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“Possibly,” I said with deep suspicion. “And there is only one way to find out. It’s my turn to be guinea pig.”
I reached out gingerly and poked my finger into the juice. Brought it to my nose and sniffed.
“Yukk!” I said. “Even if it is edible it will come up even faster than it went down. Press on.”
I wiped my finger in the soil until it was filthy but cleansed of the juice, then started warily down the path again. It wound around the larger growths but always continued in the same direction. Uphill and away from the shore.
“Wait,” Angelina said. “Do you hear anything?”
I stopped and cocked an ear, then nodded. “A sort of booming sound, coming from up ahead.”
“Jungle drums. Perhaps the natives are restless.”
“We’ll soon find out.”
I tried to sound more cheerful than I felt. Stranded on an alien planet in an alien universe. No food to eat, unknown dangers to face. Most depressing. But at least I had Angelina again and that was incredibly cheering. I grabbed the mood swing as it went up and tried to hold onto the good feeling. I still walked slowly and silently with the knife probing out before me.
The booming was louder and the beat most irregular, slowing then quickening in an unpredictable ma
“Very suspicious,” Angelina said. “Whatever creature made this path it appears that it didn’t want to cross that clearing.”
“It might be shy—or nocturnal or something like that.”
“There also might be something in the clearing that it didn’t want to get near. And that’s where the sound is coming from.”
We stopped behind the big, bulging growth that appeared to be covered with thick green hair; then cautiously looked out.
“Wow!” Angelina gasped.
Wow indeed. In the very center of the clearing was a single grayish, lumpy thing like a great pile of slumped mud. A long growth emerged from its summit and hung down almost to the ground. Growing on this, like fruit on a branch, were glistening red spheres.
“Fruit maybe,” I said. “Possibly edible.”
“Possibly dangerous,” she said. “I don’t like the way that thing is out there alone—and the way the path circles around it.”
I did not like it either. “Two choices then. We follow the path and stay away from the thing. Or we get closer and find out more about it.”
“Knowing you, Jim diGriz, your mind is already made up. But I’m going with you.”
“A deal—as long as you stay behind me.”
When we stepped into the clearing the drumming sound stopped. It knew we were there. In a moment the sound started again, faster and not as loud as before. This continued as I walked slowly in its direction. Stopped and looked at it closely and shook my head. Indeed, I thought, it sure is ugly. —
A wet orifice opened in the center of the bloated form and a deep and rasping voice spoke. “It… sure is ugly,” it said.
Chapter 12
“It can talk!” Angelina said, “Not only talk—but it can read minds too. That is just what I was thinking before it spoke.”
“I wonder if it can read my mind too?” the thing said hoarsely.
Angelina stepped back. “That is what I was thinking. I don’t like this thing, not at all. Let’s get Out of here.”
“In a moment. I would still like to find out what those globes are.”
I did find out—far faster than I really wanted to. With incredible speed the branch—like growth whipped towards me. Before I could jump back it wrapped around my neck and pulled me forward.
“Grrkk…”, was all I could say as I sawed at the thing with the glass knife. Yellow ichor dripped from the wound; the thing was incredibly tough to cut and I was still being pulled forward.
“Hack it off!” Angelina shouted, seizing me around the waist and pulling back as hard as she could. It helped a bit, but I was still being pulled towards the opening that had emitted the voice.
It had stopped speaking now as the opening gaped wider and wider, moist and filled with sharp, dark edges.
I sawed and choked. I couldn’t see very well. I kept on sawing.
The opening was just in front of my face when I cut the last fibrous strand and fell backwards.
I was vaguely aware of Angelina dragging me along the ground away from the thing which was now booming Out loudly and hoarsely.
“I wonder if… it sure… read my ugly…”
I sat up and rubbed my sore throat. “That was …too close.”
“How do you feel?”
“Bruised—but all right.” I looked down and realized that the knife and my right hand were covered with the thick and sticky liquid. And I was still clutching the severed end of the stalk, with a red globe attached to it, in my other hand.
“Let’s go back to the ocean,” I said, as hoarsely as our opponent who was still talking, feeding back a mixture of our thoughts to us. “I want to wash off this gunk—and see what this red thing is.”
“I’ll carry it,” Angelina said. “Move—before this monster pulls itself out of the ground and comes after us.”
She meant it as a jest, but I did walk that much faster. Back to the shore where I scrubbed and cleaned off the congealing liquid. Angelina was beside me dunking the globe into the water.
“Let me have the knife,” she said. “It’s my turn to try the local cuisine.”
“The knife is getting soft.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Before I could stop her she had sliced the thing open to reveal wet and even redder tissue inside. It looked uncomfortably like flesh. She cut off a sliver and sniffed it.
“Doesn’t smell too bad.”
“Don’t!” I said, but I was too late. She had popped it into her mouth, chewed quickly—and swallowed it.
“Not too bad,” she said. “Tastes sort of like a cross between seafood and candy.”
“You shouldn’t have done that…”
“Why not? Someone had to. And as I said—it was my turn to do the testing. And I still feel fine.”
“Well, at least we know why the path went around the clearing, Ouch!” I had touched my sore neck. “We stay on the path from now on. You were right about that. That thing, it’s like an angler fish.”
“A what?”
“A fish that lives at pelagic depths in the ocean. It has sort of a fishing—pole organ growing out of the top of its head that dangles in front of its mouth—hence the name. It has a lump at the end that glows in the dark and attracts other fish. They snap at it—and get eaten.”
“But why the mind—reading stunt?”
I sighed and shrugged. “Anyone’s guess. It must work well on the local life forms—what are you doing?”
She had cut off another piece of the red globe and was chewing on it.
“Eating, of course. I still feel fine, and I am more than a little hungry.”
I watched the shadows move and tried to estimate how much time had elapsed: Angelina looked at my face, then reached out and patted my hand.
“Poor Jim. You look so worried. I’m fine, but still hungry.”
“Let me try some before you eat any more of it. Maybe it is a sex—specific poison.”
“What a charming thought,” she said and scowled fiercely.
“Sorry, shouldn’t say things like that. This place must be getting me down.” I cut, chewed and swallowed. “Not bad. But after we finish this fruit I’m not going back for a second try at that thing.”
“Agreed. And you have noticed that it is getting dark again?”
“I have. I suggest we doze here until dawn and then press on along the path. Second the motion?”
“Absolutely.”
When the sun woke us we were alive and well and hungry. We divided up the fruit and ate it all. Washed off the juice, yawned and stretched and looked at the path.