Authors: Stuart Clark
“Can I help?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure. This little guy’s no problem, just a pain in the ass.”
Alex laughed.
“All you have to do is hold his arms and legs once I get them off. Okay?”
“Okay.”
After many minutes, and to the entertainment of the others, the pair finally managed to get the creature off the tree. Wyatt held it with one hand across its back. It did not struggle in his grip, just dangled from his hand, arms and legs splayed wide, long furry tail hanging uselessly below. It regarded them with a look of curiosity, the beautiful saucer eyes blinking occasionally and ever so slowly.
“Aaaah, he’s adorable,” Kate said.
“Yeah, well don’t get any funny ideas. That’s a wild animal, regardless of how nice he looks,” Wyatt said, carefully placing the creature in the cage.
“Oh come on, Wyatt,” Bobby said, “Even you have to admit it is kind of cute.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes and then smirked, shaking his head in disbelief.
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“Ah, yes, sir,” the smartly dressed young man said to Mannheim, “General Leonardson is already here and awaits you at your table.”
“Where is he?” Mannheim asked.
“Just over there, sir. The table against the far wall.”
Mannheim squinted through the gloomily lit room and saw Leonardson. At first he did not recognize him. He was dressed in civilian clothing and not his usual CSETI silver tunic, but this was a public place so that probably explained it. Still, there was no mistaking those features, even in the dim light.
“I’m sorry, where did you say General Leonardson was?”
“General Leonardson, sir?” the Maitre d’ enquired. “No, sir, General Leonardson has not frequented this establishment this evening.”
They smiled at each other and Mannheim passed a credit chip to the younger man. “Very good,” he said, “Very good.”
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“Kurt!” Mannheim bellowed like a long lost friend, “Nice to see you again!”
Leonardson hid his face with his hand and whispered, “Will you shut up and sit down!”
“Relax, Kurt. Relax. Nobody here knows who you are.”
Leonardson was about to reply when the service droid arrived with their drinks. He gestured towards it with a nod of his head.
“Very gracious. Thank you.” Mannheim said, lifting his glass out of the droid’s receptacle. “Now then, Kurt, why did you call me here today?”
Leonardson toyed with his glass. It was obvious he was nervous about something. “I wanted some reassurance, actually.”
“Oh? About what?”
“About that information I sent you. Have you destroyed it?”
“Yes, of course. That
is
what you requested of me.”
“Good…good. I fear I may have overstepped the mark releasing that information. That stuff is highly sensitive. The CSETI doesn’t like failures.”
“I know, I appreciate that.”
“So am I right in concluding that you haven’t acted on that information?”
“Of course,” Mannheim smiled. “You and I both know the only time the CSETI release information is when their missions succeed and their crews return. That’s how everyone gets to know about the location of these new planets. The fact that the IZP learns of them slightly in advance of the other zoos…” he smirked “…has been a cause for concern among others, I’ll grant you that. But that’s the way of the world. Finders keepers. It’s our well-kept secret.” He drank from his glass. “Now, coming to the point in question,” he said seriously, frowning and pointing a finger for emphasis. “If I did send a team to this place you told me about and they returned, then we’d be found out, and I can’t let that happen. This relationship has been far too profitable for me to ruin.” He gave Leonardson his Cheshire cat grin and noted the look of contempt he received in return. “So you assume correctly, my friend. I simply cannot send a team to that planet, can I now?”
Leonardson fell back into his chair visibly relieved, “Good. Then it is as I thought,” he said. He sat there for a minute relishing the lifting of the doubt from his shoulders. With his worry abated he could now vent some of his hatred. His face hardened and he jerked upright again, fishing in his pocket. “I almost forgot,” he said abruptly, removing a small chip, “This is for you.”
“What is it?” Mannheim asked.
“The information you requested on Epsilon 721, the planet where they’ve just started mining Phentoria.” Leonardson glanced around nervously.
“Oh really,” Mannheim said, his face brightening, “Anything good to report? Any truth in the rumors of silicon-based life forms?”
“Jesus Christ, Douglas!” Leonardson whispered sharply, “Do you expect me to tell you here? In a public place? It’s all on the chip, look it up yourself!”
“It was a joke!” Mannheim explained, throwing his arms wide, feigning innocence.
“Yeah, well, I don’t find you or your jokes very funny!” Leonardson snarled. He got up from the table and stormed away.
Mannheim watched him go. He had balls, that Leonardson. It wasn’t many people who would turn and tell their blackmailer to go to hell. Still, Leonardson may have left pissed off, but in another sense he had left a happy man, thinking that Mannheim had just ditched that information. But in some respects what Mannheim had told him was true. He would never send a team to that planet if he thought they would return; that’s why he had sent a team he knew could not return. Why did Leonardson need to know about Wyatt and his crew?
He chuckled to himself and the action made the ice cubes in his drink chink against the glass held in his hand. Remembering it, he downed it just as the waitress arrived.
“Are you ready to order?” she asked.
“Ah, yes.”
“And your friend? Is he eating too?”
“Oh, no,” Mannheim said, “I think I shall be dining alone.”
“Very well,” she said, and they exchanged forced smiles.
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The new acquisition had curled itself up in the corner of the cage and seemed quite comfortable. It was almost worrisome that it had not even attempted to escape. Kate found herself repeatedly checking the animal to make sure it was all right and that this behavior was not shock-induced. Every time she looked down at the cage in her hand she found the same pair of huge golden eyes looking back at her from a bundle of brown fur. It broke her heart to see such a docile animal contained like this.
They had made good progress and the forest was thinning. The shade gave way to dappled sunlight. Abruptly, the forest ended, and as they emerged from the trees they were presented with a stunning view.
They were on the edge of a canyon, looking across a maze of valleys which zigzagged away to the horizon. To their right, in the distance, a range of a dozen mountains dominated the skyline, wearing the mauve cloud like a garter, their tips visible above the colored strip. Just above the mountains, the first of the two suns burnt scarlet, and higher still, much higher in the sky, the second was a dazzling yellow. At the bottom of the gully, three hundred feet down, the valley floor was totally covered by tall grass and behind them, the forest followed the edge of the ravine to their right and left, its perimeter defined by the chasm.
Par tentatively moved toward the edge and peered over. “It’s about three hundred feet straight down,” he said, “But it’s quite a rocky cliff face so there are plenty of handholds.”
“We’re going down there?” Chris asked, shocked.
“Yeah, of course,” Wyatt replied. “It’s a different habitat down there so there’s a chance we’ll encounter some different animals. Anyway, we’ve got time.”
“Well, let’s hope we don’t catch anything big,” Byron moaned. “I don’t fancy lugging it back up here.” Par laughed at his lack of enthusiasm.
Chris brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the suns and surveyed the plain. “If there was anything of substantial size down there, we’d see it from up here…right?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. His question was greeted with silence. When he turned back to the others for confirmation he still got no reply. It seemed no one was prepared to give the obvious answer. He shrugged his shoulders.
Slowly, carefully, they picked their way down the side of the ravine. Bobby and Byron passed the cage between them while Par lent Kate a helping hand when she experienced difficulties.
After nearly three quarters of an hour they found themselves at the bottom of the rock wall and were surprised at what they found there. What had looked like grass from the cliff top was not grass at all, more like bamboo cane, tough but flexible and growing to about eight feet in height.
“Okay, I want Byron on point and Kit bringing up the rear, the rest of us will mix it up in the middle,” Wyatt said.
Byron stepped into the cane field, advancing three or four steps before stopping and sniffing, letting his nose adjust to the predominant smell of the cane. He walked on, parting the cane with his hands and forearms, and Chris fell into step behind him.
The line snaked its way through the cane for over an hour without sighting a single life form. Alex’s voice crackled through on their headsets, “Is it just me or is this a waste of time? I mean, with the damn racket we’re making nothing will come within a hundred klicks of us. I suggest…”
“Shhh!” Up ahead, Byron had halted the line.
“What?”
“Shhh!”
Wyatt fell out of formation and quietly made his way up to where Byron was stood. He looked at his friend. “What’s up?” he whispered.
Byron just tapped his nose with his forefinger.
Wyatt sniffed. Yes, there was something. Another odor hardly discernible over the strong, sweet smell of the cane, but it was there sure enough.
He turned and motioned the others to join them and when they were huddled together he held up three fingers and then made a sweeping motion with his hand. He then tapped his gun and indicated his eyes. It was all sign language for ‘Three yard spread, have your weapons ready and stay alert.’ They would form a line laterally—three yards apart so they could see the person directly to their right or left—and then the line would advance. They could then cover an area of roughly twenty-five yards across. Bobby grabbed Kate’s arm and motioned for her to stay behind her.
As quickly and quietly as possible the team fanned out to form the new line and when they were all in place Wyatt motioned them forward. They took each step cautiously, making no rapid movements, communicating with each other only by hand signals. 5 paces…nothing. 10 paces…nothing. It seemed Byron’s fears were unfounded. 13 paces…14 paces.
Suddenly the ground began to shiver beneath their feet and they had the impression of a great bulk rising somewhere up in front of them. Each of them could see an area of the cane field some fifteen yards in front rising above the rest and hear the shifting of the dry dusty soil. As abruptly as it had started, the noise and the motion ceased.
The team, who had all instinctively crouched where they stood, now shared puzzled looks with their neighbors. Up ahead, through the cane, they could now see an appendage, curled wickedly above the growth. A segmented limb with a broad, flattened end.