Then he staggered suddenly, lost his footing, and went sprawling. It was as though somebody had pushed him with a strong hand. When he tried to get up it pushed him again, hard. The golden glare from the fissure was steadier now, and very bright.
The trail of little man-things bent suddenly in a long whipping bow, and Lundy knew what was the matter.
There was a current rising in the city. Rising like the hot white winds that used to howl in from the sea, carrying the rains.
"They ride the currents that go between the hot cracks in the mountains and the cold deeps. They eat. They destroy."
The Others. The Others, who were cannibals....
She led the bright trail of plant-men between the towers, and there was a current rising in the streets.
Lundy got up. He balanced himself against the thrust of the current and ran, following the procession. It was clumsy work, with the water and his leaded boots. He tried to gauge where It—or She—was from the focus of the plant-men's eyes.
The hot light flared up brighter. The water pulled and shoved at him. He looked back once, but he couldn't see anything in the shadows between the towers. He was scared.
He shook the net out, and he was scared.
Funny that It—or She—didn't see him. Funny It didn't sense his mind, even though he tried to keep it closed. But he wasn't a very big object down there in the shadows under the walls, and creating an illusion for that many minds would be a strain on anything, even a creature from outer space.