Cat Karina (6 page)

A heavy bough, falling end over end from a lofty tree, struck the
Cavaquinho
on the foredeck.

Two guards were swept over the side. One was hit by the guidewheel arm and died instantly, the other fell five meters into the mud of the estuary and, stunned, died more slowly as the crocodiles moved in. The branch then slid along the deck, tipped, and one end jammed between the guidewheel and the rail. The other end whipped around. One crewman was flung from the deck and crushed by the guidewheel, the other fell into the river and was never seen again.

The full force of the wind hit the
Cavaquinho
as she ran onto the bridge. Normally the crew would have eased the sails out — but there was nobody on deck. Neither was the main brake manned. Unable to spill wind, out of control, the
Cavaquinho
gathered speed as the gale came roaring up the estuary.

The bridge was about a kilometer long and rickety, because the water had attacked the pilings. Worse, there was a sharp bend about three-quarters of the way across where the track turned to follow the shore to Pele North Stage. The felines saw the sails of
Cavaquinho
racing across the estuary. Afterwards, they said she sped ‘swifter than a stooping eagle.’

Captain Cuiva applied the brakes from his cabin, but without avail; indeed, the small emergency forward brake caught fire within seconds and flames spread into the forecabin.

The
Cavaquinho
hit the curve. The guiderail split and collapsed. The sailcar left the track and leaped out across the water. The jagged end of the rail tore away the lath and fabric nose of the forecabin. Captain Cuiva was pitched into the river, suffering a broken leg and a broken back. He was picked up by the felinos but died within the week.

The main cabin of the
Cavaquinho
together with the deck, mast and sails, by now a streaming comet of flames, skipped some distance across the water before settling. The sail remained full and the craft, aided by the incoming tide, drifted rapidly upstream until it disappeared into the mangroves, where a pillar of smoke marked its presence for some moments.

The search for survivors was delayed. The felinos refused to enter the mangroves due to a local superstition concerning a
bruja
. That evening the wreckage drifted past the Stage on a falling tide and was pulled ashore. There was no sign of bodies, but later the same evening The Lord of the Green Forest’s body came ashore, mutilated by cai-mans. The remains of Princess Swift Current were never found.…

In Raoul’s imagination she had escaped, and lived on as his wife, a delicate creature with porcelain skin who sat quietly in the beautiful house he’d built for her. Like a lovely painting she was, never speaking of her ordeal, in fact never speaking at all. Having saved her, Raoul’s mission in life was to look after her.

How did Raoul save the Princess Swift Current?

He swung from a tree and snatched her out of a porthole, like an ape kidnapping a baby. He dropped to the deck, beat off the guards, knocked out Captain Cuiva and led her to where he had two white horses waiting. He’d hidden himself under the car, clinging to the running wheel struts, and at the right moment he appeared in the cabin and.… He emerged dripping from the river, fighting off crocodiles as he.…

Such was the imagination of Raoul. The sailcar rumbled on, slow, prosaic, with a cargo of uninteresting True Humans on their way to meaningless destinations. Was the age of excitement dead?

“How fast will this car go?” he asked his father.
Swifter than a stooping eagle.

“It would take a good horse to outrun us,” replied Captain Tonio.

“You call that fast?”

“I can’t understand why you kids are so impressed by speed.” The journey was nearly over; Rangua Stage was in sight. The southbound car went by. Soon Tonio would be home; Astrud would be waiting, and she’d mentioned early tortugas for supper. Tortugas.… Content, Tonio felt he could indulge the boy. “Maybe one night I’ll show you a really fast car.”

“As fast as the
Cavaquinho?
”

“That was forty years ago. I’d like to think we’ve progressed since then.”

He began to bark commands into the voice pipe, and Raoul heard the crew running on deck. The car lurched, and a rasping squeal announced that the brakes had been applied for Rangua South Stage.

The shrugleggers were creatures of little consequence. In the year 83,426 Cyclic Mankind was still lumbering about the Galaxy in his three-dimensional spaceships and although he’d already met the kikihuahuas and absorbed some of their culture, their mode of travel was too slow for him, and the Outer Think was over a thousand years in the Ifalong. So he rode his metal ships and he suffered the unaccountable accidents to which such crude transport was prone.

The tender from
Spacehawk
crash-landed on Ilos III.

Ilos III was known as the Mud Planet because much of its surface was covered with a suppurating volcanic ooze much prized for its cosmetic properties. Its only inhabitant of any consequence was a human-sized armless biped with gigantic thighs which spent its time foraging in the ooze and had been ignored by exobiologists, until the crash.

The tender’s commander, his ship gradually sinking in the mud, watched by open-mouthed shrugleggers, was struck by an idea. Using morsels of reconstituted fish as bait he tempted the shrugleggers near, then slipped ropes around them, harnessing them to the ship. Twenty shrugleggers were enough. They had enormous strength in their legs, and soon the tender began to glide towards dry land.

The Captain of
Spacehawk
was interested in his commander’s report. It represented a co-operation between Man and beast very much in accordance with the spirit of the Kikihuahua Examples which were becoming popular back on Earth. Those days, the spaceships with their prodigious energy consumption were attracting adverse publicity. The Captain saw a chance to show that space captains, too, were working towards the eventual partnership of Man and Nature.

In the name of the Examples he shipped a hundred shrugleggers back to Earth for use as beasts of burden in rural areas. The experiment was a failure — Earth’s civilizations were not ready to embrace the Examples quite so readily — and the shrugleggers were banished to a remote corner of Lake Titicaca where they strode the shallows in peace for almost forty thousand years, until the coming of the sailways.

Then, at last, their value was realized.

The bargaining was over. Grumbling, Captain Tonio returned to his cabin. “Damned bandits,” he was muttering.

Raoul watched from the foredeck as the shrugleggers were hitched on. The head felino was a large young man who seemed to have a good opinion of himself; Raoul heard the others call him Torch. He was competent, Raoul allowed that — conscious of a twinge of jealousy that this Specialist, little older than himself, held a position of some authority among his own people.

Whereas he, Raoul, was regarded as a child.…

Torch yelled, the felinos cracked their whips, and the car began its slow ascent to Rangua Town. Raoul sat on the rail, dreaming, watching the plodding movement of the shrugleggers’ haunches, when an astonishing thing happened.

A felina swung onto the car and sat on the foredeck.

He stared at her, resenting her intrusion into his domain. She was about the same age as he, with wide slanting eyes and, like all felinas, an air of barely-suppressed violence.

“You’re not allowed up here,” he said.

“Then throw me off,” she answered, looking directly into his eyes in a way which caused a sudden emptiness in his stomach.

“Listen,” he said after a moment during which nothing happened. “Get off here, will you?”

“I know your name,” she said. “You’re Raoul. You’re Captain Tonic’s son.”

He thought he’d seen her before; but then, all felinas looked alike. He glanced behind him, but the crew were immersed in a game of Rebellion on an improvised board scratched into the deck; they muttered together, clicking counters. His father and the passengers were all below. The girl was cleaner than most of her kind, and quite beautiful in an animal way.

Cautiously he asked, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Karina. El Tigre is my father.” Now she smiled, and something of the sun entered Raoul’s body.

“El Tigre? He’s a
bandido.
”

Karina tensed and her fingers curled instinctively, and the nails itched for action. Just in time she recalled the reason for her presence here on this goddamned sailcar with this goddamned True Human brat. She was going to discover the secrets of the delta, and prove to her father that she was capable of looking after herself among True Humans. She was going to kill two rheas with one rock.

She would
captivate
this kid. True Humans couldn’t resist felinas. And then, when he was crazy for her, he would tell her about the delta, the
Rayo
, his father Tonio, his mother, what he ate for breakfast, everything.

She glanced at him slyly, smiled, and wriggled where she sat so that her tunic rose up towards her hips. Then she stretched catlike, arching her back and clasping her hands behind her neck. She tilted her head back, relishing the sun on her face and his eyes on her body.

“What in hell are you doing here, Karina?”

It was Torch. His face dark with fury, he swung himself onto the deck. He stood scowling down at her, not unnaturally misunderstanding what he saw.

Karina swiftly assumed a demure attitude, hands folded in her lap, sliding backwards so that her tunic was stretched down to her ankles. Unfortunately this had the effect of exposing most of her breasts. Raoul was still staring at her, hardly aware of Torch’s intrusion.

“Just taking a ride, Torch,” she said sweetly.

“Well, get off and get back to the camp! This is directly against El Tigre’s orders!”

“I’m happy where I am, thanks.”

“I can see that! You’ll be in big trouble when your father hears about this, Karina!” His eyes were hot with rage and lust. “By the Sword of Agni, you need to be taught a lesson!”

“You’re not my father, Torch.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll be squiring your grupo before long!”

Karina gave a short laugh of incredulity. “
You
squire our grupo?
You?
”

“Your father is in agreement.”

“Yes, because you suck up to him, agreeing with everything he says. But what about me? Do I agree? What about Runa and Saba? What about Teressa, Torch? She’d claw the face off you, and more besides. Think about Teressa, Torch, before you start getting ideas about our grupo!”

“When the squire is ordained, all grupo members must concur,” said Torch loftily, his desire temporarily forgotten in the niceties of cultural argument. “Your grupo has no mother, therefore your squire will be ordained by El Tigre. It is the custom.”

“Piss on the custom,” said Karina.

“What did you say, Karina?” Torch could hardly believe his ears. Karina’s contempt for felino culture had genuinely shocked him. “Did you say piss on the custom, Karina?”

Raoul gave a shout of laughter. Torch glanced at him, hardly seeing him.

“That’s what I said,” said Karina. “Those were my exact words.”

“Would you care to explain them further?” Torch took refuge in his dignity.

Karina opened her mouth, Raoul regarding her with respect and delight, and was about to expound her views on customs in general and Torch’s sexual desires in particular when there was an unwelcome interruption.

“Just what in hell are these felinos doing on my deck, Raoul?” said Captain Tonio grimly, emerging from below.

“Come on out of here,” snapped Torch, dragging Karina to her feet.

Furious, she aimed a swift kick at his crotch. Torch saw it coming, sidestepped, grabbed her foot and heaved. Karina turned a rapid midair somersault and landed lightly on all fours. Snarling with rage, she hurled herself at Torch’s throat. He seized the ratlines above his head and met Karina’s leap with the full force of both feet.

“Animals …!” Tonio was shouting. “Where in hell are my crew?”

Karina rolled end over end and fetched up against the deck railing with a crash. Torch dropped into a crouch and awaited her next attack.

Raoul kicked Torch violently in the buttocks.

Now Torch, caught completely by surprise, pitched forward onto the deck. Karina pounced on him, threw an arm around his neck and began to drag his head back. He uttered one strangled grunt, then began to fight grimly for his life. Unable to shake Karina off, he rose unsteadily to his feet, lurched across the deck popeyed and throttled, and began to climb the ratlines with Karina affixed to his back like some infant primate. When he judged he had enough height he let go.

They hit the deck with a crash, Karina underneath.

The crew, appearing belatedly, saw their chance and moved in. The contestants were pried apart and pinioned. Karina was gulping for air, hardly able to stand. Reaction hit her and she urinated uncontrollably, wetness streaming hotly down her legs.

“Get her off my deck!” shouted Captain Tonio, outraged. “There are passengers below!”

Torch was in little better shape, but he was able to shake himself free from his captors. He took Karina by the elbow. “Come on,” he said. Leading her to the rail, he bent down, seized her thigh, and pitched her unceremoniously over the edge. Then he turned to face the True Humans and, summoning the tattered remains of his dignity, said, “I must apologize for her behavior, Captain Tonio. It will not happen again, I can assure you. You must understand, there is no mother to teach discretion to her grupo. All this will change when I am ordained as their squire.…”

He was already bigger than any of the True Human crew despite his youth, and the figure he cut hovered uncertainly between strength and pathos.

“That’s all right,” said Tonio unhappily. “Forget it, forget it.”