"Men, Clave. It's inhabited."
"I see them. Treefodder, they're fighting! Just what we need, another war. Now what's that? Grad, do you see something like a moving box?"
"'Yea."
"Well?"
Gavving located a brick-shape with rounded corners and edges. It was turning in sentient fashion, moving away from the battle. A vehicle, then…big…and glittering as if made of metal or glass. Men clung to its flanks.
The Grad said, "I never saw anything like it. Starstuff."
The aft end of the box was spiky with bell-shaped structures: four at each corner and one much larger in the middle. Nearly invisible flames, not flame-colored but the blue-white color of Voy, puffed from some of the small-nostrils? The vehicle stopped its turn and surged back into the battle.
"That should do it," Clave said. Gavving turned and saw what he had been doing: setting his last jet pods to orient the turning raft, so that the underside would strike first. It seemed to be working, but the jungle was hidden now. Gavving clutched the bark, waiting…
His head was ringing, his right arm was banged up somehow, his stomach was trying to find something to reject, and he couldn't remember where he was. Gavving opened his eyes and saw the bird.
It was torpedo-shaped, about the mass of a man. It hung over him, long wings stretched out and motionless while it studied him with two forward-facing eyes in deep sockets. The other side of its head bore a saw-toothed crest. Its tail was a ribbed fan; the four ribs ended each in a hooked claw.
Gavving looked around for his harpoon. The crash had bounced it free of his hand. It was meters away, slowly turning. He reached for his knife instead and eased himself out of the greenery in which he was half-buried. He whispered, "I'm meat. Are you?" intending it as a threat.
The bird hung back. Two companions had joined it. Their mouths were long and blunt, and closed. They don't bluff Gavving thought.
A fourth bird skimmed across the green cloud, moving fast, right at his head. He scrambled for cover as the bird dipped its tail hooks into the foliage and stopped dead. Gavving stayed where he was, half under the raft. The birds watched him mockingly.
A tethered harpoon thudded into a bird's side.
It screamed. The open mouth had no teeth, just a scissors-action serrated edge. The bird set itself whirling as it tried to snap at its belly. A third eye was behind the crest, facing backward.
The rest made their decision. They fled.
With his toes locked in branchiets, Alfin reeled the bird into knife range. By then Gavving had retrieved his own harpoon. He used it to pin the bird's tail while Alfin finished the kill, a performance that left Alfin's sleeves soaked in pink blood. A wide grin stretched his wrinkles into uncustomary patterns.
"Dinner," he said and shook his head as if he'd drunk too much beer.
"I can't believe it. We made it. We're alive!"
During all the years in Quinn Tuft, Gavving couldn't remember seeing Alfin grin. How could Alfin be consistently morose in Quinn Tuft, and happy while lost in the sky? He said, "If we'd hit something solid at that speed we'd all be dead. Let's hope the luck holds."
Missing citizens emerged from the green depths. Merrill, Jayan, Jinny, Grad…Minya. Gavving whooped and gathered her in his arms.
Alfin asked, "Where's Clave?"
The others looked around. The Grad tethered himself to the bark and jumped toward the storm, with a turning motion. "I don't see him anywhere," he shouted back.
Jayan and Jinny burrowed into the foliage. Minya called, 'Wait, you'll get lost!" and prepared to follow.
"He's here."
Clave was under the bark sheet. They moved it to expose him. He was half-conscious and moaning softly. His thigh bent in the middle and white bone protruded through skin and blood.
The Grad hung back, squeamishly; but everyone was looking at him, and it was clearly the Scientist's job. He set Alfin and Jayan to holding Clave's shoulders, Gavving to pulling on the ankle while the Grad moved the bones into place. It took too long. Clave revived and fainted again before it was finished.
"That flying box," Alfin said. "It's coming here."
"We're not finished here," said the Grad.
The starstuff box fell toward them through the clear air between foliage and storm cloud. Men garbed in sky-blue clung to all four sides. The glassy end faced them like a great eye.
Clave's eyes had opened, but it didn't seem he understood. Somebody had to do something. Gavving said, "Alibi, Minya, Jinny, let's get the bark sheet out of sight, at least."
They turned it edgewise and pushed it down into the greenery. Gayving moved after it, and Minya after him, forcing their way through the thicket into dark green gloom. The foliage was dense at the surface. Underneath were open spaces and masses of springy branchiets.
"Grad?"
The Grad looked up. "Scientist."
"All right, Scientist. I need a Scientist," Alibi said. "Can you leave him for a moment?"
Clave was half-conscious and whimpering. He should be all right with two women watching him. "Call me if he starts thrashing around," he told them. He moved away, and Alibi followed.
"What's the problem?"
"I can't sleep."
The Grad laughed. "It's been a busy time. Which of us do you accuse of sleeping well?"
"I haven't slept since we reached the midpoint. We're in a jungle, we've got food and water, but Grad-Scientist, we're still falling!" Alfin's laugh surprised the Grad, it had a touch of hysteria in it.
Alibi didn't look good. His eyes were puffy, his breathing was irregular, he was as jumpy as tonight's dinner turkey. The Grad said, "You know as much about free-fall as I do. You learned it the same way. Are you about to run amok?"
"Feels that way. I'm not helpless. I killed a bird that was after Gayving." And for that moment his pride was showing.
The Grad mulled the problem. "I've got a bit of that scarlet fringe from the fans. You know how dangerous it is. Anyway, you don't want to sleep now."
Alfin glanced at the sky. The starstuff box was taking its sweet time, but…"No."
"When it's safe. And I haven't got much."
Alfin nodded and turned away. The Grad stayed where he was. He wanted solitude to nurse his jumpy stomach. He'd never set a broken bone before, and he'd had to do it without the Scientist's help.
Alibi made his way back toward Jayan and Merril and Clave. He looked back once, and the Grad was looking at the sky.
He looked back again, and the Grad was gone. Jayan screamed.
The darkness and the strange, dappled shadows made them almost invisible, even to each other. "We can hide in here," Gavving said.
Minya was nodding. "Burrow deep. Stick together. What about Clave?"
"We'll have to pull him through. What looks like a good spot?"
"None of it," Jinny said. "It would hurt him."
Gavving tracked a dense cluster of branchlets back to a single spine branch. "Cut here," he told Minya.
She didn't have room to swing. She used the sword as a saw, and it took her a hundred breaths or thereabouts. Then Gavving pushed against the freed end and found that the entire cluster moved outward as a plug. He pulled himself into open air and looked about him. "MennI! Here!"
"Good," Merril called. She and Alibi towed Clave toward the opening, moving with frantic haste. The one-eyed box was too close. The occupants must be watching them by now.
They'd have to dig in fast, get lost in the deep branchlets. But— "Where's Jayan? Where's the Grad?"
"Gone," Mernil puffed. "He's gone. Something pulled him down into the thicket."
"What?"
"Move it, Gavving!"
They got Clave inside and pulled the plug-bush closed. Gavving saw that Clave's leg had been splinted with strips of a blanket and two of Minya's arrows.