The Mind Pool

the Pipe-Rilla leaned closer to follow the interaction. Chan knew that both Angel and S’greela could hear frequencies well outside the human range. He would have to let them work in peace now, and receive his briefing when the initial communication attempt was finished. He stepped away from the others and stared around him at the tunnel walls.

They were close to a branch point where the descending shaft split and continued down as two separate paths. He had not seen that before, nor heard of it in any of the records left by Team Alpha. It suggested a possible system of pathways through Travancore’s jungle more complicated than they had realized.

Chan glanced back at Shikari and S’greela. He was tempted to call to them, but they were both engrossed in Angel’s efforts at talking with the giant native animal. He walked a little farther down the sloping tunnel, and shone his light along each branch in turn.

They were obviously quite different. One continued steadily down toward the distant surface of Travancore, five kilometers below. The other was narrower and less steep. It curved off slowly to the left with hardly any gradient at all. If it went on like that, it would form a horizontal road through the high forest.

Chan went that way and took a few paces along it. He had no intention of losing sight or sound of the other team members.

After only three steps he paused. It was very confusing. There seemed to be something like a dark mist obscuring the more distant parts of the corridor. When he shone his light that way there was no answering reflection.

He hesitated, but after a moment or two he turned to start back the way that he had come. Whatever that might be in front of him, he was not going to face it alone. He had weapons on him, but more man that he wanted the support of the other team members — S’greela’s strength, Shikari’s mobility, and Angel’s cool reasoning.

As he was turning he heard a whisper behind him.

“Chan!”

He looked back. Something had stepped forward from the dark mist, and was standing now in the middle of the narrow pathway.

It had the shape of a human. Chan took another step back toward the other team members as he shone his light at the figure in the tunnel.

And then he could not move at all.

It was Leah.

Chan was ready to call out to her when he remembered Mondrian’s warning. Leah was dead, and what Chan had to be seeing was an illusion — something created in his mind by the Morgan Construct.

As though to confirm his fear, the figure of Leah drifted upward like a pale ghost. It hung unsupported, a couple of feet above the floor of the tunnel. The shape raised one pale arm and waved in greeting. “Chan!”

“Leah?” He fought back the urge to run forward and embrace the form hovering in front of him.

“No, Chan.” The dark head moved from side to side. “Not now. It would be too dangerous now. Say goodbye to me. But don’t stop loving me, Chan. Love is the secret.”

Ignoring all the warnings of common sense, Chan found that he was taking another step along the tunnel towards her. He paused, dizzy and shaking.

The figure held her arms palms-out toward him, as though pushing him away. “Go back, Chan. Not now. It would be dangerous.” ;

She waved farewell. The slim figure stepped sharply backward and was swallowed up in the dark cloud. The apparition was gone.

Chan was too stunned to move, until suddenly a sense of his own danger overcame inertia. He turned and staggered back along the tunnel.

Nimrod. The Construct cannot be far away from here. It can produce delusions within organic brains, change what you hear and see. Are the others safe? Chan was running. In just a second or two he was back to the place where he had left the team members.

The tunnel was deserted. He paused, and stared along it in both directions. There was no sign of S’greela, Shikari, or Angel. No sign of the great caterpillar-snake that they had been holding.

Where was the team?

Chan began to run again, back up the spiraling tunnel, back to the sunlight, back to the doubtful safety of the tent in the upper layers. As he ran the face and form of dead Leah hovered always in front of his eyes.

Chan arrived at the tent convinced of every form of disaster. Nimrod had destroyed the others, and somehow overlooked him. Or the others had known that Nimrod was present, and they had retreated, leaving Chan to fend for himself. At the very least, if they had managed to make it back to the tent they would be frantic with alarm at his absence. They would be terrified and disorganized, not sure how to organize themselves to go off again and search for him in the tunnels.

The atmosphere in the tent was certainly tense. But no one was worrying about Chan — they hardly seemed to notice his arrival! He grabbed S’greela by one of her forelimbs. She turned and gave him a little nod of acknowledgement.

“It is good that you have returned. We are not sure what to do next. There has been a bad — a bad misunderstanding — ”

“Misunderstanding!” growled Angel’s communications box.

“—a misunderstanding with the Coromar.” S’greela motioned toward the side of the tent, where the great caterpillar creature was stretching its length along the flexible wall. “That seems to be the group name that these beings give to themselves.”

The animal did not react to its name, but it seemed quite at home in the tent. It was free to move, but making no attempt to escape. Instead, the long mouth was chomping contentedly on a great bale of vegetation.

Chan was totally confused. The scene was so peaceful, the very opposite of what he had imagined. “A misunderstanding?”

“I am afraid so. The animal is not very smart. As soon as Angel was able to speak with it, it agreed to come along with us provided that we would feed it when we got here.” The Pipe-Rilla shook her head testily. “Really, food seems to be the only thing it cares about at all. Naturally we agreed, since we have ample provisions with us.”

“So what’s the problem?” Chan took a closer look at the Coromar, contentedly browsing. “You gave it plenty of food, didn’t you?”

“Well, now it has all it wants. But when we first arrived here, Vayvay — that is the name of this Coromar — did not seem to understand that we would have to bring food to it from storage. It did not want to wait.”

“It tried to leave?’

“No. It tried to eat Angel.”

Chan stared at Angel, sitting motionless at the other side of the tent, as far away as possible from the Coromar. The side fronds were all lying limp against the barrel body, and the head fronds were tightly closed. Angel was sulking.

“Surely the rest of you tried to stop it?”

“We did stop it. All that happened was that Vayvay took a bite at Angel’s middle section — one little bite.”

“It was quite understandable,” added Shikari. The Tinker, its parts reunited, sounded in excellent spirits. It came rustling across to Chan’s side. “After all, even Angel will not deny that the Chassel-Rose is a vegetable. And the real confusion was the fault of the communicator that Angel wears. As S’greela says, Vayvay is not very smart. It apparently assumed that the communicator was the intelligent being, since that was the part that did all the talking. Vayvay thought that the rest of Angel must be some sort of mobile food supply.”

“A perfectly natural assumption, actually,” said S’greela. “To put it as Angel might have put it,” concluded Shikari, “one man’s meat is another man’s mid-section.”

There was an outraged crackle from Angel’s communicator. “We are not amused. This is no matter for joking. If we had not moved quickly, it would have been far more than one bite.”

“All right, that’s enough.” Chan went across to sit down wearily next to Angel. “Cut out the bickering. We