Niall said: “That’s impossible. I must leave here today.”
Simeon looked at him with amazement. “Leave? What are you talking about?”
“Hasn’t Doggins told you what happened?”
“I haven’t seen him today — he’s in the town hall.”
As Niall described how he killed the centipede, Simeon’s face became grim.
“Was it grey with black bands?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a hunting centipede all right. Their venom could kill an elephant. You were lucky.”
“I might not be so lucky next time. Or it might get into one of the children’s bedrooms. That’s why I can’t stay here.”
Simeon shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. It wouldn’t attack anyone but you.”
“How do you know?”
“They hunt by vibrations. It’s like a very fine sense of smell.”
“But how would it know my vibrations?”
“That’s something I don’t understand. I’m told there used to be an animal called a bloodhound. It could track anybody down once it had been given a sniff of something that belonged to him. These hunting centipedes can do the same kind of thing. But I don’t know how they pick up the scent in the first place — perhaps by some form of telepathy.”
“So I have to sleep with the doors and windows closed?”
Simeon smiled suddenly. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” He stood up. “I think I can give you something to solve the problem. Finish your breakfast.”
When he returned ten minutes later, Simeon was carrying a large wooden plant pot; the plant was concealed by sacking. He placed it under the window, then removed the sack. Niall stared with curiosity at the bright green plant whose sinuous tendrils seemed to be drooping with exhaustion. The plant was about five feet high, and it had a peculiar but not unpleasant smell, sweet and slightly medicinal. Apart from the tendrils, there were also fleshy yellow-green stalks, each one surmounted by a yellowish head, whose shape reminded Niall of the head of a snake. Niall leaned down to look more closely, then jumped back with an exclamation. Some of the green tendrils had moved towards him, like the pseudopods of a squid fungus.
Simeon laughed. “They’re quite harmless to human beings.”
He reached out towards the plant; one of the tendrils moved hesitantly, then curled round his finger, as if caressing it.
“What is it called?”
“I don’t know. My wife used to call it the viperweed. We brought the seeds back from the Delta. Watch.”
From his pocket Simeon took a large pillbox; a buzzing sound revealed that it imprisoned a fly. Making sure that the door was closed, Simeon removed the lid. The fly, a shining green bluebottle with a two-inch wing span, immediately buzzed up to the ceiling. For a few seconds, it flew furiously around the room, bumping into the walls. Then, at last, it detected the breeze from the window and flew towards it. What happened next was so swift that Niall was unable to follow it. The plant moved with the speed of a striking snake, and the fly vanished. Only a frantic and muffled buzz revealed that it was now inside one of the snake-like heads. The buzzing ceased almost immediately.
Simeon looked at it with a proprietary smile.
“They’re fascinating little things. With one of those near the window, you never have an insect in your house. Look.” From his pocket he took another pillbox; he removed the lid and inverted it on the floor. A brown dung beetle fell out on to its back; Simeon turned it over with his fingertip. “No, not that way.” He prodded the beetle until it walked towards the plant. While it was still more than two feet away, one of the green tendrils swooped down on it, and a second later the bewildered dung beetle was being lifted through the air, the end of the tendril coiled round its midriff like a python. It raised the beetle up to the head of the nearest stalk. This time, Niall was watching so closely that he was able to see what happened. The top of the head split open, revealing what looked like two rows of pointed white teeth. The tendril seemed to flick the beetle into the open mouth with a movement like a whip lash. Instantly the mouth closed, although a slight movement of the green skin revealed that the beetle was struggling frantically. Then, once again, the tendril dropped, and the whole plant became so totally immobile that it looked incapable of movement.
Niall said: “Do you think it could stop a four-foot centipede?”
“Certainly. I’ve seen it eat a large rat.”
Niall stared at it with morbid fascination.
“Would it be dangerous to a human being?”
“In the Delta, perhaps. Not here.”
“Why in the Delta?”
“They grow to four times the size there.”
“Why?”
Simeon shrugged. “The soil, perhaps. The place is seething and swarming with life, like a cheese with maggots. It’s as if nature had gone mad.” He gave the plant an affectionate pat. “But they’re quite pleasant creatures once you get used to them.”
When he had gone, Niall went and stood close to the plant. It cost him an effort not to flinch as the snake-like heads moved towards him, and the tendrils reached out and caressed his legs. It was a strange sensation, like being sniffed by some curious animal. After a few minutes, the plant seemed to lose interest, and once again became immobile. But when Niall reached out and scratched one of the heads, it seemed to press itself against his hand. There was something about this movement that Niall found deeply disturbing and puzzling, although he found it hard to pinpoint the source of his disquiet.
He was aroused from these reflections by the sound of metal-rimmed wheels on gravel; out of the window he could see a cart drawn by four charioteers, which came into the square at a brisk trot and halted in front of the town hall. The cart contained two people: a woman in the black uniform of a guard commander, and a blond-bearded man who wore the yellow tunic of the beetle-servants. As Niall watched, they mounted the steps and disappeared into the town hall. The charioteers pulled their cart into the shade, and sat down on the steps, mopping their foreheads.
Niall left the house by a side door, and crossed the grass towards them. As he came closer he realised, to his delight, that one of the charioteers was Massig. Massig recognised Niall at the same moment, and jumped to his feet, staring with open-mouthed astonishment.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were dead!”
Niall laughed. “You can see I’m not. Where did you hear that?”
“From one of Kazak’s charioteers. He said you’d died with the king.”
“So Kazak is dead?”
“Yes, he died in the explosion.”
Niall experienced a twinge of sadness. In spite of a certain feeling of mistrust, he had always liked Kazak.
They sat down together on the step. Niall asked:
“Who was that bearded man you brought?”
“That was Captain Manetho. He sailed in this morning with a cargo of explosives.”
Niall lowered his voice. “The spiders didn’t try to detain him?”
“Detain him?” Massig looked puzzled. “Why should they?”
Niall shrugged. “The beetles seem to think the spiders want to pick a quarrel.”
Massig shook his head. “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Were the spiders very angry about the explosion?”
“Angry?” Massig obviously felt that Niall was speaking in riddles. “Why should they be? It was an accident.” He gave Niall an odd look. “Wasn’t it?”
Niall said quickly: “Oh yes, I imagine so.”
At that moment, to Niall’s relief, they were interrupted by a girl who came out of the town hall; she was carrying a tray with refreshments for the charioteers. While Massig was drinking deeply from an earthenware vessel full of fruit juice, Niall seized the opportunity to slip away.
He stepped into the cool twilight of the town hall. It was full of beetles and human beings hurrying about their business. As he stood there, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, someone slapped him on the shoulder. It was Milo.
“Hello, Niall. You’re too late for the meeting of the stadion — it’s just finished.”
“What happened?”
Milo leaned forward and said in a low voice:
“They backed down, just as I expected.”
“Why?”
“The story got around that they were forcing Bildo to leave our city. You know many people regard him as a hero. So half the young people announced they’d go with him if he went away. That made the stadion think twice. . .”
“So what will happen now?”
“I don’t know. That depends on Bildo. Why don’t you ask him yourself — he’s over there.”
On the far side of the hallway, Doggins was deep in conversation with the blond-bearded man. When he saw Niall, he broke off.