THE ODOR OF THE packen surrounded them. Thomas felt just the way he did when he’d watched too much television—cranky, jumpy, overtired. He knew very well he couldn’t be trudging through the heat and dust of some awful future time and place. But he was, and with Dorian and Levi on either side of him.
With Justice hidden, Thomas realized he was now the leader of Dorian and Levi. He was the one they would depend on, and he cautioned himself to stay alert. And yet the dreamlike pace they kept, the sameness of the packen, was hypnotic. No matter where Thomas looked, he saw another Siv, another Glass and Duster. It got monotonous, but it was oddly exciting, too.
Thomas scanned the minds of the group. The Glass ones’ keenest thoughts were their trust in and protection of the leaders, Thomas discovered. Leggens ones tended toward moodiness. They were all aloof, independent and as highstrung as runners could be.
Thomas envied Duster’s position of high esteem given him by his trip and his packen and, he supposed, even by the other roamer packens. There were other packens. Thomas had divined that by telepathy. He could send his mind out swiftly, intercepting thoughts of packens just out of sight of this one.
Given him—or did he take it? Thomas wondered, about Duster’s position of high esteem. I bet I could beat Duster in a fair fight, he thought. You can tell he’s no fighter, if he leaves combat up to a girl! What’s he for, then?
Thomas felt a familiar telepathy enter his mind. It was Dorian. Couldn’t help picking up what you were thinking. Nothing much else to do. But I figure Duster’s singing is what he can do.
Yeah, traced Thomas, but what good is singing in a place like Dustland?
Well, he can lead to water, too, Dorian traced.
Yeah, Duster knows the way to water, all right, Thomas traced. For he had divined they were headed directly for the water pool.
Soon they began to feel the moisture from the pool. It mixed with the dust in a slippery film, like oil and talc, and they were soon covered with it.
Uh-uh! Thomas thought. I haven’t got a body here. There’s nothing but my thoughts.
But he did have a body, no denying what he could see and feel. And now he looked much like any member of the packen.
Out of boredom, Thomas entered the mind of the Siv nearest him. Mind-jumping was quite different from telepathic tracing. It was like walking through the walls of a large hall full of unexpected clutter, sometimes unimaginable treasure. Wherever Thomas entered, he at once owned it and could do with it whatever he wanted. Thomas could mind-jump and control anyone except his sister, and the Sensitive Mrs. Jefferson back home, whose power was stronger than his.
Inside the Siv, Thomas felt he was looking down a dusty tunnel. The view centered narrowly on the outline of the Siv’s leader. Everywhere Thomas turned in the tunnel, there were statues and photographs of the leader.
Doesn’t this dude ever think of anything else? he wondered. Lining the tunnel was a dark coating of fear, relieved only by sudden memory flashes of running and killing, eating and sleeping. All at once Thomas felt he would smother. He got out of there fast.
Silence had fallen over the packen. Thomas could see the pool dully through the murk, fifty yards away. It was a good-sized pool, all right. He felt the cool freshness of it.
Suddenly he knew that he, Dorian and Levi had been made invisible to Duster and his tribe.
Justice must’ve done it, he decided. Yet they could still see one another and everybody but Justice.
Still being small? Thomas traced outward, searching for her, guessing that she had become minute because he could not divine a normal-sized human being.
Right, came the reply from Justice. Listen, Duster and the others are forming lines to go up and drink. It would be too easy to tell that the three of you don’t belong. So you’ll stay invisible until we know everything’s okay.
You expect the Mal to come follow us? he traced.
I don’t know what to expect, she traced. We should just be careful.
All right, he agreed. But I want to head home just as soon as we can.
Thomas, don’t start, she traced.
What do you mean, don’t start? I got a right, and I want to go home!
Justice closed her mind to him, leaving him seething with anger. She couldn’t take them home now. How could she, when they’d just broken the ice with Duster and his people?
Now the five smooth-keeps were in a line and moving toward the pool. Warily the leaders and the Sivs came on behind them. The pool area was clear. There were no small animals to be seen; perhaps they had been scared away by the arrival of Duster’s tribe.
The pool glinted and rushed. The packen was so entranced by it that no one saw the she-animal Miacis on the far shore. Not even Duster or his Siv and Glass. Justice watched as Miacis blinked her enormous eyes and lifted her wide, leafy ears. The orange membrane pouches, air filters, on either side of her neck swelled and pulsated as she scanned Duster and the others.
Justice was quick to shield the four from Miacis’ strong empathy before her scan reached them. Better to keep our presence from her for a while, she thought, long enough to see what Duster will do with an animal like her.
Duster must’ve come in contact with Miacis before. Within the shield, she traced this to the others.
You want to find out if they come from the same place beyond Dustland, Levi traced. He had been silent, for most of the journey to the pool, watchful .and thinking.
Right, Justice answered.
They were by the pool, invisible, to one side of Duster and the packen.
“O Leader, there be water and water!” toned Glass in a piercing outcry that took the four by surprise.
Duster gave her a smile and crawled on his stomach through the line of smooth-keeps to the water. Glass held his feet as he stretched out, his chest lying in the pool. He drank, making loud sucking sounds. In between, he laughed his melodious tones. Then, timidly, other leaders came forward.
What they think the water’s gonna do, eat them? Thomas traced.
Maybe they’re afraid of going under. How deep is it? Dorian asked.
Must be about four feet, Levi divined. But even a foot or two will terrify you if you don’t know water.
The dummies haven’t even noticed Miacis, traced Thomas. He tightened inside as he gazed at the animal. She was blind, but her extrasensory ability made her seem to see through her burning, sightless eyes.
Leaders took turns at the pool while smooth-keeps held their feet. When the Dusters had drunk their fill, the Sivs waded in. Half running, they glided out on the water and drank in great gulps. Duster’s Siv dived under, instinctively using his legs in the water. Surfacing, he moaned with pleasure. He sang, “O Duster, be under and over and all be around, clean. Wet! Try it, O Leader!”
“Never be me,” Duster sang back.
Glass ground her heel in the dust. “Hahn!” she toned in a five-scale of anger. “Leader, make Siv be out of my way,” she told Duster.
“Be waiting your turn,” Duster toned, “waiting with other smooths.”
“Am waiting my turn,” she responded. “Siv be floating in water. Who want to be drinking his dust!”
“Be still!” Duster modulated in his command mode.
Glass was at full attention, still and silent, gazing before her. It was then she saw Miacis on the other side of the pool blinking regally and flicking her outrageous golden tail at them.
Glass commenced trembling and could not stop. At that distance, the beast blended well with the murk of dust. To warn Duster of the animal, Glass would have to break his command. And she could neither act or react.
“What be with you, O Smooth?” Duster toned, following her locked gaze. He saw the she-animal where a second ago he had seen nothing.
Duster’s expression did not change. He gave commands. “Be ready!” His tone was firm, serene.
At once his packen grouped into trips.
“Drink,” he toned, gesturing to the smooth-keeps while keeping his gaze on Miacis.
The smooths drank quickly but as much as they wanted. Then they again took their places.
Duster had vague thoughts. Seeing the Miacis creature, he knew he had seen her before. He knew she must be the Miacis one the Justice from far had spoken of. He had not remembered Miacis until he saw her.
Miacis stretched languorously. She yawned lazily. Her sweeping tail of a moment ago lay flat on the ground, straight and stiff as a board. She had extended poisonous dewclaws and concealed them in the dust. Obviously she sensed impending danger.
“Ginen,” Duster toned softly to Glass.
“Ha-hahn!” Glass responded quietly yet urgently to the smooth-keeps. They formed a line beside her to her right.
.Glass pulled a weapon from her pack. In an unbroken motion she cast a shot the size of a marble at Miacis’ left eye. Swiftly, one after another, the smooths cast their shots, all the size of the first. Hurled with such smoothness, they were one blurred image streaming over the pool with a thin whining.
Miacis’ tail moved. It sprang forward in front of her face, knocking down every shot.
“Ho! Mmmm!” murmured Miacis. She laughed an exact copy of Justice’s laugh.
Miacis had learned to talk by copying Justice. Justice felt like a proud parent every time Miacis came up with a new trick.
The smooth-keeps waited, but Duster gave no further command. The she-animal made no move to flee, so Duster’s leggens kept his position.
Miacis stretched out, eyeing Duster and the packen. “A-hem,” she said. “You leggy-guys wanta run a race? Sivs?” Her sweet voice carried over the water, trembled in half-tones of honeyed, hard-sounding chords. “Come on, fellas, see which one can catch up to me. Nobody want to play? Oh, well, Hell. You lose, babies. Alas, not a damned thing to do!”
Miacis had gathered a whole cache of curse words, mainly from Thomas’ mind, and she loved using them.
Duster thought of connections—the coming of the dream, the appearance of the water pool. He had been in contact with the Miacis creature near this water. In the dream the she-animal had been hidden from his view, a golden streak at the edges of it.
He gave a hand-signal command and sauntered off in his serene walk of authority that separated him from all others of his tribe. Striding easily along the pool, he was soon face to face with Miacis.
She was seated in her most regal pose—head held high, her great tail in a question mark, orange pouches slowly pulsating.
“My, my, it’s rusty Duster hisself,” she said. “The human from the hordes. You owe me one, Duster, ever since I let you use my pool. It belongs to me, and you owe me.”
Ever since my Master made the pool, Miacis thought. But what’s that to rusty Duster?
Thinking of Justice made her uneasy. When would the Master return? she wondered. Where had she gone?
Miacis didn’t know why she bothered with this simpleton Duster. Maybe she was just lonely. Yet she was drawn to him; she could not help herself.
Duster couldn’t think to tone. His encounter with Miacis at the pool was a series of images. He was many Dusters. She was many Miacises.
“Know you and be knowing you,” Duster toned dreamily.
Miacis read his mind. “Duster, what do you know?” she said, and her tone of voice came clearly to him.
“Be remembering,” he toned.
“Well, if and when you find out something, do let me in on it, will you, friend? I get that I was some place before this, my home. So was you, because I knew you the moment I first saw you. Can’t figure that one. Wish I could. Oooh, wish this aching tummy would go away!”
“Be trying thinking deep and just not feel so good either,” toned Duster.
Pet me! she telepathed.
“Touching, be feeling better, yes,” Duster toned.
“So pet me. I’ll admit it settles my stomach, too.”
Duster petted her head and smoothed his hand along her back fur. Sitting beside him, she was taller than he. She rested her chin on top of his head and he reached with both arms to pet her.
Her eyes closed. A series of moves took place between them. Miacis slapped at his arm with one of her mitt-sized paws. She had retracted her dangerous dewclaws so as not to poison or stun him. Duster batted at the paw. His eyes, too, fluttered closed; and he might have been sunbathing there, with his head held upward toward the murk above.
Paw batted hand and hand batted paw. In a surprise move Duster grabbed her ears and yanked them. Miacis whined, trying to pull free. They rolled over, punching and hitting with hands and paws. She bared razor-sharp incisor teeth and clamped them on Duster’s shoulder. She did no damage. He dared put his head in her mouth. She caught his neck in her paws as if to bite his head off. The weight of her knocked him over.
They frolicked. Miacis rose on her hind legs. Duster crawled down her back, grabbing one of her feet, then the other, to make her fall.
She fell on all fours and galloped away with him clinging to her. Siv raced after them. His leader was clinging to the beast on his stomach, facing the wrong way!
On the run, Siv turned and signaled Glass to throw him the deep-daggen. And, racing, he caught it neatly. He overtook Miacis, but he couldn’t outrun her.
She sensed the weapon glinting in Siv’s hand, veered out of harm’s way and turned back. Duster had his legs wrapped around her neck and held on to her tail for dear life.
They came back in a trot, with the ever watchful Siv bringing up the rear. Duster slid to the ground. Miacis paced before him and the standing Siv; she was panting with the exertion.
“My, my!” she sighed, catching her breath, and flopped down beside Duster.
“Be feeling better,” Duster toned. “Sickening be like nothing.”
Miacis moaned in reply. They were still while their breathing settled back to normal.
Lazily, he signaled the smooth-keep to take her place beside the leggens. He next toned to the leggens, and Siv handed the deep-daggen still in his palm to Glass. She put it away in her pack. Then she and Siv took up positions at Duster’s left and right sides.
All this while Justice, her brothers and Dorian, from their vantage of invisibility, watched the scene at the pool as they would a curious sort of show.
Abruptly Justice traced, Why did Duster start dreaming? Why does Miacis think she comes from some other place?
Because, Thomas traced back promptly, she ran into Duster—maybe that brought back memories. It came at the right time and helped break the process.
What process? she traced.
Conditioning not to think about certain things, Thomas traced. And if you do think about them, you get sick.
Right, she traced.
They get sick when they think, Levi traced, and they feel better when they play together and don’t think.
Right, traced Justice. They’re outcasts from someplace, for sure. The sickness keeps them from remembering and from escaping.
So now things are changing, Levi traced.
And I bet we caused it. Thomas was glum. We upset the balance of things; we don’t have any right!
We didn’t start it, Justice traced. Duster was already dreaming by the time we got here. But if we’re going to be of any use, we’d better get to work, she continued. No telling when the Mal will return.
What will we do? Thomas wanted to know.
Oh, I’m not sure of it all, she traced. But I think I know where to begin.
“Time to show ourselves,” she whispered, and joined hands—minds—with the other three.
They became the unit. It glided over the water to the other side. It materialized as it went.