Part 7 (2/2)
Nguyen interrupted us.
”Wetherall, we've got problems.”
”What?” Wetherall asked.
”Actually at least a hundred problems. Thorp has come to visit-with some friends.”
I ran out to the balcony to see. One of the buses had gotten through and had pulled up beside the base. A crowd was boiling out. People threw themselves on the ground in front of the treads of the base. Thorp, wearing a severe black suit and a wide straw hat, directed them with a bullhorn. When the base was surrounded on three sides he turned the horn up toward Queen Jolly Freeze.
”WETHERALL!” his amplified voice boomed. ”MAKE THIS FOOL PULL YOUR HOUSE BACK FROM THE JEWELS. YOU DON'T REALIZE THE DANGER YOU'RE PUTTING US ALL IN-THE WHOLE HUMAN RACE! YOU WERE CRAZY TO TRY TO REPLACE ME WITH THAT WOMAN-SHE DOESN'T KNOW A THING ABOUT THESE CREATURES. PULL BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!”
Nguyen had climbed down from the cab of the base to argue with Thorp. He gesticulated wildly, pointing off across the flats where the fifth s.h.i.+tdog had joined its four fellows. They crouched all in a line; I had never seen anything like it. Their pattern seemed deeply meaningful.
The copters dropped down low. Their backwash jostled the Queen Jolly Freeze. I could see telephotos on Thorp. This was his moment in the sun; I hoped the old loon was sweating.
Wetherall switched on the house's PA system and leaned into the microphone. ”Dr. Thorp, you are trespa.s.sing on private property. Gather your people together and leave before we call in the authorities.”
”YOU'RE TOYING WITH DISASTER. ALREADY, BECAUSE OF YOUR ACTIVITIES, s.h.i.+TDOGS FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD ARE GATHERING HERE. NOW YOU'RE GOING TO SET OFF THE BEACON, AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT THE BIG DOGS WILL BE HERE!”.
I leaned over and grabbed the microphone. I decided not to mention anything about the jewels beginning to glow. ”Thorp, you microcephalic poser! What are you babbling about? If you think-”
”Liz,” said Wetherall. He pointed.
Thorp, and Nguyen and the crowd of protesters all turned their heads in the same direction, as if they were connected to servos. The effect was impressive. Once they saw the five s.h.i.+tdogs that were marching in a line toward the base, however, the illusion of unity vanished.
Nguyen dashed for the cab. A dozen protesters did the same, crowding in with him as Nguyen tried to get the thing moving again. Those who didn't fit hung off the sides. But most of the others were still lying on the ground, and there was no room to maneuver. Thorp stood calmly in place while the panic-stricken swirled around him. He raised the bullhorn. ”DON'T WORRY.” His voice crackled. ”THEY MEAN US NO HARM. THIS IS PART OF THE PLAN.”
”What is he doing?” I asked Wetherall. ”I'm going down there.”
”With those lunatics? No. Besides we're too high.”
”Then reel in the tether. I need to get down, Wetherall. Right now!”
”No, Liz.”
I stared at him. Who did he think he was, telling me what to do? I ran down to the bottom floor, overrode the locks and popped the hatch. Thanks to the breeze, the house was floating to the south of the base, and forty meters below lay the edge where the castings pile met the salt flats. Off to the north thirty meters, the protesters boiled around the base truck-most of them. Here and there in the crowd was one who stood stock still, like Thorp, as if dazed.
I threw the emergency ladder over the edge and it unrolled to within a couple of meters of the ground. Close enough-I swung my legs over the edge, and, clutching the ladder white-knuckled, began to climb down.
”Liz, no!” I heard Wetherall shout from above me.
Derring-do is harder in real life than in the gropies. Looking down made me want to throw up, so I didn't. I tried to fix on the horizon. The breeze caught the ladder and I began to describe a long, lazy ellipse approximately ten stories off the ground. Meanwhile, the s.h.i.+fting of my weight as I moved from rung to rung made the ladder twist. I began to wonder if maybe I was as crazy as Thorp. At least he had two feet on the ground. A copter came over to watch me and my clothes flapped like angry birds. The base moved a few meters and then jerked to a stop.
I almost lost my grip. ”Nice driving, Nguyen.” I muttered, and looked down. Only it wasn't Nguyen driving at all. He had been thrown from the cab by protestors and was only now scrambling back on.
Just in front of the base truck, a circle of the salt flat was boiling and churning. The center of the patch fell away, and a pair of blue legs poked out. It was a s.h.i.+tdog, hatching from the desert like a baby dinosaur. But that was impossible; all five s.h.i.+tdogs were marching in formation on the stranded base.
I froze on the ladder. I was suddenly dizzy, and it wasn't only because I was doing a high wire act without a net.
Another pair of claws burst through the salt crust, then another. All around the piles s.h.i.+tdogs erupted from the desert.
Someone had forgotten to give them a copy of the schedule. Convergence was happening early. Within minutes we would be dealing not just with five s.h.i.+tdogs, but with twenty-five.
Most of the protestors broke ranks now, scattering in every direction, throwing themselves onto the base, although quite a few still remained by Thorp's side. The base was backing away, or attempting to, its treads spinning against the resistance of the ma.s.sive lifthouse. The ladder twisted and jerked. I wrapped my legs around the rung and twisted my arms in the rope, clinging for my life like Dejah Thoris, six stories above an approaching horde of alien creatures that smelled like lilacs. But the thing that surprised me the most was that I wanted to climb down more than ever. It was as if the s.h.i.+tdogs were calling me.
I wondered how long it would take before whoever was driving the base realized the only way they were going to get moving would be to kill the electro-magnetic tether.
Not long at all.
The house shot up about ten meters before it re-established neutral ballast. I yo-yoed beneath it on the ladder. We were drifting with the wind over the s.h.i.+tpile. Below, the a.s.sembled s.h.i.+tdogs bellowed up at me, and radiated in toward the pile.
”Hang on, Liz!” Wetherall's voice boomed from the house's loudspeakers. I looked up and saw him out on the balcony. He had gotten out his smart la.s.so and was twirling it over his head, legs bent and braced. The jewels were glowing so brightly now that it was hard to look at them. In the shadow of the house's roof, Wetherall's face was awash in their light. He threw the la.s.so at the jewels and missed, falling short by a meter or two. The electric rope snapped itself upward and hovered in the air like a cobra, awaiting its next command. The wind was blowing us away from the s.h.i.+tpile. Wetherall tried again, and this time the la.s.so caught the jewels. He lashed the other end of the smart rope to the railing of the house, and dashed inside, to reappear at the open hatch.
Wetherall gulped, then slid awkwardly over the edge and started down to me. His eyes were the size of eggs. I couldn't watch him watch the ground so I looked down again. All twenty-five s.h.i.+tdogs had formed two roughly concentric circles beneath me. A target. And they were calling to me. They wanted me, Liz Cobble, the queen of s.h.i.+tdog studies.
”Liz, don't move.” Wetherall called. ”I'm coming.”
The only thought in my head was, he's trying to stop me. I had to get away from him. I made myself move down the ladder.
The base scuttled across the flats under a black swarm of protesters. Thorp's bus was gone, leaving a score or more protesters behind, among them Thorp. One of the pix copter pilots, braver than the others, landed and waved to the stragglers to jump aboard. But they ignored him. Thorp turned the bullhorn on him. ”THAT'S OKAY. WE HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL,” he said. Then he dropped the bullhorn at his feet, and he and the others started toward the gathering s.h.i.+tdogs.
I saw him brush a hand along a aquamarine-colored flank, and I was jealous. It wasn't fair! Heedless now of the risk of falling, I scrambled down. Wetherall was shouting at me. I don't even know what he said.
Thorp came to the center of the s.h.i.+tdog formation, held his arms out and turned around twice, as if to embrace them all. A s.h.i.+tdog approached him and then settled back on its haunches. He walked toward it, smiling. The jewels were glowing so furiously now that their prismatic colors rained down on the the s.h.i.+tdogs and Thorp's followers like G.o.d's own grace. My head swam with the scent of roses. G.o.d-d.a.m.ned Thorp! Tears welled in my eyes. I had looked into the jewels' heart. The s.h.i.+tdogs had called to me.
I was supposed to be special.
I was about to let go of the ladder and drop to the ground when Wetherall reached me and seized my arm.
The lead s.h.i.+tdog lifted up its front legs. Its arms extended outwards in an embrace, claws sliding from its feet like those of a cat. The embrace took in Thorp, who stood, arms lifted. Clumsy as a baby, the s.h.i.+tdog grabbed Thorp between its paws, lifted him to its mouth and bit his head off.
All I could think of was how lucky he was.
Thorp's followers were going where their leader had gone before them, falling into the eager embrace of the s.h.i.+tdogs, being torn to pieces and eaten. I struggled to get free of Wetherall, but he wrapped his legs around me and would not let me go. We twisted on the ladder. The wind bore the house around to the side of the castings pile, the ladder jerked downward, and Wetherall and I dropped the last few meters to the salt flats. I tried to get free of him, but was knocked dizzy by the fall. By the time I got my wind, the s.h.i.+tdogs were done feeding.
The jewels stopped glowing.
When I shook my head, little black mites twirled into nothingness. For a moment I couldn't remember who I was or why I was there. I watched uncomprendingly as the s.h.i.+tdogs settled down among the b.l.o.o.d.y sc.r.a.ps of Thorp's followers and went to sleep.
”Liz, are you okay?” said Wetherall.
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