“It must be understood that you will say nothing to them of having met us,” Black went on.
“What? Why?” Nikki demanded.
Black’s eyebrows drew together in a fierce scowl. “Because that is how I say it must be,” he said fiercely. Then he turned away as if that settled the matter.
The bastard! Nikki was ready to pursue it, to follow him and tell him exactly what she thought of his attitude. But Peter Hollingforth’s hand on her arm restrained her.
She spun, ready to vent her anger on anyone who was near. But then she saw his expression, earnest and concerned, embarrassed — not by her reaction, obviously, but by the actions of his superior. Her anger seeped away, as he led her back toward the tents.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I know his manner is abrasive. I know better than most people.” That was a telling comment, Nikki thought, incredibly communicative. What would it be like to work for a jerk like that? she wondered.
“He has no animosity toward you personally,” Hollingforth went on softly, “he would act the same way to anyone who… inconvenienced him in any way.”
“Why the hell am I such an inconvenience?”
Hollingforth sighed. “To Professor Black, anything that fails to mesh perfectly with his plans is an inconvenience. The presence of your colleagues in the stockade, the absence of…” — he hesitated — “… the object of our search …”
Nikki cut him off. “Just what are you looking for out here?” she asked.
The young man looked uncomfortable at that. “We, er, we would like to keep the nature of our expedition confidential.”
Nikki crossed her arms. “You’d better tell me,” she warned, “or by God I’m going to tell everyone back at the outpost everything I know about you.”
“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Hollingforth asked desperately.
I wouldn’t, Nikki told herself, but you don’t know that. She didn’t say a word, just stared levelly into his eyes.
Hollingforth appeared to deflate. “Alright,” he sighed. “I feel uncomfortable about keeping this secret anyway.” He lowered his voice another notch, glanced over his shoulder to make sure Black wasn’t listening in. “I told you last night that our expedition was commissioned by the board of directors of the Victorian Majestic Charter. That is not quite the case. The Charter board authorized us to perform a survey of the unnatural creatures in the region of Solok, a town northeast of New London in the Barisan Mountains. I am shamed to say we have, er, strayed from our official task” — a wry smile quirked his lips — “strayed by some two hundred miles, to be precise.”
“Just what are you doing?”
Hollingforth was silent for a moment. Then his hazel eyes fixed on her face, and she felt his intensity like a static shock. “If I tell you, will you keep our secret?” he asked.
She hesitated. It wasn’t as if this group could have committed some terrible crime, she mused. And beyond that possibility, what business was it of anyone else’s just what they did? Maybe the Victorian Majestic Charter board —whatever the hell that is — might care, but Nikki didn’t think they’d ever be asking her any questions. She nodded her agreement to Hollingforth’s conditions.
The young man looked relieved. He’s not good at keeping secrets, Nikki recognized, he’s too honest.
“Thank you,” he said. “We are following the trail of a particular creature,” he went on in a low voice, “a murderous beast whose path we crossed in the region of Solok. We have been following it ever since.”
“What kind of creature?” Nikki asked.
“A shapeshifter,” he explained, “a beast that can change its form. The natives refer to the creature as a ‘weretiger.’”
A weretiger? Like a werewolf? Nikki shook her head with disbelief. That’s nonsense …
But is it? She looked into the earnest face of Peter Hollingforth. He believes it, she reminded herself. Right down to his core, he believes it. And why not? She thought back to the previous day. She’d seen something — a tentacle — drag down a helicopter; she’d been pursued by things that looked like the living dead. I’m in Orrorsh, after all. Why can’t there be weretigers? The thought was like ice-water in her veins. “Why are you following it?” she asked Hollingforth. “Why this particular creature?”
He looked away for a moment. Then, with an obvious effort, his eyes met hers again. “When we left New London on this expedition,” he began, “there were eight of us. MacHeath had four privates in his section, not just three. And Professor Black had two assistants, not just me.
“His name was John Black,” Hollingforth went on bleakly, “my colleague and the professor’s second assistant. He was the professor’s son, and my close friend.
“We were in Sokol, talking to the natives, trying to get them to trust us enough to tell us what they knew.” He smiled grimly. “Well, I was talking to the natives, I and John. The professor wouldn’t believe they knew anything worth knowing. We met a local doctor, a Dr. Ling — an elderly Chinese. He spoke better English than anyone else we met, and he was an educated man too, so we spent most of our time talking with him.”
Hollingforth snorted in disgust. “We talked with Ling, we believed what he told us. And he sent us on a merry chase around the Sokol area, never finding what we were looking for. We should have suspected he was lying to us then, but we didn’t.
“And then one day Dr. Ling sent a message to John, claiming that he had discovered something of great importance. The professor and I, along with Sergeant MacHeath, were busy elsewhere. If I’d been there, perhaps I would have stopped him. John, accompanied by Private Taylor, went to meet with Ling … and they never returned.
“We searched everywhere, of course,” Hollingforth said slowly. “Everywhere except for where we should have searched. Since we knew nothing about the message at that time, it took us hours to consider that perhaps Ling was involved. And that was much too late.”
Hollingforth’s eyes were open, but Nikki knew he wasn’t seeing her or the sun-drenched jungle clearing. He was seeing something horrible, some memory he’d probably never be able to escape. “We went to Dr. Ling’s office,” the young man continued quietly. “The good doctor” — the words dripped with painful irony — “was gone, of course. John and Private Taylor, thought — they were still there.” He closed his eyes now, and his face looked drawn and pale in the morning sunlight. “Ling’s clinic had two operating tables. Both were occupied: John was bound to one, Private Taylor to the other.”
Nikki closed her eyes, too, just for a moment — not much more than a long blink. She thought she knew what was coming, but she held her tongue.
“They had both been alive when … when the procedures had begun.” Hollingforth’s voice was flat, emotionless — empty and cold, like a winter wind. “One can only hope that they didn’t remain that way for long.” He took a deep, calming breath before he went on. “Dr. Ling had used his surgical implements. He had …” He paused again for another deep breath. “He took their eyes first. Then he’d begun to work on their … on the rest of them. It was like a surgical dissection in a medical school, apart from all the blood, of course. We tried to find Dr. Ling, but he was gone.”
Nikki shivered. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. She clenched them into fists to stop the quivering. “Dr. Ling was the shapeshifter?” she asked. “The weretiger? How did you know?”
“We were staying in a small rooming house on the outskirts of Solok,” Hollingforth answered elliptically. “Professor Black had a room on the first floor, John and I shared another. The soldiers were housed on the ground floor. That night, Dr. Ling paid us a call. I suppose he thought we would be asleep. He didn’t expect the soldiers to be awake, keeping watches
through the night.
“I was asleep, dreaming.” N ikki saw the young man shudder. She could guess what his dreams were like. “The sound of rifle fire from below woke us. The professor and I ran downstairs.
“We saw Dr. Ling running from the front door. MacHeath and his men were firing after him. I saw several of their bullets strike him, but he seemed simply to shrug off wounds that would have felled any normal man. As he ran for the jungle, I saw him change. His body warped, twisted, until he wasn’t a man any longer. He bent forward until he was running on all-fours, faster than any man could run.” Hollingforth sighed. “There was no doubt as to his true nature. He was a weretiger.”
There was silence between them for a moment while Nikki tried to absorb what she’d just heard. She wanted to deny what Hollingforth had said, wanted desperately to discard it all as lies, as some terrible mistake. But, looking into the young man’s hazel eyes, she knew she couldn’t do that. He knows what he saw, she had to admit, and he’s telling me the truth. “So you followed its trail?” she asked gently.
Hollingforth nodded. “It was Professor Black who suggested it,” he elaborated, “but I wanted to do the same thing myself. MacHeath took no persuading, nor his men. We all wanted to put paid to the fiend who had killed our friends and colleagues.
“Our commission from the Charter board gave us considerable freedom of action,” he went on, “so there were no constraints on our movements.” He hesitated. “Of course, if the board found out exactly what we intended, they would revoke our commission and call us back to New London at once. While Professor Black and I could decide to ignore their summons, MacHeath and the other soldiers would have no choice but to obey their orders.”
“Why would the board do that?” Nikki asked.
“You don’t know about the board, do you?” Nikki shook her head. “The purpose of the Victorian Majestic Charter, and the company that holds it, is simple,” Hollingforth explained. “They intend to exploit financially the island of Majestic, and as much of the rest of Orrorsh as possible. The board of directors of the company are men of high birth, but they have the instincts of merchants, of shopkeepers.” From the tone of his voice, Nikki could tell that Hollingforth considered this a dire insult. “They will commission projects that have the potential of realizing a profit, and only such projects. Honestly, I don’t know what they hope to gain from our original survey, apart from possibly an estimate of the resources they would need to expand their operations. There is no way that they would countenance our pursuit; they would see it as nothing more than personal vengeance … which, I suppose it is.” He shook his head. “No, the board would call us all back to New London as soon as they knew our purpose.”
Nikki nodded, more to herself than to Hollingforth. She understood the mindset of the board of directors; they -and the executives of any Japanese megacorporation would quickly find they had much common ground. “Is that why Professor Black doesn’t want me to tell my colleagues about you?” she asked. “He thinks they’ll tell the board?”
Hollingforth shrugged. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “Perhaps he considers that a possibility. More likely, though, he simply doesn’t trust them not to interfere.” He chuckled drily. “As you may have gathered, the professor doesn’t like or trust anyone who isn’t a Victorian … and not even all of those.” He hesitated, then went on diffidently, “I must admit I, too, would like to avoid any, er, outside complications. If you could see your way clear …” He trailed off.
Nikki sighed. “I already told him I wouldn’t talk about you to anyone,” she told him.
“And you are a lady of your word,” Hollingforth finished for her. He bowed. “Thank you, Miss Carlson. We are all very grateful.”
She looked him over again. Earnest, eager… Almost like an overage boy scout in a tie, she thought with some amusement. His honesty, his straightforwardness, were refreshing. She found herself liking him. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” she asked.
He started to shake his head, then paused. “Your colleagues send expeditions into the jungle, isn’t that so?” he queried.
She remembered the group of scientists she’d seen returning to the compound — was that only thirty-six hours ago? she asked herself. “Sometimes,” she told him.
“And you talk to them, I assume,” Hollingforth said with growing enthusiasm. “Would it be possible, could you see your way clear to …”
It was Nikki’s turn to cut him off. “If I hear anything about a weretiger,” she agreed, “I’ll get word to you. But how?”
Hollingforth thought that through, then a smile spread over his face. “I’ll have MacHeath assign one of his men to watch the stockade during the day,” he suggested. “If you have some information for us, and you can leave the compound, come to the edge of the jungle. The soldier will meet you there, take the information, and see you come to no harm. Would you do that for us?”
Nikki considered. There are zombies out there, she remembered, zombies and worse. And they do come out during the day.
She looked deeply into Hollingforth’s eyes. She could see his pain, his remembered horror over his lost friend … and his hope. How could she refuse? Particularly when I’ll have a soldier watching over me … “I’ll do it,” she said quietly.
Hollingforth’s smile was all the thanks she needed. “We are all grateful to you, Miss Carlson,” he said formally. “If there is anything that I can do in return …”
She returned his smile. “Just see me back to the compound in one piece,” she suggested.
Hollingforth beckoned to MacHeath, and the sergeant came over. “Are you ready to leave, Miss Carlson?” the soldier asked. “Professor Black said you’d be returning to your people.”
She nodded. “Do you have my gun?”
MacHeath produced it from a pocket of his scarlet jacket and handed it to her. It came as a surprise to realize the pistol felt good in her hand — like a reminder of a world I left behind, she thought. Just looking at the precisely-machined weapon reminded her of all the other high technology she’d come to take for granted.
“I hope you don’t mind, Miss Carlson,” MacHeath said, “but I examined your weapon. It seems to have malfunctioned in some way. I couldn’t get it to fire.”
“Oh?” Nikki examined the pistol. To her untrained eye it looked undamaged. Maybe something happened to it when I fell, she wondered. She carefully pointed it away from the others, made sure the safety catch was on, and squeezed the trigger gently. The sighting laser flicked on, casting its ruby dot on the ground.
Hollingforth and MacHeath both gasped aloud. She turned to them, puzzled. “What’s the matter?”
“The light,” MacHeath said. “It never did that before. What is it?”
Quickly she explained about laser sights — what little she knew, at least.
The two men listened in unabashed fascination. “Amazing,” MacHeath said in a hushed voice. “Why, anyone could use a weapon like this. Just think of the training time saved …”
A puzzling thought struck Nikki. “The laser didn’t work when you tried it?” she asked.
The sergeant shook his head. “Neither did the mechanism,” he added. “A sweet piece of engineering, to be sure, much more advanced than our Standard Cross revolvers. It took me some time to figure out how it must work.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps I didn’t figure it out.”
Nikki frowned. Quickly she flicked the safety off like Dei had taught her, pulled back the slide. The mechanism felt smooth as silk. She snapped the safety back on. “It seems to work fine now.”
MacHeath looked completely perplexed now. “As God is my witness,” he said, “that’s exactly what I tried to do. But the thing simply would not work for me. Ah, well,” he sighed, “it’s not my weapon to play around with, and you may well be needing it.” He squared his shoulders and smiled down at Nikki. “Would you be ready to move out, Miss Carlson? We have a quarter-
hour march to yon compound.”
*
So the prodigal child returns home, Nikki mused the next day. But where was the fatted calf?
It had been almost nine in the morning when MacHeath and the other soldiers had “delivered” her to t
he fringe of the jungle near the stockade gate. They’d parted with warm handshakes, and then Nikki had emerged from the jungle and walked toward the gate. The security guards had seen her at once, opened the gate for her and hustled her inside.
If she’d been expecting an exuberant welcome, she was sadly disappointed. The guards had said next to nothing to her, had seemed more angry than anything else at her reappearance — or maybe at my original disappearance, she’d thought. Dei had been among them, and he’d given her a brief smile of welcome, but that was it. The guards had formed up into a tight knot of muscle and armor, and marched her to the central administration building.
There she’d been questioned — interrogated, almost — by Hongo, the outpost’s security chief. And — surprisingly — by Eichiro himself. They’d asked her repeatedly about the creatures that had chased her, and she’d had to repeat what she remembered at least half a dozen times. Remembering her agreement with Hollingforth and Black, she’d said nothing about meeting the explorers and the soldiers. She’d outrun the zombies or whatever they were, she’d said over and over again, and had spent the night in a clearing, then had made her way back to the outpost as soon as the sun had risen.
The question that everybody had kept coming back to had been, how had she managed to escape from the zombies? The security personnel had looked at her pistol, found she hadn’t fired a shot. How, they wanted to know, had she evaded the creatures when she hadn’t even known enough to use her weapon? It’s almost like they’ re angry at me for surviving, she’d thought at the time. She couldn’t help but compare their truculent behavior with the formal politeness and concern of Peter Hollingforth.
At last everyone had been satisfied — or at least had run out of questions to ask, and they’d sent her back to her quarters to recover from her “ordeal.”
And now, late the next afternoon, she was in her lab. The other members of her workgroup were ignoring her again, just like they’d done when it had been first announced that Group Five would be going to Sumatra. They answered any questions she asked, did what she told them, but their manner was uniformly sullen. Almost as if I’ve shamed them again, she thought angrily, shamed them by coming back in one piece.
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