The Long Way Home

by Darrell Bain

  "Thanks, ‘Nita. I try."

  "I've heard. I wouldn't be surprised if you outrank me before it's over with. Gotta run. Next Wednesday?"

  "Yes. What did you mean by...” But she was already hurrying away.

  * * * *

  "I hope we find something better this time,” Jeremy said to Chambers as they were approaching transit again.

  "Don't say that!” Chambers told him sharply.

  "Why not, ma'am?” he asked with a puzzled expression.

  Her frown disappeared. “Oh, no reason, really. Just control room superstition. Never wish for what you'll find in a new system. It's supposed to be bad luck."

  "I'm sorry."

  "You didn't know. Now pay attention; we're getting close."

  For a change, Whistler was not managing the transition himself. Although Jeremy hadn't heard any of the contretemps, he suspected that it had taken something like a direct order to move the official astrogator out of the control room for a transit. Chambers didn't look particularly happy, and Commander Brackett sported an unusual frown.

  "Watch closely, you two,” Chambers said. “Tomorrow you're going to have to do this by yourself, start to finish, on the simulator."

  He watched and learned. All too soon the queasy, nauseating feeling swept through his body as they exited hyperspace into another system.

  "Whew! I'm glad that's over with,” Chambers said a moment later. “Turning inside out isn't good for these old bones."

  "Why, you're not old!” Jeremy exclaimed before he realized how it might sound to the second highest ranking person in the boat. Fortunately, Chambers didn't seem to take it amiss.

  "Thank you, Costa. Everlife does wonders or us old folks, doesn't it?"

  "Um, yes, ma'am. I mean, no, ma'am,” he corrected himself and then decided that didn't sound right either. “What I meant was..."

  She held up both hands with a laugh. “Never mind. Let's start looking for a place to get some decent food."

  Jeremy knew what she meant. In a worst case scenario such as had occurred recently, starship recyclers were capable of converting carbonaceous asteroids or some comet masses into food, but Longboats couldn't assemble foodstuffs from atoms. Their converters needed organic mass grown from plants, animals or their analogs, although they could use the portion of carbonaceous material that was in heavy molecular form. Some of it. In fact, judging by the taste of the food since landing on the ice ball, he suspected that some had been scavenged from the collected ice when it was melted and run through the filters. Organics from the asteroid only made it worse.

  He and Jana used the instruments while Chambers observed and supervised. Jeremy was trying to determine what a faint sighting meant when Trammell spoke up.

  "I see our friendly BEMS are still shadowing us."

  Then he saw it, too. As always, it was right at the edge of the screen but appeared a little brighter than usual. He said so.

  "Correct, Costa,” Trammell said. “They're looking more confident that we can't detect them at such ranges. I wonder just how close they'll come."

  "Just don't give them reason to get any nearer,” Commander Brackett said. “We'll deal with them eventually, but it's important in the meantime to ignore their presence."

  Jeremy wondered just how in hell the Commander intended to deal with an alien Starship that had blasted Sam Johnston to pieces, but he was afraid to ask.

  Trammell wasn't. “You have a plan, Skipper?"

  "Mmm, yes. I believe we can handle them under the right circumstances. We just have to wait for a good system to do it in. Seeing anything over there?"

  Giving a start, Jeremy realized he was being spoken to. “No, sir. Or rather, I have something, but it's a bit far yet to ... oh, I think it has an atmosphere. I'm getting some readings. And there's another body!"

  Eventually, several planets were spotted. The one Jeremy had been plotting from the first turned out to be the one they wanted. It had an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere indicative of life, and spectroscopic analysis proved that supposition correct within a few more minutes.

  "Set up the coordinates and take us into orbit, Lisa. I'll be in my cabin as soon as you have an analysis for me."

  "Yes, sir."

  Jeremy liked being in the control room where things were happening, especially when Lieutenant Whistler wasn't present. The man was beginning to cast a pall over everyone by his presence, but it certainly wasn't Jeremy's responsibility to say anything. Brackett must know. Probably that's why he's kept Whistler from the control room this transit, Jeremy thought. Or maybe it was so Jana and I could get some experience without his surliness inhibiting us. Would the commander do that? He didn't know, but he was grateful nevertheless. The XO was friendlier when Whistler was absent, too. He had thought Chambers was attractive, but Lisa Trammell was just short of beautiful. Not that it meant anything to him, other than she was good to look at, of course.

  * * * *

  "Be damned,” Brackett said. “How recent, or can you tell?” He sat with crossed legs, his chair pushed out from behind his desk so that he could talk more intimately with his executive officer.

  "No, sir, not definitely, but it was fairly recently and done deliberately. Kinetic strikes on all major population centers. There's just enough vegetation showing in the craters to say the strikes occurred some years ago, but until we land, we won't be able to determine when it happened. It could be anywhere from a decade to a century or more, depending on how prolific the vegetation is."

  "Do you think we should land, XO?"

  "I'd like to take a few days in orbit before making any recommendations, sir. While it was a high tech civilization, we've seen no satellites nor any sign of space activities. It looks as if ... as if another species dropped by, killed all the cities and towns with kinetic bombardments, and went on their way. It's impossible to say yet whether they landed colonists to supplant or enslave the original residents. So far, we've only seen members of the one species picking through a few ruins."

  "I've seen the blowups. Pretty vague, but definitely not our Monkeys. We'd recognize them, even from a hundred miles up."

  "Damn right we would. I still see those vicious little monsters in my sleep."

  Brackett nodded vaguely, his thoughts elsewhere. Land or not land? Was he justified in risking it? Would the natives be as hostile as the Monkeyclaws? What kind of weapons did they have? Or did they have weapons? And that damned ship that kept following them. What would its reaction be if they landed? He knew Lisa was waiting on him to say something. He nodded, to himself as much as to her.

  "All right, XO, two days of orbits, then pick us a spot away from any concentration of natives. This isn't the time to make contact. We can leave that for the diplomats after we get home. We'll stock up, and then, if the natives aren't as xenophobic as the ‘claws, we'll take a look at one of the cities. Try to pick one where there isn't any activity."

  "Are we justified in doing that, sir?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.

  "I believe we are, XO, and here's why. I haven't told anyone of these plans yet, but you need to know, in case something happens to me. If possible, we're going to look through one of those cities and see what kind of weapons we can find. Whether we do or not, though, we're going to have to fight the Monkeyclaws eventually, and here's how we'll do it."

  He began outlining his plan while Lieutenant Commander Lisa Trammell listened with growing apprehension—and admiration—for the audacity of the surprise he planned for the Monkeyclaw ship. It might work, but more likely it would cause them to be blown into very small bits.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jeremy stood in the morning formation on one side of the dayroom, with the ten other explorers of the reduced Coyote Squad. He already knew that they had been gathered for briefing preparatory to landing, but he hadn't said a word to anyone else. He was still keeping to his vow to Brackett of not repeating control room conversations. He smiled
to himself as Chief Dugan appeared from the direction of officer country.

  "Listen up,” Dugan said as she stopped in front of them. She looked at their eager faces, all anticipating a landing brief, since they'd been orbiting the planet for two days. The crew had voted to name it Bearkiller. “We land tomorrow. I'm sure you've all heard by now that the planet is inhabited and that the natives are not, repeat not, Monkeyclaws. What that means is that we have to be on our toes even more than usual. Our orders are to avoid contact with the natives, but we have no idea whether or not they have a central government, nor how we'll be received if we do run into any of them. After seeing how their planet has been ravaged, chances are that the most likely scenario is communication with local tribes, but for now, we don't even want that. Their civilization was smashed some years ago, either by the Monkeys or another alien race we haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet.

  "Now, what this means is that you will not fire at a native Bearkiller unless it is a dire, life-threatening emergency. Those people have already seen enough death. If we meet any, we want them to think of us as friends. Understood?"

  There were murmurs of assent.

  "What do they look like, Chief?” Chiquita Luna asked.

  "Like apes in drag. You'll see some very poor quality recordings in a few minutes. Any other questions? All right, then, you know the Coyotes are first out for this landing. Let's get the brief finished, so you can get your gear in order and get some rest before deorbit maneuvers."

  Jeremy listened closely to the briefing. Since he hadn't been excused to report to the control room, he hoped it meant that he would get to set foot on the planet. Wouldn't it be great to see what another civilization looked like, even if it was in ruins?"

  * * * *

  Jeremy felt the thumps as Hurricane Jack touched the ground on its landing jacks. The thrust died. The boat trembled while it settled a few more inches, and the jacks compensated to keep it level. They were down on another planet. Six fully armed Coyotes would go out first in environmental suits. The air had tested safe but held some minute traces of odd gases. They probably wouldn't be harmful but might give the air a distasteful tang. One of the suited Coyotes would check it first, just to be sure.

  The five cycled through the airlocks, carrying two mobile cams, which they intended to attach to the hull of the boat. A few minutes later, the cams gave two different panoramic views that were fed back into screens in the boat. Jeremy remained sitting in the acceleration seat he'd been allotted this time. Losses and the promotion had earned him the last available one. He could see through an open hatchway to a big screen in the bay but had a real view right beside him. His companion hadn't wanted the window seat during descent.

  He looked outside. All three explorers on this side were in his view, rifles at port arms and heads moving restlessly, scanning back and forth even though the scenery was pristine. Another was already checking the air. They had landed only a few kilometers from the suburbs of a ruined city, on the edge of what looked to be an artificial lake. By pressing his face to the view port he could see from the rise they occupied down to alien structures in the distance.

  The buildings were constructed without windows. The tops of the taller ones were broken off, as if the foundations had been so securely fixed that the structures had snapped instead of falling. On the way down, the longboat had passed near the ruined city, and he had seen domed buildings as well. Those at the edge of the crater were cracked, but others farther away still looked to be intact among broken spires.

  The vegetation he could make out was not distinctive, merely being short, tree-like growths with single straight trunks and short branching limbs evenly spaced every few meters. Their tops were single, pointed brown spears with bulges from which, he presumed, more branches would bud. Beneath the nearest of the “trees” he could see something like bushes with coiling runners beneath, which occasionally rose in spirals. The taller growth ended abruptly almost a hundred meters from the lake, as if it has once been cleared. It was replaced with knee-high to ankle-high shrubby plants with narrow stalks that grew in spirals with coils at their tops. Similar spirals grew straight from the Earth as if mimicking the other plants. He could see nothing moving. The sky had a faint orange tint.

  Three hours later, Jeremy was outside with his equipment, doing double duty as backup guard while analyzing the local flora. It was being brought to him. As an astrogator in training, he had been ordered to stick close to the boat. He wasn't happy with the situation. Commander Brackett was apparently very serious about making certain he had enough astrogators to get them back to civilization.

  As he worked, one of the explorers—Danny Pronghorn, he thought—detached his hood, sniffed cautiously, and took a deep breath of air. Having breathed deeply several more times, he shrugged his shoulders. He glanced back briefly toward the recorders, gave a grin and a thumbs up and turned back to watching his part of the landscape. An hour later, Jeremy doffed his E-suit, as did the others.

  "The top part of the short little bushes are good for organics, Chief,” he said to Dugan as he folded the suit and stuffed it into his kit.

  "Good. I'll get the scavengers on it."

  "I haven't looked at the little spiral-shaped things growing directly from the ground yet,” he said. “I don't know about them."

  "Some of it'll be tangled with the bushes. You'll get a chance later."

  "But, Chief, I'm just getting started. What if it's..."

  She was already sending teams out to begin harvesting. He shrugged and went back to work. He'd heard the Commander say that he wanted to explore some of the ruins before moving on, so he supposed they were in a hurry. The hoses were already gulping prodigious amounts of water from the lake.

  The first of the spiral growths he examined under magnification appeared to be more like fauna than flora. Strange, he thought. He dialed up the magnification. The odd looking cells were interconnected like ... neurons? Nerve tissue! Whatever they were, they might grow like plants, but they weren't. But he knew that wasn't a sufficient criterion. It could be just an uncanny resemblance, as so many discoveries on new worlds proved to be. He began a chemical analysis, and a few minutes later he had a definite answer. Those spirals were part of an animal. Had to be! He looked around for Chief Dugan and as soon as he caught her eye he motioned to her. She came bounding over in the light gravity, only .87 that of Earth.

  "What is it, Costa?"

  "Someone needs to dig beneath a couple of those spiral growths and see what's there, instead of just slicing them off with the bushes."

  "Why?"

  "Because they aren't plants. They are almost all nerve tissue of some sort. I think the rest of whatever it is lives beneath the ground."

  "Shit! What I get for hurrying. And we've got people out there!” She tapped her forearm and at the same time yelled to get the first scavenging detail back toward the boat. She ran to meet them.

  From where he had set up his instruments Jeremy could see her speak briefly to the scavengers. All but one retreated toward the boat where none of the coils grew. Those nearby then turned back to wait and stand guard against whatever was upsetting Chief Dugan. He also saw the dispersed guards moving back out of the terrain. Dugan held up her hand as soon as they were all free of the area where the coils grew—or waited. Then she pointed to the nearest spring-like growth and motioned to the explorer to use his moly knife to dig into the ground beneath it.

  An explosion of dirt and vegetation met the probing blade. The explorer was knocked off his feet. Dugan, a few steps further away, kept her balance. Her rifle pointed at where something like a blob of brown protoplasm oozed rapidly from the Earth. A pseudopod shot from it and wrapped around one of her legs. She fired into the main blob with no apparent effect. As the pseudopod began dragging her back toward its central mass she drew her laser pistol. He saw Mister Cantrell and several others running to aid her.

  "Stay back!” she yelled to the advancing explorers. She v
ery carefully burned through the pseudopod, freeing herself, but leaving a thick circle of organic material around her leg. She retreated rapidly backward. The amoeboid creature oozed back into the hole from which it had erupted.

  "Watch it, explorers! Coils are danger!” Cantrell yelled, loudly enough for everyone present to hear.

  Dugan tapped on her forearm. He was near enough to hear her make a brief report to go with data the recorders attached to the longboat had gathered. After that, she approached Jeremy.

  "Any idea how to get this goo off my leg? It's still tight enough that I can't just pull my pants down.” She poked at it with the tip of her pistol. The alien life pulsed but remained where it was. She had to yank to get the barrel of her sidearm loose.

  "Is it hurting?"

  "No, not yet, but it's awful goddamned tight. It didn't wrap me up quickly enough to set off hardening nannites in the cammies."

  "Let me try something.” He fumbled with a tray of instruments and found what he wanted. He carefully inserted a probe into the mass and applied suction to remove a sample of it. He had to yank the probe loose. He deposited his sample into a chemical analyzer while Casey waited impatiently. He watched the readouts. In a moment he looked up.

  "The part that's on you doesn't have the same chemical makeup as the spirals. It's sticky as hell, too. I think what's on your leg is designed to be discarded if the prey proves too powerful for it. Maybe it can reproduce from that part. I'd bet if you were really careful, you could slide the blade of your moly knife beneath it and just slice in under the cammie material and cut the thing in two, then peel the fabric back with the flat of your blade. I'll do it from behind you, the same way. You'll lose part of the material of your pants, but I doubt if you'll get it away from you any other way. I think it's trying to digest your cammies and form a new organism."

  "Let's do it, then."