Hothouse - Brian Aldiss [32]
In Nomansland, where the struggle to survive was at its most intense, this process of imitation was particularly noticeable. The willows were a living example of it; they had copied the sand octopus, and by so doing had become the most invincible beings along that dreadful coast.
Killerwillows now lived submerged under the sand and shingle, only their foliage occasionally showing. Their roots had acquired a steely flexibility and become tentacles. To one of these brutes the group now owed its lives.
A sand octopus was obliged to stifle its prey as soon as possible. Too long a struggle attracted its rivals, the killerwillows; for those that imitated it had become its deadliest enemies. They moved up on it now, two of them, heaving themselves along under the sand with only their leaves showing like innocent bushes, and a furrow of disturbed dirt behind them.
They attacked without hesitation or warning.
Their roots were long and sinewy and fearfully tough. One from one side, one from the other, they took a hold on the tentacles of the sand octopus. It knew that deadly grip, it recognized that obscene strength. Relinquishing its hold on the humans, it turned to fight the killerwillows for its life.
With a heave that sent the group scattering, it emerged from the sand, its beak agape, its pale eyes round with fright. Giving a sudden twist, one of the killerwillows sent it sprawling upside down. The sand octopus twisted back into position, managing to free all its tentacles but one as it did so. Angrily, it pecked off the offending tentacle with one savage bite, as if its own flesh were the enemy.
Close at hand lay the sullen sea. Its impulse was to retreat there in an emergency. But even as it began its frantic scuttle, the tentacular roots of the killerwillows thrashed blindly about, seeking for it. They found it! The octopus whipped up a curtain of sand and pebble in its fury as its retreat was checked.
But the killerwillows had it – and between them they commanded some thirty-five knotty legs.
Forgetting themselves, the humans stared fascinated at this unequal duel. Then the blindly waving arms flashed in their direction.
‘Run!’ Toy cried, picking herself up as sand spurted near her.
‘It’s got Fay!’ Driff screamed.
The smallest of the group had been caught. Searching for a hold, one of those thin white tentacles of roots had wrapped Fay round the chest. She could not even cry out. Her face and arms went purple. Next second she was lifted up and dashed brutally against the trunk of a nearby tree. They saw her half-severed body roll bloodily over into the sand.
‘It is the way,’ Poyly said sickly. ‘Let’s move!’
They fled into the nearest thicket and lay gasping there. As they mourned the loss of their youngest companion, the sounds came to them of the sand octopus being shredded to pieces.
chapter nine
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For a long while after the horrible noises had stopped, the six members of the group lay where they were. At last Toy sat up and spoke to them.
‘You see what has happened because you do not let me lead you,’ she said. ‘Gren is lost. Now Fay is dead. Soon we will all be dead and our souls rotting.’
‘We must get out of Nomansland,’ said Veggy sulkily. ‘This is all the suckerbird’s fault.’ He was aware that he was to blame for the incident with the sand octopus.
‘We shall get nowhere,’ Toy snapped, ‘until you obey me. Do you have to die before you know that? After this, you do what I say. Do you understand, Veggy?’
‘Yes.’
‘May?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you, Driff and Shree?’
‘Yes,’ they said, and Shree added, ‘I’m hungry.’
‘Follow me quietly,’ Toy said, tucking her soul more securely into her belt.
She led them, testing every step she took.
By now, the din of the sea battle was abating. Several trees had been dragged down into the water. At