Manoso headed north with a mixed army of bachelors and felina grupos to conquer the delta region and to seize the yards, workshops, and tortuga pens. The Canton’s whole economy was based on this region, and stiff opposition was expected. There were a number of True Humans in the jungle, Maquinista himself was known to have unusual and effective weapons, and the cai‑men were an unknown quantity. Logically, as Specialists, they should side with the revolutionary forces; but past experience told Manoso that, once stirred up, the crocodile‑men would probably fight both sides indiscriminately, just for the hell of it. El Tigre had faith, however, that Manoso’s devious mind would be equal to any challenge.
El Tigre headed northwest with a strong force of grupos plus their closest males and other chosen felinos such as Torch. His target was Rangua Town, and here the fiercest fighting was expected. Rumor had it that the Town Elders had already declared martial law, that all Specialists were being interned and that defenses were being organized.
These rumors were substantiated about a kilometer further on, when the advancing army met Karina, Teressa and Runa hurrying downhill.
«They’re putting barricades across the streets,” Karina told them. «And they’ve sent word to the Palace asking for a contingent of guards.»
«Guards?» echoed Diferir nervously.
«They won’t fight in Rangua,” said El Tigre confidently. «The Lord will keep them back at the Palace. He’ll want to protect his own neck.»
«All the same, guards.…»
«The Palace …?» somebody else said. «Are we intending to attack the Palace?»
«Mordecai!» roared El Tigre. «My only hope is that True Humans have even less guts than you. Torch! Round up the men for a frontal diversion. Iolande! take your grupo and fifteen others and circle west. Attack across the sailway, near the station. Tamaril! East, and keep below the ridge. Twenty grupos. Attack through the residential areas. Now.…» He regarded them broodingly. «We don’t know what to expect. But one thing we do know — if we fail, we won’t get another chance in our lifetimes. Now, we’re not used to killing — the Examples forbid it. But just for a few hours we’re going to have to forget the Examples. Kill if you have to, but only as a last resort. Make a few examples, scare them into surrender, and take prisoners. Then stop. No looting, no vandalism. We have to live with these people afterwards.»
«And if we find Tonio?» said Torch.
«Bring him to me. I want him alive. I want to be sure he dies correctly, in the utmost pain.»
«What about the rest of us?» asked Amora, the well-built mother of a strong grupo.
«Wait with me,” said El Tigre. «I want plenty of reserves. Now, Torch, Iolande, Tamaril! Move!»
The attack on Rangua Town began.
Into the mountains
Astrud looked back on her old life, knowing she would never see it again, and the collection of shacks which was Rangua shimmered into tears. Raoul seemed to accept things better; he looked forward, up the track towards the jungle‑clad hills, and there was a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
Tonio sat beside her, somehow shrunken, the lines of sorrow and defeat radiating from his eyes so that he smiled too readily, too watery when people glanced at him. He wore the cloak tucked closely around his neck, the hood barely above his eyes; and he’d shaved off his beard and mustache as a further disguise. Not only had he lost his sailcar and his pride, but he’d been forced to lose his identity too.
Now they bumped inland on an ancient square-rigged sailcar full of strangers escaping from the rumored felino attack, with the timbers gaping so the wind whistled through — which was probably as well, because it alleviated the stink of the goats which were wandering up and down the aisle. Astrud huddled down into her cloak as a mountain-girl caught her eye. Even on this branch‑line to nowhere, they could still be recognized; and by now all Rangua must know the story of Rayo.
The mountain-girl smiled tentatively. «I think Rangua is a good place to be leaving, just now. But what takes you to Palhoa?» She was pretty. There was something about her features — her graceful neck, long eyelashes and full lips — which made a connection in Astrud’smind.
The mountain-girl was a Specialist. She had vicuna genes. In her sheltered existence Astrud had rarely encountered her race.
She instinctively pulled the hood tightly around her face as she realized for the first time that she was surrounded by llamoids — eyes heavy‑lidded, heads carried high. She hoped Raoul would have the sense to keep his mouth shut. For herself, she was not used to being among a crowd of Specialists and she found the situation oppressive as well as fearful. Once you recognized them, Specialists looked more like animals than human beings. Tonio probably didn’t notice; he stared straight ahead, lost in thought. The mountain-girl was waiting for a reply.
Astrud panicked. «My husband is surveying the old sailway above Palhoa.»
Then the girl’s companion spoke, and her attention was diverted.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Tonio asked, «Why in hell did you have to say that? She may remember, if anyone asks her.»
Her fear turned to annoyance. «Well, why are we going to Palhoa, anyway?»
«It was the Canton Lord’s idea, and it has its conveniences. I know the old track up there well.»
Raoul asked, «What kind of traction did they use?»
«Shrugleggers, mules.… Not like this line. Here, the wind always blows up the valley so the car carries big square sails for the inland run, then rolls downhill back to the coast. Above Palhoa, it’s too steep for sails.»
«Do you think everything will be all right, Tonio?» asked Astrud for the tenth time.
He gave her his watery smile. «Of course it will.»
In the valley of lakes above Palhoa, there was a mystery. There were tapirs and hoatzins, capybaras and jaguars, marmosets and seriemas, common animals, rare animals, and fish too — and there was the Dedo. All living in perfect balance, century after century, with nothing gained, nothing lost. Some lived short lives, some long. Some evolved, some held their own, some died out.
One animal was like no other, and it lived a very long time. Even the omniscient Rainbow had no record of its origin, nor of its death — so, for all we know, it may still be there. The Song of Earth mentions this animal obliquely in an early couplet:
«Above the silver ocean and below the mountain’s peak,
There dwells a sacred animal of which men rarely speak.»
The part this animal played in the story of Karina is, however, well known. At this time, the animal was known as Bantus.…
Bantus was hungry. Feeling the rumblings in his stomach he padded to the mouth of the cave and regarded the Jungle. The rain fell, washing away the scents and sounds. He sniffed, snorted and lumbered downhill, following the well-worn trail to the creek. A lone capybara, sensing the hunger of Bantus, took fright and left the trail, trotting piglike into a deeper thicket. Bright macaws watched from branches as the beast passed; they were for once silent, their plumage streaming with rain. Then a tapir, perhaps blinded by the downpour, blundered onto the trail.
And Bantus ignored the beast, almost brushing the tapir aside as he plodded along. The tapir stood stock-still on the trail for a long time afterwards, trembling with terror.
It couldn’t know that today was not Bantus’ day for tapirs.
Today was fish day. But Bantus did not know who had placed that unusual instinct in his mind. As he descended the hill he passed an overgrown stone dwelling and didn’t give it a glance, even though a face of human appearance watched him from the window.