Hunter's Run Part 11

"I will focus on my own repair for a time. When proceeding will cause no further damage, we will locate the man."

"Well," Ramon said, nodding, relief and pleasure flus.h.i.+ng through him. "All right, then! Good you grew some f.u.c.king huevos huevos. We'll track 135 135 him down on foot. We can do that."

"Is he he like this as well?" the alien asked. like this as well?" the alien asked.

"Like what?"

"You are not coordinated in your thoughts," the alien said. "Your tatecreude tatecreude is unfocused, and your nature is p.r.o.ne to is unfocused, and your nature is p.r.o.ne to aubre aubre. You comprehend killing and will, but not niedutoi niedutoi. You are flawed at your core, and if you were a kii kii hatchling, you would be reabsorbed. You attempt to separate and also to rejoin. Your flow is always in conflict with itself, and the violence of this confuses your proper function but also overcomes boundaries that would otherwise restrict you. Is this what the man is like, or are you continuing to deviate?" hatchling, you would be reabsorbed. You attempt to separate and also to rejoin. Your flow is always in conflict with itself, and the violence of this confuses your proper function but also overcomes boundaries that would otherwise restrict you. Is this what the man is like, or are you continuing to deviate?"

Ramon looked into the alien's uninjured eye, trying to make sense of what it had said. Flow and conflict, violence and restriction. Belonging and not belonging. Or maybe he was the one who'd brought that up.

"No, monster," he said at last. "It's not deviation. I've always been like this."

Chapter 12.

After an hour, the alien heaved itself to its feet, with a ratcheting sigh that sounded like a length of chain being dropped through a hole. "We proceed," it said grimly, and gestured to Ramon to take the lead.

It took a little more than an hour of pacing slowly around the meadow's edge to find the other man's trail. Through the long hours of the morning and into the afternoon, Ramon took point, the sahael sahael trailing behind him to Maneck's slow, steady plodding. It would have been a harder thing if Ramon hadn't known the kind of tricks he himself would have employed to create a false trail. Twice they came upon what looked like a mistake on the other man's part-a muddy footprint leading up onto a stony ridge, a length of roughened ground where he might have lost control as he went down a slope. trailing behind him to Maneck's slow, steady plodding. It would have been a harder thing if Ramon hadn't known the kind of tricks he himself would have employed to create a false trail. Twice they came upon what looked like a mistake on the other man's part-a muddy footprint leading up onto a stony ridge, a length of roughened ground where he might have lost control as he went down a slope.

Ramon guided them past the red herrings easily.

137 The nature of the forest changed as they walked. On the higher ground near the mountains, the trees were all iceroot and pine a.n.a.logs. The farther they moved toward the river, the more exotic the foliage became. Wide-branched perdida perdida willows with black trunks shaped like half-melted women; towering willows with black trunks shaped like half-melted women; towering pescados blancos, pescados blancos, named for the paleness of their leaves and the oceanic scent of their sap; half-mobile colonies of coral moss with bright pink skeletons peeking out from beneath the rich green flesh. The weariness and the throbbing of his knee seemed to fall away from Ramon as he caught his stride. named for the paleness of their leaves and the oceanic scent of their sap; half-mobile colonies of coral moss with bright pink skeletons peeking out from beneath the rich green flesh. The weariness and the throbbing of his knee seemed to fall away from Ramon as he caught his stride.

It felt almost as if he knew beforehand where he was going, where the other Ramon had gone before him. He almost forgot Maneck's lumbering form walking behind him, matching his path perfectly to avoid catching the sahael sahael on two different sides of the same tree. on two different sides of the same tree.

A flatfoot blatted at him as he pa.s.sed, scolding him with a noise like an annoyed oboe. The thin, gnawed bones of a kyi-kyi lay scattered at the base of a small cliff, pale as the slats of the yunea yunea. The other Ramon was roughly following the creek that had run by the meadow where he'd set his trap. The water was an infallible guide, and though there was no trail beside it, Ramon found they were rarely out of earshot of its chuckling flow. A sense of peace infused him, and he found himself smiling. The sun rose, the temperature inched up. If he'd been wearing a s.h.i.+rt, Ramon would have been tempted to take it off and tuck it into his belt, not because he was overheated but only because the air would feel good against his skin.

At last, untypically, Maneck called for a halt. Its skin was ashen gray, and it seemed almost unsteady on its feet.

"We will rest here," it said. "It is necessary to recuperate."

"For a little while," Ramon said. "We can't let him get too far ahead. If he gets to the river . . . well, if he gets to the river, he'll have to take the time to build some kind of raft. And with a f.u.c.ked-up hand, so I guess that could take him a while. But if he does get outon the river, we'll never catch him. We should have just used your flying box to get downstream. We could have just waited for him to drift by."

"This suggestion is of no effect. We did not, therefore there can be no previous shall. Your language violates the nature of time. We must rest, here."

It was a good site. The brook pooled here into a tiny lake. The afternoon sun glittered silver on its surface. A low, gray-green ground cover made a wide, soft place to rest. When Ramon lay back, the bruised leaves smelled like basil, like nutmeg, like nothing he had a name for. Maneck trundled to the water's edge and looked out before closing its eyes. The red, wounded one still had a bright slit where the lid no longer entirely closed.

From where he lay, Ramon could turn his head and put one eye level with top of the ground cover and see how the patterns of sun and wind on the lake mirrored the waving of the tiny silver leaves. It took him a few minutes to spot the hidden grave.

It was at the edge of the clearing, near a small waterfall where the lake once again became a brook. A swath of the ground cover stood higher than the surrounding plants. It was no longer than Ramon's forearm, no wider than his spread hand. He walked to the anomaly, the sahael sahael tugging at his throat. The ground, he saw, had been dug up, the plants removed and then laid back on top of the tiny excavation when it was done. Ramon felt a moment's unease. It seemed like the thing a man would do-the other Ramon. As if there was something buried here he wanted to hide, but what would that be? There hadn't been anything in his field pack precious enough to preserve. tugging at his throat. The ground, he saw, had been dug up, the plants removed and then laid back on top of the tiny excavation when it was done. Ramon felt a moment's unease. It seemed like the thing a man would do-the other Ramon. As if there was something buried here he wanted to hide, but what would that be? There hadn't been anything in his field pack precious enough to preserve.

Maybe a note? Some written record that would expose the aliens?

But who would ever find it here?

With only a moment's hesitation-might he have forgotten how many coring charges had been in the pack or might the trap in the meadow have only used two?-Ramon dug his fingers into the soft 139 139 soil. Hardly an inch beneath the surface, he touched flesh. When he pulled his hand back in disgust, his fingertips were red with blood.

A flatfur, skinned and raw and buried hardly deep enough to make any difference from leaving the little body openly on the ground.

He considered the corpse, and remembered the skins at the other Ramon's first camp. Whatever the man was doing, it was intentional, and he'd planned it back that long ago, when traps were on his mind.

Ramon lifted the thing with a branch broken from the nearest tree.

There seemed to be no mechanism a.s.sociated with it-no sharpened sticks or knives. He might have poisoned the meat, but it seemed unreasonable that he might expect the alien to eat it. What was the man-his other self-thinking?

Ramon took the dead animal by its thin legs, walked it to the lake, and flung it out into the water. The body sank like a stone. Maneck's eyes remained closed, its stance still as a statue and as unresponsive. Ramon debated for a moment. He could wake the thing and tell it what he had found, or else keep the other Ramon's secret. The strange animal offering made him uncomfortable; his first impulse was to talk about it. But if it was part of his twin's plot to defeat the aliens, perhaps it would be better to hold back.

Maneck's eyes flickered open. "I can go on no more today," it said.

It actually sounded apologetic, perhaps even ashamed. "I am too weak. I must recuperate further."

"That's okay," Ramon said. He felt almost sorry for it. How badly injured was it? Was it dying? "It'll be dark soon anyway. We might as well camp for the night."

Maneck remained quiescent through the rest of the day and into the night. Ramon broke branches and fronds to make himself a lean-to, the sahael sahael stretching to accommodate his movements. When night fell, he roused Maneck long enough to scoop water from a tiny creek and find a double handful of sug beetles. The alien didn't ask about his change in diet, and Ramon didn't volunteer any information. stretching to accommodate his movements. When night fell, he roused Maneck long enough to scoop water from a tiny creek and find a double handful of sug beetles. The alien didn't ask about his change in diet, and Ramon didn't volunteer any information.

When the beetles were reduced to their empty, colorful sh.e.l.ls, Ramon lay back on the soft ground, looking up into the vast starscape of night. The small fire he'd made to boil water for was.h.i.+ng out his wound and cooking had fallen to coals and ashes. In other circ.u.mstances, it would have been a perfect night. In the distance, something called-an animal or bird or insect that might never have been seen by human eyes. The sound was high and fluting, and a moment after it came, two more answered it. Another memory filled his awareness.

Elena in her apartment. They had had one of their first fights over his habit of camping outside the van. She had been certain that a wild animal would find him and kill him in the darkness. She'd had a friend taken by redjackets, and she claimed to suffer nightmares.

He'd been sleeping with her for a month and hadn't seen evidence of it, but when he said so, she only got angrier.

The argument had ended with her throwing a kitchen knife at him. He'd slapped her. Afterward they'd screwed.

Far above him, a meteor streaked across the sky, burning and vanis.h.i.+ng in the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat. The Sick Gringo peered down on them from the stars, and, on the horizon, the Stone Man was beginning to rise.

He knew she was crazy. Elena was the kind of woman who wound up killing herself or her lover or her children, and he didn't love her any more than she loved him. It was all perfectly clear to him, and also totally unimportant. People, he decided, didn't come together from love or hatred. They came together because they were the kind of people who fit. She was a crazed b.i.t.c.h. He was a drunk and a killer.

They deserved each other.

Except he wasn't a drunk when he was here. In the field, he was sober as a priest. He was a better man out here. His mind was growing muzzy and losing itself in sleep when the alien jerked to attention. Ramon sat up.

"What is it?" he whispered.

141 "Something is observing us," Maneck said.

A chill went up Ramon's spine. There were enough real real monsters waiting out here in the bush that So Paulo featured relatively few myths about duppies and mothmen and mysterious unknown creatures. Ghosts were a different story, though. There were plenty of ghosts here-from the ghost of Ugly Pete, a prospector who wandered the night looking for a replacement for the head he'd lost in a mine accident, to Black Maria, who appeared to men at the moment of their deaths. One cult in Little Dog believed that So Paulo was where the dead of Earth went when they died. So the night here swarmed with ghosts, like moths around a light, and out here in the dark wilderness, that was not a good thing to think about-although, of course, monsters waiting out here in the bush that So Paulo featured relatively few myths about duppies and mothmen and mysterious unknown creatures. Ghosts were a different story, though. There were plenty of ghosts here-from the ghost of Ugly Pete, a prospector who wandered the night looking for a replacement for the head he'd lost in a mine accident, to Black Maria, who appeared to men at the moment of their deaths. One cult in Little Dog believed that So Paulo was where the dead of Earth went when they died. So the night here swarmed with ghosts, like moths around a light, and out here in the dark wilderness, that was not a good thing to think about-although, of course, he he didn't believe in such things. Whatever was out there in the dark, it was more likely to be a real physical creature than a ghost. didn't believe in such things. Whatever was out there in the dark, it was more likely to be a real physical creature than a ghost.

With that thought, Elena's terror of redjackets and chupacabras chupacabras abruptly returned to Ramon, and he rose, moving closer to the huge alien. He closed his eyes for the s.p.a.ce of twenty breaths, adapting them to darkness, then scanned the meadow's edge. It was dark enough that he couldn't see anything directly. Only his peripheral vision would pick out movement from the gloom beneath the trees. abruptly returned to Ramon, and he rose, moving closer to the huge alien. He closed his eyes for the s.p.a.ce of twenty breaths, adapting them to darkness, then scanned the meadow's edge. It was dark enough that he couldn't see anything directly. Only his peripheral vision would pick out movement from the gloom beneath the trees.

"There," he whispered. "Just to the right of the white-barked tree.

In that bush."

Maneck did something complex with its arm. A flash of light extended from its hand, and the bush exploded in a ball of fire. Ramon jumped back.

"Come," Maneck said, and began moving forward. Ramon hung back half a pace, struggling between curiosity, fear of whatever was in the trees, and unease at his alien captor's weapon. He had thought the thing was unarmed after the yunea yunea's crash. It was the sort of mistake that would get him killed if he wasn't more careful.

The corpse at the foot of the tree, twisted in sudden agony and scorched black on its spine, was a jabali rojo, jabali rojo, something like a boar G e o r g e R . R . M a r t i n something like a boarthat had decided to be a fox instead halfway through its evolution; the ornate tusks at the sides of its open, lifeless mouth were better suited for impressing female jabali jabali than attacking men or aliens. than attacking men or aliens.

"It's nothing," Ramon said. "It was no danger to us."

"It might have been the man," Maneck said. Was there regret in its tone? Relief? Fear? Who could say?

When they returned to the modest camp, Ramon lay back down, but found it hard to sleep. His mind worked variation after variation on his new circ.u.mstances. Maneck was still well-armed. The other Ramon didn't have a pistol or any more coring charges. He tried to imagine ways in which he might be able to give his other self an edge-some chance that would make his own freedom possible.

And what then?

He found himself staring at Maneck, his strange alien shape sil-houetted against the cold stars like some pagan idol dedicated to unimaginable G.o.ds. Before long, he found himself beginning to drift.

In his torpor, he realized that the alien alien had been the one learning all this time-how a man ate, how he p.i.s.sed, how he slept. had been the one learning all this time-how a man ate, how he p.i.s.sed, how he slept. Ramon Ramon had learned nothing. For all his strategy and subterfuge, he knew hardly more about the alien than when he'd first woken in darkness. had learned nothing. For all his strategy and subterfuge, he knew hardly more about the alien than when he'd first woken in darkness.

He would learn. If he had been created as the thing said, then, in a way, Ramon was part alien himself-the product of an alien technology. He was a new man. He could learn new ways. He would come to understand the aliens, what they believed, how they thought. He would leave no tool unused.

Sleep stole into him, taking him gently down below consciousness, his determination to know know still locked in his mind like a rat in a pit terrier's teeth. Ramon Espejo felt dreams lapping at his mind like water at the bank of a river, and at last let them come. They were strange, dreams such as Ramon Espejo had never dreamed before. still locked in his mind like a rat in a pit terrier's teeth. Ramon Espejo felt dreams lapping at his mind like water at the bank of a river, and at last let them come. They were strange, dreams such as Ramon Espejo had never dreamed before.

But, after all, he was not Ramon Espejo.

Chapter 13.

In his dream, he was within the river. He had no need to breathe, and moving through the water was as simple as thinking. Weightless, he inhabited the currents like a fish, like the water itself. His consciousness s.h.i.+fted throughout the river as if it were his body. He could feel the stones of the riverbed where the water smoothed them, and the s.h.i.+ft, far ahead, where the banks turned the flow one way and then another. And farther, past that, to the sea.

The sea. Vast as a night sky, but full full. The flow s.h.i.+fting throughout, alive and aware. Ramon floated down through the waters until he came near the dappled bottom and it swam away, the back of a levia-than larger than a city and still insignificant in the living abyss.

And then he was also the abyss.

Ramon dreamed of flow. Meaningless syllables took on significance and pa.s.sed back into nonsense. Insights as profound as loveand sleep moved through him, and left him filled with a terrible awe.

The sky was an ocean, and the flow filled the s.p.a.ce between stars. He followed the flow for hundreds or thousands of years, swimming between the stars, his belly heavy with generations yet unborn, searching for refuge, for someplace safe, safe, away from pursuit, where he could hide and fulfill his destiny. And behind him, relentlessly pursuing, was something black and ominous, calling out to him in a voice at once terrible and seductive. Ramon tried not to listen to that terrible voice, tried not to let it pull him back. The beauty of the flow, the power of it, the deep and wordless promise; he fought to fill his mind with this and not think of the thing behind him, the thing that was reaching out toward him, dead tendrils still stinking with blood. away from pursuit, where he could hide and fulfill his destiny. And behind him, relentlessly pursuing, was something black and ominous, calling out to him in a voice at once terrible and seductive. Ramon tried not to listen to that terrible voice, tried not to let it pull him back. The beauty of the flow, the power of it, the deep and wordless promise; he fought to fill his mind with this and not think of the thing behind him, the thing that was reaching out toward him, dead tendrils still stinking with blood.

Only the act of thinking itself gave the thing power; awareness of it, even in the act of repudiation, gave it reality.

Then, while he was still dreaming, something caught him. A powerful eddy threw him in a direction he could not name, back to the dim, h.e.l.lish place from which he had struggled to escape.

Abruptly, there was a dead sun above him, hanging gray in an ashen sky. This was his home, the place of his hatching, his source, as rivers sprang from a glacier. His heart was tight with dread; he knew what was coming and also did not.

Around him were alien forms, as familiar as lovers. The great pale beast in the pit that had counseled him before this desperate hunt began. The small, bluish forms of kait kait eggs, now destined never to hatch. Yellow-fringed eggs, now destined never to hatch. Yellow-fringed mahadya mahadya and half-grown and half-grown ataruae ataruae still bent at the spine. (These were not words that Ramon knew, and yet he knew them.) All of the young beyond redemption, crushed, lifeless. He was Maneck, still bent at the spine. (These were not words that Ramon knew, and yet he knew them.) All of the young beyond redemption, crushed, lifeless. He was Maneck, athanai athanai of his cohort, and these dead that touched him, that polluted the flow, were of his cohort, and these dead that touched him, that polluted the flow, were his his failing. His failing. His tatecreude tatecreude was unfulfilled, and each of these beautiful things had fallen into illusion because he had failed to bear the weight of truth. was unfulfilled, and each of these beautiful things had fallen into illusion because he had failed to bear the weight of truth.

With a sorrow as profound as any Ramon had ever felt-more 145 145 than the loss of his mother and his Yaqui father, more than the heartbreak of first love-he began to eat the dead, and with every corpse that he took into himself, he became less real, more lost in aubre aubre and sin, more fully d.a.m.ned. and sin, more fully d.a.m.ned.

But there was no end of them. With every tiny body he consumed, they they killed a thousand more. The screaming blackness that had followed him in flight began here, opened here like a box whose lid lifted forever, continually revealing the horror that would never end. killed a thousand more. The screaming blackness that had followed him in flight began here, opened here like a box whose lid lifted forever, continually revealing the horror that would never end.

The eaters, the flowless ones, the enemy. They saw the great boulder-shaped bodies, heard the strange, piping voices raised in praise of the slaughter, saw the hatchlings lifeless and crushed beneath the vast machines. s.h.i.+ps hung in the air like birds of prey.

I know that s.h.i.+p, Ramon thought. Ramon only, and not Maneck. Ramon thought. Ramon only, and not Maneck.

I've been on on that s.h.i.+p. that s.h.i.+p.

With a shriek that was both his and Maneck's, Ramon awoke.

Maneck crouched beside him, its long arms lifting him with something between tenderness and anger.

"What have you done?" the alien whispered, and, as it did, it seemed somehow less alien, lost and frightened and alone.

"Yes, gaesu, gaesu, " Ramon mumbled, hardly knowing what he was saying. "Prime contradiction! Very bad." " Ramon mumbled, hardly knowing what he was saying. "Prime contradiction! Very bad."

"You should not have been able to use the sahael sahael this way," Maneck said fretfully. "You should not have been able to drink of this way," Maneck said fretfully. "You should not have been able to drink of my my flow. flow.

You are diverging from the man. It threatens our function. You will not do this again, or I will punish you!"

"Hey," Ramon said, shaking his head, coming back to himself with a start. "You're the one who put this f.u.c.king thing in my neck!

Don't blame me me."

Maneck blinked its strange orange eyes and seemed to settle back, subtly defeated. "You are correct," Maneck said after a long pause.

"Your language allows for deception, but your partic.i.p.ation in my flow was not willed. The failure is mine. I am sick and injured, or Iwould not have lost control of the sahael sahael. Still, the fault is mine."

Its voice surprised and confused Ramon. It was still deep and sorrowful, but there was something else in it-a sense of regret and dread that couldn't have come entirely from Ramon's imagination.

He wondered whether the sahael sahael was still leaking some signal from the alien's mind into his own. Ramon felt as if he'd walked in on a weeping man. In his own discomfort, he shrugged. was still leaking some signal from the alien's mind into his own. Ramon felt as if he'd walked in on a weeping man. In his own discomfort, he shrugged.

"Don't let it bother you," he said. "It wasn't something you meant to have happen either."

"You must not diverge any further," Maneck said, almost plead-ingly. "Your mind is twisted and alien. And that is as it should should be. You will cease to diverge from the man. You will not integrate with me any further. We will wait here and hunt him. If he does not reach his hive, there will be no be. You will cease to diverge from the man. You will not integrate with me any further. We will wait here and hunt him. If he does not reach his hive, there will be no gaesu gaesu. You must not must not diverge any further." diverge any further."

"I won't, then. Don't worry. I'm still plenty twisted and alien."

Maneck didn't reply.

Around them, the sounds of night slowly began to come back as the animals and insects frightened by their raised voices began tentatively to return to their songs and courts.h.i.+ps and hunts. It occurred to Ramon to wonder whether the other Ramon had heard, if he was close enough to know now that the coring charges hadn't finished off his pursuers. But for that to be true, he would have to be very close, yet Ramon and Maneck had slept through most of the night unmolested by anything other than jabali jabali and ugly dreams. and ugly dreams.

The other Ramon would not have missed a chance to attack them in their sleep- he he would not have-and so he must not be that close. would not have-and so he must not be that close.

He was still out there in the forest somewhere, and the job of hunting him down was still ahead of them. But, as he now knew, theirs was not the only hunt.

"The Silver Enye," Ramon said tentatively. "The big, ugly, boulder-shaped things."