SPRING STORMs. .h.i.t SOUTHWEST.
SERIES-12 ARTIFICIAL HEART RECALLED.
Apologizing for the inconvenience
IN THE DAYS BEFORE NAY-.
enezgani, Old Man Coyote once came upon the Traveling Rock in his journeying about the land. It had spoken to him and he had answered. Amused that a huge pile of stone should possess sentience, he quickly set about mocking it.
First he painted a grotesque face upon its side.
"Old Man Stone, you are frowning," he said.
"I do not like this face you have given me," it replied.
"And you are bald," Coyote said. "I will fix that."
He climbed atop the stone and defecated.
"Brown curly locks suit you well."
"You annoy me, Cayote," it said.
"I will be back in a while to build a fire at your base and cook my dinner," Coyote said, "as soon as I have hunted."
"Perhaps I, too, should hunt," it said.
Coyote set off through the woods. He had not gone very far when he heard a rumbling noise behind him. When he looked back he saw that the stone, rolling slowly, had commenced following him.
"Holy s.h.i.t!" said Coyote, and he began running.
As he ran along, he saw Mountain Lion resting in the shade.
"Mountain Lion!" he called out. "Someone is chasing me. Can you help me, brother?"
Mountain Lion rose, stretched and looked back.
"You"ve got to be kidding," Mountain Lion said when he saw Traveling Rock. "I"ve no desire to be a flat cat. Keep going."
Coyote ran on, and later he pa.s.sed Bear just emerging from his den.
"Hey! Bear, old buddy!" he cried. "I"ve got someone after me. Will you help me?"
"Sure," said Bear. "There aren"t many things I"m afraid of..."
Then Bear heard the noise of pursuit and looked back and saw Traveling Rock.
"... But that"s one of them-," he said. "Sorry."
"What should I do?" Coyote yelled.
"Cultivate philosophy and run like h.e.l.l," said Bear, re- turning to his den.
Coyote ran on, down to the plains, and Traveling Rock picked up speed behind him.
At length, Coyote saw Old Buffalo grazing amid long gra.s.ses.
"Buffalo! Save me! I"m being chased!" Coyote cried.
Old Buffalo turned his head slowly and regarded the oncoming boulder.
"You can have all the moral support I"ve got," Buffalo replied. "But I just remembered it"s time to move the herd.
We"ve about grazed this area out. See you around, kid. Hey, gang! Let"s get our tails across the river!"
Coyote continued to run, gasping now, and finally he came to the place where the hawks were resting.
"Help me, lovely fliers, mighty hunters!" he called. "My enemy is gaining on me!"
"Hide in this hollow tree and leave the Rock to us," said the chief of the hawks.
The Hawk Chief gave a signal then and his entire tribe rose into the air, circled once and fell upon the Traveling Rock. With their beaks, they prized away all of its loose covering, and then they went.to work along its fracture lines, opening, widening, removing more material. In a short time, the Rock was reduced to a trail of gravel.
"There," said the Hawk Chief to Coyote, "it is over. You can come out now."
Coyote emerged from the tree and regarded the remains of his enemy. Then he laughed.
"It was only a game," he said. "That"s all it was. I was never in any real danger. And you dumb birds actually thought I was in trouble. That"s funny. That"s real funny. No wonder everyone laughs at you. Did you really think I was afraid of that old rock?"
Coyote walked away laughing, and the Hawk Chief gave another signal.
The hawks fell upon the stone chips, gathered them and began rea.s.sembling them, like pieces of a gigantic puzzle.
When the Traveling Rock found itself together again, it groaned and then, slowly at first, began rolling, off in the direction Coyote had taken upon his departure. It picked up speed as it moved and soon came in sight of Coyote once more.
"Oh, no!" Coyote cried when he saw it coming.
He began running once again. He came to a downhill slope and began its descent. Traveling Rock picked up speed behind him, narrowed the distance that separated them, rolled over him and crushed him to death.
A circling hawk saw this take place and went back to report it to the others.
"Old Man Coyote has done it again," he said. "He never learns."
The Second Day
NIGHT, WITH MIST BANKS.
drifting down rocky slopes, stars toward the center of the sky, moonrise phosph.o.r.escence at the edge of things. The floatcar followed the high, craggy trail, winding between rock wall and downward slope, piercing stone shoulders, turning, dipping and rising. Sheep wandered across the way, pausing to browse on spring gra.s.ses. There were no lights in the countryside; there was no other traffic. The windshield occasionally misted over, to be cleared by a single, auto- matic movement of its blade. The only sound above the low buzz of the engine was the occasional urgent note of a gust of wind invading some cranny of the vehicle.
Billy entered a curve bending to his right, a steep rise to his left. He felt more secure with every kilometer that pa.s.sed. Cat had proved more formidable than he had antici- pated when it came to using the trip-boxes and functioning within cities. He was still uncertain as to how the beast had been able to determine his whereabouts with such accuracy.
A gimmicking of the boxes he could understand, but know- ing where to go to find him... It almost smacked of witchcraft, despite the fact that Cat had had a long time in which to plan.
Still, a change of tactics now ought to provide him with the leeway he would need for a total escape. He had tripped
back to the Gare du Nord after fleeing the stunned Cat on the Left Bank. From there he had transported himself to Dublin, a city he had visited a number of times during Irish excur- sions, consulted the directory and tripped to Bantry, from which he had once spent several weeks sailing and fishing.
There, in that pleasant, quiet corner of West Cork, he had taken his dinner and known the beginning of this small aecurity he felt. He had walked through the town there at the head of the bay, smelling the salt air and recalling a season that might have been happier, though he now saw it as one of his many periods of adjustment to yet another changed time; He remembered the boat and a girl named Lynn and the seafood; these, and the fact that it was a small, unhurried place, permitting him to slip gradually into a new decade.
Could something like this be what he really most needed now? he wondered. He shook his head. His grip tightened on the wheel as he negotiated a twisting descent.
Time to think. He needed to get to a safe place where he could work things out. Something was very wrong. He was missing important things. Cat had come too d.a.m.ned close.
He ought to be able to shake him. This was still his world, for all of the changes. An alien beast should not be able to outwit him here. Time. He needed some time in which to work on it.
Vary the pattern, he had decided. If he had left some trace behind him in the boxes, some means by which his destina- tion choices might become known, this move on his part should cancel that effect. He had rented the vehicle in Bantry and begun the northward drive along the trail he remembered. Pa.s.sing through Glengariff, he had continued onto this way toward Kenmare, moving through a country- side devoid of trip-boxes, For the moment, he felt free.
There was only the night and the wind and the rocky prospect. He had been caught off balance by Cat"s releasing him the previous evening. He had done nothing but impro- vise since then. What he had to come up with now was a plan, a general defense to sustain him through this trial. A plan...
A light in the distance. A pair of them now., Three... He raised a container and took a sip of coffee. His first mistake, he decided, had probably been in not tripping enough. He should have continued his movements to really cloud the trail. Cat had obviously been close enough to pick his destination from his mind. Even when he had jumped more
than once, Cat could have been coming in as he was tripping out, and so could have learned the next stop.
Four... Kenmare would still be some distance beyond the first scattered farms and rural residences. This night was crisp. He descended a long slope. Abruptly, the trees were larger along the trailside.
The next time he would really mix it up. He would jump back and forth among so many places that the trail would be completely muddled. Yes, that was what he should have done at first - The next time?
He screamed. The mental presence of Cat suddenly hung like the aroma of charred flesh about him.
"No -" he said, fighting to regain control of the vehicle which he had let swerve at his outburst.
He bounced across a field at a height of perhaps two feet, heading toward a steepening rise. Too abrupt a change in att.i.tude would overturn the car.
Pulling the wheel around, he succeeded in veering away from the slope. Moments later, he was headed back toward the trail. Although he peered in every direction his light traveled, he saw no sign of the hunting beast.
Back on the trail once more, he accelerated. Shadows fled past. Tree limbs were stirred by the wind. Bits of fog drifting across his way were momentarily illuminated by the vehi- cle"s beams. But this was all that he saw.
"Cat...?" he finally said.
There was no reply. Was he so on edge that he had imagined that single phrase? The strain...
"Cat?"
It had seemed so real. He struggled to reconstruct his state of mind at the time of its occurrence. He supposed that he could have triggered it himself; but he did not like what this implied about his mental equipment.
He-spun through a number of S-shaped curves, his eyes continuing their search on both sides of the trail.
So quickly... His confidence had been destroyed in an instant. Would he be seeing Cat behind every rock, every bush, from now on?
Why not?
"Cat!"
Yes.
Where are you? What are you doing?
Amusing myself. The point of this game must be maxi-
mum enjoyment, I have decided. It is good that you cooper- ate so well for this end.
How did you find me?
Nore easily than you might think. As I said, your coopera- tion is appreciated.
I do not understand.
Of course not. You tend to hide things from yourself.
What do you mean?