Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [580]
Immediately, there was a shrill cry from Uuundaamp and he lashed on the asokins. The phagor pulled off the rear brake. They sizzled forward, aided by the slope.
Fashnalgid was already on his feet. Already he was fading into the dimness. He began to run. Shokerandit yelled to him to come on. The wind roared, the Ondod shrieked, the runners screamed. Fashnalgid was catching up. As he came level with the rear of the sledge, his face contorted with effort, the phagor lifted an arm to strike another blow.
To be alone in the long tunnel was to face certain death. Other sledges, thrusting through the gloom, would simply run a man over. This was Ondod smrtaa.
Shouting at the top of his voice, Shokerandit drew his revolver and ran back on his knees over the loaded sledge. He clamped the muzzle against the phagor’s long skull.
‘I’ll blast your sherbing harneys out.’ The silver fox tail fell from his mouth and was gone.
The phagor cowered back.
‘Throw the brake on.’
Bhryeer did so, but the downhill impetus was such that it made little difference, beyond sending a spume of fine snow over the running man.
Still the whip whistled and the driver shrieked at his team. Fashnalgid was falling back, mouth open, blackened face distorted. His never-too-certain will was failing him.
‘Don’t give up,’ yelled Shokerandit, stretching out a hand to the captain.
Making a new effort, Fashnalgid increased speed. His boots drummed on the snow as he slowly drew level with the rear of the sledge. Bhryeer cowered out of harm’s way. The wind shrilled.
Clutching a cord securing the tent with one gloved hand, Shokerandit leant forward and extended his other hand. He shouted encouragement. Fashnalgid was tiring. The sledge was still gaining speed. The two men stared into each other’s wide eyes. Their gloved hands touched.
‘Yes,’ yelled Shokerandit. ‘Yes, leap aboard, man, fast!’
Their grips locked. Just as Shokerandit tugged, Uuundaamp gave a swerve to the left, flicking the runners of the sledge up the sloping side of the tunnel, and almost overturning his vehicle. Shokerandit was flung free. He clutched at and missed a runner as it sizzled past his face. Fashnalgid stumbled over him and they sprawled flat.
When they picked themselves up, the sledge was disappearing in the dimness.
‘Lousy biwacking drivers,’ Fashnalgid said, bending forward and trying to get his breath back. ‘Animals.’
‘That was deliberate. That’s Ondod smrtaa – vengeance. Because of your ape tricks with the woman.’ He had to turn his back to the wind flow to speak.
‘That stinking tub of lard? He said himself that she was not good enough even for an asokin to enjoy.’ He bent double, panting.
‘That’s how they talk, you fool. Now listen, and take in what I say. This tunnel is death. Another sledge may come through at any moment, from one end or the other. There’s no way we could stop it, except with our bodies. We have about seven miles to go, I’d guess, and we’d better do it fast.’
‘How about going back and taking the road?’
‘That way’s about thirty miles. We’ve no provisions and we’d still be walking when dark fell. We would be dead. Now, are you going to run? Because I am.’
Fashnalgid straightened up, groaning. He said, ‘Thanks for trying to save me.’
‘Astab you, you arrogant fool. Why couldn’t you have tried to obey the system?’
Luterin Shokerandit started to run. At least it was downhill. His knee hurt from his fall. He listened for the sound of another sledge but heard only the wind roaring in his ears.
The footsteps of Fashnalgid echoed behind him. He never looked back. All his faculties were concentrated on getting through the tunnel to Noonat.
When he thought he could run no further, he made himself keep on. Once there was a gleam of light to one side. In relief, he halted and went to look. Part of the rock of the outer wall, had fallen away, revealing daylight. Nothing could be seen but cloud and, just beyond arm’s reach, a stalactite of ice. He threw a piece of rock into the void, listened, but never heard it fall.