Dominant Species Volume One -- Natural Selection (Dominant Species Series) (53 page)

“Cool,” Bailey said.

The aliens must have taken a completely different, perhaps an
emergency route to the shuttles, which explained why they hadn’t run into any
of them on the way. The longer he watched, the clearer it became that there was
a sense of quick order or almost drill-like quality to the movements he could
see. There was even a feeling of neatness about the net bags, as if they’d been
pre-packed. One of the big bastards was carrying a net sack filled with the
shiny gray canisters. There was no telling what else they’d loaded.

They watched the scurrying forms of the aliens and felt joy, a joy
they could scarcely contain. The fine and noble feeling of revenge filled their
cups to overflowing.

“Good riddance,” Bailey said.

“Good riddance, cocksuckers,” Mary added. “I hope you crash and
burn.”

“Adios, bastards,” Phil said.

Yammering softly in his own tongue, Seseidi told the evil spirits
that they could never rest as long as there were warriors like these to chase
them.

“Now what?” Mary asked.

“Keep your fingers crossed,” Phil replied. “Let’s hope they leave
us a shuttle, too.”

Phil thought about the wire straws in his pocket. One of their
party would soon be attached to the control panel and wouldn’t be needing a
lift home.

They waited until there was no more visible activity then Seseidi
volunteered himself and crawled up on his belly to get a better look.

He snaked his way up to the large opening and peeked in. From
there he could see the entire facility. He scanned it from left to right, then
craned his neck around—and just to be sure, took a look at the high ceiling,
too. He didn’t trust these spirits at all.

He saw nothing; the monsters were gone. Behind the big glass wall,
he could see two of the huge dragons the spirits flew in. He stood up and waved
the others forward.

On the way to the opening, Phil suddenly found himself short of
breath.

“It’s hard to breathe,” Mary said.

“Me, too,” Bailey said, but she spun like a ballerina with her
arms open wide in the big empty chamber. “They’re gone. The nasty bastards are
gone.” She closed her eyes and spun blissfully for a moment.

Phil reached in his pocket and lifted out the little folded paper
envelope. In spite of its nondescript, papery nothingness, it felt like
something evil to him.

Mary eyed the envelope cautiously as if it might fly out of his
hand and bite her.

Bailey saw Mary’s concerned look.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Mary explained the problem of the control panel to her and how
they’d proposed to solve it. Bailey’s joyful look faded completely.

“Oh,” she said near the end of it. The nail of her forefinger went
in her mouth.

It didn’t occur to Phil until he’d unfolded the paper that the
problem of operating the airlock must have confronted the aliens as well. The
airlock could only be operated from the panel—and it couldn’t operate itself.

“There’s a goon left on board—probably close by,” he said
matter-of-factly.

He looked around as if the goon was right behind him and sure
enough, there it was in the opening.

Bailey saw it at the same time and let out a
yip.

Phil’s heart went into high gear before he realized the little
goon in the opening was in fact Ned.

“Looks like you made a mess out of this outfit, eh?” Ned called
out weakly. He took a step or two toward them and fell down like a heavy sack.

When they got over to him, Mary saw the red and discolored
bandage covering his wound. The sickly sweet smell of it told the rest of the
story.

“Christ, Ned . . .” she said.

“Pretty tough customer, eh?” he said.

“I’ll say you are,” Bailey said, trying to act cheerful.

Mary lifted his head up onto her knee. His face was the color of
straw.

“I thought I might . . . you know . . . help you guys out,” he
said.

An autonomic response, the selfish one that keeps the human
organism alive, passed between Phil and Mary as they exchanged looks.

Ned could operate the control panel.

Mary’s equally human conscience warmed the cold response with
compassion.

“The most you’re going to do is rest here until we get the airlock
working. Then you’re going home with us.”

“No way lady,” Ned replied. His voice was stronger than she’d
expected. “I’ve got maybe an hour before I’m dead. The rest of you have a
chance. You can make it. I can’t. You know that, Mary. I’ll be dead before we
get down.”

“Ned . . .”

“It’s not open to discussion,” he said. “You guys help me to my
feet and attach me to the control thing. Let’s go.” He started to get up.

Phil put his hand on his chest and their eyes locked.

“It’s okay, eh. It’s okay. This is my choice. Not yours.”

Phil studied his face a moment longer. He wanted to be sure, as
sure as he could be, that Ned was in control of his senses. If he’d thought it
was the poison in his system talking, he wouldn’t have let the man get up.

“I know what I’m doing, Phil.”

Mary’s conscience wasn’t going to give ground quite so easily.
“No,” she said flatly. “He’ll stay right here until we can carry him on board.
He’s sick. He’s disqualified for the duty. He’s on R and R, or something. No.”

Suddenly, Ned grabbed Phil around the neck and pulled him down close.
With his mouth close to Phil’s ear, he whispered something the others couldn’t
hear. It took a minute, then he let go and sagged back down.

Phil turned to Mary. “Help him up,” he said. “He’s got a job to
do.”

Phil walked away a few steps then wagged his finger at Mary.

“No. Leave him where he is—and don’t wag your finger at me,” she
said getting up and coming over. They moved a little further out of earshot.

“What did he say to you?” Mary asked up close, challenging Phil.
“Some macho crap only the boys understand? Was that it?”

“No. He just said his dying wish would be to help his friends.”

“He’s sick!”

“Look,” Phil said impatiently, “We’re running out of time. He
draws a straw then, just like the rest of us.”

Mary thought it over. Along with her conscience, her sense of
survival was alive and well.

“Okay. Fine. He draws a straw.”

Working quickly, Phil pulled out the envelope and unfolded it. He
picked up one of the shorter straws with his nails and cut it not quite in two
by working it back and forth, then did it again. Now he had five wires. He
arranged them in his hand and walked over. Before he could stop her, Mary
reached right out and plucked one of the straws, a long one, out of his
fingers. She looked at Phil and tried to read whether she’d just drawn the
short straw.

Phil just glared at her. Then he bent down and let Ned draw. Ned
hesitated, then drew one out, a very short one.

Phil slowly unfurled his fingers, revealing nothing but longer
wires.

Bailey just turned away. Mary blinked once or twice and tossed her
wire down.

“Help me up now, goddamn it,” Ned said, struggling to get up.
“We’ve wasted enough time.”

Working in unison, they pulled the big man up on his feet and
helped him over to the control panel. The effort in the thin air exhausted all
of them.

“What do I do?” Ned asked.

Talking fast, Mary explained it. Ned listened and nodded as she
went over how the system had to be cycled before the seams could be activated.

“Ready?” she asked.

Ned nodded silently then reached out and placed his hand on the
structure that opened the vents inside the airlock. There was a sudden sound of
rushing air.

“Cool,” Bailey said.

When the air inside the lock had been evacuated, Ned reached up
and placed his big hand on the mud-red ball in the center of the tangle of
roots. His face pained further.

“It’ll sting a little before it grabs you,” she said, just as the
roots wrapped his arm.

He really grimaced, his mouth forming into a silent
oh

“There’s the probe . . .” he managed to say.

“That’s the worst of it,” she said. “Can you open the space hole?”

Ned looked over at the shuttles and a bright star-shaped pattern
of light formed on the ceiling as the space hole opened wide.

When Phil looked back over at Ned, he was smiling.

“I don’t feel so dead anymore,” he said.

“Okay, close the hole,” Mary said.

“You bet.”

The hole slowly closed, pinching off the bright, clean light from
the planet below.

“Open the seams, Ned,” she said firmly. She could sense that Ned
was in that euphoric state caused by union with the mechanism.

The seams on both sides of the enormous, translucent plate bloomed
open, and Mary felt an odd mix of elation and sadness. There were two remaining
shuttles, each brown and gleaming. One of them would carry them home. But Ned
was now undeniably the odd man out. He’d be glued to the control panel while
they were on their way home. She looked at Phil with an imploring look. Phil
saw the look, but there were some things you just couldn’t change. When Ned had
pulled Phil close, he had told him to put the short straw on his left so he
could deliberately pick it.

“Get moving!” Phil barked at her.

Bailey started for the shuttles with a war-whoop, running with
her legs extra-high. Seseidi sprinted after her. Mary touched Ned’s arm, then
with a last look into his eyes, turned and ran toward the airlock.

Phil reached out and took Ned’s free left hand with both of his
and shook it firmly. “Adios,” he said.

Phil turned and ran for the air lock.

“So long,” Ned said after him.

The two perfectly formed depressions on either side of the hold
were empty. Bailey and the Indian jumped down into the containment pit, and
Bailey stretched the netting over the top and hooked it into place. She was
moving so fast, Phil wondered if he was watching her in fast-motion.

“We don’t wanna fall out, do we? Okay, I’m ready!” she yapped.
“Ready to go!” She grabbed the Indian and gave him a quick hug. Seseidi just
smiled. “He’s ready! Hit it!” Bailey said.

The odd, organic wall with its two groups of biotic connectors
looked bizarre but not exactly menacing, especially for Mary who knew what to
expect when she made contact with the connectors.

“Are you sure this will work?” Phil asked.

“No, I’m not,” she replied “Let’s just say it
probably
will.”
She left him standing there on one leg and started to take her clothes off.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. The goons are naked when they attach, so we should
be, too. Besides, I don’t know what effect clothes might have on the
connection. They might even prevent it.” The idea of letting those peculiar
organisms wrap him up with their tentacles and put their wire-like probes in
his body and into his head was bad enough on its surface. The idea of doing so
stark naked was almost unendurable. He watched blankly from a distance as Mary
kicked off her pants.

“C’mon soldier,” she said, now totally nude. “You can handle it.”

“Christ . . .” he said and started to unbutton his shirt.

“I’m not sure how to do this,” Mary said, standing in front of her
section. “I guess we just do it.” She saw something. “Oh! Those are foot
holes—of course.”

She squatted down and looked into the depressions where their feet
would go. In spite of her nakedness, she looked as if she were examining a
piece of broken machinery.