Hunter's Run Part 5

"You possess retehue, retehue, " the alien repeated, but it was not a question G e o r g e R . R . M a r t i n " the alien repeated, but it was not a questionthis time. It took a quick step forward, and Ramon flinched, afraid that the death he'd demanded was on its way. But instead, Maneck cut him free.

At first, he could feel nothing in his arms and legs; they were as dead as old wood. Then sensation flooded back into them, burning like ice, and they began to spasm convulsively. Ramon set his face stoically and said nothing, but Maneck must have noticed and correctly interpreted the sudden pallor of his skin, for it reached down and began to ma.s.sage Ramon's arms and legs. Ramon shrunk away from its touch-again he was reminded of snakeskin, dry, firm, warm-but the alien's powerful fingers were surprisingly deft and gentle, loosening knotted muscles, and Ramon found that he didn't mind the contact as much as he would have thought that he would; it was making the pain go away, after all, which was what really counted.

"Your limbs have insufficient joints," Maneck commented. "That position would not be uncomfortable for me." It bent its arms backward and forward at impossible angles to demonstrate. With his eyes closed, Ramon could almost believe that he was listening to a human being-Maneck's Spanish was much more fluent than that of the alien in the pit, and its voice had less of the rusty timbre of the machine. But then Ramon would open his eyes and see that terrible alien face, ugly and b.e.s.t.i.a.l, only inches from his own, and his stomach would turn over, and he would have to adjust all over again to the fact that he was chatting with a monster.

"Stand up now," Maneck said. It helped Ramon up, and supported him while he limped and stomped in a slow semicircle to work out cramps and restore circulation, looking as if he was performing some arthritic tribal dance. At last, he was able to stand unsupported, although his legs wobbled and quivered with the strain.

"We have lost time this morning," Maneck said. "This is all time we might have employed in exercising our functions." Ramon could 75 75 almost imagine that it sighed. "I have not previously performed this type of function. I did not realize that you possessed retehue, retehue, and therefore failed to take all factors into account. Now we must suffer delays accordingly." and therefore failed to take all factors into account. Now we must suffer delays accordingly."

Suddenly, Ramon understood what retehue retehue must be. He was more baffled than outraged. "How could you not realize that I was sentient? You were there all the while I talked to the white thing in the pit!" must be. He was more baffled than outraged. "How could you not realize that I was sentient? You were there all the while I talked to the white thing in the pit!"

"We were present, but I had not integrated yet," Maneck said simply. It did not elaborate further, and Ramon had to be content with that. "Now that I am, I will observe you closely. You are to demonstrate the limitations to the human flow. Once we are informed, the man's path is better predicted." It gestured around them. "Here is the last of places the man was known," it said. Its voice was deep and resonant. Ramon could almost think that the thing sounded sorrowful. "We will begin here."

Ramon looked around. Indeed, there were signs of a small, improvised camp. A tiny lean-to hardly big enough to sleep in had been constructed with fresh boughs and tied together with lengths of bark. A fire pit ringed by stone showed ashes where the lawman had cooked something at the end of a fire-hardened stick. Whoever they'd sent after Ramon had spent enough time in the field to know how to survive with what came to hand. Good for him.

Maneck stood silent by the bone-colored box, the thick, fleshy sahael sahael attached to its arm. Ramon looked at it, waiting to see what strategy the thing would adopt. The alien, however, did nothing. attached to its arm. Ramon looked at it, waiting to see what strategy the thing would adopt. The alien, however, did nothing.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Ramon cleared his throat.

"Monster. Hey. Now we're here, what is it you want me to do, eh?"

"You are a man," Maneck said. "Behave as he would behave."

"He's got tools and clothes, and he doesn't have a leash on,"

Ramon said.

"Your confluence will be approximate at the beginning," Maneck said. "This is expected. You will not be punished for it. Your needs will lead you to a matched flow. That is sufficient."

"Speaking of needs and flowing," Ramon said, "I got to p.i.s.s."

"That will do," Maneck said. "Begin by achieving p.i.s.s."

Ramon smiled.

"You stay here, then, I'll go achieve p.i.s.s."

"I will observe," Maneck said.

"You want to watch me p.i.s.s?"

"We are to explore the banks which bound the man's possible channels. If this task is a necessity of his being, then I will understand it."

Ramon shrugged.

"You're just lucky I'm not shy about this kind of thing," he said, walking to the nearest tree. "There's some men couldn't get a drop out, not with you watching them, eh?"

The ground was rough, and Ramon's feet were tender. The long bath in the alien gel seemed to have softened away all his calluses. As he relieved himself against the tree trunk, he tried to make sense of the alien's behavior. The limitations of human flow, it had said. For a being so impatiently concentrated on pragmatic results, Maneck was strangely interested in Ramon's need to urinate, which ought to have struck it as irrelevant. It wasn't an activity that seemed important to hunting the fugitive. But it had not known that binding his arms behind him would discomfort him, either. Perhaps the aliens needed him to understand what the habits of a man were. He was more than a hound. Merely by being human, being human, he was a guide for them. he was a guide for them.

Ramon stood for a long moment after his bladder was empty, taking the opportunity to turn his mind to strategy. He could not refuse the aliens. The demonstration of the pain his leash could deliver had convinced him of that. But there was a long history of labor protests in which things simply took a longer time and more materi-77 als than expected. Slowdowns. Ramon might have to be on the job for these devils, but he didn't have to be a good worker. He would move slowly, explain the fine points of p.i.s.sing and s.h.i.+tting and hunting and trapping for as long as Maneck would allow it. Every hour Ramon could waste was another one that the lawman had to make his return to civilization and send help back. How things would unfold once that had happened, Ramon didn't know.

He shook his p.e.n.i.s twice as long as was truly required, then let the robe drop back down to cover his knees. Maneck's great head s.h.i.+fted, but whether this was a sign of approval or disgust, Ramon had no way to tell.

"You are complete?" Maneck asked.

"Sure," Ramon said. "Complete enough for the moment."

"You have other needs?"

"I'll need to find fresh water to drink," Ramon said. "And some food to eat."

"Complex chemical compounds which can be harvested of their potential to facilitate flow and prevent pooling," Maneck said. "This is mehiban mehiban. How will you manufacture this?"

"Manufacture? I'm not going to make it. I'm going to catch catch it. it.

Hunt for it. What is it you devils do?"

"We consume complex chemical compounds. These are ae ae euth'eloi euth'eloi. Made things. But the oekh oekh I have would not nourish you. I have would not nourish you.

How do you obtain food? I will allow you to procure it for yourself."

Ramon scratched his arm and shrugged.

"Well, I'm going to kill something. I'd try making a sling, maybe killing a flatfur or dragonjay, but I've got this f.u.c.king thing in my neck. You wouldn't want to take it out of me, just long enough I can show you how this is done?"

Maneck stood unresponsive as a tree.

"Didn't think so, monster. It's trapping, then. It might take a little longer, but it will do. Come on."

In fact, the fastest and easiest thing would have been to gather up sug beetles as he had the other night. He had seen a few even this deep under the forest canopy. Or a half hour of gathering would have gotten him enough mianberry to make a small meal; this far north, you could pick them off the trees by the handful. Feeding off the land wasn't hard. The amino acids that had built up the bio-sphere of So Paulo were almost all identical to those on Earth. But that would have been simple, and would have allowed them to move quickly on to whatever the next phase of their hunt would be. So, instead, Ramon taught the alien how to trap.

His equipment had, of course, been destroyed with his van. If the thought had truly been that he should catch his dinner easily and well, that would have enraged him. Since his intention now was to stall, it only made him peevish. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d things had destroyed his van, after all.

Ramon scrounged through the underbrush for the raw material of a snare: whipvine, a few longish sticks seasoned enough to break but green enough to bend first, a handful of So Paulo's nut equivalent-a sticky bole that smelled of honey and resin-to act as bait.

He was annoyed to find that all this hurt his fingers, which had been as tough as old leather; the syrup bath in which the aliens had soaked him must have melted away the calluses on his hands as well, leaving his fingers ill-prepared for real work. Through it all, Maneck watched in silence. Ramon found himself explaining the process as he went.

The pressure of the thing's unspeaking regard made him jumpy.

When at last Ramon had the snares in place, he led Maneck back into the underbrush to wait for some unsuspecting animal to happen by. It was unlikely to take long; the animals this far north were naive, unfamiliar with traps, never having been hunted by humans before, and so were easy to catch. Still, he would stall for as long as he could before checking the traps.

They sat well in among the branches, Maneck watching him with 79 79 what seemed sometimes like profound curiosity, sometimes like impatience, but was likely an emotion Ramon had never felt or heard named.

"The food-thing comes to you to be ended?" Maneck said in its sad, sonorous voice.

"Not if you keep making a f.u.c.king racket," Ramon whispered. "It isn't as if we're getting its consent first."

"It is unknowing? This is niedutoi niedutoi?"

"I don't know what that means," Ramon said.

"Interesting," Maneck said. "You understand purpose, and killing, but not niedutoi niedutoi. You are a disturbing creature."

"That's what they tell me," Ramon said.

"Under what circ.u.mstances do you kill?"

"Me?"

Maneck was silent. Ramon felt a stab of annoyance at the thing for spoiling the hunt, even as he reminded himself that it was all a play for time. He sighed.

"Men kill for all sorts of reasons. If someone's going to kill you, you kill them first. Or if they're f.u.c.king your wife. Or sometimes men will be so poor they have to rob someone for money. That can go too far. Or if someone declares war, then soldiers go and kill each other. Or sometimes . . . sometimes you just walk into the wrong bar and start acting like a cabron cabron where the wrong b.a.s.t.a.r.d can hear you, and he kills you for it." where the wrong b.a.s.t.a.r.d can hear you, and he kills you for it."

For a moment, he was back in the El Rey. He couldn't recall anymore what precisely it was the European had said that started things.

The details were all misty and uncertain, like a half-remembered dream. There had been a pac.h.i.n.ko machine, its tiny steel b.a.l.l.s bouncing crazily against the network of pins. And a woman with straight, black hair. It hadn't been anything the man had said to Ramon. No one had liked the pendejo pendejo. Everyone had wanted to crack the man's a.s.s the other way, but Ramon had been the one to do it.

Why did you kill him?

Ramon s.h.i.+vered. Maneck's steady gaze seemed to peer into his soul, as if every truth and lie in Ramon's long, sorry life were written on his face. A sudden rush of shame possessed him.

"You have declared war on the food-thing," Maneck intoned and Ramon's sudden guilt vanished. Maneck no more understood him than a dog could read a news feed. With an act of will, he refrained from laughing.

"No," Ramon said. "It's just an animal. I need food. It is is food. It's not killing, only hunting." food. It's not killing, only hunting."

"The food-thing is not killed?"

"Yes, okay. Fine. You kill animals to eat them if you need food,"

Ramon said. Then, a moment later: "And also if they're f.u.c.king your wife."

"I understand," the alien said and lapsed into silence.

They waited as the sun rose higher in the perfect blue sky. Maneck ate some of his oekh, oekh, which turned out to be a brown paste the consistency of mola.s.ses with a thick, vinegary scent. Ramon scratched at the place in his neck where the which turned out to be a brown paste the consistency of mola.s.ses with a thick, vinegary scent. Ramon scratched at the place in his neck where the sahael sahael anch.o.r.ed in his flesh, and tried to ignore the emptiness of his belly. The hunger grew quickly, though, and, in spite of his good intentions about stalling as long as he could, it was less than two hours later that he rose and walked out to check his catch-two gra.s.shoppers (almost identical to the lo-custs of Earth, but warm-blooded and able to nurse their young from tiny, fleshy nipples at the joints of their carapace), and a anch.o.r.ed in his flesh, and tried to ignore the emptiness of his belly. The hunger grew quickly, though, and, in spite of his good intentions about stalling as long as he could, it was less than two hours later that he rose and walked out to check his catch-two gra.s.shoppers (almost identical to the lo-custs of Earth, but warm-blooded and able to nurse their young from tiny, fleshy nipples at the joints of their carapace), and a gordita, gordita, one of the fuzzy round marsupials that the colonists called "the little fat ones of the Virgin." The one of the fuzzy round marsupials that the colonists called "the little fat ones of the Virgin." The gordita gordita had died badly, biting itself in its frenzy. had died badly, biting itself in its frenzy.

Its spiky fur was already black with thick, tarry blood. Maneck looked on with interest as Ramon removed the animals from the snares.

"It is difficult to think of this as having anything to do with food,"

it said. "Why do the creatures strangle themselves for you? Is it their tatecreude tatecreude?"

81 "No," Ramon said as he strung the bodies on the length of carrying twine. "It's not their tatecreude tatecreude. It's just something that happened to them." He found himself staring at his hands as he worked, and, for some reason, his hands made him uneasy. He shrugged the feeling away. "Don't your people hunt for food?"

"The hunt is not for food," Maneck said flatly. "The hunt is wasted on creatures such as these. How can they appreciate it? Their brains are much too small."

"My stomach is also too small, but it will appreciate them them." He stood up, swinging the dead animals over his shoulder.

"Do you swallow the creatures now?" Maneck asked.

"First they must be cooked."

"Cooked?"

"Burned, over a fire."

"Fire," Maneck repeated. "Uncontrolled combustion. Proper food does not require such preparation. You are a primitive creature.

These steps waste time, time which might be better used to fulfill your tatecreude tatecreude. Ae euth'eloi Ae euth'eloi does not interfere with the flow." does not interfere with the flow."

Ramon shrugged. "I cannot eat your food, monster, and I cannot eat these raw." He held the carca.s.ses up for inspection. "If we are to get on with me exercising my function, I need to make a fire. Help me gather sticks."

Back at the clearing, Ramon improvised a bow-starter and started a small cook fire. When the flames were crackling well, the alien turned to look at Ramon. "Combustion is proceeding," it said. "What will you do now? I wish to observe this function 'cooking.'"

Was that an edge of distaste in the alien's voice? He suddenly had a flash of how odd the process must seem to Maneck: catching and killing an animal, cutting its pelt off and pulling out its internal organs, dismembering it, toasting the dead carca.s.s over a fire, and then eating it. For a moment, it seemed a grotesque and ghoulish thing to do, and it had never seemed like that before. Hestared down at the gordita gordita in his hand, and then at his hand itself, sticky with dark blood, and the subtle feeling of wrongness he'd been fighting off all morning intensified once again. "First I must skin them," he said resolutely, pus.h.i.+ng down the uneasiness, "before I can cook them." in his hand, and then at his hand itself, sticky with dark blood, and the subtle feeling of wrongness he'd been fighting off all morning intensified once again. "First I must skin them," he said resolutely, pus.h.i.+ng down the uneasiness, "before I can cook them."

"They have skin already, do they not?" Maneck said.

Ramon surprised himself by smiling. "I must take their skin off.

And their fur. Cut it off, with a knife, you see? Way out here, I'll just throw the pelts away, eh? Waste of money, but then gra.s.shopper pelts aren't worth much anyway."

Maneck's snout twitched, and it prodded at the gra.s.shoppers with a foot. "This seems inefficient. Does it not waste a large portion of the food, cutting it off and throwing it away? All of the rind."

"I don't eat fur."

"Ah," Maneck said. It moved up close behind Ramon and sank to the ground, its legs bending backward grotesquely. "It will be interesting to observe this function. Proceed."

"I need a knife," Ramon said. When Maneck said nothing, he added, "The man would have a knife."

"You will require one also?"

"Well, I can't do this with my teeth," Ramon said.

Wordlessly, the alien plucked a cylinder from its belt and handed it to Ramon. When Ramon turned it over in bafflement, Maneck reached across and did something to the cylinder, and a six-inch silver wire sprang out stiffly. Ramon took the strange knife and began gutting the gordita gordita. The wire slid easily through the flesh. Perhaps it was the hunger that focused Ramon so intently on his task, because it wasn't until he had set the gordita gordita on a spit and begun on the first gra.s.shopper that he realized what the alien had done. on a spit and begun on the first gra.s.shopper that he realized what the alien had done.

It had handed him a weapon.

The thing had made its mistake. Now it would die for it.

He fought the sudden rush of adrenaline, struggling to keep the 83 83 blade from wobbling in his hands, to keep his hands from shaking.

Bent over the careful task of digging out the gra.s.shopper's rear gills, he glanced at Maneck. The alien seemed to have noticed nothing.

The problem was, where to strike it? Stabbing it in the body was too great a risk; he didn't know where the vital organs were, and he couldn't be sure of striking a killing blow. Maneck was larger and stronger than he was. In a protracted fight, Ramon knew, he would lose. It had to be done swiftly. The throat, he decided, with a rush of exhilaration that was almost like flying. He would slash the knife as deep across the alien's throat as he could. The thing had a mouth and it breathed, after all, so there had to be an air pa.s.sage in the neck somewhere. If he could sever that, it would only be a matter of remaining alive long enough for the alien to choke to death on its own blood. It was a thin chance, but he would take it.

"Look here," he said, picking up the body of the gordita gordita. With its legs and scales cut away, its flesh was soft and pink as raw tuna.