The Mystery of Ireta Omnibus

by neetha Napew

  Kai had requested a remote sensor to locate the ore concentrations but at that point the storm in the next system had been sighted and he found his request very low on the priority list. He was told that the original probe tapes would give him ample information to locate metal and mineral, and to get the job done in situ. Right now ARCT-10 had an unparalleled opportunity to observe free matter in action.

  Kai took the official brush-off in good part. What he did object to was having the youngsters dumped on his hands at the last minute. To his complaint that this was a working expedition, not a training exercise, he was told that the ship-born must have sufficient planetary experiences early in their lives to overcome the danger of conditional agoraphobia. The hazard was not lightly to be dismissed by the ship-born: useless to explain to the planet-bred. But Kai railed against the expediency that made his team the one to expand the horizons of three members who were only half into their second decades. This planet was exceedingly active, volcanically and tectonically, and dangerous for ship-bred juveniles. The two girls, Cleidi and Terilla, were biddable and no trouble until Bonnard, the son of the Third Officer of the EV, instigated all manner of hazard-strewn games.

  The very first day, while Kai and his team were dropping cores around the landing site to be sure they had landed on the more stable continental shield, Bonnard had gone “exploring” and lacerated a protective suit because he hadn’t remembered to activate the force-field. He had stumbled into the sword plant, as pretty as the harmless decorative plants in the EV’s conservatory but able to slice flesh and suit to ribbons with the most negligible of contacts. There had been other incidents during the nine days the party had been landed. While the other team members seemed to make light of the boy’s escapades and were amused by his adoration of Kai, the team-leader sincerely hoped the little orphaned beast would divert Bonnard.

  Kai took a long sip of the pepper, its tart freshness soothing his nerves as well as his palate. He glanced down at his recorder, switched on the comunit, arranged the recording equipment to the speed necessary to slow the Ryxi speech pattern into understandable tones for later review. He could generally keep up with their rippingly fast voices but a tape helped to resolve any questions.

  Kai had been designated the liaison officer between the two groups. He had the patience and tact required for dealing with the slow Thek, and the ear and wit to keep up with the quick aerial Ryxi who could never have communicated with the Thek, and with whom the Thek preferred not to bother.

  Right on time the Ryxi leader, Vrl, made the contact, trilling out the courtesies. Kai relayed the information that only the the first reports from each of the teams had been picked up by the EV, and gave his assumption that the spatial storm viewed before the exploratory groups had left the ship must be causing sufficient interference to prevent a pick-up of other reports.

  Vrl, politely slowing his speech to a rate which must have been frustrating to him, said that he wasn’t worried; that was for the Slows to fret about. Vrl’s first report was the important one for his people: it confirmed the initial probe analysis that this planet contained no indigenous intelligent life form and could adequately support his race. Vrl was forwarding by interplanetary drone a full report for Kai’s interest. Vrl ended by saying that all were in good health and full feather. Then he asked what winged life had been observed on Ireta.

  Kai told him, speaking as fast as he could get the words past his teeth, that they had observed several aerial life forms from a distance and would investigate further when possible. He refrained from naming one form as the scavengers they were but promised, at Vrl’s liquidly trilled request, to forward a full tape when completed. The Ryxi as a species had one gross sin: they hated to think that another aerial life form might one day challenge their unique position in FSP. This prejudice was one reason why Ryxi were not often included in EV complements. The other valid reason was that Ryxi fretted in enclosed spaces to the point of suicide. Very few bothered to qualify for Exploratory Services since they were so psychologically ill-suited to the life. Necessity had forced them into this mission and most of the members had spent the journey time in cryonic suspension. Vrl had been awakened two ship weeks before touchdown to be apprised of the necessary routine of report and contact with the other two sections. While Vrl, like all his ilk, was an interesting creature, vital, flamboyant with his plumage and personality, Kai and Varian were relieved to have the Theks along as balance.

  “Did Vrl remember to be there?” asked Varian, entering the control cabin.

  “Yes, and all’s well with him, though he’s mighty curious about winged life here.”

  “They always are, those jealous feathers!” Varian made a face. “I remember a deputation from Ryxi at University on Chelida. They wanted to vivisect those winged tree Rylidae from Eridani 5.”

  Kai suppressed a sympathetic shudder. He wasn’t surprised. The Ryxi were known to be bloody-minded. Look at their courtship dance — males armed with leg spurs and the victor usually killing his opponent. You couldn’t quite excuse that on the grounds of survival of the fittest. You didn’t have to kill to improve the genotype.

  “Is there another pepper going? I’ve been trying to keep up with my team mates.” She slid into the chair.

  Kai snorted at that folly and handed her a container of stimulant, chuckling.

  “I know we don’t have to keep up with the heavy-worlders Varian said with a groan, “and I know that they know that we can’t, but I can’t help trying.”

  “It’s frustrating. I know.”

  “So do I. Oh, Trizein says the little creature is indeed mammal and will need a lactoprotein, heavy in calcium, glucose, salt and a good dollop of phosphates.”

  “Can Divisti and Lunzie whomp something up?”

  “Have done. Bonnard is feeding . . . or I should say, attempting to feed Dandy.”

  “It’s named already?”

  “Why not? It certainly isn’t programmed to answer a meal call — yet.”

  “Intelligent?”

  “Of a restricted sort. It’s already programmed to a certain number of instinctive responses, being born fairly mature.”

  “Is that herbivore of yours mammalian?”

  “Nooooo . . .”

  “What’s the yes in that no for?”

  “Granted that viviparous and oviparous types often co-exist on a planet . . . and that you’d get some very odd gene specilization to cope with environment here, but I cannot rationalize that aquatic life cell formation with Dandy or with that big herbivore.

  “And speaking of that beast, Trizein says its cell structure is remarkably familiar; he’s going to do an in-depth comparison. In the meantime, I’ve his okay to use a CHCL3 gas on it so we can dress those wounds before they turn septic. Can we rig a force-screen arc over that corral we erected so the wound can be kept free of blood-sucking organisms while it heals?” When Kai nodded, she continued. “And would you also ask your core teams to keep an eye out for any scavengers circling? Whatever wounded the herbivore probably attacks other animals. One, I’d like to know what kind of predator is that savage to its prey; and two, There’s always a chance that we can find amenable specimens by saving their lives. They’re so much easier to capture when they’re too weak to struggle or run.”

  “Aren’t we all, I’ll give the word to my teams. Only don’t make this compound a veterinary hospital, will you, Varian, We don’t have the space.”

  “I know, I know. Those that are large enough to fend for themselves go into the corral anyhow.”

  They rose, both revived by the peppers. But their brief respite in the conditioned air of the shuttle made that first step outside a gasper.

  “Man is an adaptable creature,” Kai told himself under his breath, “flexible, comprehending his universe, a high survival type. But did we have to get a planet that reeks?”

  “Can’t win ‘em all, Kai,” said Varian with a laugh. “And I find this place fascinating.” She left him standing i
n the open lock.

  The rain had stopped, Kai noticed, at least for the moment. The sun peered through the cloud cover, getting ready to steam bake them for a while. With the cessation of rain, Ireta’s insect battalions once more flung themselves against the force-screen that arched above the compound. Blue sparks erupted as the smaller creatures were incinerated, glowing blue where larger organisms were stunned by the charge.

  He gazed out over the compound, experiencing a certain sense of accomplishment. Behind him, and above the compound itself, was the tough ceramic-hulled shuttlecraft, twenty-one metres long, with its nose cone blackened by the friction heat of entering Ireta’s atmosphere. Its stubby glide wings were retracted now, leaving it slightly ovoid in shape, the central portion being larger than either end. From its top blossomed the communications spire and the homing device that would guide in its children-sleds. Unlike early models of the compound-ship to planet shuttle, most of the vessel was cargo and passenger space since the incredibly efficient, Thek-designed power packs which utilized an established isotope were compact and no longer took up the bulk of the shuttle’s interior. An additional benefit of the Thek power pack was that lighter weight ships, which had the specially developed ceramic hulls, could deliver the same payload as the structurally reinforced titanium hulled vessels, needed for the antiquated fission and fusion drives.

  The shuttle rested on a shelf of granite which, spreading out and down, formed a shallow amphitheatre, roughly four hundred metres in diameter. Varian had pointed out that the shuttle’s first touch-down had been smack in the middle of some animal route, to judge by the well trampled dirt. Kai had not needed any urging to change site. Open vistas might give you a chance to assess visitors but it was a bit much for his ship-trained eyes.

  Force-screen posts surrounded the present encampment in which temporary living, sleeping and working domes had been erected. Water, tapped from an underground source, had to be softened and filtered. Even so, those like Varian, who were less used to recycled water which always tasted faintly of chemicals, grumbled about its mineral flavour.

  Divisti and Trizein had tested several forms of Iretan vegetation and succulents, finding them safe for human consumption. Divisti and Lunzie had collaborated and produced a pulp from the greenery that might be nutritionally correct but had such a nauseating taste and curious consistency that only the heavy-worlders would eat it. They were known to eat anything. Even, it was rumoured, animal flesh.

  Nonetheless, for the short time they’d been on Ireta, Kai was pleased with their accomplishments. The camp was securely situated in a protected position, on a stable shield land mass composed of basement rock that tested out 3000 MY. There was an ample water supply and an indigenous resource of synthesizable food to hand.

  A faint uneasiness nagged at him suddenly. He wished that the EV had stripped more reports from the satellite beamer. It was probably nothing more than interference from that spatial storm. The EV, having established that all three expeditions were functioning, might have no reason to strip the beamer for a while. It would be back this way in a hundred days or so. This was a routine expedition. So was the EV’s interest in the storm. Unless, of course, the EV had run into the Others.

  Peppers made you hyper-imaginative as well as energetic, Kai told himself firmly as he started down the incline to the floor of the compound. The “Others” were a myth, made up to frighten bad children, or childlike adults. While occasionally EEC units found dead planets and passed likely systems interdicted on the charts for no ostensible reason though their planets would certainly have been suitable to one or another member of the Federation . . .

  Kai became angry with himself and, forcing down such reflections, tramped through the alien dust to Gaber’s dome.

  The cartographer had returned to his patient translating of taped recordings to the master chart, over which the probe photos were superimposed. As Kai’s teams brought more detailed readings, Gaber updated the appropriate grid and removed the photo. At the moment, the tri-d globe looked scabrous. In the other half of dome was the seismic screen which Portegin was setting up. Glancing quickly past it, Kai thought Portegein was loosing his knack: the screen was on and registering far too many core points, some barely visible.

  “I’m days behind myself. I told you that, Kai,” said Gaber, his aggrieved tone somewhat counterbalanced by a rueful smile. He straightened, twisting his neck to relieve taut muscles. “And I’m glad you’ve come because I cannot work with Portegin’s screen. He says it’s finished but you can see it’s not functioning correctly.”

  Gaber swung his gimballed chair about and pointed his inking pen at the core monitor screen.

  Kai gave a closer look and then began to fiddle with the manual adjustments.

  “You see what I mean? Echoes! And then faint responses where I know perfectly well your teams have not had a chance to lay cores. Here in the south and the southeast . . .” Gaber was taping the screen with his pen. “Unless, of course, your teams are duplicating efforts . . . but the readings would be clearer. So I have to assume that the machine itself is malfunctioning.”

  Kai barely attended to Gaber’s complaints. In his belly a coldness formed, a coldness that had to do with thinking about the Others. But, if it had been the Others who laid the faintly responding cores, then this planet would have been interdicted. One thing was positive in Kai’s mind: his teams had not set those other lights, nor duplicated work.

  “That is interesting, Gaber,” he replied with a show of an indifference he was far from feeling. “Obviously from an older survey. This planet’s been in the EEC library for a long time, you know. And cores are virtually indestructible. See here, in the north, where the fainter cores leave off? That’s where the plate action had deformed the land mass into those new fold mountains.”

  “Why didn’t we have those old records? Of course, a prior survey would account for why we haven’t found anything more than traces of metal and mineral deposits here.” Gaber meant the continental shield. “But why under a logical regime no mention is made of a previous seismic history, I simply cannot understand.”

  “Oh, it is old, and probably got erased for modern programs. A computer does not have an infinite capacity for data storage.”

  Gaber snorted. “Scorching odd, I call it, to send down an expedition without the full facts at their disposal.”

  “Perhaps, but it’ll cut down on our time here: some of our work’s already done.”

  “Cut down our time here?” Gaber gave a derisive laugh.” Not likely.”

  Kai turned slowly to stare at the man. “What maggot’s in your mind now, Gaber?”

  Gaber leaned forward, despite the fact the two men were alone in the dome. “We could have been . . .” he hesitated affectedly, “. . . planted!”

  “Planted?” Kai let out a shout. “Planted? Just because the seismic shows old cores here?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time the victims weren’t told.”

  “Gaber, we’ve got the Third Officer’s beloved and only offspring with us. We’ll be picked up.”

  Gaber remained obdurate.

  “There’d be no point in planting us. Besides, what about the Ryxi and the Theks.”

  Gaber snorted scornfully. “The Theks don’t care how long they stay anywhere. They live practically forever, and the Ryxi were to plant anyhow, weren’t they? And it isn’t just those cores that convince me. I’ve thought so a long time — ever since I knew we had a xenobiologist and heavy-worlders with us.”

  “Gaber!” Kai spoke sharply enough to startle the older man, “you will not mention planting to me again, nor to anyone else in this expedition. That is an order!”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure it is, sir.”

  “Further, if I find you without your belt one more time

  “Sir, it pokes me in the gut when I’m bending over the board.” But Gaber was hurriedly fastening on the force-screen belt.

  “Leave the belt slack, then, and turn th
e buckle to one side, but wear it! Now, bring your recorder and some fresh tapes. I want to recon those lakes Berru charted . . .”

  “That was only yesterday, and as I told you I am three days behind . . .”

  “All the more reason for us to check those lakes out personally. I’ve got to show some progress in my next report to EV on deposits. And . . .” Kai tapped out a code, waiting impatiently at the terminal for the print-out on the mysterious core sites, “we’ll do a ground check on a couple of these.”

  “Well, now, it’ll be good to get away from the board. I haven’t done any field work yet on this expedition,” said Gaber, pressing closed his jumpsuit fastenings. He reached for the recording unit and tape blanks which he distributed in leg pouches.

  His tone was so much brighter and less dour and foreboding that Kai wondered if he’d been unfair to keep the man continually in the dome. Could that be why Gaber had come up with the astounding notion that they’d been planted. Too little action narrowed perceptions.

  But Gaber, as witness his laxity over the belt, was so narding absentminded that he was more of a liability than the youngest youngster in the landing party. As Kai recalled, Gaber’s credentials rated him as ship-bred, having made only four expeditions in his six decades. This would likely be the last if Kai made an honest report of his efficiency. Unless, the insidious thought plagued Kai, they had indeed been planted. Better than most leaders, Kai knew how undermining such a rumour could be. Yes, it would be better to keep Gaber so fully occupied that he had no time for reflection.