Snail on the Slope

Chapter Seven

The village was very strange. When they emerged from the forest and saw it below in the dip, the silence stunned them. It was so quiet that their joy was dampened. The village was triangular in shape and the sizeable clearing on which it stood was similarly three-sided - a wide clay outcrop without a single bush or blade of grass, as if it had been burned off and then stamped down, completely black and sheltered from the sky by the interlacing tops of mighty trees.

"I don't like this village," announced Nava. "It'll likely be hard to beg a bite to eat there. They're not likely to have food if they haven't even got fields, just bare clay. They're likely hunters, trapping and eating animals, makes you sick to think..."

"Perhaps we've landed up at Funny Village?" inquired Kandid. "Perhaps it's Clay Clearing?"

"How can it be Funny Village? Funny Village is just an ordinary village, like our village only funny folk live there. But here, the quiet and nobody to be seen, no kids, they might be in bed, mind... And why's there nobody about, Dummy? Let's not go into that village, I don't like it at all..."

The sun was setting, and the village below was sinking into shadow. It had the air of being very empty but not deserted, not abandoned, simply empty, unreal, as if it were not a village at all but some sort of stage scenery. Yes, thought Kandid, probably we shouldn't go there, only my feet are hurting and I'd give a lot for a roof over my head. And something to eat. And the night's coming on... We've been wandering around the forest all day, even Nava's weary, hanging on to my arm, not letting go. "All right," he said hesitantly, "let's not go."

"Not go, not go," said Nava, "just when I want to eat? How long can I last without eating? I've had nothing since morning ... and your robbers ... that made me mighty hungry. No, let's go down there, have a bite and if we don't like it, we'll leave straight away. The night's going to be warm, no rain ... let's go, what're you standing there for?"

As soon as they reached the edge of the village someone called them. Alongside the first house, on the gray earth sat a gray man, practically naked. It was hard to pick him out in the twilight, he almost merged with the earth and Kandid was only able to make out his silhouette against the background of a whitewashed wall.

"Where are you going?" asked the man in a feeble voice.

"We're going to spend the night here and in the morning we have to go to New Village. We've lost our way, we ran away from some robbers and lost the way."

"You came here yourselves, then?" said the man weakly. "You've done well then, good people... You come in, come in, there's lots of work to be done and hardly any people left now..." He could hardly bring the words out, as if he were nodding off. "And the work must be done, it's just got to be, got to be..." "Will you give us something to eat?" asked Kandid. "Just now we've got ..." The man spoke some words that struck Kandid as familiar, except that he knew he'd never heard them before. "It's good that a boy's come, because a boy ..." He started talking strange, incomprehensible words again.

Nava tugged at Kandid, but he tore his arm away in annoyance."I can't understand you," he said to the man, trying to get a better look at him at least. "Just tell me whether you've got food by you or not."

"Now if there were three..." said the man.

Nava dragged Kandid off to one side by main force.

"Is he ill?" said Kandid angrily. "Did you understand what he was saying?"

"What are you talking to him for?" whispered Nava. "He hasn't got a face! How can you talk to him if he hasn't got a face?"

"How d'you mean 'no face'?" Kandid looked around in amazement. The man was not to be seen;

either he'd gone or had melted into the shadows.

"He's like a deadling," she said. "Only he's not, he's got a smell, but for all that, he's like a deadling... Let's go to some other house, but we won't get anything to eat here, don't think you will."

She hauled him off to the next house and they glanced inside. Everything in the house was odd, no beds, no smell of habitation, inside it was empty, dark, unpleasant. Nava sniffed the air.

"There's never been any food here," she said, repelled. "You've brought me to some stupid village, Dummy. What shall we do here? In my life I've never seen villages like this. There's no children shouting and there's nobody in the street."

They walked on. Beneath their feet lay a cool fine dust; their very steps were soundless and there were none of the usual evening hootings and gurgling from the forest.

•'He spoke in a funny way," said Kandid. "I've been thinking, I've heard that talk somewhere before ... but when and where I don't remember..."

"I don't remember either," said Nava, after a pause, "but it's true. Dummy, I've heard words like that, maybe in a dream, maybe in our village, not the one where you and I live now, but the other one where I was born, only then that would have been a very long time ago, because I was still very little, I've forgotten everything since, just now it was as if I remembered, but I just can't remember properly."

In the next house they saw a man lying flat on the floor by the entrance, asleep. Kandid bent down and shook him by the shoulder, but the man did not wake up. His skin was moist and cold like an amphibian, he was flabby, soft, and lacked muscle almost entirely. His lips in the semi-darkness seemed black and had an oily gleam.

"He's asleep," said Kandid, turning to Nava. "What d'you mean asleep, when he's looking at us?" said Nava.

Kandid bent over the man again and it now seemed that he was watching them through barely-open eyes. The impression lasted only briefly. "No, no, he's asleep all right," said Kandid. "Let's go."

Unusually for her, Nava said nothing. They made their way to the center of the village, glancing into every house, and in every house they saw sleepers. All the sleepers were plump, fleshy men. There wasn't a single woman or child. Nava was now completely silent and Kandid also felt uneasy. The bellies of the sleepers rumbled heavily. They didn't wake up, but almost every time that Kandid looked back at them as he passed out into the street it seemed that they were following him with quick cautious glances.

By now it had got dark and scraps of sky made ashen by the moon peeped through between the branches; to Kandid it once more seemed weirdly like the backdrop in a good theater. He felt weary to the ultimate degree, to complete and utter indifference. Just now he wanted only one thing; to lie down somewhere under a roof (in case some nocturnal horror fell on him asleep), let it be on a hard stamped floor, but better anyhow in an empty house, not with these suspicious sleepers. Nava was now literally hanging on his arm. "Don't you be afraid," said Kandid, "there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of here." "What d'you say?" she asked sleepily. "I said: don't be afraid, they're all half dead here, I could turf them out with one hand."

"I'm not afraid of anybody," said Nava angrily, "I'm tired out and I want to go to sleep, if you can't give me anything to eat. You keep going on from house to house, house to house. I'm fed up, it's the same in every house anyway, all the people are lying down resting, and you and me are the only ones wandering about..."

Kandid then made up his mind and entered the first house he came across. It was pitch black inside. Kandid pricked his ears trying to determine whether anyone was inside or not, but all he could hear was the snuffling of Nava who had her forehead buried in his side. He found the wall by groping and scrabbled about on the floor to see if it was wet; he lay down placing Nava's head on his stomach. She was already asleep. He hoped to himself he had done the right thing, there was something wrong about this place ... still, just one night ... then ask the way ... they won't sleep in the daytime ... at worst into the swamp, the robbers had gone ... and if they hadn't... how were the lads in New Village? ... Surely not the day after tomorrow again? ... Not at all, tomorrow ... tomorrow...

He was awakened by a light and thought it was the moon. Inside the house it was dark, the lilac light was coming in by the door and it struck him as interesting that this light could enter by both the door and the window in the opposite wall, then he remembered he was in the forest and this could be no real moon; he at once forgot all this as the silhouette of a man appeared in the strip of light falling from the window. The man was standing in the house with his back to Kandid, gazing out of the window, and it was obvious by his silhouette that he was standing with his arms behind his back and head bowed. The forest inhabitants never stood like that - there was simply no reason for them to do so - but Karl Etinghof used to like to stand like that by the laboratory window during the rain and fog season when there was no work to do, and the clear realization came to him that this was Karl Etinghof, who had gone absent from the biostation one day and had not returned from the forest. He had been posted as missing without trace. Kandid gave a gasp of ex citement and cried "Karl!" As Karl slowly turned, the lilac light fell across his face and Kandid saw that it was not Karl but some unknown local inhabitant; he came noiselessly up to Kandid and bent over him, hands still behind his back, so that his face became clearly visible - an emaciated, beardless face, indeed quite unlike Karl's face. He straightened up without a word, seeming not to see Kandid, and made for the door, stooping as before, and when he was stepping across the threshold Kandid realized that it was Karl after all, leaped to his feet and ran after him.

Beyond the entrance he halted and looked up and down the street, trying to suppress a nervous tremor that had suddenly taken hold of him. It was now very bright outside from the luminous lilac cloud hanging low over the village and all the houses seemed two-dimensional and more than ever unreal, while at an angle on the other side of the street rose a long outlandish structure unlike any normal forest building. Near to it figures were moving. The man resembling Karl was heading along for the building; when he reached the crowd he mingled with it and vanished as if he had never been. Kandid also wanted to get to the building but his legs felt like cotton wool and he couldn't move. He was astonished that he could still stand up. Afraid he would fall, he looked for something to support him; there was nothing but emptiness all around. "Karl," he mumbled, swaying, "Karl, come back!" He repeated the words several times, finally shouting aloud in despair; no one heard him, for at that very moment a much louder cry rang out, piteous and wild, a frank sob of pain that rang in his ears and forced tears to his eyes; for some reason he realized at once that the cry came from that long structure, perhaps because there was nowhere else it could be.

"Where's Nava?" he began to shout. "My girl, where are you?" He realized that he would lose her now, that the moment had come for him to lose everything that was close to him, all that linked him to life, and he would be alone. He turned to rush into the house and saw Nava, slowly falling backward. He caught and lifted her without understanding what had happened to her. Her head was thrown back and her open throat was in front of his eyes; where everybody has a hollow between their collarbones, Nava had two and he would never see them again. The screaming sob had not stopped and he knew that he had to go where it was. He was only too well aware what a feat this would be, dragging her over there, but he also knew that they would simply consider it normal procedure, because they didn't understand what it meant to hold a wife in your arms, warm and unique and carry her yourself to a place of weeping.

The cry broke off. Kandid saw that he was standing right in front of the building before the square black door, and strove to understand what he was doing there with Nava in his arms. He did not succeed, for out of the square black door came two women and Karl, all three displeased and frowning, and halted in conversation. He saw their lips moving and guessed they were arguing irritably but the words he could not understand, just once he caught the half-familiar word "chiasmus." Then one of the women, without interrupting the conversation, turned to the crowd and gestured as if inviting all of them into the building. Kandid said, "Right away, right away," and hugged Nava to him more tightly than ever. Once again the loud cry rang out and everybody began shuffling about, the fat people began to embrace one another, hug one another close, stroke and caress each other; their eyes were dry and their lips tightly closed, nevertheless they were crying and shouting, taking farewell of each other, for it turned out they were men and women and the men were saying good-bye to the women forever. No one wanted to go first, so Kandid went up first, since he was a brave man, since he knew he had to and since he knew that there was no help for him in any case. Karl, however, glanced at him and motioned him aside with a barely perceptible shake of the head, and Kandid felt utterly weird because it wasn't Karl after all, but he understood and retreated, knocking into soft and slippery bodies with his back. And when Karl gave

another shake of the head, he turned, slung Nava over his shoulder and ran on rubbery legs along the bright, empty village street as if in a dream; there was no sound of pursuit.

He came to himself as he collided with a tree. Nava shrieked and he lowered her to the ground. There was grass underfoot.

From here the whole village could be surveyed. A fog of lilac luminescence hung in a cone over the village, and the houses looked blurred as the figures of the people seemed blurred.

"For some reason I can't remember anything," said Nava, "why are we here? We went to bed. Or am I dreaming?"

Kandid lifted her and carried her farther and farther crashing through bushes, tripping over grass, until all around became completely dark. He pushed on a little farther yet, set Nava down once more and sat down beside her. Around them grew tall warm grass, keeping the damp out; never had Kandid chanced upon such a dry, warm, blissful place since he had been in the forest. He had a headache and drowsiness kept coming on; he felt no desire to think at all, there was just this feeling of huge relief that he had been about to do something terrible and had not done it.

"Dummy," said Nava dreamily, "you know. Dummy, I've remembered where I heard talk like that before. You used to talk like that, Dummy, when you hadn't recovered your wits. Listen, Dummy, maybe you've just forgotten. You were very sick then, Dummy, lost your wits altogether..."

"Go to sleep," said Kandid. He didn't want to think. Not about anything. Chiasmus, he recalled and fell asleep at once. Not quite at once. He recalled suddenly that it wasn't Karl that had gone missing; that was Valentine, it was Valentine's name that had been posted up in orders, Karl had perished in the forest and they had put his body, discovered by accident, in a lead coffin and shipped it to the Mainland. But he thought he might be dreaming all that.

When he opened his eyes, Nava was still asleep. She was lying on her stomach in the hollow between two roots, her face buried in the crook of her left arm with her right flung out to one side; Kandid saw a thin shining object in her dirty, half-open fist. At first he didn't realize what it was, and he was occupied with the sudden memory of the strange half-dream of the night, his fear, and the relief he felt at something terrible which had not happened. It then occurred to him what the object actually was, even its name swam into his memory. It was a scalpel. He waited a while, testing the shape of the object with the sound of the word, realizing at the back of his mind that it was correct, but impossible, because a scalpel by its name and shape was monstrously incongruous in this world. He roused Nava.

Nava awoke and, sitting up, began to talk at once.

"What a dry place, I never in all my life thought there were dry places like this, look how high the grass grows, eh, Dummy?" She became quiet and brought the scalpel in her fist close to her eyes. She gazed at it for a second, then squealed and flung it, shuddering, from her. She leapt to her feet. The scalpel sliced into the grass and stood quivering. They looked at it and both were terrified.

"What is it, Dummy?" whispered Nava at last, "what a horrible thing ... is it a thing? Maybe it's a plant? Look, it's all dry around here - maybe it grew here?"

"Why -horrible'?" asked Kandid.

"Why ever not?" said Nava. "You pick it up ... you try, try, go on ... then you'll know why it's horrible. I don't know, myself, why it's horrible..."

Kandid picked up the scalpel. It was still warm, but the sharp point struck cold. Passing a cautious finger along it, he found where it changed from warm to cold.

"Where did you pick it up?" asked Kandid.

"I didn't pick it up anywhere," said Nava. "It likely crawled into my hand by itself, while I was asleep. See how cold it is? It likely wanted to get warm and crawled into my hand. I've never seen anything like it,

I don't know what to call it. Likely it's not a plant, it's some kind of beastie, maybe he's got legs just tucked them up, only so hard and nasty ... maybe we're asleep, Dummy, you and I?" She faltered all of a sudden and looked at Kandid. "Were we in the village tonight? Surely we were, there was a man without a face as well, and he kept thinking I was - a boy... And we hunted for somewhere to sleep ... yes, and then I woke up, you had gone and I started feeling about with my hands. That's when it crawled into my hand!" she said, "but it's surprising, Dummy, I wasn't at all frightened of it then, just the opposite even ... I even wanted it for something..."

"It was all a dream," said Kandid decisively. The hair had risen on his scalp. He remembered all the events of the night. And Karl. And how he had shaken his head just slightly; run while you can. And that when he was alive, Karl had been a surgeon.

"Why don't you say anything, Dummy?" asked Nava, gazing anxiously at his face. "Where are you looking?"

Kandid pushed her away. "It was a dream," he repeated harshly, "forget it. Better hunt up something to eat, and I'll bury this thing."

"What did I need it for, don't you know?" asked Nava. "I had to do something..." She shook her head. "I don't like dreams like that, Dummy," she said, "you can't remember a thing. You bury it deep otherwise it'll get out and crawl into the village and frighten somebody. Good idea to put a stone on top, a pretty heavy one, too... Well, you bury it and I'll go and look for food." She sniffed the air. "There's berries somewhere near here. I never did, berries in such a dry place?"

She ran off lightly and noiselessly over the grass and was soon lost to view beyond the trees. Kandid remained seated, holding the scalpel in his palm. He didn't bury it. He wiped the blade with a handful of grass and tucked it in his blouse. Now he recalled everything and could understand nothing. It was a kind of strange and terrible dream, and owing to some oversight, the scalpel had fallen out of it. What a pity, he thought, today my head's clearer than it's ever been and all the same I can't understand a thing. That means I never will.

Nava quickly returned and dug out from her bosom a pile of berries and several sizeable fungi.

"There's a path over there, Dummy," she said. "Let's not go back to that village, you and I, why should we, let it ... let's you and I go by the path, we're bound to get somewhere. We can ask there the way to New Village and everything'll be all right. It's just amazing how much I want now to get to New Village, never before wanted to so much. Let's not go back to that nasty village, I didn't like it there, you know if we hadn't got away from there, something awful would have happened. If you want to know, we shouldn't have come here, those robbers did shout at you not to go or you were done for, but of course you never listen to anybody... Because of you we nearly got into trouble... Why don't you eat? The mushrooms are filling and the berries are nice, rub them in your palm and make them into crumbs, you're like a kid today. I remember now, mam used to tell me the best mushrooms grow where it's dry, but I didn't know what dry meant, mam used to say that there were lots of dry places before, like on a good road, that's why she understood and I didn't..."

Kandid tried a mushroom and ate it. They really were good, and so were the berries; he felt his strength coming back. He still didn't know what to do next, however. He wasn't keen to go back to the village. He tried to visualize the locality as Hopalong had drawn it on the ground with a stick, and recalled that Hopalong used to speak of a road to the City, a road which should run through these parts. "It's a very good road," Hopalong would say regretfully, "the most direct road to the City, only we can't get there across the quagmire, that's the trouble." He lied. The lame one lied. He had gone across the quagmire and had been in the City probably, but for some reason he lied. But perhaps Nava's path was that self-same road? It had to be risked. But first they had to go back, back to the village...

"We'll have to go back all the same, Nava," he said, after they had eaten.

"Where to? Back to that nasty village?" Nava was upset. "Now why do you say that to me, Dummy? What's there left to see in that village? That's what I can't like about you, Dummy, there's no making any arrangements with you... We'd already decided that we wouldn't go back to that village, and I found the path for you, now you start saying we've got to go back..."

"We have to," he answered, "I don't want to either, Nava, but we have to. What if they can tell us there the quickest way to get to the City?"

"Why to the City? I don't want to go to the City, I want to go to New Village!"

"We're going straight to the City," said Kandid, "I can't stand any more of this."

"Well, all right," said Nava, "all right, let's go to the City, even better, what's left to be seen in New Village? Let's go to the City, I agree, I'm always in agreement with you, only don't let's go back to that village. You think what you like, Dummy, but for my part, I'd never return to that village..."

"It's the same with me," he said, "but it's got to be done. Don't be angry, Nava, I really don't want to..."

"If you don't want to, why go?" He didn't want to and couldn't explain to her why. He rose and without looking back, went in the direction of the village, through the warm, dry grass, past the warm, dry tree trunks, squinting from the warm sun of which there was unusually much hereabouts, heading toward a horror from which all his muscles were still painfully strained, toward a strange and quiet hope that broke through the horror, like a blade of grass through asphalt.

Nava caught him up and walked alongside. She was angry and was even silent for some time, but couldn't keep it up.

"Just don't think that I'm going to talk to those people, you can talk to them, you're going there, you talk to them. I don't like having anything to do with a man if he hasn't got a face, I don't like that. Expect no good from a man like that, if he can't tell a boy from a girl... My head's been aching since morning, and now I know why. , .."

They came on the village unexpectedly. Apparently, Kandid had veered off the true direction and the village now opened out among the trees on the right. Everything was altered, though. Kandid didn't at first realize what had happened. Then he did; the village had drowned.

The triangular clearing was awash with black water, and water was entering before their eyes, filling the clay dip, drowning the houses, silently eddying along the streets. Kandid stood and watched helplessly as windows disappeared under the water and waterlogged walls crumbled and sank, roofs caved in and nobody ran out of the houses, nobody attempted to reach the shore, not a single person appeared on the surface of the water. Perhaps there were no people there, perhaps they'd left that night, but he felt it-wasn't as simple as that. It's not a village, he thought, it's a model, it stood forgotten and dusty and then somebody got curious as to what would happen if it were covered with water. It might be interesting? ... So they did it. But it wasn't interesting...

Gently caving in, the roof of a smooth building slid into the water. A light breath seemed to float over the water, waves fled over the even surface and all was over. Before Kandid lay an ordinary triangular lake, for the moment quite shallow and lifeless. Later it would deepen into a gulf, fish would appear, for us to catch, prepare, and place in formalin.

"I know what this is called," said Nava. Her voice was so calm, that Kandid glanced at her. She really was absolutely calm, even, it seemed, pleased. "It's called the Accession," she said, "that's why they had no faces and I didn't understand straight away. Likely they wanted to live in the lake. They used to tell me that the people who lived in the houses can stay and live in the lake, there'll be a lake here now for always, those who don't want to can leave. Take me for example, I would leave, though maybe it would be better living in the lake. But that nobody knows... Maybe we could bathe here?" she suggested.

"No," said Kandid, "I don't want to bathe here. Let's get on to your path. Come on."

I've just got to get out of here, he thought, unless I want to be like that machine in the maze... We all stood around and laughed as it busily probed and searched and sniffed ... then we filled a small trough in its path with water and it panicked touchingly but only for a moment, then its busy antennae got going again, buzzing and sniffing, not knowing that we were observing it, and in general we couldn't have cared less that it didn't, though it was that which was the most terrible thing of all. If it was terrible at all, he thought. Necessity can't be either terrible or kind. Necessity is necessary, and anything else about it we imagine ourselves, or machines in mazes, if they can imagine. It's just that when we make a mistake, necessity grips us by the throat and we start crying and complaining how cruel and terrible it is, and it's just exactly what it is - it's us who are stupid or blind. I can even philosophize today, he thought. Probably from the lack of humidity. That's all I need, I can philosophize...

"There it is, your path," said Nava angrily, "come on, if you please."

Angry, he thought. Won't let me bathe, I can't talk, it's dry everywhere, nasty ... never mind, let her be angry, she's quiet, and thank God for that. Who walks these paths? Surely they can't be walked often enough to keep the grass down? It's an odd path all right, it is as if it were dug out, not trampled down...

The path led at first through comfortable dry places, but after some time it descended steeply and became a vicious strip of black mud. The pure forest ended, bogs appeared on all sides, moss grew everywhere, it got damp and stifling. Nava at once livened up. She felt much better here. She was now talking continuously and soon the well-known ringing hum took over and established itself in Kandid's head; he moved in a half-dream, forgetting all his philosophy, almost forgetting where he was going, giving himself up to chance thoughts, not even thoughts, fancies.

... Hopalong comes hobbling down the main street and tells everyone he meets (and even if he meets nobody, he still puts it out), that Dummy has gone off, yes, and taken Nava with him, to the City, likely he's gone to the Reed-beds, good fish to trick there; just stick your finger in the water - there you are, a fish. Only why should he, if you think about it. Dummy doesn't eat fish, fool, although maybe he'll decide to catch a few for Nava, Nava eats fish, there now he'll feed her up on fish... But why did he go on asking questions about the City? No-o-o, he's not gone to the Reed-beds, we can't expect him back soon.

Toward him along the main street comes Buster and tells everyone he meets that Dummy now, used to go about trying to talk people into going to the City, Buster, let's go day after tomorrow to the City, and when I make too much food so the old woman tells me off, then off he goes without me and without food ... on his own, yes, wool on yer nose, off he goes, no food, give him one in the eye and put a stop to that, no going with food, and with no food he'd be frightened to go, sit at home, give him one...

And Barnacle stands next to the old man breakfasting at his house and says to him: you're eating again, and eating somebody else's again. Don't think I begrudge it, I'm just amazed how many pots of filling food can be stowed away inside a skinny old man like you. You eat, he says, but you tell me is there really only one of you in the village? Maybe there's really three, or two at least? It's weird looking at you, eat, eat till you're full up, then explain that it's not right to...

Nava walked alongside, hanging on to his arm with both of hers, talking with a reckless air:

"And there was another man living in our village, who they called Anger-Martyr, you wouldn't remember him, you were witless then, and this Anger-Martyr was always annoyed at us and he used to ask: Why? Why is it light in the daytime and dark at night? Why is it beetles that get you drunk but not ants? Why are the deadlings interested in women but not men? The dead-lings stole two wives from him, one after the other. The first one was before my time, but I remember the second, he went about asking why, he asked, did they steal my wife and not me? He deliberately walked whole days and nights in the forest, so's he could be picked up and find his wives, or one of them at least, but of course it didn't work, they don't want men, it's women they need, that's how they're made, and they're not going to change their ways because of any Anger-Martyr... He used to ask us as well why we had to work in the fields when there was more than enough food in the forest, just pour some ferment on the ground then eat your fill. The elder says to him: don't work if you don't want to, nobody's grabbing your arm ... but he still went on: why, but why ... or he would go up to Buster, Why says he, is Upper Village grown over with mushrooms and ours has nary a one? At first Buster quietly explains: the Accession happened up there and not here yet, that's all about it. But he goes on: Why haven't we had the Accession, Buster, after such a long time? What if it hasn't come then asks Buster, you miss it or something? Anger-Martyr won't leave off, he wore Buster out. Buster started shouting, all the village heard him, he waved his fists about and ran off to the elder to complain, the elder got angry as well and called the village together. They all set on Anger-Martyr to punish him, but they couldn't catch him... He used to get onto the old man as well an awful lot At first, the old man stopped going to his house to eat then he tried hiding from him but eventually he couldn't stand it: Leave me alone, says he, the food won't go into my mouth because of you, how should I know - why? The City knows why and that's all about it. Anger-Martyr went off to the City and never came back...

Greeny-yellow blotches swam slowly by to right and left, ripe dope-toadstools puffed deeply and hurled out their spores in ginger fountains; a wandering forest wasp tried to sting their eyes, prompting a hundred-yard dash to escape; multi-colored water spiders clung to the lianas fussing about building their constructions; jumping trees alighted and hunched for another jump before, sensing the presence of people, they froze and pretended to be ordinary trees - there was nothing for the eye to rest on, nothing to record. And nothing to think about either, since to think of Karl and last night and the drowned village meant delirium.

"Anger-Martyr was a good man - it was he and Hopalong found you beyond the Reed-beds. They went off toward the Anthills, but drifted over somehow to the Reed-beds and found you there and dragged you in, or rather Anger-Martyr dragged you in, Hopalong just walked behind picking up the things that fell out of you... Ever such a lot of things he picked up, then, he said he got scared and threw them all away. No such thing ever grew in our village, or could ever. Then Anger-Martyr took the clothes off you, very strange clothes you had, nobody could understand where things like that grew or how... Then he cut them up and planted them, thinking they'd grow. But nothing ever grew for him not even a shoot, and he started going around again asking why, if you cut up and planted anybody's clothes they grew, but yours, Dummy, never even sprouted... He pestered you a lot, gave you no peace, but you had no wits then, just muttered something or other, like that one with no face, and covered your face with your hand. Otherwise he'd never have left you alone. After that lots of men went over beyond the Reed-beds - Buster, Hopalong, even the elder went, hoping to find another one like you. But they never did... Then they brought me to you. Marry him, say they, while you can, get married, you'll have a husband, he's a stranger, so what? So are you, sort of. I'm a stranger too. Dummy. This is how it was: the deadlings had kidnapped mother and me, it was a night without moon..."

The terrain was again beginning to rise, but the humidity remained, although the forest did begin to thin out. The root-snags, decayed boughs, and piles of rotting lianas had disappeared. The greenery had gone, all around was yellow and orange. The trees were now slender, and the swamp had changed oddly - it was now level, without moss and without mud-heaps. The tangled web of undergrowth had disappeared and visibility was good to left and right. The grass on the verges was now softer and juicier, blade against blade as if someone had specially selected and planted them.

Nava halted in mid-word, drew breath and said matter-of-factly glancing around; "Where could you hide here? Looks like nowhere to hide..."

"Is someone coming?" asked Kandid.

"A lot of someones, and I don't know who... It's not deadlings, but best to hide anyway. We could stay in the open of course, they're pretty close anyway, and there's nowhere to hide. Let's get on the verge and have a look..." She sniffed again. "Nasty sort of smell, not dangerous, but better if it wasn't there... You, Dummy, can't you smell it? It stinks like over-rotted ferment - a pot of over-rotted ferment covered in mold right in front of your nose... There they are! Eh, little ones, they're all right, you can chase them away, shoo! shoo!"

"Be quiet," said Kandid, taking a closer look.

At first he thought that white tortoises were crawling toward him along the path. Then he realized that he'd never seen animals like this before. They resembled enormous opaque amoebas or very young tree-slugs except that the slugs had no pseudopodia and were a little larger. There were a lot of them. They crawled along in single file, quite quickly, hurling forward their pseudopodia neatly and flowing on into them.

Soon they were quite near, white and shining; Kandid also sensed a sharp, unfamiliar smell and stepped from the path to the verge, drawing Nava after him. The slug-amoebas crawled on past them, one after the other, paying them no attention whatever. There turned out to be twelve of them in all. Nava kicked out at the twelfth and last, unable to restrain herself. The slug neatly tucked in its behind and went on in hope. Nava was delighted and wanted to rush forward and deliver another kick, but Kandid caught her dress.

"They're so funny," said Nava, "and they crawl along the path just like people walking ... where are they going, I wonder? Likely, Dummy, they're off to that nasty village, they're from there likely, and they're going back now knowing the Accession's happened there. They'll march around the water and head back. Where will they go, poor things? Find another village? ... Hey!" she shouted, "stop! your village has gone, there's only a lake there now!"

"Be quiet," said Kandid. "Let's go. They don't understand your language, don't waste your breath."

They went on. After the slugs the path seemed somewhat slippery. Met and parted, mused Kandid. Met and went our separate ways. And I was the one to step out of the way. I, not they. This circumstance suddenly seemed extremely important to him. They were small and defenseless, I'm big and strong, but I stepped off the path and let them through, and now I'm thinking about them, they've passed through and probably don't remember me at all. Because they're at home in the forest and there's plenty of strange sights in the forest. Just as in a house there are cockroaches, bedbugs, woodlice, the odd brainless butterfly, or a fly banging against the glass. Anyway they don't bang against the glass. Flies think they're flying somewhere when they fly into the glass. I think I'm walking somewhere, only because I'm moving my legs... Probably I look funny from the side and ... as it were ... pitiful ... piteable ... which is correct.

"There'll be a lake soon," said Nava. "Let's get on, I want to eat and drink. Maybe you can catch some fish for me."

They put on speed. The reed-thickets began. Well, that's fine, thought Kandid. I'm just like the fly. Am I like a man? He remembered Karl and remembered that Karl wasn't like Karl. Very possible, he thought calmly, very possibly I'm not the man who crashed his helicopter how many years ago. Only in that case why do I bang against the glass. After all, Karl, when that happened to him, didn't bang against the glass. It'll be strange when I get out to the biostation and they see me. A good thing I thought of that. I've got to think good and hard about that. Good thing there's still lots of time and I won't reach the biostation all that soon...

The path forked. One arm obviously led to the lake, the other turned off sharply to one side.

"We won't go that way," said Nava, "it leads up and I want a drink."

The path became narrower and narrower, and eventually turned into a rut and petered out in the undergrowth. Nava halted.

"You know. Dummy," she said, "let's not go to this lake. There's something I don't like about this lake, there's something not right about it. I don't even think it is a lake, there's a lot of something there apart from the water..."

"But there is water there?" asked Kandid. "You wanted a drink, I wouldn't mind either..."

"There is water," said Nava reluctantly, "but it's warm, bad water, unclean... You know what, Dummy, you stay here. You make too much noise when you walk, I can't hear a thing, you stay and wait for me, I'll call you. I'll call like a hopper. You know what a hopper sounds like? Well, I'll call like that. You stand here, or better still, sit down..."

She dived into the reeds and disappeared. Kandid then turned his attention to the deep, cushioned silence that reigned here. There were no insects droning, no sighings and suckings from the swamp, no cries of forest creatures, the damp hot air was still. This wasn't the dry silence of the nasty village; there it was quiet like behind a theater curtain at night. Here it was like being under water.

Kandid cautiously squatted on his haunches, pulled off some blades of grass. He pulled up a clump of grass, rubbed it between his fingers and unexpectedly realized that the earth here should be edible and began eating. The turf effectively combatted hunger and thirst, it was cool and salty to the taste. Cheese, thought Kandid, yes, cheese ... what was cheese? Swiss cheese, processed cheese, sweating cheese ... what was cheese? Nava noiselessly ducked out of the reeds. She squatted beside him and started eating, rapidly and neatly. Her eyes were round.

"It's a good thing we've eaten here," she said finally. "Do you want to see what sort of a lake it is? I want to see it again but on my own I'm scared. It's the lake Hopalong keeps talking about, only I thought he was making it up or he dreamed it, but it looks like it's true, if I'm not dreaming, that is..."

"Let's take a look," said Kandid. The lake was about fifty yards in. Kandid and Nava came down the boggy bank and parted the reeds. Above the water lay a thick layer of white mist. The water was warm, even hot, but clean and transparent. There was a smell of food. The mist slowly eddied in a regular rhythm and after a minute Kandid felt he was going dizzy. There was someone in the mist. People. Lots of people. They were all naked and were lying absolutely motionless on the water. The mist rhythmically rose and fell, now revealing, now concealing the yellowy, white bodies, faces lying back - the people weren't swimming, they lay on the water as if they might on a beach. Kandid retched. "Let's get out of here," he whispered and pulled Nava by the arm. They got out onto the shore and returned to the path.

"They're not drowned," said Nava, "Hopalong didn't understand, they were just bathing here then a hot spring started up suddenly and they all got boiled... That's really awful, Dummy," she said after a silence. "I don't even feel like talking about it... so many of them ... a whole village..." They had reached the place where the path forked. Here they halted. "Now up?" asked Nava.

"Yes," said Kandid, "now up."

They turned right and began to ascend a slope. "And they're all women," said Nava, "did you notice?"

"Yes," said Kandid.

"That's the most awful thing, that's what I just can't understand. Maybe ..." Nava looked at Kandid, "maybe the deadlings drive them here? Likely the deadlings drive them here - catch them around all the villages, drive them to this lake and boil them... Listen, Dummy, why did we leave the village? We'd have lived there and not seen any of this. Thought that Hopalong had dreamed it up, lived quietly, but no, you had to go to the City... Well, why did you have to go to the City?"

"I don't know," said Kandid.