Hunter's Run Part 4

The alien paused, as though briefly puzzled. "You live," it said finally. "Therefore, you exercise your function. Nonfunctioning, you could not exist. To exist and yet not exist-you would be a contradiction, aubre, aubre, a disruption in the flow. a disruption in the flow. Aubre Aubre cannot be tolerated. cannot be tolerated.

To restore balanced flow, it would be necessary to deny the illusion that you exist."

That at least was clear enough, Ramon thought, feeling gooseflesh sweep across his skin. He chose his words carefully when he spoke again. "And what function am I to fulfill?"

The hot orange eyes fixed on him again. "Take care," the alien warned. "That we must interpret your tatecreude tatecreude for you is a sign that you incline toward for you is a sign that you incline toward aubre aubre. But we will grant you a dispensation, as you are not a proper creature. Listen: a man has escaped from us.

Three days ago he fled from us, and we have not been able to find him. By this act, he has shown himself to be aubre, aubre, and so proved that he does not exist. The illusion of his existence must therefore be negated. The man must not be allowed to reach a human settlement, to tell other humans about us. Should he do so, that would interfere with our own and so proved that he does not exist. The illusion of his existence must therefore be negated. The man must not be allowed to reach a human settlement, to tell other humans about us. Should he do so, that would interfere with our own tatecreude tatecreude. Such interference is gaesu, gaesu, prime contradiction. Therefore you will find him, negate him, in order to restore balanced flow." prime contradiction. Therefore you will find him, negate him, in order to restore balanced flow."

"How am I I supposed to find him if you could not?" supposed to find him if you could not?"

"You are man. You are the same. You will find him."

"He could be anywhere by now!" Ramon protested.

"Where you would go and where he would go-they are the same.

You will go where he has gone, and you will find him."

Ramon considered that.

"So you mean there's a man out there who found you and got away, and now you want me to help you catch him before he can get back to civilization? You want me to hunt for you? Is that what you're saying?"

The thing in the cables considered this.

"Yes," it said.

"And why the f.u.c.k f.u.c.k would I do that?" would I do that?"

The deep, awesome, booming sound rose from the depths of the planet below. Ramon was reminded again where he was, and to what sort of creature he was speaking. Vertigo washed through him. The great alien didn't seem to notice his distress.

"You are imbued with purpose," it said, almost patiently. "Your heart beats. You exchange gases. You do so for a purpose. To be and yet be without purpose is contradictory. Your language is flawed in that it can express illusory states. Your purpose is to aid in locating the man. If you are without purpose, the illusion of your existence must be rectified."

Well, Ramon thought, that was clear enough. Hunt or die. The answer was simple. He would lie. He had no intention of playing Judas goat for these demons, but likewise he would never be able to break away from them as long as he was a.s.s-deep in their mountain.

If he could make his way to the open air, there was at least hope. A chilling thought struck him.

"How long did you keep me here?" he asked. "Is it still summer out there? Because tracking some mad f.u.c.ker in winter isn't going to work."

The beast was silent. Ramon grew impatient. If the time he had 63 63 spent in darkness had been long enough for the seasons to change, escape from the aliens would be suicide. The weather would kill him as effectively as a knife in the ribs.

"How long was I in that f.u.c.king vat?"

"Three days," the thing said without hesitation.

Ramon felt a stab of fear, sharper for being unexpected.

"The man you want tracked down. That's how long he's been running? All the time I've been here?"

The alien paused for a long moment, before its deep, hoa.r.s.e voice answered.

"Yes."

This far to the north, there was no way it could be coincidence; Ramon had been followed. Some poor f.u.c.ker from the constabulary had come north after him, searching for the European's killer, and instead had walked into this scene from h.e.l.l. Ramon couldn't help imagining it-a Diegotown cop, or maybe one of the governor's own security agents, making his stealthy way toward Ramon's camp only to find scorched ground, twisted plastic, and these monsters flying from the great metal wall he had uncovered. Had the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had time to call for help? No satellites reached this far north, but the police had radio they could bounce off the atmosphere. Had the aliens destroyed the policeman's van as they had Ramon's?

Ramon had been poor all his life, and, like most poor people, the instinct to be afraid of the police had been burned into his soul. The thought that they had been close enough to him to fall into the same alien snare brought the coppery taste of panic to Ramon's mouth.

And yet, his logical mind told him that the constabulary was his best hope now. Usually the last thing he'd want to see were the police, but there were situations dire enough, like this one, when even somebody like him, who had frequently run afoul of the law, would be d.a.m.n glad to see the cops coming over the hill. If word could get as far as Fiddler's Jump, aid would come. The military forces of thecolony. Ramon had to hope that the man who had been set to follow him was as good at fleeing as he'd been at shadowing him.

And if the cavalry came, and Ramon was freed, what then? He had killed the European. Would the governor still be hot to have Ramon hanged for it? Or would his part in discovering the alien nest win him amnesty? He was trapped between the Devil and the deep blue sea.

"All right," Ramon said. "You want the guy found, I'll find him for you. He's no friend of mine." He rubbed his chin shrewdly. It wouldn't do to give in too easily, though. Even things as strange as these might recognize that as subterfuge. "If I do this thing for you,"

he asked slyly, "what do I get out of it?"

The alien stared at him for several long moments, long enough that Ramon began to fear that he had overplayed his hand. "You are an improper and contradictory creature. Aubre Aubre may manifest in you. may manifest in you.

We will ensure against such manifestations by accompanying you."

"You? All of you?"

"We. Not-we. Your language is flawed, it admits contradiction where none exists. We will separate part of the whole. Maneck will sacrifice himself to maintain the flow. Maneck is we, and not-we.

Maneck will accompany you and watch over you. Through him, your tatecreude tatecreude will be protected." will be protected."

Well, the thought that the aliens would send him out alone into the bush, trusting him to keep to the task they had a.s.signed, was one that had always been too good to be true. But the fact that there would be only a single guard was a blessing. Two or three of the things would have been difficult to evade. More than that, impossible. Only one, however . . .

The alien who had led him here moved silently to Ramon's side.

It was eerie-nothing so big should be so quiet.

"Maneck, eh?" Ramon said to the thing. "Your name's Maneck?

I'm Ramon Espejo."

65 While Ramon was still wondering if he should attempt to shake hands with it, Maneck abruptly reached out and took him by the shoulders, lifted him like a doll, and held him immobile in the air.

Ramon fought instinctively-nights at the bar and in the street coming back to his arms and legs in a rage. He might as well have punched the ocean. Maneck didn't budge.

Up from the pit rose a pale white snake.

Ramon watched in horrified fascination. It was obviously a cable of some sort-two bare wires protruded from the visible end-but its movements were so supple and lifelike that he could not help but think of it as a pale and sinister cobra. It reared almost to eye level, swayed slowly from side to side, and aimed its blind pallid head at Ramon. The head quivered slightly, as though the snake was testing the air in search of its prey. Then it stretched out toward him.

Again Ramon tried desperately to break free, but Maneck wrenched him effortlessly back into position. As the cable-snake came closer, he saw that it was pulsating rhythmically, and that the two naked wires in its head were vibrating like a serpent's flickering tongue. His flesh crawled and he felt his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es retract. He felt his nakedness vividly now-he was unprotected, helpless, all of the soft, vulnerable parts of his body exposed to the hostile air.

"I'll do it!" Ramon shrieked. "I said I'd do it! You don't have to do this to me! I'll help you!"

The cable touched the hollow of his throat.

Ramon felt a sensation like the touch of dead lips, a double pin-p.r.i.c.k of pain, a flash of intense cold. An odd, quivering shock ran up and down his body, as though someone were tracing his nervous system with feather fingers. His vision dimmed for a heartbeat, then came back. Maneck lowered him to the ground.

The cable was now embedded in his neck. Fighting nausea, he reached up and took hold of it, feeling it pulse in his hands. It was warm to the touch, like human flesh. He pulled at it tentatively, thentugged harder. He felt the flesh of his throat move when he tugged.

To rip it free would obviously be as difficult as tearing off his own nose. The cable pulsed again, and Ramon realized that it was pulsing in time to the beating of his heart. As he watched, it seemed to darken slowly, as if it were filling with his blood.

He saw with horror that the opposite end of the cable had somehow linked itself to the alien that had held him, blending into its right wrist. Maneck. He was on a leash. A hunting dog for demons.

"The sahael sahael will not injure you, but it will help to resolve your contradictions," the thing in the pit said, as if sensing his distress but failing to understand it. "You should welcome it. It will help to protect you from will not injure you, but it will help to resolve your contradictions," the thing in the pit said, as if sensing his distress but failing to understand it. "You should welcome it. It will help to protect you from aubre aubre. Should you manifest aubre, aubre, you will be corrected. Like this." you will be corrected. Like this."

Ramon found himself on the floor, though he did not remember falling. Only now that the pain had pa.s.sed could he look back at it and realize that it had been the worst pain he had ever experienced, as a swimmer turns to look back at a wave that has pa.s.sed over his head. He didn't remember screaming, but his throat was raw, and it almost seemed as if the echo of his shriek was still reverberating from the chamber walls. He caught his breath, and then retched. He knew that he would do whatever was required to prevent that from happening again, anything at all, and for the first time since he woke in darkness, Ramon Espejo felt truly ashamed.

I will kill you all, Ramon thought. Ramon thought. Somehow, I will cut this thing Somehow, I will cut this thing out of my throat, and then I will come and kill you all. out of my throat, and then I will come and kill you all.

"School yourself," the pale alien said. "Correct aubre, aubre, and even such a flawed thing as yourself may achieve cohesion or even coordinate level." and even such a flawed thing as yourself may achieve cohesion or even coordinate level."

It took Ramon some time to realize that this gibberish had been a dismissal: a stern but kindly admonition, h.e.l.lfire threatened, the prospect of redemption dangled, and go forth and sin no more go forth and sin no more. The sonofab.i.t.c.h was a missionary!

67 Maneck lifted Ramon back to his feet and nudged him toward a tunnel. The fleshy leash-the sahael sahael-shrank to match whatever distance was between them. Maneck made a sound that he couldn't interpret and apparently gave up gentle coaxing. The alien moved briskly forward, the sahael sahael tugging now at Ramon's throat. He had no choice but to follow, like a dog trotting at its master's heel. tugging now at Ramon's throat. He had no choice but to follow, like a dog trotting at its master's heel.

And you, mi amigo, Ramon thought, staring at Maneck's indifferent back, mi amigo, Ramon thought, staring at Maneck's indifferent back, will be the very first to die. will be the very first to die.

Chapter 7.

Back through the tunnels they went, through cavern after cavern, through rhythmic noise, billowing shadow, and glaring blue light.

Ramon walked leadenly, like an automaton, pulled along by Maneck, the tether in his neck feeling heavy and awkward. The chill air leached the heat from his body, and even the work of walking wasn't enough to keep him warm.

As he stumbled along, in the privacy of his mind, Ramon searched for hope.

How long would it be before Elena noticed his absence? Months, at least. Or she might think he'd gone off again, down to Nuevo Janeiro without her, to file his reports and collect his fees and keep his money for himself. Or run off on a drunken spree with some other woman. Rather than start a search for him, she was more likely to work herself into a blind rage and go f.u.c.k some hairy prospector 69 69 from a bush bar or rum shack in revenge. Likewise, Manuel Griego would expect him to be in the field for three or four weeks at the least. Ramon silently berated himself for talking about hunting and his fantasy of disappearing into the Sierra Hueso to live off the land.

Manuel might a.s.sume he wasn't coming back at all, especially if he suspected (as he probably did) that Ramon knew that the cops were after him.

The only ones who would look for him were the law, and the law would have followed him with public execution in mind.

There was no one. That was the truth. He had lived his life on his own terms-always on his own terms-and here was the price of it. He was on his own, hundreds of miles from the nearest human settlement, captured and enslaved.

If he was going to get out of this, he would have to find his own way out.

Maneck tugged at the sahael sahael and Ramon looked up, aware for the first time that they had stopped. The alien thing pushed a bundle into his arms. Clothes. and Ramon looked up, aware for the first time that they had stopped. The alien thing pushed a bundle into his arms. Clothes.

The clothes were a sleeveless one-piece garment, something like pajamas, a large cloak, and hard-soled slipper-boots, all made from a curious, l.u.s.terless material. He pulled them on with fingers stiff from cold. The aliens were obviously not used to tailoring for humans; the clothes were clumsily made and ill-fitting, but at least they afforded him some protection against the numbing cold. It wasn't until his nakedness was covered and warmth began to return to his limbs that his teeth began to chatter.

Maneck led him down a bright white pa.s.sageway to another great, high-vaulted chamber. Things the color and size of aphids swarmed across the floor, b.u.mping into each other and into his legs, singing incomprehensible gibberish in high, sweet voices. In the center of the room squatted a bone-colored box like the one that had destroyed his van. As they drew near, Ramon saw that the thing was not solid.

Instead, a million tiny strands of dripping white and cream made a webwork of slats that s.h.i.+fted to create an opening and then close it behind them.

The interior of the box was likewise only half-solid-a wide, low bench that appeared intended for Maneck's barrel-like form and also a smaller area set into the wall where Ramon himself might sit, legs pulled up to his chest.

Ramon waited leadenly while Maneck examined the box, leaning in to run its long, slender fingers carefully over the controls. He could feel himself becoming dazed and pa.s.sive, numbed by weariness and shock-he'd been through too much, too fast. And he was tired, more tired than he could remember being before; perhaps the shot they'd given him, glucose or adrenaline or whatever it had been, was wearing off. He was almost asleep on his feet when Maneck seized him, lifted him into the air as if he was a little child, and stuffed him into the box. He struggled to sit up, but Maneck seized his arms, drew them behind his back, and bound them with a thin length of wirelike substance, then hobbled his legs, before turning and sitting down in front of the controls. Maneck touched a pushplate, and the box rose smoothly into the air.

Acceleration shoved Ramon's head sideways, pinning it at an uncomfortable angle. In spite of the terror of his situation, he realized that he was unable to stay awake any longer. Even as they rose toward the high-domed cavern roof, his eyes were squeezing shut, as though the mild g-forces that pulled with mossy inevitability on his bones were also drawing him inexorably into sleep.

Above them, the rock opened.

As Ramon's consciousness faded, drowning him in hissing white snow, he saw, beyond the hole in the stone, a single pale and isolate star.

A freezing wind lashed him awake. He struggled to sit up. The box lurched to the left, and he found himself looking through the s.p.a.ces 71 71 between the woven slats straight down through an ocean of air at the tiny tops of the trees. The box canted over the other way, violently, and the darkening evening sky swirled around his head, momentarily turning the faint, newly emerged stars into tight little squiggles of light.

They leveled off. Maneck sat behind the box's control panel un-shakably, firm and cold as a statue, quills rippling in the bitter wind.

Banking again, they fell at a slant through the air. He couldn't have been insensible for more than a minute or two, Ramon realized; that was the aliens' mountain just behind them, the exit hole now irised shut again, and that was the mountain slope where he'd been captured, just below. Even as they coasted down toward the slope, the sky was growing significantly darker. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon some moments before, leaving only the thinnest sliver of glazed red along the junction line of land and air. The rest of the sky was the color of plum and eggplant and ash, dying rapidly to an inky blackness overhead and to the west. Armed and bristling with trees, the mountain slope rushed up to meet them. Too fast! Surely they would crash . . .

They touched down lightly in the middle of an alpine valley, settling out of the sky as silently as a feather. Maneck killed the box's engine. Darkness swallowed them, and they were surrounded by the sly and predatory noises of evening. Maneck seized Ramon, and, lifting him like a rag doll, dragged him from the box, carried him a few feet away, and dropped him to the ground.

Ramon groaned involuntarily, startled and ashamed by the loud-ness of his voice. His arms were still bound behind him, and to lie upon them was excruciatingly painful. He rolled over onto his stomach. The ground under him was so cold that it was comfortable, and even in his sick and confused condition, Ramon realized that meant death. He thrashed and squirmed, and managed to roll himself up in the long cloak he'd been given; it was surprisingly warm. He wouldhave fallen asleep then, in spite of his pain and discomfort, but light beat against his eyelids where there had been no light, and he opened his eyes.

The light seemed blinding at first, but it dimmed as his eyes adjusted. Maneck had brought something from the box, a small globe attached to a long metal rod, and jammed the sharp end of the rod into the soil; now the globe was alight, burning from within with a dim bluish light, emitting rhythmic waves of heat. As Ramon watched, Maneck walked around the globe-the sahael sahael shortening visibly with each step-and came slowly toward him with seeming deliberation. Only then, watching Maneck prowl toward him, seeing the wet gleam in the corner of its orange eyes as it looked from side to side, seeing the way its nose crinkled and twitched, the way its head swiveled and swayed restlessly on the stubby neck, the shrugging of its shoulders at each step, hearing the iron rasp of its breath, smelling its thick, musky odor-only then did some last part of Ramon's mind fully accept the fact that he was its captive, alone and at its mercy in the wilderness. shortening visibly with each step-and came slowly toward him with seeming deliberation. Only then, watching Maneck prowl toward him, seeing the wet gleam in the corner of its orange eyes as it looked from side to side, seeing the way its nose crinkled and twitched, the way its head swiveled and swayed restlessly on the stubby neck, the shrugging of its shoulders at each step, hearing the iron rasp of its breath, smelling its thick, musky odor-only then did some last part of Ramon's mind fully accept the fact that he was its captive, alone and at its mercy in the wilderness.

That simple knowledge hit Ramon with such force that he felt the blood begin to drain from his face, and even as he was worming and scrambling backward in a futile attempt to get away from his captor, he was losing his grip on the world, losing consciousness, slipping down into darkness.

The alien stood over him, seen again through the hazy white snow of faintness, seeming to loom up endlessly into the sky like some horrid and impossible beanstalk, with eyes like blazing orange suns.

That was the last thing Ramon saw before the snow piled up over his face and buried him, and everything was gone.

Morning was a blaze of pain. He had fallen asleep on his back, and he could no longer feel his arms. The rest of his body ached as though it had been beaten with clubs. The alien was standing over him again- 73 or perhaps it had never moved, perhaps it had stood there all night, looming and remote, terrible, tireless, and unsleeping. The first thing Ramon saw that morning, through a bloodshot haze of pain, was the alien's face; the long, twitching black snout with its blue and orange markings, the quills stirring in the wind and moving like the feelers of some huge insect.

I will kill you, Ramon thought once again. There was very little anger in it. Only a deep, animal certainty. Ramon thought once again. There was very little anger in it. Only a deep, animal certainty. Somehow, I will kill you. Somehow, I will kill you.

Maneck hauled Ramon to his feet and set him loose, but his legs would not hold him, and he crashed back to the ground as soon as he was released. Again Maneck pulled him up, and again Ramon fell.

As Maneck reached for him the third time, Ramon screamed, "Kill me! Why don't you just kill me?" He wormed backward, away from Maneck's reaching hand. "You might as well just kill me now!"

Maneck stopped. Its head tilted to one side to regard Ramon curiously in an oddly birdlike manner. The hot orange eyes peered at him closely, unblinking.

"I need food," Ramon went on, in a more reasonable tone. "I need water. I need rest. I can't use my arms and legs if they're tied like this.

I can't even stand, let alone walk!" He heard his voice rising again, but couldn't stop it. "Listen, puto, puto, I need to I need to p.i.s.s p.i.s.s! I'm a man, not a machine!" With a supreme effort, he heaved himself to his knees and knelt there in the dirt, swaying. "Is this aubre aubre? Eh? Good! Kill me, then! I can't go on like this!"

Man and alien stared at each other for a silent moment. Ramon, exhausted by his outburst, breathed in rattling gasps. Maneck studied him carefully, snout quivering. At last, it said, "You possess retehue retehue?"

"How the s.h.i.+t would I I know?" Ramon croaked, his voice rasping in his dry throat. "What the f.u.c.k is it?" He drew himself up as much as he could, and glared back at the alien. know?" Ramon croaked, his voice rasping in his dry throat. "What the f.u.c.k is it?" He drew himself up as much as he could, and glared back at the alien.