Mutants: 2 by Silverberg Robert

Author:Silverberg, Robert [Silverberg, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, SF Anthologies 4, Anthologies, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780525664123
Amazon: 0525664122
Barnesnoble: 0525664122
Goodreads: 449360
Publisher: Dutton Juvenile
Published: 1974-12-01T08:00:00+00:00

Hothouse

Brian W. Aldiss

Few visions of the distant future are as vivid, as flamboyant, as soaring as the one set down here by the celebrated British writer Brian Aldiss, The steaming tropical planet he has created is one in which all creatures of today have mutated into strange and grotesque forms, all but the human beings who wander like lost children amid the bizarre animals and plants of the unending jungle, Aldiss* many novels include Starship, Barefoot in the Head, and The Dark Light-Years. He has won the Hugo and Nebula awards several times, including a trophy in 1962 for the series of stories of which “Hothouse” was the first.

My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires and more slow.—Andrew Marvell The heat, the light, the humidity—these were constant and had remained constant for … but nobody knew how long. Nobody cared any more for the big questions that begin “How long …” or “Why…? It was no longer a place for mind. It was a place for growth, for vegetables. It was like a hothouse.

In the green light, some of the children came out to play. Alert for enemies, they ran along the branch, calling to each other in soft voices. A fast-growing berrywhisk moved upwards to one side, its sticky crimson mass of berries gleaming. Clearly it was intent on seeding and would offer the children no harm. They scuttled past it. Beyond the margin of the group strip, some nettiemoss had sprung up during their period of sleep. It stirred as the children approached.

“Kill it,” Toy said simply. She was the head child of the group. She was ten. The others obeyed her. Unsheathing the sticks every child carried in imitation of every adult, they scraped at the nettle-moss. They scraped at it and hit it. Excitement grew in them as they beat down the plant, squashing its poisoned tips.

Clat fell forward in her excitement. She was only five, the youngest of the group’s children. Her hands fell among the poisonous stuff. She cried aloud and rolled aside. The other children also cried, but did not venture into the nettiemoss to save her.

Struggling out of the way, little Clat cried again. Her fingers clutched at the rough bark—then she was tumbling from the branch.

The children saw her fall onto a great spreading leaf several lengths below, clutch it, and lie there quivering on the quivering green. She looked up pitifully.

“Fetch Lily-yo,” Toy told Gren. Gren sped back along the branch to get Lily-yo. A tigerfly swooped out of the air at him, humming its anger deeply. He struck it aside with a hand, not pausing. He was nine, a rare man child, very brave already, and fleet and proud. Swiftly he ran to the Headwoman’s hut.

Under the branch, attached to its underside, hung eighteen great homemaker nuts. Hollowed out they were, and cemented into place with the cement distilled from the acetoyle plant. Here lived the eighteen members of the group, one to each homemaker’s nut—the Head-woman, her five women, their man, and the eleven surviving children.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.