Fall; or, Dodge in Hell - Neal Stephenson Page 0,292

in his short life had prepared him for the possibility that he might be wrong: “There is to be a new way of things in the Land. It comes to us from the Autochthons, who are sent out by El to remedy all that was wrongly done before.” And as if this were not sufficiently obvious he looked searchingly at Adam, Eve, and the others who had come down from Camp.

They listened in the expectation that this Acolyte might say more, but when nothing was forthcoming Walksfar said, “In what way does this concern me and others in Camp? We lived satisfactorily in First Town before El had even come into the Land, and likewise in Camp afterward. I would draw your attention to the fact that we have not asked El for any advice as to how we might improve ourselves.”

“Be that as it may,” said Acolyte, “the new town that is to be built on yonder hill will not be another like Eltown but will be ordered according to directions from Honey, who has them from the Palace of El.”

“It is high time that I went up to the kirk and talked to Honey,” said Walksfar. “Not to dispute the plans you speak of, for they are none of my concern, but to renew an old acquaintance and learn more of these doings. And while I am out of Camp I shall also go up onto the hill and learn how matters stand with that old tree. Strongback, I would cross the river one more time if there is room in your boat.”

“There isn’t,” said Strongback.

“There would be,” Walksfar demurred, “if you were to shift that coil of rope back a bit and move that keg of nails.”

“The management of my boat and its cargo is no concern of yours,” Strongback replied. “There is no room to carry you or any of your sort.”

Walksfar was taken aback, and Adam saw in his aura shock and confusion. “Well then,” he said, “perhaps on some other occasion.”

“Perhaps.” Strongback turned away and went down to his boat. His crew untied the lines that held it fast and rowed it out into the stream, headed not straight across to Eltown, but rather up in the direction of the new project.

Cairn was not well formed for speech, but he grumbled out a few sounds to the effect that none of this made the least difference to him, who could not get into any boat anyway without crashing directly through its hull planks and sinking it. He stomped down toward the water’s edge and kept stomping until he had disappeared, leaving on the surface a trail of bubbles, mud, and loose debris that was soon swept away by the current.

Accustomed as they were to Cairn and other such old and wild souls, Adam and Eve found this less remarkable than did the townspeople who watched it happen. Far from being delighted by it, however, those took it amiss and grumbled among themselves as to just how unnatural and wrong it seemed.

Another, newer boat was being loaded nearby, but its owner held up a hand as if to stop Walksfar from even looking at it. “We have all heard of what became of the boat of Feller,” he announced, throwing a dark look at Adam. Which made no sense at all; but in the faces of the people there seemed to be some kind of certainty that because Adam was somehow involved in the story of Feller’s boat, he should never be allowed near a boat again. “The Autochthons,” said Acolyte, “are as big and as strong as you, Adam, and their mounts stronger yet. You are not needed anymore and so it were better for you to stay in Camp and look after the twelve creatures you have spawned and see to it that they do not get up to any mischief.”

At this Adam and Eve were both full of wrath and had to be conducted away from the place by Walksfar and Beast.

Since it seemed they were no longer welcome on boats, the next day Adam and Walksfar struck out northward from Camp, walking parallel to the bank of the river toward a bluff on this, its western bank, whence according to Walksfar they would have a clear view directly across the stream to the hill of the great tree. Along the way they retraced some of the path that Adam had trod on the day that Feller’s boat had been destroyed. Adam