Beowulf's Children Part 1

BEOWULF'S CHILDREN.

Larry Niven.

Prologue.

CAMPFIRE.

"Once upon a long, long time ago, our parents and grandparents left a place called Earth. They traveled across the stars in a ship called Geographic to find paradise. But their paradise turned into a living h.e.l.l . . . "

The campfire jetted white flame as it reached a gum pocket in the horsemane log. The flame held for almost a minute, then died back to glowing coals. A cast-iron skillet balanced on firestones sizzled in the embers. A sudden gust momentarily sent sparks toward the misty night sky and the stars frozen overhead.

A dozen wide-eyed youngsters were packed shoulder tight on makeshift seats of logs and stones, huddled expectantly in the dying firelight. They had waited all their lives for this night.

Justin Faulkner's voice growled, caressed, leapt, burned hotter than the ebbing flames. "From the stars they came," he stage-whispered. "Seeking to build homes where no human had ever walked. Avalon was a land untamed, stretching beneath a sky strange to human eyes. A paradise for the taking. These men and women were the best, the smartest and the bravest Earth could offer, two hundred chosen from eight billion people. Our parents. They are the Earth Born. But they didn't know the truth about their new world, a truth that you-" His long sensitive fingers, sculptor's fingers, bunched and stabbed as if each and every child were guilty of unspeakable crimes. "-you Star Born, have never been told . . . until now. Until this week. Until tonight."

Justin's voice carried the authority and infinite wisdom of all his nineteen years. None of the children was older than thirteen. Now they were youngsters, Grendel Biters. Tonight would be their first step toward becoming Grendel Scouts. At dawn they had left the human settlement called Avalon Town and hiked across the plain, along the Miskatonic River, then up Mucking Great Mountain along the minor tributary called the Amazon. Lunch and dinner were little more than stream water.

Their curious and eager shining eyes were black and brown and blue and jade, carrying genetic gifts from every people of Earth. Their limber young bodies were as perfect as the night stars, their minds filled with dreams more incandescent still. These were the exhausted young inheritors of a world new to Man.

" . . . the rivers were filled with a fish they called samlon. And they caught the fish, and ate the fish . . . " Justin slipped a knife from his belt sheath. He poked its point about in the smoking pan, skewing a morsel of sizzling meat. He held it up, worrying the ragged, black-burnt chunk of flesh with his teeth. Then he pa.s.sed both pan and knife to his right, to a ten-year-old girl with blond, shoulder-length hair.

She bit gingerly at first, then harder to tear a piece loose. The texture resembled tough beef, not at all like fish. She chewed-and the meat bit back. She clawed at her throat, gasping, but managed to pa.s.s both pan and knife to her right. A boy dark-skinned as the surrounding night made a choking sound, and whispered "Water . . . "

Their eyes misted. Some struggled with wretched coughs, but no one moved. The pan circled the campfire until there was nothing left but smoking iron.

"But one night the river which gave life to the colony, brought death. Even now, even here, high up on Mucking Great, if the wind is very quiet, on a night like tonight, you can hear old Misk calling . . . "

Justin trailed off. With superbly theatrical timing, the wind dwindled to a murmur. There in the distance roared the mighty Miskatonic, rushing past the foot of Mucking Great . . . or was that only the Amazon?

"The samlon developed legs, and teeth, and a taste for human blood. They became . . . grendels. They clawed their way from the river, gasped air, and found it good. They moved so fast that other animals looked like statues to them. They slaughtered everything they saw. Our parents fought back, but it was no use. The camp was lost. Cadmann Weyland led the survivors here to his stronghold on Mucking Great, where they made their last stand.

"And there-" Justin's thin finger cast an unsteady shadow toward the irregular chunk of stone called Snailhead Rock. "That was where my father died, torn to pieces by the ravening horde. And there on the verandah is where Phyllis McAndrews was killed, still screaming reports to the orbiting crew of Geographic. And there . . . " Justin was lost in the story now, beginning to hyperventilate. " . . . others were caught, torn apart and devoured by frenzied grendels moving faster than eyes can see.

Down there by the cliff edge-" The dark hid it. "-two men waited in a wrecked skeeter while grendels battered the walls in with their heads. And there was where Joe Sikes sent a river of fire flowing down, finally killing the grendels, saving every human life-"

Pause. The wind had picked up. When it lulled there remained no sound save the rushing waters.

"That was a long, long time ago. But sometimes on a night like tonight, if you press your ear to the ground, you can still hear the screams of the dying, as teeth tear their flesh open and devour their vitals. And you can thank the spirits of the dead that there is no longer anything to fear.

"No more monsters, no more grendels . . . " Justin paused for effect. "But if there are spirits of men, who can say that there are not spirits of monsters as well?"

His audience's young eyes were wide, and still. Their chests hardly moved as they struggled to keep control. The dogs were tethered well away from the campsite, and now, sensing the children's fear, they began to growl and strain at their leashes.

"Some say that the spirits of the dead war nightly, up here on Mucking Great Mountain. Our dead parents and grandparents pit rifle and spear and knife against fang and claw and speed, night after b.l.o.o.d.y night. They don't want to-but they must. Because if they lose, just once . . . just once . . . "

He narrowed his eyes fiercely. "The grendels will claw through the portal that separates life from death, and return to ravage Avalon again.

And not just Avalon. They'll go across the stars as we crossed between stars, back to Earth . . . "

A light dew of sweat dampened his forehead. His voice dropped to a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "What was that? Was that a scream? It sounded almost like a scream, a human scream. The scream of a soul already dead, but dying yet again. A soul now cast into some deeper, more terrible pit. And is that another? And another . . . ?"

The boys and girls strove to still their breathing and quiet their heartbeats, attempting to capture every word.

"But if the ghosts of the humans are dying once again then-"

There was a terrible shriek, and from beyond the ring of firelight lurched a woman soaked in blood. She staggered, one hand held piteously to her cheek. One eye was clotted with gore and the other was insanely wide, as if witness to all the terrors of h.e.l.l.

After her, in a blur, came something inhuman.

Ten feet of hissing reptile bounded into the firelight: splay-clawed, barb-tailed, eyes dead to gentleness or love, merciless as gla.s.s.

It smashed her to the ground, perched atop her and howled--!

The children scrambled in all directions, screaming, crying- Then silence, save for the crackle of the fire. The girl's b.l.o.o.d.y body lay still upon the ground, grendel perched above, triumphant- And then she sat up, sputtering with mirth. "Justin Faulkner, you are an utter b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

"It's the company I keep, Jessie." He grinned like a shark. "All right, round 'em up!"

The "grendel" sat up, and a stocky, muscular j.a.panese boy of about seventeen Earth years climbed out of its hollow belly. His face was darkened with charcoal, and he laughed so hard he could barely breathe. Jessica slapped him on the back. "You should make some little, tiny buildings, some miniature artillery, and do a giant monster movie, Toshiro."

"G.o.dzilla versus a four-hundred-foot grendel?" He shrugged out of the grendel skin. "You know, if we hadn't had to rebuild Tokyo every six months, j.a.pan would have ruled all of Earth."

From all around them, just beyond the reach of the firelight, larger human figures returned, shepherding their younger siblings back to the firelight.

"Come on back!" they roared. "Sissies!"

Shy, embarra.s.sed, the stragglers returned by ones and twos. They protested loudly but hid grins behind small heads, and wrung crocodile tears from laughing eyes.

Tentatively, then with growing enthusiasm, they examined the hollow grendel carca.s.s, its thick forelegs and wide jaws, its stubby spiked tail. They ran their small fingers along its scales, each imagining that it was his father, her grandmother who slew the dragon.

Justin took his place at the center by the fire, and this time spoke in a normal voice. "All right, it was a joke. Not a pointless one. We want you scared. Grendels are dangerous. The Earth Born killed all the grendels here on this island. As children you've been safe here all your lives. Now it's time to learn about your world, all of it, not just this island. We are the Star Born. This world is ours.

"You've seen a dead grendel. Now you're growing up, and pretty soon you'll go to the mainland and see live grendels. And more. It's time to learn what happened to those two hundred. Earth's best and brightest, each of those Earth Born chosen from among more people than there are stars in these skies.

"Up to now you've lived by Earth Born rules. Now it's time for you to learn why they make rules, and why we live by them.

"Time to go to the mainland, time to learn why the Earth Born act so strange, and-it's time to learn what eats grendels. Now, off to sleep."

The children reluctantly headed toward sleeping bags and bedrolls. A few of the candidates tried to ask questions, but the Grendel Scouts wouldn't answer. "Bedtime. You'll learn, but not tonight."

"Why not tonight?"

"You'll learn it all. Now scoot!"

"Can Rascal sleep in my bed tonight?"

"Sure, your dog can sleep with you."

The children tumbled off to bed, pleasantly tired, utterly ready for sleep.

Jessica winced as Justin wiped the slaughterhouse blood from her face.

"Yerch. Tomato juice would have been just as good."

"Such a thought offends my creative soul."

"I did like the wasabi in the beef heart, Toshiro. Nice little touch.

You didn't do that last year."

"Musashi said to 'pay attention even to little things.' " Toshiro stretched until his back crackled, and poked his bare feet close to the embers.

"I thought it went well," Jessica said. "Just the right balance.

Justin, you brought Sharon McAndrews. She's not twelve yet."

"She's bright, she's curious, and she's been asking questions about her mother," Justin said. "We have to tell her."

"Zack isn't going to like it."

"Freeze 'im."

"We have agreed to the rules," Toshiro said. "We don't interfere until the Grendel Biters are twelve-"

"Wouldn't work," Justin said. "Either we tell Sharon now, or in a year she'll tease the whole d.a.m.n story out of Ca.s.sandra, and then she'll tell the rest of the Grendel Biters. No preparation, just bang!, they know. This isn't the last time this is going to come up, either. Sharon won't be the only one to ask the right questions." He grinned. "And what's Zack going to do to me?"

"The Earth Born aren't always wrong," Toshiro said. His forefinger traced the scar on Jessica's neck. It was years old, almost faded, and most of it was hidden under her hair; but it trailed down her neck to her left shoulder. She s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand, and kept it.

"I'd be more interested in what Dad thinks," Jessica said. "How does Coleen feel about this?"

"She thinks she can't go on fooling her little sister much longer," Justin said. "And I agree. You know their mother."

Toshiro nodded gravely. "Oh, well. Here, I brought some real food."

They moved closer to the fire to roast chunks of turkey breast over the dying coals, and they sat talking of and laughing over small or important things: the season's fish yield; skiing on the southern peaks; a review of the previous week's hysterical debate between Aaron Tragon and Hendrick Sills. (Postulated: Adam Smith's The Wealth of Nations was actually a misinterpreted satirical essay.) Modifications in the huge dirigible, Robor. The odds on next month's surf-off. The conversation went on for hours, until the laughter finally died down, and yawning took its place.

They were the Star Born. Their electronic servants could bring them all of Mankind's knowledge: history, science, drama, the great literature of a dozen cultures, and a hundred soap operas; but they lived in a primitive paradise, utterly safe, inoculated against every disease. There was more than enough to eat, meaningful work to do, and few dangers. They were a strong, clean-limbed clan. Their parents had been chosen after tests that made the old astronaut selection procedures look like child's play. Physically perfect and bright-eyed, they radiated the kind of relaxed familiarity that only those raised in an insular community can ever really know.

There were a few minutes of intense quiet, during which eyes met across the ember light, and nods preceded gentle touches of offer and acceptance. Two at a time they linked arms and drifted off into the shadows.

And then at last there were only four left: Jessica, Justin, Toshiro, and a young redhead named Gloria.

"Success?" Jessica yawned, a question that was not a question.

"Success," Justin agreed. Another round of chuckles.

"Now it's time for the chicken run," Jessica said.

Toshiro yawned. "Ruth still wants to try it."

Justin and Jessica locked gazes, and both laughed simultaneously. "Ruth?" Justin said incredulously. Then both said at the same time, in the same little-girl singsong: "But what will Daddy say?"

They broke up again, the laughter subsiding to hiccups. " 'Pon my word," Justin said finally. "Zack ruined that child."

"She's asked to become a Grendel Scout," Gloria said. "And asking why we won't let her in."

The others shook their heads in unison. "No mainland for Camelot's eldest virgin," Jessica agreed. "Not until she breaks the leash."

Justin stirred lazily. "You have to admit she's a h.e.l.l of a chamel trainer, though."

She nodded. "Chamels are fun. Justin, the Earth Born used to explore! I remember when they brought the first chamels back from the mainland."

"And lost Josef Smeds to a grendel catching them," Toshiro said carefully.

"Yes, but-" Her eyes were locked on the northern horizon. "I won't say it was worth that, but you can't explore without risks. And every trip teaches us more. Teaches me more about myself."

"I just wish . . . "

"I know," she said quietly. Jessica intertwined fingers with Toshiro, and gave his hand a squeeze. She affected a huge yawn. "I think . . . that it's time to turn in."

They rose, and retreated from the firelight. From out in the darkness there came a gasp, followed by a prolonged and girlish giggle.

Justin watched her go, and then, belatedly, became aware of the weight of a feminine head on his shoulder. "Behind us," Gloria said. "Geographic, just rising."

He turned; Gloria turned with him. Geographic was a silver line with a dot at one end. No details showed, but it looked huge, just above the line of the ocean.

Twenty-four years ago . . . G.o.d. "Ten times the ma.s.s, back when it went into orbit. Interstellar brakes! I wish we had photos. Can you imagine how bright that drive flame must have been?"

"No humans to see it from down here. Maybe it blinded a few grendels." Gloria was almost behind him, her hands toying with his hair. "Is that really your wish?"

To see it myself! "I wish . . . that tonight was Fantasy Night," he lied.

"It's any night you want," she whispered. She reached up, turned his face with her fingertips, and kissed him blisteringly.

His hands found the warm, soft places on her body, and they sank down together by the firelight. There was no fumbling; latches and straps unbuckled as if by magic.

If anyone saw them there, no one commented. There were no gawkers as their bodies, gilded by the light of embers and twin moons, entwined for almost an hour before release finally calmed them both.

They cuddled for a time, whispering, then, suddenly freezing, scrambled for a thermal sleeping bag.

Then there was silence, save for the distant sound of water, and the call of some far-off night creature. No one heard. The fire consumed its last morsels of fuel, and began to fade. No one saw.