This time Uthacalthing did smile at Kault’s choice of words. “Perhaps we will find something of interest,” he agreed.
They resumed their journey when the sun, Gimelhai, had slipped down somewhat from its burning zenith.
The plains southeast of the Mulun range stretched like the undulating wavetops of a gently rolling sea, frozen in place by the solidity of earth. Unlike the Vale of Sind and the open lands on the other side of the mountains, here there were no signs of plant and animal life forms introduced by Earth’s ecologists, only native Garth creatures.
And empty niches.
Uthacalthing felt the sparseness of species types as a gaping emptiness in the aura of this land. The metaphor that came to mind was that of a musical instrument missing half its strings.
Yes. Apt. Poetically appropriate. He hoped Athaclena was taking his advice and studying this Earthling way of viewing the worM.
Deep, on. the level of nahakieri, he had dreamt of his daughter last night. Dream-picted her with her corona reaching, kenning the threatening, frightening beauty of a visitation by tutsunucann. Trembling, Uthacalthing had awakened against his will, as if instinct had driven him to flee that glyph.
Through anything other than tutstmucann he might have learned more of Athaclena, of how she fared and what she did. But tutsunucann only shimmered — the essence of dreadful expectation. From that glimmer he knew only that she still lived. Nothing more.
That will have to do, for now.
Kault carried most of their supplies. The big Thennanin walked at an even pace, not too difficult to follow. Uthacalthing suppressed body changes that would have made the trek easier for a short while but cost him in the long run. He settled for a loosening in his gait, a wide flaring of his nostrils — making them flat but broad to let in more air yet keep out the ever-present dust.
Ahead, a series of small, tree-lined hummocks lay by a streambed, just off their path toward the distant ruddy mountains. Uthacalthing checked his compass and wondered if the hills should look familiar. He regretted the loss of his inertial guidance recorder in the crash. If only he could be sure…
There. He blinked. Had he imagined a faint blue flash?
“Kault.”
The Thennanin lumbered to a stop. “Mmm?” He turned around to face Uthacalthing. “Did you speak, colleague?”
“Kault, I think we should head that way. We can reach those hills in time to make camp and forage before dark.”
“Mmm. It is somewhat off our path.” Kault puffed for a moment. “Very well. I will defer to you in this.” Without delay he bent and began striding toward the three green-topped mounds.
It was about an hour before sunset when they arrived by the watercourse and began setting camp. While Kault erected their camouflaged shelter, Uthacalthing tested pulpy, reddish, oblong fruits plucked from the branches of nearby trees. His portable meter declared them nutritious. They had a sweet, tangy taste.
The seeds inside, though, were hard, obdurate, obviously evolved to withstand stomach acids, to pass through an animal’s digestive system and scatter on the ground with its feces. It was a common adaptation for fruit-bearing trees on many worlds.
Probably some large, omnivorous creature had once depended on the fruit as a food source and repaid the favor by spreading the seeds far and wide. If it climbed for its meals it probably had the rudiments of hands. Perhaps it even had Potential. The creatures might have someday become pre-sentient, entered into the cycle of Uplift, and eventually become a race of sophisticated people.
But all that ended with the Bururalli. And not only the large animals died. The tree’s fruit now fell too close to the parent. Few embryos could break out of tough seeds that had evolved to be etched away in the stomachs of the missing symbionts. Those saplings that did germinate languished in their parents’ shade.
There should have been a forest here instead of a tiny, scrabbling woody patch.
I wonder if this is the place, Uthacalthing thought. There were so few landmarks out on this rolling plain. He looked around, but there were no more tantalizing flashes of blue.
Kault sat in the entrance of their shelter and whistled low, atonal melodies through his breathing slits. Uthacalthing dropped an armload of fruit in front of the Thennanin and wandered down toward the gurgling water. The stream rolled over a bank of semi-clear stones, taking up the reddening hues of twilight.
That was where Uthacalthing found the artifact.
He bent and picked it up. Examined it.
Native chert, chipped and rubbed, flaked along sharp, glassy-edged lines, dull and round on one side where a hand could find a grip. …
Uthacalthing’s corona waved. Lurrunanu took form again, wafting among his silvery tendrils. The glyph rotated slowly as Uthacalthing turned the little stone axe in his hand. He contemplated the primitive tool, and lurrunanu regarded Kault, still whistling to himself higher up the hillside.
The’ glyph tensed and launched itself toward the hulking Thennanin.
Stone tools — among the hallmarks of pre-sentience, Uthacalthing thought. He had asked Athaclena to watch out for signs, for there were rumors… tales that told of sight-ings in the wild back country of Garth…
“Uthacalthing!”
He swiveled, shifting to hide the artifact behind his back as he faced the big Thennanin. “Yes, Kault?”
“I…” Kault appeared uncertain. “Metoh kanmi, b’twuil’ph… I…” Kault shook his head. His eyes closed and opened again. “I wonder if you have tested these fruits for my needs, as well as yours.”
Uthacalthing sighed. What does it take? Do Thennanin have any curiosity at all?
He let the crude artifact slip out of his hand, to drop into the river mud where he had found it. “Aye, my colleague. They are nutritious, so long as you remember to take your supplements.”
He walked back to join his companion for a fireless supper by the growing sparkle of the galaxies’ light.
52
Athaclena
Gorillas dropped over both sharp rims of the narrow canyon, lowering themselves on stripped forest vines. They slipped carefully past smoking crevices where recent explosions had torn the escarpment. Landslides were still a danger. Nevertheless, they hurried.
On their way down they passed through shimmering rainbows. The gorillas’ fur glistened under coatings of tiny water droplets.
A terrible growling accompanied their descent, echoing from the cliff faces and covering their labored breathing. It had hidden the noise of battle, smothering the bellow of death that had raged here only minutes before. Briefly, the dinsome waterfall had had competition but not for long.
Where its fremescent torrent had formerly fallen to crash upon glistening smooth stones, it now splattered and spumed against torn metal and polymers. Boulders’dislodged from the cliffsides had pounded the new debris at the foot of the falls. Now the water worked it flatter still.
Athaclena watched from atop the overlooking bluffs. “We do not want them to know how we managed this,” she said to Benjamin.
“The filament we bunched up under the falls was pretreated to decay. It’ll all wash away within a few hours, ser. When the enemy gets a relief party in here, they won’t know what ruse we used to trap this bunch.”
They watched the gorillas join a party of chim warriors poking through the wreckage of three Gubru hover tanks. Finally satisfied that all was clear, the chims slung their crossbows and began pulling out bits of salvage, directing the gorillas to lift this boulder or that shattered piece of armor plate out of the way.