“All ready. If you would care to try it out …”
Angel made a few tentative back-and-forth movements along the lip of the tent. Then suddenly it was darting off on a complex three-dimensional pattern of zig-zags, racing back and forth over the uneven uppermost layer of the vegetation like a water skier.
“Stop playing around, Angel,” said Chan over his communications pack. “We have to be on our way.”
He was beginning to feel like the disciplinarian of the group, the one who always had to say no. The others didn’t seem to worry at all! Maybe that was the real difference between humans and the rest of the Stellar Group — if history was anything to go by, humans had always had plenty to worry about.
Angel came skimming and diving back to the side of the tent, executing a final mid-air roll and loop before landing. The others were ready and waiting. As they set out for the shaft one half of Shikari bade a solemn farewell to the part that would remain behind. Chan felt sure that the Tinker was doing it for his benefit. Shikari explained that although there were seldom more than a quarter of the total number of components clumped to form a single body at any one time, the point was that they were always there, always available to attach whenever they were needed. This physical separation into two major pieces would be a unique and unpleasant event.
“Imagine going off on a journey without your legs or your arms,” said Shikari. “Or imagine Angel being separated into the Chassel-Rose and the Singer. Well, it’s just as bad for us to be split like this.”
Chan was not persuaded, particularly since once they were on the way the Tinker seemed in excellent spirits. A steady two-way stream of individual components moved along the tunnel, providing a continuous link between the two halves of the composite. Chan began to wonder how long a connected chain of single components could be. With, say, ten thousand components, each ten centimeters long … that would stretch for a kilometer. But the neuronal inter-connections in such a linear array would be minimal. Chan doubted that a Tinker would actually be able to think much in such a mode.
Angel was leading the way, gliding silently along the curved tunnel with all sensors operating. After about twenty minutes the green bulk stopped and turned back to the others. “Something moves in the tunnel ahead,” said Angel softly. “We are very close to the location that S’greela described.”
A handful of Tinker components separated and winged their way down the tunnel past Angel. They returned a few seconds later, and attached to form a chain between Angel and Shikari.
“It is the form,” said Angel. “The same form that S’greela saw. A long body and no real legs, feeding at the tunnel wall.”
“Allow me,” said S’greela. The Pipe-Rilla eased past Angel and went bounding forward down the spiral tunnel. The others heard a thresh of limbs and a high-pitched squeak. Chan led the way down the shaft, pointing his light ahead. He found S’greela holding something firmly around its middle section, while all the rest of the animal clung firmly to the tunnel wall.
Chan walked forward along the full length of the body. It was enormous, a straw-colored multi-segment monster over a meter across and better than ten meters long. No wonder S’greela had not been able to bring it back to the tent!
Despite its size the animal made no attempt to attack, or even to defend itself. The head was eyeless and dark-red, equipped with a broad slash of a mouth big enough to bite Chan in two. It was still eating steadily, chomping on vegetation that it clipped from sprouting sections of the tunnel walls. As Chan came close to it the big head turned slowly towards him. He heard a shrill series of squeaks and whistles, so high and loud that they hurt his ears. They came from a second broad slit set a few inches above the mouth.
Angel advanced to Chan’s side, and the communicator attached to its mid-section gave out an experimental series of similar squawks and squeaks.
“We are only imitating at the moment,” said Angel. “But we think that it is a language, even if a primitive one. We assume that it arises as a modulation of ultrasonic navigation signals employed within the deep tunnels — a natural development for creatures that live mostly in darkness. But before we can be sure we must have more samples of its sounds. Hold it tightly, S’greela. This may take some time.”
Angel moved closer to the head, reached out a lower frond, and poked the creature gently. The monstrous caterpillar body struggled harder, and the head turned to face Angel. There was a longer series of squeaks, this time with a different emphasis and cadence. Angel responded with a succession of similar sounds. They gradually ascended in pitch until they were inaudible to Chan’s ears. The great body ceased to squirm in S’greela’s grasp, and the Pipe-Rilla leaned closer to follow the interaction. Chan knew that both Angel and S’greela could hear frequencies well outside the human range. He would have to let them work in peace now, and receive his briefing when the initial communication attempt was finished. He stepped away from the others and stared around him at the tunnel walls.
They were close to a branch point where the descending shaft split and continued down as two separate paths. He had not seen that before, nor heard of it in any of the records left by Team Alpha. It suggested a possible system of pathways through Travancore’s jungle more complicated than they had realized.
Chan glanced back at Shikari and S’greela. He was tempted to call to them, but they were both engrossed in Angel’s efforts at talking with the giant native animal. He walked a little farther down the sloping tunnel, and shone his light along each branch in turn.
They were obviously quite different. One continued steadily down toward the distant surface of Travancore, five kilometers below. The other was narrower and less steep. It curved off slowly to the left with hardly any gradient at all. If it went on like that, it would form a horizontal road through the high forest.
Chan went that way and took a few paces along it. He had no intention of losing sight or sound of the other team members.
After only three steps he paused. It was very confusing. There seemed to be something like a dark mist obscuring the more distant parts of the corridor. When he shone his light that way there was no answering reflection.
He hesitated, but after a moment or two he turned to start back the way that he had come. Whatever that might be in front of him, he was not going to face it alone. He had weapons on him, but more man that he wanted the support of the other team members — S’greela’s strength, Shikari’s mobility, and Angel’s cool reasoning.
As he was turning he heard a whisper behind him.
“Chan!”
He looked back. Something had stepped forward from the dark mist, and was standing now in the middle of the narrow pathway.
It had the shape of a human. Chan took another step back toward the other team members as he shone his light at the figure in the tunnel.
And then he could not move at all.
It was Leah.
Chan was ready to call out to her when he remembered Mondrian’s warning. Leah was dead, and what Chan had to be seeing was an illusion — something created in his mind by the Morgan Construct.
As though to confirm his fear, the figure of Leah drifted upward like a pale ghost. It hung unsupported, a couple of feet above the floor of the tunnel. The shape raised one pale arm and waved in greeting. “Chan!”
“Leah?” He fought back the urge to run forward and embrace the form hovering in front of him.
“No, Chan.” The dark head moved from side to side. “Not now. It would be too dangerous now. Say goodbye to me. But don’t stop loving me, Chan. Love is the secret.”