Chapter 96
"They heard us coming," Samir whispered to Madan. Madan shook his head.
"No. We were very quiet," he whispered back. It was true. The encounter with the tiger the previous day had made them very careful. They no longer talked while walking, and made frequent short stops to examine the way ahead.
"Let's get out of sight, just in case," said Samir. They moved behind a large bush a few steps up the slope of the hill overlooking the valley. Samir cast an anxious glance up the slope - they could still be easily seen by anyone on top of the hill. For a moment he wanted to propose moving there, but the top of the hill was bare rock. The few stones and clumps of gra.s.s that grew in isolated pockets of soil didn't provide enough cover for an observer.
They squatted behind the bush, searching the valley for the slightest hint of a strange presence. They couldn't see any, but they played it safe and stayed hidden long after the campfire had ceased sending its smoke signals. After a while, they got hungry as well as thirsty. They ate dried fish and boiled air potatoes wrapped in wild spinach leaves, and drank all the water that remained in their waterskins.
There was still no sign of life in the valley, apart from big, colorful b.u.t.terflies that were enjoying flitting between the wildflowers scattered along the stream. Samir caught himself staring at them instead of watching out for intruders. He wished he could splash cool water over his head and neck: the sun was merciless.
"I think it's safe to go down there," he whispered to Madan. Madan was sweating as badly as Samir was, and didn't protest. Cautiously, they skittered down the slope like a pair of lizards, eyes and ears on maximum alert, stopping now and then to appraise the situation. Nothing, no one! They were alone in the valley - or so it seemed.
They examined the dead campfire thoroughly: its ashes told them it had been built by someone with little experience. Several thick pieces of wood were laid on the very bottom, and it had been topped with leafy branches guaranteed to give little heat and plenty of smoke. Anyone hoping to cook anything on that campfire would be starving by the time it was done, that was for sure.
"It's time we got to work," Samir told Madan. "We'll have a hard time with the tools we've got. Let's use whatever light there's left to make a start."
Madan agreed, and they both approached the spot where they'd found seams of copper and silver ore. There was a patch of bare rock at the base of the hill overlooking the valley, neighboring a dent that wasn't deep enough to be called a cave. When they got closer, they saw a foot sticking out of the hidden s.p.a.ce, propped up on a flat stone.
They both froze. They looked at each other; then Samir took a cautious step forward, his bamboo pole at the ready. Madan followed. The foot was attached to a leg. The leg turned out to belong to a young female. She was lying on her back, dressed in a rawhide s.h.i.+ft, with gla.s.sy eyes staring at the rock overhang. Her other leg was bent in an unnatural way. The knee resembled a purple melon; despite the swelling, Samir could see the kneecap had moved to the side, 90 degrees from where it should be.
There were no signs of other injuries. After they'd looked at the corpse for a while, Samir and Madan agreed it had to be an unlucky accident. They found it a little hard to accept - the girl should have managed to survive even with a knee out of joint, with water so close by - but then Madan turned the corpse around, and they saw the streaks of s.h.i.+t running down the dead girl's thighs.
"Diarrhea and a twisted knee," Madan said. "That can kill you. For sure. Oh! Wait."
He bent down and picked up something from the ground.
"That's what did it,"
"You're sure she's dead? She felt warm when we turned her around," said Samir.
"She's dead all right. But it's a hot day, and she hasn't been dead for long. She was probably dying while we were sitting behind that bush."
They were both silent for a long time. Then Samir said:
"We wouldn't have been able to help her. It was too late."
"We could have held her hand when she was dying," said Madan. Samir snorted.
"You're alone when you die," he said. "Even when you have a crowd a.s.sembled and everyone's wailing and pus.h.i.+ng to touch you or hold your hand. Because it's you that is doing the dying. Madan, let's just bury her and get on with the job. And while we're at it, let's think how she turned up here. Maybe she's got friends that will come looking for her. Maybe they'll think we killed her. It's best that we do what we have to do as quickly as we can, and leave."
"If she did have friends," Madan said, "Then sooner or later they'll discover us in Kulaba."
"Maybe that's good. Maybe they'll join us."
"And maybe they'll want to kill us all."
"Madan," Samir said. "You need to lighten up. Not all people are a.s.sholes. Look at you and me. We're fine, aren't we?"
Madan shot Samir a dark look and said nothing.
"What is it?"
Madan cleared his throat and said:
"You did not have the experience Kali and I had. You had no bandits attacking you and beating you until you are half dead and raping your wife and giving you a choice to become their slave, or become dead."
"This isn't going to happen," said Samir. "We'll get plenty of new colonists, never mind Sunil - I've got plenty of other neighbors. And Rani's brought a couple of fine boys and another girl from the market. That's what she told me right before we left. We'll build a big, strong colony, and we won't sit and wait for anyone to discover us: we'll go looking for them. And if they aren't friendly, we'll just kill and destroy them!"
Samir stopped, embarra.s.sed by the fact that he'd raised his voice till he was close to shouting. He saw Madan was embarra.s.sed too, more - he was uneasy. It was time for a bribe.
"With many new colonists and your new religion, we won't need to fear anyone," Samir said. It had the right effect.
"Let's hope so," Madan said, trying but failing to appear unpleased. "You're right. Priorities are priorities. Let's get to work."
By the time it got dark, they'd only managed to fill half a basket with promising-looking stones and ore literally scratched out of the rock. After a short discussion, they decided they'd not light a fire, and that one of them would keep watch at all times. Samir took the first of the two s.h.i.+fts.
The moon was nearly full that night, and the cloudless sky sparkled with countless stars. Samir watched the stream wink and glitter: he heard the trees sigh in the wind and the gra.s.s hiss as invisible small creatures went about their business, most likely giving his immobile form a very wary eye. He was one of them. He felt their fear. It increased his determination to recruit new colonists, even if they were kids. A hundred rats could defeat a wolf.
Of course, they all needed a good reason, good morale. Madan's new religion could be helpful. Samir found himself wavering in his determination to put an end to Madan's project. When something was useful, did it make sense to discard it for purely ideological reasons? He had to be more flexible. A ruler had to listen to his people.
He looked at Madan. They were in this together practically since the beginning. It was only fair to let Madan have his way from time to time. It wasn't exactly a calamity, becoming a demi-G.o.d or whatever Madan had in mind. He decided he'd give Madan's new religion full support. They were in this together, after all.
They both worked like madmen from the moment the sun came up. Even then, they did not manage to fill the baskets by nightfall. When that became obvious, they stopped work to bury the girl. After a short discussion, they decided to bury her in the rawhide s.h.i.+ft she wore. It made Samir regret they hadn't come down the hill in time to hold the girl's hand when she died. It would have given him the moral authority to take her dress. It was good hide, thick and strong and hairy, and they could have used it back in Kulaba.
Their second night in the valley was a troubled night: they were running low on food, and staying put increased the chance the girl's friends would show up. When morning came, they threw themselves into work with such vigor they were done by midday.
They filled their waterskins, with Madan putting carefully chosen handfuls of stream-bed gravel into one of his baskets. Then they set out on the long way home.
It was much harder that going the other way. The straps of the baskets bit deep into their shoulders; they each carried an extra fifty kilos of weight. There was no question of their talking along the way. They didn't have enough breath left for talking.
They didn't see the tiger on their way back, but they heard it. It snarled and roared the evening they pa.s.sed their earlier meeting spot. Samir had no experience at all of tigers, but Madan did. He told Samir tigers didn't make noises for no reason. He said the tiger knew they were there, and promised to let them pa.s.s as long as they didn't stay. Samir kept glancing at Madan for the next few hours as they went on. He was full of admiration and wonder. What an imagination! Madan was clearly cut out to head a new religion.
When they finally arrived in Kulaba, Rani was ecstatic.
"I didn't wake you because it isn't bad news," she said. "But I couldn't wait for you to get back! You'll never guess what happened."
Samir groaned.
"Oh no," he said. "Have mercy on me, Rani. I've just walked close to a hundred kilometers."
"But you must try and guess."
"Forget it. I'm too tired to provide any entertainment," Samir said. His voice had hardened; Rani shot him a glance and said:
"The army officer came back. Only he isn't an officer at all, it's the sergeant we met when the soldiers were unloading the cube! Sunil is so stupid, you should really think twice before making him a colonist."
"I will," Samir said quickly. "What did that sergeant want?"
"He knows we have a colony. He did not tell anyone, and he won't. What he wants is to join it, and he says many of his soldiers want to, as well."
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