Lightbringers and Rainmakers - Felix Gilman [14]
He kept changing direction. But whatever he did the V-formation of the Vessels was still there in the sky, still on our trail. And wherever we went there were the markings of the Folk on the rocks, and I began to think the Line wasn’t the only thing on our trail. Sometimes I thought I saw people moving on the edges of vision, darting behind rocks. Not Linesmen, who are slow and heavy-footed. Flood’s eyes must be better than mine, and I wonder what he saw.
I hoped for a time it was my assistant, but it seems it wasn’t; if he is still alive he has fled.
For a time we were going downslope, and I stumbled whenever Flood shoved me; then after that we were going up, and I was getting tired and hot, as if I didn’t have enough problems.
“What’s going on, Flood?”
“If I tell you I can’t let you go—you realize that.”
“One way or another I don’t expect to get out of this anyway, and I always was curious. What’s going on?”
“That’s a bigger question than you know. That’s a question as big as the world. Bigger.”
“All right, then: what were you doing down in Disorder?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“For someone to come out of the west.”
“What? Is this to do with—?”
“With what the Line’s looking for? Yes.” He shoved me forward. We were on a steep slope and I kept sliding. “They look in their way—with hundreds of men, and machines, and the law. We look in ours—with a few clever people keeping their eyes open.”
“Why rain-making, Flood? Why lie to everyone?”
“To keep in practice, Ransom. Lying is what we do.”
He shoved me again. “My bosses assigned me to Disorder. To wait and watch and listen. I needed a reason to stay in town, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t stay in style. So I said I was a rainmaker, and they just about made me king. I met a fellow once who said he was a rainmaker, and it sounded like as good a story as any. I made them make me a Pole—well, it was funny at the time.”
“And the story about the Folk?”
“I made it up. After the first couple of weeks I needed an excuse. And you saw—they were always talking about their big Founding Day celebration. Who the hell’s ever heard of Founding Day anyway? These little towns out here celebrate the stupidest things: The first colony and struggling in the wilderness and all that shit. The terrible Folk of the Woods. Four hundred years and they haven’t gotten over it yet! That’s what gave me the idea. Even I was surprised they took it so seriously.”
He kept looking behind him. We were climbing now, clambering with our hands and knees up over big rocks. He made me go first. The Vessels were closer than ever.
“You know what, Ransom, somebody down in that horrible little town told the Linesmen about me. Told them too much about me—told them enough to get them hunting me. Really hunting me. Who do you think it was? I knew I stayed too long in that town. I told my bosses, I’ve been too long in that town, they’re starting to get suspicious. If I get away from them today I’m coming back, I’m coming back to town; I’ll find out who it was who ratted on me, and I’ll settle the score.”
He mentioned a couple of names, which I will not repeat. One of them was a woman I like.
“What are you looking for, Flood? Or who, who are you looking for?”
“What difference does it make to you, Ransom?”
“I want to understand.”
“Well, you don’t get to understand, Ransom.” He shoved me again.
Not long after that the first of the Vessels opened fire on us.
It missed, of course.
We were climbing among sharp rocks, along the edges of deep cracks in the earth that I could not see the bottom of. We were heading toward the peak. I do not think that was the way Flood wanted to go, but I guess he thought he was cornered.
When the Vessels opened fire something changed in Flood’s face. A fixing of resolve. It was as if he had been waiting for