DS02 Night of the Dragonstar

by David Bischoff

  There was a heavy silence for a time as everyone considered Kemp’s words. Finally Mishima spoke. “Perhaps there is a third option, Colonel.”

  Kemp seemed surprised but not upset that Mishima would challenge him so diplomatically. “Really? And what might that be?”

  “Well, isn’t it possible that we could send down some emissaries to the Saurians and get this thing resolved? I mean, maybe we don’t need to fight our way out—maybe they would just let us leave.”

  This comment stirred up a bit of discussion among the assembled staffers and scientists who had been listening in on the dialogue. Mishima welcomed the additional input, but he was certain that Colonel Kemp loathed policymaking by committee. He couldn’t stifle a sly smile as he regarded the colonel, who remained passive as he scanned the reactions of the small assembly.

  “That’s interesting,” Kemp said after the discussion had died down. “And you’re right—it is a distinct option. I guess I hadn’t thought of it. But I feel it’s also the most dangerous one. Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Takamura?”

  Mishima nodded. “Probably. There’s no doubt in my mind that the Saurians have been severely affected by the radiation levels we’ve been detecting—there’s no other explanation for what we’ve just been through. And although it appears to be affecting the warrior-class and agrarian-class individuals primarily, I wouldn’t bet on us being able to hash this thing out with the priests—they might be very pissed off at us.”

  There was a murmur of laughter in the crowd as he continued. “But it is a possibility that we should at least consider. I was at one time quite friendly with Thesaurus, one of their philosopher-priests.”

  Kemp nodded slowly. “Well, it’s certainly worth trying, especially if we can get some volunteers who wouldn’t mind walking into the arms of the Saurians.”

  “Or maybe their jaws,” someone cracked.

  There was a sharp round of laughter, followed by some anxious silence. Mishima knew they were waiting for some fool to volunteer.

  “I guess I’m the one to do it,” he said with a touch of exhaustion.

  Everyone looked at him with some surprise.

  “I mean,” he continued, “it was my crazy idea, right? So why shouldn’t I be the guy to try it out, right?”

  “I’m not sure that would be a good idea, Doctor,” Kemp said.

  “And why not?” Mishima was feeling suddenly defensive. Did Kemp always feel so threatened by any outside authority or show of courage?

  “It’s simple, really. With Dr. Jakes stranded in the ruins, that leaves you in charge of the research division. Correct me if I’m wrong on that.”

  “No, that’s right. I am the chief project assistant.” Mishima could already see what the colonel was leading up to, and he was probably right.

  “Well,” Kemp said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to risk the head of an operation to a mission that may be this risky, that’s all.”

  “He’s right,” one of Mishima’s assistants said. “We wouldn’t want to lose you, Mishima.”

  Mishima nodded appreciatively. It was gratifying to know that his people liked him and respected him enough to want him to stick around.

  “All right,” he said. “I can see your point, Colonel, but I don’t see anybody else volunteering for the job. Does that mean that we just forget about it?”

  Kemp grinned wryly and shrugged. “Good point, Doctor. I really don’t know what it means. I’m all for trying anything that might make our situation a little easier, but I think this one is strictly a volunteer proposition, don’t you?”

  Mishima nodded and looked about at the faces of those who were standing close by. He could easily see the fear and apprehension in their expressions. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d seen what an angry, hungry Saurian could do to a human being.

  “I’d like to try it.” A small voice suddenly punctured the awkward silence.

  Mishima stared down at diminutive Kate Ennis, the NBC journalist who had been standing by Kemp’s side, quietly recording the entire scene.

  “Kate, you can’t be serious,” Kemp said.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re taking on, Ms. Ennis?” Mishima asked.

  Kate Ennis stepped forward, nervously straightening her soiled jumper. Her exquisitely sculpted face reflected her anxiety and the pressure she, and all of them, were under. But beneath that exterior Mishima could detect a fiercely burning spirit, a strength that was coming quickly to the surface.

  “Of course I know,” she said. “And I think I’m qualified for the job.”

  “Kate, I won’t hear of this,” Kemp said in a patronizing voice. “This is ridiculous.”

  That seemed to anger her, but she kept her emotions in check as she turned to stare at the colonel. “Phineas, listen to me. I’ve been a journalist for thirteen years. I’ve interviewed every conceivable type of person in thousands of foreign locations. I’ve been confronted with foreign languages and customs from every part of the world, and I’ve done my job—which is to talk to them, damn it! It seems to me that this assignment is pretty much the same thing.”

  At first glance Ennis seemed fragile and delicate, but after hearing her impassioned little speech, Mishima knew she could do the job.

  Colonel Kemp was smiling and nodding his head. “How can I argue with that kind of logic, Kate? Although I think you’ll find these chaps a bit different from any of your previous subjects.”

  “And I don’t think you should be going by yourself,” said a young corporal wearing a tactical insignia on the shoulder of his coveralls. He turned to face and salute Kemp. “Corporal David Potlack, sir. I couldn’t help overhear the conversation, sir, and I figure if the lady here isn’t afraid to check out the lizards, then neither am I, sir.”

  Kemp smiled at the young man and shook his hand. “All right, then, I guess we have a mission to plan. Ms. Ennis, meet your escort, Corporal Potlack. Now let’s sit down here and see what would be the best way to go about this.”

  * * *

  Christ-on-a-crutch, he never thought he’d be in a situation like this!

  Dr. Robert Jakes lay sprawled on a slab of stone about two hundred meters above the jungle floor. He’d been carried there by several of the passengers from the cargo ‘thopter because he’d banged up his ankle when they first touched down. He laughed at the thought. “Touched down” isn’t exactly how he’d have described the way the ’thopter had thrashed through the tree tops and flung itself over the stone wall into the courtyard of the ruins. If it hadn’t been for the thick tangle of vines and underbrush that were slowly reclaiming the stone buildings, and which had served as a marvelous cushioning pad, the ’thopter would have had a worse time of it.

  As it was, there were some cuts and bruises and a few sprains, but that was all.

  Darkness had wrapped them all up more than an hour ago, and everyone was huddled about a utility lamp that Lieutenant Barkham had brought up from the ’thopter. The scene reminded Jakes of a pack of early hominids bunched about a simple campfire, listening to the horrors of the night, which seemed to caper boldly just beyond the light’s perimeter. And they represented an interesting mix of people, thought Jakes as he looked about the assembled group. Barkham and a couple of IASA staffers, two executives from World Media Corporation, several scientists from the research team, and a handful of the documentary crew.

  Most of us not very well cut out for this kind of survival game, Jakes thought. A bunch of softies, he thought with a smile. Myself included. Even Lieutenant Barkham, whom everybody was kind of looking up to for advice because he represented the authority figure, the captain of the ship, and all that jazz, was not too skilled at getting by in the wilderness.

  Granted, he had just gotten word that some help was on the way, but Jakes was shocked to hear that things were going so bad everywhere that everybody else was
planning to come here.

  He tested his ankle tentatively, twisting it slowly and finally putting some pressure on it. Felt better, no more shooting pains, just a dull throbbing. He would probably be able to get around on it by the next day, although there wasn’t much of anywhere to go when you were perched halfway up a stone ziggurat.

  It was funny how the conversation would come in waves or flurries. It seemed to hit them in cycles. Everybody would be talking for a while, and then suddenly it would kind of peter out and there would be nothing but silence.

  Things were in a silent phase right now, and everybody seemed to be tuned in to the symphony of night sounds that could be heard cutting through the darkness like sharp knives, or maybe sharp teeth. Jakes had spent very little time in the Mesozoic preserve, and this whole experience was starting to get to him. He had, of course, gone through the usual love affair with dinosaurs as a kid, but now that he was out among the damned things, he would just as soon not ever see one. About the closest he had come to any of them was from the air, just passing over, thank you—but now there was the chance that he might be meeting one of the boys close up.

  His group was not terribly well armed—two automatic rifles and three sidearms—and Jakes had no idea what was needed to bring down the average predator. Every once in a while there would be some kind of hellacious scream or growl that would jump out of the forest below them, and it would seem so damned close that Jakes would swear the creatures were lurking right next to them. It was amazing how much louder everything sounded at night. It was probably the mind and the imagination up to their usual tricks, but Jakes didn’t care much about that.

  A vicious snarling tore open the silence, and everybody looked at each other. Whatever had made that noise had sounded damned close and damned big.

  “I wonder if they can smell us up here?” asked one of the young guys from the documentary crew.

  “Not unless you’re bleedin’,” said someone else. “You gotta be bleedin’.”

  “I thought that was just for sharks. These are dinosaurs, right?”

  “Hey, who cares,” one of the women said. “I mean, do we really want to know if those things can smell us from down there?”

  Everyone chuckled nervously and settled back into an uneasy silence. They all seemed to be studying the steady glow of the electric lantern as though it were about to dispense some important bit of Information instead of just light. Then there came a new sound, which made everyone become visibly more tense.

  A scrabbling, scratching sound.

  Sharp claws on rough stone, furiously churning and scritching, growing louder and more frenzied as it continued, accompanied by ravenous snarling—a slavering, bubbling sound of hunger and insanity.

  It was easily the most terrifying sound Bob Jakes had ever heard in his life.

  Shit! Is it getting louder because it’s getting more frantic or because it’s getting closer? He kept the question to himself for two reason: one, he didn’t want to alarm the others, and two, he didn’t really want to know the answer.

  Barkham and two of the tactical men moved out of the group toward the sloping edge of the pyramidal structure. One of them shone a flashlight down into the darkness.

  “There he is,” Jakes heard one of them say softly.

  “Jesus, he’s a pretty big one!” the other whispered, albeit loud enough for everyone to hear. “You think he could make it up here?”

  “I don’t think so,” Barkham said.

  “Well,” said the younger of the two troopers, taking aim with his automatic rifle, “I’m going to pop him one.”

  “No!” Barkham said. “Even if you kill him. all you’d do is draw a bunch of other ones to the spot. The scent of blood draws ’em out of the fucking woodwork.”

  Dropping his rifle, the trooper nodded while the other kept the light trained down toward the beast. Its crazy scratching was getting less rapid, and the message that it was too hard a climb finally starting to get to its dull, tiny brain. Good thing, too, thought Jakes. Between the noise and the trigger-happy staffers, Jakes didn’t know if he could stand this kind of tension all night long.

  If he could sincerely believe they were safe up on the ruins, it wouldn’t be so bad on the nerves, but the jury was still out on that particular deal.

  No one spoke for he didn’t know how long, then just as abruptly as the scrabbling had started, it ended.

  “Finally gave up,” said the trooper with the flashlight. “There he goes.”

  That seemed to be the signal for everyone to start talking, because suddenly there was a low murmur of conversation which gradually became louder until it seemed as if Jakes was the only one not talking. It went on like that until the earthquake started.

  At least it seemed like an earthquake, and that’s what everybody started yelling when the ground shook and the very foundations of the massive stone ruins began to vibrate and tremble. People started screaming and moving closer together, away from the edge of the edifice, where pieces of cut stone were starting to flake off and fall into the darkness.

  Jakes had to admit that it sure as hell felt like an earthquake, but he knew that was impossible. He also knew that there was only one thing that could cause the entire encapsulated world to vibrate and shake like tectonic plates being scraped so roughly together.

  Engines starting.

  THEY HAD requested that she change clothes before going down into the city of Hakarrh, and Kate Ennis had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea. The fashionable gown she had worn to the live broadcast had long ago been ruined. So now she stepped from the temple wearing a set of IASA standard-issue coveralls that were at least two sizes too large. She looked like a mechanic in a turn-of-the-century garage.

  “Not as flattering,” Phineas Kemp said when he saw her emerge. “But at least you won’t have to worry about it snagging on anything.”

  “Very funny,” Kate said.

  “Here, Ms. Ennis,” said Dr. Takamura, who handed her a small pendant device. “This is a digital translator. It’s been encoded for the Saurian language and English. You’ve seen how they operate, I assume.”

  “Yes,” she said with a nervous smile. “I can just wear it around my neck, right?”

  “That’s right,” Kemp said. “But remember that you have to wait after speaking for it to broadcast your message. Then you have to wait for it to translate whatever the Saurians say back to you.”

  “It just makes the whole process of communicating a little slower, a bit more awkward, perhaps,” said Takamura. “But equally effective—as long as you choose the proper words.”

  Kate looked at the young physicist. His oriental features were complemented by his dark eyes and thick dark hair. He was a handsome man with more dash and verve then she usually associated with scientists. He seemed to have more than his share of self-confidence and social graces, which many academic types seemed never to have learned.

  She smiled at him, then cleared her throat dramatically. “Yes, Doctor, choosing the proper words has been a problem for us humans for a long time, hasn’t it?”

  “Well put,” Takamura said. He performed a little mock bow, and Kate wondered if he might be making a pass at her in an offhand kind of way. He certainly could be a charmer when he wanted to be.

  Just then Corporal Potlack joined them and announced that he was as ready as he’d ever be. He carried an automatic rifle with extra ammo clips hanging from his belt. His helmet visor was flipped up, revealing his lean bearded face. Despite the man’s small build and height, he appeared quite formidable. Implanted headphones and a throat mike were also visible, and Kate wondered if she would have to wear similar gear.

  “All right,” Kemp said. “Remember to stay close together and head straight for the ‘condos.’ ”

  Kate smiled at the slang reference to the dwellings of the priest class, which had been cut, pueb
lo-style, into the face of the promontory above Hakarrh. They figured that that would be the safest place to attempt contact with the Saurians, since the lower castes were never allowed in the condos and the priest class didn’t seem to be as affected by the radiation madness that had raced through the other classes like a plague.

  “Don’t worry, Colonel,” Corporal Potlack said, smacking his weapon affectionately. “I won’t let anything happen to us.”

  “Okay, I guess that’s it,” Phineas said as he reached out and took Kate’s hand in both his own. “This is a courageous thing you’re doing, Kate. Good luck.”

  “I’m not sure how courageous I feel,” she said softly. “I just want to do something to help.”

  Kemp smiled apprehensively. “You’re doing more than anyone would ever ask of you.” Turning to Corporal Potlack, he gave the man a crisp salute.

  Following the trooper’s lead, Kate walked past the barricades and began to descend the steps. Everyone on the first line of defense began to clap, and the applause was mixed with cheers. Kate felt a swelling in her chest and tears in her eyes.

  They had covered perhaps one quarter of the distance down toward the boulevard when the applause died out. For a moment there was only silence. Kate scanned the area below and was pleased to see that it appeared to be deserted.

  Corporal Potlack stopped abruptly. “What’s that? You feel it?”

  At first Kate didn’t know what he was talking about, then she too felt a tingle of vibration in the massive stone steps. As she stood perfectly still, the vibration increased rapidly. Suddenly it was no longer a tingling in her boots but a full-fledged tremor. The immense set of steps seemed to be shifting and dipping away from her feet.