The Long War

bird. Jansson shivered again, having no real idea what she was getting into.
    She turned back to McCool. ‘Tell me one more thing. That beagle, Snowy, was carrying a stone-tipped spear – and a ray gun.’
    Sally grunted. ‘Actually it looked like a compact laser projector.’
    ‘We just got here. But I don’t see any cities, any planes in the sky. How did some kind of Stone Age warrior get a laser gun?’
    Sally said to McCool, ‘From some other world, stepwise. From you kobolds. Right? So is that your angle here?’
    The kobold grinned again. ‘Beagles not ss-tep. Smart but no toolss. Only ss-tone. Buy tool-ss from us-ss, all kinda stuff.’
    ‘Including a weapon,’ Sally murmured, ‘that looked like it came from a society more advanced even than Datum Earth. Where did you get it, monkey boy?’
    ‘Dug up,’ Finn McCool said simply, and he grinned, and would say no more.
    That approaching dust plume resolved into a cart, a heavy frame of wood running on four solid wooden wheels that seemed to be rimmed with rusty iron. Another beagle, perhaps slighter than Snowy, stood on the cart’s bed, wielding reins. Taller than Jansson, taller even than Snowy, the bird things had fat feathered bodies with stubby wings, muscular legs, feet tipped with claws like sickles, long pillar-like necks, and heads that looked all beak. Yet they were harnessed up and appeared obedient.
    ‘That would be an astonishing sight,’ Jansson murmured. ‘A dog riding a cart. Even if it wasn’t being drawn by two huge birds. If you filmed that and put it on the outernet it would be a comedy sensation.’
    Sally touched Jansson’s arm, surprisingly sympathetic. ‘Just let the strangeness wash over you, Lieutenant Jansson. Come on . . .’
    Hastily they packed up their few bits of gear.
    The cart slowed to a stop. The beagle driver jumped to the ground, and she – nude save for a kind of belt of pockets, you could see she was female – greeted Snowy. They ran around each other briefly, and Snowy even dropped for a moment to all fours, wagging a stub of tail.
    ‘The females are dominant,’ Sally murmured.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Look at the two of them. He’s more pleased to see her than the other way around. Something worth noting.’
    ‘Hmm. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions.’
    Sally snorted. ‘You could learn all you need to know about human males from one miserable specimen. Why not the same here? Listen, we need to find an angle of our own.’
    ‘We came here to help Mary. We came for the trolls.’
    ‘Yeah. But we weren’t expecting all this complication. We’ll play for time – and stay alive in the process. Just remember, we can always step out, if it gets bad enough. I can carry you. These dogs can’t follow, we know that now.’
    With the greeting done, the female beagle approached the humans. She pointed to her own chest. ‘Li-Li. Call me Li-Li.’ She turned to the cart. ‘Ride to Eye of Hunte-hhr.’
    Sally nodded. ‘Thank you. We need to bring the trolls we came with . . .’
    But Li-Li had already turned away, and was beckoning to the trolls, singing a kind of warbled melody. Without any fuss Mary stood, picked up Ham and set him on her shoulder, and clambered aboard the cart.
    The humans followed, with Finn McCool. Snowy snapped the reins, the bird beasts cawed like pigeons on steroids, and the cart jolted into motion, nearly knocking Jansson over. There were no seats. Jansson held on to the rough-finished wall of the cart, wondering how far it was to this city, and if she could make it all the way without collapsing.
    Li-Li approached Jansson. Again Jansson had to endure a wet dog-like nose sniffing at her mouth, armpits, crotch. ‘Sick,’ Li-Li said without ceremony.
    Jansson forced a smile. ‘My body’s going wrong, and I’m full of drugs. No wonder I smell strange to you.’
    Li-Li took Jansson’s hands in hers. Li-Li wore no gloves, unlike Snowy. Her fingers were long, human-like in that regard, but her palms had leathery pads on the underside, like canine paws. ‘My jj-rrh- ob . Care for sick and injured. You lucky.’
    ‘How?’ Sally asked sharply. ‘How were we lucky?’
    ‘Snowy found-dd you.’ She glanced up at the big beagle at the reins. ‘Not ve-hhry clever but big spir-rrit. Always truth-tells. B-hhrave. Good hunter, but kind. Takes you back to city, see Granddaughter Petra. Some hunter-hhrs, just take back head. Or ear-rrs.’
    Sally and Jansson exchanged a glance.