Cat Karina by Michael G. Coney

Author:Michael G. Coney [Coney, Michael G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: E-Reads
Published: 2010-06-30T18:30:00+00:00

The second decision of Karina.

“When a felino’s shruglegger dies,” said Haleka, “he replaces it. If a captain’s sailcar should be irreparably damaged, he builds another. If a mountain-man’s llama falls down a cliff, well, it will always leave the kids behind to take up the burden. But when a tump dies, what does the tumpier do? It cannot be replaced or repaired. And it certainly cannot have children. So the tumpier is useless without his tump.”

“Don’t talk like that,” said Karina. Evening approached, and she and her sisters sat beside the errant tump. The animal had ceased its downhill crawl only because it had reached the sailway. Now it pushed against the southbound running rail, having already demolished the lee guiderail. Its body heaved with effort and it snorted hugely from the nostrils near the top of its head. Messages had been sent and traffic halted.

“I inherited this tump from my father, and he from his father,” said Haleka.

“And so on, back until the first tump crawled from the Whirst Institute, mounted by the first tumpier,” suggested Teressa with a hint of laughter.

“Shut up, Tess.”

Haleka continued, “I have a son. He’s an apprentice over Torres way, and he would have mounted this tumo when I died. But now — I have nothing to leave him, and I have no reason for my own existence.”

“This stuff’s good, said Runa, munching on the narcotic herb falla.

“There’s a car coming,” said Saba.

In fact two cars came rolling eastwards on the light evening air. The first was Estrella del Oeste of the patched sails, the Pegman swinging from the shrouds and gibbering like an ape, then suddenly calling upon Fate in a voice which carried across the plain: “I demand that you change happentracks! I request an immediate transfer! Corriente, where are you?”

The second car was newer, a light passenger craft bearing Maquinista and a number of Specialists. The two cars drew up and the workers rushed for the damaged track, some gathering around the tump and trying to lead it away from the wreckage.

“You’re wasting your time,” said Haleka.

Meanwhile, Maquinista and Karina confronted each other.

Karina said, “You see, I’m still alive. Your crocodiles couldn’t kill me — not for want of trying.”

“Did they … hurt you?”

“Well, what do you think?”

He regarded her steadily. “But you didn’t tell El Tigre. Why not?”

“I fight my own battles. And Cocodrilo is dead, isn’t he? Perhaps you’ll be next, True Human bastard.”

Maquinista looked at her for a moment longer, just long enough for something behind her eyes to disturb him profoundly, then he turned back to the tump. “Pegman, dismantle both tracks. We’re going to have to let the brute through, then repair the tracks behind it.”

“We don’t have time! Darkness approaches on leathery wings!”

“I’ll provide the light.”

“I hope you have your prayers ready,” said the Pegman more seriously, “otherwise Agni may consume us all.”

“I find a jug of water much more useful than prayers, in these situations,” said Maquinista drily, and dispatched a Specialist to the beach.

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