Close Encounters (3 page)

“A
nything yet, Max?” I glanced at Crigo, distracted by his strong feelings of eagerness. He was at the starboard port, staring out at Orpheus Two, the tip of his tail twitching, ears swiveling as though picking up the sound of prey. We were on our fourth orbit, depositing small satellites at regularly spaced intervals, and he’d been in the same position since the planet had come into view.

“I’m sorry, Kiera.” It took Max a full minute to respond, a first for him. He usually answered before I could get the entire question out. “The trees aren’t helping, and the surface temperature is warm enough to interfere with the infrared scan. It’s taken three filters to get a reliable reading, even on the night side of the planet.”

“Did you find anything?”

“There’s so much life, it’s impossible to tell one species from another. There could be a million Buri and we wouldn’t know it.”

I leaned back and rubbed my forehead. “If there are more Buri than those reported, they have to live someplace. Did anything that looked like a building show up on the ultraviolet frequency?”

“Only the ones the Dynatec crew erected at the edge of that large lake, and a small group of buildings about five miles away in the jungle.”

“Buildings?”

“Yes. We’re too far away to tell what they’re made from, but they are certainly more than huts.”

Interesting. The original report had implied the Buri were somewhat primitive. The fact that they were advanced enough to construct buildings meant that although they were short on mechanical assistance, they were definitely way above the primitive level. At the very least, they would be ranked a developing society if not for their low birthrate. But there was no sense speculating until I got to know them better.

“Anything on the geological spectrograph?” I continued.

“Except for a slight anomaly in the mountainous regions near the Buri site, it looks pretty standard.”

“An anomaly?” I sat a little straighter, my interest piqued.

“What kind of anomaly?”

“Veins of metal that seem to change composition. First they registered as copper, then as zinc, then as iron. It’s most unusual.”

“Could it be a new type of metal? Maybe that’s what Dynatec is after.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Max answered. “Alloys of those metals have been common for centuries. The anomaly is more likely due to thin veins of those metals overlapping each other.”

“Back to square one.” I sighed. “What time is it at the Dynatec encampment?”

“Shortly after midday.”

Good. That meant I wouldn’t be required to eat their food with them. Call me silly, but I don’t eat other people’s cooking unless I’ve watched the preparations myself, or unless I really trust the chef. And I don’t trust anyone who works for Dynatec.

“Here’s the plan. Max, put down at their camp and stay just long enough to let them have a good look at you. Once they get an eyeful, move to the other side of the lake, nearer to the Buri structures. That’s where we’ll set up our work area. I’ll walk over after I get a look at the camp.”

Crigo gave a happy chuff and stalked to the hatch, sitting with his back to the room as though staring at the door would make it open faster. He was really getting on my nerves. From the way he was emoting, Orpheus Two was one big dinner plate and he could hardly wait to dig in.

“Listen, cat,” I instructed as Max angled in for his descent. “I go out first, you give me a couple minutes, then follow. And stay away from the humans and the Buri. They aren’t food or toys. Got that? I don’t want the Dynatec crew getting the wrong idea and taking a shot at you.”

The only indication he heard me was the slight flattening of his tufted ears, but I knew he’d do as I asked. He wasn’t happy about it, but he’d do it.

I’d already dressed in my standard work uniform: a short-sleeved khaki jumpsuit with the Alien Affairs patch on the breast pocket, and my rank on the collar. While Max touched down light as a feather, I tucked my braid under the matching cap and brushed an imaginary speck of lint from my knee.

A hiss of air warned me the hatch was opening, and I straightened just as Crigo looked at me over his shoulder and gave a low grunt.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. Don’t get your tail in a knot.”

My boots made a hollow sound on the bare metal floor as I slipped through the tube and ducked outside. Stopping on the top step, I took a deep breath of air lush with the scent of exotic flowers and growing things. From all directions my sensitive hearing picked up the whoops, clicks and rumbles of teeming life, and there was so much green it hurt my eyes to look at it.

Nearby, heat waves shimmied above the group of flexiplast Quonset huts the Dynatec crew had erected. Several people paused to watch me disembark, their faces curious and expectant. Only one looked happy to see me, and she was a tiny thing with café au lait skin.

“Max,” I subvocalized. “Who’s the woman to my far right, the one who’s smiling?”

He took a second to compare her image with the crew’s ID list he had on file. “That’s Second Lieutenant Claudia Karle. She’s in charge of mapping.”

I made a mental note to try and talk to her later. Since she was emitting feelings of friendliness, she might be a good source of information.

“Well, well. Senior Agent Smith.”

My gaze swung to the man who had spoken as I descended the remaining steps. I’d crossed paths with Frisk before. He was the kind of Natural who thought GEPs were second-class citizens, there only for his entertainment. Especially the females, and the scuttlebutt was that he liked his sex rough and kinky.

He was also part of the crew that had appropriated the assets of the Sematians, a primitive race in the Sema Galaxy, leaving the planet denuded of resources.

I was the agent who’d gone in and cleaned up the mess, and while I hadn’t been able to prove Dynatec had broken the law, everyone knew they had. I’d been gunning for them ever since. No people should have to go through what the Sematians had.

The surprise here was that Frisk was in charge of this particular mission. He usually got the smash-and-grab assignments. If a job required finesse and a capacity for thinking, then Frisk needed an extra brain to do the work. I took another look around but didn’t see anyone who appeared capable of controlling the man. The day was young, however, and I’d keep an open mind.

“Captain Frisk. Nice place you’ve got here.”

“We think so.” He extended a hand, which I ignored. The first self-defense lesson a GEP learns is not to offer a hand unless you want to draw back a bloody stump. It’s something the prehistoric men of Old Earth had once known, but present-day Naturals seem to have forgotten. It’s also one of the easiest ways to tell a Natural from a GEP, since no GEP will shake hands. Even the GEPs who are trying to pass as Naturals can’t bring themselves to participate in this ritual. Not when it’s embedded in us from birth that injury to the hands leads to helplessness and death.

Frisk let his hand drop. “I’m honored Alien Affairs would send someone of your caliber for such a small job.”

Sure he was. And I’m High Empress Tutti-Frutti, queen of the galaxy.

“We don’t consider the potential extinction of an entire race a ‘small job,’ Captain. As a matter of fact, my first order of business is to discover why the Buri are dying out and see if it can be reversed.”

While I was talking, I lowered my shields. Waves of arrogance, certainty, and smugness bombarded me, and I forced myself not to wince. Whatever was going on, Frisk was pretty sure it was under control. He waved one of the watching crew forward. The guy was young, tall and blond, with brilliant green eyes. If I’d had a brother, this is what he would have looked like. But GEPs don’t have families. The closest we came was shared genetic material, and the same combination was never used twice.

“Maybe Dr. Redfield can be of some assistance in your research. He’s our chief science officer. Doc, this is Kiera Smith, Alien Affairs’ best agent.”

He nodded at the introduction, his gaze wary, but didn’t offer to shake hands. Another GEP. Interesting. Especially when you considered he was probably the only person on the planet who, theoretically, should have come close to matching me in physical strength.

He didn’t, of course. If humans can be compared to horses, then Naturals where draft animals while regular GEPs were quarter horses. They were faster, smarter, sleeker and had better reflexes than their creators. They were also created sterile. No way were Natural humans going to take a chance on being bred out of existence.

I, on the other hand, am a supersonic thoroughbred. Because instead of using DNA from Naturals to make me, Gertz illegally used DNA from the best GEPs he could find and then manipulated it even more. Not only am I an empath, my reflexes are so fast that I can pick an insect out of the air like it was sitting still. I am so fast that I can run rings around a normal GEP going at top speed. And my body heals what would normally be fatal wounds in seconds. I am also fully functional, another fact
only
the boss and I knew. After all, what good did it do Gertz to play God if his creation couldn’t reproduce?

So, while Redfield was smart enough to be Frisk’s puppet master, he was no match for me. However, with Frisk’s attitude toward GEPs, I couldn’t see him taking orders from the doctor.

“Senior Agent Smith.” When Redfield spoke, his gaze was shuttered. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can, and you’re more than welcome to avail yourself of our labs and archives.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” I gestured at Max. “I have state-of-the-art equipment on my ship.”

Frisk’s gaze ran over Max, and he frowned. “An artificial intelligence Surge Zephyr? That must have set Alien Affairs back a pretty chit. Seems a little like overkill.”

I bared my teeth in a fake smile. “Not at all. If anything happens to an agent, a ship like Max is perfectly capable of completing the mission on his own. That alone makes him indispensable.”

Okay, warning given. I turned back to Redfield. “Have you taken DNA samples from the Buri?”

He glanced at Frisk and I detected a short burst of uneasiness before he answered. Even more interesting than his GEP status. Note to self: at some point, cut the doctor away from the herd and see if he’s willing to talk.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Guilt surged to the forefront of his emotions. “The Buri are too aggressive. They won’t let us near them. The only way to obtain samples would be to stun them first, and since there are so few of them I didn’t want to risk it.”

I caught a movement in my peripheral vision and saw Redfield’s eyes widen. “Agent Smith, there’s a rock cat coming out of your ship.”

I gave him points for his lack of panic. Frisk, on the other hand, had gone rather pale, so I addressed my answer to the doctor. “That’s Crigo. If you don’t bother him, he won’t bother you.”

As though to prove my point, Crigo trotted by, nose to the ground as he examined every bush and blade of grass, paying no attention to the Dynatec camp. Behind me, the ship hatch closed, and Max lifted silently from the ground.

“Where’s he going?” Frisk was having a hard time watching Max and keeping an eye on Crigo at the same time.

“The ship? He’s going to the other side of the lake to set up my work area.”

Frisk stiffened. “I thought you’d work out of our camp.”

“Sorry, Captain. I need to be close to the Buri, and they obviously don’t care much for your crew.” I’d already spotted the youngster from the holo, lounging against a tree at the edge of the jungle. “Do they always watch your camp so closely?”

“Always,” Redfield answered before Frisk could respond.

“And several of them usually follow the mapping team when they go out.”

I nodded. “He doesn’t seem too excited about a new ship landing.”

“We have supply drones come in once a month. They’re used to seeing ships land and take off.” The doctor made an odd little hand gesture at the end of his comment, kind of a “come here, stay away” movement in abbreviated form. If I weren’t so good at reading body language I’d have missed it.

I was contemplating his meaning when Frisk interrupted us. “How long do you expect this to take, Smith?”

“I have two months before I’m required by law to render a decision, Captain, and I expect my research to take every second of that time limit.” I smiled. “But even if the Buri really are dying out, you’ve got a long wait. The ones I saw on the vids looked pretty healthy. Who knows what their natural life span is? You could be looking at another hundred cycles or so before you’re allowed to open up the planet for trade and colonization.”

“I expect you to keep me updated on any discoveries you make.” Waves of dislike oozed from Frisk, and I arched a brow.

“Expect all you want, Frisk. I make my reports to Alien Affairs. What you’ll get is my final decision. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get started.”

With a nod to Redfield, I strolled toward the jungle. Crigo fell in beside me, his walk graceful, ears constantly twitching. “Like this place, do you?” I murmured.

He gave a low chuff of agreement, his head swinging curiously in the Buri’s direction. The youngster wasn’t lounging anymore. He was standing at attention, nervously fingering a spear as we drew nearer, his gaze shifting from me to Crigo.

“I don’t think he knows what to make of you,” I told Crigo. “Why don’t you act like you’re heading for Max?”

The rock cat cast a longing glance toward the jungle, then turned left. He wouldn’t go far. In spite of his surly attitude, he viewed me as an unruly kitten. One he felt free to discipline when required, but was also obligated to protect.

The youngster watched him go, then turned back to face me. A hundred feet separated us, and I took two slow steps in his direction. On the off chance they were telepathic, I broadcast waves of friendliness, warmth and curiosity. Nothing. He didn’t so much as twitch, just stared at me with his big auburn eyes.

“Max,” I subvocalized. “Are you recording this?”

“Recording.” His voice came from the tiny chip embedded behind my ear. It was both a communication and tracking device, and it allowed Max and I to talk without anyone else being the wiser.