“Whoa there, man.” Ozzie held up both hands. “What is going on here? Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you.”
“No. No you’re not. No way.”
Orion gave Ozzie a petulant look. “I know who you are.”
“So? I know you are going back to Lyddington, right now.”
“You’re Ozzie,” Orion hissed it out like a challenge. “You opened the human gates. You’ve walked to hundreds of planets already. You’re the oldest person ever, and the richest.”
“All right, some of that stuff is nearly true, but that makes no difference. I’m going on, you’re going home. Period.”
“I can help. I was telling the truth, honest I was, I’m friends with the Silfen. I can find them for you.”
“Not interested.”
“You’re going to walk the paths, the deep paths,” Orion said hotly. “I know you can do it. I’ve seen all the other losers come and go, but you’re different, you’re Ozzie. That’s why I chose to come with you. If anybody can find the paths to other places it’ll be you.” He looked down at the ground, shamefaced. “You’re Ozzie. You’ll make it happen. I know you will.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but this is a non-starter.”
“They’re there.” It was a whisper from the boy’s lips, as if he was having to confess some terrible secret.
“What’s that?” Ozzie asked kindly.
“Mom and Dad, they’re there. They’re on the paths somewhere.”
“Oh, holy… No, listen, I’m not going to find them. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. But they’re gone. I know that’s so hard for you. But you have to go back to town. When I come back, I’ll do everything I can for you, I promise; we’ll find you a nice new home, and track down your family, and I’ll take you to see all sorts of wonderful places.”
“I’m coming with you!” Orion shouted.
“I can’t let you do that. One day you’ll understand.”
“Yeah?” the boy sneered. “And how are you going to stop me, huh! How?”
“I… Now listen—”
“I’m just going to ride on right behind you, all the way.” Orion’s eyes were gleaming defiance now; he was on a roll and he knew it. “Maybe I’ll even ride on in front—you don’t know the way. Yeah, I don’t even need you, not really. I can walk the paths and find them for myself.”
“Jesus wept.”
“Please,Ozzie,” the boy entreated. “It’s not like you can ever get hurt where the Silfen are, so you don’t have to worry about me. And I won’t slow you down. I can ride real good.”
For the first time in over three centuries, Ozzie didn’t know what to do. Quite obviously, he should take the stupid kid back to town and hand him over to the authorities. Okay, so there weren’t any authorities. Hand the boy over to the CST staff, who would do what Ozzie told them to. Send him away to some planet far from Silvergalde, which he’d hate. Tidy him up and force him into school so he could be twisted into a model Commonwealth citizen. And if by some miracle his utterly useless life-reject parents did show up in the future, they’d never find him. And how exactly was he going to march the kid back to town anyway? Tie him up and sling him over Polly?
“Fuck it!”
“That’s really rude,” Orion said, and started to giggle.
Ozzie woke up an hour before dawn when his e-butler’s timer function produced an audio impulse like an old-fashioned alarm clock bell. He slowly opened his eyes, looking around with the retinal insert adding a full infrared spectrum to his vision. The boy was a few meters away, rolled up snugly in thick wool blankets, a small tarpaulin rigged on bamboo poles above him to keep any rain off during the night. The fire they’d lit yesterday evening had burned down to a bright-glowing pile in his enhanced sight, for anyone else it would be a dark mound with a few twinkling embers. Infrared also allowed him to see small creatures scampering about beneath the majestic trees, nibbling on seed pods and nuts.
He lay there, keeping still for a long moment. This was all part of last night’s plan, to wake early and walk Polly and the lontrus away before mounting up and riding off. The path had branched many times yesterday, he could take any number of turnings. And the forest was vast; he’d studied the original orbital survey maps made by CST’s exploratory division. It extended for over two hundred miles beyond the mountains, in some places merging with other, equally large stretches of woodland that covered most of this massive continent. Orion would never be able to find him. The kid would wander around for a day or so, then head back for the cozy safety of the town that was home. A parentless kid alone in an alien forest.
Goddamnit!
Orion moaned slightly, his eyes fluttering as his dream turned uncomfortable. Ozzie saw the blanket had slipped off his shoulder, leaving his arm cold and exposed. He went over and tucked the kid back up again. Orion quieted quickly, a contented expression falling across his sweet face.
A couple of hours later, Orion woke to find Ozzie had got the fire burning properly again and was cooking breakfast. Milk tablets, Ozzie found to his relief, worked perfectly. Dropped into cold water they bubbled and fizzed until they produced a rich creamy liquid, into which he mashed dry oatcakes. With that came scrambled egg and toast, thick slices cut unevenly from an iron-hard traveler’s loaf he bought at a Lyddington bakery. Tea was proper flakes brewing in a kettle; he was saving the tablets for later.
Watching the boy munching away as if he hadn’t eaten anything last night, Ozzie started to recalculate how long his supplies would last.
“I brought my own food,” Orion told him.
The kid must have been reading his mind. “You did?”
“Cured meat and traveler’s bread for sure. But none of your tablet stuff. There aren’t any in Lyddington.”
“Figures. What about a filter pump, did you bring one?”
A guilty expression flashed over his face, making the freckles bunch up. “No.”
So he showed the boy how his worked, a neat little mechanical unit that clipped onto his water bottle. Its short hose was dropped into the nearby stream, and he pumped the handle grip, pulling water through the ceramic filters. It wasn’t quite as effective at eradicating bacteria as a powered molecular sieve, but it would get rid of anything truly harmful. The kid had fun, splashing about and filling his own ancient plastic pouches from Ozzie’s bottle.
“What about toothgel?” he asked.
Orion hadn’t brought any of that, nor soap. So he loaned the boy some from his own tube, laughing at Orion’s startled expression when it started to foam and expand in his mouth. He rinsed it out as instructed, spitting furiously.
Chemistry worked here, its reactions a universal constant. When Ozzie checked his handheld array, it remained as dead as a chunk of rock. The damping field, or whatever the Silfen used, had grown progressively stronger as he approached the forest yesterday. Now, it was even affecting his biochip inserts, reducing their capacity to little more than that of a calculator. His virtual vision interface was reduced to absolute basic functions.
As a concept, it fascinated Ozzie, rousing all his old physicist curiosity. He started to ponder mathematical possibilities as they rode off down the path.
“They’re close,” Orion announced.
It was late morning, and they were riding again after giving the horse and pony a rest for a while, walking alongside them. The forest trees were darker now, pines taking over at the expense of the other varieties. Although, to counter their darkling effect, the canopy overhead was letting through a multitude of tiny sunbeams to dapple the ground. The carpet of fallen needles that covered the path gave off a sweet-tangy scent.
“How do you know?” Ozzie asked. Even the lontrus’ heavy foot pads made no sound on the spongy loam.