Hunter's Run Part 25

h.e.l.l, maybe they'd kill him anyway, even if they did understand.

Who could know? But life was a risk. That was how you knew you were living.

The morning came late that far north, and Ramon had to cycle through startup three times before the lift tubes all de-iced the way they were supposed to. It was just shy of noon before he took to the sky again, skimming over the snow-laden treetops, watching the ice clouds high over the mountains, and humming to himself. Off to thewest was the thin silver-white band that was the Rio Embudo, where he'd almost died. Somewhere in that flow-eaten by fish, his bones washed out to sea-the other Ramon had by now become part of the world in a way that could never be undone. Ramon touched his brow in a sign of respect for the dead. "Better you than me, cabron, cabron, " "

he said again.

He had been afraid that the change of seasons would have made the discontinuity in the land's face hard to find. He'd budgeted three days to poke through the mountains, but he didn't need them. He put the van down in the same upland meadow where he'd landed so long ago, in another life, wrapped himself in warm, waterproof clothes, and took up his new field kit. It took him less than an hour to divine the shape of the stone beneath the snow, to recognize where exactly he was and where he wanted to go.

As he trudged through the snow, he pulled the caver's spike from his pack. It was as long as his forearm with a tempered, sharp point and a small blasting cap on the end. Ramon had also brought coring charges, but he didn't want to take down the whole rock face again if he didn't have to. When he reached the cliff, he dusted it with his hands, looking for a likely spot, paused to judge the overhanging snow-dying in an avalanche would be a stupid way to go, at this point-and set the caver's spike.

It fired off with a sharp, dry report. White-feathered lace crows unfolded themselves awkwardly from the trees, squawking in complaint, and tenfin birds flew up along the slope, crying like grieving women. Hopefully the tip of the spike had driven into the silvery metal of the hive. Ramon remembered what he'd felt like, walking up to that imperfect mirror, seeing his own foggy reflection stumbling toward him out of it.

For a long time, nothing happened. Ramon began to wonder if he'd gotten the wrong place. Or if the spike hadn't gone in far enough. Or if the aliens had abandoned the hive, fleeing to some 303 303 even more distant corner of the world, or maybe burrowing deeper into it. That would have been just his luck. What if they'd decided that his own escape had const.i.tuted gaesu gaesu after all, and all commit-ted suicide? What if inside the mountain there was nothing but the dead? after all, and all commit-ted suicide? What if inside the mountain there was nothing but the dead?

But as he began to turn back to the van to get the coring charges, to try again, the snow far above him and off to the left shifted.

Great sheets of it crumbled and fell as the stone beneath it irised open. A hole appeared, blacker from being set in the white of winter.

And then, with a high-pitched whine like a centrifuge spinning up, a yunea yunea emerged, its pale, ropy sides shining the yellow of old ivory. emerged, its pale, ropy sides shining the yellow of old ivory.

The box hovered for a moment as if considering him.

Ramon waved his arms, trying to catch the thing's attention and also show that he wasn't afraid of it. He'd come there intentionally. The alien craft hovered, shifted one way and then another, as if trying to make sense of him. Ramon, rea.s.sured by the alien's hesitation, lit a cigarette and grinned into the cold wind. The slats of the yunea yunea's side thinned, and Ramon saw the alien form within. It was perhaps two meters tall, its skin yellowish with a swirling pattern of black and silver that was scarred in places from old wounds. One of the hot orange eyes had darkened permanently. Ramon smiled at his old friend and captor.

"Hey, monster!" he shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth.

"Come on down! Another monster wants to talk to you!"

About the Authors

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN is the perennial is the perennial New York New York Times Times bestselling author of the epic, critically acclaimed, and widely popular fantasy series Song of Fire and Ice. bestselling author of the epic, critically acclaimed, and widely popular fantasy series Song of Fire and Ice.

GARDNER DOZOIS is a highly esteemed author and Hugo Awardwinning editor of several SF antholo-gies and, for twenty years, is a highly esteemed author and Hugo Awardwinning editor of several SF antholo-gies and, for twenty years, Asimov's Science Fiction Asimov's Science Fiction magazine. magazine.

DANIEL ABRAHAM's fi rst SF novel, Shadow in Summer, Shadow in Summer, was included on was included on Locus Locus magazine's Recommended Reading List for 2006. He is a winner of the International Horror Guild Award and has been nominated for the Nebula Award. magazine's Recommended Reading List for 2006. He is a winner of the International Horror Guild Award and has been nominated for the Nebula Award.

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Also by George R. R. Martin

Dying of the Light

Windhaven (with Lisa Tuttle)

Fevre Dream

The Armageddon Ring

A Song of Ice and Fire

A Game of Thrones

A Clash of Kings

A Storm of Swords

A Feast for Crows

A Dance with Dragons (forthcoming)

The Winds of Winter (forthcoming)

A Dream of Spring (forthcoming)

Also by Gardner Dozois

Strangers: A Novel

The Year's Best Science Fiction: The 24th Annual Col -

lection (editor)

The Best of the Best 2: Twenty Years of the Best Short Science Fiction Novels (editor)

Wizards: Magical Tales from the Masters of Modern Fantasy (edited with Jack Dann)

Dangerous Games (edited with Jack Dann) The New s.p.a.ce Opera (edited with Jonathan Strahan) Also by Daniel Abraham

The Long Price Quartet

A Shadow in Summer: Book One

A Betrayal in Winter: Book Two

An Autumn War: Book Three (forthcoming) The Price of Spring: Book Four (forthcoming)