The Pet Plague

by Darrell Bain

  Randall took the glasses from his eyes and leaned back in the uncomfortable webbed seat. He was tired from the inexorable weight of earth's gravity, six times what he was used to. It had been too long since his piloting days to bear it comfortably, regardless of the almost religious intensity he paid to exercise. Somewhere along the way, his body had aged more than he thought it had. The relentless weight enervated him, making it hard to concentrate.

  He had finally decided on a contingent of fifty men carried in a half dozen floaters. He had managed to find one heavy laser gun, a relic of the old army and a novice crew to man it, but he had little confidence in their ability. There were no armed floaters to be had; with the decline of internecine warfare among humans had come a similar decline in the instruments of warfare. Only police floaters carried even nominal built-in armaments and none of them had the range to go with him. He had had to content himself with an impromptu arrangement where the canopies of the floaters were hurriedly reworked to allow two heavy laserifles to be fired from them by his troops.

  Randall thought most of the troops would be dependable. They were all from the Enclave security forces and already used to exercising brutal authority to keep the population in line. The Dallas Enclave had become little more than a police state after food supplies began to fail. Rats might be keep at bay for a while yet, but there had been no defense against the locust swarms, a legacy of the declining bird population. He was worried, though the hard contours of his face didn't show it. After the briefing and tentative assignment of objectives, he had been called back to his landing craft. A message from Moon City over their secure circuit confirmed that the Houston Enclave expedition had reached their objective and signaled back, breaking their week-long silence. A floater would even now be searching out the landmarks that had been given, and no doubt other floaters were being made ready to reinforce once they were found.

  Word had also come while he was still in space of Cadena's apprehension, by Da Cruz's girl friend, of all people. It had been a blow, but not a fatal one, merely requiring them to depend on satellite observation of the coming and goings of floaters supporting the expedition to pinpoint their location, rather than direct input from Cadena. It was almost a certainty now that the Houston Enclave authorities suspected Moon City had fielded an expeditionary force as well as they. It was now simply a race to see who got there first.

  The delays inherent in organizing a mercenary force so quickly, so far from his normal habitat, and having to work in relative secrecy had been extremely frustrating, but now Randall thought there was a good chance of success. His force was certainly sufficient to overwhelm the one opposing him; the last remaining problem was to force a battle before they could be reinforced.

  The broken landscape below began showing specks of green as time passed, and eventually a forest appeared, stretching out from each side of the old Interstate they were following. Some stretches were hidden by overgrowth but enough of it remained to keep them on target. The fleet passed over the ruins of a moderate sized city, split by a wide river. Randall's pilot noted the location on his display and said, “About sixty miles now. Another forty minutes."

  “Good. Just remember how we planned it. Follow this old highway right through the city to the river. Land us in the first spot where we see any humans. Don't signal until you actually see someone. We don't want to give any warning at all."

  “Right,” the pilot said. Randall checked his weapons again.

  * * * *

  “There!” Randall said loudly, pointing at an angle to the right of the rapidly descending floater. A cluster of dogs and humans were grouped in front of one of a line of rectangular buildings along the waterfront. Just to the left was a good enough landing site, clear of large trees.

  “Contact!” Randall yelled, excitement shooting through his body. He pointed. “Land to the left there.” He keyed the mike. “Randall here. We're going in. Follow at intervals. Disperse to plan and assault. Take prisoners!"

  The floater landed halfway up the slope from the river, followed quickly by three others. The other two hovered in reserve. Randall stayed inside his floater as the rear canopy popped and a squad of men jumped to the ground and began running up the slope.

  There was little chance of taking many captives. The ranger force reacted quickly, firing into Randall's approaching force almost immediately. At the same time, orders were shouted to the dogs and they loped through the low brush to the attack, almost unseen until they were upon their quarry. Randall caught a glimpse of running figures to the right of the developing skirmish line and shouted a warning, but it was ineffective; he could not be heard over the rattle of laser gun fire. It would have been too late in any case. His troops that had poured from the grounded floaters were already heavily engaged. Laserbeams and explosive slugs were pouring in lancing fire from in front and inside the line of buildings.

  The running figures Randall had spotted were Masters and his four rangers. They advanced in spread formation, stopping to fire then running forward again, downing a number of the enemy before they noticed the enfilading fire from their flank.

  Randall ducked reflexively as a beam smoked along the canopy of his floater. The slug whanged off into the distance, not hitting with enough force to explode. As he looked back up, he saw another floater drop over the towers of the city, descending from the southwest. He recognized instantly that it must be from the Houston Enclave. “Craft five and six, floater above you! Get it, don't let it get away!” His reserve floaters rose in pursuit. As he turned to watch them he saw his heavy laser gun crew get off a round from their weapon. The shot went wide left of where they were aiming, directly through the entrance and into the ruined shop housing the alien being. A tremendous explosion rent the air a second later, blowing out the rest of the already damaged interior and scattering men and dogs like tenpins. The inadvertent shot had set off something in the constituent of the alien spacecraft.

  Masters was bowled over by the force of the explosion. He rose back to his knees, groping for his laserifle, then saw that the blast had come from the last berthing place of the alien. The entrance had blown out and the roof as well, puncturing men, dogs and enemy indiscriminately in a cone of destruction. Masters made an immediate decision. There could be nothing left from such destruction. With the alien and it's landing craft destroyed, there was nothing left for them here. Besides, he was outnumbered and outgunned. “Pull out, pull out!” He yelled as loud as he could over the momentary quiet, hoping his people could hear. His ears were still ringing from the tremendous thunderclap of the explosion. He paused to fire twice, then grabbed the arm of a wounded ranger near him and began to retreat.

  The withdrawal turned into a long running firefight as Masters tried to separate his remaining force from the hastily re-organized and pursuing enemy, weaving through and around the old buildings of the central city. He had caught a glimpse of the two enemy floaters chasing and firing at another which he presumed was his own from Houston. He hoped it got away, but there was no time to worry about it, as shortly the two were back, harassing his dwindling force from the air. After several misses, he finally got a shot into the canopy of one of them. It veered off and went down beyond the rooftops. The other pulled back out of range and he was at last able to shake off the pursuit.

  Masters looked around at what was left of his force. They had gone to ground in a heavily overgrown portion of the old city, still near the interstate but at ground level rather than atop the still intact elevated portion. Judy was nearby, breathing heavily and supported by Sgt. Costa who hardly seemed winded at all. Only three other rangers were still with him and two of them had been wounded, although not badly. They could still walk. Of dogs, only three remained; most of them had been in the cone of the blast set off by the heavy laser gun. Wolfgang was still alive, but he had seen Conan go down almost immediately, torn by an exploding slug. As bad off as he was, though, he knew that the invading force had been badly hurt too, first from the
ferocity and speed of their attacking dogs which had unnerved them, then by the explosion which tore apart men from both sides with indiscriminate violence. Now, he had to decide on a further course of action.

  Masters had instinctively led his rangers back in the direction from which they had come. He felt fairly certain that Jamie and Kristi had gotten away. Kristi would have led Jamie upriver, the only avenue open to her, and then inland into concealing brush and trees. From there, he calculated she would try to work back to the vicinity of the interstate and try to follow it out of the city and then cut south towards the Carthage ruins. His decision now was whether to hold tight and hope for reinforcements, to try to make a forced march back to the Enclave, or to try and follow Kristi and Jamie's presumed route in order to link up and protect them. It didn't take long to make up his mind. The vital nature of the information Jamie carried dictated his actions.

  “Wolfgang.” His pet nuzzled his hand. “Scout, Wolf. That way. Find Kristi.” He pointed in the direction which he hoped would intersect the route of Kristi and Jamie's flight. If they had gotten away. If they survived long enough for him to find them. Two humans alone in the wilds had little chance of living more than a few days.

  * * * *

  Randall looked out over the recent battlefield as he talked with his lieutenants, the two who had survived. It was a near disaster. He had lost two thirds of his force and half of his floaters. He had failed to anticipate the ferocity of the attacking dogs which had held many of his troops in place, right in the path of the explosion set off by the heavy laser gun crew. Damn them. It would be a rainy day on the moon before they ever got passage there, even if they were still alive, which he sincerely hoped they weren't. Their errant fire had left nothing to salvage from the alien or it's craft. The building which had held it was a burned out shell. Only one of the scientists from the Houston Enclave had survived, and she was being questioned now. If anything was to be learned, she was his last hope right now. Thoughtfully, he had brought along the proper drugs for that.

  “Get on the horn to Dallas,” he said to one of his subordinates. “Tell them we need at least four more squads and tell them we need some armed floaters. Rig them up someway, but get them armed. Stay here and keep the connection open until I can check on our prisoners.” He motioned to the other man to follow into an undamaged building where the few captives they had taken were being confined.

  Maria Martinez was sitting on a bench, eyes glassy from the drug she had been given, unaware of the questions she had answered. Two ranger prisoners and a single survivor of Cortman's tribe were slumped beside her, but they were being ignored. Nothing useful had been gained from them.

  The interrogator turned to Randall as he came up. “Commander, I think we got something from this one.” He pointed at Maria.

  “Don't keep me in suspense."

  The man blinked. He was a trusted confidant, but it was easy to see that Randall was in a foul mood. He said hurriedly, “One of their scientists by the name of Da Cruz got all the information out of that space critter. No one else had time before we got here."

  Da Cruz! “Did we get him?"

  “I don't know. This is all the prisoners we have, except for a couple too badly wounded to question."

  “Well, Goddamnit, let's find out. Bring her along and see if she can identify him from the bodies."

  “Yes, sir.” He pulled Maria to her feet. He quickly checked her reflexes, then added a booster to the dose of drug she had already received. Maria wavered on her feet but came along when urged, completely unresisting.

  An hour later, Randall was relatively certain that Da Cruz was not among the dead. He must be with the remains of the defeated ranger force. Randall quickly gathered what men were available and told them in no uncertain terms what their status was. “You men were recruited with the promise of transportation to Moon City once we completed our mission. Let me tell you right now that it is not over. The one man we have to have has apparently escaped. We must go after him now, without delay, with whatever we have. I'm calling in reinforcements and more floaters to help, but for now you're it. The man we want has straight dark hair, mustache, medium build, medium weight, moderately dark complexion. He travels with a tan shaggy dog and a vari-colored cat. This man must be taken alive. I'll personally shoot any man who kills him. Unless he is captured, our mission is a failure and none of you will allowed to immigrate. Now get going."

  The mercenaries obeyed with alacrity. Randall hurried back to the floater where his other lieutenant was waiting. “Get back to Dallas and tell them to rig a couple of the floaters they're sending with IR gear.” He stifled the beginning of a protest. “Yes, I know floaters aren't normally equipped with IR, but now they must be. See to it. Hurry, speed is essential. If we let the survivors escape into wild country, we'll never catch them.” As he climbed into the lead floater to begin the chase, Randall thought, Damn, if we don't get Da Cruz, Bascome may not let me back into Moon City, never mind anyone else. The concept was depressing, even more so than the constant, implacable pull of excessive gravity on his tired body, but he was a professional. He straightened his shoulders and began scanning the ground as soon as the floater became airborne.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 23

  While Jamie was still gathering his wits and Kristi was urging him away from the battle scene, they were both staggered by the terrible explosion from along the waterfront buildings. It was far enough away that it failed to knock them off their feet as Masters had been, but it halted them in their tracks.

  “What the hell was that,” Jamie asked, pausing from their headlong flight. He turned to look, but Kristi grabbed him again.

  “Never mind. Run! Lady, scout! Cover!” She urged him along again, breaking into a run as soon as he began moving. Jamie hurried to keep pace, beginning to pant. Woggly and Fuzzy Britches and Princess ran at their side.

  Lady led them most of a mile down river until it began curving back northwest, then Kristi took over, turning them south. “This way. Through the city now. Hurry.” They trotted through ruins of an old residential district where half the houses had fallen and most of the rest were crumbling. The whole district was thick with trees and underbrush. Kristi kept them under cover, never crossing an open space before scanning the skies in all directions.

  “I have to rest,” Jamie finally said, gasping for breath. A sharp pain stitched his side at every step.

  “Just a little further. Let me find a good place to stop."

  Jamie struggled on, legs turning to water, the pain in his side becoming fiercer. Only when the sound of battle had died completely away did Kristi allow a rest, under a grove of trees surrounded by a thick secondary growth. He fell to the earth immediately. Fuzzy Britches plopped down beside him, tongue lolling like a dog and panting even heavier than he was. Cats are not made for prolonged speed.

  When he finally had some of his breath back, Jamie asked, “Now what?"

  A troubled look settled over Kristi's face. “Jamie, I don't think I have to tell you that we're in trouble. Troy said to get you away and I've done that, but as you say, ‘now what'? You have that disk with everything we came for, but it won't do a damn bit of good unless we get you back to the Enclave. That's the problem."

  “Do you think Masters is dead?” It was hard for Jamie to picture. The ranger captain was such a vital man that it was hard to imagine him gone. It was as if the force of several personalities had been packed into his one small tough body.

  Kristi had the same problem. She had known Masters almost as long as she could remember and to her he seemed like an elemental force, indomitable and unchanging. “I don't know, and for our purposes, it might be better if he is, hard as that is to imagine."

  “Why on earth do you say that?” Jamie was stricken with the idea.

  “Suppose he has been taken captive? You know as well as I that no one can resist interrogation under seronal. If that's the case, those bastards will be after us with every
thing they can scrape together. They will know we got away, and they will have our description."

  “So, I guess we better get moving again.” Jamie got to his feet, though he still felt weak and shaky from their prolonged run.

  “Sit down a minute. We're safe here for a little while.” Kristi wanted to think. She considered the previous route to Conan's home, their flight from the battle, their present position, and most importantly, the best way to get them back to the safety of the Enclave. She knew that Jamie had no realistic idea of how to gauge direction; she would have to lead and try to keep them alive. Although Jamie had become marginally competent in the wilds, she held no illusions about his chances of making it all the way back to the Enclave by himself, and his pets wouldn't be that much help. She finally decided that they should cut through the old city at an angle then follow the interstate on a parallel route until they were west of the city. From there, she would head them south across the highway and back toward the Enclave. She gave him a quick glance and noted his trusting face.

  No sense telling him how slim our chances are of making it. Two humans, two dogs and two cats, and only her and Lady with experience in eluding the enhanced animals. Rats and dogs and wolves. Large hunting cats and chimps. Even bears, now. Kristi shuddered inwardly at the thought of their slim company meeting bears again, especially if they were accompanied by their feral human cohorts. It wouldn't be a fight, it would be a slaughter, plain and simple. Yet somehow, she had to get them home again, not only because Jamie was one of the most endearing men she had known for a long time, but because of his vast importance now. She vowed to herself that she would succeed if there were any way possible. She doubted that there was, but no need to let him know that. She got to her feet.

  “Let's move on. We've got a long way to go."