Hunter's Run Part 12

"The eaters-of-the-young," Maneck said.

147 "They're what you're hiding from."

"It is better if this does not affect your function," Maneck said. "It must not inform your action."

"Don't f.u.c.king diverge, I got it. But I'm the guy who can tell you about being a man, and I say that if you tell me, it'll help."

"There has been too much partic.i.p.ation already," Maneck began, but Ramon cut it off.

"I know enough that I'll be spending all my time guessing. Men, they make sense of the universe. They make stories about it and then see if they are right. It's what we do. Like I thought there was something interesting about that mountain, and I was f.u.c.king right, wasn't I? So if you tell me, I can stop wondering. If you don't, it's all I'll do."

Maneck's quills fluttered in a pattern that Ramon recognized as akin to resignation.

"They came to us, to the planet that sp.a.w.ned the first of us. For many generations, they appeared to be siyanae; siyanae; their proper function appeared to flow in channels compatible with our own. We were not aware of the divergence until . . ." their proper function appeared to flow in channels compatible with our own. We were not aware of the divergence until . . ."

"Until they started killing you," Ramon said.

"Their tatecreude tatecreude expressed in crushing the hatchlings. Of the ten billion of our expressed in crushing the hatchlings. Of the ten billion of our kii, kii, fewer than a hundred thousand survived. The eaters-of-the-young would enact rituals with the bodies. It seemed to offer them pleasure. We saw no function in it. It is necessary to our function that we exist, and so those that remained followed the channels which did not include the eaters-of-the-young. Of the six hundred ships, we are aware of three hundred and sixty-two that failed to isolate themselves from the flow of the enemy. Four came here and engaged in stillness. The others we cannot speak to. Their function has entered a place of fewer than a hundred thousand survived. The eaters-of-the-young would enact rituals with the bodies. It seemed to offer them pleasure. We saw no function in it. It is necessary to our function that we exist, and so those that remained followed the channels which did not include the eaters-of-the-young. Of the six hundred ships, we are aware of three hundred and sixty-two that failed to isolate themselves from the flow of the enemy. Four came here and engaged in stillness. The others we cannot speak to. Their function has entered a place of nietudoi nietudoi. If it is part of their tatecreude, tatecreude, it will be made clear once we have achieved conjugation. If it is not, then the illusion of their existence will not be acknowledged." it will be made clear once we have achieved conjugation. If it is not, then the illusion of their existence will not be acknowledged."

Ramon sat on the ground at Maneck's feet. Tiny leaves tickled the palms of his hands as he leaned back. The soup of alien thought and terminology had been less disturbing when he had been able to comprehend none of it. Now, with every idea half making sense, every untranslatable word on the verge of familiarity, it was worse than a headache.

"They'll kill you if they find you," Ramon said. "The Enye. They'll kill you."

"It would be consistent," Maneck said.

"You know they're coming. The galley ships. They're coming here ahead of schedule."

"This is known. They have no need for stillness. Their flow is . . .

compelling."

"So that's why you have to stop the man. Ramon. The other other Ramon. If he goes to Fiddler's Jump, he tells everyone where you are, and the Enye . . . f.u.c.k! Those Ramon. If he goes to Fiddler's Jump, he tells everyone where you are, and the Enye . . . f.u.c.k! Those pendejos pendejos will come down and eat you!" will come down and eat you!"

"It would be consistent," Maneck said again.

A thousand questions swarmed in Ramon's mind. Were the human colonies sponsored by the Enye all secretly hunting missions designed to flush out hives like Maneck's? Were the Silver Enye going to turn on humanity one day, as they had with these poor alien sons of b.i.t.c.hes? If the hive were discovered, would the So Paulo colony have accomplished its mission-fulfilled its function-and if it had, would the Enye suffer it to continue? And what had the sahael sahael done to him that these things were even thinkable, these feelings possible? done to him that these things were even thinkable, these feelings possible?

Where did Maneck end and he, Ramon, begin? In his turmoil, he grabbed at a single question, clinging to it as if everything hinged on its answer.

"Why did they do it?" he asked. "Why did they turn on you?"

"The nature of their function is complex. Their flow has proper-ties unknown to us. They were like us until they were not. It had been our hope that you would reveal this to us."

149 "Me?" Ramon coughed. "I didn't know it had happened until just now. How would I be able to tell you what those mad pendejos pendejos were thinking?" were thinking?"

"The man is of them," Maneck said. "He partic.i.p.ates in their function. You possess an understanding of killing and of purpose.

You kill as they kill. Understanding what drives your killing would explicate the drive of theirs. The freedom of hard drink."

"We aren't like that. I'm not part of their f.u.c.king f.u.c.king holocaust! I'm a prospector. I look for minerals." holocaust! I'm a prospector. I look for minerals."

"But you kill," Maneck insisted.

"I do, but-"

"You kill your own kind. You kill those who are most like you in function."

"That's different," Ramon said.

"In what manner does the difference come?"

"It wasn't about being drunk. That lets it get out of hand, maybe.

It was something between the other guy and me. But I didn't eat his f.u.c.king kids kids."

"If we were to understand the nature of the eaters-of-the-young and the expression of their tatecreude, tatecreude, we might channel their flow back to its previous path," Maneck said, and Ramon heard desperation in its tone. Even despair. "It might be possible to find a new method of fulfilling their function. But I cannot find a plausible reason." we might channel their flow back to its previous path," Maneck said, and Ramon heard desperation in its tone. Even despair. "It might be possible to find a new method of fulfilling their function. But I cannot find a plausible reason."

Ramon sighed.

"Don't try," he said. "You'll only make yourself crazy. There's no way to understand them. They're f.u.c.king aliens."

Chapter 14.

Ramon surprised himself by going back to sleep, and was even more surprised in the morning when he woke up and actually found himself leaning against Maneck, who had sat stoically, un-moving, throughout the rest of the night.

Before then, though, three times before the sun rose, Ramon was a.s.saulted in his dreams by memories. One was a card game he'd played on the Enye ship during his flight out, away from Earth.

Palenki had been having a good day-there were fewer and fewer of those-and had insisted that his crew come together and play poker. Ramon felt the strangely soft, limp cards in his hands again.

He smelled the high, acidic reek of the Enye's huge bodies and the ever-present undertone of overheated ceramic, like a pan left empty in a heated stove. He'd beaten Palenki's full house with a straight flush. He remembered seeing the sick man's delight falter 151 151 and fail when the cards came down, disappointment filling the old prospector's eyes like dry tears. Ramon regretted that he hadn't folded without showing.

That was the only memory that seemed related to his strange interaction with the alien's mind. The other two were mundane moments-first, bathing in a hotel in Mexico City before going off to a brothel, and second, a meal of river fish encrusted in black pepper he'd eaten shortly after his arrival on So Paulo. In each case, the memory was so vivid that it was as if he had momentarily stopped living in the present and begun to live again in the past, as if he was actually there there rather than here, sitting on his b.u.t.t on the gra.s.s in the middle of a chilly night next to an alien monstrosity. rather than here, sitting on his b.u.t.t on the gra.s.s in the middle of a chilly night next to an alien monstrosity.

Each time he woke for a second to see Maneck sitting next to him, as still as a statue, and he got the impression that it knew what was happening to him, but it offered no advice on how best to accommodate this intrusive blooming of the past. Ramon didn't ask. It was his mind coming back to the way it should be, and that was all. Still, he wondered how many years it had been since the other Ramon had thought of that card game.

The daymartins were singing their low, throbbing song as the eastern sky lightened from star-filled blackness to a dimmer charcoal, and then at last to the cool light of morning. Something squawked and fled when Ramon rose to go for water. Whatever it was, it had snuck in and gnawed silently on the corpse of the jabali rojo jabali rojo in the night. Tenfin birds and whirlygigs flew through the trees, shouting at one another and fighting over places for their nests, food, mates to bear their children. The same petty struggles of all life, everywhere. in the night. Tenfin birds and whirlygigs flew through the trees, shouting at one another and fighting over places for their nests, food, mates to bear their children. The same petty struggles of all life, everywhere.

Larger beasts, hoppers and fatheads, came to the stream's edge, glanced incuriously at him, and drank from the water. Fish leaped and fell back. He felt himself relax as he watched it all, able to forget for a moment what he was, what his forced mission was, and how bleak were his hopes.

Then back to the camp, to eat more sug beetles, make the usual review of his biological functions for the alien, and prepare himself for the hunt. Maneck's skin was still ashy, but the oil-swirls were beginning to reappear. Its stance remained low to the ground, its movements careful and pained. Ramon wished he knew enough to judge how serious the alien's injuries were-if it was just going to keel over at some point, there was no need to make elaborate plans to escape.

On the other hand, suppose he found he couldn't free himself from the sahael sahael after Maneck was dead? How horrible, to be shackled to the alien's rotting corpse until he starved to death himself! Or perhaps if Maneck died, after Maneck was dead? How horrible, to be shackled to the alien's rotting corpse until he starved to death himself! Or perhaps if Maneck died, he he would die-they shared physical impulses through the would die-they shared physical impulses through the sahael, sahael, after all. He'd never thought of that before, and it was unsettling. Still, given the opportunity, he'd take his chances . . . after all. He'd never thought of that before, and it was unsettling. Still, given the opportunity, he'd take his chances . . .

When it had grown light enough, Ramon and Maneck rose without consulting each other and set off again, moving downstream.

The other Ramon's path tracked toward the north, though Fiddler's Jump was far to the south. Perhaps he hoped to throw off the pursuit by taking the less likely route. Or perhaps he expected to find better wood for a raft there. Or perhaps there was some other reason that Ramon had not yet fathomed.

They walked in silence, only the crackling of old leaves and needles under their feet to compete with the whooping calls of anaranjada, anaranjada, the scolding of flatfurs, the chittering chorus of vinegar crickets. It was midmorning before they came to a game path running through the trees. The soft, fibrous spoor of the kyi-kyi told Ramon that the antelope-like beast had been by within the last day, and likely the last few hours. These would have been good hunting grounds, he thought, and felt a stir of unease, the source of which he couldn't quite identify. the scolding of flatfurs, the chittering chorus of vinegar crickets. It was midmorning before they came to a game path running through the trees. The soft, fibrous spoor of the kyi-kyi told Ramon that the antelope-like beast had been by within the last day, and likely the last few hours. These would have been good hunting grounds, he thought, and felt a stir of unease, the source of which he couldn't quite identify.

Ramon guessed that they would reach the river itself before nightfall. The other Ramon was bound to be close. He guessed that it would have taken him three days to make a decent raft, if he had the right tools: ax, wood, rope. And all his fingers, of course. The other 153 153 Ramon was going to be working at a disadvantage, but . . .

But the smart thing would be to slap together something third-rate-a raft barely strong enough to float-and use it to flee farther downriver. Once he had more distance, the man could afford to spend the time to make something st.u.r.dy. It would be a balancing act: speed against the danger of trusting himself to something so flimsy that it could come apart in the water. Ramon walked, trying to remain silent, and wondered what risks he he would have taken in the other man's place. It was a tug deep in the flesh of his neck that brought his mind back to Maneck. would have taken in the other man's place. It was a tug deep in the flesh of his neck that brought his mind back to Maneck.

The alien had stopped. Its hot orange eye looked dull. The red, swollen eye had darkened like congealing blood. Its skin, neither ashen nor displaying the slick dancing patterns it had first had, was the matte texture of drawing paper and the color of charcoal.

"We must pause," Maneck said. "We must regain our strength."

Ramon felt a stab of annoyance. There wasn't time for this. But it was also a sign that Maneck was weak. The devil wasn't shrugging off the injuries from the other Ramon's trap. That, at least, was a good sign. Maneck might still be armed, but it wasn't invulnerable. If the other Ramon could only find a way to break the alien's hold on him, him, then together they could destroy it. then together they could destroy it.

Ramon pursed his lips. There was a tightening in his chest that he didn't like. Not illness, but regret. The memory of the kii kii crushed beneath the powerful Enye returned to him. As the hours pa.s.sed, the memory of the dream he'd had the night before was fading, the sadness becoming not an emotion but the memory of one. The conviction he had felt that crushed beneath the powerful Enye returned to him. As the hours pa.s.sed, the memory of the dream he'd had the night before was fading, the sadness becoming not an emotion but the memory of one. The conviction he had felt that any any price would be justified if it turned aside the horror of price would be justified if it turned aside the horror of gaesu gaesu also faded, but did not vanish. It was also faded, but did not vanish. It was Maneck's Maneck's thought, not his, and he knew it. That didn't stop him from feeling the urgency of it, though. thought, not his, and he knew it. That didn't stop him from feeling the urgency of it, though.

"All right, monster," Ramon said. "We rest. But only for a few minutes. We don't have much time."

The alien considered Ramon, its quills stirring in a way that madeRamon think it was both amused and exhausted, then trudged to the wide, thick trunk of a fire-oak with leaves as wide as Ramon's two hands together and bark that collapsed with a sound like packing foam when Maneck leaned against it. Ramon hunkered down beside the game path, rubbing his chin and staring out into the forest. It was strange to have gone so long without a shave. Normally by now his whiskers would have been getting almost long enough to go from p.r.i.c.kly to nearly soft. Instead, his neck and chin sprouted a kind of weak fuzz, like he was twelve years old again. He opened his robe and considered the scar where Martin Casaus had sliced him with the sheet metal hook. The pale line was wider now than it had been, but still not the ropy, puckered scar that it had been before the aliens got hold of him. The machete scar on his elbow was still hardly more than a lump under the skin. It was growing, though. He was becoming the man that he remembered being. And at least he could still grow whiskers. The pinche pinche aliens hadn't turned him into a woman. aliens hadn't turned him into a woman.

I'm still going to kill you f.u.c.kers for this, Ramon thought. But even though he had the intent and the focus, his rage seemed more distant; like something he had Ramon thought. But even though he had the intent and the focus, his rage seemed more distant; like something he had chosen chosen to feel rather than something that actually possessed him. It felt like being in love with Elena. Familiar but hollow. to feel rather than something that actually possessed him. It felt like being in love with Elena. Familiar but hollow.

"What are you going to do with me?" Ramon asked. "When this is over. When you kill the man, what happens to me me?"

"Your tatecreude tatecreude will be complete," Maneck said. will be complete," Maneck said.

"So what happens to someone when their tatecreude tatecreude is complete?" is complete?"

"Your language is flawed. To have completed tatecreude tatecreude is to return to the flow." is to return to the flow."

"I don't know what that means," Ramon said.

"Once our function is fulfilled, we will return to the flow," it said.

Suddenly, with a flash of insight intense enough that he wondered if it partook of the two-way flow through the sahael, sahael, he knew what would happen to them both: they would die. They would be reab-155 he knew what would happen to them both: they would die. They would be reab-155 sorbed into the "flow," whatever that was. Once they had fulfilled their tatecreude, tatecreude, they would have no reason for existing anymore, like tools that were disposed of once the job they were needed for was done. they would have no reason for existing anymore, like tools that were disposed of once the job they were needed for was done.

Perhaps Maneck was content to submit to that fate, perhaps the alien even welcomed it, but, as far as Ramon was concerned, that was another good reason to escape as soon as possible. "Whatever you say," he said wearily.

Ramon found that resting was more pleasant than he'd expected.

He was more tired than he thought he'd be. But then, he had marched all the previous day after nearly being killed in an explosion. He'd slept poorly. And perhaps Maneck's distress was carried over in some alien fashion through the still-bruise-colored sahael sahael.

The connection between Maneck's people and the Enye haunted him, but he found it difficult to wrap his mind around it in any meaningful way. A war that crossed stars, that lasted through centuries, possibly millennia. A vendetta against Maneck's kind, which had no discernible reason, which employed the human race as a tool.

They had always been hunting dogs for demons. Mikel Ibrahim, Martin Casaus, Ramon himself. Everyone, always. Dogs sent into the bush to flush out Maneck and beings like it. It was as deep a change of his view of the world as the curious fact of his twinning, but this time he didn't have the alien injunction not to diverge. He was free to think anything of this that he saw fit, and discovered that a small-time independent prospector fleeing from the governor's constabulary wasn't the right man to make sense of it all. It only made his head ache.

Instead, he wondered what Elena was doing now. It had to be near noon, and . . . how many days since he'd snuck out of her apartment before dawn? A week? More than that? He wasn't even certain of the day anymore. He wasn't religious. Sunday mostly meant that the bars were closed. So perhaps this was a weekday, and she'd risen with the sun, showered, pulled on her dress, and gone to work.

He noticed with detachment that he had never f.u.c.ked around on Elena. He'd killed men, he'd lied, he'd stolen. He'd beaten Elena and been attacked by her, but he hadn't frequented the wh.o.r.es down by the port when they were together. Even when they'd had a fight, he hadn't taken up with other women.

Elena would have killed him and and any woman he slept with, for one thing. And also, the prospect of finding a woman who would think Ramon worthy of her attention, much less of her body, filled him with either a sick dread that came from years of rejections or the quiet aloofness that sprang from the antic.i.p.ation of refusal. But besides all that, and to his surprise, Ramon found that it was simply not something that a real man did. f.u.c.k women who were for hire, yes. Tempt your friend's woman away from him, certainly. See more than one woman, yes-if you were the kind of lucky sonofab.i.t.c.h who could juggle girlfriends that way. But cheat on your woman once she'd become your woman? That, somehow, was crossing the line. Even when the woman was a crazed weasel in human skin like Elena. Even when you didn't love her, or even like her very much, it wasn't something a real man did. any woman he slept with, for one thing. And also, the prospect of finding a woman who would think Ramon worthy of her attention, much less of her body, filled him with either a sick dread that came from years of rejections or the quiet aloofness that sprang from the antic.i.p.ation of refusal. But besides all that, and to his surprise, Ramon found that it was simply not something that a real man did. f.u.c.k women who were for hire, yes. Tempt your friend's woman away from him, certainly. See more than one woman, yes-if you were the kind of lucky sonofab.i.t.c.h who could juggle girlfriends that way. But cheat on your woman once she'd become your woman? That, somehow, was crossing the line. Even when the woman was a crazed weasel in human skin like Elena. Even when you didn't love her, or even like her very much, it wasn't something a real man did.

Ramon coughed out a laugh. Maneck's turtle head rose and swung toward him, but apparently there wasn't enough mirth in Ramon's laugh to bring the wrath of the sahael sahael.

"Turns out I've got morals," Ramon said."I wouldn't have thought so."

"And this sound. It was an expression of surprise?"

"Yeah," Ramon said. "Something like that."

"And what is the reason for displaying the food in a tree branch?

Would it not be better to consume it?"

Ramon frowned his confusion, and Maneck gestured toward the crotch of the tree under which they sat. There, wrapped in leaves that almost obscured the blood, was the skinned body of a flatfur.

Ramon shifted the sahael sahael over one shoulder and climbed up to look at the corpse. It was like the one he had found by the lake. Hidden, over one shoulder and climbed up to look at the corpse. It was like the one he had found by the lake. Hidden, 157 157 but hidden poorly. He was a little disconcerted that he hadn't noticed it himself. Scavengers would find it by its scent, the way they had found the jabali rojo jabali rojo that Maneck had killed. Ramon's twin was doing something. But . . . that Maneck had killed. Ramon's twin was doing something. But . . .

With a feeling of connection that was almost physical, he understood. He remembered Martin Casaus, back in the early days when they'd been friends. The drunken stories he'd told of trapping chupacabras, chupacabras, using fresh meat as bait to lure them into a pit . . . using fresh meat as bait to lure them into a pit . . .

"That c.o.c.ksucking son of a wh.o.r.e," Ramon said under his breath, and then dropped back down to the ground. "That pendejo pendejo's f.u.c.king insane insane!"

"What do these words mean?" Maneck demanded. "The display of the food is aubre aubre?"

"No, it's got a function. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d is leading us into a chupacabra chupacabra's range, and these things are meant to draw it toward us."

"This chupacabra chupacabra. It is dangerous?"

"f.u.c.k yes. It'll kill him if it finds him."

"This would undermine his function," Maneck said. "His actions lack meaning."

"No, they don't. He knows we lived through the blast. He's seen us, and he knows we're close enough that he won't have time to build a raft. He's tired, he's hurt, and he knows we're going to catch him.

So he's trying to put us in the same place as the chupacabra, chupacabra, and hope that it kills us before it kills him. It's a crazy risk to take, but it's better than giving up," Ramon said, and shook his head in admira-tion. "That's one tough and hope that it kills us before it kills him. It's a crazy risk to take, but it's better than giving up," Ramon said, and shook his head in admira-tion. "That's one tough cabron cabron we're up against!" we're up against!"

For a moment, Maneck's shoulders rose in confusion, but then it seemed to understand what Ramon was saying and feeling. Perhaps the sahael sahael had given the alien some insight into human perversity. had given the alien some insight into human perversity.

"We will find the man before this happens," Maneck said, rising to its full height.

"We'd f.u.c.king better, better, " Ramon said. " Ramon said.