“Silver, do something! Get me out of here!” Ryerson’s voice was just above a whisper, his throat constricted. Everything was happening so quickly. It had been barely a minute since the Ursa had first made its presence known, and it was ripping through his entire hunting party with hellacious speed. Ryerson clearly hadn’t yet been able to fully grasp what was happening.
Daniel simply looked at him with bland disinterest. “What is it about having a lot of money that makes people feel they are invincible?”
Ryerson shook his head in denial. “If that’s what you thought, then why did you come? Are you suicidal?”
“No. Not especially.” Daniel shrugged.
Suddenly a tree at the outer edge of the clearing shattered into splinters and there was the Ursa towering over them, not ten feet away. Several pieces of human bone were lodged in its teeth, and its muzzle dripped with blood and gore.
In the face of his impending demise, Ryerson—to his credit—did not flinch. The shrieks and the cries of death all around him had been overwhelming when he was dealing with things he couldn’t see. Now that he was face-to-face with the foe, Ryerson rose to the occasion. It wasn’t bravery so much as it was pure, gut-roiling desperation as he dashed diagonally across the clearing, firing his pulser repeatedly. “Die, you son of a bitch, die!” he shrieked as he fired over and over again.
The Ursa seemed more curious about him than anything, as if bewildered by this foolish little creature that thought it had the slightest chance against him. The pulser blasts rebounded off its hide. The direct hits actually left small scorch marks where they struck, but that was all. The beast didn’t rock back or acknowledge the impact in any way. It just stood there, absorbing the assault, like a parent waiting patiently for a child to finish its tantrum before taking full control of its errant offspring.
For five seconds that seemed as if they stretched into five minutes, the Ursa simply took it.
Then it disappeared.
Daniel, mildly curious about the outcome, had the calmness of mind to see a faint shimmer rippling across the landscape. Ryerson, by contrast, could not keep his panic and confusion in check. He whipped his pulser back and forth frantically while shouting, “Come out here and get what’s coming to you, you bastard! What’s the matter? Can’t take any more?”
My God, he actually thinks he was doing well against it.
Ryerson never saw the Ursa drop its camouflage and shimmer into visibility directly behind him. Daniel could have shouted out a warning, but he didn’t bother. It was just prolonging the inevitable anyway.
Ryerson had no time to react as the Ursa’s maw enveloped him down to the waist. His scream was muffled and then silenced as the monster’s jaws slammed together with a sound like an ax chopping into the side of the tree. Ryerson was bitten clean in half. The creature tilted its head back and Ryerson’s head, arms, and torso all vanished into its gullet. His lower body actually stood there for a moment, looking ludicrous, before it collapsed. It lay on the ground, the remains of Ryerson’s internal organs seeping out and soaking the ground in red.
Then the Ursa made a deep coughing sound, like a cat about to toss up a hairball. Sure enough, its mouth opened wide, and it regurgitated Ryerson. The man’s upper half had already been partly processed by whatever stomach acids passed for the Ursa’s digestive system, and it was scarcely recognizable as human, much less Ryerson.
“Guess it doesn’t do well with rich foods,” Daniel said morbidly.
The comment caused the Ursa’s head to snap around. The creature had no eyes, but it appeared to be looking right at him. It had doubtless reacted to the sound of his voice.
Daniel just stood there and stared at it. He wasn’t going to provide the Ursa any more free guidance by speaking, but he wasn’t especially concerned by the fact that it was looking his way.
He remembered the stories about how, when death is imminent, your life flashes before your eyes. Daniel waited for that to happen.
And it did, sort of.
The disapproving looks from his parents when he failed class after class. The stern anger from his father when he’d thrown him out once he’d turned eighteen, telling him that if he was going to get anywhere, he’d have to be on his own to do it, because otherwise he had no motivation. His mother standing there, sobbing, but doing nothing to countermand her husband’s actions. There he was, crashing with various friends, getting on their nerves with his aimlessness, going from job to job, holding none of them, putting together no savings, wearing out his welcome again and again, always seeing that same look of disappointment.
And he hadn’t cared.
The only one he’d ever cared about was Ronna, and eventually that same expression had been on her face as well. It didn’t matter what the Ursa did to him; he was already dead, killed by that disappointed look.
Nothing matters without her. And I don’t matter; she made that clear.
The Ursa slowly approached him, but it looked confused, as if—without the guidance of his voice—it couldn’t tell where he was. Its foul breath washed over Daniel, and it was all he could do not to choke or gag or make some other sound that would surely pinpoint his presence for the Ursa.
Despite his indifference to his fate, Daniel couldn’t help but be intrigued by what was happening. He was there, right there, in front of the Ursa, yet it seemed unable to zero in on him. Daniel held his breath, not for fear of being discovered and killed, but out of curiosity as to how long he could elude detection simply by doing nothing at all.
He had no idea how much time passed as they just stood there, predator and prey. The Ursa seemed confused and frustrated, certain there was something there but unable to figure out where it was.
Daniel realized he was still holding his pulser rifle in his right hand. He’d seen close-up how useless the weapon was against the Ursa. No wonder the Rangers used a techno-bladed weapon called a cutlass: The techno-filaments were so sharp that it was claimed a Ranger wielding this weapon could cut off your arm even if his thrust missed; supposedly the wind from the miss alone would get the job done. Daniel doubted this was true, but he knew from what he’d observed firsthand that pulsers did nothing against the creatures, while the pulser-less Rangers had many kills under their belts, so they must be doing something right.
Very slowly, just to see what would happen, Daniel leaned left, then right. The Ursa made no corresponding reaction. My God, it really can’t see me. At all. Emboldened, he cocked the triggering mechanism of the pulser and then lobbed the ineffective weapon to his right. It landed ten feet away and, upon impact, went off.
Instantly the Ursa lunged toward the rifle, landing squarely upon it with its huge, taloned paws. Rather than try to depart the area, Daniel remained where he was, watching the Ursa with something that seemed utterly inappropriate to the situation: amusement.
Suddenly the Ursa’s head snapped up. It let out a furious roar and for an instant Daniel wondered if somehow it had perceived him.
And then the entire clearing was alive with activity. It was a squad of Rangers, coming in from all sides, including one who leaped directly in front of Daniel, shoving him off his feet. “Get down!” ordered the Ranger.
“You get down! I was fine!” Daniel snapped at him, but nevertheless he remained on the ground. An Ursa he could handle; Rangers were officious jerks. No point in antagonizing them.
The Rangers converged on the Ursa, cutlasses at the ready. The Ursa didn’t know which way to “look” first, its head snapping left and right. The Rangers moved with a fluidity that impressed even the cynical Daniel. They slashed, jabbed, attacked, and then retreated while others moved in to take their place. Daniel remembered, in one of the many courses he’d ultimately failed, reading about prehistoric humankind back on Earth, when hunting parties of men would assault creatures many times their size using their spears and their sheer numbers to accomplish their goal. Daniel suspected that it was much like this: attacking from many directions, then pull
ing back, and then assaulting their prey once more so that the animal wasted its energy defending the feints while being wounded by the strikes that did land.
A dozen seeping wounds had appeared all over the Ursa’s hide. It tried to disappear, to hide behind its camouflage, but the Rangers would have none of it, anticipating its path and striking even though they were only approximating where it was. Yet somehow they managed to hit home with their attacks.
Finally the creature let out a roar so thunderous that the ground under Daniel’s feet seemed to shake. Then, gathering the power in its haunches, the Ursa leaped straight up, high over their heads, its trajectory carrying it deep into the brush. Seconds later it was gone.
“Secure the perimeter,” said the Ranger who appeared to be in charge. “Make sure no other damned fools decide that hunting an Ursa is a game for amateurs.” With this comment, he looked disdainfully at Daniel.
“Don’t glare at me, big man,” Daniel replied laconically. “I was just the hired help. This wasn’t my party.”
“Then whose?”
“Ryerson.”
“Sigmund Ryerson?”
“The very same.”
“He’s under arrest, then. Where is he?”
“There,” said Daniel, nodding in one direction, and then gesturing in the other, “and there.”
The Rangers saw on opposite sides of the clearing the regurgitated remains of Ryerson’s upper half and what was left of his lower half. Several wrinkled their faces in disgust.
The officer stared at him for a long time. Then he turned to his subordinates and said, “Call in a detail to clean up this mess. And have him”—he pointed to Daniel—“brought to my office.”
“Sir, yes sir,” they chorused.
Office? Why his office? If they’re going to arrest me, why not just clap me in jail and then schedule an appearance before a magistrate? An office makes it sound as if we have something to talk about. What could we possibly have to talk about?
V
“You’re a Ghost.”
The ranking officer who had told his people to bring Daniel to his office had introduced himself as Captain Freed. He had black hair that was graying at the temples, and the air of someone who looked older than he was. Daniel had chosen to remain standing when Freed had entered and, despite Freed’s invitation to do so, Daniel had declined to sit. Freed shrugged when Daniel stayed on his feet, and then went around to the far side of his desk and sat. Daniel considered this a small triumph for some reason. He was standing, Freed was sitting. Freed was in a subordinate position to him. I win. It was a small, petty victory, but Daniel took whatever victories he could get. He felt smug and in charge, right up until Freed came at him with this total non sequitur, at which point Daniel just stared at him in confusion.
“I’m a what?”
“A Ghost,” Freed repeated.
“Well, obviously I’m not, since I’m still alive.” Daniel spoke slowly, syllable for syllable, as if addressing an idiot.
Freed didn’t appear to appreciate the tone, but he pushed past it. “Do you know how Ursa track their victims?”
“Since they don’t have eyes, you mean? I’ve read that they have a powerful sense of smell, and that guides them.”
“That’s more or less correct,” said Freed, tilting his chair back while steepling his fingers. “But if that’s the case, why didn’t the Ursa catch your scent and attack?”
Daniel shrugged. He really hadn’t given it any thought.
“In the case of their prey, Ursa smell the release of pheromones generated by fear. They home in on fear and destroy the source. If, on the other hand, you can completely control your fear—or if you literally have no fear, for that matter—then you can effectively be invisible to an Ursa. It won’t be able to perceive you. You’ll be like—”
“A ghost.”
“Exactly. It’s a very rare ability. Our Rangers are as brave as humans can be, but to be able to disconnect from fear … it’s a rare gift. And it’s obvious that for whatever reason—temperament, happenstance, or simply the way your brain is wired—you possess it.”
Despite his general distaste for the Rangers, Daniel found himself intrigued by what the captain was telling him. “Yeah? And just out of curiosity, exactly how many people have this gift?”
“Counting you?”
“Sure.”
“Two.”
Let it be a girl. Let her be gorgeous. Please tell me I have to breed with her to produce a race of fearless baby Rangers. “Who’s the other?”
“A Ranger named Cypher Raige.”
“Cypher?” Daniel looked skeptically at Freed. “What the hell kind of name is Cypher?”
“Well, I suggest next time you see him, you ask him that, and when he pushes your teeth down the back of your throat, you’ll have your answer.”
He. Dammit. “Is he around?”
“He’s patrolling the southern quadrant at the moment. Heavy Ursa infestation there. As many Rangers as we have, we’re still spread thin, so we send people where we can. But to get back to the point, Mr. Silver: It’s obvious you can ghost. We saw it.”
“You saw it?” Something suddenly occurred to him. “You mean the whole time that thing was up in my face, you were just watching to see what happened? Did you just stand by and watch Ryerson die, too?”
For a moment, Freed looked less than comfortable. “We arrived too late to save him, but we got there in time to see you ghosting with the Ursa threatening you. I made the call to keep our forces back so that I could see whether you could sustain that status.”
“And if I couldn’t?”
“Then we’d have done our best to save you.”
“So you risked my life without my even knowing it.”
Freed’s voice became harsh. “No, you risked your life while knowing exactly what you were doing. It’s not the job of the Rangers to take responsibility for reckless decisions on the part of the citizenry. If you had died, you would have been just another dead citizen who thought that he knew better than the Rangers of Nova Prime. But if you survived, then you’d be someone who could be of tremendous service to your people. And that’s where we stand right now.”
“Meaning—?”
“Meaning I’m inviting you to become one of us, Mr. Silver. I’m giving you the opportunity to become a Ranger. I’ve taken the liberty of pulling your medical records …”
“That stuff’s supposed to be private!”
Freed smiled thinly and chuckled as if the notion of keeping secrets from the Rangers was quaint. He tapped his monitor screen. “You’re in perfect physical health. You have a good deal of stamina. You’re athletic. You are, in fact, an ideal Ranger candidate and I’m frankly surprised you haven’t enlisted before this.”
“Who said I’m enlisting now?”
“No one,” said Freed, spreading his hands wide. “I could point out, of course, that by ignoring a priority one Ranger directive you are in fact a criminal. You and your entire hunting party. The others are beyond Novan justice, but you aren’t.”
“So if I don’t join up, you’ll prosecute me? Is that it?”
Freed’s face was unreadable. Never play poker with this guy, thought Daniel.
“No, Mr. Silver,” Freed finally said. “I won’t have anyone on the Rangers who isn’t dedicated to the cause and isn’t here of his own free will. And, trespassing aside, your main crime is stupidity. If we start arresting people for that, half the population will be in front of a magistrate. So you’re free to go home, Mr. Silver. Just for our records, where is home, by the way?”
Daniel opened his mouth and then shut it again.
“Yes, as I thought.” He actually sounded gentle, even understanding. “You know, Daniel, the streets can get cold at night. Very cold. There are public shelters, as you know, but they don’t always attract the best elements. So as homes go, you can do far worse than the Rangers. Will you think about it? At least promise me that in exchange for my not thr
owing your ass in a cell.”
“Yeah. Sure. Fine. I’ll think about it,” said Daniel. “But just because I don’t have a home address listed, don’t think for a minute that I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“That’s good to know,” said Freed.
He thought about it for exactly one night. A night when he walked through downtown, the winds whistling harshly through the canyons of the city. He saw the apartment buildings glowing softly against the darkness, imagined people going through their happy lives. Eating, drinking, smiling together. Lovers’ bodies entwined with each other. Children sitting at the feet of their parents, hearing stories about the past of Nova Prime.
He wondered if Ronna had found someone new already. Hell, there was probably someone already lined up when she dumped him. She probably felt she had wasted enough of her life with him and couldn’t wait to move on.
He took refuge for the night in Tucker’s firing range. He’d crashed there a few times, particularly when he’d gotten drunk at a bar—as happened from time to time—and wanted to get sobered up before Ronna saw him; she hated when he was drunk. It was after hours, but Daniel knew the lock’s combo and entered, closing the door firmly against the harsh winds.
He sat there in the darkness for a time and then started running a holographic simulation. It involved a family having a picnic that was disrupted by incoming Skrel attack vessels. Daniel rigged it, putting it into a loop so that the Skrel never arrived. It was just the family—father, mother, son—locked into a pleasant outdoor meal, enjoying one another’s company, laughing and joking.
It was completely artificial, and yet it was more than Daniel had ever known.
Daniel Silver had never felt more alone in his life than he had at that moment.
The next morning Captain Freed arrived at his office to find Daniel waiting for him.
“I still think you’re all a bunch of idiots,” said Daniel without preamble, “but I’m starting to think that I am, too. So maybe I’ll fit right in.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve heard worse reasons to join the corps.” Freed put out a hand and Daniel shook it reluctantly but firmly. “Welcome to the Rangers.”
After Earth: A Perfect Beast Page 34