In terms of colonization, the natives would present no threat to his plans. A small team equipped with modern weapons could deal with them when the time came. The problem was that any casual inspection of the field data by United Earth inspectors would reveal that the beings were intelligent — that information would have to be kept strictly confidential.
Janzen had come here determined to implement a desperate, lethal strategy. Karic had given him no choice. The engineer had failed to respond to reasoning, financial motivation or any of the levers of ambition that had shifted his stubborn mind before. Ibri and Andrai were easy to sway, and even Mara, despite her whiplash temper and her drive for independence, could be easily manipulated by his array of tactics. Yet despite Janzen’s determination to do what was necessary to defend his family and his fortune — and do it without delay — he could not help but pause and watch the aliens’ bizarre activities.
Food seemed to be the central focus of their world.
Three other groups were busy creating artworks from the piles of gathered foods — nothing else was used. Two of the groups were large, almost a hundred in each, the gathered creatures marked with iridescent green on their crowns. Their raw-food sculptures grew rapidly, each of the aliens working in a seamless team to produce weird shapes with a clear pattern of tessellation, but no discernible analogue to anything he could recognize. They used a sticky green sap from one of the fruits to glue their materials together, licking the stuff from their fingers when they were done. They sung as they moved, each group’s choral efforts forming a distinct element in the overall tapestry of song. A smaller group, with dark purple markings, was at work on a third shape. These sang in a brash bass, and here Janzen did recognize their work. The hairs on his arms stood on end as a wave of goose pimples flushed across his skin. They were producing an exact replica of Karic’s pod, each aerodynamic feature, turret and jet nozzle replicated with exact precision. Was this some sort of cargo cult? Like the natives of New Guinea after World War Two, who produced exact replicas of landing strips, air control towers and hangars from bamboo and palm-leaf thatch in the hope of attracting the “great birds” that brought them gifts from the gods?
One of the green-crowned groups, well ahead of their competitors, stood back from their completed sculpture and formed a ring. They sang a single chord of stunning power, then raced in toward the artwork, attacking it in a frenzy. Each ripped off the nearest piece and began stuffing the food into their huge mouths. They sat back, grinding the stuff to multicolored paste between their big, flat teeth. Then, swallowing, they would go back for more, not in the least concerned they were destroying hours of work. No doubt a similar fate awaited the other two uncompleted sculptures.
Other smaller, mixed groups were gathered around the open hearths, undertaking complex cooking procedures with hundreds of steps. In addition to the raw foods, these native chefs used other ingredients that had been gathered or prepared earlier. Some of them were roasting foods, while others used cooking pots of woven bark, the fluid inside bubbling and steaming above the flames. The exercise consumed their full attention, their focus almost manic in its intensity. They would take a pinch of this, or a small handful of something else from containers crafted from seed pods or woven grasses or reeds, and use these carefully in their preparations.
Some were more solitary. A scattered few of a taller, less bulky type of alien with a stark red crown stalked restlessly around the camp’s outskirts, always on their own, yet still munching on food as they went. Perhaps they were ostracized by the others. Some sort of color-based discrimination?
Not all the creatures were active. Some lay on the thick green turf of the village clearing, lost in torpor, the remnants of their meals scattered around them in piles of abandoned husks and shredded vegetable matter.
Second. Select a target.
He looked closer at the towering tree in the center of the settlement. Janzen had ignored it earlier, but now he could see that its branches had been deliberately interwoven into a continuous dome. So it was clearly important to the natives, and was the focus of the pod-running game. Perhaps it even had some sort of religious meaning — so much the better.
The rain stopped and he stared down at the pit.
His mouth was dry as he lifted the field glasses. He scanned the camp and wondered how much the natives’ skins might be worth on the black markets of Earth. ExploreCorp would probably even fund an archaeological expedition — once they were all dead.
It had been an easy matter to delete Andrai’s message log to Mara and replace it with his own while Andrai was completing the installation of the defensive shield. There was nothing like sowing a little dissention.
Janzen lowered his field glasses.
He licked his cracked lips. A flush of fury heated his skin as he remembered, yet again, how Karic removed him from command. A Davis. An executive of ExploreCorp!
Janzen swallowed down his anger like the poisonous bile it was. Victory could only come from a clear head. Strategy. Planning. And cold-blooded execution.
Third. Initiate distraction as required.
He shifted his field-glasses from hand to hand, wiping away a sudden sheen of sweat.
Fourth. Feign rescue attempt.
He clenched his jaw. He was a Davis. A cut above the sweating, swarming masses of humanity that served his family’s empire. After two hundred years, he refused to let the dynasty fall.
Fifth. Kill Karic.
Janzen swiveled his field-glasses toward the pit. From his elevated position, he could just see Karic waiting motionless inside the hole, watching the camp. The pit was covered with a tight grid of heavy stalks, similar to bamboo, and was not guarded.
Janzen’s breathing was ragged. His heart thumped in his chest.
He signaled to Andrai.
They backed away into the jungle, circling lower down the hill toward the camp, XR32s held ready. They paused on the edge of the forest clearing.
He released the safety catch on his XR32 and looked at Andrai. The tech was cautious as usual, pausing to watch the camp. Well, this was one time he was not going to wait.
Janzen stepped forward eagerly.
He felt Andrai’s hand on his arm.
“Hold on, Janzen. Not yet,” said Andrai.
Janzen shook off the hand. “What?”
Karic had infected them all with his little mutiny. He could not believe this was the same lowly tech who would never question an order.
Andrai looked at him suspiciously. “Why are you so eager to get in there, Janzen?”
Janzen dripped with perspiration, his knuckles white on the grip of his XR32. He forced himself to relax.
“Look. Karic is in that pit, and we have to rescue him. Now. Who knows what they will do to him if we wait?” It was the same draw card he used earlier to get Andrai to break Mara’s orders. He watched with satisfaction as doubt and concern filled the tech’s eyes.
“That’s why we had to get here quickly,” said Andrai. “But now that we have him under observation, we should wait until we have a link to Mara and Ibri at the pod. Besides, the longer we wait, the more prepared we are. We can get their exact numbers, get some idea of their weapons. We can’t just run straight in. Not if Karic is not threatened.”
“We have watched them. They have no weapons. One blast from this will send them running,” said Janzen holding up the XR32. “They are savages, Andrai. Can you give me one good reason to wait?” He had to get this over with. It was distasteful, lowly work for a Davis, but it had to be done.
“Well? Can you give me one good reason and back it up?” said Janzen, his chest heaving.
“The linkup is more than thirty minutes away,” said Andrai. He looked into the alien camp, and the pit where Karic was imprisoned. His face creased in frustration, Andrai tapped his comband. “Mara? Are you reading me? Mara? Acknowledge!”
There was a hiss of static, broken twice by a garbled squeal. Janzen’s stomach clenched as — just
for a moment — he thought he heard Mara’s voice. But that was impossible. Without the link, she would have to be within a kilometer of their position. Christ! Of course. She had followed them. Damn her. Now his timeline was more compressed than ever. He probably had less than ten minutes.
Janzen forced a carefully neutral expression on his face. “See. Nothing. It is up to us, Andrai. We cannot falter now. We have to act while we can.”
Andrai turned off the link with a tap and gave a slight nod. “OK, Janzen. You’ve convinced me. We go together. A quick thrust in, rescue Karic and out again. We can link to Mara after the rescue and let her know he’s safe.”
“Good. Come on,” said Janzen, marching forward.
***
Karic looked up through the bars. He had bruises all over his body from the rough handling of the natives — the Imbirri, Utar had called them. The burn on his arm throbbed angrily. Despite the pain, he smiled with relief when he saw Janzen advance from the overhanging branches.
“My God, Janzen. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Karic never thought he would be happy to see Janzen, but he was. Andrai followed behind Janzen, moving more cautiously.
Janzen held his XR32 at the ready, scanning the camp. His movements were awkward in the heavy gravity. His face was set with a grim determination so at odds with his usual charismatic nonchalance it took Karic back a moment. This was a side of Janzen he had never seen before — this attempted rescue showed he was willing to set aside their differences when it really mattered.
The aliens, busy on their food sculptures, did not see the two intruders at first, intent on their work. The third group was still busily pulling apart their artwork in a frenzy of noisy eating.
The Imbirri playing the pod game stopped immediately. Their singing ceased and they became completely motionless. They swiftly arranged themselves in a long line, starting at the tree and radiating out into the camp. They shuffled in place, some swapping positions until they settled on an order. Then the alien closest to the tree — the first in line — pushed through its low-hanging branches and disappeared inside its leaf-shrouded dome.
Movement drew Karic’s eye. One of the aliens lying motionless on the turf, with a bright green crown, sat up suddenly. It studied Janzen and Andrai for the space of a breath then sang a low, tremulous note. Immediately, the beings at work on the sculptures froze. Those eating dropped their food to the turf. A moment later, all of them surged into a flurry of motion, arranging themselves into a large semicircle on the far side of the tree. Once again, they changed positions until satisfied with the order, then they began to sing together, their black, bulbous eyes fixed on the approaching humans. The aliens that remained asleep on the grass grew alert at the sound of this new song, pushing themselves to their feet. Some joined the chorus, others stood in tense stillness, eyes fixed on the intruders.
A high note sounded from inside the tree. Then a second. Another voice sang in response, followed by a chorus of joined voices that was stunning in its beauty and complexity. Those singing outside immediately changed their weaving songs to harmonize with the new chorus. Karic had little time for the music. He just wanted to get out. He lost sight of Janzen and Andrai as they came down the hill into the camp.
Karic lifted himself up to get a better view of the camp.
“Over here!”
Janzen saw him, but did not respond.
Andrai and Janzen talked quickly, then Janzen moved toward the pit while Andrai watched the large group of aliens around the tree, his XR32 pointed straight at them.
Janzen was soon at the side of the pit. He looked back to Andrai, whose back was turned, then back to Karic. His eyes were set like chips of blue ice.
“Janzen. Call Andrai back. You’ll need help with the lattice cover. It weighs a ton,” said Karic.
Janzen took aim at Karic.
Karic quickly ducked back inside the cage. “Janzen, you bastard!” His heart leapt into a sprint. His head spun with a sense of unreality. Janzen was here to kill him.
He looked desperately around the pit. He was trapped!
“Keep still!” Janzen’s voice was thick with tension.
Inside the pit, Karic could hear Janzen as he worked his way around the edge, trying to get him back into his sights. Crouched back against the wall, Karic thought rapidly. He had only seconds. What the hell was going on? Janzen would never have convinced Andrai to help him with murder. Of course. Andrai.
“Andrai! Over here!” yelled Karic. “Over here! Andrai! We need help with the cover! We need help with the cover!” Karic knew his shouting might provoke the aliens, but it was that or die.
Karic saw one of Janzen’s booted feet on the bamboo lattice, then Janzen came into view. Looming over the top of the pit, he started to raise his XR32, but then hastily lowered it again.
“What is it?” It was Andrai, calling to him as he ran up to the pit.
Janzen swiftly holstered his gun and made a show of trying to lift the heavy lid.
So I was right. Janzen is acting alone.
Karic watched Janzen through the bars, trying to understand what would drive the self-serving elitist to murder. “What was it? Taking your command?”
Janzen’s eyes flicked to meet Karic’s, then back to Andrai. They were cold. Calculating.
“No. It’s not that, is it?” said Karic. “It’s money. It’s always about money. I should have taken command at Epsilon Eridani. Then I should have flushed you out of an airlock.”
Karic leapt at Janzen, reaching up through the bars to try and snatch the XR32 from his holster.
Janzen leapt back from the pit, just as Andrai came into view.
Andrai looked at Janzen suspiciously. “I heard Karic shouting. What’s going on?”
“Andrai! Help with the cover!” shouted Karic.
Janzen’s face was devoid of expression. “Everything is going fine,” he called across to Andrai. “We just need a diversion before we work on freeing Karic.” Janzen aimed his XR32 at something back in the village and fired.
“Andrai!” called Karic. “Janzen is trying to kill me!” The sound of the concussion swallowed Karic’s words.
The singing faltered and died.
Karic desperately leapt for the bars, pulling himself up to get a view. Janzen had fired on the big dome-shaped tree in the middle of the clearing. The aliens who had gathered around the outside of the tree scattered. Most fled in panic, racing for the forest verge. Those creatures standing motionless on the long grass turned and ran with the others. Strangely, the aliens with purple crowns gathered into a tight group and sat to watch, eyes intent. Others, taller, and with red crowns, arranged themselves around the edges of the camp at equidistant points. There they turned, bodies poised, eyes flaring a deep red, as though standing guard while the others fled. The reds began a low, ominous drone, their voices weaving around each other in bass dissonance.
Janzen’s eyes flicked from the pit to Andrai. The technician was watching the destruction at the tree. Janzen raised his gun, this time pointing it at Andrai’s back.
***
Ibri examined the circuit board with focused intensity. In this tiny world he was truly at home, here within the paths of silver and gold, the capacitors, resistors and black silicon processors, all playing court to the elegant domes of the molecular modules, rising like silver queens from the board. Everything had its function, everything in its place. No mysteries — just logic. He moved the probes swiftly over the board, pausing only to read the diagnostics on the meter, itself a powerful, portable computer. In each of the minute pathways within the molecular modules, millions of switches and connections were assessed and corrected in the fraction of a second.
Satisfied, Ibri carefully slipped the circuit board back into its slot beneath the pod’s console and sat back. Every piece of hardware in the pod had been checked, repaired then rechecked. It had hardly been a challenge. Ibri smiled briefly. He was the best of the best and knew it. At least Janzen could
recognize his brilliance. He had taken Ibri aside before the lander’s descent.
“You are the only one with the true talent, Ibri. I’ve already doubled your bonus. Once we get the surface, I have a few plans I would like your help with, if you agree. Of course, elite technicians such are yourself deserve the rewards, you and I know that.” Janzen had flashed him a smile and Ibri’s heart had glowed at the praise. “Help me on the surface. Help me to break this strange hold Karic has on the others, and I will see your bonus tripled. There will be opportunities to split them up. That will give me time to bring Andrai and Mara to their senses.” Janzen had gripped Ibri’s arm in a gesture of solidarity. “You and I, Ibri. We are the true leaders on this team.”
Janzen was the commander. The true leader of the mission. He knew how to get things done, and knew enough to reward those with the talent. Andrai and Mara had always thought they were better than him, and their dismissive treatment had fuelled his contempt. And Karic … the engineer was a sentimental fool. A dangerous fool, with the ability to blind the others. He did not fool Ibri.
The Tau Ceti Diversion Page 15