Part 9 (2/2)
The object of Calonnin RoVijar's avaricious thoughts was at that moment nearing the equator of Tran-ky-ky. It was near noon. Ethan was studying the ice sliding past below.
No matter where they pa.s.sed, the sun always seemed to bring out hidden patterns in the ice ocean's surface. But what Ethan noticed now startled him more than any fanciful face or half-concealed monster thrown back from subsurface cracks and discolorations.
In places, a thin layer of water lay on the ice. Widely scattered puddles formed unexpected mirrors.
Once, the _Slanderscree_ shot through a depression filled with enough water to send spray flying rail-high.
Several hours later, the temperature had dropped enough for the isolated pools to freeze solid again, but the mere sight of freestanding liquid water on Tran-ky-ky was a considerable shock.
It had a much more deleterious effect on the crew. They were used to seeing running water only in their homes, after ice or snow had been melted down for drinking. Their reaction would be comparable to a human watching the ground beneath his feet begin to dissolve. It was overwhelming to learn that one's world was not indestructible.
Williams and EerMeesach moved among the jit-tery sailors, a.s.suring them that their cataclysmic spec-ulations were groundless, that there was no danger of the ice ocean melting more than a few centimeters in this one exceptionally warm place on the planetary sur-face. Regardless, Williams told them, the _Slanderscree_ would surely float.
It took him a while to explain the concept of floating.
As soon as the sun dropped a few degrees and the surface water refroze, however, even the most super-st.i.tious sailors were convinced they had nothing to fear.
Several warning cries sounded that afternoon from the lookout baskets attached to the top of each mast. Ethan rushed to the helmdeck, the nerve center of the great icerigger, to learn what was happening.
He found Tahoding yelling commands to his mates, directing the reefing of several sails. Pikapina sheets began to shrink in the forest of rigging and spars. Ethan forbore interrupting the captain when he was obviously so busy and was soon able to make out the cause of their slowing for himself.
A green thread lying across the fore horizon grew to become a ribbon, then a deep, verdant band. It stretched as far as a man could see from left to right across the ice sea. The band became a broad swatch and soon they were sliding over an ocean of green instead of white.
The ma.s.sive duralloy runners of the _Slanderscree_ left parallel grooves in the emerald-rust carpet of their wake. Sir Hunnar moved to stand alongside Ethan.
” 'Tis one of the largest fields of pikapina I have ever seen, friend Ethan. 'Twould be a good place to live, were there any high land about.”
Ethan knew the adaptable, prolific plant could live anywhere it could sink its traveling roots into nutrient rich soil. The islands hereabouts might be only a centi-meter or two above the surface. Or perhaps the fields' taproots went deep through the ice to penetrate subsurface mountaintops.
In places the thick, triangular stalks tended to a deep, rich green, in others the color turned almost red or brown. Hunnar talked on about the agricultural wealth of this unexploited, icebound prairie.
He didn't use a complex collection of consonants, but instead referred to the growth by its most simple, colloquial name, for the benefit of speechpoor humans. Occasionally the pa.s.sage of the icerigger would stir up clouds of batwinged b.u.t.terfiy-like creatures, little knots of black, purple, and gray fur supported by wings seemingly too delicate to cope with Tran-ky-ky's fer-ocious winds.
Larger arboreals would then rise to pursue. These had long thin snouts, almost half the length of their bodies, which were filled to crowding with curved, pinthin teeth. Flapping membranous wings, they would swoop in among the batb.u.t.terflies, mouths moving like scythes as they snapped at their agile but tightly packed prey. Pincus.h.i.+on jaws nearly always emerged from the colorful moving clouds with one or two punctured prizes.
Hunnar's attention wandered to EerMeesach's more learned explanations directed at the school teacher Williams. Though diminutive and wizened by adult Tran standards, the aged native wizard still towered over his human counterpart, his white-gray fur contrasting electrically with Williams' satin black beneath his face mask.
”So we see that the pikapina's regenerative powers are so great that though it is cut today, it will have grown in behind us by this time on the morrow.” The wizard gestured with a shaky paw at the tracks in the path of the s.h.i.+p.
”If it can regenerate so fast,” asked Williams, ”why doesn't it spread until it covers every square meter of ice on the planet?”
”It is not that simple, friend Williams.” And EerMeesach repeated the method of pikapina growth which Ethan had come to know and marvel at.
Long burrowing roots laboriously melted or wedged their way through the ice just beneath the surface until they located a cavity, usually an ancient air bubble trapped by freezing. The root would expand there to form a thick nodule. Nutrients concentrated in such nodules-which the Tran hungered after-were difficult to locate and hard to excavate. When the nodule was rich and large enough, it would send out four, five or more new roots in quest of other cavities, while the nodule's supply of nutrients was constantly replenished from other nodules and eventually from some distant landma.s.s.
”Thus,” the wizard continued, ”with many nodules nearby, the pikapina can quickly reestablish it-self behind our s.h.i.+p, since rootpaths have already been cut through the ice here. But to expand further into new territory, it must dig new pathways for itself through the resisting ice. This is why?”
A yell from the mainmast interrupted the lecture. Ethan looked forward, to where the field of green was becoming a wall.
”Pikapedan,” he murmured to himself.
Tahoding was already studying the forest through a crude but serviceable Tran telescope. ”It appears to extend,” he told Ethan, in response to the other's ques-tion, ”as far to east and west as its tiny cousin.”
He put down the gla.s.s, looked worried.
Pikapedan was the giant relative of the smaller pikapina, rising to heights of as much as ten meters.
Hunnar appeared on deck, folded his dan and skid-ded to a stop. ”Weather and ice are your concern, Captain. Do what you believe best.”
”Poyolavomaar is through this,” Tahoding pointed out. ”We do not know the extent of the field to east and west. My directions do not take detouring into account. If we try to go around, we could become hopelessly lost and never reach our destination.
”Therefore, we must try to go through.” He moved forward, to the front railing of the helmdeck.
”h.e.l.lo the deck!” Acknowledgement sounded instantly from waiting mates.
Tahoding ordered additional sail put on. There was good-natured grumbling from the sailors on spar duty as the sheets they'd just recently taken in were let out again, billowing taut in the steady wind.
The _Slanderscree_ was once again traveling under full sail. She picked up speed steadily, ma.s.sively.
”What would you have ordered, good friend Ethan?”
Startled, he turned to see Elfa staring at him. He hadn't seen her come up on the helmdeck. Great search-light eyes shone down at him, competing with the sun.
”We have to go through, of course.” He tried to sound as positive as Tahoding had.
”The bolder decision, but typical of you.” She fa-vored him with a searing Trannish smile, then moved away to ask a question of EerMeesach before Ethan could explain that he was only agreeing with Tahoding's decision.
Ethan turned, caught Hunnar glaring morosely at him. As soon as the knight saw that his stare had been noticed he turned away, chivaning down the ramp to the main deck.
Ethan considered following him, to explain, and then decided not to. Apparently repeated protests had done nothing to mollify Hunnar's absurd jealousies. Repet.i.tion of his innocence would have no more effect than before.
A subtle jar shook the s.h.i.+p, forcing him to clutch at the nearest support. It felt as if the _Slanderscree_ had rammed a gigantic sponge. The sweeping panorama of green fields and blue sky had been obliterated by the columnar emerald wall now sliding past on both sides of the s.h.i.+p. Moving at over ninety kilometers per hour, the icerigger had struck the pikapedan forest and was grinding smoothly through it.
A glance astern showed a lengthening highway un-rolling like a ribbon, the pikapedan stalks cut off four meters above the ice by the speeding ma.s.s of the s.h.i.+p. Flat-sided green logs lay strewn across the stumps, fragments from the broom of a chlorophyllic colossus.
Without distant landmarks to measure by, it was difficult to estimate their speed. Ethan guessed the s.h.i.+p had slowed some since impact, but was still trav-eling steadily ahead at a respectable velocity.
Water and pulp spattered his survival suit, and he had to turn away to keep his vision clear. Up by the bowsprit, he knew the situation must be far worse.
It seemed incredible that the dense vegetation would give way so easily before the s.h.i.+p. But while the pikapedan looked more solid and treelike than its miniature relative, it was equally mushy inside, consisting mostly of water-soaked soft fibres which snapped instantly under the weight of the _Slanderscree_.
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