He supposed he was dying. Well, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, and he had no desire to fight it.
But if he could feel little with his busted-up body — taste nothing of the glop that was ladled into his mouth, barely sense the warm palm oil that was rubbed into his limbs-there was one thing he could still feel, one anguished pinpoint that pushed into him whenever he made out Emma’s face.
Regret.
“Regret what, Malenfant?”
“Regret I’m going to die not knowing why.”
“You’re dying because some psychopathic religious nut had you beaten to death. That’s why.”
“But why the Red Moon? Why the Fermi Paradox—”
“Malenfant, for Christ’s sake, is this the time or the place for—”
“Emma, give me a break. This is my death-bed. What other time and place is there? That damn Paradox baffled me my whole life. I thought the showing-up of this Red Moon, for sure the strangest event in human history since Joshua made the sun stand still in the sky, had to have something to do with that flaw in the universe. I guess I hoped it did. But…”
“But what?”
“It didn’t work out that way. Emma, it just got more mysterious. Nemoto saw that immediately. Not only did we suddenly find that we inhabit just one of a whole bunch of universes, there are no signs of extraterrestrial intelligence in the other universes either. Not a trace. It’s Fermi writ large — as if there is something wrong not just with this universe, but all our cosmic neighbours…”
“Malenfant, none of this matters. Not any more.”
“But it does. Emma, find the advanced guys. The ones with the light shows in the sky. That’s what you’ve got to do. Ask them what the hell is going on here. Maybe they caused it. All this, the multiple realities, the wandering Moon. Maybe they even caused Fermi, in some way. That’s what you must do, after…”
“After you’re gone? Poor Malenfant. I know what’s really bothering you. It’s not that the question is unanswered. It’s the idea that you won’t be around when the answer comes. You always did think you were the centre of everything, Malenfant. You can’t stand to think that the universe will go on without you.”
“Doesn’t everybody feel that way?”
“Actually, no, not everybody, Malenfant. And you know what? The universe will go on. You don’t have to save it. It doesn’t need you to keep space expanding or the stars shining. We’ll keep on finding out new stuff, visiting new places, finding new answers, even when you aren’t around to make it happen.”
“Some bedside manner, babe.”
“Come on, Malenfant. We are what we are, you and I. I can’t imagine us changing now.”
“I guess.”
Shadow:
She slid through the forest, stepping on roots and rocks to avoid dead leaves and undergrowth, silent save for the brush of her fur on the leaves. Her hair was fully erect, and her fungal mask seemed to glow with purpose and power.
There were three men with her. They were tense, fearful. Shadow turned back to the men and grinned fiercely, knowing how her teeth shone white under the hairless protuberance over her brow and cheeks. They grinned back, and they punched and slapped each other, seeking courage. The smallest and youngest, Shiver, absently sucked the forefinger of his right hand; it was a stump, the first two joints nipped off by Shadow.
Shadow moved forward once more, and the men followed.
She froze. She had heard the soft whimper of an infant — and there, again.
She roared and charged forward, crushing through low shrubbery.
A woman and child were in the low branches of a tree. They had been eating fruit; the forest floor beneath the tree was littered with bits of yellow skin. The woman was called Smile. She was in fact a sister of Termite’s, an aunt of Shadow. Shadow did not know this — nor would it have made any difference if she had known.
Smile tumbled out of her tree. She landed with a roll on the forest floor, got to her feet and turned to flee. But her child, less than three years old, was still in the tree. He clung to a branch, screaming. So Smile ran back, scrambled up the tree, collected the child, and dropped back to the ground. But she had lost her advantage; now the attackers were on her.
Shadow grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to the ground. Shiver joined in, kicking and stamping. Stripe grabbed the infant from his mother’s arms. He held the child by his feet and flailed him this way and that, slamming him against a tree trunk. The child was soon limp, and Stripe hurled him away, sending the little body spinning into a clump of undergrowth.
With grim determination. Smile fought against the odds. She twisted and bit Shiver hard on the shoulder. He howled. She managed to ram his body into Shadow and the others, momentarily reducing them to a tangle of flailing limbs.
That was enough of a break for Smile to get away. She scrambled into a fig tree. Stripe followed her. But Smile clambered around the branches, evading him, screaming. Now Shadow climbed up the tree, more stiffly than Stripe, for her lifetime of injuries and beatings had left their mark.
But as she approached, Smile made an almighty leap. She crashed into the branches of another tree, and tumbled to the ground. In an instant she was on her feet. She ran to the foliage where her child had fallen, picked up the limp body, and ran into the deeper woods.
Shiver pursued, but she was soon out of his reach. He ran back and forth across the bloodied forest floor, howling and throwing rocks and kicking at the trees, ridding himself of his desperate aggression.
Shadow fell on Stripe. She jabbered at him, and hailed blows on his head and shoulders. He huddled over, long arms protecting his head and chest.
For now Smile had been spared. But it was only the beginning.
Shadow’s next target was Little Boss. She took six men with her, armed with sticks and rocks, and patrolled the forest until she found him.
Little Boss was alone, drinking from a small stream. Beside him was a pile of cobbles, suitable for making sharp new tools. When he heard Shadow’s party approach, he stood straight, hair immediately erect, and snarled defiance. By this time, the newcomers” murderous aggression was well known among Little Boss’s group. But when he saw how many men had come with Shadow, Little Boss turned to run.
He was built for power, not speed.
Shiver was the first to catch him, seizing his legs and throwing him to the ground. Shadow pinned him down, sitting on his head and holding his shoulders. The other men fell on Little Boss, attacking with a savagery only impeded by the fact that they got in each other’s way.
At last Shadow and the men backed off. Charged with energy, fists clenched, mouths and stone tools stained by blood, the men ran to and fro, howling and pounding their weapons against tree trunks and rocks.
Little Boss remained motionless for a time. Then, uttering faint screams, he sat up. He had great gashes on his face, legs and back. He could not move one leg. The ground where he had lain was stained by blood and panic shit. He looked back at his assailants, who were capering and howling their rage. He opened his mouth, as if to cry defiance. But a great bubble of bloody mucus formed there, and his voice was a strangle. When the bubble broke, Little Boss fell back, rigid as a falling tree.
Shadow fell on the body immediately. She pulled it by its ankles out into the clearing, sat on its chest, and immediately began to slice away its flesh with a new stone cobble.
With degrees of reluctance or enthusiasm, the others joined her. Soon they were all feeding.
The miniature war was brief but savage.
Shadow’s only tactic was to isolate her targets and destroy them. But it was a tactic beyond the grasp of her opponents, and it worked over and over. The women, especially if burdened by infants, were easy prey. The men were picked off one by one, always by overwhelming force.