Africa Zero Read Online Free

say. For everyone it is their own survival
which is of most importance. You, of course, can take this moral high ground
because survival for you is so easy.”
    She
had me there. There was no getting away from it. I could have stood up then and
gone my way and done what I had to do and in a century or so she would have
been so much decaying matter. Then, for reasons other than my purported morals,
I decided I wanted her as a companion. I saw that here was a woman who might
counter the greatest threat to my life, which was boredom.
    Jethro
Susan breakfasted on cold mammoth meat while I looked on. When she was finished
she took up her pack and looked at me in readiness.
    “We
follow the trails of the herds south to the plains,” I said, standing also and
taking up my pack.
    * * *
    And
so we set out, with me leading the way, pushing through the jungle until we
crossed a mammoth trail as wide as a three-lane motorway, where the chewed
remains of cycads littered the crushed vines, and where hundredweight piles of
dung swarmed with busy scarab beetles. We left the Pykani dozing in the trees,
but that night they came to speak with me and play a game with red seeds on a
gridwork board while Jethro Susan slept. As we played and talked I wondered how
rationalized my reasons were for allowing her along and what the Pykani thought
of my delaying for her. That night I asked Spitfire.
    “It
is our wish-that you keep Jethro Susan with you.”
    I
was surprised, though I should not have been, obviously there was some sort of
bond here. I waited. Spitfire continued. “She is sworn to the herd and we have
braided debt with her. We wish her the opportunity to repay.”
    “Only
those who partake of the sustenance can be sworn to the herd. She drinks
blood?”
    “It
is so. We saw her when she had left JMCC. She was being hunted by the GAV
himself and had not time to hunt for herself. She ran far and craftily while we
watched and nearly killed the GAV with her rifle. He gave up on her for easier
prey to the east. She could barely walk by then, but she still had her rifle,
and then she came upon one of the little Thunderers.”
    Hurricane
took up the dialogue. “She raised her rifle and we were ready to fall on her,
but she did not shoot. She lowered her rifle and told the little one to go in
peace. Then she collapsed.”
    I
nodded—so and thus, at the edge of starvation she had refused to kill one of
the baby mammoth for meat. I wondered why. In such a situation I would have
killed, but the point was moot.
    “We
came to her then and she was as weak as a fledgling. We gave her the
fledgling’s drink. The blood of Thunderers restored her.”
    I
winced at that: regurgitated blood.
    “Hence
her swearing to the herd,” I said. I looked to where she lay. She was awake, I
could tell, but she did not move. “How did the debt become braided?”
    “Twice
now she has led corporate hunts astray. Once she killed one of her own to
prevent him killing. And we saved her from pursuit by driving an old bull to
stamp a JMCC ground car.”
    I
smiled and wondered just how long she had been with the Pykani. I had seen
stranger matches.
    * * *
    On
our third night-time stop Spitfire and her father flew in with news for us just
as Jethro Susan was bedding herself down. They swept in, to land in a small
clearing next to the one we had made for the fire, and with their eyes averted,
they approached. I gathered it was their intention to be off again, else they would
have been more sociable. But they were nocturnal by nature and did not want to
ruin their night vision with the light of the fire.
    “What
is it?” I asked, expecting news of more dead mammoth.
    “The
herds move to the east,” said Spitfire.
    I
waited.
    Her
father said, “In the east there are large cycads and by going there they miss
difficult terrain. It has always been so.”
    “We’ll
follow their trail, as we have been.”
    Spitfire
shook her head regretfully. “In a few days they will