Dante's Equation Part 50

After he'd emerged from his vision of Jacob's ladder, his sickness was gone, as the old man had promised. And he'd had an undeniable certainty about what he had to do. He hadn't liked it, but that was no longer material. So he'd borrowed several knives from the Khashta tribe. One of them he put in his belt. The other he tied with a vine to a long branch, making a rough spear. Then he began the long trek to Sapphia.

He had pressed his pace because he had a gnawing sense that Eyanna was already in trouble. The last night he slept only for a few hours, following the riverbank in the dark. But when he drew close to the entrance of the horseshoe gorge, it was already too late. Through the foliage came the tender grunts of beasts and the m.u.f.fled cries of Sapphians.

Denton stopped in the jungle, the sounds on his ears turning him cold. How soft they were for what was actually going on, and how ghastly.

His memory of theskalkits , of what had happened that morning in the clearing, came back to him in vivid, reeking color. How easily the beasts had consumed the Sapphians, how enormous they were, how intelligent, how strong. When he'd left Khashta he had not even let himselfthink that it might come to this. If Eyanna was there, she was among the victims in the clearning, there was nothing he could do. He could never fight theskalkits .

The momentum that had gotten him this far-self-disgust more than anything-deserted him. He was swamped by a sense of futility and insignificance. He would have to turn around and leave. It wasn't like he hadn't tried. Right?

Then he remembered the feeling of someone behind him, cutting his bonds when he'd thought all hope was lost. Eyanna had done it. She had faced theskalkits .

He was no less terrified, but he raised his spear up in one shaking hand and the knife in the other. It felt stupid, out of character, like a rag doll wearing armor. Who did he think he was kidding? He couldn't do this. Yet he crept on, step by step. And suddenly he could see the clearing through the trees.

There were twoskalkits , the same ones that had almost fed upon him, and there were three empty, bloodied trees, the vines hanging down ripped and worn like used dental floss. One of theskalkits was tonguing the ground underneath one of the trees. The other was licking a forelimb clean.

Two of the trees were still occupied. On one was a Sapphian boy, barely a man. On the other was Eyanna.

Denton was both genuinely relieved to see her and, shamefully, disapointed. It wasn't too late to save Eyanna. She wasn't, for example,dead . That meant he actually had to do this. He took a deep breath, his stomach starting to get seriously upset, and began to edge around the clearing. He would approach her from behind her tree. Theskalkits wouldn't be able to see him. He would do just what she had done. He'd cut her bonds, keeping himself out of theskalkits' sight, and they'd slip away noticed. It could work.

But as he moved, the bunny instinct in his brain had something more to say about it.

What if theskalkits smelled him? Or heard? Or what if Eyanna couldn't slip away? What if theskalkits went after her? Could Denton do what she had done, draw their attention? No. No freaking way. He didn't have her speed or stealth; it'd be suicide.

He went on.

From the trees behind Eyanna he could see the way her arms were tied. They were red and swollen; the vines were tight. He tucked his spear under his arm to free his hands and slipped out into the clearing. He was a nervous wreck by the time he reached her. His hands were all goosey, and twice the edge of the knife slipped off the rubbery vines. He cut and cut and cut, his ears ringing with the pounding of his own blood. He couldn't see theskalkits but he could hear them. They did not seem to be getting any closer. The freaking vines took forever.

And while he cut, Denton did not feel brave. He'd thought that he might, once he was in action, that some latent testosterone might kick in but, no. He was petrified and sweating and nauseous and not remotely manly. Hehated this.

The vines broke. Eyanna was free.

Denton wanted to turn immediately and flee but he made himself edge around the tree to make sure she was okay. Theskalkits came into view. One of theskalkits was yawning hugely, but one-the smart, evil one-was already looking at his next victim. He was stalking the boy with that intent expression. The Sapphian was tied to the tree, his head slack on his chest in either unconsciousness or resignation.

For a moment, Denton was mesmerized. Then he remembered that he was, like, in danger, and he turned to look at Eyanna and she was gone. He scanned for her, panicked . . . and saw her white-gold hair like a beacon. She was across the clearing, just inside the trees. She was standing there, watching him, and he thought she must have run when she'd found herself freed, and then had remembered to worry about him and had come back to make sure he got out.

Good old Eyanna. Wasn't she sweet?

He motioned at her to go and started backing away toward the woods himself, quietly, quietly. And for a moment he thought they were actually going to make it. Theskalkits were full and not paying attention and, anyway, the boy appeared to be next on the menu. They were going to survive this intact, and then all he had to figure out was how to get her. . . .

Eyanna moved into the clearing. She was not leaving. She washeading for the boy .

Denton ran through about a million curses in his head. Of course it couldn't have been that easy. Oh, no! He had way too much payback coming for that. Somewhere up there, someone was having a laugh riot.

He ran into the trees, still cursing. He ran for quite aways before he realized what he was doing. He was running away from the clearing. He was abandoning Eyanna.

He stopped, overcome with frustration. He stood there debating with himself. It was the old Denton and the new having it out. The old Denton was adamant, and he had a point. He had already risked a lot to free Eyanna. It was not his fault if she wanted to throw herself back into the frying pan. He was not responsible.

c.r.a.p.

He got glimpses of the clearing through the leaves as he snuck back, spear in one hand, knife in the other, and neither one feeling any less ridiculous. He saw theskalkit nuzzle the vine that held the unconscious boy's arms, lips drawn back, teeth gnashing. He saw Eyanna creeping toward them from the side of the clearing, completely exposed.

Denton stopped at the edge of the woods, not knowing what to do or if he'd do anything at all. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly. Theskalkit 's nuzzling loosened the boy and he fell, slumping forward. He was delicately caught and lifted in theskalkit 's open mouth. Eyanna, close to theskalkit now and still unseen by the monster, darted forward and grabbed one of the boy's arms.

Man. She was a freakinglunatic .

Theskalkit saw Eyanna then, all right. It roared l.u.s.tfully with a full mouth. Eyanna pulled the boy's arm. Theskalkit moved its head back. In a minute the two of them were engaged in a full-out tug-of-war. Theskalkit could have just closed its jaws and crushed the boy, but it apparently didn't want to, because it held him just enough to keep Eyanna from taking him away.

The unusual sounds attracted the attention of the secondskalkit , who looked up and let out a bellow that was so loud and so enraged that it made every hair on Denton's head stand to attention. But Eyanna didn't seem to hear. She was still playing push-me-pull-me with the boy, and now she was yelling and kicking at theskalkit 's front legs. She did not see the otherskalkit coming. It blindsided her, s.n.a.t.c.hing her right off the ground with a whip of its head.

Theskalkit had her left arm and shoulder and upper chest in its mouth, and it was not being delicate. Her legs kicked and jerked. She pounded at theskalkit 's nose with her fists.

And that was it. Denton found himself plowing out of the trees. He was running across the clearing with his spear raised in one hand and from his mouth came a scream that was only slightly lower in decibel than theskalkit 's. He screamed from somewhere deep inside him and it sounded . . . by G.o.d, it soundedp.i.s.sed .

For a moment, as he closed the distance between them, he was both in his body and observing himself, stupefied, from someplace high above. Then he reached Eyanna and theskalkit and the spear was in his hand so he thrust its as hard as he could into the beast's side. The knife went in, deep. Denton was amazed. He had actually pierced the thing and hurt it. It let out a bellow of pain. He grabbed the spear and pulled. He was afraid the knife would be lost in theskalkit 's thick hide but it came out, still secured to the branch. Theskalkit snarled and dropped Eyanna. It reared back, its front legs coming off the ground, and Denton saw the white flesh of its belly. He thrust the spear again, aiming for the heart.

Theskalkit 's cry became deeper, more enraged, but it did not fall over or give up. No, it was still very much alive and more dangerous than ever. Gripped only by blind necessity now-kill or be killed-Denton pushed down on the handle of the spear, fishing around inside theskalkit , looking for the heart. It was hard. Theskalkit thrashed. The handle of the spear cracked.

Then something struck him a ma.s.sive blow from behind. He flew, like a pebble being tossed, and struck the ground. It almost knocked the breath out of him. He gasped and rolled over. Above him the secondskalkit had discarded the boy and now fully, enthusiastically focused on ripping him to shreds. It waved its clawed feet at him, letting out a growling yelp of l.u.s.t and greed and rage.

Denton lay there, looking up at the hideous, deadly thing. And he laughed.

Ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.He had no idea where it came from. It was not a feeling Denton Wyle had ever had before. But suddently he felt freakinggreat . He was not afraid. Even with that thing hovering over him, he was not afraid. For the first time in his life he felt free and powerful and so brilliantly, wonderfully pleased with himself.

He, Denton Wyle, was fighting two enormousskalkit . And heloved it.

"Denton!" Eyanna yelled.

He rolled out of the way just as theskalkit 's front legs came crashing down to crush him. He bounced to his feet, grabbing the knife from his belt.

Ten feet away, he could see Eyanna looking at him with triumph. She was holding on to the end of the spear. It was still embedded in theskalkit and she had managed to find the heart. Blood was spurting from the wound in huge, splattering bursts and theskalkit was dying, its eyes half-closed in agony, its jaws frothing blood.

Theskalkit that was attacking him bellowed and charged. Denton was not afraid, but he was a little disconcerted by its speed. He dodged away, but he was not fast enough and the thing got ahold of his left arm. The teeth burrowed into his flesh and it hurt, but mostly he was just annoyed that it had gotten him. He brought up the knife in his right hand and plunged it again and again into theskalkit 's head.

Most of the blows glanced off the thick skull and teeth. But the skin was cut and ran blood, and theskalkit was surprised by the resistance. It yelped and almost let go. Then it seemed to remember that it was big and Denton very small, and it dug into his arm again with grinding intensity.

Itfreaking hurt. He was eye to eye with the thing and its huge head was ugly and smelly and meaty. A wicked eye glared at him, blindly, cold as the bowels of s.p.a.ce, grinding, applying pressure deliberately, about to break his arm.

Denton screamed, full on, leaning into theskalkit 's face. Then he plunged the knife into the creature's eye, not once, but over and over, even as the thing let go, howling in pain, even as it tried to get away.

He grabbed onto its neck with his bitten and bleeding arm as it raised its head, unwilling to let it escape. It lifted his feet off the ground and still he hung on. Still he plunged the knife into the b.l.o.o.d.y, gaping eye socket.

Theskalkit shook its head, hard, trying to shake him loose. He clung tighter. The other eye was rolling and he went for that one, too, taking it out with one hard thrust.

And then the thing whipped him loose.

He landed on the ground again with bruising force. His bitten arm sent shock waves of pain up his shoulder, but he pushed it aside. Nothing was seriously injured. He could still use the arm and he would.

Theskalkit was staggering around the clearing, both eyes out, blood streaming down. It was letting out blood-curdling sounds and, not far away, the Sapphians had to be hearing it. Denton was glad. He stood up, the adrenaline pumping through him. Eyanna came to him and hugged him. He could see on her face that something had changed for her, too. She pulled on his arm, wanting to go to the boy, ready to leave.

But he was not ready to let go of it yet. This was the finest moment of his life, d.a.m.n it, and he would ride it to the end.

"One minute, Eyanna."

He picked up his knife from where it had fallen when he'd been thrown and headed for the blindedskalkit .

The boy revived and, beyond cuts and bruises and a bit of trauma, was basically all right. They left him at the clearing to wait for them, and Denton and Eyanna walked into the gorge. Denton carried a heavy load from his good hand.

They saw several Sapphians through the trees as they approached. They quickly disappeared again, faces aghast. But by the time Denton and Eyanna reached the main circle, word had spread and the entire village was huddled there in a tight, silent ma.s.s.

Denton and Eyanna stepped into the clearing. They crossed to the central fire. The Sapphians, their eyes huge, backed away.

Denton cast the head of theskalkit in front of the bonfire. He was still covered with blood, as Eyanna was. He wanted them to see it.

"This is askalkit . This is the terrible death you send your sons and daughters to every week. I thought you should know."

No one said a word. Some of the Sapphians looked away, at the woods, and the sky, anything.

"And we're taking Eyanna's children."

They were there, in the crowd, clinging to two Sapphian females. Eyanna approached them with a mixture of eagerness and anxiety. Denton knew the girls might be frightened and not want to go. But Eyanna spoke to them softly, kneeling, and within a few minutes she had gotten them to transfer their clinging arms to her. She stood, holding the two of them, one against each shoulder.

Denton looked around at the Sapphians one last time. He saw anger in a few eyes, anger at him. He smiled. "Let's go, Eyanna. This is a terrible place."

He took the youngest child from her and together they walked away from Sapphia.

20.3. Seventy-Thirty Jill Talcott

The alien got into an air car that was parked outside the antenna field and Jill got in as well, her b.u.t.t poised half in and half out of the narrow seat. As with the elevator, there was hardly any sense of lift. The car glided through the buildings like a whisper of air. Jill watched the streets carefully and only realized after a moment that she was looking for Nate. She didn't see him, but there was no reason that she should. He was probably not in this section of the City at all.

"What do I call you?" she asked, trying to establish some kind of personal contact.

"My designation does not translate. If you find it necessary to address me, you may use 'Cargha.' "

"Cargha. My name is Jill Talcott."

"Yes. I do not find any sense to your name in your language."

"It's just a name. What do you call this planet?"

"Difa-Gor-Das."

He glided the car smoothly to a landing. It was difficult for Jill to judge how far they had come, though she had been paying attention. The City was so mindlessly the same and the air car's speed so much faster than she was accustomed to.

She followed Cargha into a tall building and onto the elevator, which they rode up a dozen floors. They exited into a large room filled with computers and enormous box-shaped machines.

"Are these storage units?" Jill guessed, crossing to one of them.

"Yes. It is the insulation that makes them large. These units are protected against high degrees of radiation. That one stores ten billion data files."

He sat down at a computer, his fingers flowing over the screen. The screen's data changed so rapidly Jill couldn't catch a word of it. He looked as if he were conducting music. His expression was glazed.

Jill pulled a seat closer and sat down. Although it still made her uneasy to be physically close to such a strange being, she was determined to watch him operate the computer. "What are you doing?"

"We estimate that it will be only an additional three-point-four centuries before the planet is completely depopulated. The legacy must be ready by then, so I have no time to waste, even though statistically I will be among the last survivors. That was why I was chosen for this office."

"I see."

Jill found it disturbing how calmly Cargha accepted his species' demise. In fact, now that he was back at work-his fingers flew while he conversed-Cargha seemed willing, even eager, to talk about it.

"Statistically, it is probable that proper recipients will arrive to retrieve the legacy within one million years. However, the legacy will be fully protected for twice that long, two-point-two million years. The chance that proper recipients will find it in that time is ninety-three percent. We are comfortable with that percentile. To get to one hundred percent we would have to protect the legacy for twenty-point-six million years, a time frame outside our capability."

"Even so-two million years! What exactly is in the legacy? Do you have any great masterpieces? Or maybe books by great scientists?"

Cargha contemplated this while his fingers never hesitated. His head tilted to one side as if searching through her mental concepts to find something he could relate to. "I do not understand."

"We have great works of art, for example, paintings of famous historical battles or portraits. . . ."

This was getting no response.

"Okay, what about books? For example, we had a scientist named Charles Darwin who wrote a famous book on the evolution of species. Surely you have similar works. Maybe on wave technology?" she added hopefully.

"The data on evolution of the species is in the legacy files along with all of our other knowledge. But we do not define such things by the individual that discovered them. All citizens provide valuable work in the advancement of our species."

Somehow, that didn't sound very appealing to Jill.

"We do record information about our individuals," Cargha continued. "The legacy includes data on all individuals who have lived in the past one hundred fifty thousand years, which is as long as our records have been one hundred percent accurate. We have partial records before that time, and they have been stored in the legacy even though they are imperfect. For example, the legacy contains the birth designation of each individual, a map of their genetic DNA, their areas of expertise, and links into their specific work in the legacy."

"What kind of work?"

Cargha brought up a file for a male who had been born 603 years ago and had "ceased" 300 years ago. He had been a specialist on the microstructure of minerals. His work on the subject went on for pages and pages-equations and chemical charts-but Jill could see no hint of individuality, of personality.

"This male's work consists of one thousand pages in the mineral database, of which there are six million pages," Cargha said.

Again Jill balked, her mind unable to comprehend those kinds of numbers. Six million pages? Onminerals ? How, in G.o.d's name, could it take 6 million pages to describe anything, much less minerals? She squinted at the page in front of her, one page of accomplishments by that 300-year-old male. It was data. Just data.

With a thrill of horror, Jill got a very clear sense of what the legacy contained. Certainly there would be some interesting technology in all of this. How could there not be? But what she had a deeper sense of was the reams and reams and reams and reams of carefully collated and horribly pointless information that no one, and certainly not another species, not the "recipients," was ever going to bother wading through.

Perhaps it was the earlier shock with the machine, perhaps she had already lost her faith in science at some fundamental level, but she suddenly had a paradigm shift. In a moment this intriguing, envy-inducing high-tech culture had become a pure waste that was terrifying in its scale. She felt physically ill.

"Our database is almost complete," Cargha said. "In one hundred years it will be final, except for the last two-point-four hundred years of our existence. But only an estimated twenty members of the species will be living then. At that juncture I will begin making copies of the data. I will make two thousand thirty-three copies of the data in twenty different storage mechanisms, including holistic, digital, optical . . ."

His fingers moved obscenely over the computer screen, his eyes fixed open and staring.

Jill had a flash, seeing herself working, completely focused-just as blindly. What had Nate said to her? That there was no point in collecting the data about this planet if they couldn't get home? If there wasn't ause to put it to? And here was this creature, busily working away in his warren on things no one would ever care about while his civilization died all around him. Fiddling while Rome burned. Was that really her?