Larry Niven - Beowulf's Children

Beowulf's Children -- Larry Niven

(Version 2002.08.18)

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

EARTH BORN

CADMANN WEYLAND: Onetime Colonel of UN Forces; Avalon Security Chief.

MARY ANN (EISENHOWER) WEYLAND: Botanist and Chief Wife of Cadmann Weyland.

SYLVIA (FAULKNER) WEYLAND: Biologist, Cadmann's Second Wife.

ZACK MOSKOWITZ: Governor of the Avalon Colony.

RACHAEL MOSKOWITZ: Colony Psychologist and Zack's only wife.

CARLOS MARTINEZ: Remittance man. Historian, sculptor, and a hero of the

Grendel Wars.

JOE SIKES: Engineer: Onetime lover to Mary Ann Eisenhower, and a hero of the

Grendel Wars.

HENDRIK SILLS: Pilot. Hero of the Grendel Wars.

CHAKA MUBUTU ("BIG CHAKA"): Biologist.

CAROLYN MCANDREWS: Onetime Administrator and Agronomist. Heroine of the

Grendel Wars.

JULIA CHANG HORTHA: Agronomist, nurse, and Minister of the Unitarian-

Universalist Fellowship.

STAR BORN

MICKEY WEYLAND: Mine Engineer and Forester; oldest son of Cadmann and Mary Ann

Weyland.

LINDA WEYLAND-SIKES: Daughter of Cadmann and Mary Ann Weyland, mother of

Cadzie Weyland. Married to Joe Sikes.

RUTH MOSKOWITZ: Daughter of Zack and Rachel Moskowitz.

Grendel Scouts

JESSICA WEYLAND: First child of Cadmann and Mary Ann Weyland.

JUSTIN FAULKNER: Only surviving child of Sylvia Faulkner and her first

husband. Adopted by Cadmann Weyland.

COLEEN MCANDREWS: Older daughter of Carolyn McAndrews.

KATYA MARTINEZ: Acknowledged child of Carlos Martinez.

EVAN CASTENADA: Skeeter pilot.

EDGAR SIKES: Computer specialist; son of Joe Sikes and Sikes's first wife.

Bottle Babies

AARON TRAGON: Unofficial leader of the Star Born.

STU ELLINGTON: Mathematician, skeeter pilot.

CHAKA MUBUTU ("LITTLE CHAKA"): Biologist; adopted son of Big Chaka.

TRISH CHANCE: Bodybuilder.

DERIK CRISP: Hunter, Grendel Scout Supervisor.

TOSHIRO TANAKA: Sensei to the Star Born; karate and yoga instructor.

Grendel Biters

CAREY LOU DAVIDSON

HEATHER MCKENNIE

SHARON MCANDREWS

OTHERS

CASSANDRA: An artificial intelligence.

OLD GRENDEL

LONG MAMA: Not precisely an eel.

TARZAN, ZWEIBACK, and others: Chamels.

COLD ONE: A snow grendel.

THE QUEEN: A lake grendel.

ASIA: A Scribe.

==========================

Beowulf's Children

Prologue

CAMPFIRE

"Once upon a long, long time ago, our parents and grandparents left a place

called Earth. They traveled across the stars in a ship called Geographic to

find paradise. But their paradise turned into a living hell..."

The campfire jetted white flame as it reached a gum pocket in the horsemane

log. The flame held for almost a minute, then died back to glowing coals. A

cast-iron skillet balanced on firestones sizzled in the embers. A sudden gust

momentarily sent sparks toward the misty night sky and the stars frozen

overhead.

A dozen wide-eyed youngsters were packed shoulder tight on makeshift seats of

logs and stones, huddled expectantly in the dying firelight. They had waited

all their lives for this night.

Justin Faulkner's voice growled, caressed, leapt, burned hotter than the

ebbing flames. "From the stars they came," he stage-whispered. "Seeking to

build homes where no human had ever walked. Avalon was a land untamed,

stretching beneath a sky strange to human eyes. A paradise for the taking.

These men and women were the best, the smartest and the bravest Earth could

offer, two hundred chosen from eight billion people. Our parents. They are the

Earth Born. But they didn't know the truth about their new world, a truth that

you -- " His long sensitive fingers, sculptor's fingers, bunched and stabbed

as if each and every child were guilty of unspeakable crimes. " -- you Star

Born, have never been told...until now. Until this week. Until tonight."

Justin's voice carried the authority and infinite wisdom of all his nineteen

years. None of the children was older than thirteen. Now they were youngsters,

Grendel Biters. Tonight would be their first step toward becoming Grendel

Scouts. At dawn they had left the human settlement called Avalon Town and

hiked across the plain, along the Miskatonic River, then up Mucking Great

Mountain along the minor tributary called the Amazon. Lunch and dinner were

little more than stream water.

Their curious and eager shining eyes were black and brown and blue and jade,

carrying genetic gifts from every people of Earth. Their limber young bodies

were as perfect as the night stars, their minds filled with dreams more

incandescent still. These were the exhausted young inheritors of a world new

to Man.

"...the rivers were filled with a fish they called samlon. And they caught

the fish, and ate the fish..." Justin slipped a knife from his belt sheath. He

poked its point about in the smoking pan, skewing a morsel of sizzling meat.

He held it up, worrying the ragged, black-burnt chunk of flesh with his teeth.

Then he passed both pan and knife to his right, to a ten-year-old girl with

blond, shoulder-length hair.

She bit gingerly at first, then harder to tear a piece loose. The texture

resembled tough beef, not at all like fish. She chewed -- and the meat bit

back. She clawed at her throat, gasping, but managed to pass both pan and

knife to her right. A boy dark-skinned as the surrounding night made a choking

sound, and whispered "Water..."

Their eyes misted. Some struggled with wretched coughs, but no one moved. The

pan circled the campfire until there was nothing left but smoking iron.

"But one night the river which gave life to the colony, brought death. Even

now, even here, high up on Mucking Great, if the wind is very quiet, on a

night like tonight, you can hear old Misk calling..."

Justin trailed off. With superbly theatrical timing, the wind dwindled to a

murmur. There in the distance roared the mighty Miskatonic, rushing past the

foot of Mucking Great...or was that only the Amazon?

"The samlon developed legs, and teeth, and a taste for human blood. They

became...grendels. They clawed their way from the river, gasped air, and found

it good. They moved so fast that other animals looked like statues to them.

They slaughtered everything they saw. Our parents fought back, but it was no

use. The camp was lost. Cadmann Weyland led the survivors here to his

stronghold on Mucking Great, where they made their last stand.

"And there -- " Justin's thin finger cast an unsteady shadow toward the

irregular chunk of stone called Snailhead Rock. "That was where my father

died, torn to pieces by the ravening horde. And there on the verandah is where

Phyllis McAndrews was killed, still screaming reports to the orbiting crew of

Geographic. And there..." Justin was lost in the story now, beginning to

hyperventilate. "...others were caught, torn apart and devoured by frenzied

grendels moving faster than eyes can see. Down there by the cliff edge -- "

The dark hid it. " -- two men waited in a wrecked skeeter while grendels

battered the walls in with their heads. And there was where Joe Sikes sent a

river of fire flowing down, finally killing the grendels, saving every human

life -- "

Pause. The wind had picked up. When it lulled there remained no sound save

the rushing waters.

"That was a long, long time ago. But sometimes on a night like tonight, if

you press your ear to the ground, you can still hear the screams of the dying,

as teeth tear their flesh open and devour their vitals. And you can thank the

spirits of the dead that there is no longer anything to fear.

"No more monsters, no more grendels..." Justin paused for effect. "But if

there are spirits of men, who can say that there are not spirits of monsters

as well?"

His audience's young eyes were wide, and still. Their chests hardly moved as

they struggled to keep control. The dogs were tethered well away from the

campsite, and now, sensing the children's fear, they began to growl and strain

at their leashes.

"Some say that the spirits of the dead war nightly, up here on Mucking Great

Mountain. Our dead parents and grandparents pit rifle and spear and knife

against fang and claw and speed, night after bloody night. They don't want to

-- but they must. Because if they lose, just once...just once..."

He narrowed his eyes fiercely. "The grendels will claw through the portal

that separates life from death, and return to ravage Avalon again. And not

just Avalon. They'll go across the stars as we crossed between stars, back to

Earth..."

A light dew of sweat dampened his forehead. His voice dropped to a hoarse

whisper. "What was that? Was that a scream? It sounded almost like a scream, a

human scream. The scream of a soul already dead, but dying yet again. A soul

now cast into some deeper, more terrible pit. And is that another? And

another...?"

The boys and girls strove to still their breathing and quiet their

heartbeats, attempting to capture every word.

"But if the ghosts of the humans are dying once again then -- "

There was a terrible shriek, and from beyond the ring of firelight lurched a

woman soaked in blood. She staggered, one hand held piteously to her cheek.

One eye was clotted with gore and the other was insanely wide, as if witness

to all the terrors of hell.

After her, in a blur, came something inhuman.

Ten feet of hissing reptile bounded into the firelight: splay-clawed, barb-

tailed, eyes dead to gentleness or love, merciless as glass.

It smashed her to the ground, perched atop her and howled -- !

The children scrambled in all directions, screaming, crying --

Then silence, save for the crackle of the fire. The girl's bloody body lay

still upon the ground, grendel perched above, triumphant --

And then she sat up, sputtering with mirth. "Justin Faulkner, you are an

utter bastard!"

"It's the company I keep, Jessie." He grinned like a shark. "All right, round

'em up!"

The "grendel" sat up, and a stocky, muscular Japanese boy of about seventeen

Earth years climbed out of its hollow belly. His face was darkened with

charcoal, and he laughed so hard he could barely breathe. Jessica slapped him

on the back. "You should make some little, tiny buildings, some miniature

artillery, and do a giant monster movie, Toshiro."

"Godzilla versus a four-hundred-foot grendel?" He shrugged out of the grendel

skin. "You know, if we hadn't had to rebuild Tokyo every six months, Japan

would have ruled all of Earth."

From all around them, just beyond the reach of the firelight, larger human

figures returned, shepherding their younger siblings back to the firelight.

"Come on back!" they roared. "Sissies!"

Shy, embarrassed, the stragglers returned by ones and twos. They protested

loudly but hid grins behind small heads, and wrung crocodile tears from

laughing eyes.

Tentatively, then with growing enthusiasm, they examined the hollow grendel

carcass, its thick forelegs and wide jaws, its stubby spiked tail. They ran

their small fingers along its scales, each imagining that it was his father,

her grandmother who slew the dragon.

Justin took his place at the center by the fire, and this time spoke in a

normal voice. "All right, it was a joke. Not a pointless one. We want you

scared. Grendels are dangerous. The Earth Born killed all the grendels here on

this island. As children you've been safe here all your lives. Now it's time

to learn about your world, all of it, not just this island. We are the Star

Born. This world is ours.

"You've seen a dead grendel. Now you're growing up, and pretty soon you'll go

to the mainland and see live grendels. And more. It's time to learn what

happened to those two hundred. Earth's best and brightest, each of those Earth

Born chosen from among more people than there are stars in these skies.

"Up to now you've lived by Earth Born rules. Now it's time for you to learn

why they make rules, and why we live by them.

"Time to go to the mainland, time to learn why the Earth Born act so strange,

and -- it's time to learn what eats grendels. Now, off to sleep."

The children reluctantly headed toward sleeping bags and bedrolls. A few of

the candidates tried to ask questions, but the Grendel Scouts wouldn't answer.

"Bedtime. You'll learn, but not tonight."

"Why not tonight?"

"You'll learn it all. Now scoot!"

"Can Rascal sleep in my bed tonight?"

"Sure, your dog can sleep with you."

The children tumbled off to bed, pleasantly tired, utterly ready for sleep.

Jessica winced as Justin wiped the slaughterhouse blood from her face.

"Yerch. Tomato juice would have been just as good."

"Such a thought offends my creative soul."

"I did like the wasabi in the beef heart, Toshiro. Nice little touch. You

didn't do that last year."

"Musashi said to 'pay attention even to little things.' " Toshiro stretched

until his back crackled, and poked his bare feet close to the embers.

"I thought it went well," Jessica said. "Just the right balance. Justin, you

brought Sharon McAndrews. She's not twelve yet."

"She's bright, she's curious, and she's been asking questions about her

mother," Justin said. "We have to tell her."

"Zack isn't going to like it."

"Freeze 'im."

"We have agreed to the rules," Toshiro said. "We don't interfere until the

Grendel Biters are twelve -- "

"Wouldn't work," Justin said. "Either we tell Sharon now, or in a year she'll

tease the whole damn story out of Cassandra, and then she'll tell the rest of

the Grendel Biters. No preparation, just bang!, they know. This isn't the last

time this is going to come up, either. Sharon won't be the only one to ask the

right questions." He grinned. "And what's Zack going to do to me?"

"The Earth Born aren't always wrong," Toshiro said. His forefinger traced the

scar on Jessica's neck. It was years old, almost faded, and most of it was

hidden under her hair; but it trailed down her neck to her left shoulder. She

snatched his hand, and kept it.

"I'd be more interested in what Dad thinks," Jessica said. "How does Coleen

feel about this?"

"She thinks she can't go on fooling her little sister much longer," Justin

said. "And I agree. You know their mother."

Toshiro nodded gravely. "Oh, well. Here, I brought some real food."

They moved closer to the fire to roast chunks of turkey breast over the dying

coals, and they sat talking of and laughing over small or important things:

the season's fish yield; skiing on the southern peaks; a review of the

previous week's hysterical debate between Aaron Tragon and Hendrick Sills.

(Postulated: Adam Smith's The Wealth of Nations was actually a misinterpreted

satirical essay.) Modifications in the huge dirigible, Robor. The odds on next

month's surf-off. The conversation went on for hours, until the laughter

finally died down, and yawning took its place.

They were the Star Born. Their electronic servants could bring them all of

Mankind's knowledge: history, science, drama, the great literature of a dozen

cultures, and a hundred soap operas; but they lived in a primitive paradise,

utterly safe, inoculated against every disease. There was more than enough to

eat, meaningful work to do, and few dangers. They were a strong, clean-limbed

clan. Their parents had been chosen after tests that made the old astronaut

selection procedures look like child's play. Physically perfect and bright-

eyed, they radiated the kind of relaxed familiarity that only those raised in

an insular community can ever really know.

There were a few minutes of intense quiet, during which eyes met across the

ember light, and nods preceded gentle touches of offer and acceptance. Two at

a time they linked arms and drifted off into the shadows.

And then at last there were only four left: Jessica, Justin, Toshiro, and a

young redhead named Gloria.

"Success?" Jessica yawned, a question that was not a question.

"Success," Justin agreed. Another round of chuckles.

"Now it's time for the chicken run," Jessica said.

Toshiro yawned. "Ruth still wants to try it."

Justin and Jessica locked gazes, and both laughed simultaneously. "Ruth?"

Justin said incredulously. Then both said at the same time, in the same

little-girl singsong: "But what will Daddy say?"

They broke up again, the laughter subsiding to hiccups. " 'Pon my word,"

Justin said finally. "Zack ruined that child."

"She's asked to become a Grendel Scout," Gloria said. "And asking why we

won't let her in."

The others shook their heads in unison. "No mainland for Camelot's eldest

virgin," Jessica agreed. "Not until she breaks the leash."

Justin stirred lazily. "You have to admit she's a hell of a chamel trainer,

though."

She nodded. "Chamels are fun. Justin, the Earth Born used to explore! I

remember when they brought the first chamels back from the mainland."

"And lost Josef Smeds to a grendel catching them," Toshiro said carefully.

"Yes, but -- " Her eyes were locked on the northern horizon. "I won't say it

was worth that, but you can't explore without risks. And every trip teaches us

more. Teaches me more about myself."

"I just wish..."

"I know," she said quietly. Jessica intertwined fingers with Toshiro, and

gave his hand a squeeze. She affected a huge yawn. "I think...that it's time

to turn in."

They rose, and retreated from the firelight. From out in the darkness there

came a gasp, followed by a prolonged and girlish giggle.

Justin watched her go, and then, belatedly, became aware of the weight of a

feminine head on his shoulder. "Behind us," Gloria said. "Geographic, just

rising."

He turned; Gloria turned with him. Geographic was a silver line with a dot at

one end. No details showed, but it looked huge, just above the line of the

ocean.

Twenty-four years ago...God. "Ten times the mass, back when it went into

orbit. Interstellar brakes! I wish we had photos. Can you imagine how bright

that drive flame must have been?"

"No humans to see it from down here. Maybe it blinded a few grendels." Gloria

was almost behind him, her hands toying with his hair. "Is that really your

wish?"

To see it myself! "I wish...that tonight was Fantasy Night," he lied.

"It's any night you want," she whispered. She reached up, turned his face

with her fingertips, and kissed him blisteringly.

His hands found the warm, soft places on her body, and they sank down

together by the firelight. There was no fumbling; latches and straps unbuckled

as if by magic.

If anyone saw them there, no one commented. There were no gawkers as their

bodies, gilded by the light of embers and twin moons, entwined for almost an

hour before release finally calmed them both.

They cuddled for a time, whispering, then, suddenly freezing, scrambled for a

thermal sleeping bag.

Then there was silence, save for the distant sound of water, and the call of

some far-off night creature. No one heard. The fire consumed its last morsels

of fuel, and began to fade. No one saw.

The only eyes that remained open were grendel eyes. Open, staring, glass

eyes.

Dead eyes.

Eyes that saw everything, and felt nothing at all.

Twenty-four years before...

It should have been dead of night. Her body knew that, even though the whole

world glared silver-blue in the light overhead. The grendel had tried looking

near it, and had been blind for most of a day. Blind with the agony in her

head, eyes that saw only at the edges; blind long enough to die, but the lake

monster hadn't killed her.

Since then she had not looked up, though she would wonder about that spear of

fire in the sky for the rest of her life.

For a long, long time there had been nothing but the hideous pain in her

head. Now the agony in her head was receding. Now she could remember that she

was hungry. Feeble with hunger. How could she feed herself if she was too

feeble to fight?

And how was it that she had never had such a notion until now? She had never

fought the lake monster, but hunger would never have stopped her. Only fear.

At the southern end of a vast lake, where the water emptied out into a

sluggish muddy river, there the grendel had lived as a swimmer. There she had

first drawn breath, and killed a sibling for food. She began to remember, now,

how hungry she had always been. She and her sibs had fought for room to swim

and room to run, for space to hold their own swimmers, and had eaten what they

killed, until only three or four remained. She remembered the sister who had

challenged the monster of the lake, and died almost before the grendel could

turn to see.

The lake monster lurked along the west side of the lake, where pebbly mudflat

gave way to horsemane trees. Farther south the forest was different, a tangled

mass of vines and hives and trees that grew like puzzles and snares. The lake

monster lurked sometimes in the horsemanes, but never in the tangle forest.

And south of the tangle forest was where the grendel and her sisters lived,

and a myriad of their spawn.

Her sisters died, and there were only the grendel and her own spawn. And

still it was not enough. She'd grown too large. Eating her own spawn felt

wrong, repulsive, and that wasn't the worst of it. She and they didn't have

the room. If they tried to spread out, the lake monster took them. No room to

feed, not enough moss and insects for the spawn, meant that they never grew

large enough to feed their mother. She had to move.

Here the muddy river flowed into the lake. By the silver-blue light of a

thing in the sky that fit no pattern at all, she looked south. The patterns

linking in her mind now showed her how strange it was that she had ever come

here alive. She hadn't had the sight, then. Wherever she looked, then, was

only fear, no patterns at all.

She'd seen how fast the lake monster was in the water.

And on land...but not the southwest shore. Something so peculiar had happened

there that the images remained even now...

It had only been a little time since the change, for her and for the sister

she must drive away. Her sister, beaten, had retreated to land. She had

crossed that patch of pebbly mud and into the tangled forest beyond. No web of

plants could stop the juggernaut that was a grendel. Her sister might find new

turf.

The grendel watched her from the southern shore. Food was scarce, and there

was the lake monster too.

Her sister was in the tangled trees, and into some kind of dust or mist. She

screamed once, and burst out of the trees in a spray of wood and vines. Even

the lake monster had never moved that fast. The grendel watched her streak

down the pebbly mudflat at the head of a dust-cloud comet.

The lake monster lifted her terrible head -- and let her pass.

She was nearly out of sight when she tumbled to a stop. She seemed little

more than a heap of bones. The grendel had never dared go for a closer look.

And beyond that place was the lake monster's favorite lurk.

No, the west shore was impossible even to the senseless being that the

grendel had once been. The route around the east shore was twice as far, twice

the distance in which the lake monster could find her...

She must have had just a trace of pattern-making ability, even then.

She had waited for a hard rain, then gone wide around the east shore. Prey

was fast and wary. On speed it could be caught. When the rain stopped she must

enter the lake to shed the heat, and out of the water before the lake monster

could come --

And so she had lived until she reached the river inlet.

The river was what she sought. She had arrived starving, but bottom feeders

had fed her for many days. Then came a sickness in her guts, that moved into

her head and inflated. For days she had known nothing but the pain in her

head.

And now she felt cold and weird, and her bones were stretching her skin taut,

and her mind was making patterns.

Way down there in silver-blue light: her own patch of water and land, with

too little food for herself or her spawn. Probably the lake monster had

already cleaned them out. Only one thing had been desirable about that place.

There she could taste the lake monster in the water, and gain some sense of

where she was.

Closer: the lake to her left, and on her right the pebbly mud, and the

tangled wood where her sister had turned to fog at a speed-enhanced run.

Closer yet: more pebbly mud and horsemanes behind, and one huge old horsemane

very near the water. The lake monster spent most of her time in the water

offshore, but when the woods were wet they could shield her too. Grendel spawn

could turn to grendels anywhere in the lake, and their surprise could be brief

and intense when the lake monster burst from the trees.

Here: she could see muddy river and know the food beneath. The river would

bring bottom feeders. She could eat now...and the lake monster would taste her

anywhere in the lake, and know she was here. If she had seen patterns then,

she would not have come here.

But she saw another pattern now.

The grendel bore her hunger. She watched the woods and the water. Of prey she

saw no sign, and no sign of the lake monster. The silver spear of light failed

to rise, but the strangeness of her world did not go away.

And so a day passed, and a night.

At midmorning of the following day, the grendel began to walk toward one

great horsemane isolated on the mud.

No sign of the lake monster.

At a moment that was nothing but guesswork, the grendel began to run.

This was the first puzzle she had ever solved, and she had no faith in it at

all. She ran, but she was not on speed. When a wave moved where no wave should

be, terror and vindication surged and then she was on speed. She was skating

on slick mud, her legs a blur, homing on the one isolated tree in a plume of

mud and gravel.

The lake monster came out of the water, screamed challenge, and was on speed.

The grendel veered right and dug in. She'd pass the tree on the right. If the

lake monster came straight at her, hit her broadside, she would be torn,

smashed, dead. She could see, feel her own death in the pattern! But a notch

more speed changed that, pulled her ahead, and now the lake monster would hit

the tree.

The lake monster saw it. Veered left. She'd strike the grendel after she

passed the tree.

Hah! The grendel veered left. She missed the tree by a toenail's width, just

behind the lake monster's spiked tail. The lake monster was turning in a spew

of gravel and dust, but falling behind for all that.

It slowed her for only a moment. She had been eating while sickness melted

the flesh from her daughter.

There was dust blowing out of the tangle forest as the grendel swept past

them, burning inside, her enemy far too close behind her. But the lake monster

swept through the dust, and the dust followed her like a comet tail.

Enough! The grendel veered out over the water. She could run on water if she

ran fast enough, but the speed was broiling her from inside. She looked back

once, and saw what she had hoped for. She ducked, and smashed into the water,

and sank, cooling.

She lifted her snorkel. Then, cautiously, her eyes.

The lake monster was a comet of dust running straight at her across the

water.

If the lake monster dived now she'd be free of the fog and the heat within,

but the grendel would have her. The lake monster didn't dive. Probably she

never thought of it. When she stopped, she was invisible in a restless dark

cloud.

The cloud drifted away. Red bones sank through water. The grendel gnawed at

them, and was still hungry. Hungry and triumphant. Now she would hunt the

shoreline where the lake monster no longer ruled.

PART 1

ICE ON THEIR MINDS

Youth holds no society with grief.

-EURIPIDES

Chapter 1

THE RETURN

The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and

the pessimist fears this is true.

-JAMES BRANCH CABELL, The Silver Stallion

"What in the hell is that?"

Jessica Weyland heard the words without recognizing the voice. It originated

just outside the stone walls of the Hold's guest bathroom, where she was

scrubbing her cheeks with ice-cold water piped from the Amazon Creek.

The bath was part of the Hold's guest suite, attached to a guest bedroom that

had been hers before she built her own place at Surf's Up. Toshiro Tanaka, her

previous evening's entertainment, still sprawled unconscious across the bed.

Sleep-cycle incompatibility prevented them from having anything but an

occasional fling. Too bad. Like many a musician, he had such good hands...

"Frozen bat turds! Will you look at it?"

Jessica ran toward the living room before thinking about what she'd heard.

Her long, deeply tanned and muscular legs ate the distance between bedrooms

and living room in their nine long strides. Her mind flew faster than her

feet. Kids paying us back for last night? Gotcha? No. They'd be pretending

horror, not astonished curiosity. No, this is something else.

Jessica was tall and blue-eyed, as Nordic as a glacier, with shoulder-length

blond hair, high cheekbones, and a large, cool mouth. She moved like the

athletic animal she was. The muscles in her calves bounced with every long

stride. She was unself-consciously naked: there had been no time to grab a

towel.

Her father, Cadmann Weyland, Colonel Cadmann Weyland, had built the Hold as a

fortress against monsters even before he understood the grendel threat. The

others called him paranoid and worse, even accusing him of faking a threat as

part of a power grab, even a military takeover of the colony. He left them

then, and built his home on a high ledge, digging into the side of Mucking

Great Mountain. Most of it was underground: cool in Avalon's winters, and warm

in her summers. Light slanted in through the Hold's louvered ceiling. The

living room was Paradise.

A green-tiled channel grooved the middle of the living room. The glacial

Amazon ran through that, right through the living room, a foot deep and four

feet wide. It had once been deeper and narrower there, but Jessica didn't

remember that. It was another of those facts she had been told, and which she

believed in the same way that she believed there was a solar system with a

yellower star and a planet named Earth.

A gently sloped tile shelf ran along part of the stream. The rest was fenced

off by a hedge that grew along the edge of the running water. The hedge was

composed of plants from both Camelot Island and the far reaches of Avalon, so

that the room was as much aborted and botanical garden as living space.

Fully half those weirdly shaped plants had thorns and spines. They weren't

really cactus, but resembled cactus more than they did any other kind of

Terran plant. Avalon plant life needed protection. Any defenseless life form

was instant grendel chow. Some plants had other protection: the violet-petaled

beauties with acid resin, tiny deep blue fruiting bulbs with astonishingly

active poison, carnivorous lilies that could turn a frog-sized creature to a

husk in forty-eight hours. The garden grew more lethal over the years as the

children of Cadmann Weyland's Hold grew more able to cope with them. The

plants came from everywhere -- Camelot Island's highlands, offshore islands,

even the mainland, all brought here to line the stream -- and despite the

garden's lethality it was beautiful.

From her earliest days Jessica thought the Hold was the most wonderful place

in the world. At present Cadmann, Mary Ann, and Sylvia were in the southern

thorn forests hunting specimens. The Hold and Cadmann's Bluff itself were

Jessica's and Justin's for the next day and a half. A safe place despite the

garden. A perfect place to begin the initiation of the Grendel Scouts. Later

they would be taken to the mainland for their real coming-of-age. There were

neither serpents nor scorpions in this paradise.

So who was doing all the yelling?

She was opening the front door when she saw it behind her. Something emerged

from the downstream edge of the Amazon's emerald streambed. It wriggled under

the lip of the living room's southern, downhill wall to come right into the

Arboretum. Something alive. Something thick-bodied and powerful. Its head

reminded her a little of a horse's, only stubbier. It pushed its way farther

in. The head melded into a broad, powerful neck that grew longer, and

longer...

A voice behind her said: "Hot damn! It's an eel!" Toshiro knelt by the side

of the Amazon to watch as the beast worked its rubbery length against the

current. It splashed cold water on Jessica's bare feet as it moved past. It

ignored them completely. Eventually the entire creature emerged into the

living room, fully sixteen feet long, and as thick as a horse's upper leg.

The front door slammed open, and two panting children ran in. One of them was

a small dark girl, Sharon McAndrews. She brandished a sharpened stick. Her

mouth and eyes were wide as she watched the eel wiggle sinuously toward the

living room's upstream opening. The other, a fourteen-year-old redheaded,

Larry Niven - Beowulf's Children

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