The Dedo said, «From there she will go to Torres. There are two possible deviations from our happentrack. Make sure they don’t occur.» She went on to give exact details.
The handmaiden said, «Who is she?»
«You sense nothing remarkable about her?»
«Well.… She seems to have a resistance to pain.»
«That is caused by bor, the alien parasite consumed by the legendary Captain Spring. It was bor which assisted Captain Spring to achieve many of her exploits; otherwise she was an ordinary tiger-woman in charge of a clumsy three‑dimensional spaceship.»
«But how would a parasite help?»
“ Borhas a remarkable sense of self-preservation. It permeates the cells and achieves a complete empathy with the host. At first it was thought to be a hallucinogenic drug, because it made the host feel good — and incidentally made him live longer. A technique known as the Inner Think was later developed to harness this property of bor and extend Man’s lifespan to several hundred years. Even now, a few people with traces of bor in their genes are able to practice the Inner Think.»
The handmaiden said thoughtfully, «So Karina has this bor. How does it help our Purpose?»
«I don’t know,” said the Dedo. «All I know is that Starquin will be freed by a descendant of Karina’s possessing bor‑if he is freed at all.»
HERE ENDS THAT PART OF THE
SONG OF EARTH KNOWN TO
MEN AS
«SUMMER’S END»
IN TIME,
OUR TALE WILL CONTINUE
WITH THE GROUP OF STORIES
AND LEGENDS KNOWN AS
«TORTUGA FESTIVAL»
Where El Tigre strikes a bargain
which is not in accord with Starquin’s Intent,
while Karina utters blasphemy
and the seeds of revolution germinate.
Four
The Frustration of Tonio
“Haul the sails and grease the rails
As down the coast we fly!»
One day before the Festival.…
You will win that race, Tonio.
He’d woken at nights sweating, dreaming of those words and the tone of infinite menace in which they were spoken. During the daytime, as he piloted his car along the sailways, the shadow of the Canton Lord seemed to loom behind him, watching his methods, assessing his skill and finding it wanting, so that he began to make mistakes and actually caught himself glancing over his shoulder.
He’d kept it from Astrud. She thought it was simply the gathering tension as the time of the Festival approached.
«Why don’t you rest, today?» she said. «You don’t have to work. You don’t have a sailing until tomorrow.»
But Tonio was pulling on his tough hide jacket and saddling up his horse. «I have to get down to the tortuga pens. They’re loading today. I want to see nothing goes wrong.»
Astrud sighed, watching with concerned eyes as he rode away. Raoul was still asleep, and Tonio hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to go too.
A scene of confusion met Tonio at the pens. Long-necked mountain people moved slowly around the farm, gathering up ripe tortugas in disinterested fashion while a cai‑man harangued them with threatening barks.
«What’s going on?» Tonio glanced wildly from the tortugas, scattered far and wide, to the cart. Loading hadn’t even commenced. «We’ll miss the start of the race! God, it’ll take all day to get the cart loaded, at this rate. And where are the other carts?»
«Nobody thought to order the carts,” the cai‑man told him. «This one was all I could find. We’ll have to make several trips — the other sailcars have reserved all available carts.»
«But why weren’t the tortugas ready for loading?»
«A tapir broke through the fence and ran amok.»
«But Siervo …?»
«Siervo is dead.»
«Dead?»
«I killed him.» The cai‑man stared at Tonio and behind his eyes was something primitive and savage which caused the True Human to blink and change the subject.
«Where is Cocodrilo?»
«He is dead, too.»
«Cocodrilo dead? I can’t believe that.» Siervo, yes. But there had been something indestructible about Cocodrilo.
«Are you calling me a liar?»
«No, no. Of course not. I’m surprised, that’s all. And by the way, what happened to that felina we captured?» Tonio’s fear turned into bluster. «I thought you people were going to look after her, and now I’m told she escaped. The Canton Lord told me that,” said Tonio, making it clear he had friends in high places. «You’re going to have to answer to him.»
«It was I who told him,” said the cai‑man. «He seemed upset about it.»
«So?»
The Specialist gave a cold grin. «I told him he was welcome to come to the delta and reprimand those responsible. I think he decided it wasn’t worth the trouble.» He glanced at the huddle of stinking huts outside the gate, where the children fought tooth and nail, and the elders lay on the wet grass watching the proceedings with sleepy menace.
Tonio shivered. «Well, just keep those mountain people moving, will you? I’m going to check on the yards.» His words sounded high-pitched and scared to his ears. He turned quickly, annoyed with himself, and mounted his horse.
Things seemed to be going wrong rapidly, so he was mildly surprised when he reached the tortuga yards some time later to see Rayo sitting in her siding, apparently ready for loading.
Eight cars were participating in the race. Eight sidings ran parallel along the coastal plain before converging into two southbound tracks. The first two cars to reach these convergences would have a considerable advantage over the others. There was not much chance of overtaking, further down the coast. The usual procedure, if one car found itself seriously delayed by another, was to change lanes at the felino stages before the shrugleggers were attached for the climb.
But the first two cars would have a clear run, so speed off the mark was essential.
Behind the racers were the slower cars who would not be competing, some twenty of them flying the colors of a multitude of Cantons and Companies. These were the older craft, the big names of bygone years whose owners had to be content with tower prices in the tortuga market. Many of these cars would take three days or more for the journey to Rio Plata, selling their cargo for what it would fetch along the way. The racers generally completed the course in two days.
And Rayo, not requiring assistance at the hills, could conceivably complete it in one.…
The Tortuga races were steeped in history. Each year added to the lore of famous deeds, crippling accidents, bravery and skulduggery. The Festival even featured a special type of song known as the carrera, which celebrated events of past races — and, like the Pegman’s songs, were one of the roots of the great Song of Earth.
Groups of felinos ambled about the yards, singing these songs, chatting with the race crews and concluding agreements for shruglegger help at the vital hill at Rangua North Stage.
Not wanting to arouse suspicion, Tonio came to such a deal with El Tigre.
Later the first cartloads of tortugas began to arrive. Tonio climbed into the cargo hold of Rayo — the tubular space which would be fitted out as a passenger compartment after the race.
The hold was full of nimble-fingered monkey-Specialists, pulling things apart.
«What in hell is going on here?»
Maquinista followed Tonio in. «A slight setback, I’m afraid. One of the axle housings was weakened in the accident, unknown to us. It fractured during this morning’s trial run. We must replace it.»