Cat Karina (27 page)

In fact, El Tigre had. At that moment Teressa was climbing the ladder, followed by Karina and Runa. Around the base of the tower stood a circle of felinas facing outwards, while groups of True Humans hovered in doorways of the houses opposite, muttering but unable to take any positive action. The thrust had come too quickly, straight up the hill, hidden by the long grass on the far side of the sailway track.

Teressa kicked open the cabin door.

This time, however, there was no opposition from the little signalmen. They sat on tiny seats which jutted from the walls, their hands folded and their heads bowed in attitudes of defeat.

“Send a signal to Torres for relaying right down the coast,” said Teressa. “Tell them the felinos have risen against True Human rule. Tell them the days of slavery are over, and that half of Rangua is in felino hands. Tell them to rise up themselves. Tell them El Tigre has spoken.”

One little man looked up, the ghost of a smile on his hatchet face. “Tell the sun to come out.”

“Well, by the Genes of Mordecai, you’re supposed to be the experts!”

“We borrow from the sun, but we can’t command it.” The signalman quoted an old Guild saying. Outside, the rain drizzled down. Above the box, little puddles of water had gathered in the blind, upturned eyes of the hemitrexes.

“We’re wasting our time with these fools, Tess,” said Runa.

Karina, staring out over the town in the hope of catching sight of fierce fighting, said, “Look!”

The Palhoa car, sails furled, was rolling gently down the grade towards the station.

“Send the signal just as soon as you have enough sun, signalmen!” commanded Teressa. “We have other things to do. But we’ll send some felinas up here to make sure you do as you’re told.”

The El Tigre grupo hurried towards the station. They passed several grupos on the way; members of Iolande’s army holding their positions having eliminated the True Human outposts, but unwilling to cross the street to attack the heavily-fortified houses.

They met Iolande at the station. “We’re waiting until dark,” she said. “We’ll wipe them out, then.”

“Where are the prisoners?” asked Karina. She’d always mistrusted the tall woman and, for a moment, doubted whether Iolande had encountered any opposition at all.

Iolande merely smiled, however, not deigning to reply. She lifted a hand and, with a sliver of wood, began ostentatiously to clean her fingernails of reddish-brown residue.

The sailcar rumbled into the platform and braked to a halt. Karina swung herself to the deck and descended to the open nose.

“You know Captain Tonio?” she asked the captain.

“Of course.”

“Did you take him up to Palhoa this morning?”

“Well.…” The man hesitated, made nervous by the oppressive combination of sexuality and violence which this cat-girl brought to his cabin. “There were a lot of people leaving Rangua — there were rumors of trouble, you see. The car was full. I didn’t pay too much attention.…”

“I think you’re lying,” said Karina frankly.

“No! I can assure you.…” There was dried
blood
on the girl — and what was happening outside? There were felinas on the platform, and along the track!

“Yes,” said Karina, following his gaze. “Things have been moving around here since you left. You’re in occupied territory, captain. In fact you’re my prisoner, and so are your crew. You’re our only prisoners, because I suspect the others are all dead. Somehow, our grupos don’t seem to understand the concept of prisoners. But then, what do you expect from ignorant animals?”

The captain said, surprisingly, “I don’t think you’re an ignorant animal. I think you’re a beautiful woman.”

“Well, thanks.” Karina was taken completely off-guard. “All the same, I —”

“My name’s Guantelete,” said the man. “If I tell you what you want to know, will you guarantee the safety of my crew?”

Somehow the initiative seemed to be slipping away from Karina. She said, recovering, “I’m not guaranteeing anything!”

“Then I’m not telling anything.”

“Oh. Well, all right, then. I’ll make sure nobody harms you.”

Guantelete regarded her sadly. Why did it have to be like this? The girl was a vision of loveliness and he was a sentimental middle-aged man who had been relegated to the Palhoa backwater because of his failing ability to cope with the rigors of the coastal run. He would have liked to be friends but now, apparently, there was war between them. And worse, he had to betray Tonio because it was the lesser of two evils.

“Tonio was on the morning car,” he said.

“And his wife and son?”

“Yes.”

“All right. You’d better come with me. I’ll have to find somewhere to lock you up.”

“There’s something else. My wife, she lives in the town. I wonder, could you.…”

“I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

“Bring her to me. You see, you’re going to need me and my crew to take you up to Palhoa on the morning breeze. Then, I think we’ll stay there for a while until things blow over down here.”

Karina bristled. “Blow over? Nothing’s going to blow over. This is the revolution! Nothing will ever be the same again!”

“Of course it won’t,” said Captain Guantelete pacifically, and gave her instructions where his wife could be found. “I’m sure you’ll have captured the whole town by morning,” he said.

“You’re not very loyal to your people.”

“Just practical.”

As Karina led Captain Guantelete and his crew along the platform, she noticed an odd thing. The Canton Lord’s private car was still there, and the guards were shaking out the sails ready to depart. But nobody was making any attempt to stop them. Iolande was talking to her grupo, and although her gaze rested on the huge figures a couple of times, she made no move. It was as though the revolution flowed around the guards; as though their awesome power rendered them automatically neutral.

Yet she knew — and her father had said many times — that the main objective of the revolution would be to overthrow the Canton Lord.

How could they do that, if they were afraid to capture just two of his guards?

Shortly afterwards El Tigre brought the main force up the hill and they set up camp for the night in the south-west corner of the town, around the base of the signal tower. They hung skins from the sailway guiderails to form tents for the bachelors, the children and the mothers, and any others who did not care to join in the fighting. Nobody was forced to fight. El Tigre had enough willing warriors with the grupos.

As darkness fell, the reports started coming in.

Dozo had accomplished his mission. By mid-afternoon he’d held a meeting of tumpiers and put the situation to them. Following this, he’s entered the Womens’ Village in the company of the Madre and addressed the Women. It seemed to him that both audiences were somewhat unenthusiastic — he’d been used to felino meetings, with their roars of acclamation — and this was something of an anti-climax.

“They don’t seem to care,” he said to his henchman.

This was probably fair comment. The tumpiers were philosophical people and used to regarding life in the long-term. Rulers would come and rulers would go, but the span of tumpier existence was dependent on the tumps themselves.

Tamaril sent word back that she was holding her position inside the eastern borders of the town, that she’d joined up with the errant grupos, and that she would attack around midnight over the rooftops, coming down behind the barricades. All was well and the grupos in good spirits. There had been little loss of felina life.…

Iolande’s front had now joined the main body so that the felinos were in command of the entire western side of the town, from the station to the signalbox, including the sailway and a few buildings. The town was thus cut off from the Palace further west.

The iron weapons captured by Iolande were examined and discussed. Like the earlier news that the tortugas were, in fact, animals, this was seen as merely another example of True Human perfidy. It did not present any immediate danger. At close range, an iron dagger was little more effective than ironwood or obsidian. The weapons did not cause anything like the furor which occurred when the remains of
Rayo
were found to contain metal bearings.…

“When we rule the Canton,” El Tigre had roared, “The Examples will be law! The kindling of the Wrath of Agni will be punishable by death!”

So the discussions continued, and as night deepened the grupos crept among the houses, infiltrating the barricades and scaling the walls. Every so often a muffled gurgle would be heard, as some True Human guard fell and bled his life away; and sometimes a screech startled the night when a felina’s enthusiasm overcame her caution; but El Tigre thought little of this.

He was more concerned about the situation in the delta. He’d heard no news from Manoso since the morning.

Shocked, they regarded the carcass of the llama.

“That’s a jaguar did that,” said Tonio. “I’m going to kill the brute, you’ll see.” The excitement was in him again, and he looked alert and refreshed after the night’s sleep. “Today I’ll go hunting.”

Astrud said dully, “The Examples.” Her dream was still vividly in her mind; Tonio and the cats, hunting together. “Of course you can’t
hunt
. Don’t be stupid, Tonio.”

He glanced at her. “Survival,” he said. “You’re going to have to change your ideas, Astrud. We don’t have time to plant crops up here. It’s primitive, violent — don’t you feel it?”

Raoul had been examining the remains of the llama. “This wasn’t a jaguar’s kill, father. Look at the way the thigh bones have been bitten through. A jaguar couldn’t do that.”

The smell of blood, the smell of death, the smell of decaying vegetation, and the monkeys chattering in the trees overhead. Astrud suddenly clapped her hands to her ears.

“I can’t stand it! Take me home, Tonio! Anything is better than this!”

Ignoring her, Tonio bent to examine the carcass. It was an unusual kill. The llama had been forcibly dismembered and the bones chewed. Very little flesh remained; the few shreds were crawling with ants.

“Can I come with you, father?”

“No. You stay behind. Somebody has to look after your mother.”

After a breakfast of dried fruit, Tonio climbed to the signal light and detached a hemitrex from its mounting. Then he found a patch of forest floor where the sun slanted through the trees and used the shell to focus the rays onto a little heap of tinder. Soon a fire was burning, the smoke curling up among the branches.

By now, Astrud was past speaking, huddled against the ladder, eyes wide with shock.

“See it doesn’t go out,” said Tonio to Raoul and, taking up his crossbow, headed off into the forest.

As he walked, he wondered at the sense of well-being which flowed through him. He felt as though he was one with the jungle; a predator just as much in his element as the jaguar. He moved quietly through the trees and soon reached the barren ridge he’d seen the previous day. He climbed into the morning heat and, arriving at the crest, sat down on a rock.

More jungle lay before him, a forested valley very similar to the one he’d left, sandwiched between saw-edged ridges and ending on the seaward side in a sheer escarpment. He could hear a waterfall and, through the trees, he caught a glimpse of a small lake. There would be fish.

Some time later he came to a clearing in the valley floor and the tiny lake lay before him, sparkling in the sun. He knelt and peered into the water. Sure enough, small fish swam there, each about as long as his forearm — easy targets for his crossbow. He slipped in a bolt, took aim and shot.

Thunk!
As the ripples cleared, he could see a fish transfixed, thrashing on a bolt which pinned it to the mud. He reached in and drew it out, removed the bolt and laid the fish on the bank.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, he looked up. A girl stood there. She wore a long black dress and her hair was drawn back from her face and fastened above her neck. He found himself staring. There was an unearthly beauty about her, and something touched a memory from the past. There was no trace of expression on her face, and this he remembered, too.

But it couldn’t be. This girl was no more than twenty years old.…

“I said, what are you doing?” she repeated without impatience, as though she had all the time in the world.

“Well, fishing. We’re staying over the ridge — you know, the old sailway track? We’re living in the signal cabin — well, it’s not very comfortable, but we’ll soon have it fixed up.… Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

“You can’t fish in this valley.”

“But there aren’t any pools in our valley — just a small stream. Drinking water, that’s all we’ve got. You live here, do you? Surely you can spare some of your fish — there are plenty. I saw them.”

“I can spare them. But the animals who live here can’t spare them. Neither can the big fish, Torpad, spare them.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Fish are fish. They’re there to be caught.” He wound up the crossbow, took aim and shot.

He missed.

The fish darted away as the bolt hit the water. He shot again, and missed again. Sweating and becoming annoyed, he looked up at the girl. “Go away, will you! You’re scaring the fish!”

She didn’t move.

He unleashed shot after shot into the pool, and now his bolts were disappearing into the mud so that he could not retrieve them. The fish were still there but they could not be caught. Finally, hot and enraged, he was out of bolts.

“So now you’d better go back to the signal cabin,” said the girl placidly.

“But I’ll be back!” he blustered, a beaten True Human around thirty-five years physical, too ready to submit, feeling an odd need to weep as he strode away.

Now, as he walked with empty bow, the game abounded. Deer wandered across the trail, fat birds perched on nearby branches and watched him. Soon he came to a stream and a huge fish was there, just idling in the current, begging to be shot. He regarded it for some time, and as he stood there in the suddenly-silent forest a name came into his head.