“But this ESP stuff,” Heleth said suddenly. “It’s spooky. I mean—can you read minds? Our minds?”

  Samella shook her head wearily. “Of course not. I’d have to have some conscious control of it. GUIDE’S theory just says I’m a bit receptive. I pick up things now and then, without intending to. Especially the trees’ pain and fear, because it’s so powerful.” She shuddered slightly.

  “But just the trees?” Heleth persisted.

  “I don’t know.. .” Samella frowned thoughtfully. “When I was a kid, sometimes I seemed to know what some people were going to say or do before it happened. And then the dreams…. In the casket, I had weird dreams of places and people I’d never seen. Limbo, the Bunkers, even the Highlands…And when all of you have talked about where you come from, it was just like I dreamed—every detail. So somehow I must have been picking up your dreams!”

  The others looked at each other uneasily. “So you can pick up stuff from our heads,” Rontal growled.

  “Maybe, sometimes,” Samella said unhappily. “But I can’t help it—and I don’t want to.” She brightened slightly. “But I haven’t picked up any-thing from you since we got here, not even dreams. So maybe it had something to do with the suspended animation, when your dreams were stronger, and I was more receptive.’’

  The others looked a little relieved at that, and Heleth nodded. “That makes sense. ..”

  “Anyway, what’s it matter?’’ Jeko cut in abruptly. “So you got this ESP thing. Fine. Doesn’t do any-body any harm—’cept you. ’Cause the trees are gonna come knockin’ at your head every time you go out.’’ His mouth twisted bitterly. “ ’Cept you cant go out, and us neither. The aliens’re gonna keep us penned in here till we starve to death.”

  “No,” Cord said flatly. “We’ll move.”

  The others looked at him, startled.

  “It’s all we can do,” Cord went on. “Get om> selves away from the aliens, and the Lamprey, and the trees. Find ourselves another part of the planet to live in.”

  “And maybe find somethin’ worse than we got here,” Jeko said glumly.

  “Or something better,” Cord told him. “We won’t know till we try.”

  “The aliens’re gonna jump us,” Rontal pointed out, “soon as we step outa here.”

  Cord shrugged. “Maybe. But we’ve got weapons now, and they’re afraid of the laserifle. We’ll just have to fight our way out. One way or another, we have to leave.”

  The two Streeters grinned, not at all troubled by the prospect of battle. But Heleth sighed heavily, and wandered away to stare glumly out of the airlock. “Seems there should be something.. .” she began.

  But then she stiffened, staring more tensely out at the night. And there was a strange excitement in her voice.

  “Hey,” she said. “Come and look!”

  The others crowded up beside her, and peered out. They saw little in the darkness—only the vague shapes of the trees beyond the clearing, where the faint starlight outlined the rise of the leaf-branches. So they looked questioningly at Heleth, waiting to be told what her uncanny night vision had seen in the blackness.

  And they saw that she was grinning delightedly.

  “The aliens,” she told them. “They’re gone!”

  It was difficult for Cord to restrain himself, and the others, from rushing out into the night and making sure. But though Heleth assured them that she could see no sign of the ominously watchful humanoid forms, they all realized that the forest beings might simply have withdrawn a short distance, just far enough to be out of range even of Heleth’s cat-eyes.

  “They could have gone away, though,” Samella said hopefully. “After the fight with the worm. Maybe they don’t see us as enemies any more.”

  “Or maybe they got business somewhere else,” Jeko said with a laugh. “Like chasin’ the Lamprey— if we’re lucky.”

  “We’ll find out in the morning,” Cord said. “And if they have gone, it’ll give us the chance to go. So we have to be ready to move.”

  Those words spurred the group into activity.

  They gathered up everything that they had salvaged from the wreck—the remaining food and water, the medikit and tools, the spare parts for the laserifle, anything that might be useful. Then they busied themselves with strips of the tough cloth from the caskets, making containers for their possessions, to be slung over their shoulders like crude backpacks.

  “And we have to take GUIDE,” Samella said suddenly.

  “Could slow us down,” Cord said, frowning. Samella smiled. “We won’t take the console— and GUIDE himself is quite small. He’ll fit in one of those.” She gestured at the makeshift backpacks. “And he has his own power source, solar batteries that recharge from sunlight. I’ll carry him myself, if you like.”

  “C’mon, muscles,” Jeko said to Cord with a grin, “carry the lady’s bag for her.”

  “All right,” Cord said, laughing along with the others. “I suppose we can handle GUIDE, since we don’t have that much to carry. Just as long as everything is ready by first light.”

  Jeko groaned. “So early? Seems nobody’s gonna get any sleep around here.”

  But in fact they did all get some sleep that night, once all their supplies had been packed away, and after Samella had carefully removed GUIDE from the console and placed him, with his batteries, in one of the backpacks. And even Jeko rose eagerly, when the first misty grey of dawn showed itself in the clearing outside, and went out with the others to see whether the siege really had been lifted, whether the forest beings were really no longer waiting and watching among the trees.

  And in less than an hour they found that Heleth had been right. They moved warily more than half a kilometre in among the trees, and then turned to make a complete circle all around the clearing. And they saw nothing except the trees, and the misty, shadowy, empty spaces between them.

  “Wonder where they’ve got to?” Rontal said.

  “We’ll probably never know,” Cord said. “But at least we’ve got our chance to start moving.”

  “All right,” Samella said cheerily. “Let’s pick up our things, and go find a way out of the woods.”

  13 Heart of the Forest

  “One direction is as good as another,” Cord said, “when you don’t know where you’re starting from.” They were standing at one end of the clearing, looking out along the sweep of the open corridor that had been slashed through the forest by the shuttle’s sliding crash. Cord had decided to start out along the corridor, because at least it offered them some safety, in its openness, from an ambush that might possibly await them in the shadowed forest.

  So, after glancing back once more at the silent, crumpled wreck of the shuttle, they had set out— cheerful and determined—to take their first steps in the exploration of their new world.

  But shortly, as they moved forward along the broad open path, the orange sun rose, bright and warm. And Heleth began to blink and grumble, which made Rontal nudge Jeko.

  “We’re gonna have to find a place with a nice dark cave for this Bunkers gal,” he said with a grin. “She’s about as happy in the sun as a real vampire.” Heleth glowered. “Sun doesn’t bother me,” she said unconvincingly. “Shade’s better, that’s all.”

  But Cord was more concerned about Samella’s feelings, just then. Since they had left the shuttle he had seen the small frown lines between her eyes, the slight tension around her mouth. “Is your head all right?” he asked at last.

  “It’s not bad,” she assured him. “Not like be^ fore. Just a strange kind of pressure—a feeling of being watched. I can put up with it.”

  Cord nodded, feeling a faint chill at the eeriness of the uncanny mental link between Same 11a and the trees. But it won’t be for long, he told himself. And at least he had no sense of being watched, no feeling of threatening alien eyes fixed on him from the forest shadows. Even so, he kept a careful watch on the trees at either side of the broad trail—and saw that Heleth and the two Streeters, warrior instincts alert, were doing just the same.

  And it was not only aliens that they were watching for.

  “One thing I don’t like,” Heleth said after a few more minutes of walking. “That freaky Lamprey out here somewhere. What if he follows us, wherever we go?” “We still got the rifle,” Rontal growled. “If he shows up and tries somethin’… then we make sure he doesn’t show up again.”

  “The aliens’ve prob’ly got him by now,” Jeko said lightly.

  “He’s a Crusher,” Heleth reminded them. “He can probably handle the aliens all by himself.”

  “Forget him,” Cord said firmly. “He probably won’t follow us—and if he does, we’ll worry about it then.”

  The others shrugged, nodded, and began chat’ ting about other matters. And again Cord felt slightly uneasy at this ready acceptance of his decisions, his leadership. But since that was the way they seemed to prefer it, he knew he would have to put up with it. For now.

  At the same time, he felt a renewed pleasure at the friendship, the easy closeness, that was growing so rapidly among the oddly mixed five of them. One thing to thank the Lamprey for, he thought dourly, and the aliens. Having common enemies, being in danger together, had bound them together faster than anything else could have done.

  But at least there seemed to be no danger threatening them at that moment. And so they forged ahead, keeping up a brisk and energetic pace despite the clumsy packs on their backs. Until, a little more than an hour after the sun had risen, they reached the end of the path that the shuttle’s crash had cleared. They paused there for a moment, star’ ing ahead into the forest dimness that awaited them on ail sides.

  “At least we get some shade now,” Heleth said happily.

  “Right,” Jeko said. “Shade, and aliens, and worm-things, and the Lamprey…”

  Still, they had no choice. So they set off into the shadowed depths, even more tense and watchful than before. But after another kilometre, it was not the aliens or any other enemy that stopped them. It was the fact that Samella’s pace was slowing, and stumbling now and then, and her face was pale and her teeth clenched.

  “Should I take your pack for a while?” Cord asked at last, looking concerned.

  Samella shook her head painfully. “It’s not that. It’s the trees… They’re getting worse, like before. I can feel the hate and fear, pouring out. …”

  “What’s up with them?” Rontal wondered, glancing uneasily around. “We’re not doing anything.” Heleth frowned. “Could be we’re heading somewhere they don’t want us to be.”

  “You don’.t reckon they’re sorry to see us goin’?” Jeko said, forcing a smile.

  But Cord was nodding thoughtfully. “Heleth could be right. Maybe it’s the direction we’re going.” He stared ahead at the unchanging forest depths. “We could split up, for a while,” he said at last. “One of us could stay behind, with Samella, and the other three could keep going a little way, and see what’s up ahead.”

  “I don’t know,” Samella said doubtfully.

  “It’s the best way,” Cord insisted. “You and Heleth could take the rifle and go back to the clear area, where the pain wasn’t so bad for you. And the three of us could keep going, just for a while. We’ll be all right. We haven’t seen an alien all morning— and if we do, we’ll just run for it.”

  Samella still looked doubtful, but Heleth was glaring. “You want us girls to go back,” she said angrily, “while the big brave men go exploring?” “Right,” Jeko said with a snicker. “And you girls can get some eats ready for when us men get back.”

  Heleth turned her glare on him. “You big’ mouthed Streeter yeck,” she snapped, “I say you stay behind—or I break your skinny back.”

  Jeko’s eyes narrowed, and he started forward. But he stopped as if he had run into a wall when Cord slapped a brawny arm across his chest.

  “Stop it,” Cord said sternly. “Remember what Samella said, when she drove the Lamprey out. We want no more fighting—not among ourselves.”

  Jeko subsided, glowering. “Maybe so. But may’ be some of us gotta watch what we say.”

  “That’s a true thing,” Heleth told him. “For all of us. ”

  “Seems fair,” Rontal put in. “You did kinda push her, Jeko.”

  Jeko glanced at him, then suddenly smiled, looking a little shamefaced. “Right enough. I’ll say sorry.”

  “And me,” Heleth said, returning the smile. “But I still say I’m going exploring.”

  Jeko’s smile widened. “You got it, Bunker lady. Your eyes are better’n mine anyway.”

  Cord let his breath out slowly, feeling relieved and cheered. It seemed that their friendship was strong enough to withstand a flare of anger, even among these wild, street-fighting kids. Maybe, he thought, there’s hope for us yet, on Klydor.

  But not, he added dourly, if we don’t get out of this forest fairly soon.

  So the group separated. Samella, still dubious but also grateful, turned back with Jeko towards the open clearing, where the mental pain from the trees had affected her far less. And Cord led the other two forward, deeper into the forest.

  They had been watchful before, but now their nervous wariness increased with each step they took. Since Samella had the laserifle, they would be in far more danger if they met a group of the blade-wielding forest beings, or another of the larger-sized worm-things. One club and two spears would not be weaponry enough, they knew, in such an encounter. So as they moved ahead, there was hardly a single shadowed tree-trunk, hardly a single bulge in the springy turf, that they did not study with edgy caution before passing near to it.

  But after they had travelled for several kilometres, with not the slightest sign of danger or threat, the knots in Cord’s nerves began to unravel slightly. And he cheered up even more when he glimpsed, in the distance ahead, a wide brightness—which could only be sunlight, pouring down, unhindered by the dense leaf-branches.

  The edge of the forest, he thought exultantly.

  The three of them ran eagerly forward. But when they broke out into the open, they halted, with a mixture of feelings. They were disappointed, because they found themselves not in open country but simply in a large clearing, about half a kilometre across, with the forest looming all around. But they also felt amazement—because the clearing was not empty.

  In its centre stood one tree. And it was simply the hugest living thing Cord had ever seen.

  The tree was not unusually tall, not much more than thirty metres from the ground. But its girth was stupendous. The enormous bulk of its trunk, creased and scarred with age, stood like a mighty tower. From the top, a high fan of leaf-branches rose up another ten or fifteen metres. And within that fan, crowning the enormity of the trunk, they could see the tree’s “brain”, a vast wrinkled bulge that loomed like some mountain promontory.

  “Now that,” Rontal said softly, “is a tree!”

  Cord stepped forward, his club ready. Some-thing seemed to be twined around the gigantic trunk, near the ground—looking like a snake of some sort, or perhaps just a vine. But as he drew closer, Cord saw that it was a kind of rope, thick and strong, looking like it had been woven or plaited out of thin strips of some animal hide. And though he had no idea why it should be there, girdling the colossal tree, he felt the hairs on his neck bristle with a nameless fear.

  Beside him, Heleth halted, clearly feeling the same way. “I don’t like this,” she said uneasily.

  Rontal, another time, might have teased her again about her dislike of sunlight and open sky. But this time he merely nodded. “That tree’s just too big,” he said. “Spooky.”

  The words seemed to focus Cord’s thoughts, as he gazed at the enormous tree. And realization struck him.

  “It’s not the size of it,” he said slowly. “We don’t like this place because it doesn’t like us. And this tree’s so big, with such a powerful brain, that even we can feel some of the fear and hate it’s sending out.” His voice tightened. “This is why Samella was getting worse, the closer she got to this place. Imagine what she’d be feeling if she’d come this far.”

  Heleth grimaced. “Let’s move.”

  “We better,” Rontal agreed. “Maybe this tree’s callin’ a bunch of aliens to come and get rid of us.” He glanced up, forcing a nervous grin. “We’re goin’ now, tree,” he called. “We’re not gonna hurt you, or any tree—no more. Okay?”

  The others laughed, half-heartedly, and moved swiftly across the clearing, to plunge back into the forest. As before, they maintained their careful, edgy watch on the shadows around them. Within a few minutes, the sense of fear and threat that they had felt in the clearing began to wane. And still there was no sign of the forest beings.

  “Wonder where the aliens are?” Heleth said idly after a few more moments of watchful travel.

  “A long way from here, I hope,” Cord said. “Maybe chasin’ the Lamprey somewhere,” Rontal said with a chuckle, “like Jeko said.”

  And good luck to them, Cord thought grimly. He glanced up at the sky, and saw that it was just about midday. “Let’s hurry along,” he told the others. “We’ll pick up Samella and Jeko, eat something, and be on our way. Samella should be all right if we stay well away from that big tree.”

  But, back in the open area at that moment, Samella was far from all right.

  When she and Jeko had emerged from the trees into the open corridor, she had felt much better. The torment in her mind had eased to nothing more than a dull headache. And so she had begun to while away the time by unpacking a few micro tools, and working on one of the memory banks of GUIDE— who was, after all, in her backpack. And Jeko had taken charge of the laserifle, and was lounging next to her, chatting idly.

  Now and then he would peer intently around, at the silent forest that stood on either side of them. But, sitting in bright sunlight, it was impossible for him to see very deeply into the dim depths among the trees. So there was no chance that he could have seen the flickering movement within those depths—a movement like a darting, flitting shadow, pale and silent as a wraith.