Charles Sheffield - The Mind Pool

She did not look down. “We’ve no time for that now. Can’t you see we’re in a big hurry?”

The man laughed, but it was not like a real laugh. “Damn right, we’re in a hurry. But maybe this is as good as any place. Let’s get on with it.”

Mummy stopped, and finally glanced down at him. “All right, Essy. Uncle Darren and I are going to be busy for a little while. I want you to sit down right here, and wait quietly until we come back.”

“I want to go with you.” He held her tighter around the legs. “I don’t want to stay here.”

“Sorry, Big-boy, but we can’t do it that way.” Uncle Darren crouched down. He was smiling. “We won’t be long. You just wait here until me and your Mom get back. Look, if you’re good you can have this to play with while we’re gone. See?”

Uncle Darren was holding up the little electric lamp, the one they had used in camp the previous night. It had been a fun time, the three of them all safe and cozy in the tent, and Mummy laughing a lot. She wouldn’t let him crawl in with her, but she sounded all warm and giggly and happy, especially when she was snuggled under a blanket and Uncle Darren was telling a bedtime story.

He reached out his hand for the little lamp.

“Wait a minute, watch me do it.” Uncle Darren worked the control. “See? Switch on — switch off. Switch on — switch off Think you can do it by yourself?”

He nodded, took the lamp, and set it down on the hard earth. He squatted beside it, and turned it on. “That’s my Big-boy.” Uncle Darren stood up and began to walk away. “Come on, Lucy, he’s settled. He’ll be fine now.”

He stared after them as they moved into the long grass. They had their heads together, and they were talking quietly again as they had talked the previous night. He bent down to the lamp, wanting to please Mummy by doing whatever would make her happy with him.

The little light flickered on and off as he pressed the switch. It seemed brighter than when Uncle Darren had worked it.

He looked up and all around. The sky was a darker blue, and he could see a few stars. They were creeping out, one by one. They were just like tiny lamps themselves, but they did not give any real light.

He felt the urge to run after Mummy and Uncle Darren. But he must not do that. Mummy would get mad. He would get another beating, from her or from Uncle Darren.

He stared the way that they had gone. Darker now. If only the tent were here, to crawl inside. Last night he had felt so safe and snug, even when the light was turned way low. He could hear them, whispering in the darkness. It made him so warm and contented.

“Are you absolutely sure?” That was Mummy, in the same slurry voice. “I have to be absolutely sure.”

“Course I am. I checked the whole thing with the game authorities. I pretended to be scared.”

“I thought all the animals were controlled.”

“That’s what the advertisements say, but the controls go off when it’s really dark. That’s why they always tell you to keep a light on all night in the tent.

“What do you think is out there? Right now.”

“Hey, how would I know? Get your mind off that sort of stuff”

There was a rustle from where Mummy lay, and she giggled. “You! You’re all hands. But what might be out there?”

“Lions, maybe. Leopards. Rhinos.” (That made him listen harder. He had seen pictures of those animals.) “And jackals and hyenas and vultures. That’s why we don’t go outside in the dark. Make a noise out there, or go running around, and there’d be nothing tomorrow to collect and take back. Hey, why the questions all of a sudden? I thought we had it agreed.”

“I just want to be absolutely sure it will work. Otherwise we’d have been better off with a straight sale. There’s good money for a healthy one, down in the warrens.”

“Not a hundredth as much as we’ll get. They’ll pay just to keep us quiet. Here, Miss Fidgety, you need a bit more of this.”

There was a clink of glass, and the gurgling sound of pouring liquid. Uncle Darren laughed. “They’ll pay, of course they will. What sort of publicity would it give the game reserve if we wanted to play it for news? Wandered away for a few minutes, frantic mother, desperate search. Maybe even a mental breakdown afterwards. That would be news.”

“Sshh. Watch what you’re saying.”

“So what, for Christ’s sake? At his age.”

“He’s very smart. He could be listening, and he remembers everything.”

“Naw, he’s asleep. Very smart, eh? How did he pick you for a mother?’

“Don’t start that again. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Don’t you pretend to be so smart, either. If you’re so clever, how did you get hooked into that idiot marriage contract, you and the bitch?”

“Come off it, Lucy. That’s all over, I don’t even think about her any more. Look, once we get some money there’ll be no more false starts. You and me, right? And . … you know …”

“What are you doing/ You’re awful.” But Mummy did not sound angry. “You said I was all hands. I just want to prove that’s not all I am.”

“Again?” Mummy giggled. “You. You’re a monomaniac.”

The light from the lamp in the tent dwindled to an even lower level. There was a rustling, and something like a soft groan from Mummy. Uncle Darren began a soft, regular grunting sound that was not his usual snoring …

And now it was nearly night again. Over beyond the top of the high grass he could see the big hill, as far away as ever. It always seemed to be the same distance, and when they walked it moved along with them. When it was close to dark he could see the smoke on top of it. It was there now, with the red sun behind it.

He stepped a little way in that direction, then came back. The grass was too tall, too frightening.

The sun seemed to be dropping down into the top of the grass, melting into it. Suddenly he could not see the grass itself. The sky was almost black, with stars scattered bright across it.

“Mummy.” He shouted as loud as he could into the swallowing dark, and started to run in the direction in which they had gone. Then he thought of the lamp, left behind him on the ground. He hurried back for it and turned it on. It threw a bright circle all around him, except behind his back. When he turned his head to look he saw a wedge of darkness, a long shadow cast by his own body. He moved backwards with the lamp, and the circle of light moved with him.

That lighted circle had become the whole world. Beyond its edge he began to hear the night noises. There were mutterings and growls in the darkness, the chuckling of madmen just out of sight. He struggled to see anything beyond the shadowed perimeter. (“Lions and leopards and rhinos, jackals and hyenas and vultures …” Uncle Darren’s words were clear in his head. “Make a noise out there, or go running around, and there’d be nothing tomorrow to collect and take back…”)

He shouldn’t have shouted like that. He mustn’t shout. Where could Mummy be? He had never been alone before.

He began to weep, slow, silent tears that trickled down his cheeks and into his mouth. He could taste their salt.

He wanted to scream for Mummy, but he knew that he must not. Behind him there was a slithering noise, and the soft rustle of moving grass. (Lions and leopards and rhinos, jackals and hyenas and vultures.) He held the lamp tight, and started forward across the clearing away from the noises. The edge of darkness pursued him. He thought that he heard new noises coming from in front.