The pod bumped wood with Clave behind it. He turned it loose, clutched bark, and made his way toward Merril with his crossbow ready. He saw blue against storm cloud sky, fired a bolt through one man, and drew his harpoon as the other came at him with a sword.
The copsik runner came too fast. Clave batted him in the face with the crossbow handle and, as he recoiled, stabbed him in the throat.
Merril was making her way around the curve of the bark. He followed her. She stopped and crouched a moment before he saw the carrier, outward along the trunk. Copsik runners were all over it.
He moved up beside her. She said, "All right, why aren't they killing us with that scientific thing?"
"Good question." Clave watched Anthon's team launching crossbow bolts from around the curve of the wood. The carrier's guardians fired back, not very successfully.
He said, "Forget it. They aren't using it. They are using those wooden boxes to get reinforcements. Let's—"
"Cut the lines."
Two lines as thick as Clave's arm ran parallel along the trunk. The last box was on its way in, nearly gone from sight. Another box must be rising. Clave and Merril made their way to the nearest line and began to chop at it.
Six men and a silver thing were coming into footbow range. Clave and Merril set bark sheets to protect themselves. Clave stared at the silver man. It was as if he were trying to remember a nightmare: a man made of starstuff, with a blank ball forahead. Clave fired at it until he saw a crossbow bolt strike and bounce away.
There were feathered harpoons in his shield and Merril's. Clave saw three tiny things like thorns strike her shield in a line aimed at her bare head.
He yelled. She ducked. Thorns spat into the trunk. She said, "Oh. The silver man."
"You know him?"
"Yes…keep chopping…he was with the copsik runners in Carther States. We don't have anything to breech that armor."
Another box had come into sight when the line parted. That box began to drift. Men spilled loose and flew in curves, pod-propelled, mpking for the trunk. They seemed too far in to do anything useful. The other line had gone slack. Merril said, "It's a loop. We don't have to cut the other one."
"Then let's get out. There was a cable running outward—"
"No. Let's go join the victory party. Quick, or we'll be left behind."
"Victory-?" Then Clave saw what she meant.
Green-clad warriors clustered round the carrier. Some were crawling into the doors. Men in blue floated about it with the looseness of dead men. Live copsik runners had retreated around the curve of the trunk to wait for reinforcements.
It looked like the war of the carrier was over. But other copsik runners were coming too near. Clave had made a lucky shot: there were five now, plus the silver man.
Ordon died with a bolt peeking through his chest. The Grad saw his face through the window…but even if Ordon could have heard him, there was nothing left to say. He turned back to the yellow display.
He had five floating rectangles in the bow window: aft view, dorsal, ventral, and both sides. He caught glimpses of men in blue, men and women in green; impossible to tell who was winning.
Three Navy men moved into the cover of the drive motors. The Grad touched blue dashes. Flames burst near them. They yelled, threw themselves clear, floundered to orient themselves…and one had a bolt through his hip.
Lawri screamed, "Murdererl"
"Some of us don't like being copsiks," the Grad said. "Some of us don't even like copsik runners."
"Kiance and I never treated you with anything but kindness!"
"That's true enough. What have you done for the rest of Quinn Tribe? Did you forget that I had a tribe?"
"Your tribe is deadi Your tree is torn apart! We could have been your tribe, you treefeeding mutineer you!"
The Grad had no particular urge to stop her mouth. Lawri's accusations only echoed those in his own mind. He had made his decisions.
So he spoke without heat. "Do you know what's been happening to our women? Gavving might have had permission to visit his wife thirtyodd days from now, but any male citizen had rights to her any time he liked. Now she's pregnant. She doesn't know who the father is, and I don't either."
Lawri said, "They'll kill you. Shall I tell you what the penalty is for mutiny?"
"Feel free, but I notice the line of argument has shifted."
She told him anyway. It sounded dreadful enough: good reason to keep the doors closed.
He had found the infrared display. It showed him red dots in along the trunk. He cut the infrared out and recognized Clave and Merril, and Navychasingthem…includingwhathadtobeadwarfinapressure suit.
Clave and Merril! Then the Carthers were actually on his side. He had wondered.
The green-clad warriors rushed the carm. When the Navy retreated he was able to wrap one in flame, not as a casual killing but as a signal to the Carthers. I'm with you! For it was Carthers who now swarmed the carm, and Navy who retreated around the trunk.
The Grad opened two yellow lines with his fingertips. He turned to greet the tall, bloody jungle giants.
Gavving was on his feet, held upright by two men, before he even started to wake up. He said, "What?"
"We need pedalers," someone said.
Four Navy men helped three sleepy copsiks out of the barracks and up through the tuft. Gavvmg held his temper and Horse took it with typical docility, but Alfin was still protesting as they broke through into sunlight. "I'm the treemouth tender's assistant! Not a treefeeding pair of legs—"
"Listen, you. We're sending men up to the Citadel as fast as we can. We've worked the regular team half to death. You'll take your place and pedal with the rest!"
"And carry out my regular duties too? I'll be half-dead! What do I tell the Supervisor?"
"You board that bicycle on you'll be telling your Supervisor where your testes went. Just before the Holidays too!"
The copsiks on the platform were sheathed in sweat, it drifted in droplets from their hair; they panted like dying men. The Navy men helped three of them down, wincing at the soggy touch. Other Navy men were boarding the elevator.
Half the sky was textured green.
The jungle! The jungle had come to London Tree!
Only three Navy men remained. One was an officer; Gavving recognized him, and he carried a piece of old science, a talking box. The rest had entered the elevator. Gavving was lifted into the saddle. He started pedaling. The elevator rose.
The jungle had attacked London Tree. The jungle was mobile. Who would have guessed? The green cloud was awesomely close…and receding.
He should be doing something! But what? Armed men were watching.
The elevator was tens of klomters above him now, and Gavving was gasping. He felt the change before he saw it. Suddenly it was easier to pedal. The grating whine of the bicycle gears rose half an octave. He looked up.
The elevator box was turning, falling. Blue shapes spilled out and made for the trunk. One was too slow. When he reached the trunk he was moving too fast; he bounced away, spinning like a broken thing, and continued to fall. But the box was falling faster.
"Stop pedaling. Hold your places," the officer ordered.
The invaders had cut the cable. Now what? In takes you east. The box wouldn't hit here; it would strike farther east along the branch, but where? Gavving pictured the massive wooden structure smashing through diffuse cottony foliage. "Officer? Suppose that thing hits the pregnant women's complex?"
"It's under the branch," the man said. "Minm…it could hit somebody, though. Damn, there's the school complex! Karall Move east along the top of the branch and get everyone underneath. Don't miss the examination hut. Docking section too. Then get under yourself, if you're fast enough."