The Star Fox by Poul Anderson

Author:Poul Anderson [Anderson, Poul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780425037720
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1965-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

"Trois jeunes tambours, s'en revenaient de guerre.

Trois jeunes tambours, s'en revenaient de guerre.

Et ri, et ran, ra-pa-ta-plan, S'en revenaient de guerre.-"

When he had finished, he went on to "Rimini," "Marching through Georgia," "The British Grenadiers," and "From Syrtis to Cydonia." Heim and Jocelyn panted with him in the choruses, and perhaps Uthg-a-K'thaq, or even Bragdon, got some help too from the tramping rhythms and the brave images of home. They reached the woods sooner, in better shape, than expected.

"Thanks, Endre," Heim said.

"My job, you know," Vadász answered.

Resting before they went among the trees, Heim studied the growth more closely. At a distance, by dawnlight, he had seen that it wound across the hills along a fault line, and was as sharply bordered as if artificial. Since the northwestern edge was well above him on a steep rise, he had also made out a curious, churned sweep of soil on that side, which passed around the slopes beyond his purview. Now he was too near to see anything but the barrier itself.

"Not brushy after all," he observed in surprise. "Only one kind of plant. What do you think of that?"

"We are none xenowotanists," the engineer grunted.

The trees were about four meters tall; nothing grows high on Staurn. And they were no thicker than a man's arm. But numberless flexible branches grew along the stems, from top to bottom, each in turn split into many shoots. In places the entanglement of limbs was so dense as to be nearly solid. Only the upper twigs bore leaves; but those were matted together into a red roof beneath which the inner forest looked night-black.

"This'll be machete work," Heim said. "We shouldn't have to move a lot slower than usual, though. One man cuts-that doesn't look too hard-while the others rest. I'll begin." He unlimbered his blade.

Which! Which! The wood was soft, the branches fell right and left as fast as he could wield his tool. In an hour the males ran through a cycle of turns, Jocelyn being excused, and were far into the forest. With the sun still only a couple of hours up, Heim exulted.

"Take over, Gunnar," Vadász rattled. "The sweat is gurgling around my mouth."

Heim rose and advanced along the narrow trail. It was hot and still in here. A thick purple twilight soaked through the leaves, making vision difficult where one stood and impossible a few meters off. Withes rustled against him, spring-fly resisting his passage. He felt a vibration go back through the machete and his wrist, into his body, as he chopped. Huh! Odd. Like the whole interlocked wilderness shivering. The trees stirred and soughed. Yet there was no breath of wind.

Jocelyn shrieked.

Heim spun on his heel. A branch was coiling down past her, along her airsuit. Something struck his back. He lifted his machete-tried to-a dozen tendrils clutched him by the arm. He tore free.

An earthquake rumble went through the gloom. Heim lost balance under a thrust. He fell to one knee. Pain shot through the point of impact.

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