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really gross, spewed from the wound. The thing screeched, then rolled
over, which dislodged two of its riders. As it shot headlong into the trees, a
great rallying cry rose from the throats of the Kamamakamans, who had
witnessed my act. They turned to face the attack with renewed hope.
Okay, what the hell, let's go for it. I faced the two gremlins, who had
shaken off the effects of their fall and were coming at me with these dinky
knives. Sidestepping the first, I carved him in two. Wistilla appeared with
a mace, which she brought down on the head of the other, flattening him
to the thickness of second base.
But this wasn't easy, like in the novels. There were dozens of the
bat-birds, and hundreds of the white buggers, inundating the village. The
turbulence caused by the hovering creatures' wings made standing up and
fighting difficult. And the toothpicks those gremlins carried, damn, they
hurt! A dozen of them managed to overpower one Kamamakaman, and
what they did to him with their teeth& Jeeez!
I was swinging the sword at three of the devils when another fell out of
the sky and landed on my shoulders. It was a bitch trying to reach around
and get him off. I expected to feel his teeth in my neck, but the bastard
had something else in mind. He grabbed the Bukko in his gnarly hand and
yanked on it, which snapped the thin chain. Holding his prize, he leaped
to the ground and scampered off.
"Oh, shit, no!" I exclaimed, and tried to chase him, but the others were
persistent. Half watching, I saw him leap atop one of the bat-birds, which
rose up and became lost in the swirl of the others.
There was a barely audible noise, like one of those old, cheap dog
whistles. The gremlins immediately stopped what they were doing and
leaped atop the nearest bat-bird, all of which flew high above the village,
then sped away beyond the trees.
The Kamamakamans soundlessly tallied their casualties. Two were
dead, many more injured. If it was any consolation, the remains of over
forty little buggers and three bat-birds were fouling up the village.
A subdued Kimbal came over and put a hand on my shoulder (which by
the way was bleeding, among plenty of other places on my body). "God or
not, Jack, you fought well," he said.
"Yeah, big deal," I replied. "What was it all about? Why did they
come?"
"Same reason as always. Atoris the Evil prizes the women of the Selwok
Valley."
"Women? I didn't see& Did they take any?"
He shrugged. "Four, including my Chatana."
"Jeez, pal, I'm really sorry. So I guess you'll be going with me to get her
back, right? I'll do all I can to help."
Kimbal was puzzled. "Why would you pursue them?"
I pointed at my bare neck. "Because they stole my Bukko."
"This& Bukko, it is very valuable?"
"It is to me."
"Jack, you don't understand. No one pursues the minions of Atoris.
This is the way it has always been, and the way "
"Oh, that's bullshit and you know it!" I said peevishly.
"Bullshit again; what does it mean?"
"Never mind. Do you love Chatana?"
"Yes, I do." The defeat suddenly left his face, and he looked grim and
determined, as before. "You're right! They did bullshit by taking my
Chatana. That is wrong! I will not let them do bullshit again!"
"Good attitude& but knock off the bullshit. Where did they take her?"
His voice fell again. "To the terrible land of Areelkrokka, where else?"
"How far is that?"
"Its borders are five mahooganistos from here, but its main city is at
least another mahooganisto farther than that."
The UT5 must have had a hell of a time with& that word, because I felt
this prickling in my neck each time he said it. Six mahooganistos.
Actually, six of anything didn't sound like much of a big deal, but I had to
understand it better.
"Come on, follow me."
I led him back through the weird grove, until we could again see across
the Selwok Valley. One range of mountains was, by my guess, fifty to sixty
miles away. I pointed at them.
"Okay, how far?" I asked.
"Those? Oh, a little less than one mahooganisto," he answered.
One mahooganisto.
The main city of the terrible land of Areelkrokka where the Bukko was
headed was six mahooganistos away.
Are you getting a clear picture that I had a problem here?
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Wild Ride
Scenario: Study Group observing Jack Miller as he contemplates the
loss of the Bukko.
Study Group Old Guy #1: "He appears agitated over what happened."
Study Group Old Guy #2: "I should think so. Was he not told how
valuable the Bukko is to you?"
My Old Guy: "Of course, but he can't be blamed. It was taken from him
in the heat of battle."
Study Group Old Guy #1: "The Bukko is far from him. Shall we look
ahead and see what he ultimately does?"
My Old Guy: "No, let's not. Part of this exercise was for us to better
understand the meaning of patience. Besides, is not our diversion in
anticipating his next actions?"
Study Group Old Guy #2: "I know what his next action will be. He'll get
his bicycle and return to the mhuva lun gallee, looking for his own gate."
(Inserts finger in ear.) "His people would call him a chicken-shit."
All right, think this out carefully, Miller. Did I really need the Bukko? I
mean, it's supposed to save my ass, right? But I would have to travel over
three hundred miles and probably risk my ass a bunch of times just to get
it back, and something about that didn't make a whole lot of sense. In
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