Red in Tooth & Claw
Marweg quickly realized that this was not going to be the safari he had envisioned. Gorgoroth’s laconic responses were simple, and Marweg struggled to refrain from deluging his guide with questions.
When he had researched the Dreamt Menagerie, Marweg had thought it to be something of a zoo, but what they had discovered instead was a small outpost, with swivel racks of informative brochures and a couple shelves of souvenirs, guarding a vast expanse of wild dreamland. The massive, bull-headed ranger Gorgoroth had been about to head into the wilds when they arrived and had not refused Marweg’s request to tag along.
He had hoped to interview the ranger in depth, but it wasn’t proving easy to chat here. The air was too thick, the atmosphere viscous at times—halfway to underwater—pressing in and upsetting his equilibrium.‡
Marweg scribbled surplus queries in a notebook when he could tear himself away from the astonishing landscapes. Their tractor—a spindletread, Gorgoroth had said—rode on tall needles embedded in a wide tread, skewering but not crushing the occasional plant, leaving almost no trace on the landscape as they crept through. Gorgoroth steered the conveyance slowly enough that anything ambulatory was able to move out of the way.
The Dreamt Menagerie had disappeared behind them some time ago, and Marweg realized disconcertingly that he didn’t actuallyknow where he was or how to return if Gorgoroth didn’t bring him back. For that matter, if he got lost out here, he might not return at all.
This was a real adventure, Marweg was sure. He recalled the tall tales of the Sunpath Safari expeditions and realized that they might not have been as far-fetched as he had once assumed.
One hillside stirred and got up as they passed. Its previously hidden snout rooted toward a small spinney, and then it reached out and plucked a tree, peeled off some of the bark, and started crunching.* Its stony teeth were enormous. Marweg couldn’t help but stare in fascination, listening to the sounds of splintering wood.
A little while later a field of red flowers darted out of their way and then closed in behind again after they’d passed. Every flower bent toward them, and Marweg felt watched by hundreds of eyes. He glanced at his guide. Gorgoroth’s eyes were sharp and focused on a landscape with no trail, no order, and no discernible reason. He turned with no warning, and the needle treads began to dip downhill.
There was a knot of trees at the end of the ravine near an opaline boulder. The leaves were an iridescent purple and blue and sparkled like an insect’s carapace in the light. Around it the grass shone with little flecks of reflected light like dew, though it had been trampled flat by the large ruminant trapped there in a weighted net.
Gorgoroth arrested the spindletread and got off.
“Are we letting it out?” Marweg asked nervously. The animal really was quite large.
Gorgoroth grunted and kept moving.
As Gorgororth made a small circuit of the trap, Marweg got out and cautiously approached the creature. He tentatively put a hand out as though to touch it, and then pulled back. He could sense the quickening of its heart rate, its emotions lashing fearfully in all directions. “Are you all right?” he asked.
A deep snuffling voice replied to him with an exhausted tremor, “I just went out to meet my herd and then I couldn’t move. I can’t move. Help me, I can’t move, it won’t get off!”
Marweg pointed at Gorgoroth. “Do you see him?”
The animal’s eyes traveled to the side of its head and looked where Marweg pointed. “Yes. Help me!”
“He’ll get you out of here, don’t worry,” Marweg replied reassuringly. He held his hand to its snout and looked expectantly at Gorgoroth. The beast gradually calmed down.
Gorgoroth finished his circuit and came back to the trees. Without a word, he took out a collar, attached it expertly around the creature’s rubbery neck, and fastened it to the tree. He pulled off the netting and began a careful check of the beast, pressing at the muscles, stroking the fur, and peering at its hooves.
Checking for parasites, Marweg thought. Or maybe just seeing if it’s healthy.
Satisfied, Gorgoroth grunted to himself and took the creature by the head. He petted it a few times in a soothing sort of way. The beast’s snorts calmed from a gale to a whisper. He patted it on the shoulder, walked around behind it, and took its back leg in both hands and calmly snapped it across his knee.
A cry of pain pierced the thick air and made Marweg gasp in horror. Gorgoroth removed the collar and stoically watched the beast limp away. It stumbled down the slope to the edge of the pool and sank to the ground, lowing in confusion and pain.
Nodding in satisfaction, Gorgoroth got back into the spindletread and made to move on. Terrified of being left behind, Marweg ran and clambered up. He was too angry to speak and took a moment to breathe before demanding, “What was that about? Why did you cripple that beast?”
His guide shrugged. “The snakes won’t eat them if I kill them first. But they need my help right now. Easy prey makes survival more likely.”
“You were setting up a meal for the snakes?”
Gorgoroth nodded. “Population’s low. We need to build it back to balance.”
Marweg nodded nervously. He inched a bit further away in his seat.
They made five more stops, and at each Marweg half expected another mutilation. But Gorgoroth didn’t repeat the action anywhere else. He loaded the occupants of three traps onto the spindletread, to be seen to back at the Menagerie. Each was sick or injured, and Marweg spoke to them, calming them down and helping them relax into the trip. As they slowly quieted to sniffles, he began to feel better about the whole trip. Two other traps held small creatures that Gorgoroth transferred to the cages he had brought.
“What’s going to happen to these?” Marweg asked.
Gorgoroth shut the lid and checked the fastenings. “Menagerie needs feeding,” he replied.
“Like crickets?”
Gorgoroth nodded assent.
Marweg leaned back and took in the strange environment, breathing the thick air deeply. “I might’ve enjoyed having that first beast in my own menagerie,” he commented.
Gorgoroth shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t. They make a mess of your sleep patterns. The snakes’ presence keeps them on the move. Stay too long in one place, they warp your wakefulness.”
“Couldn’t one just build safeguards against that?”
“Why? Here, it doesn’t matter.”
They drove on. Marweg drank the atmosphere in and felt surprised at the ease with which he had avoided the sense of drowning.
“You know,” he said to break the silence, “I’ve only ever read about places like this. I’ve always wanted to see creatures in their natural state, but I’d never had the chance. As a Goetic, I mostly deal with angels and demons, you see, and they just don’t have the same appeal. They don’t belong, not like what you work with. They’re far more passe; this is the real stuff, this, this is incredible.”
Gorgoroth grunted, keeping his eyes ahead.
“Do you breed these animals for people?” Marweg asked excitedly. “Could you obtain something from here for me?”
He shook his head, frowning at the question. Marweg lapsed into silence again, temporarily quelled by the expression.
Then, “How do you manage to trap such different creatures?” he asked suddenly. “What if the trap catches the wrong species?”
Gorgoroth shrugged. “Know your audience.”
An ironic eyebrow raised on Marweg’s forehead. “Care to elaborate?”
His guide’s brow furrowed in thought. “Not just what they eat or drink, where they live. What motivates them. What attracts them. How you feed into that so that they are drawn, and others repelled.”
He pointed to a just-visible display with ostentatiously garish coloration. “That’s designed for triffids. They don’t care what colors are used; they just want the stark lines. The colors warn off other creatures that might enter instead. Then only the creature it’s supposed to catch enters. Sometimes it’s a scent, a food, a color, a texture, maybe a mate. But this is Blue. To lure them in you might need an emotion, a pheromone, a dream path. Either way: display or mimic the desire well enough and you’ll get your quarry.”
“Can you always predict what they’ll do?”
“No. Nature is fickle, nightside doubly so. Do you respond like your companions?”
Marweg conceded that he did not. Gorgoroth nodded as though the matter was solved and turned back to steer. He grimaced suddenly, pained, and abruptly stopped the spindletread. Marweg lost his balance and nearly fell out.
“What’s happening?” he asked, getting back to his seat.
Gorgoroth said nothing, but his body tensed. He got out and approached a strange formation. Marweg quickly followed.
The landscape before them was covered in hexagonal gridded patterns, about twenty meters to a side. Animals moved inside them, plants grew in them, nature seemed to thrive, but each stayed within their allotment. It stretched out in front of Marweg like an enormous honeycomb of irregularly repeating motifs of flora and fauna.
Gorgoroth approached the nearest hex and bent down. Marweg came closer to see what he was looking at.
The hexes were encroaching further. Marweg could see a new series forming from the previous, a grid of tile and border piecing itself together, segregating life forms into their own niches. Gorgoroth snorted with disgust, trudged back to the spindletread, and returned with a pair of long, tubed contraptions. He tossed one to Marweg and, gripping the handles of the other, said, “Follow along.”
They walked to the edge of the new row. Gorgoroth pointed the squirt-gun nozzle of his device at the lattice and opened the valve. The air in front of the nozzle wavered like heat off a stone in midsummer, and the grid started shriveling and falling away like paint peeling off of a wall. He slowly and methodically worked his way to the side, burning away the grid in a clear line. The contents of each hex seemed irregularly affected, with some withering or evaporating and others bursting across their old borders.
Marweg looked at his device and then at Gorgoroth’s. He found the places for his hands and set them comfortably. “Should I do this side?”
“That’d be good.”
Marweg opened the valve and pointed the nozzle at the new creatures and flora that he’d never seen before. It’s like trimming back overgrowth, he assured himself. Circle of life. He whispered to the plants to forgive him for his treatment of their fellows and proceeded.
“Gorgoroth,” he called, burning away another hex formation, “what are these things? What happens if we don’t break them down?”
Gorgoroth finished another firewall section. “They’re encroaching on the reserve. She’s been doing it for months. If the vislae had it her way, these grids would cover all of Blue. Everything else would be obliterated.”
Marweg melted down another hex on his row. “That seems reasonable, but what about the life that’s withering? Doesn’t it belong here?”
His guide shook his head. “Invasive. Comes in with the hexes. I’ve been trying to scour them as I find them. It’s been getting worse, quicker.”
They had burned through about twenty yards of strip when they heard an angry call. “What do you think you’re doing?! Stop that immediately!”‡
At the voice of authority, Marweg turned off his device and looked up. Gorgoroth didn’t bat an eye and continued to burn the hexes away.
Coming toward them was a fierce woman with opaque glasses and the sides of her head shaved. Her dark face swelled with rage as she approached, and she pointed a finger directly at Marweg’s chest. “Explain yourself,” she snapped.
“Well, I—” Marweg stopped, unsure of where to begin. “You see, these hexes are invasive , they are encroaching on the, on the reserve and, and they need to be dismantled or else …” He trailed off and shrunk back, afraid she would strike him.
“Gorgoroth doesn’t understand anything about the need to.… This place is an utter nightmare, completely disorganized, completely mismanaged.” The woman seethed. “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is dealing with all these idiocies? Why can’t anyone have a little productive vision?” She spat her words in Gorgoroth’s direction. Then she looked closer at Marweg and frowned. “You’re a Goetic? Why would you help him?”
“I am, yes, I’m new here. Gorgoroth was just showing me the Nightside Blue environs and I…”
“Who’s your superior?” she interrupted.
Marweg paused. I don’t have a mentor. Did she mean Gertrude? He realized with a sinking feeling that he knew where this was going. “I’m afraid I haven’t been terribly active with the order. I’ve just begun seeking a mentor for the higher degrees.” He eyed her badge. “I see you’re third degree. What name do you go by?”
She stood straighter. “You may call me M’Baka; I’m the ranking Goetic of Nightside Blue.”
A letter of introduction from Gertrude imposed itself on Marweg’s memory. His eyes brightened with recognition and apology. “Oh yes, I was told about you. I was meaning find you, but I’ve been lost rather badly around here so far. I’m Marweg, based primarily in Indigo. This is my first time here in Blue, Nightside or otherwise.” He extended his hand with a nervous smile. “Gertrude said I should reach out.”
M’Baka looked less than impressed. “I’m sure Gertrude had her reason for sending you to me, and I understand your disorientation, but that doesn’t justify abetting Gorgoroth’s vandalism. It undermines my work to fix things here.” She gave Gorgoroth another piercing glare before turning back to Marweg. “Drop that at once and come with me.”
At first he resisted, but Marweg felt a strange jolt of something push through him and he obeyed. Or tried to. By the time he got back to the spindletread and attempted to put it down, the contraption had disappeared from his hands. He stared at them dumbly for a moment, then came back to M’Baka.¶
As Gorgoroth continued working, M’Baka ignored him and took Marweg aside.
“I certainly wasn’t aware that there was a need to reshape Blue according to an orderly scheme like this.” Marweg began, watching her expressions carefully. “What do you hope to accomplish? I’m afraid I don’t see it.”
M’Baka took a deep breath. “This side of Blue is saturated with toxicity. Unconnected thoughts, disturbed memories, repressions, they all manifest in the environment, and we haven’t been able to stop the sources that release it into the landscape, that foment it. However, if we can’t stop it getting out, at least we can mitigate the effects they have on the region.” She gave a knowing look. “You’ve seen Nimragul, the perversions he revels in, the blight to this side of the sun he causes.”
“I have,” Marweg replied, “but there are many creatures that naturally reside here in this environment. By changing the environment so drastically, doesn’t that doom entire species to extinction?”
“If they can’t adapt to a more reasonable environment, they likely aren’t worth saving,” M’Baka snapped. “I won’t permit a cancer to persist out of good feelings for the tumor. I’d rather save the body.”
“I don’t know,” Marweg confessed. “I’ve never seen the other side of Blue, but what you’re attempting seems like it would be a better fit on that side?”
“You don’t need chemo if you’re healthy. There’s clarity in Blue, whole vision, well-defined emotional paths. There’s none of the confusion, random shifts, gnarly blockages, or instability there is here.” She cocked her head to one side. “Are you expecting to reside here long?”
“Just passing through,” he replied. “We were on our way to Nightside Green; we need some materials from there. We’re just engaging in activities to allow us safe passage there and back.”
“Us?” M’Baka glanced hopefully at Gorgoroth.
“My companions were left behind at the Menagerie.”
“I see.” She pursed her lips. “Is one of your companions dispensable?”
Marweg shook his head. “Not at all. I presume you’re speaking of the toll to pass to Nightside Green. I intended to make a simple summoning to pay for me.”
“But what about the rest of them?” M’Baka pressed. “Are they Goetics too?”
“They are not. They say they have made personal arrangements already, and I believe I may have faith enough in them to say they did not presume to make me their payment.”
M’Baka didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched to an uncomfortable length.
“You might be able to solve both our problems at once,” she said finally, giving him a keen glance. “Demogan doesn’t always require death; servitude and permanence can be enough. I would wager that Gorgoroth would be better suited to look after the seed and the rot than this mess. Could you convince him to go with you?”
Marweg frowned. “We only just met,” he protested, “and he seems quite attached to his work here. In fact, if you will permit me a personal question, your ability to make order out of chaos would seem a perfect fit to work in Nightside Green. Have you ever considered it?” He gestured to the land before them. “That is, after all, the role you have taken upon yourself here.”
“It’s easier to address things before they metastasize.” She indicated the hexes before frowning again at Gorgoroth’s back. “I didn’t leave on good terms. Returning would mean an end, and likely not just for me. But it has crossed my mind, truly. Perhaps when I’m done here, I can proceed along the Nightside Path.”
“You came from there?” Marweg asked.
“It’s how I know the cost of entry,” she replied wryly.
Marweg nodded in understanding. “I assume you’ve been here for some time yourself then?”
She nodded. “It’s been a year now.”
“Impressive that the ranking member of the Order here is only third.”
“You haven’t traveled much, have you?” she said. When he shook his head, she continued. “Once you get out of Indigo, you’ll find that vislae in general are few and far between. That goes double for nightside, and that’s where you’re headed.”
“You said you came back from Nightside Green, you must have paid your cost. How did you gain entry?”
M’Baka shrugged. “There was a prisoner on another sun sentenced to death. I took the opportunity to solve their dispensation of justice and my travel costs at the same time.”
“Why did you wish to travel there at all?” he pressed.
She sighed. “If you want to take up a station as an ambassador, you have to travel the whole path first. I made a brief tour before settling here, but much of it is sheer practicality. If you find you have a need to move between the suns in official status, you don’t want to be figuring out paying tolls then. Better to have sorted that out first in case sudden travel arises, and then you know you have passage assured beforehand. Pure pragmatism.”
“Ambassadors? I think Gertrude may have said…”
“But no embassy.” M’Baka finished the thought for him. “We’re just point people, really, in case someone needs assistance. It’s not terribly formal along the nightside.”
“How long were you in Nightside Green? I’ll need to be able to navigate there, and I could use some advice.” His worry began to show on his face.
M’Baka shuddered. “It was an awful experience, even though I had adequately prepared. Everything around you is growing, spreading, writhing, constant and unmitigated, it’s horrible. Constant death and decay, growth and rot… it’s not colloquy with a demon where you can get a sense of what it wants and bend it to your will. The entire environment betrays you.” She closed her eyes and shook her head violently for a moment. “Deeply unsettling.”
“Would you review my preparations?” Marweg asked meekly.
M’Baka confirmed with a quick inventory, and Marweg breathed with relief.
There was a clunk behind him. Marweg turned to see Gorgoroth putting away his equipment. His line was completely burned away, and he seemed ready to leave. He ignored Marweg and M’Baka.
Marweg hastily turned back to M’Baka. “I need to go with him to get back my companions, but where can I find you in future?”
She took a pendant from her neck and handed it to him. It looked like a pixelated nautilus spiral. “Look for me in the Library of Aflattus; we discuss managing the ecosystem.” She lowered her voice. “See if you can turn his ear, bring him to Nightside Green.”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said as he headed back to the spindletread. “I appreciate the advice.”
She waved farewell, glaring at Gorgoroth again.
Twenty minutes of disquiet accompanied them across the rolling, jumping, and sometimes yawning hillsides. Gorgoroth occasionally side-eyed Marweg but said nothing. Finally, Marweg couldn’t stand it any longer.
“How long has this standoff been going on?”
He thought he might not receive an answer, but Gorgoroth muttered, “I’ve been burning it away for months.”
“Well. I don’t agree,” Marweg said stoutly. “I think her vision of wildlife management is overly simplistic. When I come back through, I will try to convince her to transfer somewhere suited to her mindset. Silver, for instance.”
Gorgoroth’s features softened.
“I am sorry,” Marweg said, “that a fellow goetic has caused such difficulty.”
His guide didn’t speak. But his broad frame released some of its tension. When they arrived back at the Menagerie, Marweg helped unload the containers into the caretaking area.
Before he left, Gorgoroth put his hand on Marweg’s shoulder.
“You were good company,” he said gravely. “You may return as you wish.”
Marweg glowed.¶
‡ Silver Sun, Vizier
* Inspirations included Porky in Wackyland (1949), Cuphead
‡ Green Sun, Relentless Rumor
¶ Failed contested interaction test, with magical flux causing the item to disappear.
¶ Marweg gains joy, acumen