by Jeff Kirvin
Upon closer examination, the creature looked less like a monster and more like what it was: an animal looking for food. Jack felt a certain pity for it, and was even more convinced that this was the wrong planet for Envoy to colonize.
"Sir!” called Jabari. “You'd better take a look at this."
Jack trotted over to where Jabari was standing, the flank of the beast. “What do you have, Sergeant Major?"
She pointed to some strange markings on the creature's right thigh. “That. We didn't do that. Is that what I think it is?"
Jack studied the strange symbols scarred into the creature's flesh, then it hit him what he was looking at. His mind flooded with images he'd seen in school as a child, a textbook of the American west. “Shit."
"Sir?"
"It's a brand. This creature belonged to someone. Or something.
"Let's cut down some of these trees and make some kind of harness to drag this thing back to camp. Then I have a call to make."
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Chenzokov and a few scientists came down in the first shuttle just over an hour later, and Jack was there to greet them as they came off the shuttle ramp.
"Good afternoon, Captain,” Jack said, guiding Chenzokov towards the dropship. “I think there's something you need to see."
As Jack walked with Chenzokov behind the dropship, he heard the older man gasp. The carcass of the creature was laid out alongside the dropship, and between the plasma burns and the jungle's heat, it was beginning to get a bit pungent.
"The first thing I want you to take note of,” Jack said, dragging Chenzokov to the front of the beast, “is the head. Note the teeth, both their size and number. These are the same teeth that ripped open one of my men, while he was still wearing his armor."
The Russian gagged, but said nothing.
Jack nodded. “And while you are thinking about that mouth attached to nine tons of muscle, let me show you something else.” Jack guided Chenzokov to the rear of the creature and pointed out the brand.
"Notice anything strange about this marking?” Jack asked.
Chenzokov coughed. “It is an odd shape and placement for scar tissue, I'll admit—"
Jack threw up his hands in disgust. “It's a brand, Captain. Proof of ownership. Someone or something tried to domesticate this animal.
"We are not alone here."
"I—I see no proof of this,” Chenzokov sputtered.
"Captain!” Jack exclaimed. “You can't still believe—"
Chenzokov straightened and looked Jack in the eye. “I believe you and your men found and killed a predator which attacked one of your men, a creature that bears a curious, if random, piece of scar tissue. Nothing more.
"We are here, Major, to establish a colony world for the Terran Republic. This planet is as close to perfect as we are going to find, and I'll not let you chase us away from it with your wild and unfounded speculations!
"A brand. A barbaric practice we abolished centuries ago! To think a starfaring race would still ... No, you are wrong, Major. There is no danger here other than the wild animals of this ecosystem. To that end, you will set up a defensive perimeter large enough for the colonists. And I will hear no more of your paranoid theories!"
With that, Chenzokov turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jack to ponder the strange symbol on the creature's thigh.
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(CC) Jeff Kirvin 2005
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