Read Under the Canopy Online

Authors: Serg Sorokin

Under the Canopy (15 page)

BOOK: Under the Canopy
9.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

The family outing dragged on. It was pure suffering. At one point, my mind left the body and watched all this from the distance. I thank God and all the forest deities that I wasn't the focus of this. R'lok was thrown under the bus this time. I pitied his fate, but could do nothing about it. And then it all started to blur together…

They came to the shrine. The shaman showed them figurines and potions. The wife pointed at the dried plants on the wall and said, 'Is it natural? I want some.' Of course, she got it. The shaman also had a pile of human junk near his hut. R'lok explained that it was their way of showing respect. The daughter wrinkled her nose at that and said, 'You are just forest hobos.'

They came to a hunter who was tightening the twine on his ax. The poor man didn't know what hit him. The boy ran up to him and snatched the weapon out of his hands. The grown muscular man drew back in terror of the human child. 'I want Dad give me this!' the boy yelled. The hunter's eyes darted incomprehensibly between the boy, R'lok, the general and me. The chief couldn't do anything. The ax was lost.

And they took photos. A lot. And by "they," I mean me. I took group shots in front of the fire pit, a smoking old man, a pole, a pile of wood, you name it. Eventually, they got enough pictures, and the wife took the camera from me.

Aster clapped his hands. 'So, chief, do you have folk songs or anything of that sort?'

R'lok cocked his head and then nodded. He called a man with a string instrument. The family stood around him, expecting the show. The singer rocked on the rock he was sitting on, plucked the instrument a couple of times and started a quiet song. It sounded sad, and I saw R'lok's gaze grow distant and still.

'That's sooo depressing,' the daughter said bulging her eyes. I wanted to give her a knuckle sandwich at that moment. 'Do you have something fun?'

The singer didn't understand her question and dropped his hand off the instrument. R'lok leaned forward. 'Life not fun.'

'Tch,' the bitch of the daughter said.

'Come on, don't you have anything?' Aster asked. 'You must have some entertainment.'

R'lok thought for a moment and then went away. He returned with a fat man who had a severe limp. He was leading a thin tikili on a stick tied to its neck. The animal glared around and crouched closer to the ground. The pair reminded me of Ned and his dream pug.

'Tricks he will do tricks!' the boy said, clapping. The ax fell out of his hands and thumped on the ground.

The fat man commanded something to his pet, and it sat down. He turned to the audience and then back to the tikili. The animal was looking at him with expectation. He grunted something and clapped his hands. Nothing happened. He repeated the command. The tikili whined, and its tongue fell out, dangling like a pendulum. He repeated the command for the third time. When the animal again did nothing, the man grabbed it by a hind leg, pulled the rear into the air and started to punch his pet. The tikili yelped. R'lok didn't know what to do. The boy laughed and clapped. The wife took pictures.

Suddenly, the ordeal was over. The general swayed to my side, scaring the shit out of me, and slapped an arm over my shoulders. 'Listen, Wealder,' he said. 'We had a good time here, but it's time to go. You did well. I'll say a few kind words about you when the time comes.'

'What time, sir?' I said in a shaky voice.

He leaned closer. 'The time for your next promotion, corporal. We always need people with,' he waved his hand in the air, 'communication skills.'

'Yes, sir. Glad to be of service, sir.'

Aster slapped me on the arm. 'And I'm always glad to meet an enthusiastic young man like you.' He turned to the family. They were posing for a photo again, this time with skinned animals hanging upside down as the background. 'Honey bunny, bring the kids. We are leaving.'

'Pfft. At last,' the daughter said.

'Don't scoff,
miss
,' the wife said. 'Fresh air is good for you.'

She didn't respond and got into the floater, stepping over the guards. The boy ran after her with the ax on his shoulder. He was followed by the wife and the security. R'lok and I were trailing behind like puppets.

Aster jumped on the hatch, turned to us and gave a salute. 'Bye, Wealder.' He went in and closed the door.

The floater heaved, raising a cloud of dust, snow and ash out of the fire pit, and rose into the air.

'Sorry for this,' I said to R'lok. 'I couldn't do anything about it.'

The alien was looking at the metal floater in the air. 'Not all thundergods equal,' he said with a ghost of existential melancholy in his voice. 'I understand.' So true, my friend. So true.

The floater turned south, in the direction of the city, gained speed and disappeared beyond the green canopy. The ordeal was over. The masters of the Universe had left us, mere mortals. I remembered who brought them onto me and sighed.

Thanks, Edlon. Much obliged!

Ort Tells a Story

Shortly after the general's visit I received a message from Ort. This was unusual as of itself, but what it read was even more provocative.

'Come and meet me. Take more rounds. Here are the coordinates.'

Intrigued beyond belief, I armed up, stuffing spare magazines in the pockets of my raincoat and belt, and followed to the provided coordinates. What did he have on his mind? Whatever it was, it must have been something big.

When I arrived at the site, I found nothing. The forest was still and quiet, the sun was making its way through the thick canopy and lightened the gray world beneath. The winter was coming to an end, and the nature was getting rid of that little snow that still lay around. I saw a large group of beltyshes below me. They were sitting on the ground, fussing around as if they usually did. Some of them climbed up the trees and looked at me with curiosity. I must have been a boring sight because they almost immediately turned their attention to something else. I only smiled at that. People and aliens alike quarreled and fought each other, but those critters didn't have a worry in their lives. Except for survival, of course.

'Hello, Wealder.'

I flinched and saw Ort approaching me from behind a tree. Was he hiding there? I knew there was no point asking.

'Hello.' I smiled and spread my arms. 'As you see, I'm here. So, what's the matter?' Ort looked tense and sullen, even more than before. I suspected the worst. 'Is it something with you-know-what?'

'No.' His reply sounded like a report. 'I should have a talk with you. An important one. But first we shoot.'

I leaned forward on the handles. 'Whom?'

He looked down. 'Them. Every single one.'

I looked down too, though I knew perfectly well what was there. Beltyshes. I didn't understand what was happening, it all seemed absurd. 'But why?' I looked at the big ranger again. 'We are supposed to protect them!'

'Exactly. Remember how you got lost in the woods? You killed tikilis. A lot of them. Natural predators. Without them, the monkeys have bred beyond the limit. There is a balance in nature. Predators need to cull others so the habitat could sustain them all. You took them out. I hoped that winter would kill some. Didn't happen. The spring is coming. Breeding season. By the summer they would devastate the area. We have to remove the excess. Eliminating this group is enough.'

As I listened to this cluttered tirade, I felt my guts being crusted with ice. I didn't want to murder the beltyshes… But Ort was right. In my shallow thinking, I extrapolated human concerns on animals. I thought that I saved them from suffering, but instead I planted the seeds for a catastrophe. They needed to die for others to live. The forest clicked on.

'Alright,' I said. 'What's the plan?'

Ort saw something in my face, determination, understanding, or both, and his face softened. 'See that tree?' he pointed to a massive tree on the other side of the clearing. 'That's their home. They live in its hollows. I start the attack from here,' he pointed to the place opposite the tree. 'You will start beside me at a distance.' He showed that too. Our positions and the tree made a triangle. 'We will open fire on them. Herd the group to the nesting place. They'll hole up inside. The rest is just shooting inside a can. Duck soup.'

I looked at the animals below me who were enjoying their last minutes in this world. 'I'm ready.'

'Good. Let's go.' Ort dropped down and set off for his position. I followed suit.

I stopped ten feet above the ground and propped the rifle on my shoulder. The windshield was still missing, so I rested the barrel on the dashboard. The animals ahead were oblivious of their fate, but some of them took furtive glances at me and drew back. I looked at Ort. He gave me a nod and we started.

I leaned to the gunsight and searched the first victims. I chose one that was chewing some berries. One pull of the trigger, and his head popped. The animal jumped on its legs, stood up, stumbled and fell, never to rise again. My heart was breaking, but I knew that it'd pass. First kill is always the hardest. Other beltyshes started to screech and glare about. I heard Ort open fire and joined him.

Gunshots clapped over the clearing, dead animals found their rest in the grass, and the survivors retreated back, to the tree. Ort's plan worked. To help the matter, I started to honk. The blaring sound made some of them jump and scram like it was a taj attack. Before long, my scooter floated above the corpses and approached the nesting place.

The animals darted up the trunk, making it look it was bearing black fruit. I shot those who tried to jump on the neighboring trees or flee on the ground. I even got one in midair — the animal made a graceful lunge and then dropped like a brick. Whoever was left headed for the nests, fools.

The tree trunk had three hollows, which led to the big cavities. The plant was big enough not to notice such parasites inside of it. Black beltyshes jumped into the dark holes and disappeared out of sight. I could hear their hysterical screams from the inside. They thought that being high up would save them, but they were dealing with the most cunning predator of all.

Ort flew up to me and handed me something. 'This is a sound grenade. Throw it inside. Shoot whoever gets out. It must do.'

I took the small thing without asking where did he get them. The answer was too obvious. Ort pointed upward, to the upper nests. I gained altitude.

My scooter hovered before the entrance. The smell of fur, dead grass and piss hit me. And the sound, those screams of terror. An image of a concentration camp flicked in my mind and I shut it off. Wrong thinking. I heard an explosion below, followed by rifle claps. I pushed the top button on the metal fruit in my hand. The grenade slightly vibrated, and I threw it inside. Then I remembered to get out of the way. My scooter veered to the side, but too late. The boom of the explosion echoed inside the tree and shot out of the hollow, getting me.

For a moment, I couldn't hear anything, only ringing. The world rotated, and it felt like I was falling down in a spiral. I couldn't tell up from down, but I knew where I was. My hand squeezed the handlebars, I pressed the rifle to my body with the elbow and waited. Soon the delirium passed. I looked up into the hollow. No one came out. There wasn't even a sound.

Ort called me, and I floated to the last hollow. My colleague threw another grenade inside and immediately drew back, holding the rifle at the ready. He was a real pro, unlike me. The explosion snapped somewhere in the tree, and a few beltyshes jumped out. They were bleeding out of the ears and noses. The animals screeched and hung in place, not even trying to flee. One jumped ahead into the emptiness and fell to its death with a soft crunch at the end. Ort and I ended their misery.

'It's over,' Ort said. 'Land.'

Two scooters descended on the grass. I stepped down and, just before me, saw a dead beltysh. It looked at me with hollow eyes, as if accusing me of what I'd done. I stepped over it and went to Ort who was sitting on his scooter, hands on knees, waiting.

'You wanted to talk,' I said.

'Yes.' Ort looked down and furrowed his brow for a moment. 'There's something you should know about Edlon.'

'I know enough. Greedy alienist. Kooky and sleazy. Thanks, but I've had enough of his kind.'

'His kind…' Ort chuckled. 'Didn't that occur to you that he could have ratted on you. Told about the rifle and the river battle. You would have been out of here in an instant. Or maybe worse. Trial. Prison.'

That aspect escaped me, and I didn't say anything in my defense.

Ort continued his scolding of me. 'You don't know a damn thing. It's all a facade. Most men would go crazy after what happened to him.'

That piqued my interest, but I tried not to show it. 'Maybe so. But a former trauma doesn't entitle you to butcher the dead.'

Ort raised his hand. 'Wealder, hear me out. You know I won't lie to you. Make your judgment after you've heard the whole story.'

'Okay. Shoot it.'

Ort took a deep breath. His face grew sullen and old.

‘I’m bad at telling stories, but bear with me. It’s important. It all happened back when the sawmill had alien workers. R’lok was there too. Still with two eyes. He was a mediator of sorts. Took a beating for every shortcoming of his people. A good man, but strange. Something wrong in the head. But I’m not talking about him.’

‘Before you, there was a man called Tolek LaRosh. Older than me and fatter. Never missed an opportunity for a good joke. A true forester. I could have called him a friend. Sometimes we’d meet in the woods, start a fire and tell stories. Of nature, of animals and people, of life in general. Those were the good times. But he had these melancholy spells.’ Ort paused and stroked his beard. ‘I was bad company for him. But Edlon changed that.’

‘Edlon wasn't a forest person. He was completely out of place here. But he helped Tolek, and Tolek helped him. Took the young man under his wing. They became fast friends pretty quickly. Edlon’s company rejuvenated his old bones. Tolek showed him the ropes. This was a natural symbiosis.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Edlon told me about fishing trips.’

Ort nodded. ‘That and more. Don’t interrupt. They horsed around the woods, shooting and shouting. Having fun. I was glad for my friend. Eventually, they ended up at the sawmill. Had parties there. Drinking contests and such. That’s when Edlon met Audrey. It’s all about her, really. When they met, an electric charge zipped through the air. Yes. They had an affair later. And then it all ended too soon.’

Ort grew silent and stared at the ground. I waited. He grunted and hurmed. I could see that he had come to the hardest part of the story.

‘Audrey was Morkan’s assistant,’ he said. ‘A young girl and pretty. Never understood why she came to this place.’ He sighed. ‘They kidnapped her. The natives. It was all about power for them. Secret of thundergods. They wanted to get it for themselves. That’s why they came to the sawmill. Working there didn’t do much. So they tried a ritual. Couldn’t get Morkan, the chief. Audrey was the second best thing.’

‘She was making an equipment check with a foreman. They pinned him to the ground with a spear. Dragged her to a boat and drove away. The dock guard did nothing. Moron. I punched his teeth in afterwards. Fomas summoned us immediately. When I arrived, the others were already there. R’lok too, he had no part in it. Even volunteered to help. Hurm.’

‘We fooled ourselves. Thought that we could save her. At least, we tried. We tracked the boat. Went into the woods. The trail came to a dead end. We split. Unfortunately, Edlon and R’lok were the ones who found them.’

‘There was a shrine at the base of a leaning tree, in the roots. Audrey was hanging there. They drove a big stake through her, its end came out of the jugular notch. Stuffed cones into the eye sockets. Horrible things. When Edlon saw her like that, he… Well. First, he shot R’lok in the face. Then, he turned on the others. By the time I arrived, he was butting one in the head. He wouldn’t stop. I had to grab and hold him. The poor man.’

‘Of course, we killed all of them. Other workers were expelled from the sawmill. Except for Heap. He was too deep into the bottle by that point. Besides, Morkan wanted a slave as a reminder. And the pole, you’ve seen it. R’lok had it the worst. They tried to perform the ritual on him too. He escaped. Lived an outcast until you came along. Yes.’

‘Edlon, collapsed inside himself. Didn't talk to anyone for a long while. I thought he’d leave. But he stayed. Tolek left. Said that he was too old and useless. Tired. I could understand that. He finished out his term and left without saying goodbye. Time passed and then you arrived.’ Ort looked at me. ‘That’s the story. I’m finished.’

I licked my dry lips.

Ort stared into the distance. 'Don't blame Edlon for his actions,' he said in a hoarse voice. ‘If anyone has the right to hate the aliens, it's him.'

Then there was silence. His story rocked me, and I barely could stand on my feet.
Jesus wept…
The forest hid many horrors. Perhaps too many.

Ort slapped his knees. 'Well, I should get to the animals. No reason to waste pelts.'

I mumbled something and then returned to reality. 'Thanks for telling me.'

Ort smiled mirthlessly. 'Who else but me? Edlon would never open up like that. Isn't capable of it anymore.'

I only nodded in return. We shook hands. Ort took out a knife and went to the nearest beltysh. I didn't want to stay for what was to come next and flew away.

On the way home, I kept thinking of the story, driving away thoughts of what I would have done in Edlon's place. In my imagination, I already had the taste of metal and rifle grease in my mouth. Bang.

I shook my head and concentrated on the road ahead.

BOOK: Under the Canopy
9.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The China Doll by Deborah Nam-Krane
Plain Words by Rebecca Gowers, Rebecca Gowers
Wild Child (Rock Royalty #6) by Christie Ridgway
Fear of Falling by Laurie Halse Anderson
What Came From the Stars by Gary D. Schmidt
A Killing at Cotton Hill by Terry Shames
The September Sisters by Jillian Cantor
A First Rate Tragedy by Diana Preston
DeadEarth: Mr. 44 Magnum by Michael Anthony