Then, because he knew the power had its origin inside himself, Niall took control of the force, and deliberately terminated the experience. He had seen all he wanted to see. As the power ebbed, like a wave returning on itself, his body throbbed with exhaustion. He sighed deeply, allowing the fatigue to bathe him like a warm bath, then to obliterate his awareness.
As consciousness returned, he was aware of sunlight on his face and bare arms, and of a peculiar, light-headed sensation in the top of his skull. He opened his eyes and shrank with alarm; a huge bird was standing a few feet away, regarding him with mild astonishment; the curved beak looked big enough to peck his head off. But what startled Niall was that he was looking at two birds, and that although they were quite distinct, they were standing in the same place. He could clearly see this fierce creature, with its bald head and powerful claws; but superimposed on it was another bird, slightly larger and semi-transparent. This second bird was not at all fierce; it was obviously an amiable, good-tempered creature, and at the moment it was rather unsure of itself. As Niall stirred and sat up, the bird rose and flew away, disappearing over the jungle with slow flaps of its great wings.
Niall jumped to his feet and looked towards the east; the sun’s disc was half-way above the top of the mountain ridge, which indicated that it was at least an hour after dawn. A silver mist was rising above the trees, and it seemed to him that the jungle was exhaling a sigh of pleasure at the coming of the sun.
When he shaded his eyes and looked down towards the east river, he could clearly see the gap in the trees that Doggins had blasted with his Reaper, and the stationary object lying on the expanse of yellow mud was unmistakably Doggins.
A strong breeze was blowing from the sea, and he was glad of its clean freshness; although he had become accustomed to it, he still disliked the decaying stench of the Delta. He walked round the eastern edge of the hill until he found a place that was less steep than the others, and lowered himself down. In the bright sunlight it looked even more dangerous than by moonlight; at this point, a slip could plunge him down a thousand feet into the trees that edged the river. He took care not to look down, and instead concentrated his attention on each hand- and foothold. Moving diagonally, he worked his way round to the south face of the hill, and at last found himself standing on the curving track that led down into the jungle.
During the descent, his mind had been so concentrated that he saw nothing but what lay before his eyes. But as soon as he relaxed, he again became aware of the peculiar effect of double exposure. To begin with, he was aware of the surging force that flowed in waves through the earth, and he felt as if he was walking across the head of a sleeping giant. It was this force that made him conscious of two worlds at the same time, for as it flowed through the earth, he could follow its progress; this meant that, in some strange sense, the earth was transparent. It was exactly as if he possessed two sets of eyes, one of which saw the solid, material world, while the other could see through it to a deeper world of reality. As he reached the level of the treetops, birds flew up in alarm and hovered round him, squawking and flapping their wings. They were big and looked dangerous; but if he looked at them with his second set of eyes, they became as harmless as domestic animals; he could see that they were merely putting up a show to defend their territory, and had no intention of coming closer. A bat-like creature that regarded him balefully from the fork of a tall tree was altogether more dangerous; it had the face of a demon, and a soul that was full of savagery and violence; but when it met Niall’s gaze, it looked away. It sensed that he, too, was dangerous.
As he picked his way along his own trail through the jungle, he was astonished that he had found his way in the dark; there were many fallen trees, and the ground was full of deep ruts made by rainwater gushing downhill. He deliberately ignored his second pair of eyes, concentrating his attention on the ground. At one point, he was surprised to find his path blocked by a thick liana, more than a foot high; he had no recollection of climbing over it the night before. Then, as he came closer, it began to move, and he saw that it was a green snake, its mid-portion grotesquely swollen by some recently swallowed prey. By using his second pair of eyes, he could see that this prey was a pig-like creature, covered in black bristles, which were being slowly dissolved away by the powerful digestive juices of the snake. The python itself was curiously unfrightening; its consciousness was only slightly greater than that of the trees, and its life on the ground made it feel continually vulnerable. At the moment, it merely wanted to be allowed to sleep in peace.
This double vision, he realized, was merely an extension of his normal ability to still his soul and project himself into the minds of other creatures, but it had been developed to a new pitch of sharpness by the experiences of the past few hours. The communications of the empress plant had at first struck him as strange and ambiguous, but he had soon become so skilled in interpreting them that he seemed to hear them in human language. This same skill was now permitting him to grasp and interpret vibrations from the world around him so swiftly and spontaneously that he was not even aware that there was any interpretation involved. It seemed like direct vision. It also opened to him new worlds of possibilities, for he could sense that even double vision was a form of unconscious self-limitation. If he wanted to, he could have seen other levels of reality — treble vision, fourfold vision, even fivefold vision. He had never realised so clearly that normal human perception is a form of blindness.
When he emerged from the trees, he found himself standing on the bank of the river and looking directly across at Doggins. The water looked calm and smooth, but his double vision showed him that, a few feet below the surface, a big cayman was lying, staring up at the dim outline of his figure and hoping that he would come close enough to be dragged into the water. For a moment Niall wished that he still had his Reaper. Then it struck him that this was unnecessary; the reptile’s soul-mechanism was so crude that it was easy to implant into its mind the suspicion that this two-legged creature might be far more dangerous than he looked. The cayman sank quietly into the mud at the bottom, where it felt safely concealed.
Niall walked south along the river bank until he reached the place where he had crossed the night before. Here, where the water was shallow, there were no big predators; only hundreds of tiny creatures that lived under the fallen tree that partly blocked the stream at this point, and which looked like a horde of many colored fireflies as they darted around their home. But as Niall waded slowly across, his arms held above his head for balance, he was aware of the presence of some larger creature, a few hundred yards upstream, which launched itself gently out of the mud and began to swim towards him. This failed to respond to his suggestion that he was dangerous; but its nervous system was so crudely constructed that it was easy to confuse it with false messages that made it proceed very slowly; as Niall scrambled up the opposite bank — falling for a moment on all fours — he looked back and caught a brief glimpse of something that looked like a writhing mass of grey weed, caked with glutinous mud, which broke the surface for a moment as the current lifted it over the concealed log.
Doggins was lying on his back, his mouth open slightly, snoring softly; the metallic garment, which covered him from head to foot, cast a shadow over his face. Gently exploring his sleeping mind, Niall could sense that he was still suffering from exhaustion, and needed many more hours of sleep. But this was out of the question. This place was too dangerous.
Niall opened his pack, which was covered with dew, and took out his water bottle. The water was refreshingly chilly, the night must have been colder than he had realized. Then he chewed a hard biscuit, and took stock of the situation. The line of trees, with their tangled branches and interlocked roots, extended in both directions for many miles; to the south, they merged into the jungle; to the north, into marshland. Making a detour round them might take most of the day; it would be simpler if they could return by the way they came. The metallic garment would protect one of them. Would it be possible to use all the spare clothing to devise some makeshift garment that would protect the other? He laid out his blanket and spare tunic on the ground, then decided, regretfully, that it was beyond their skill. A good tailor might meet the challenge, but they did not even possess a needle and thread.