Tortoise Reform Page 3
Owl followed the moving box, and soon it approached another box going the opposite direction. They raced right toward each other, like two goats about to butt heads, but they passed each other by the barest of margins. What a curious process!
Owl watched the moving boxes for some time, and saw that they weren't really trying to butt heads; each stayed on one side of the road, and there was just room for them to pass. But the whole thing remained curious, because they weren't alive. They were metallic objects zooming along. He had realized that this realm was unfamiliar, before, but thought it was just geography; now he knew that it was far odder than that. Maybe the human girl would know what these things were, and what business they were going about. Did they have to travel to metallic pastures to graze?
He swooped low to study the situation more closely. He passed a tree, and saw several birds on the ground near it. They were of sapient size, chickens, so he paused to hail them.
But the moment they saw him, the chickens fled, squawking. “I'm not hunting you,” he thought to them. “I merely wish to exchange news.” Because as a rule sapients did not hunt sapients. It was bad form, for one thing, and it could be dangerous. Chickens were not the smartest of birds, but they did know the conventions.
But the chickens would not exchange thoughts. No, it was worse; he discovered that they had no sapient thoughts. Their minds were dull. So it was true: animals in this realm were stupid. Gopher had said they were, but Owl had not experienced it for himself. What a tragedy!
He ascended, leaving the dull chickens below. He saw other birds, but they were small ones, below the threshold of sapience anyway. Suddenly he was feeling lonely. How awful it would be to live in a realm where all the other animals were dull!
Then Owl spied something in the distant air, flying extremely high. It was a big bird, a huge bird—no, it was too big to be any bird. It was another metallic thing, this time traveling in the sky. That was daunting, because Owl had thought himself safe from pursuit by the boxes. But if some of them could fly, nowhere was safe.
He felt a faint signal of alarm. For a moment he thought it was his own. Then he recognized the trace: it was Gopher. Gopher was in trouble. They were separated too far for him to read any more than that, but he knew he had to get back immediately. He looped around.
But that big flying box was there. He did not want to approach it, lest it try to crash into him. He tried to fly around it, but the thing was coming toward him at what turned out to be impossible speed. Now it was making a noise, like that of ten bears growling together, only less personal.
Owl dived for the nearest tree below. He caught a branch and tried to hide amidst the foliage as the flying box loomed loudly close. Then it was going away. He had escaped it.
He lurched back into the air and looked after the box. It was already far away, and now he saw that it was still well high in the sky, descending slowly. There had really been no danger of collision.
Feeling shaken and somewhat foolish, he flew back toward the sink hole and Gopher. The tortoise was still emanating alarm, and was hiding inside his shell. But he did not seem to be physically hurting. What had happened?
It took a while to get back, for owl had flown farther than he realized while watching the boxes on the road. When he came to land at the rim of the sink hole, Gopher wasn't there. His traces were there—his smell and his tracks—but not his body. His mind was some distance away, farther than he could have walked in the time he had been alone. Where had he gone, and how?
Alarmed anew, Owl took to the air and flew around the sink hole, searching. But Gopher simply was not there, as his mental trace indicated.
Then Owl saw the human girl running from the house. He was relieved to see her. She was not his preference for company, but she might have some notion what had happened and what to do about it. He flew toward her.
"Hi, Owl!” she called as she saw him. She lifted her hand. “Come land on me, if you want to."
Owl, confused, did something he had had no intention of doing: he dropped down and landed on her shoulder. He took hold, not hard, for his claws were strong and sharp, and human flesh was notoriously fragile. “Gopher is gone!” he thought.
"I heard you!” she said, thrilled. He felt her good feeling, and that made him feel good too, somewhat against his will. Mind contact conveyed more than just direct thoughts; it framed them with background information and emotion. Because he was in actual physical contact with her, communication was good despite her poorly developed mind ability. At a reasonable distance he would receive only her specific thoughts, and beyond that very little, because he hardly knew her. The better the acquaintance, the farther the mind contact, as a general rule.
But this was not a time for good feeling. “Gopher is gone,” he repeated. “He is frightened."
Now her emotion changed to dismay. “Oh, I was so glad to hear you I didn't pick up on what you said. I only really talked to Gopher before. You were sort of, well, aloof. Why did Gopher go? I said I would come back, and I did."
"It was not voluntary,” Owl clarified. “Something happened to him."
"Oh, no! What did it?"
"I was not present. I felt his alarm, but was too far away to get his full thought. I returned, but he was gone."
They reached the rim of the sink hole. “You're right. He's not here. He was grazing right in this patch, and—uh-oh.” Her thought turned dark.
"What is it?"
"There's footprints here. See, right in the dirt. Some man must have picked him up and taken him away."
"A human male? Maybe Gopher directed him to do it.” But Owl did not believe that.
"I think I know,” Rowan said. “Uncle was talking about it just at lunch. He says there's some huge development going to be made here. They're going to fill in the sink hole and bulldoze out the trees and build it. He says by this time next year we won't even recognize the place. But the first thing they have to do is move out the tortoises, ‘cause they're a protected species, something like that. So they must be collecting them and taking them to some other place, and that's what's happened to Gopher."
"But Gopher is not of this realm,” Owl protested. He hardly understood the business about something huge being made, but Gopher's absence was all too clear.
"They don't know that. They must think he's a regular tortoise. They don't know he's telepathic. They must have him in a pen somewhere, ready to ship off to the new location."
Obviously she knew far more about this matter than Owl did. “What can we do?"
"We can rescue him, that's what,” she said. “If we can find him."
"I have his mental trace. I can find him. But I can not remove him from a pen.” For her mental picture was of a metallic enclosure without an exit.
"We'll do it together,” she said. “You find him, I'll rescue him.” She paused. “But maybe not by day. If they see me, they'll stop me. I'll have to sneak out at night and do it. Can you find him in the dark?"
"I am an owl,” Owl reminded her stiffly.
"Oh, sure, yes, of course. I forgot. So can you wait until evening?"
"Perhaps I should return to the burrow and inform the others. Then I can come back here."
"Okay. Let's meet right here. I'll bring a flashlight.” Then she sent a pang of nervousness. “But please do come back, because I'll have no idea where to go otherwise."
"I would not desert a burrow mate. That is never done."
She tilted her head in a nod. Gopher was right: she had peculiar yet somehow engaging mannerisms, for a human. “It sounds nice, in your burrow."
"Nice is hardly the applicable term. We are an essential group. We derive our strength from that unity, becoming much more than we would ever be alone."
"Different creatures? That seems odd—but still nice."
"That is the custom. A normal burrow has six sapients selected from creatures of appropriate size. The tortoise is the landlord, because he makes the burrow. The others contribute the
ir special skills to it, making the whole."
"Who is there, besides you and Gopher? I mean, their names."
"Indigo Snake, Peba Armadillo, and Cottontail Rabbit. Now I must fly there and inform them."
"Of course,” she agreed wistfully. “I wish I could see your burrow sometime."
That was obviously impossible, so Owl did not respond. He spread his wings and departed her shoulder.
"Bye!” she thought after him. Then he was beyond her range and on his own.
He dived into the sink hole and zoomed into the cave. He found the hole and scrambled into the tunnel Gopher had made. Soon he would be there in the burrow proper.
What a story he had to tell them!
Chapter 3
Rescue
Rowan's feelings were severely mixed as she walked slowly back toward the house. She was exhilarated to have met such interesting and personal creatures: a telepathic tortoise and owl. But she was horrified that Gopher had been kidnapped, or tortoise-napped. All because of that stupid development they were planning.
Then she thought of something else. They were going to fill in the sink hole! That meant that the cave that led to the other world would be covered over, and the smart animals would no longer be able to visit her. Then her life would sink right back into the dull lonely awfulness it had been two days ago. She wouldn't be able to bear it. It was bad enough with the problem back home, so that she had been cast out into this emotional wilderness. Now she was going to be denied her only real friends here.
For they were indeed friends. She knew that because she had exchanged minds with them, a little. She wasn't good at it, but she was learning. She couldn't do distance yet, but when one of them was close to her head she knew that creature better than she could know any human person. That was the way it was, with telepathy, because it included pictures and feelings as well as words. A person couldn't lie; the truth was always there. So she had trusted Gopher and he had trusted her, from the outset. Gopher was real nice, and Owl was crusty but okay after a bit. He just had this thing about not liking strangers. He had been turned off because she thought he was cute. She still thought so, but would try to bury that so as not to aggravate him. Regardless, the sheer novelty and wonder of sharing minds was so great, she just had to have more of it. She knew she'd like the other animals in their burrow, if only she could meet them. Because of their minds. Telepathy was like coming home.
But she had a big problem to work out. In a moment she knew that she faced two challenges, not one. First she had to rescue Gopher Tortoise from the abductors. Second, she had to stop that development. She had no idea how, but she knew it had to be done. Her happiness depended on it.
First things first. She should organize for the night's mission. She would lay out dark clothing and make sure her flashlight had a fresh battery. Then she would get some rest, because she was going to lose sleep in the night.
That was another problem. She didn't like deceiving Aunt and Uncle. She knew they were nice enough people. It wasn't their fault that her folks were having problems and had to farm her out for a while. In fact they were being pretty decent about boarding her. But they did not understand children, having had none of their own. Sometimes they acted as if she were a little adult, and sometimes as if she were two years old. They hadn't found the range for age ten. So they expected her to do her own chores, like laundry, which was adult, and to be in bed and asleep by nine PM, which was child. And they had no understanding at all of her need to interact with her friends.
That last was the worst. She had a slender slew of fine friends in fifth grade, and some vile villainous enemies, and had had every intention of keeping in touch with them all over the summer. Summer was a great time to do things, good and bad. The bad things could be almost as much fun as the good ones. She was good at being bad, when she tried. It was maybe her last real chance to be a tomboy before she had to start orienting on (ugh!) young lady hood.
Then, suddenly, she had been uprooted and sent here to another state where she knew nobody. But she was expected to be adult about it, knowing it was her folks’ only real choice. While she really felt childish about it, hating the dreadful boredom and loneliness of life without friends. She couldn't phone, because Uncle didn't like the expense. No email either, because he didn't have a computer. She was really isolated. She didn't even have her favorite books along, because no one knew how long this exile was going to be. It depended on things vastly beyond her control.
Overwhelmed by it all, she had fled the house and flung herself down near the sink hole to cry her heart out, or at least as much of it as could be dissolved in tears. And met an alien tortoise. She knew he was alien, because who ever heard of one of those creatures living underground? Also, because he was telepathic. She had heard of that, but never believed it. Aliens from other planets were often telepathic, but that was just in the movies. Yet it was so, and he was really smart for a tortoise, and she liked him. So she accepted Gopher as he was, because she really needed a friend and he was what offered.
She had thought he was bluffing about having animal friends like himself. But he had brought Owl, the cutest little owl she had ever imagined, and he was smart and telepathic too. Actually they sort of had to be telepathic, because neither a snout nor a beak was suitable for talking the way human folk did. Owl was sort of reserved, almost prickly, but she liked him anyway. So now she had two friends, and she wasn't going to let them down.
She reached the house and went inside. Uncle was off at his job, and Aunt was out shopping, so she was alone—and for once she was glad of it. She went to the garage and found a flashlight. Its beam was bright, so she knew the battery was okay. She considered, then took a medium screwdriver too. If Gopher was locked in a cage, she would need to get it open. In fact maybe she should take wire cutters too, just in case.
She went to her room, which was a converted storage chamber. They weren't being mean, it was just what they had, and it was okay. She dug out her darkest jeans and shirt. And what about mosquitoes? They could be bad at night. So she went back to the garage and found a little bottle of ancient old army-surplus bug repellant. It smelled awful, and that made her smile: that was what any mosquito who tried to bite her would get a mouthful of. Served it right.
Finally she set up her heaviest dark socks, to protect her feet from both sight and scratching. And an old work cap. She hid the whole outfit under the bed. It wasn't that she didn't have a right to use it, but that she didn't want anyone to catch on to her mission. If she tried to tell them about telepathic animal friends they would think she had gone crazy. Well, if she had, she wanted to stay that way, because now the loneliness was gone.
She lay on the bunk and closed her eyes, but realized right away that she couldn't sleep. She was too excited by the challenge before her, and anyway, she hardly ever slept in the daytime. So she closed her eyes and thought about Problem Number Two: the big construction project. What was she going to do about that? She couldn't just march up to the nearest bulldozer and tell them to leave the sink hole alone because it was an avenue to telepathic animals. They would dismiss her as an imaginative child, which she was. Yet it would be worse if they believed her, and went after the smart animals. She had few illusions about what who happen to a telepathic tortoise: he would be sent to a laboratory for study, and never have his freedom again. Same for a smart owl. At best they would be put on display in some public cage for tourists to gawk at. No, she would never tell that secret!
So how was she going to do it? Because she knew it was up to her. No one else knew about the smart animals or the route to their realm. But if she couldn't tell anyone the truth, how could she do anything? That was one enormous challenge.
* * * *
She woke as she heard Aunt's car return. She had fallen asleep after all! That was just as well, because it set her up better for the night's activity. Now if she could successfully play the innocent child so that no one suspected...
* * * *
Rowan dutifully went to her room and was safely in bed exactly at nine PM with the light out. Aunt normally didn't think to check on her, but just in case, she set pillows under the sheet to make a person-sized hump in the bed. She put on her dark outfit in the darkness, trusting that everything was in its proper place. Then she carefully lifted the screen out of the open window, climbed over the sill, stood outside, and set the screen back in. Thank goodness houses in this region were all on one floor!
Her heart was beating like mad. Part of her mind couldn't believe she was doing this. Another part knew she had to. She wasn't a criminal, she just had an important job to do. She stood for a minute, getting used to it, letting her heartbeat subside. She couldn't afford to freak herself out.
She didn't dare use her flashlight near the house, lest someone see the light, so she walked slowly and carefully across the yard until her feet found the brushy fringe. Actually she could see some, as there was a bit of moonlight, so she kept on going as she was. She had to get to the sink hole to meet Owl.
Then she thought of something. Owl was fully telepathic, and could read her thoughts, and could pick up on a friend from a distance. So she tried to project her thought. She could not truly send on her own, but maybe she could make her mind a little brighter so he could spot it. “Owl!” she called with her mouth carefully shut.
"Coming."
She had an answer! It had worked! She was thrilled again. It was so great to have it work.
"I was close by anyway, waiting for you,” Owl thought grumpily as he landed on her shoulder.
Oh. Still, maybe in time she would learn how to do it at a distance. It was a weird business, using her mind like this. She had never even tried it before.
"I agree,” Owl thought. “In our realm, no human can project thought. It is remarkable that you are able to do it even crudely."