a bushy head of hair, a raven-headed woman with a too full bodice and eyes filled with hate. And the boy. The same boy that he had tried to save from the nomads now looked up at him out of white-white eyes. Tohm looked to the woman, looked into her horrid normal eyes and decided the boy was no better off than before. "Stop this cart!" he shouted again.
The driver shrugged his shoulders. Tohm fired a warning shot, tore the front fender apart. The bearded man reached for the lever of the brake and settled the cart gently to the ground. "What ye want?"
"Just a little food," Tohm said. "Set down a melon, some berries, a little of everything."
The driver got out and began selecting a variety. Gun drawn, Tohm drifted toward the boy. "Why did you run away?"
"Leave him alone," the bosomy young woman snapped.
"Why did you run away?" he persisted.
The white-white eyes glared at him.
"Leave him alone," Hunk said uneasily.
The boy smiled.
"I saved his life," Tohm explained. "I saved his life, and he ran away with the men who were going to kill him."
"Get away from him!" Hunk screamed at his friend and only transportation.
Tohm strained his neck to look at the Mutie. "What's the matter?"
Suddenly colors washed over him
…
Waves of color ridden by nubile maidens…
He brought up the pistol while he still had time and some sense of reality. He fired. The shot burst above the head of the boy but was enough to scare him into stopping the dreams. The driver crawled back into his seat. "The food is there. Let us go."
The woman flashed an evil stare at Tohm as the boy buried his head in her ample breasts, doing more—Tohm thought—than a mere boy should have been doing there.
"Go," Hunk said for him.
The driver lifted the brakes, started the cart, and floated away.
Hunk signed. "It wasn't the same boy you saw before. You can be sure of that."
"But it was! Who was he."
Hunk flapped a tentacle in the direction of the fruits. "We had better eat before they get to town and have the police after us."
Chapter Eight
IT WAS two o'clock in the morning when they reached the capital. Tohm thought that whatever the Muties had done to the city the attack must not have been too unusual, for everything seemed quite normal and calm. Everyone was asleep. Or nearly everyone, anyway.
They whistled in from the sea, climbed high above the city, and dropped down on the buildings unseen in the pitch night. The buildings were of every size and shape. There were spheres of all hues, forty story rectangles composed almost completely of windows, square box structures without any windows at all, and even a pyramid temple. Lights lined the main streets, green globes like fruit on the metal trees of the lamp posts. There were few lights inside the buildings, and most of these seemed standard night lights.
"How do we contact your underground?" Tohm asked, hovering over a giant rectangle, peering down into the flower-planted medial strip.
"Same way I always did before, I guess. The Old Man would have kept the same headquarters. We operate from caves."
"But," Tohm said, "I thought you transferred only the city. How far down did you move things?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Well, the city is, in a strange way, an entity. It is connected, each building to the other, each lamp post to the sewers, and—in the mind of we Muties—the caves are also an integral part. When we pictured the city, we pictured the caves with it just in case we failed— as we did—and needed the caves later."
"But there was no hole in the ground where you uprooted the city," Tohm said.
A hovercraft sped by on the boulevard below.
"Oh, it's not actually uprooted, as you're thinking of it. It just never was in that spot as far as space-time laws are concerned. When we found that we could not push it through the Fringe, we allowed the space-time currents to sway it, moving with them, placing the city in another location that could, by natural laws, accept it
For
The driver shrugged his shoulders. Tohm fired a warning shot, tore the front fender apart. The bearded man reached for the lever of the brake and settled the cart gently to the ground. "What ye want?"
"Just a little food," Tohm said. "Set down a melon, some berries, a little of everything."
The driver got out and began selecting a variety. Gun drawn, Tohm drifted toward the boy. "Why did you run away?"
"Leave him alone," the bosomy young woman snapped.
"Why did you run away?" he persisted.
The white-white eyes glared at him.
"Leave him alone," Hunk said uneasily.
The boy smiled.
"I saved his life," Tohm explained. "I saved his life, and he ran away with the men who were going to kill him."
"Get away from him!" Hunk screamed at his friend and only transportation.
Tohm strained his neck to look at the Mutie. "What's the matter?"
Suddenly colors washed over him
…
Waves of color ridden by nubile maidens…
He brought up the pistol while he still had time and some sense of reality. He fired. The shot burst above the head of the boy but was enough to scare him into stopping the dreams. The driver crawled back into his seat. "The food is there. Let us go."
The woman flashed an evil stare at Tohm as the boy buried his head in her ample breasts, doing more—Tohm thought—than a mere boy should have been doing there.
"Go," Hunk said for him.
The driver lifted the brakes, started the cart, and floated away.
Hunk signed. "It wasn't the same boy you saw before. You can be sure of that."
"But it was! Who was he."
Hunk flapped a tentacle in the direction of the fruits. "We had better eat before they get to town and have the police after us."
Chapter Eight
IT WAS two o'clock in the morning when they reached the capital. Tohm thought that whatever the Muties had done to the city the attack must not have been too unusual, for everything seemed quite normal and calm. Everyone was asleep. Or nearly everyone, anyway.
They whistled in from the sea, climbed high above the city, and dropped down on the buildings unseen in the pitch night. The buildings were of every size and shape. There were spheres of all hues, forty story rectangles composed almost completely of windows, square box structures without any windows at all, and even a pyramid temple. Lights lined the main streets, green globes like fruit on the metal trees of the lamp posts. There were few lights inside the buildings, and most of these seemed standard night lights.
"How do we contact your underground?" Tohm asked, hovering over a giant rectangle, peering down into the flower-planted medial strip.
"Same way I always did before, I guess. The Old Man would have kept the same headquarters. We operate from caves."
"But," Tohm said, "I thought you transferred only the city. How far down did you move things?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Well, the city is, in a strange way, an entity. It is connected, each building to the other, each lamp post to the sewers, and—in the mind of we Muties—the caves are also an integral part. When we pictured the city, we pictured the caves with it just in case we failed— as we did—and needed the caves later."
"But there was no hole in the ground where you uprooted the city," Tohm said.
A hovercraft sped by on the boulevard below.
"Oh, it's not actually uprooted, as you're thinking of it. It just never was in that spot as far as space-time laws are concerned. When we found that we could not push it through the Fringe, we allowed the space-time currents to sway it, moving with them, placing the city in another location that could, by natural laws, accept it
For
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