Others arrived. Blue Nomun’s face showed nothing, Pump Nomun’s eyes were dreamy, Scar Nomun bared his teeth in a humorless grin, False Nomun’s hands shook. One by one they came into the shelter, and Nomun felt the pressure of their hatred, though no one spoke. Nomun went to the shelter’s entrance and watched the jungle’s edge.
Just before the sun rose, Jade Nomun emerged.
Jade Nomun walked past Nomun, but Nomun put a hand on the other’s arm. “Where is he?”
Jade Nomun looked at Nomun, and his nostrils flared. He chopped at Nomun with a reptilian quickness, but Nomun was quicker, and caught the hand. His body moved without thought, effortlessly, precisely, twisting Jade Nomun’s arm, forcing Jade Nomun to his knees. Nomun applied more pressure, and Jade Nomun’s face descended to the sand. Nomun set his foot against Jade Nomun’s neck, shifted his weight slightly so that the vertebrae creaked and Jade Nomun gasped. Nomun felt a fierce delight and laughed. The skill he used now was right, was true, was as much a part of him as his name. “Where is he?” Nomun asked again.
“Who?” Jade Nomun spit out sand, writhed, but could not escape Nomun’s grip.
“The young one. The one who persuaded me not to kill you in the jungle.” Nomun laughed again. “He was right; pleasure deferred is pleasure doubled.”
“Ah...the infant”
Nomun leaned into his foot, just a little more, and the sensation was an exquisitely familiar one. Bone, singing with stress, on the brink of failure; how many times had he felt that sweet ominous tremble? The thought disturbed him, though only in a cold distant way that did not touch the joy of the moment.
“Wait,” Jade Nomun whispered. “I have information; if I die you may die too.”
A sound from the edge of the jungle attracted Nomun’s attention. Young Nomun stood there, swaying. Blood covered his face; his eyes were unfocused. Behind him, Nomun saw a flash of dull red through the crystal.
Nomun ran for the jungle and reached Young Nomun just as the killmech stepped into view. He pulled Young Nomun’s arm across his shoulders, half-carried him to the safety of the sand.
The killmech spoke in a great voice, so loud that Nomun winced. “Be advised. You must rest here until dark, using the provided facilities. You may not leave the beach before dark. When the sun is gone, you must enter the next node. The same strictures apply.”
Nomun looked at Dead Nomun’s chest. A third bag hung there now, heavy with Handsome Nomun’s beautiful head.
NOMUN HELPED YOUNG Nomun into the shelter and lowered him to one of the cots. He took a napkin from one of the food packs and began to wipe blood from Young Nomun’s forehead. The others stared.
“A nursemaid,” Scar Nomun said. “Come minister to me.” His mouth was full of food; his good eye gleamed. He clutched at his crotch and sniggered.
Jade Nomun slumped on his cot, but he snorted with weary contempt “Don’t be fooled, clone. The old one is still formidable. He wears his wrinkles for effect. I would wager to the extent of my fortune that he could chew you up and spit you out. And not break a sweat”
Scar Nomun replied scornfully. “You perhaps. Not I.”
“You did not see, did you, ugly one?”
“I did,” said Blue Nomun. “The fop is correct. The old one is competent. Even I would not care to test his skills.”
Young Nomun’s eyes finally cleared, drifted to Nomun. “You were right,” he said, in a small scratchy voice. “We should have killed him.”
“Then you would be dead now yourself,” Jade Nomun said. “Why do you suppose you still live, boy? The killmech stopped me from finishing the job, that’s why. It informed me that we weren’t to kill each other on the nodes–that to do so was to commit suicide.”
Scar Nomun glared, said, “You lie to protect your weakness.” Then Blue Nomun spoke. “Interesting. We seem to be in the hands of a meticulous madman. I will venture a theoiy: he calls himself Nomun.”
“Yes. The dream,” said False Nomun in a small voice. “Indeed,” said Blue Nomun. “The fugue was the same for us all, was it not? Nomun the child, riding through some Howlytown with his mother? This is the nature of the synaptic storm, as I understand it: it was no dream we all shared; it was the prime memory of the terminal node. The memory which best represents the memories held in that array.” The cyborg’s face was closed and dark; Blue Nomun seemed to have lost some crucial confidence during the night in the jungle. “Furthermore, I am forced to face an unhappy fact. I must conclude that I am not the original Nomun, as I have believed for all my long life.”