Страница 38 из 72
The shock of the icy water was paralyzing, and Kendal's legs instantly knotted into agonizing cramps. Fortunately, the water was less than a meter deep, so keeping his head above the surface posed no major problem. Rubbing hard with hands already growing numb with the cold, he managed to work out the cramps and to get his clothes off, tossing them to the far side of the stream. Then, conscious of the speed at which his body heat was being sucked from him, he began to wash himself as quickly and thoroughly as possible. A few minutes was all he could stand; even as he waded ashore he was staggering with the begi
None of them made any move except to follow him with their eyes. Gingerly, Kendal reached out and laid his hand against the head of the closest animal. Two openings in its neck—its nostrils, Kendal had long ago decided—flared once, but otherwise it didn't seem to object to the familiarity. Kendal withdrew his hand, and after a moment the animals returned to their drinking.
So his hunch had been right. But Kendal had no time for self-congratulation. He turned and headed back toward his House, keeping his eyes open. He was nearly there when he found what he was looking for: a grazing tricorn whose sides were heaving with the breathlessness of a long run. Walking boldly up to it, Kendal carefully gripped one of the horns and tugged. The action had no effect; if the tricorn was winded and therefore not inclined to run away, neither was it going to interrupt its grazing. Kendal tried again, then gave up and went instead to several nearby clumps of vegetation, pulling up the plants until he had a good handful of them. Returning to the tricorn, he waited until the animal had finished eating and then waved one of the plants in front of it. The tricorn bit off a piece, and when Kendal slowly backed away it willingly followed him.
They reached the House with two or three of the plants left. Dropping them onto the ground for the tricorn, Kendal stepped to the open orifice. "I'm back," he said through chattering teeth. "As you see, I've brought you some food."
"I see, but do not understand," the House said, its emotion unreadable.
"Never mind that for now. I'm going to come in now and get my stuff. You'll be able then to lure the tricorn in. Okay?"
"Yes." A pause. "Can you do this again?"
"I'll make a deal with you. If you and the other Houses will let us live inside you safely until our ship comes, we'll guarantee you each at least one tricorn every three days; maybe more. What do you say?"
"I agree," the House said promptly.
—
"You promised them what?" Cardman Tan said, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you crazy, Kendal?"
Muffled to the eyebrows in his spare clothing and still just barely recovered from his overnight chilling, Kendal nevertheless managed to keep his temper. Tan was not dumb, but he'd clearly missed the significance of Kendal's account of his predawn activities. "Not crazy at all, Tan. With the proper precautions we can handle the tricorns."
"Look, I don't know how you lucked out last night, but you can't count on the tricorns always being in a good mood like that."
"Moods have nothing to do with it. It's the dust."
"Besides, we—what? What dust?"
"The rock dust from the mine. Remember the exploration group report on the tricorns?"
"Sure," Tan said bitterly. "Lousy rubber-stamping toadies—"
"Forget that. They were right. The tricorns aren't interested in us—they're attracted to the rock dust that sticks to our skin and clothes. Apparently they eat one or more of the minerals we dig up at the mine."
Tan opened his mouth, closed it again, and suddenly looked thoughtful. "That would explain why they hang around the mine all day and stomp through it at night. But why? And how come we've never caught them at it?"
"We have, or at least I have," Kendal pointed out. "I always assumed they were digging up small plants, myself. Anyway, most of their feeding's done at night, I think." He shrugged. "And why shouldn't they eat rock? We know the Houses have organo-mineral metabolisms—it only makes sense for the tricorns to be similar."
"Well... okay, suppose you're right. What then?"
"I thought you'd never ask. Here's my idea...."
—
It was a real pleasure, Kendal decided, to be able to head for home without that tense uncertainty as to what kind of reception he'd get. Now that it was being fed regularly, the House was consistently cooperative and—following the pattern of human societies through the ages—was begi
His first stop was the corral behind his House. Fenced in by wire mesh attached to pipes, the four tricorns looked back disinterestedly as they munched on the rock and plants left there for them. The fence couldn't keep them in at night, of course, but with a supply of food nearby they tended to stay put even during musth, and the one or two who had broken out in the last month had always returned by sunrise. Collecting food for them was a pain—as was supplying the mineral pile near the mine to lure away the tricorns there—but it beat guard duty hands-down. And in the long run, it was much cheaper.
Collecting his night things, Kendal stepped into the House. "Hi, House," he called.
"Good evening, Kendal. Did you have a profitable day?"
"Very. Will you be ready to start after I get my supper going?"
"Certainly."
We are, after all, what we eat, Kendal thought wryly—and if his theory was right, that was even more true of Houses. Their alien method of food absorption seemed to be gentler than its human equivalent, so much so that the Houses could evidently absorb intact the delicate and complex nucleic acids—or possibly even entire gray-matter nerve cells—of their prey. And as soon as enough had been absorbed.... Kendal wondered how many tricorns the House had had to eat before the unexpected light had dawned so long ago. Intact tricorns, that is—not ones whose brains had been fried by laser fire.
Accidental intelligence? Something inside Kendal rebelled at the idea... and yet, why not? And hardly useless, even if it had been sorely lacking in purpose until now.
Because there was one intriguing corollary to the theory. The Houses certainly had the necessary bulk to store great quantities of brain cells. If they were steadily fed, would their intelligence increase? And if so, was there any upper limit?
Kendal didn't know, and of course didn't have the necessary equipment or know-how to perform rigorous tests. But there were more informal ways... and he was determined to learn whatever he could in the time remaining.
The equipment was ready now. Looking up, Kendal nodded. "Okay, go ahead."
The reply was immediate; the House knew this part well. "Pawn to king four," it said.