The Mantooth Part 3

Realizing there was nothing more she could do, she remained there in uncertain melancholy, her mind buried deep in her thoughts.

Chapter 5

Peering down at the entrance of the larger cave, Sylviana kept her vigil. Kalus had long since fallen asleep, something which troubled her deeply. She could not understand how he could be so indifferent about the fate of her only friend. She herself had remained on the lip of rock just beyond the smaller niche for what seemed an eternity, and still had seen no sign of either wolf or spider.

She had pa.s.sed much of the time by studying the awesome landscape that opened so broadly before her, her first un.o.bstructed view. And she could summon just enough geology and topography to be both puzzled and intrigued by the inexplicable diversity of it.

To the left of them, due south at a distance of roughly five miles, lay a ma.s.sive sandstone ridge, descending from a high central erg in two long arms that reached out west and southwest beyond the edge of sight.

Eroded by wind and water, it reminded her most of photographs she had seen 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 which she now surveyed the valley. As nearly as she could tell it ran directly north-south at an alt.i.tude varying from five- to fifteen-hundred feet. At its base, directly below them, a shallow gorge crept slowly southward to end in a shadowed overhang at the foot of the sandstone ridge. How the two lines of vastly divergent rock had come together to form such a neat corner she could not guess. Perhaps violent flooding had deposited the sand during a great turmoil of the sea, then left it to slowly age and weather through the intervening centuries. How many she dared not even think. The contrast between the two 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 and gentle-hilled gra.s.sland, dotted with muddy pools and small cl.u.s.ters of wide, African-looking trees. Large herds of grazing animals sauntered across it at a distance which defied close description. But at the foot of the sandstone was only cactus and desert prairie. The meeting of the two, in a long zig-zagging line between rows of opposing hills, was awkward at best.

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

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

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

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

The sound seemed to come from above and behind her, moving with deliberate 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 up high above the rest. But in the distance and gathering darkness she could not be sure.

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

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

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

He had landed on the ridge intentionally. It had been many days since he 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. He simply had no desire to encounter a powerful enemy before regaining his full strength. But as the breaths began to come easier, he felt his antennae tingling with antic.i.p.ation. Somewhere. . .somewhere near, he sensed the presence of a spider. The vibrations seemed to come from the direction of his cave.

Realizing the failing light worked against him, he knew he would have to act quickly. Unfurling his four translucent wings, he lifted himself slowly into the air. Hovering closer, he searched for clues while reading the subtle currents of air that curled gently across the windface. He stopped once in mid-air, turned, then surrendering to wind and gravity, swooped down upon the broad ledge that bordered the entrance of the cave.

Resting for a moment just beyond its gothic arch, he felt a sullen anger rise within him. Though not a vindictive creature, the thought of an enormous land spider keeping him from the rest and shelter of his lair sent waves of liquid anger pulsing sharply through his veined and veinless body. He did not try to stem the feeling, knowing that in certain measure it gave him strength. He simply allowed the bitterness to occur inside him, strong and distasteful, then waited for the long wisdom of his mind to diffuse it. He did not bemoan his fate, nor think to question the will of the Nameless. He knew what he was, and what he must do. Summoning a courage born of countless similar encounters, he drew in his foreclaws and entered the cave.

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

Once out in the open the spider slowed, and the two adversaries squared off, each in its own way trying to a.s.sess the relative size and strength of the other. To the Mantis it was just another battle, dueling a foe it had fought many times in the past. But to the spider, still young, it was an entirely new and utterly terrifying experience. Though not intelligent enough to recognize the mantis as its mortal enemy, every instinct it possessed warned of extreme danger.

Moving to the place on the ledge he had prepared for just such a conflict, the Mantis dug his four hook-clawed hind legs into carefully etched footholds in the rock. Swaying from side to side he tightened his grip, extending his foreclaws to the limit. Then pawing the air like 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 young and inexperienced, and as such stood no real chance against him. But he also knew that it was his place in Nature to kill it. There could be no moral question here, only death for one and survival for the other. And the Mantis had no intention of dying.

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

Death was painful but swift. In a matter of seconds the spider's eyes and forehead were gone. It felt a moment of searing pain, followed by a shudder, and the darkness and terror were gone forever.

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

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

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

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

'Oh my G.o.d. Kalus. What will happen to him now?'

'Sylviana,' he answered coldly. 'Not only do you know nothing of the ways of this land, but your eyesight is poor as well. If Akar was still in the cave---he is not---there would be no danger. The wolves are ancient allies of the mantis.' He spoke proudly now, filled with the knowledge that he alone among his people knew of this relationship. 'The wolves, like all hunters, are hurt by the presence of spiders. When one is spotted by the pack, a runner is sent to bring the Mantis. Then the others keep it in sight, until the Monarch arrives to kill it.'

The girl had listened, but only enough to know when he had finished speaking. 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 far too excited by the presence of the Monarch to let her childish ignorance upset him. 'He slipped out just before the Mantis entered.'

'Then we should call to him, let him know where we are.' Kalus could only shake his head at his companion's needless worry. 'He knows 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 the spider?' Again he was surprised by her reaction. She seemed hurt and afraid. 'Don't worry,' he added more softly. 'He will come to you before the night is over. You should not worry for him so. He has been guarding his own life far longer than you and I.'

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

'That is not a bad thing. I too am scared, but do not let myself think it. We are safe here, for this night at least. You should sleep.