Hunters Run Page 0,32

of its throat, and then he struck -

Abruptly, he was sprawled on his back on the ground, staring up into the violet sky. His stomach muscles were knotted, and he was breathing in harsh little gasps. The pain had hit him like a stone giant's fist, crumpled him and thrown him aside. It had been over in an eyeblink, too quick to be remembered, but his body still ached and twitched with the shock. He had dropped the knife.

You fool, he thought.

"Interesting," Maneck said. "Why did you do that? I pose you no danger, and so you need not defend yourself. I am not food for you, and so you need not kill me to eat. You have not declared war upon me. I have not gone to a bar, nor do I have money. I have not fucked your wife. And still you experience a drive to kill. What is the nature of that drive?"

Ramon would have laughed if he could; it was comic and tragic and deserving of his despairing rage. He levered himself up to sitting. Blood was smeared on his hands and chest from writhing on the corpse of the gordita.

"You ..." Ramon began. "You knew ."

Maneck's quills rose and fell. The evil, implacable orange of its eyes seemed to glow in the soft light that filtered through the forest canopy.

"The sahael participates in your flow," it said. "It will not permit actions on your part that would interfere with your tatecreude. You cannot harm me in any fashion."

"You can read my mind, then."

"The sahael can prevent action that is aubre before the action takes place. I do not understand 'read my mind.'"

"You know what I am thinking! You know what I'm going to do before I do it."

"No. To drink from first intentions would disturb the flow and affect your function. It is only when your intention expresses aubre that you are corrected."

Ramon wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"So you can't tell what I'm thinking, but you can tell what I'm going to do?"

Maneck considered him in silence, and then said, "Every movement is a cascade from intent to action. The sahael drinks from far up the cascade. The intention to act precedes the action, so you cannot act before I am aware of the action you are taking. Attempts to harm me cannot be completed, and will be punished. You are a primitive being not to know this." It tilted its head to stare more closely at him. "Please return to the issue at hand. What is the nature of that drive? Why do you wish to kill me?"

"Because a man is supposed to be free," Ramon said, pushing ineffectually at the thick, fleshy leash at his throat. "You're holding me prisoner!"

The alien shifted its head from one side to the other, as if the words meant nothing to it and were literally falling from its ears. Maneck lifted him easily and set him on his feet. To Ramon's shame and humiliation, the alien gently placed the wire knife back in his hand.

"Continue the function," Maneck said. "You were flaying the corpse of the small animal."

Ramon turned the silver cylinder slowly, shaking his head. He was unmanned. He could no more defeat this thing than an infant child could best his father. He was so little threat to it that it would hand him a weapon with total unconcern. He felt the urge to drive the knife into his own chest and end this humiliation, but he pushed the thoughts away before the sahael could exact its punishment.

He sharpened another small stick, using the alien knife, impaled the small bodies upon it, and held the raw meat over the flame. In the beginning, he kept the gordita and the grasshoppers far enough back that the cooking went slowly, but as the scent of grease and cooked meat woke his own belly, he let the branch dip.

The thin, stringy meat tasted better than Ramon had remembered - it was salty and had a rich, earthy taste. When he had stripped the small corpses to their thin, yellow bones, he wiped his hands on his robe and stood up.

"Let's go. I have to find fresh water."

"The seared flesh is not sufficient?"

Ramon spat.

"I can live for weeks without food," he said. "No water, and I'll die in days."

It rose and let Ramon lead the way through the forest to a cold rushing stream, foaming white as it broke over streambed rocks. This far

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