lurched sharply to port. "Sorry. Instinctive reaction." He pointed. "What's that?"

  A small mountain stood in the shallow water by the riv­erbank. The mountain had a half dozen legs, two of which were busy in the water. As they watched in fascination the mufti‑ton beast brought up a twisting hundred‑kilo fish in hooked claws, transferred the catch to a long snout lined with sharp triangular teeth. For so massive a creature it moved with blinding speed. Long black hair covered the entire body and dragged in the water.

  Eyes with narrow pupils peered out at them from beneath bony ridges. Etienne edged the hydrofoil toward shore for a closer took. As he did the beast turned with a deep grunt then galloped away on all six legs, its catch clutched firmly between extended jaws.

  "I have never seen anything like that before, de‑ Etienne."As he spoke Homat made rapid protective signs across his chest and stomach.

  "I have," Tyl said softly. "A Hyral. I have seen only two such before and both were dead, having fallen over the edge of the Guntali."

  As they stared the hirsute fisher crested a slight slope, where it dropped its catch between its mate and two massive roly‑poly cubs before turning to throw a penetrating, high ­pitched roar toward the boat.

  Lyra was staring through her recorder as she committed the new discovery to their records. "Family group. I won­dered what else the Na ate."

  "Speaking of the Na," Etienne said as he steered the hydrofoil back into the middle of the river again, "it's cold enough here for them to come right down to the water, but we haven't seen any."

  "Perhaps they stay away from the river out of supersti­tion, some kind of taboo."

  "I wouldn't think that. Not with all the fish to be had in these waters."

  "Maybe the air's too thick here. We'‑re not nearly as high as the Guntali near Turput. It wouldn't matter. The river's still wide and deep enough to protect us." She looked thoughtful.

  "Something will have to be done about the Na, Etienne. We've seen proof that Mai and Tsla can work together, but the Na appear too primitive and combative to be brought into any worldwide interracial process without extensive ed­ucation and a great deal of care. Just because I'm not fond of them doesn't mean I want to see the other two dominant races exterminate them.

  "They're not animals. They're intelligent and have de­veloped a rudimentary society. If you consider the amount of territory they control then a case could be made that they and not the Mai or Tsla are Tslamaina's dominant life form."

  "I'm glad we don't have to make the ultimate decisions," he replied. "Someone else will have to decide whether it's right to intervene in local affairs to protect the future of the Na, and that's a long way down the road."

  Though the Skar's course twisted in a steady curve farther eastward, they continued to travel north toward the planet's sole ice cap. The occasional appearance of the sun through the uneasy clouds did little to warm them. Despite this Homat spent an inordinate amount of time out on deck, luxuriating in his thermal suit and the freedom it provided, a freedom to laugh at temperatures that would have frozen an unpro­tected Mai in minutes.

  They saw evidence of the ice cap before they set eyes upon it. It announced itself as a brightening ahead, where the ice reflected the sun back against the undersides of scud­ding clouds. The next morning they lifted on repellers to clear still another rapid, turned a bend in the river, and saw the southernmost edge of the frozen rampart.

  The once awesome canyon of the Barshajagad had been reduced to a meandering river valley. Numerous waterfalls tumbled down the melting edge of the cap. They would freeze solid again during the night.

  They did not have to trace dozens of the streams to locale the source of the river Skar. The much shrunken but still navigable stream emerged from a huge hole in the wall of ice, having eroded a tunnel
a hundred meters high at the entrance. Etienne guided the hydrofoil it until it floated be­neath the lip of the vast cavern. Then he carefully nudged the boat ashore, scraping bottom several times before beach­ing on the gravel.

  Overhead the ice had thinned and sunlight poured through the translucent, frozen ceiling, timing the ice a pale blue and illuminating the river for a distance of several dozen meters from the entrance. Then it was swallowed by cold night. Cold water dripped from smooth icy stalactites, stinging the upturned faces of the crew as it stood on the deck to ex­amine the surroundings.

  "What a beautiful place," Lyra murmured. Somewhere a faint echo concurred with her opinion.

  The ‑four Tsla kneeled in a circle, chanting and making signs. The Redowls waited respectfully until the ceremony had concluded before Lyra inquired as to its purpose.

  "We give thanks," Tyl explained. "We feel in our souls a great warmth, as must thee, for thy journey has been, far longer than ours."

  "We couldn't have made it without your help," Etienne told him, "and without the aid of your people."

  "All given freely in the pursuit of knowledge. We were glad we could help." Swd and Yij likewise expressed their feelings, while Yulour stood nearby and looked on with be­mused contentment.

  "What do we do now'?" Homat inquired, peering out through the eyeslits in the cloth that covered his face. "Do we begin our return tomorrow? A long journey."

  "I know you're anxious to go home, Homat, but we've come all this way to see the source of the Skar and we're not leaving until we do so."

  Homat sounded puzzled. "But have done so, de‑Etienne." He gestured at the spacious cavern and the distant darkness. "What other source can there be?"

  Etienne smiled as he turned to point into the blackness beneath the ice. "This isn't the river's source. Somewhere back there it emerges from the mass of the ice cap, probably in the form of a hot spring. I can't think of another mech­anism which could have bored so deep a cave in the body of the ice. I need to record it."

  Homat's eyes grew wide. "You can't mean to go back in there, de‑Etienne! This is the top of the world. Who knows what devils and monsters lie in wait for us in the night which lives throughout the day?"

  "Why should any lie in wait," Lyra asked gently, "since no one ever comes here? If any did live back in there they'd long since have given up hope of any meals coming to visit them."

  "You argue very plausibly, de‑Lyra. My mind wishes to believe you, but my insides are not convinced."

  "If you'd feel safer you can camp on the shore here and wait for us to return. I doubt the river runs very far back, hot springs or not."

  "No, no, I will come with you," the Mai insisted bravely. "I would rather do that than stay here alone. You are certain there is not far to go?"

  "I can't be sure, but I'd be willing to bet we'll have less than an hour's journey in the boat. If the water becomes too shallow, we'll travel the rest of the way in on repellers."

  "Why do your words not make me feel confident, de­-Etienne?"

  "Relax, Homat." He turned to Lyra. "When we reach the source I want to take some core samples. This must be very old ice and the geologic history of the planet is stored here, conveniently waiting to be thawed out for study."

  Lyra offered no objection. Their goal was within reach. Soon they would begin the long journey back to warmer climes. Let Etienne enjoy his fieldwork for a day or two. There was no reason to rush now that they'd arrived at their intended and eventual destination.

  He looked to his right, deeper into the cavern. "There's a nice wide spot. I'm tired of rocking. The water them is gentle and shallow. I'll move us aver and set the foils down on the gravel. Be nice to sleep without rocking for a change."

  "Second the motion," Lyra said. "It should be safe enough. There's no sign of carnivores about, no bones or dung on the beach, and the water should keep any small vermin clear of the boat, assuming this enviroment is benign enough to permit their existence."

  "I'll run a good charge through the hull. That ought to keep off any late‑night visitors."

  "It would be delighted to sleep so quietly," Tyl agreed.

  "Then it's settled. We owe ourselves the rest," Etienne declared. "First thing tomorrow morning we'll go Upriver to the source so I can get my samples. With luck this ice may predate the collision that created the Groalamasan. That will give me plenty to do on the way back Downriver."

  "You did enough griping about the heat down south to fill a book, and now you can't wait to get back to it," Lyra chided.

  "I've always been cold‑natured, Lyra, you know that. It doesn't mean I enjoy sweating down to skin and bones, though." For a change the argument was friendly. In its own way that was as great an accomplishment for the two of them as was reaching the head of the Skar.

  Lyra was sound asleep when the muffled scream woke her. She blinked as her head lifted from the pillow and she stared across the cabin. Soft green lights from ship's instru­mentation lit the darkness. A soft wheeze alongside indicated that her husband still slept.

  The scream had barely faded and she was beginning to wander if she'd dreamed it when suddenly a cluster of the green tights changed to red and a warning horn started to blare. Etienne woke instantly, slid off the bed and struggled with his pants.

  "False alarm?"

  "I don't know," she told him, still straining to hear. "I thought I heard something yell." The barn continued its racket as a soft knocking sounded at the door. Lyre opened it as she fought with the seals of leer blouse.

  "What is happening?" Tyl asked sleepily. The remaining Tsla clustered in the corridor behind him. "There are strange noises outside and Swd thinks he smells something even though we know we are protected from the air outside."

  "Noises and smells and you think you hard something," Etienne muttered as he sealed his coat. "'that settles it." He pushed past Tyl on his way to the cockpit.

  The light of three of Tslamaina"s four moons poured through the transparent plexalloy. The horn continued to shout as Etienne strained to check the instruments. "Don't see anything outside. No abnormal readings. We haven't moved from where I parked us yesterday evening and the hull's still electrified."

  "I'll check astern," Lyra told him. She removed her pistol from its charging slot.

  "Watch yourself," Etienne admonished her.

  With the Tsla following curiously she worked her way aft. There was no sign of Homat, but that didn't worry her. Anything less than a complete upset of the boat would not be enough to pry him from the comfort of his overheated cubicle.

  Cautiously she cracked the stern doorway. Freezing air brought her all the way awake. The rumble and gurgle of the shallow river was the only sound as she stepped out onto the rear deck.

  A glance forward showed only darkness. There was no movement in the upper reaches of the cavern. Outside only the moons moved in patient procession against the sky. Something shorted out, she thought, wondering if some other strange local critter was somehow playing havoc with their instrumentation.

  A heavy weight landed on her right shoulder. She went down hard. The asyrrapt went flying across the deck. A big chunk of dead log lay next to her.

  The Na who had thrown it now peered over the gunwale, eyes glittering in the moonlight. Several similar hairy faces joined the first. One huge, muscular arm, reached over the top of the railing and Yij disappeared over the side.

  Tyl and Yulour took Lyra under the arms and hauled her toward the doorway. A second club flew toward them. It landed short, booming across the metal deck.

  Through the wash of pain that radiated from her shoulder Lyre gasped, "The gun . . . get my gun!" The source of the scream must have been a Na who'd made contact with the electrified hull as it tried to board the hydrofoil.

  Careful not to touch the metal another Na took aim with an axe. The bane blade was a meter across. At the last instant Swd lunged into its path, to fall gushing blood and life back against Lyra, the weapon's intended target.
Yulour had to kick the nearly split body aside as they fell inside.

  Etienne was there to help, his eyes on Lyre's shoulder where the club had struck. She moaned when he touched her.

  He closed the hatch, then ordered her to move her right arm.

  "Hurts like hell, but it works," she told him.

  "Rotate," he said curtly. She did so, turning the arm palm up, then palm dawn. "Lucky you."

  "Not so lucky," she told him painfully. "My pistol's out­side. That's twice I've lost it when I needed it most. Going to have to work on my grip." She glanced at Tyl. "Did you see where it landed?"

  "The lightning thrower flew through the air. I saw not where it landed."

  "The little metal tool,” Yulour mumbled frantically, trying to keep abreast of what was happening, "I saw where it is."

  "Why didn't you go after it?" Lyra asked him. "I told yore to go after it."

  Yulour looked away, hurt. "We were more concerned with saving thee, Lyra," Tyl told her. He looked at the porter and said gently. "It's all right, Yulour. Tell us where the lightning thrower landed."

  "In the water," he said brightly.

  "Oh hell!" Lyra looked up at her husband. "I'm sorry, Etienne, I'm sorry. I never saw them. We went out on deck, everything seemed normal, and then something landed on me like back taxes."

  "Never mind that now. Just take it easy with that shoul­der."

  Something went whang atop the cabin and everyone looked upward, but the metal held. Thin as it was, the alloy was far too tough to yield to mere bone and stone.

  "What will we fight them with?" Tyl wondered. "It is dark and they are very close."

  "We don't have to fight them with anything, Tyl. Help Lyra forward."

  Outside the cockpit was a choice scene from Dante. The hydrofoil was surrounded by at least thirty of the towering aborigines, who were jumping up and down, howling and spitting and gesturing angrily at the boat. The Na carefully avoided all contact with the hull and when one of them attempted to express his feelings by urinating on it, they no longer tried that either. They did use long spears and the ubiquitous clubs to hammer on the sides. The wood and stone were poor conductors and the Na had discovered they could flail away at the hull without risk to themselves.