The trees paid them no attention. Apparently, the instinct to save their fellows was dominating the need to kill and eat. However, the plants were so closely spaced that there was no room for the five people to get through the ranks.
They looked up the hill. This side was vertical now and beginning to bulge at the top. Hot air radiated from the hill.
“The roots of the grass will keep that overhang from falling right away,” Kickaha said. “But for how long? When it does come down, we’ll be wiped out.”
The plants moved toward the tangle, side by side, the tips of their branches touching. Those nearest the humans moved a little to their right to avoid bumping into them. But the outreaching tentacles made the humans nervous.
After five minutes, the apex of the hill was beginning to look like a mushroom top. It wouldn’t be long before a huge chunk tore loose and fell upon them.
Anana said, “Like it or not, Kickaha, we have to use the beamer.”
“You’re thinking the same thing I am? Maybe we won’t have to cut through every one between us and open ground. Maybe those things burn?”
Urthona said, “Are you crazy? We could get caught in the fire!”
“You got a better suggestion?”
“Yes. I think we should adjust the beamer to cutting and try to slice our way out.”
“I don’t think there’s enough charge left to do that,” Anana said. “We’d find ourselves in the middle of this mess. The plants might attack us then. We’d be helpless.”
“Burn a couple,” Kickaha said. “But not too near us.”
Anana rotated the dial in the inset at the bottom of the grip. She aimed the weapon at the back of a tree five yards to her right. For a few seconds there was no result. Then the bark began smoking. Ten seconds later, it burst into flames. The plant did not seem immediately aware of what was happening. It continued waddling toward the tangle. But those just behind stopped. They must have smelled the smoke, and now their survival instinct-or program-was taking over.
Anana set three others on fire. Abruptly, the nearest ranks behind the flaming plants toppled. Those behind them kept on moving, rammed into them, and knocked a number down.
The ranks behind these were stopped, their tentacles waving. Then, as if they were a military unit obeying a soundless trumpet call to retreat, they turned. And they began going as fast as they could in the opposite direction.
The blazing plants had stopped walking, but their frantically thrashing tentacles showed that they were aware of what was happening. The flames covered their trunks, curled and browned the leaves, shot off from the leaf-covered stems projecting from the tops of the trunks. Their dozen eyes burned, melted, ran like sap down the trunk, hissed away in the smoke.
One fell and lay like a Yule log in a fireplace. A second later, the other two crashed. Their legs moved up and down, the broad round heels striking the ground.
The stink of burning wood and flesh sickened the humans.
But those ahead of the fiery plants had not known what was happening. The wind was carrying both the smoke and the pheromones of panic away from them. They continued to the jam until the press of bodies stopped them. Those in the front ranks were trying to pull up the fallen, but the lack of room prevented them.
“Burn them all!” Red Ore shouted, and he was seconded by his brother, Urthona.
“What good would that do?” Kickaha said, looking disgustedly at them. “Besides, they do feel pain, even if they don’t make a sound. Isn’t that right, Urthona?”
“No more than a grasshopper would,” the Lord said.
“Have you ever been a grasshopper?” Anana said.
Kickaha started trotting, and the others followed him. The passage opened was about twenty feet broad, widening as the retreaters moved slowly away. Suddenly, McKay shouted, “It’s falling!”
They didn’t need to ask what it was. They sprinted as fast as they could. Kickaha, in the lead, was quickly left behind. His legs still hurt, and the pain in his chest increased. Anana took his hand and pulled him along.