Campfire 'Once Upon a Long, Long Time Ago, Our Parents and Grand- Parents Left a Place Called Earth. They Travelled Across the S

file:///F|/rah/Larry%20Niven/Niven,%20Larry%20-%20Dragons%20of%20Heorot.txt Campfire 'Once upon a long, long time ago, our parents and grandparents left a place called Earth. They travelled across the stars in a ship called Geographic to find paradise. But their paradise turned into a living hell.. .' The campfire jetted white flame as it reached a gum pocket in the horsemane log. The flame held for almost a minute, then died back to glowing coals. A cast-iron skillet balanced on firestones sizzled in the embers. A sudden gust momentarily sent sparks toward the misty night sky and the stars frozen overhead. A dozen wide-eyed youngsters were packed shoulder- tight on makeshift seats of logs and stones, huddled expectantly in the dying firelight. They had waited all their lives for this night. Justin Faulkner's voice growled, caressed, leapt, burned hotter than the ebbing flames. 'From the stars they came,' he stage-whispered, 'seeking to build homes where no human had ever walked. Avalon was a land untamed, stretching beneath a sky strange to human eyes. A paradise for the taking. These men and women were the best, the smartest and the bravest Earth could offer, two hundred chosen from eight billion people. Our parents. They are the Earth Born. But they didn't know the truth about their new world, a truth that you -' his long, sensitive fingers, sculptor's fingers, bunched and stabbed as if each and every child was guilty of unspeakable crimes - 'you Star Born, have never been told . until now. Until this week. Until tonight.' Justin's voice carried the authority and infinite wisdom of all his nineteen years. None of the children was older than thirteen. Now they were youngsters, Grendel Biters. Tonight would be their first step toward becoming Grendel Scouts. At dawn they had left the human settle- ment called Camelot and hiked across the plain, along the Miskatonic River, then up Mucking Great Mountain along the minor tributary called the Amazon. Lunch and dinner had been little more than stream water. Their curious and eager shining eyes were black and brown and blue and jade, carrying genetic gifts from every people of Earth. Their limber young bodies were as perfect as the night stars, their minds filled with dreams more incandescent still. These were the exhausted young inher- itors of a world new to Man. '... the rivers were filled with a fish they called samlon. And they caught the fish, and ate the fish . .' Justin slipped a knife from his belt sheath. He poked its point about in the smoking pan, skewering a morsel of sizzling meat. He held it up, worrying the ragged, black-burnt chunk of flesh with his teeth. Then he passed both pan and knife to his right, to a ten-year-old girl with blonde shoulder-length hair. She bit gingerly at first, then harder to tear a piece loose. The texture resembled tough beef, not at all like fish. She chewed - and the meat bit back. She clawed at her throat, gasping, but managed to pass both pan and knife to her right. A boy dark-skinned as the surrounding file:///F|/rah/Larry%20Niven/Niven,%20Larry%20-%20Dragons%20of%20Heorot.txt (1 of 347) [1/19/03 5:46:15 PM] file:///F|/rah/Larry%20Niven/Niven,%20Larry%20-%20Dragons%20of%20Heorot.txt night made a choking sound and whispered, 'Water . .' Their eyes misted. Some struggled with wretched coughs, but no one moved. The pan circled the campfire until there was nothing left but smoking iron. 'But one night the river which gave life to the colony brought death. Even now, even here, high up on Mucking Great, if the wind is very quiet, on a night like tonight, you can hear old Misk calling . .' Justin trailed off. With superbly theatrical timing, the wind dwindled to a murmur. There in the distance roared the mighty Miskatonic, rushing past the foot of Mucking Great... or was that only the Amazon? 'The samlon developed legs, and teeth, and a taste for human blood. They became . grendels. They clawed their way from the river, gasped air and found it good. They moved so fast that other animals looked like statues to them. They slaughtered everything they saw. Our parents fought back, but it was no use. The camp was lost. Cadmann Weyland led the survivors here to his strong- hold on Mucking Great, where they made their last stand. 'And there' - Justin's thin finger cast an unsteady shadow toward the irregular chunk of stone called Snailhead Rock - 'that was where my father died, torn to pieces by the ravening horde. And there on the verandah is where Phyllis McAndrews was killed, still screaming reports to the orbiting crew of Geographic. And there -' Justin was lost in the story now, beginning to hyperventi- late - 'others were caught, torn apart and devoured by frenzied grendels moving faster than eyes could see. Down there by the cliff edge ' - the dark hid it - 'two men waited in a wrecked skeeter while grendels battered the walls in with their heads. And there was where Joe Sikes sent a river of fire flowing down, finally killing the grendels, saving every human life-' Pause. The wind had picked up. When it lulled there remained no sound save the rushing waters. 'That was all a long, long time ago. But sometimes on a night like tonight, if you press your ear to the ground, you can still hear the screams of the dying, as teeth tear their flesh open and devour their vitals. And you can thank the spirits of the dead that there is no longer anything to fear. 'No more monsters, no more grendels . .' Justin paused for effect. 'But if there are spirits of men, who can say that there are not spirits of monsters as well?' His audience's young eyes were wide, and still. Their chests hardly moved as they struggled to keep control. The dogs were tethered well away from the campsite, and now, sensing the children's fear, they began to growl and strain at their leashes. 'Some say that the spirits of the dead war nightly, up here on Mucking Great Mountain. Our dead parents and grandparents pit rifle and spear and knife against fang and claw and speed, night after bloody night. They don't want to - but they must. Because if they lose, just once ... just once .. .' He narrowed his eyes fiercely. 'The grendels will claw through the portal which separates life from death, and return to ravage Avalon again. And not just Avalon. They'll go across the stars as we crossed between stars, file:///F|/rah/Larry%20Niven/Niven,%20Larry%20-%20Dragons%20of%20Heorot.txt (2 of 347) [1/19/03 5:46:15 PM] file:///F|/rah/Larry%20Niven/Niven,%20Larry%20-%20Dragons%20of%20Heorot.txt back to Earth . .' A light dew of sweat dampened his forehead. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. 'What was that? Was that a scream? It sounded almost like a scream, a human scream. The scream of a soul already dead, but dying yet again. A soul now cast into some deeper, more terrible pit. And is that another? And another-?' The boys and girls strove to still their breathing and quiet their heartbeats, attempting to capture every word. 'But if the ghosts of the humans are dying once again then-' There was a terrible shriek, and from beyond the ring of firelight lurched a woman soaked in blood. She stag- gered, one hand held piteously to her cheek. One eye was clotted with gore and the other was insanely wide, as if witness to all the terrors of hell. After her, in a blur, came something inhuman. Ten feet of hissing reptile bounded into the firelight; splay-clawed, barb-tailed, eyes dead to gentleness or love, merciless as glass. It smashed her to the ground, perched atop her and howled-! The children scrambled in all directions, screaming, crying-Then silence, save for the crackle of the fire. The girl's bloody body lay still upon the ground, grendel perched above, triumphant- And then she sat up, sputtering with mirth. 'Justin Faulkner, you are an utter bastard!' 'It's the company I keep, Jessie.' He grinned like a shark. 'All right, round 'em up!' The 'grendel' sat up and a stocky, muscular Japanese boy of about seventeen Earth years climbed out of its hollow belly. His face was darkened with charcoal and he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Jessica slapped him on the back. 'You should make some little tiny buildings and some miniature artillery and do a giant monster movie, Toshiro.' 'Godzilla versus a hundred-metre grendel?' He shrugged out of the grendel skin. 'You know, if we hadn't had to rebuild Tokyo every six months, Japan would have ruled all of Earth.' From all around them, just beyond the reach of the firelight, larger human figures returned, shepherding their younger siblings back to the firelight. 'Come on back!' they roared. 'Sissies!' Shy, embarrassed, the stragglers returned in ones and twos. They protested loudly but hid grins behind small hands, and wrung crocodile tears from laughing eyes. Tentatively, then with growing enthusiasm they exam- ined the hollow grendel carcase, its thick forelegs and wide jaws, its stubby spiked tail. They ran their small fingers along its scales, each imagining that it was his father, her grandmother, who slew the dragon. Justin took his place at the centre by the fire, and this time spoke in a normal voice.

Load more