Now, with a luck that he did not deserve—he really felt he deserved nothing good—he was within reach of more iron than he could possibly have hoped for. Not that that had kept him from hoping.
He needed men with knowledge. Engineers who would know how to treat the meteorite iron, get it out, melt it down, reshape it. And engineers and technicians for the hundred other things needed.
He toed Joe Miller’s ribs and said, “Get up, Joe. It’ll be raining soon.”
The titanthrop grunted and rose like a tower out of a fog and stretched. Starlight glinted on his teeth. He followed Sam across the deck, the bamboo planks creaking under the eight hundred pounds. From below, somebody cursed in Norse.
The mountains on both sides were covered with clouds now, and the darkness was spreading over the valley and shutting off the insane glitter of twenty thousand giant stars and glowing gas sheets. Soon it would rain hard for half an hour, and then the clouds would disappear.
Lightning streaked on the eastern bank; thunder bellowed. Sam stopped. Lightning always made him afraid, or, rather, the child in him afraid. Lightning streaked through him and showed him the haunted and haunting faces of those he had injured or insulted or dishonored and behind them were blurred faces reproaching him for nameless crimes. Lightning twisted through him; then he believed in an avenging God out to burn him alive, to drown him in searing pain. Somewhere in the clouds was the Wrathful Retributor, and He was looking for Sara Clemens.
Joe said. “There’th thunder thomevhere farther down The River. No! It ain’t thunder! Lithen! Can’t you hear it! It’th thomething funny, like thunder but different.”
Sam listened while his skin prickled with cold. There was a very faint rumble downRiver. He got even colder as he heard a louder rumble from upRiver. “What the hell is it?” “Don’t get thcared, Tham,” Joe said. “I’m vith you.” But he was shivering, too.
Lightning spread a filamented whiteness on the east bank. Sam jumped and said, “Jesus! I saw something flicker!”
Joe moved next to him and said, “I thaw it! It’th the thyip! You know, the vun I thaw above the tower. But it’th gone!”
Joe and Sam stood silent, peering into the darkness. Lightning exploded again, and this tune there was no white eggshape high above The River.
“It flickered out of nothing and went back to nothing. Like a mirage,” Sam said. “If you hadn’t seen it, too, I’d have thought it was an illusion.”
Sam awoke on the deck. He was stiff, cold and confused. He rolled over and squinted his eyes at the sun just clearing the eastern range.
Joe was on his back beside him, and the helmsman was sleeping beside the wheel.
But it was not this that brought him to his feet. The gold of the sun had faded out as he brought his gaze down; green was everywhere. The muddied plains and mountains, with straws and stubs of debris, were gone. There was short grass on the plains, tall grass and bamboo on the hill, and the giant pine, oak, yew and irontree everywhere on the hills.
“Business as usual,” Sam muttered, wisecracking, though unconsciously, even in his shock. Something had put all aboard the Dreyrugr asleep, and while they were unconscious, the incredible work of clearing off the mud and replanting the vegetation had been done. This section of The River was reborn!
8
He felt insignificant, as weak and helpless as a puppy. What could he, or any human, do to combat beings with powers so vast they could perform this miracle?
Yet there had to be an explanation, a physical explanation. Science and the easy control of vast forces had done this; there was nothing supernatural about it.
There was one comforting hope. One of the unknown beings might be on the side of mankind. Why? In what mystical battle?
By then the entire ship was aroused. Bloodaxe and von Richthofen came up on deck at the same time. Bloodaxe frowned at seeing the German there because he had not authorized him to be on the poopdeck. But the sight of the vegetation shook him so much that he forgot to order him off.