Cat Karina

AN [
e
- reads
] BOOK
New York, NY

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, scanning or any information storage retrieval system, without explicit permission in writing from the Author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1982 by Michael G. Coney
First e-reads publication 2002
www.e-reads.com
ISBN 0-7592-2822-1

“
Step out of your shroud,
Alan-Blue-Cloud,
And sing us a Song of Earth.
”

— Childrens’ ditty of the Terminal Millennia.

When everything else had run down, we will still have the legends of Old Earth.

There is a giant computer which straddles the world. It has its roots deep in the Fifty-second Millennium; that so-distant past when Man discovered electricity. It walked through history hand-in-hand with Man; it saw the building of the first Domes, it survived the reversal of the Earth’s magnetic field, it watched the Age of Resurgence, it fought Man’s wars for him and even, in the Domes, lived his life for him. It became so powerful that it was able to observe practically everything that happened on Earth and, from this, project what was going to happen in the future — or the If along, as it is more correctly called. Now, in these Dying Years, the computer is still there, still observing, thinking and predicting, in countless solar-powered centers all over Earth.

It is called the Rainbow.

I am called Alan-Blue-Cloud. In a way I am the Rainbow’s interpreter. I am one of the few remaining beings who is able to operate a terminal, and I use this ability to draw true stories out of the computer; stories of True Humans and Specialists, of aliens and Bale Wolves and the sad neotenites known cruelly as Blubbers.

But true stories do not give the whole picture. During the later years of Earth people became dissatisfied with bare facts, which are always a little dull when compared with fictions and legends. So, when it seemed that Mankind was doomed forever to listen to the Truth, because that was all he could get out of his terminals and cassettes, an old art-form was rediscovered.

And Romance returned to Earth.

It started with a few bards and minstrels — I will shortly tell you about one named Enriques de Jai’a. They ignored the Rainbow and they used their eyes and ears, listened to rumors and legends and dying old men. And they used their imagination, and their essential humanness. With these ingredients they created a whole new history of Mankind; a tapestry of events which was passed on by word of mouth — and so could never become dull, inflexible, or accurate.

It is called the Song of Earth.

 

Where a young felina
meets a wise woman,
hears of her future
and meets a young True Human whose name
will be linked with hers in the Ifalong.

 

“
The fastest sailcar is the first to the rotted rail
”

— Old sailway proverb.

Instantly, Karina knew her leg was broken.

Her body swung downwards and she grabbed the log with her right arm, checking her fall. As she hung there, the pain began. The dark night brightened with her pain, so that for a moment she could see nothing except a blinding redness, flaring like a furnace from a core of agony just below her knee.

She made no sound. Felinas don’t cry.

So they were tears of pain in her eyes, not weakness. She blinked and her vision cleared, and she wriggled carefully, working her way onto the log until she lay along it, her foot trapped in the supporting crutch, her legs outstretched. She saw the moon reflected from the long, smooth timber rail of the sailway and, far in the distance on top of a hill, the bright glow of a signal tower. As she watched, the signal blinked with moonlight.

That meant there was a sailcar coming.

For a moment she visualized the great car, white sails spread to catch the night breeze, trundling down the track while she lay helpless. She tried to tug her foot free, but the movement sent a screaming current of pain through her body and, for a moment, she blacked out.

She came to with a sense of great loneliness. Her alpaca tunic was wrapped around her waist, the ground was three meters below, and the wind blew coldly over her as she lay exposed to the night’s silence. She was lonely for her sisters but they were some distance down the track, far out of earshot, preparing a harmless ambush for the Pegman. A joke which would cost Karina her life. Lying there in pain, she did something which only she could.

She concentrated all her thoughts on her leg and she said, “Please don’t hurt so much. Pain, please go away. Little Friends, wherever you are, please make my leg not hurt so much.…”

And her Little Friends helped her, whispering through the cells of her body, gathering about the wounded nerve endings and the torn flesh and bone, and soothing. Not mending, because this was beyond their power, but soothing so that the pain faded and Karina could think straight again.…

The sailway track consisted of three parallel rows of trimmed logs forming a simple monorail system linking the coastal towns. The middle rail was the thickest and supported the weight of the cars. The other two rails were placed higher, one on either side, and the lateral guidewheels of the sailcars pressed against these. The whole structure marched along the coastal plains on X-shaped gantries; the running rail resting in the crutch of the X and the guiderails pegged to the upper arms.

Karina’s foot was jammed between the running rail and the crutch. She pulled at it and twisted it until warning twinges told her that even the Little Friends could not perform miracles. She lay back in despair. Even if she had been able to free her foot, she could still die. She was a felina, and felino bones do not heal readily.

So Karina the cat-girl lay on the sailway track and waited to die. She was eighteen years old and, by human standards, very beautiful. She had the long supple limbs, the oval face and the slanting amber eyes of her people. Only her hair was different, a startling rarity among felinos; red-gold, it fell about her shoulders like fire. Karina, concentrating on her Little Friends to dull the pain, waited.

Then she felt measured footsteps pacing along the rail towards her.

“Karina? You are Karina, daughter of El Tigre?”

Karina sat up, staring at the tall figure which seemed to float towards her dressed all in black so that for one fanciful moment she thought it was Death come to get her. It was a woman’s voice, soft yet with a strangely lifeless quality as though the speaker had seen all the sadness of the Universe, and had been unable to help.

“Yes, I’m Karina.”

As the woman stepped forward, the moonlight fell upon her face — and Karina flinched with horror. The pallid flesh was seared and puckered with the Mark of Agni, the Fire-God.

“Give me your hand.”

But Karina jerked away, her stomach churning at the awful, unnatural evil of that face. The woman was Cursed. Agni only touched those who sinned, and he made sure they stayed touched. So ran the Kikihuahua Examples.… “No.… Get away from me,” she said. The woman was a True Human. She could tell. There was an imperiousness about her manner.

“You’re trapped on a sailway track and you’ll die unless you can get free — and you won’t let me help you.” The woman’s tone was wondering. “Do I frighten you that much?”

“I’m not afraid of anything!”

“Is it my face? It’s only a burn, you know. You see much stranger things in the jungle.”

“Go away!”

“So it’s because I’m a True Human.”

“All right — so it is! I’m a Specialist and you’re a True Human. There’s nothing we can do for each other. Nothing we can say.”

“That’s your father speaking.”

“True Humans killed my mother!”

Now the woman said an odd thing. “It is beyond our powers to change the facts of the present, and even the possibilities of the Ifalong can seldom be affected. But Karina — on certain happentracks of the Ifalong you will be famous, and the minstrels will sing of you.”

The suggestion was ridiculous. “You mean, like the Pegman and his songs?” said Karina sarcastically.

“Don’t laugh about the Pegman’s songs. They’re important too, and in the distant future they’ll be a part of the Song of Earth. All of human history will be told in songs like the Pegman’s.”

“How do you know this? Can you see into the future?”

“No, of course not. No normal human can. But the Dedo — my mistress — can foretell the Ifalong. It’s no coincidence I’m here. Your accident was foreseen.”

A thread of fear ran down Karina’s spine. “You mean you could have prevented it?”

“No doubt I could, and on certain happentracks I did.” Cold eyes looked down at the cat-girl. “Just as on certain happentracks you will live, and on others you will die.”

“H … happentracks? Like sailway tracks?”

“Different possibilities all existing at the same time.”

“Oh.” The rumbling was closer. Karina had a vision of her crushed body lying in the wake of a speeding sailcar. Her arm would be swinging limply. “I … I can hear a sailcar coming. Can’t you
do
something?”

“That depends on you, Karina.”

“For God’s sake, what do you want?”

“Your word.”

One leg would be lying on the ground below, severed. “You have it!” cried Karina.

“Karina, we live in a difficult year. It is a year of unpredictable, whirling happentracks. The Dedo foresees this as the year when her great Purpose could come to nothing. You alone can ensure that the Purpose will be fulfilled.”

“How? Just tell me, and I’ll do it!”

“You must do several things. At intervals before the end of the year you’ll be faced with difficult decisions. It is essential to the Purpose that you take the right step every time.”

“How will I know?”

“I’ll be there to guide you. It won’t be easy for you, though.”

“I’ll do it!” shouted Karina frantically.

“Give me your solemn word, Karina.”

Karina composed herself and uttered the most sacred words a Specialist can utter; more sacred even than the Kikihuahua Examples.

“I, Karina, swear by the bones of Mordecai N. Whirst that I will obey the commands of this True Human.… Until the end of the year,” she added quickly. “Now, get me out of this!”

And suddenly, just for a moment, the woman was transformed and the humanity shone through. “You poor child — I’m so sorry.” She placed a hand gently on Karina’s leg. “Just keep still, will you.” And she reached inside her robe and took out a smooth, dark stone. It was shot with red flecks and totally ordinary in appearance; and she held Karina’s leg straight, so that the bones were set.