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slide back towards him while Uagen also tried to brace himself against the
damp tissues of the tube.
 Oh, 974 Praf said matter-of-factly from behind and below Uagen.  This
development is not an indication of good.
 Help! Uagen screamed, watching the two raptor scouts, both still desperately
clutching at the passage s walls, slide closer towards him. He tried to make
an X of himself, but the walls were now too far apart.
 Down here, Interpreter 974 Praf said. Uagen looked down between his feet.
974 Praf was holding onto the ribbed floor, flattened against it as best she
could.
He looked up as the nearest raptor scout skidded to within touching distance.
 Good idea! he gasped. He dived. His fore- head bounced off the heel spur of
the raptor scout. He grabbed at the ribs on the floor as both the raptor
scouts slid over him. The wind howled and tugged at his suit, then faded away.
He untangled himself from 974 Praf and looked back. A painful-looking tangle
of beaks, wings and limbs, the two raptor scouts were wedged further up in the
passage with the one which had been bringing up the rear, in the narrow part
they had recently forced their way through. One of the winged creatures
clacked something.
974 Praf clacked back, then jerked to her feet and scuttled down the passage.
 It is the case that the raptor scouts of the Yoleus will try to remain wedged
there and so block the conflagration-
feeding wind while we complete the journey which we make to the outside of the
Sansemin. This way, Uagen Zlepe, scholar.
He stared after her retreating back, then scrambled after her. He was getting
an odd feeling in his stomach. He tried to place it, then realised. It was
like being in an inertia-subject lift or craft.  Are we sinking? he said,
whimpering.
 The Sansemin would appear to be losing height rapidly, 974 Praf said,
bouncing from rib to rib down the steeply pitched floor ahead of him.
 Oh, shit. Uagen looked back. They were round a bend and out of sight of the
raptor scouts. The passage dipped still further; it was now like descending a
steeply pitched flight of stairs.
 Ah ha, the Interpreter said, as the wind tugged at them again. Uagen felt
his eyes widen. He stared ahead.  Light! he screamed.  Light! Praf! I can see
... His voice trailed away.
 Fire, the Interpreter said.  Down on the floor, Uagen Zlepe, scholar.
Uagen turned and flung himself to the steps a moment before the fireball hit.
He had time to take one deep breath and try to bury his face in his arms. He
felt 974 Praf on top of him, wings extended, covering him. The blast of heat
and light lasted a couple of seconds.  Up again, the
Interpreter said.  You first.
 You re on fire! he yelled as she pushed him with her wings and he stumbled
down the steps of ribs.
 This is the case, the Interpreter said. Smoke and flames curled behind her
wings as she prodded and pushed Uagen downwards. The wind was growing stronger
and stronger; he had to fight against it to make any headway, forcibly walking
down the ribbed side of the now almost vertical shaft as though they were
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somehow back on the level.
Looking ahead, Uagen could see light again. He groaned, then saw that it was
blue-white, not
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yellow this time.
 We approach the outside, 974 Praf gasped.
They dropped from the belly of the dying behemothaur, falling not much faster
than what was left of the vast creature itself as it burned and disintegrated
and collapsed and descended all at once. Uagen held 974 Praf to him,
smothering the flames eating at her wings, then used his ankle motors and
balloon cape to halt their fall, and after an eternity of falling amongst
flaming, fluttering wreckage and injured animals, brought the two of them
round from underneath the massive, V-shaped ruin that was the dying
behemothaur, into clear air space where the remains of the Yoleus
expeditionary force of raptor scouts found them moments before an ogrine
disseisor could swoop in to swallow them whole.
The dazed, silent Interpreter shivered in his arms, the smell of her burned
flesh filling his nose as they rose slowly with the raptor scout troupe back
to the dirigible behemothaur Yoleus.
 Go?
 Yes; away. Go. Depart. Leave.
 You wish to go away, dep.art, leave, now?
 As soon as possible. When s the next ship? Of anybody s?
Well, not, umm. Chelgrian. Yes; not Chelgrian.
Uagen had never imagined that Yoleus interrogatory chamber would seem
remotely homely, but it did now. He felt bizarrely safe here. It was just a
pity he had to leave.
Yoleus was talking to him via a connecting cable and an Interpreter called 46
Zhun. The bulkier body of the nominally male 46 Zhun was perched on a ledge
beside 974 Praf, who was stuck to the chamber wall looking singed and limp and
dead but apparently beginning her reconstitution and recovery. 46 Zhun closed
his eyes. Uagen was left standing there on the soft warm floor of the chamber.
He could still smell the odour of burning coming off his clothes. He shivered.
46 Zhun opened his eyes again.  The next departing object is due to leave from
the Second Tropic of Inclination Secessionary Portal in the Yonder lobe in
five days, the Interpreter said.
 I ll take it. Wait; is it Chelgrian?
 No. It is a Jhuvuonian Trader.
 I ll take it.
 There is not from now sufficient time for you to journey to and arrive at the
said Tropic of
Inclination Secessionary Portal.
 What?
 There is not from now sufficient time for you to-
 Well, how long would it take?
The Interpreter closed its eyes again for a few moments, then opened them and
said,  Twenty-three days would be the minimum time of requirement for a being
such as you to journey to and arrive at the Second Tropic of Inclination
Secessionary Portal from this point. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]