Argonauts 2: You Are Prey

by Isaac Hooke

  A glow appeared ahead, overlaying the LIDAR display. That would be the first crossroads. In moments the squad reached the branching area. Vertical light bars bordered the different passageways that led away to the north, east and west.

  “So, Surus?” Rade said. “Left or right.”

  “Straight ahead.”

  And so they continued forward, leaving behind the light once more.

  As Shaw had suggested earlier, they hugged the walls when any gatorbeetles came past, and crunched their bodies into tight balls, thus avoiding the V-shaped feelers that extended from the heads of the aliens. Not once did the passing creatures notice any of them, or even pause, as the gatorbeetles often did when the HS3s slunk by.

  Those HS3 scouts filled out the explored regions on the overhead map, slowly peeling back the fog of war that was the alien nest. By the time Bender reached the T intersection, the lead HS3 had arrived at a small cavern. It seemed to be a trade zone of some kind.

  Rade accessed the scout’s video feed and switched off the LIDAR overlay because more glow bars in the area provided illumination. Lining the walls, fat gatorbeetles resided in front of individual baskets that seemed woven from silk; the long, boat-like shapes gave Rade the impression that the different creatures had carried those baskets there on their backs. Inside them were various trade goods, Rade thought. One contained golden, translucent cubes that appeared to be made of amber of some kind. Another was full of dyed, bamboo-like pipes, each a different color. The proprietor lingering in front of the latter had several of those pipes stuffed into the air tubules that ran along its upper thorax.

  “See that,” Manic said. “Even aliens perform body augmentation. It’s a sign of a highly-evolved, and highly-developed species.”

  “That’s right, try to defend your dick piercing,” Bender said.

  Other gatorbeetles moved to and fro among the stalls. One of them approached a basket filled with white, squirming larvae as big as Rade’s arm. With a prehensile forelimb, the client gatorbeetle reached into a small pouch hanging below its thorax and produced a thick white crystal. It gave that to the vendor; the recipient promptly grabbed a larva from the basket and handed it to the customer. The patron brought the squealing larva to its mandibles and took a bite before ambling off. A drooping thread of white goo continued to connect the severed portion of the larva to the gatorbeetle’s maw; below the head, the throat repeatedly expanded and contracted as if the inner esophagus was crushing or chewing the food.

  “Yummy!” Bender said. “Hey Lui, does that sight bring out the foodie in you? I bet you’re in the mood for maggot!”

  “Is that what you call the snake you keep in your pants?” Shaw said.

  “Oh I’m sufficiently aroused all right,” Lui replied. “Enough to vomit. On both accounts.”

  “Surus, do we take that cavern?” Rade asked.

  Surus retreated down the opposite turn off of the T intersection, then came back a moment later. “At this point, I don’t know. From far away, I can perceive the general direction of a given prey, but as we get closer, it becomes impossible to determine with any accuracy the direction the Phant resides. I suppose we will simply map out the entirety of this nest, if we have to.”

  “Not sure I’m looking forward to that,” Manic said.

  “It should become obvious where our prey resides, soon enough,” Surus said. “At least to me. I will keep you all informed.”

  The lead HS3 crossed the cavern, heading toward an opening on the far side. In the dim light produced by the vertical glow bars, Rade realized the antennae of most of the buyers were decorated with gold and silver-colored rings near the bases.

  “See those rings?” Shaw said. “Looks like even alien societies follow rich-poor hierarchies and power dynamics. This looks suspiciously like elite individuals buying from a poor underclass.”

  Rade saw two gatorbeetles standing on either side of the exit, wearing the familiar red bands with the small bells around their upper right forelegs. They wore none of the gold and silver rings. More sentries.

  The HS3 maneuvered past the searching antenna and into the tunnel beyond. It was wider than the previous passages before the trade zone, with the pedestrian traffic to match. Sometimes two or three gatorbeetles advanced abreast down the middle of the passage; whenever one or more of the insects encountered any of the others traveling in the opposite direction, the gatorbeetles would swerve to the side and let them pass before returning to the middle again. Usually those carrying fewer rings on their antennae deferred to the gatorbeetles that possessed more. However, everyone yielded to the sentries with the red bands.

  “Looks like these creatures are nocturnal,” Tahoe said. “They’re out in their evening finest.”

  “Keep to the center of the room,” Rade said when the Argonauts reached the trade zone for themselves. A clear path ran through the middle of the cavern as the customers browsed the baskets of the vendors set up along the walls.

  The squad members moved past the different stalls. Around Rade, the patrons and vendors communicated by producing that mandible-sourced chittering, as well as occasionally touching the tips of each other’s antennae together.

  “Harlequin, I want you to sample and record all the sounds you hear these aliens using,” Rade said. “Look for patterns. Greetings, goodbyes, and so forth. We may need to use small snippets at some point.”

  “On it,” Harlequin replied.

  Rade nearly got stepped on at one point as a gatorbeetle backed away from a basket, and he barely dodged to the side.

  The squad avoided the searching antennae of the sentries near the exit, and proceeded into the wider, more trafficked tunnel beyond, where they were occasionally forced to halt while waiting for the creatures to defer to one another. One time Fret was accidentally touched by an antenna, but all that did was confuse the involved gatorbeetle, which halted in place, seeming to think it had encountered an obstacle.

  The deeper the squad traveled into the nest, the more vulnerable Rade felt. If something went wrong now, they would have a hell of a fight to the surface. He wondered how many of these so-called civilian gatorbeetles would actually participate in the attack, versus leaving the fighting to the sentries and other guards. Probably more than a few would partake: to these creatures, he and his team would be comparable to a bunch of felines running around.

  Though the aliens would quickly learn that he and his team were felines with a bite.

  Then again, he had no idea how effective the laser rifles would prove against those carapaces. But he somehow doubted those shells were naturally anti-laser.

  The lead HS3 reached a T intersection and took the rightmost branch. The other HS3s followed in due time, as did Rade and the others.

  In the latest tunnel, smaller corridors almost continually branched away to the left and right. Rade had an HS3 enter one of those corridors, and discovered that it terminated in a moderately-sized chamber. Inside were various objects that could have best been described as furniture and personal belongings, with a gatorbeetle lounging in the center on a patterned mat of some sort, using its prehensile forearms to manipulate a strange object—basically two sticks connected by strands of silk. Rade guessed it was a game of some sort. Either that or some kind of primitive knitting machine. Yeah, he had no idea.

  The HS3s explored a few more of the side chambers, and discovered additional gatorbeetles residing within, sometimes families of two or three. That particular subterranean area appeared to be a residential quarter.

  Eventually they reached a dead end and had to backtrack, taking an alternate passageway through yet another residential section.

  For the next several hours, the squad wandered aimlessly like that around the inside of the nest, taking right turns until reaching a dead end, then backtracking to the next available rightmost passage. The overhead map continued to fill out, to the point where they had mapped a full fifteen percent of the nest, at least in relation to the size of the surface h
illock. They discovered mostly more of the same: trade zones and residential neighborhoods. They did pass by the alien equivalent of restaurants and grocery stores now and again, with gatorbeetles dining or purchasing the familiar white larvae prepared in various manners: half the time still alive, the other half withered. They were often coated in different colored slimes that must have been the alien equivalent of herbs and spices.

  The Argonauts occasionally came across bigger, town square-style crossroads, usually decorated with various statues and columns that seemed formed out of stalactites and stalagmites. There was often an object of interest at the center, such as a statue of a gatorbeetle or larva, with a plinth at the based covered in what looked like antennae impressions. Smaller gatorbeetles usually lingered around the central fixtures of those squares. The jobless youth, perhaps, subsisting on the alien equivalent of basic pay.

  The HS3s mapped out one crossroads that seemed to be a work in progress. Some gatorbeetles cut into the rock with their mandibles, expanding the extents. Others were swallowing the refuse matter piled into dark cones beside the walls, their esophagus’ pumping; a moment later they would expectorate the material onto half-formed statues or other adornments, slowly adding to the shapes.

  “Look at that,” Bender said. “These bugs are big, natural 3D printers. Every house should have one.”

  “We’ll have to get you one as a pet,” Lui said.

  “You could try,” Bender said. “But somehow I don’t think my ‘pet’ would survive the first day in my household.”

  “But it could 3D-print you a pussy!” Manic said.

  “And when it does, I’ll be sure to call you over,” Bender replied.

  “Sounds divine,” Manic said.

  “I’m sure it does.”

  Eventually they reached a larger tunnel that seemed to have more of the gatorbeetles with the red leg bands on patrol. Those guards would often touch the tips of their antennae when their courses intersected, and then one or the other would promptly turn around. Rade guessed those guards employed some kind of pheromonal signaling, similar to what ants and other hive insects used.

  Several side openings in that region led to corridors filled with cells carved into the rock. Inside those cells, larvae undergoing various stages of growth were encased in a translucent yellow substance that reminded Rade of honey.

  “This seems to be where they rear their offspring,” Tahoe said.

  “You think?” Bender replied.

  “Could also be where they grow their food,” Shaw said.

  “Maybe they eat their own babies,” Lui said. “Some of these larvae look suspiciously like the squealing worms we see them eating all the time.”

  “Why does that thought sicken me?” Shaw said.

  “It sickens all of us,” Tahoe replied. “But it would make some sense, given how scarce the natural resources are on this world, after what the Phants did to them.”

  Eventually the lead HS3 arrived at a wide cavern. Multiple passageways led away on all sides. Between them, vertical glow bars provided dim lighting. The cavern itself was empty, save for a pair of sentries flanking a large boulder set into a hole in the far wall. Intricate designs, mostly seeming to represent other gatorbeetles, engraved the surface of the boulder.

  “So what now?” TJ said.

  “That boulder, and those sentries...” Rade said. “They’re obviously guarding something they consider important.”

  “Maybe it’s their equivalent of a governmental center?” Tahoe said. “Or, considering that these aliens are preindustrial, a royal palace.”

  “That would be a logical inference,” Harlequin said. “But the question is, would it be worth our time to infiltrate such a place? In other words, would our Phant reside here?”

  “Phants do like to burrow their way into the upper hierarchies of societies,” Surus said. “They prefer power, and the trappings that go with it. So there is a good chance, if this is indeed their equivalent of a royal palace, that we will find our prey somewhere inside. And if he is truly searching for some artifact left here by his hive in ancient times, this would be the best place to gather the necessary resources he might need to find it.”

  As Rade watched, a gatorbeetle wearing two silver rings on each of its antennae approached the boulder. It was a rather plump specimen, with a swollen thorax. The area surrounding its mandibles and eyes—its “facial” region—was powdered white, as if it wore makeup.

  The gatorbeetle rubbed its mandibles together, and one of the sentries chittered in response. The newcomer touched its antennae tips to those of the sentry, then the guard stepped back, chittered something toward its companion, then the two sentries hurled their entire body weight against the boulder, forcing it deeper into the hole.

  The HS3 repositioned to get a better view of what lay beyond; meanwhile the silver-ringed creature skittered inside the crack that formed between the hole and boulder. Two gatorbeetles that were apparently waiting inside near the entrance emerged, carrying small yellowish blobs in their mandibles. When all of the aliens were clear, the sentries released their hold on the boulder. The floor immediately beyond it must have been sloped, because when the gatorbeetles eased up, the boulder promptly rolled back into place and sealed the gap.

  “That looks like a good place to camp out if we wanted to get inside,” Tahoe said.

  “It does indeed,” Rade said.

  He pulled up the video recorded by the HS3 during the moment when the sentries had rolled the boulder inward, and played it back at one-fiftieth the speed and zoomed in. Beyond, it appeared an even more spacious cavern awaited. The floor was uneven, covered in a series of mounds as if past occupants had spent an inordinate amount of time lingering in one place and wearing away the rock before moving onto another section of the floor.

  He caught a glimpse of what looked like three gatorbeetles crowded together near the far side of the cavern, their backs to the entryway. And that was all he saw before the boulder descended back into place.

  “All right Argonauts, keep moving,” Rade ordered. “We make our way to that boulder. Bender, I want you to send the lead HS3 inside the next time a gatorbeetle enters.”

  “You got it.”

  But no other alien arrived by the time Rade and company reached the cavern. The three HS3s lingered invisibly by the boulder as the hidden squad members took up positions nearby. Those HS3s kept far enough away from the gatorbeetles to prevent any rotor prop wash from reaching them, of course.

  Rade quickly grew sick of waiting, and dispatched the HS3s to begin exploring the different passageways that branched off around them. The scouts moved as far as signal range permitted, but discovered nothing else as interesting as the current cavern. Gatorbeetles occasionally emerged from the various side passageways and into the cavern, but none of them approached the boulder, instead crossing the chamber to take a different exit tunnel.

  At the two-hour mark, Rade recalled the HS3s and began to despair that those sentries would ever roll the boulder aside again.

  “Surus,” Rade said. “Could we modify the holographic emitters to create an illusory gatorbeetle? Like the one we saw gain entrance?”

  “Unfortunately, even if I succeed in creating the perfect illusion,” Surus said. “And replay the exact same chittering the newcomer used to greet the guard, we have no way to emulate the antennae tips.”

  “Maybe we can tap their antennae with our gloves?” Fret said.

  “I believe they are not simply touching antennae,” Surus said. “There has to be a pheromonal chemical exchange taking place. And we have no way to emulate that.”

  “It’s essentially a biometric scanner, isn’t it?” Tahoe said.

  “Yes,” Surus said.

  “I say we camp out in the tunnels and capture the first fat bug that comes passing by,” Bender said. “Then we chop off its antennae, come back here, reprogram our emitters, and use our newly acquired goods to get past the sentries. Lopping off the body parts o
f my enemies is my favorite method of bypassing biometrics, after all.”

  “The chemical signatures of the pheromones are likely produced by the feelers in realtime,” Surus said. “When you touch the dead tips to the antennae, all you’ll do is confuse the sentry. No, the best course of action at the moment is to wait.”

  “We could always shoot them down,” Bender said. “Then roll the boulder aside ourselves.”

  “Yeah, and bring the whole nest down on us,” Manic said. “That’s a great way to send the Phant fleeing.”

  “We wait, for now,” Rade said.

  Finally, shortly thereafter an enormously corpulent gatorbeetle entered from one of the tunnels and approached the entrance. Once again, the facial region around the mandibles and eyes was powdered white, though even more profusely than the previous gatorbeetle. The bottom halves of its antennae were coated in a gaudy layer of rings that clearly restricted the motion of those feelers, judging from the jerky motions the antennae made.

  “All right, Bender, send in the HS3s the moment that boulder rolls inward. Everyone else, get ready to enter behind our friend. It might be a while before the next gatorbeetle comes by requesting entry, so if the chamber beyond looks safe, we’re going in. Tahoe, organize us into two fire teams for entry on the left and right.”

  The fat gatorbeetle exchanged chitters with a sentry, and deigned to offer the tips of its antennae. The sentry touched those feelers with its own, then on cue turned around and pushed at the boulder with the second guard.

  Rade caught a glimpse of the uneven-floored cavern beyond. He spotted the three gatorbeetles huddled on the far side, ignoring the entrance. Everything seemed unchanged from before.

  Only one gatorbeetle was waiting to depart that time.

  “Looks clear,” Rade said as the waiting creature emerged and the other entered. “Let’s go.”

  The Argonauts ducked between the two sentries and into the crack formed by the boulder and the gap. The first fire team took the left side, the second, the right.

  As the last of them entered the cavern beyond, the boulder rolled shut with a resounding thud behind them.