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mark on its side.
Overhead, branches rustled. "Don't you think that's about enough? Or does
mutilating me give you some sort of twisted pleasure?" As one might expect,
Ehomba stepped back quickly. His eyes roved the trunk, but he could espy
neither eyes nor mouth, nor any other recognizable organ. There were only
branches, and leaves, and the voice in his head. The tree looked like nothing
but what it was. Am I really hearing this? he thought uncertainly. "Of course
you're hearing it. Did you 'really' cut me?" "I am very sorry."
The herdsman spread his arms wide and bowed his head. "I did not mean to cause
pain. It has been my experience that most trees are not so sensitive as you."
"Oh really? And how many trees have you asked, before you sliced into them?"
"Truth to tell, tall forest dweller, not a one. But in the land I come from,
trees are rarely cut. There are very few of them, and so they are treasured
for their shade and companionship." He gestured at the surrounding forest. "I
can see more of your kind from where I stand right now than grow within many
leagues of my home." "A poor land that must be, to be so treeless."
The growth sounded slightly mollified. "Most of your people are far less
sensitive, though admittedly few of them pass this way. Most that do never
leave the Unstable Lands. They become lost-or worse."
"That is why I made the marks." The herdsman hastened to defend, or at least
to explain, his actions. "So
I would not pass the same place twice. But it seems that I have been walking
in circles, because this is the third time I have come back to you."
"Nonsense," the tree replied. "You have been following an almost perfectly
straight route north, and as a consequence I have had some difficulty catching
up with and passing you." So it was the same tree, Ehomba reflected, but it
had not stayed in the same place.
"Trees cannot move." "For a man who confesses to coming from a land where few
trees live, you presume to know a great deal about them." There followed a
great rustling and shaking of branches and vines, whereupon the tree promptly
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rose a foot or so off the ground and skittered forward several feet.
Plopping itself back down, it reestablished its root system and regarded the
man. "I withdraw my
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%201%20-%20Carnivores%20Of%20Darkness%20&%20Light.txt statement," Ehomba
commented promptly. Branches bent toward him. "Because of your lack of
knowledge of and experience with trees, I forgive you your actions. But a
warning: No more casual incising to mark your way. In the lands ahead live
plants less benign or forgiving than myself." "I
appreciate the warning." Ehomba glanced at the cuts he had made. Sap was
already beginning to ooze over the wounds as a first step in healing the
marks. "Again, I am sorry." "Good. Remember how much you value the trees in
your own country, and accord my brethren here the same respect. In return,
they will keep you cooled, and sometimes fed." Ehomba nodded, turned, and
nearly fell as he stumbled to avoid stepping on a tiny shoot that was poking
its minuscule green head out of the damp rain-forest soil.
After all, it was something's offspring, and if the example of the tree was to
be believed, the vegetation hereabouts was exceedingly sensitive. What with
watching for dangerous animals, he had enough to do without riling the forest
itself. In the depths of the jungle there was no wind, but his unfamiliarity
with the high humidity was largely canceled out by his natural affinity for
hot climes, so that he sweated continually but not excessively. Anyone from a
more temperate climate would surely have collapsed from the combination of
heat and humidity. Ehomba drank from his water bag and kept walking. With each
swallow his body shuddered a little less. As evening drew into night, he
encountered a surprise: a stone. The flat slab of grayish granite protruded
like a crude spear point from the moist earth. When journeying through a realm
of dirt and decomposing organic matter, it was always unusual to find exposed
rock. The smooth, immutable surface reminded him of home, where there was no
shortage of rocks but a considerable paucity of thick soil. Slipping free of
his backpack, he laid it carefully down on the dry stone, laying his spear
alongside. For the first time in days he allowed himself to do nothing: not to
worry about what lay ahead, or about how he was going to find his way out of
the jungle, or what he might encounter when he did. He did not concern himself
with Tarin Beckwith's dying request, or how he was going to supplement his
limited food supplies, or what dangers the Unstable Lands might still hold. He
relaxed in the company of the rock that needed only direct heating to make it
feel exactly like the rocks he had left back home. Astonishing, he mused, the
simple things that one misses. We take our environment, our surroundings, for
granted, until we are forced to survive in completely different circumstances.
He would never have thought he could miss something as straightforward and
commonplace as rocks.
If the sky were green, though, he knew that he would miss the blue. If sugar
turned bitter, he would miss the sweet. And if he someday turned old and mean,
he would miss himself. Finishing a simple meal, he stretched out on the broad
palm of granite and lay back, wishing he could see the stars. But until he
emerged from the great rain forest of the Unstable Lands he would have to be
content with a roof of green, and with the soaking precipitation that arrived
every morning in advance of the sun, like a trumpeter announcing the approach
of a king.
IXThe Lord of the Ants THIS IS A STORY THAT IS TOLD TO EVERY MEMBER OF THE
colony on the day when they slough off the last vestiges of pupahood and
graduate to the status of worker, attendant, or soldier. It concerns a most
momentous event in the history of the colony, one that occurred not so very
long ago, which affected the future of everyone from the Queen herself on down
to the lowliest worker toiling in the refuse beds. No one could remember when
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the war with the Reds had begun. They had come raiding from beyond the big log
to the east and had surprised the outpost guards.
But providentially, a small column of workers returning with food had espied
them sneaking forward through the forest litter and had raced homeward to
spread the alarm. All save one pair were run down
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%201%20-%20Carnivores%20Of%20Darkness%20&%20Light.txt and dismembered, but
those two who made it back alerted the rest of the colony, their agitated
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