"Why?" Deyv asked.
"No time to waste breath now. I'll tell you why later. If I'm right, if it'll be obvious why I want the stones out. By the way, pick up all the torches you dropped and clean the sap off the floors. I don't want anything in here that wasn't here when we entered."
By sleep-time, the rocks were gone, and with them any trace of the travelers. Slosh told Deyv and Vana to stand back from the cylinder, and he went inside. Deyv had expected, for some reason, that Sloosh would go to the upper deck where the cube was. How he was going to do that without tipping the
"vehicle" over, Deyv didrr't know. However, Sloosh went only just past the doorway, reached up above it to press something, and then came out, rather quickly for him.
"Maybe we should get even farther away," he said.
Except for the plant-man, no one knew what to expect. Deyv had some fantasies about it, but what happened wasn't one of them.
Slowly, the cylinder collapsed, then began to fold up. The two sides straightened up, forming a flat oval.
Then a seam appeared along the middle, and it folded, folded, folded.
When this process had ceased, the cylinder had become a cube with a thin rod sticking out by an inch.
The rod was the same one Deyv had seen projecting from the power supply. The cube was almost three feet across.
Though Sloosh's face couldn't show expression, his delight was obvious. He danced around like a drunken elephant, his fingers snapping, his beak buzzing nonsense. When he regained his usual demeanor, he went to the cube and pulled on the rod. They cylinder started to unfold, but after a few seconds he pushed the rod in. It folded once more.
"Of all the ancients' inventions, this must have been the most wondrousl"
"It is indeed a great and awesome magic," Deyv said. "But what will we do with it?"
"For the time being, we'll make straps, a saddle, and a girth so I can carry it on my back," Sloosh said.
"At sleep-time, we'll use it for protection. Ifs also useful as a refuge in times of danger. I shouldn't have to explain that to you."
Deyv reddened. "I know all that. I was just wondering if perhaps ... well, maybe if it's supposed to fly, we could fly it. And then we could easily find the Yawtl."
"A good idea but most impracticable. Perhaps. In the meantime ..."
16
THERE it is," Sloosh said, pointing down. "The Yawtl's impression."
Deyv looked but of course didn't see the tracks. What he did see was a very wide valley through the center of which a river snaked. All five were standing high on the slope of a mountain. The plant-man had insisted that they climb over it so that he could get a view of a large expanse of territory. The labor had been hard but had paid off.
"The thief came around the foot of that mountain," Sloosh said. He indicated one to his left. "Then he made a dugout or a raft and went down the river to that point there." His finger jabbed toward a mountain across the valley to the right. "He abandoned his dugout or raft and went through that pass there."
Vana groaned and said, "I hope he's getting close to his home. Do you realize that we must have traveled over four hundred miles?"
"Five hundred and fifty-six to be exact," Sloosh said. "That is, if you include both horizontal and vertical travel."
Deyv didn't ask him how he could be so certain. Though the plant-man had little sense of time, he seemed to have a inborn sense of distance. Actually, Deyv's own idea of it was rather vague. A
vathakishmikl, a mile, was a measure which depended upon psychical as well as physical factors. If a half-vathakishmikl tired you as much as a full vathakishmikl did, then one length was equal to the other.
Sloosh estimated that the travel from where they were to the place at which the Yawtl had left the river would take four sleep-times. That is, approximately forty miles. But if the terrain slowed them down, then it might be fifty miles. Or even more.
As it turned out, it took them sixty miles. What delayed them was the Athmau.
They went down the mountain, built a raft with a rudder, and floated down to where the thief's trail went ashore. The path he'd taken led them to a village on a tributary of the river. After sneaking around this, they traveled on another much less used path. Two sleep-times later, they came to an open area. Long before they reached it, they heard a hubbub which made them very cautious.
From the jungle they peered out at an interesting but possibly dangerous situation.
In the midst of the clearing was a low broad hill made of a cementlike substance resembling that which the honey beetles excreted. It was dotted with numerous small holes. At the moment hordes of creatures were pouring out of them to defend themselves. These were a strange mixture, purple antlike things about a foot long and six inches high, covered all over with breathing pipes, ten- to twelve-foot-long snakes, and furry bipedal mammals. The latter were about two feet high and gray-colored except for their badgerlike faces, which were white. Their paws were wide and armed with short curving nails.
Their teeth looked like the teeth of humans.
A hundred or so human warriors, all wearing wet bark-cloth filters over their noses and mouths, were battling the hill-things. They had the light skin, thin lips, and kinky yellow hair of Vana's tribe. Deyv thought they must be from three different tribes who had banded together for the onslaught. A third of them wore feathered headdresses; another, fur caps with horns; and the rest, tall conical hats of woven reeds. All carried shields with the different tribal markings, and they fought with spears, axes, and flails.
Some carried nets, but these warriors hung behind the others until a furry biped had been seized. Then they dashed in and threw the net over the captive, tied it up, and dragged it off struggling to the edge of the clearing.
"The Athmau," Deyv said. "I've heard of them, though they live far away from my tribe. My grandfather, however, said he once brought one home."
He became aware of a musky reek and said, "That strange odor's from the Athmau. We'd better move on."
Sloosh was curious, as usual. "Why the face masks?"
"The Athmau exudes a perfume which makes those who breathe it very happy but also very indolent.
That's why the tribes are raiding. They want to bring the Athmau to their villages. They'll put them in cages and then enjoy them. The trouble is, the Athmau don't breed in captivity, and they die too soon."
There were about ten of the little animals in nets, lying together, five warriors standing guard over them.
Their captors had paid for them, however. The poisonous snakes had felled four men; the long mandibles of the antoids had severely wounded six and killed three. And the Athmau's claws had dragged down and ripped apart five.
"Why don't they just stay in the hill?" Vana said.
"If they did, they'd be smoked out. They know that, so they come out and fight. At least, that's what my grandfather said."
By now the men were outnumbered six to one. Though the flails crushed the antoids and the spears stabbed the snakes, there weren't enough men to stop the hill-things. A tall warrior wearing an orange kilt, the only such color among the raiders, blew a piercing note on a bone whistle. Immediately, the warriors turned and ran for the jungle. The netted Athmau were picked up and carried away.
However, one of the furry bipeds was being pursued by two men. It ran directly toward the hiding place of the travelers.
Deyv said, "Run!"
It was too late. Before they could get back on the path, the Athmau had burst through the foliage and was among them. Behind it came the two warriors. One of them threw his axe, and its blunt side caught the animal on the back of his head. It was an excellent throw, doing just what it was intended to do. It stunned the Athmau, which fell by Deyv's feet.