Read Online A Princess of The Linear Jungle by Paul Di Filippo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Paul Di Filippo
Ads: Link
the rate of roughly three Blocks per year. The citizens of Hakelight did not believe in the threat immediately, so construction of the Wall did not commence right away. Yet when the Wall was finally finished, people say, the Jungle already lapped right up against the lowest courses of stone. So if you do the math, you see that it must have taken, um, thirty or forty years to finish the Wall.”
Professor Durian Vinnagar chimed in. “Comparative studies of chisel marks between the bottommost and topmost courses, taking into account metallurgical advances and shifting masonry styles, seem to indicate a period of construction equalling thirty-seven-point-eight years, plus or minus one-point-five.”
Scoria rolled his eyes. “Yes, as I said, between thirty and forty years!”
Arturo Scoria’s touchiness was hard for him to sustain, however, even when subtly needled by his rival. For their procession down Broadway, through Colglazier and Hakelight, had been an undeniable triumph. Over the course of about twelve hours, with frequent sanitary, alimentary and ceremonial stops, the Expeditionary force had been seen and cheered by hundreds of thousands of citizens. The acclaim was like heady wine to Scoria, and to Merritt and the others as well. Even Cady Rachis, used to being the center of applause, had revelled in the outpourings.
The charabanc had delivered the party to this barren interzone, to the surprise of everyone save their leader.
“I’ve determined,” said Scoria, “that we’ll camp out here for the next few days, until our supplies are all accumulated, rather than take upresidence in any hotel. I want us to get used to roughing it, and also to build up some psychic affinity with our destination. This is as close as we can get until the Samuel Smallhorne delivers us into the actual Jungle Blocks.”
That vessel had made good time, and now bobbed placidly at the Slip closest to the interzone. Captain Canebrake stood gamely ready to perform his part of the mission, registering neither approbation nor disdain for the dangerous assault.
Four tents had been erected. One for the cyclists, one for Cady and Ransome, one for Peart and Vinnagar, and one for Scoria and Merritt.
Balsam Troutwine, however, had secured—with Swazeycape monies—a luxury suite at the nearby Heatherlake Hotel. The practical-minded victualler was not planning to accompany them any further; after all, what use would his commercial skills and contacts be, after he had outfitted them with provisions here?
Troutwine had sidled up to Merritt in a moment of semi-isolation during the organized chaos of arrival at the interzone and whispered to her, “The splendid beds at the Heatherlake are reputed to confer enormous energies when used properly. May I suggest— oof! ”
Troutwine’s grunt was occasioned by Merritt’s savage stiff-fingered jab into his ribs. Rubbing his injured area while maintaining a cosmopolitan smile, Troutwine bowed to her and retreated.
Good riddance! thought Merritt.
Peart and Ransome had assembled a simple but satisfying supper of ham and roast beef sandwiches, soup and fruit, and now the party sat contemplatively around their rude, nighted hearth, the true enormity of what they intended finally sinking in.
Peart’s remark on the weather was not met with any great discussion, and Merritt sensed that the rest of the group shared her tiredness. It had been a long, exhiliratingexhilarating day. Even though they were a mere sixty or seventy miles from Wharton, they seemed transported to the legendary Low-Hundreds.
Merritt stood up and stretched, intending to kick off a general retreat to their foam mattresses.
At that moment a savage drumming filled the air, punctured within human whoops and wails! The rapid beats of the barbaric alien music sent Merritt’s pulse racing.
Clutching Ransome, Cady Rachis said, “Are we hearing the savages beyond the Wall?”
Dan Peart cocked his ear, then said, “Naw. It’s just
Professor Durian Vinnagar chimed in. “Comparative studies of chisel marks between the bottommost and topmost courses, taking into account metallurgical advances and shifting masonry styles, seem to indicate a period of construction equalling thirty-seven-point-eight years, plus or minus one-point-five.”
Scoria rolled his eyes. “Yes, as I said, between thirty and forty years!”
Arturo Scoria’s touchiness was hard for him to sustain, however, even when subtly needled by his rival. For their procession down Broadway, through Colglazier and Hakelight, had been an undeniable triumph. Over the course of about twelve hours, with frequent sanitary, alimentary and ceremonial stops, the Expeditionary force had been seen and cheered by hundreds of thousands of citizens. The acclaim was like heady wine to Scoria, and to Merritt and the others as well. Even Cady Rachis, used to being the center of applause, had revelled in the outpourings.
The charabanc had delivered the party to this barren interzone, to the surprise of everyone save their leader.
“I’ve determined,” said Scoria, “that we’ll camp out here for the next few days, until our supplies are all accumulated, rather than take upresidence in any hotel. I want us to get used to roughing it, and also to build up some psychic affinity with our destination. This is as close as we can get until the Samuel Smallhorne delivers us into the actual Jungle Blocks.”
That vessel had made good time, and now bobbed placidly at the Slip closest to the interzone. Captain Canebrake stood gamely ready to perform his part of the mission, registering neither approbation nor disdain for the dangerous assault.
Four tents had been erected. One for the cyclists, one for Cady and Ransome, one for Peart and Vinnagar, and one for Scoria and Merritt.
Balsam Troutwine, however, had secured—with Swazeycape monies—a luxury suite at the nearby Heatherlake Hotel. The practical-minded victualler was not planning to accompany them any further; after all, what use would his commercial skills and contacts be, after he had outfitted them with provisions here?
Troutwine had sidled up to Merritt in a moment of semi-isolation during the organized chaos of arrival at the interzone and whispered to her, “The splendid beds at the Heatherlake are reputed to confer enormous energies when used properly. May I suggest— oof! ”
Troutwine’s grunt was occasioned by Merritt’s savage stiff-fingered jab into his ribs. Rubbing his injured area while maintaining a cosmopolitan smile, Troutwine bowed to her and retreated.
Good riddance! thought Merritt.
Peart and Ransome had assembled a simple but satisfying supper of ham and roast beef sandwiches, soup and fruit, and now the party sat contemplatively around their rude, nighted hearth, the true enormity of what they intended finally sinking in.
Peart’s remark on the weather was not met with any great discussion, and Merritt sensed that the rest of the group shared her tiredness. It had been a long, exhiliratingexhilarating day. Even though they were a mere sixty or seventy miles from Wharton, they seemed transported to the legendary Low-Hundreds.
Merritt stood up and stretched, intending to kick off a general retreat to their foam mattresses.
At that moment a savage drumming filled the air, punctured within human whoops and wails! The rapid beats of the barbaric alien music sent Merritt’s pulse racing.
Clutching Ransome, Cady Rachis said, “Are we hearing the savages beyond the Wall?”
Dan Peart cocked his ear, then said, “Naw. It’s just
Similar Books
