Free Hunter's Run by George R. R. Martin Page B

of intense cold. An odd
quivering shock ran up and down his body, as though someone were tracing his
nervous system with feather fingers. His vision dimmed for a heartbeat, then
came back. Maneck lowered him to the ground.
     
    The cable was now embedded in his
neck. Fighting nausea, he reached up and took hold of it, feeling it pulse in
his hands. It was warm to the touch, like human flesh. He pulled at it
tentatively, then tugged harder. He felt the flesh of his throat move when he
tugged. To rip it free would obviously be as difficult as tearing off his own
nose. The cable pulsed again, and Ramon realized that it was pulsing in time to
the beating of his heart. As he watched, it seemed to darken slowly, as if it
were filling with his blood.
     
    He saw with horror that the
opposite end of the cable had somehow linked itself to the alien that had held him,
blending into its right wrist. Maneck. He was on a leash. A hunting dog for
demons.
     
    ‘The sahael will not
injure you, but it will help to resolve your contradictions,’ the thing in the
pit said, as if sensing his distress but failing to understand it. ‘You should
welcome it. It will help to protect you from aubre. Should you manifest aubre, you will be corrected. Like this.’
     
    Ramon found himself on the floor,
though he did not remember falling. Only now that the pain had passed could he
look back at it and realize that it had been the worst pain he had ever
experienced, as a swimmer turns to look back at a wave that has passed over his
head. He didn’t remember screaming, but his throat was raw, and it almost
seemed as if the echo of his shriek was still reverberating from the chamber
walls. He caught his breath, and then retched. He knew that he would do
whatever was required to prevent that from happening again, anything at all,
and for the first time since he woke in darkness, Ramon Espejo felt truly
ashamed.
     
    I will kill you all, Ramon
thought. Somehow, I will cut this thing out of my throat, and then I will come
and kill you all.
     
    ‘School yourself,’ the pale alien
said. ‘Correct aubre, and even such a flawed thing as yourself may
achieve cohesion or even coordinate level.’
     
    It took Ramon some time to
realize that this gibberish had been a dismissal: a stern but kindly
admonition, hell fire threatened, the prospect of redemption dangled, and go
forth and sin no more. The sonofabitch was a missionary!
     
    Maneck lifted Ramon back to his
feet and nudged him toward a tunnel. The fleshy leash - the sahael - shrank
to match whatever distance was between them. Maneck made a sound that he couldn’t
interpret and apparently gave up gentle coaxing. The alien moved briskly
forward, the sahael tugging now at Ramon’s throat. He had no choice but
to follow, like a dog trotting at its master’s heel.
     
    And you, mi amigo, Ramon
thought, staring at Maneck’s indifferent back, will be the very first to die.
     
    * * * *

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    Back through the tunnels they went, through cavern after cavern,
through rhythmic noise, billowing shadow, and glaring blue light. Ramon walked
leadenly, like an automaton, pulled along by Maneck, the tether in his neck
feeling heavy and awkward. The chill air leached the heat from his body, and
even the work of walking wasn’t enough to keep him warm.
     
    As he stumbled along, in the
privacy of his mind, Ramon searched for hope.
     
    How long would it be before Elena
noticed his absence? Months, at least. Or she might think he’d gone off again,
down to Nuevo Janeiro without her, to file his reports and collect his fees and
keep his money for himself. Or run off on a drunken spree with some other
woman. Rather than start a search for him, she was more likely to work herself
into a blind rage and go fuck some hairy prospector from a bush bar or rum
shack in revenge. Likewise, Manuel Griego would expect him to be in the field
for three or four weeks at the least. Ramon silently berated himself