Lawrence cut the second hind leg off with his fission knife. Blood hissed and steamed as it bubbled over the radiant yellow blade.
Both of Powels legs were being squeezed by tourniquets made from bands of ice. He fell leadenly to sit on his rump, breath wheezing out of parched lips. His thigh muscles were spasming uncontrollably.
The fission blade penetrated Vorixs left mandible joint, skewering through muscle, bone, and gristle. Its tip emerged into the back of his mouth, severing a large portion of the tongue.
Powel started to gag, fighting for breath. His whole body was shaking wildly. He vomited weakly down his beard.
Vorix was emitting a harrowing whining from his ruined jaw. Sallow eyes rolled round, glazed with pain, trying to find his tormentor. Lawrence aimed a blow at each of his forelegs, slicing clean through the knees, leaving the dog with stumps.
At the far end of a murky whorled tunnel, Powel saw the sandy-haired teenager walk round in front of the dog. He spat on Vorixs squat muzzle. Not so fucking smart now, are you? Lawrence shouted. Powel could barely hear him, his voice sounded as though it was coming from the bottom of a deep rocky shaft. Want to play chase again, doggy? Lawrence did a little jig, laughing. Vorixs stumps knocked feebly against the soil in a parody of walking. The sight sent him off into another bout of laughter. Walkies! Come on, walkies!
Powel groaned with helpless fury. The affinity bond was weakening, stretching the dogs pain-lashed thoughts to a tenuous thread. He coughed some of the bile out of his mouth.
I know you can hear me, Manani, you superfuck, Lawrence called. And I hope your hearts bleeding out through these cuts. Im not going to kill your hound, not all quick and clean and neat. No, Im going to leave him here rolling round in his own shit and piss and blood. That way youll feel him dying the whole time, however long it takes. I like that idea, cos you really loved this dog. Gods Brother always takes his retribution on those who displease him. Vorix is kind of like an omen, see? I did this to a dog, think what Quinns gonna do to you.
It was raining steadily when Jay led Sango, Powel Mananis beige horse, from the lean-to at the back of the supervisors cabin which served as a stable. Mr Manani had been true to his word back on the Swithland , he had let her groom Sango, and help feed him, and take him for exercise. Two months ago, when the frantic urgency which governed Aberdale while the cabins were going up and the fields were being levelled had abated, he had taught her how to ride.
Aberdale wasnt quite the dreamy rural existence she had expected, but it was pretty nice in its own fashion. And Sango played a huge part in making it right. Jay knew one thing, she didnt want to go back to any arcology.
Or at least she hadnt before today.
Something had happened out in the jungle this morning that none of the adults would talk about. She and all the other kids knew that Carter was dead, theyd been told that much. But there had been the awful fight down by the jetty, and a lot of the women had cried, the men too though they tried to hide it. Then twenty minutes ago Mr Manani had some kind of dreadful drawn-out fit, howling and panting as he keeled about.
Things had quietened down after that. There had been a meeting in the hall, and afterwards people had gone back to their cabins. Now though she could see them congregating in the centre of the village again; they were all dressed like they did when they went hunting. Everyone seemed to be carrying a weapon.
She knocked on the front stanchion of Mr Mananis cabin. He came out dressed in navy-blue jeans, a green and blue check shirt, and a fawn waistcoat that held a lot of cylindrical power magazines for laser rifles. He carried a couple of slate-grey tubes fifty centimetres long, with pistol grips at one end. She had never seen them before, but she knew they were weapons.
Their eyes met for a moment, then Jay looked at the muddy ground.
Jay?
She glanced up.
Listen, honey. The Ivets have been bad, very bad. Theyre all funny in their heads.
Like waster kids in the arcologies, you mean?
A sad smile flickered on his lips at the bright curiosity in her voice. Something like that. They killed Carter McBride.
We thought so, she admitted.
So were going to have to catch them and stop them from doing anything like it again.
I understand.
He slotted the maser carbines into their saddle holsters. Its for the best, honey, really it is. Listen, Aberdales not going to be very nice for a couple of weeks, but afterwards itll get better. I promise. Before you know it, well be the best village on the whole tributary. Ive seen it happen before.
She nodded. Be careful, Mr Manani. Please.
He kissed the top of her head. Her hair was sprinkled with tiny drops of water.
I will be, he said. And thank you for saddling up Sango. Now go and find your mum, shes a bit upset about what happened this morning.
I havent seen Father Elwes for hours. Will he be coming back?
He stiffened his back, unable to look at the girl. Only to pick up his things. He wont be staying in Aberdale any longer. His works done here.
Powel rode Sango over to the waiting hunters, hoofs splattering in the mud. Most of them were wearing waterproof ponchos, slick with rain. They looked more worried than angry now. The initial heat of Carters death had abated, and the shock of killing the three Ivets was percolating through their minds. They were more scared for their families and their own skin than they were bothered about vengeance. But the end product was the same. Their fear of Quinn would compel them until the job was done.
He saw Rai Molvi standing among them, clutching a laser rifle beneath his poncho. It wasnt worth making an issue over. He leaned forward from the saddle to address them. First thing you should know is that my communication block is out. I havent been able to tell Schusters sheriff whats been happening here, or the Governors office in Durringham. Now those communication blocks are more or less solid chunks of circuitry with all kinds of redundancy built in, Ive never heard of one failing before. The LED lights up, so its not a simple power loss. It was working when I made my routine report three days ago. Ill leave it to you to work out the significance of it failing today.
Christ, just what are we up against? someone asked.
Were up against waster kids, Powel said. Vicious and frightened. Thats all they are. This sect crap is just an excuse for Quinn to order them about.
Theyve got guns.
They have eight laser rifles, and no spare power magazines. Now I can see about a hundred and twenty rifles just from here. They arent going to be any problem. Shoot to kill, and dont give any warning. Thats all we have to do. We dont have courts, we dont have time for courts, not out here. I sure as hell know theyre guilty. And I want to make damn sure that the rest of your kids can walk about this village without looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. Thats what you came here for, isnt it? To get away from all this shit Earth kept flinging at you. Well, a little bit got carried here with you. But today we finish it. After today there wont be any more Carter McBrides.
Determination returned to the gathering; men nodded and exchanged bolstering glances with their neighbours, rifles were gripped just that fraction harder at the mention of Carters name. It was a collective building up of nerve, absolving them of any guilt in advance.
Powel Manani watched it accumulate with satisfaction. They were his again, just like the day they came off the Swithland , before that dickhead Molvi started interfering. OK, the Ivets got split into three work parties this morning. Theres two out helping the savannah homesteads, and one lot with the hunting party to the east. Well split into two groups. Arnold Travis, you know the eastern jungle pretty well, you take fifty men with you and try and find the hunting party. Im going to ride out to the homesteads to try and warn them. I expect thats where Lawrence Dillon is headed, because thats where Quinn is. The rest of you follow after me as fast as you can, and for Christs sake dont get spread out. Once you get to the homesteads, well decide what to do next. OK, lets go.