The Mantooth Page 3

  To the left of them, due south at a distance of roughly five miles, laya massive sandstone ridge, descending from a high central erg in twolong arms that reached out west and southwest beyond the edge of sight.Eroded by wind and water, it reminded her most of photographs she hadseen of Monument Valley in the west, though not so old or well defined.

  Then there was the phenomenon of the line of granite cliffs from whichshe now surveyed the valley. As nearly as she could tell it randirectly north-south at an altitude varying from five- tofifteen-hundred feet. At its base, directly below them, a shallow gorgecrept slowly southward to end in a shadowed overhang at the foot of thesandstone ridge. How the two lines of vastly divergent rock had cometogether to form such a neat corner she could not guess. Perhapsviolent flooding had deposited the sand during a great turmoil of thesea, then left it to slowly age and weather through the interveningcenturies. How many she dared not even think. The contrast between thetwo was like day and night.

  And to the southwest there occurred yet another bizarre conflict.Directly in front of them, across the gorge, lay a vast andgentle-hilled grassland, dotted with muddy pools and small clusters ofwide, African-looking trees. Large herds of grazing animals saunteredacross it at a distance which defied close description. But at the footof the sandstone was only cactus and desert prairie. The meeting of thetwo, in a long zig-zagging line between rows of opposing hills, wasawkward at best.

  And farther west, beyond the savanna larger hills appeared, covered withtrees and high bramble, leading away out of sight. The horizon to thenorth was similar, but here the hills were sharper, velveted with pine,and broken by stark projections of weather-worn granite, apparently theoldest and most ?natural' part of the Valley. That is, shethought, they seemed the least out of place.

  She tried hard to read its subtle clues, but still the riddle ofconflicting landscapes eluded her. The only certainty was that thenuclear holocaust had been everything its foretelling prophets had saidit would be: a complete annihilation of the world she had known, with asavage and unpredictable rebirth.

  Like echoes of a mournful dream, all manner of warm and painful memoriesnow seemed to come to her from out of the day, phantoms of a past toobeautiful to be real. She thought of her peaceful home in the wooded,northeastern town. Her father, her friends. All dead. Why had shebeen left to go on living? She remembered the words of the Spirit:'glorious struggle,' and 'the flame within.' But where wasthe glory when all she could feel was pain and emptiness? Where was Henow? And as she looked out upon the scene that Nature played beforeher, she realized for the first time and with crushing certainty thatlife was finite. Physical reality . . .was real. The message hammeredinto her relentlessly: all things must one day pass. She would die, asa hundred billion creatures had died before her. DIED.

  It all became too much. Seeking escape, her mind returned to thepresent. But that only made her think of her friend, the gentle wolf,still trapped inside the cave, still in great danger. And as the suncontinued to set far in the west, turning sky to purple and clouds topink, she had all but given up hope when the downward spiral of herthoughts was broken by the gentle tremor of wings overhead.

  The sound seemed to come from above and behind her, moving withdeliberate slowness toward the nearer reaches of the sandstone ridge,now painted a deep orange-red and pocked with growing shadows.Straining her eyes in the failing light, she thought she saw a large,multi-winged creature land gracefully atop a weathered crag that shot uphigh above the rest. But in the distance and gathering darkness shecould not be sure.

  'Kalus!' she whispered loudly. 'Come quick, there'ssomething out there.'

  Startled but alert, the man-child rose instantly. Moving to join her atthe entrance, what he saw filled him with fierce pride. For there inthe distance, perched majestically in dark silhouette against a fadingsky, his eyes perceived the outline of the Mantis, undisputed monarch ofthe Valley. Even at that distance he could read its features clearly:the stately upper body, the foreclaws held so effortlessly, and thesmallish, triangular head, pivoting easily to scan the domain that washis and his alone.

  'The Mantis!' he exclaimed, trying hard to keep his voice down.'Now we will see what happens to those foolish enough to crosshim!'

  *

  The Mantis remained motionless, breathing hard. Though capable offlying great distances, the sheer weight of its body made such journeysan exhausting ordeal. He was weary to his very heart. But the Mantiswas also a master of stamina and self-discipline. He knew he had onlyto rest a short time and his strength would come back to him.

  He had landed on the ridge intentionally. It had been many days sincehe last slept in the cave, and he wanted to be sure there was no danger.Not that he was afraid---in his conscious thought he feared nothing. Hesimply had no desire to encounter a powerful enemy before regaining hisfull strength. But as the breaths began to come easier, he felt hisantennae tingling with anticipation. Somewhere. . .somewhere near, hesensed the presence of a spider. The vibrations seemed to come from thedirection of his cave.

  Realizing the failing light worked against him, he knew he would have toact quickly. Unfurling his four translucent wings, he lifted himselfslowly into the air. Hovering closer, he searched for clues whilereading the subtle currents of air that curled gently across thewindface. He stopped once in mid-air, turned, then surrendering to windand gravity, swooped down upon the broad ledge that bordered theentrance of the cave.

  Resting for a moment just beyond its gothic arch, he felt a sullen angerrise within him. Though not a vindictive creature, the thought of anenormous land spider keeping him from the rest and shelter of his lairsent waves of liquid anger pulsing sharply through his veined andveinless body. He did not try to stem the feeling, knowing that incertain measure it gave him strength. He simply allowed the bitternessto occur inside him, strong and distasteful, then waited for the longwisdom of his mind to diffuse it. He did not bemoan his fate, nor thinkto question the will of the Nameless. He knew what he was, and what hemust do. Summoning a courage born of countless similar encounters, hedrew in his foreclaws and entered the cave.

  Surprised and alarmed, the spider reacted in the only way itknew. Feeling trapped, it rushed directly at him. The Mantismethodically yielded his ground, leading it out onto the ledge.

  Once out in the open the spider slowed, and the two adversaries squaredoff, each in its own way trying to assess the relative size and strengthof the other. To the Mantis it was just another battle, dueling a foeit had fought many times in the past. But to the spider, still young,it was an entirely new and utterly terrifying experience. Though notintelligent enough to recognize the mantis as its mortal enemy, everyinstinct it possessed warned of extreme danger.

  Moving to the place on the ledge he had prepared for just such aconflict, the Mantis dug his four hook-clawed hind legs into carefullyetched footholds in the rock. Swaying from side to side he tightenedhis grip, extending his foreclaws to the limit. Then pawing the airlike a boxer, he stood ready for the spider's charge.

  In a way he almost felt sorry for it. He could see that it was youngand inexperienced, and as such stood no real chance against him. But healso knew that it was his place in Nature to kill it. There could be nomoral question here, only death for one and survival for the other. Andthe Mantis had no intention of dying.

  Confused and afraid the spider charged. The Mantis simply waited for itto rush blindly into his outstretched foreclaws, then clamped downsharply on the thorax joints of its first four legs. Holding itsecurely in place, he used his superior height to bring down powerfuljaws upon its vulnerable forehead. From there it was only a matter ofritual. The acidic saliva softened its thick outer skeleton, while therazor-sharp triangular jaws tore away with frightening precision. Thetarantula strained mightily, but could not free itself from themantis' vice-like grip.

  Death was painful but swift. In a matter of seconds the spider's eyesand forehead were gone. I
t felt a moment of searing pain, followed by ashudder, and the darkness and terror were gone forever.

  Dragging the lifeless corpse to the rim of the ledge, the Mantis flungit wearily into the gorge. His limbs trembling with exhaustion, heturned and strode slowly to the safety of his lair. Reaching theentrance, he thought he caught a glimpse of shadow dart past him andinto the gathering night, but by then could no longer care. Sleep wasall that mattered now---sleep, and then food. And then sleep again.

  *

  'Death to the spider!' proclaimed Kalus, trying hard to keep hisvoice down. 'Long life to the Mantis, protector of all who live inValley.' He turned and started to reenter.

  'Kalus?' asked the girl tentatively. 'Don't you feel even alittle sorry for the spider? I mean. . .he is dead now.' She feltcompelled to say something, though she wasn't sure that was it. Hestopped and considered this, puzzled.

  'Sylviana. You misread my emotions. It is not hate for the spiderbut love for the Monarch I feel. Without him none in the Valley wouldbe safe, even for a short time. Still, it is hard to feel sorrow forone who could so easily and thoughtlessly take my life. But perhapsthat is the way of things. To the wolves---'

  'Oh my God. Kalus. What will happen to him now?'

  'Sylviana,' he answered coldly. 'Not only do you know nothingof the ways of this land, but your eyesight is poor as well. If Akarwas still in the cave---he is not---there would be no danger. Thewolves are ancient allies of the mantis.' He spoke proudly now,filled with the knowledge that he alone among his people knew of thisrelationship. 'The wolves, like all hunters, are hurt by thepresence of spiders. When one is spotted by the pack, a runner is sentto bring the Mantis. Then the others keep it in sight, until theMonarch arrives to kill it.'

  The girl had listened, but only enough to know when he had finishedspeaking. She was still deeply concerned about her friend.

  'What do you mean he's no longer in the cave?'

  'Just as I said,' he replied without looking at her. He was fartoo excited by the presence of the Monarch to let her childish ignoranceupset him. 'He slipped out just before the Mantis entered.'

  'Then we should call to him, let him know where we are.' Kaluscould only shake his head at his companion's needless worry. 'Heknows where we are. He just doesn't want the Mantis to know it too.Or did you not know he could kill us even more easily than thespider?' Again he was surprised by her reaction. She seemed hurt andafraid. 'Don't worry,' he added more softly. 'He will cometo you before the night is over. You should not worry for him so. Hehas been guarding his own life far longer than you and I.'

  'I'm sorry,' she confided. 'It's just that this is allso new to me. I don't know what it means sometimes. . .and I'mscared.'

  'That is not a bad thing. I too am scared, but do not let myselfthink it. We are safe here, for this night at least. You should sleep.We have many hard choices in morning.'

  She did not answer, but looked into his eyes as if searching forsomething. Then she turned, lowered her head, and moved past him intothe shelter. Finding a place where fewer stones piqued the floor, shecrouched and looked back at him, unsure. Kalus remained motionless,returning her gaze. Finally she lay back and turned away, her eyesmisting.

  'Kalus?'

  'Yes.'

  'Thank you. . .for saving my life.'

  'You forget that you fed me, and cared for my wounds.'

  'Still.....' She let her voice trail off.

  Without further speech Kalus seated himself just inside the entrance,watching her wistfully as she drifted off into sleep, protected fromoutside danger by his own life, and by the pervasive andall-encompassing presence of the Mantis.

  Chapter 6

  Akar entered soundlessly just before dawn, the rabbit clenched securelyin his teeth. Purposely avoiding the man-child, he moved instead to theplace where his mistress lay sleeping. He placed the kill in front ofher, gently nudging her with his snout.

  Startled from an uneasy sleep the girl bolted stiffly upright, chokingback a scream. Seeing her friend she subsided, but too late to preventa confrontation. Alerted by the sound Kalus had woken, and was in nomood for the treatment he was about to receive from the wolf.

  'He's brought us a meal,' he said contentedly, rubbing thesleep from his eyes. The girl still hadn't seen the carcass. Hepointed.

  'Oh, take it away,' she said in disgust, repulsed by its sunkeneyes and contorted expression. 'Take it away.' Coming closerKalus started to reach for it, but was halted by the bared teeth andfierce snarling of the wolf.

  'It seems he wants you to have it.' He paused a moment, thinking.'Your friend has a short memory,' he said coldly, pretending tolose interest. 'When he was hungry I shared my meat with him.'

  In the split second it took for Akar to look up at him, Kalus reached inand snatched up the carcass. The wolf started to go after him, butfound the jagged point of Kalus' knife held threateningly betweenhimself and the kill. As he backed away the two squared off, Kalus onone knee and the wolf standing. Akar began to circle, looking for anopening. But the man-child turned with him, keeping the point of theknife between himself and danger. The girl cried out in desperation.

  'Stop it! Please, stop it!'

  She had tried to understand the reasons for violence in the harsh worldshe now encountered, but to see her only two companions ready to teareach other apart over a blood-stained carcass, was more than she couldbear. Bowing her head between clutching arms like a frightened child,she wept bitterly. But the tears brought no relief, only deeper anguishand despair.

  Seeing her distress the two stopped circling. Akar went to try andcomfort her, while Kalus moved indifferently to a protected corner togut and skin the carcass. He would undoubtedly have been moresympathetic had he not been hurt several times already by giving in tosimilar emotions. He was far too angry now to think of anything but hisown survival. Akar no longer tried to comfort his friend, who only keptpushing him away. Regaining her composure, she glared bitterly at bothof them.

  'Why do you have to BE like this? Why can't you just leave eachother alone?'

  Akar had not understood the words, but their meaning was clear enough.Putting away his pride, he stepped slowly and deliberately toward theman-child's unmoving form. Coming closer he drew a line in the dirtjust in front of him, signaling his desire for a truce. If Kaluscrossed the line with one of his own it would mean that the truce hadbeen accepted, if only for the moment.

  But Kalus did not answer with words and gestures of humbled acceptance.Moving his hands in simple patterns he knew the wolf would understand,he told him instead that he was angered to the point of violence by hisingratitude, reminding him that if it had not been for his own, selflessactions, neither he nor the girl would be alive at all. He then drewanother line in the dirt, not across the mark Akar had made, butparallel to his own body instead, signifying dominance, and made itclear that the wolf could either accept the truce under these terms, orfight him to the death then and there.

  Akar was curiously gratified by the man-child's response. In truth hehad not forgotten his compassion, but wanted to be sure that he wasworthy of trust. Goodness and compassion were one thing, courage in theface of danger quite another. To say that he had wholly staged theconflict as a test of the other's spirit would be incorrect; but onceit developed into such he did not try to stop it. Akar had lived toolong to give his allegiance easily or in haste. Crossing Kalus' linesolemnly, he rolled over on top of his own, blurring it into obscurity.

  Realizing what this meant Kalus relaxed, nodding gratefully. Though heknew the wolf had no intention of being dominated, he accepted thegesture nonetheless. His body weak from adrenalin's flow, he couldnot have backed up the threat if he wanted to. He did not. The trucewas accepted. He reached out an open hand, letting his new-found allylearn its scent beyond the point of any doubt. The wolf then went backto the girl while Kalus returned to the task of skinning the rabbit,trying to keep his hands from shaking as
he did so.

  'You see,' he said, speaking as much to himself as to the girl.'Things are not always as they first appear. Your friend was onlytesting me. Now we are brothers, as we could not have been before.'She nodded halfheartedly, not at all sure she believed him.

  'You won't fight anymore, will you? Please promise me youwon't.'

  'We will not fight.' He continued his work.

  There was a pause in which neither spoke. Finally Kalus broke thedeadlock with a question. He truly wished to know its answer, but alsodisliked the awkwardness that silence had placed between them.

  'Sylviana. You speak as one who comes from far away. Are you thenfrom the Island?'

  'What island?'

  'The Island of Ruins across the water.'

  'No..... No, I don't think so.' She struggled now, trying tofind the words to tell him that she came not only from a differentplace, but from a different time as well. It didn't matter. Shewasn't going to have the chance. In their preoccupation withthemselves the three had forgotten the Mantis. Awakened by the noise oftheir scuffle, it climbed toward the inadequate shelter even as theyspoke.

  It was Akar who sensed his presence first. Though he could not becertain of the scent, the wind being in the opposite quarter, the low,scratching sound of hooked claws searching for footholds wasunmistakable. He did not try to run, nor even to alert the others, butwent without hesitation to wait for the monarch at the entrance of theniche. He only hoped the Mantis would remember him.