The Centauri Surprise

by Alastair Mayer

  Crap. Probably he could get the expedition scheduled later, since it was largely a cover story anyway, but Carson wanted to get out there as soon as he could. The more people who knew about it, the greater the chance of someone else getting there first. He pushed it. “But the survey may be over by then. This is a unique opportunity.”

  Matthews nodded. “You’re right, it is a valuable opportunity.”

  Yes!

  Matthews continued before Carson could say anything. “The department should be represented. I suppose I could go in your stead. I don’t want my field work to get too rusty.”

  No! Carson wondered if the dean just wanted to be in on any interesting archeological finds made. But there was no way Carson was going to miss out on finding what might be another pyramid, although that was not a find that Ducayne would want publicized. Having Matthew along, with or especially without Carson, was the last thing he needed.

  Carson thought quickly. “Of course,” he said. “I’m sure you’d be welcome to go along, if permission can be arranged. That might be tricky, even for me. This area hasn’t been surveyed; it’s part of the Anderson Wildlife Preserve, the domain of Finley’s leopard. I believe one of the things the ecologists want to do is take a census of the leopard population, balance that against the prey species, and get an idea how well they’re doing.” Matthews expression had changed, now looking more cautious than eager.

  Carson drove it home. “Funny thing about those leopards. I’ve heard their usual prey numbers are falling and the leopards are changing their hunting patterns. Apparently, they’ll eat almost anything if their preferred prey isn’t available.”

  “I see. But I assume the expedition will have guides, rangers?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. Finley’s leopard is considered an endangered species, so the guides will only have non-lethal weapons. Frankly I’m not sure how well they’d deter a hungry Finley’s leopard. Although, they’re probably no worse than some of the predators I’ve encountered on other planets; I’m sure the stories are exaggerated. If I were going, they’d probably make me leave my own sidearm behind.”

  “Of course,” Matthews said, looking uneasy. “Well, I’m sure it would be fine with a trained team.”

  “Oh, no doubt,” Carson said airily.

  “When did you say this expedition is, again?”

  “Just a couple of weeks from now, I only heard about it recently. I’ll have to check on the exact dates.”

  “Oh. A couple of weeks? That may not work for me after all.” Matthews made a show of checking the calendar on his omni. “Hmm,” he muttered. “Regents’ meeting, departmental reviews, damn.” He looked back up at Carson. “I don’t think that works with my calendar. Damned shame.”

  “Oh,” Carson forced disappointment into his voice. “So, the department won’t be represented? Maybe Jorgensen?”

  “Not his area of expertise, you know that.”

  Carson did know that, which was why he’d suggested that name. “Oh, you’re right. I think I could accommodate my class schedule, but maybe we should just forgo this one.”

  Matthews eyed Carson. Did he suspect? “I’ll tell you what. Because this is a unique opportunity, and such short notice, you can take three days. But make sure all your academic duties here are covered.”

  “Three days won’t let me cover much ground.” Actually, it should be more than enough for a quick look, but he wanted to let Matthews think he was winning this one.

  “You’ll just have to do the best you can. If you do find anything, we can look at organizing something longer after the semester is over.”

  Carson sighed and let his shoulders slump. “Oh, well, of course. Thank you.”

  “And listen, Carson. Keep me posted on what you find, and let me know if the schedule changes. Perhaps I can work it in.”

  “Certainly. I can take that as approval to go, then?”

  “So long as it doesn’t interfere with your teaching and other research duties, yes. But just three days.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep you informed.” Carson started to leave, then turned back briefly and, grinning, said, “So long as I don’t get eaten by a leopard.”

  Matthews just shook his head. “Try not to.”

  Carson left the office, wondering just how much Matthews would miss him if a leopard did eat him.

  CHAPTER 30: DUCAYNE

  Ducayne’s office

  “I DON’T KNOW HOW you managed it,” Ducayne said before Carson had a chance to explain anything, “but there is going to be an ecological survey, and soon.”

  “About that—” Carson managed to get out before Ducayne cut him off.

  “My sources say that both Pete Finley and Dr. Ellie Greystone were involved, so whatever you said to them, it worked. It also means they want you along, ‘to determine if the area contains anything of archeological significance’ as the official proposal puts it. There is one catch, though.”

  “A catch? What?” Carson said, deciding not to say anything just yet about the talisman.

  “More of a who. Alex Finley will be going with you to check out the structure.”

  “Finley?” Carson could guess whose idea that was. “Any relation to Peter?”

  “His grandson.”

  “So I’m going to have to babysit some kid—”

  “He’s twenty-two, not a kid. And he’s got field experience, I checked. I’ll give the Original Eight this, they raised their kids, and their grandkids, to be just as capable of surviving on a wild planet as they were.” Ducayne paused, then added as an aside, “If they were more interested in politics, I might worry about them thinking of setting up a hereditary aristocracy.”

  Carson ignored the latter; Ducayne had strange priorities. “Okay, so long as he can take care of himself. I’m almost surprised Pete himself didn’t want to come along.”

  “He did, but he knows that would attract too much attention. The downside of being a public figure,” Ducayne said. “Anyway, I’ll send you the other details. Was there something else you wanted to see me about?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “All right then. Thanks for coming by.”

  With that, Ducayne ushered Carson from his office.

  CHAPTER 31: EXPEDITION

  Sawyers World, 60 km from Camp Anderson

  A TRIO OF AIRCARS flew over the grassy terrain north-west of Camp Anderson. Carson and Alex Finley were in the lead car, with Finley doing the piloting. Despite Carson’s earlier misgivings, he had taken a liking to the young man, who came across as both friendly and competent. That was more than could be said for some of the heirs to wealth and influence that Carson had encountered on Earth.

  “There’s an open field about five kilometers from the peak,” Finley said. “My grandparents first landed there when they came to check it out. At least, it was an open field fifty years ago; it’s probably overgrown a bit since then, but we don’t have to worry about runway length.”

  Carson had reviewed the relevant mission reports. Naomi Maclaren and Pete Finley had flown to the site in the Anderson expedition’s fixed-wing electroplane. This “ecological survey” expedition was in aircars that could set down vertically and were enough for their needs. If serious digging were required, they’d need a helicopter to bring in gear.

  “That will be fine for now,” Carson said. “We might want to find somewhere closer if there’s any heavy excavation involved, to get the equipment in.”

  “We can work that out as needed. But we’re going to keep the explosive ground clearing to a minimum.” Alex had heard about Carson’s impromptu fuel-air bomb to clear a landing spot for the Sophie near the Verdigris pyramid.

  “Spoilsport,” Carson said, and grinned.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The aircars were challenged as they approached the boundary of the wildlife preserve.

  “Warning, aircar X2Z-375,” a robotic voice came over the radio, the automated system picking up the cars registration code. “You
are approaching Anderson Wildlife Preserve, a prohibited area. Unauthorized entry is subject to fine. Unauthorized landing or disturbing of the wildlife is subject to penalties up to and including confiscation of your vehicle and jail time.”

  “I thought we had clearance,” Carson said, looking at Finley.

  “We do. One moment.” Finley tapped out a command on the car’s dash panel and hit SEND.

  A moment later, the same robotic voice came back with “Authorization code received and acknowledged. X2Z-375 and two accompanying vehicles approved for entry to the reserve. Enjoy your stay.”

  Finley confirmed with the others that they too had been cleared, and continued on course.

  “Can we overfly the pyramid first? I’d like to see it from the air.”

  “Sure, although we don’t know for sure that it is a pyramid.” Finley angled the aircar towards the peak rising above the trees in the distance.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  A few minutes later they were above Pete’s Peak, which still looked like the overgrown hill it had seemed from aerial photographs. The sides were steep and flat, with scrubby vegetation and the occasional small tree growing out of the dirt on its sides.

  “Doesn’t look like much to me,” Alex said. “A little too regular to be a volcanic neck, perhaps.”

  To Carson’s eye, there was more to it. He could see the resemblance that Pete Finley had noted with unexcavated pyramids in the Yucatan, but unlike the stepped structures there, this one had smooth sides. “See how sparse the vegetation is on the sides?” Carson said, “How small the trees are?”

  “Yes, what of it?”

  “That means the soil layer is thin. There’s not enough for them to build up a deep root structure. Anything growing too tall will tend to uproot itself, although on that slope they won’t get much water anyway.”

  Alex considered that. “You could still get that over volcanic rock, couldn’t you?”

  “Perhaps,” Carson said, “but that’s more likely to have cracks that roots could find their way into. It’s suggestive, not conclusive.”

  “If you say so. What now?”

  “Let’s find our landing site. I want to check this out from ground level.”

  “Roger that.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  As they approached the landing site about ten minutes later, Carson studied it from the air. It was more overgrown that he expected, no doubt the result of another thirty-some years—fifty Earth-standard years—of growth since the first expedition here. But there was something else about it. The clearing’s boundaries, at least on the side nearest the peak, seemed unusually straight. He might want to follow up on that.

  The three aircars set down in the cleared area, and the crew began to unload gear. “I’m going to take a walk around,” Carson told Alex. “I’m curious about this clearing.”

  “Don’t wander into the woods. I’d hate to lose you before we get started.”

  Carson grinned. “So would I.”

  He started by pacing the full length of the clearing, from the northwest, where it just sort of faded out into ever taller vegetation and brush, to the southeast, where the demarcation between clearing and forest was more distinct. Beneath the grassy vegetation, the soil of the clearing seemed harder toward the southeast side, more compact. It didn’t seem to make any difference to the grass, but there were fewer small bushes. At the edge of the clearing, a thin margin of saplings and younger trees quickly gave way to taller, thicker, and obviously older ones.

  That was strange. He would have expected a gradual transition all around, as it was on the northwest side. Clearings like this were often the result of a natural progression, from a small lake or pond which filled in or drained to become a bog, then a meadow, then a clearing with a few bushes or small trees as it was now, eventually becoming just another part of the forest. That process worked from the edges inward, but here it seemed very distinct. A change in the soil might do it, or if part of the field had been artificially cleared. But that was impossible. This couldn’t be more than one or two hundred standard years old, and the natives whose stone artifacts had been found had been gone for a thousand times that—and had likely never had agriculture.

  There was something else that might have done it, Carson realized, but he would need more evidence. He headed back to help finish setting up the camp.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Find anything interesting?” Alex Finley asked him when he returned.

  “I think there’s something funny about this clearing,” Carson said. “At least the southeast half of it. But right now it’s more just a feeling than anything specific. Anyway, I don’t think it has anything to do with our paleolithic hunter-gatherers. Anything from them is going to be under the surface a ways.”

  “Want to do a survey with the ground-penetrating radar?”

  “I just might, at that, but it will keep for now.” He wasn’t sure if anything would show up if it was what he thought, but if anything did, he wasn’t sure he wanted this team, however well security screened, to be aware of it. Fifteen-thousand-year-old pyramids were one thing, but signs that a Kesh pyramid ship had landed within the last century or two were another.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Next day

  RIGHT AFTER BREAKFAST the five-person bio-survey team began laying out the grid they would use to quantify and locate their findings, the official reason for this expedition. Meanwhile, Carson, Alex Finley, and their nominal guide, Steve Dundee, set off for Pete’s Peak. It was a five-kilometer straight-line trek through the forest.

  “You know,” Finley said, “when Naomi and Pete made their trip, they followed a homing signal from a beacon they dropped on the way in. We have navsats now, so we should have an easier time of it.” He stopped and made a point of looking around at the trees. “Somehow I’m not convinced.”

  “No kidding,” Dundee said. “Satellite photos are only going to show the treetops, and there’s no call for radar maps, not with the place off-limits to the general public.”

  “Oh, I know,” Finley said. “I’m more amused than anything else.”

  “It could be worse,” Carson said. “You should try hacking through the jungle on Verdigris. This place doesn’t even have ribbon snakes.”

  “Ribbon snakes?” Finley asked.

  “A kind of flying snake,” Dundee said before Carson could answer. “They glide out of treetops. The green ones, jade ribbon snakes, have one of the most toxic venoms known. Nothing like that around here, although keep away from any red snakes.”

  “You’ve been to Verdigris?” Carson asked Dundee.

  “Yeah, did a stint with a biologicals company there. Came back when I decided I didn’t like the place. Jungle aside, I missed the stars.”

  Carson understood. The almost ever-present skyweed made starry nights rare on Verdigris.

  The trio maintained a brisk pace, with Dundee moving ahead of the other two then falling back to let them pass, checking both ahead and behind for any signs of predators. After a while, Carson began to find this irritating.

  “Is all that back and forth really necessary? It kind of feels like you’re herding us. I’ve been in wilder terrain than this.”

  “Sorry you feel that way. It’s partly for your protection, but it’s also to protect the animals. I know you’ve been on frontier worlds, but they probably didn’t have any rules about just shooting an animal causing you trouble. This place is unique. Even though much of the planet is far more settled than some of your frontier worlds, this preserve is relatively untouched, so the animals haven’t learned to avoid humans. And because it’s a preserve, you’re not allowed to shoot them.”

  “What about the weapon you’re carrying?” Carson had been forced to leave his personal sidearm back at the camp, something he was not happy about.

  “It’s a last resort, and it shoots shock darts. Mostly I know what to watch for and can avoid it or scare it off.”

  Carson knew he ha
d a point. Someone unfamiliar with an area wouldn’t know what was normal and what might be dangerous, and would have a natural tendency to either under- or over-react. “How much of a problem is it really, though?” he asked.

  Dundee shrugged. “There have been a few incidents over the years. The leopards have been known to attack humans, and you’ll get the occasional terror bird too. They’re actually more aggressive than the leopards.”

  “I thought terror birds stuck to open ranges?” Finley said.

  “Mostly, yeah, but they’ve been seen in forested areas too, probably in pursuit of prey. Anyway, that’s just the big predators. There are some smaller, venomous animals to worry about too, like redsnakes. For that matter, the tusks and hooves on an uglibeast can mess you up pretty badly if it takes a dislike to you.”

  Carson could imagine. An uglibeast was something like a wild boar, but uglier and with bigger teeth. On the other hand, they did make good eating. “How does a shock dart do against an uglibeast? They can be pretty big, can’t they?”

  “Up to two hundred kilos or so, yes. Still, a dart packs a punch; it will put even an uglibeast down for a minute or two. Best to avoid such animals though.”

  “Got it,” Carson said, then deadpanned: “Leopards, and terror birds, and uglibeasts, oh my.”

  Dundee grinned. “That’s the spirit. Just stay on the yellow brick road.”

  Carson looked at the low undergrowth on the forest floor, small bushes and ferns, punctuated here and there with pink, tri-petaled flowers, and wondered if there might indeed be some kind of road beneath the dirt. There hadn’t been anything like that near the pyramid on St. Jacobs, and if there had been at the Verdigris pyramid, it had been hidden under meters of sand and soil. I’ll settle for a grey-pink pyramid, he thought.

  CHAPTER 32: RICO REVISITED

  Somewhere in Sawyer City