by Darrell Bain
“I guess,” Jamie said. “We walked here; we can walk back if we have to."
Let him keep his optimism, Kristi thought. Hell, who knows? We may even make it. “OK, let's go. We'll stay under cover whenever possible and try to work our way back and across the interstate, then head south. Lady, you scout. Keep to cover. Don't bark unless it's necessary. Quiet, understand?"
“Yes,” Lady said. She moved off through the brush in the direction Kristi pointed out to her.
“Woggly, why don't you bring up the rear?” Kristi suggested as they moved off. “Warn us if anyone is following. Or anything else, for that matter. OK?"
“OK,” Woggly agreed, foregoing his usual assertive woof. He thoroughly understood the gravity of their present situation.
“You cats better stay close, now,” Kristi added. “No mouse hunting.” Neither of the cats answered. Both had been almost scared out of their wits by the sudden attack and the violence of the explosion in their rear and had no desire to stray far from their humans. Princess was especially subdued. Fuzzy Britches was also, but he carried an undertone of resentment. He was aggravated that strange humans had tried to hurt them and wished that he had had a chance to get in a couple of swipes at them before fleeing.
“What was that explosion, do you think?” Jamie asked as they wound through brush and overgrown dwellings at a slower pace.
“It puzzles me,” Kristi said. “I suspect that the gang which attacked us was recruited from the Dallas Enclave, but I can't imagine what they thought they were accomplishing by blowing up everything. They must want the same information we were after, but that wasn't a very intelligent way to go after it."
“Maybe it was an accident of some kind,” Jamie said.
“Could be. Maybe we'll find out someday. Hold up, I see floaters in the distance."
Janie could see them too, far to their rear, flying in low circles as if they were searching for something. They were no danger to them, though, being as well concealed as they were, but they made him nervous anyway. He waited until Kristi gave the signal, then they moved on, always keeping to the brush and trees, or hugging the other side of ruined buildings to keep out of sight of the distant floaters. After a while, they were no longer visible and Kristi quickened the pace.
They entered an area of lower ground, still boggy with the spring rains and struggled through it, followed by clouds of insects. Kristi sent Lady back over their trail once during the day to be sure that they weren't being followed. After that they went on, now and then having to climb upslope, cautiously, as cover thinned out.
Late that afternoon Kristi halted them again. “I think we had better find a place to stop before it gets dark,” she said. “I'm beginning to notice lots of rat signs."
Jamie, of course, had not noticed any spoor, but he halted with alacrity. “Do you think there might be a rat town nearby?"
“It's beginning to look like it, and if there is, I want us to pass it in the morning, not this late in the day. We might have to run for it and I don't want us crashing around in the dark if we do,” Kristi said. She scouted ahead cautiously, then stopped and shook her head. “Let's go back a bit. I think we just passed a place that might do."
Kristi led them back to the shell of a former service station, constructed of cinderblock, with all but one window still intact. The metal door was closed but Jamie was able to force it open after some effort. Birds and possibly bats had inhabited it in the past but there were no signs of them now. They swept out one corner with their feet to make room to stretch out. Jamie started to close the door but Kristi insisted that it be left open. “It's too easy to get trapped in here with the door closed. We'll sleep in our clothes as well and not set up the tent so we can move out fast if we have to."
The two humans sat facing the entrance, with the dogs just outside and the cats inside with them. Kristi took out rations for herself and her pets. Jamie started to do the same, but she stopped him. “No, we may as well go on half rations now. I'll share with you and your pets tonight, then we'll use your supplies in the morning. No floater to replenish us on the way back, remember?"
Jamie accepted half of her food bar. “Whitmire will send floaters out to look for though, won't he?"
“I'm sure he will, but that doesn't mean anything, considering how many of the enemy floaters we saw. They would have the devil's own time finding us, anyway. We'll have to stay under cover, and that means off the highways for the most part. It's not going to be easy. Half rations may look good before it's over with."
Jamie chewed thoughtfully, mentally counting the remaining rations in his pack. When he compared this figure to the least amount of time it might take them to walk all the way back to the Enclave, he came up with a sum so negative that he did the calculation over again. It still didn't compute.
“Don't look so dismayed,” Kristi said. “Look at me; I'm not complaining. It will be good for my figure to go hungry for a few days."
Jamie forced a grin. “I am looking. I like your figure the way it is."
“Why, thanks. Such a compliment will ease my conscience while I'm gorging myself when we get back.” She poked him in the ribs. “I think you like full figures, especially the parts you're staring at."
“Mother told me I was a greedy baby."
“You haven't changed since, so far as I can tell. You can feast to your heart's content once we're home.” Kristi took a deep breath. “But not until then. Isolated as we are, we can't take the chance of getting caught with our pants down, literally."
Jamie was trying hard to help with the banter. He knew Kristi was trying to under play their predicament. “So much the better when we can take them down, then. I'll bet Jeannie would even help.” He had intended to ease into the idea of forming a threesome with Jeannie and Kristi, but suddenly he remembered. “Oh no! Jeannie was supposed to fly out to join us today. Do you think the floater might have turned back?"
“There's no way of telling,” Kristi said, damning herself for letting Jamie bring the subject up. She had been worried, too.
Jamie's whole body slumped. How could he have forgotten?
“Take it easy,” Kristi said. “Chances are, she never made it here."
“I'm still worried."
Kristi reached over to hug him. “I guess I am too, but there's nothing to do about it now. Tell you what. Woggly and I will take the first shift while you get some sleep, then Lady will stay with you while I rest. Cheer up, we'll all come out of this somehow, Jeannie included."
Jamie nodded agreement. Kristi was putting an experienced human or dog on each shift and as she said, there was nothing at all he could do for Jeannie right now, worry as he might.
“Two hours each?"
“Yes, let's try that as long as we can. For a couple of days anyhow, until I'm sure we're not being followed. When we just have to rest longer, I'll find us a good spot to hole up in and we'll let the cats stand guard."
“Sounds good.” Jamie wormed over to the corner they had cleared of rubbish and stretched out, though he doubted that he could sleep with the events of the last two days still occupying his mind. He thought of Captain Masters, Conan, Judy and all the others he had traveled with. He wondered if they were still alive and perhaps struggling through the wilderness as he and Kristi were doing. His last thoughts were of Jeannie, then his mind quieted and he did sleep.
He awoke with a hand over his mouth. Startled, he began to grapple until he realized his hands were touching female flesh. He relaxed and the hand left his mouth. It was almost pitch dark.
“Kristi?"
“You were dreaming.” Her voice came to him as a whisper.
“Is anything wrong?"
“No, you were just making too much noise. Besides, it's your turn for guard."
“Oh. All right. They changed places in the dark.
At first Jamie started at every little night sound, but gradually he calmed. Lady moved around occasionally, circling the building, a pale wraith in th
e near total darkness. After a bit, Fuzzy Britches crawled into his lap and began purring softly. He thought how lucky he and Kristi had been to have their pets near when the attack came. Even luckier that the enemy force had apparently not brought dogs or they would have almost certainly been tracked down by now. He scratched affectionately at the base of Fuzzy Britches’ ears. For all the trouble enhanced animals had caused, there was compensation. His pets had brought a wealth of love and companionship into his life. And really, once the techniques of genetic engineering became so simple, he thought it inevitable that the present situation should develop. Besides, the pet plague had solved a lot of other problems along the way. War, overpopulation, the nagging, insoluble poverty of the third world, even industrial pollution. Perhaps it would be a good thing in the end, even if man couldn't hold a place on the planet. We can leave now and let the animals have the planet! If I get back, that is.
Jamie shifted his position to ease his cramped back, causing Fuzzy Britches to interrupt his purring for a moment, then roll over in Jamie's lap to have his belly rubbed, his favorite form of petting. Jamie scratched at the wiry fur, pausing occasionally to strip off a grass burr. Two weeks. Two weeks and we can be back. Jeannie. I wonder how she will react when I tell her I want to keep Kristi in my life as well as her. Or does she already know?
The night passed.
* * *
CHAPTER 24
It was night. Randall Craig was back at the original assault site, in the same building where the prisoners were being held. A faint miasma of death hung in the air from still exposed bodies from both sides. He had allowed no time for burial, nor would he the next day. He intended to simply move their camp forward, nearer to the area where he still had troops searching for survivors of the force from the Houston Enclave. He had had no success in finding the fleeing remnants that day and he cursed himself for ever allowing contact to be broken, even though it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He also realized he had made a mistake in not bringing dogs along, and was trying to rectify that situation now. With dogs, he could track them down, but apparently dogs were hard to come by. There were very few left in the Dallas Enclave; feelings were running high against enhanced animals there.
Randall spoke forcefully to his contact back in the Enclave. “Pay anything you like. Promise anything you like—just get me some tracking dogs,” he ordered.
“I'll try, commander, but I can't guarantee it,” the voice came back.
“How about the new men and floaters? When can I expect them?"
“They should be ready to leave in the morning. Give me your grid coordinates so they can locate you."
Craig entered the numbers into the computer and sent them on. He was just about to break contact when he was interrupted.
“Coded message for you, Commander. It's from Moon City."
“OK, patch me through."
“Randall Craig?"
Randall recognized the voice almost immediately, even through the decoder. Mayor Roscoe Bascombe. This wouldn't be much fun.
“Here.” Randall described the events of the last twenty four hours in meticulous detail. There was little value in trying to gloss over his failure. Even if he lied, he knew he would be found out, even before returning to the moon.
“Let me sum it up, Randall. The success of your mission is highly doubtful. Your only chance of succeeding is to capture this Da Cruz fellow, and so far, you haven't been able to locate him. You've called for reinforcements, tracking dogs and more floaters, armed and carrying IR gear. You will resume the hunt in the morning. Does that cover everything?” The mayor's voice was flat and neutral, as if he were speaking to a computer rather than one of his council members.
“That's it, Mayor. I'll stay with it right to the end. Just use all the pressure you can on your end to get me the help I need."
“I will. Now here is an item of information for you. We recorded a signal from the floater you said you shot down. It was definitely received in Houston, so you can expect them to be reinforcing, too. Watch for them and try your damndest. They can get more stuff in the air than we can manage, I think. If you haven't found Da Cruz by the time they arrive, it's unlikely that you will. Understand me?"
“Yes, sir.” Randall understood perfectly. Find Da Cruz. Bring him with you to Moon City. Or don't bother coming back.
* * * *
John Whitmire had spent another almost sleepless night. It seemed lately that any sleep he managed to get was at his office, where he had moved in a couch. He had been told of the signal from the downed floater the morning before and had cursed himself for ever allowing Jeannie to bully him into allowing her to leave the Enclave with it, but it was too late for second thoughts now. He tried to put the fate of the girl from his mind while he organized another expedition. This one would go entirely by air and would leave at dawn.
There had been no opposition from the previously doubtful council members this time. The fact that his first expedition had been ambushed and perhaps destroyed testified to the importance of the second. Even now, technicians were frantically outfitting floaters with heavy laser guns which could be fired by the pilots, while the Enclave ranger commander was just as frantically scouring the barrier patrols for more troops to send into battle.
Whitmire had no way of knowing, of course, that the point of rivalry had shifted from the now dead alien and it's destroyed craft to the sole person of Jamie Da Cruz. He conferred with the commander of the new force as dawn approached. They sat side by side, engulfed in a holo image, split between pictures Masters had sent the day before and the grid coordinates of his last position.
“This is the approximate location where our floater went down,” Whitmire said, tracing through the image with his finger. “Send one floater crew to look for them as soon as you can. There might be survivors. Send more when and if you can, but your first priority must be re-capturing the alien and it's spacecraft.” He winced inwardly as the young, determined image of Jeannie's face as he had last seen her flitted through his mind, almost as if it represented all the young lives he had seen cut short in his lost England.
“I'm giving you complete freedom of action,” he continued. “Use your force in the way you think best, even if you have to delay looking for that floater. Your command craft will have a decoder we've rigged up, but tell the other pilots that if they lose contact with you to forget about security. Maintaining contact with me has priority. I don't want to be out of touch again until this thing is over, one way or another."
“Yes, sir. Anything else?"
“No. Go on and get started. Godspeed."
The commander left. Whitmire sat for a moment, debating with himself between breakfast or sleep. He needed both and didn't have time for either.
* * * *
Jeannie stayed in the grounded floater all that day, waiting for the healing medicine to alleviate the pain from her broken ribs. She found some cargo blankets among the gear and used them to cover the bodies of the pilots. Later in the day, when movement became not quite so painful, she thought of trying to signal the Enclave. She uncovered the body of the co-pilot, averting her eyes from the bloody remains. An ‘on line’ message glowed from the control board, but the computer refused to recognize her voice. Apparently it was tuned to the pilots and no others. Probably it wouldn't have mattered. Even as she spoke, the glowing message dimmed and went out, telling her as plainly as words could have that the last trace of power was gone. She gave up and covered the body again, then moved back into her little alcove in the rear of the floater.
The daylight hours were not too bad, but she grew increasingly fretful as the sun waned. The inherent horror most citizens felt about the wilds began to creep into her soul. Images of the huge bears and bearded, skin-clad feral humans Kristi had told her about assaulted her mind. Before night fell, she crawled back into the rear of the floater where the protective canopy was still intact and piled gear into a makeshift barricade. She checked her laser gun repeat
edly, afraid that it might not work if she needed it.
Twilight came, then faded into darkness, a dark Jeannie had never experienced before. Every little night sound sent her pulse racing, thinking of huge intelligent rats and bears and dogs creeping up on her in the night. She resolved not to sleep lest she be surprised and eaten, not thinking that she would surely have to sleep sometime, and the relative safety of the wrecked floater might be the best place to do it in. She thought of rigging an alarm of some sort where the shattered front canopy provided easy access, but it was already too dark to see. She moaned to herself for not thinking of it earlier. Between starts of alarm she thought of Jamie and cried silently to herself at the thought that he might be dead. The enemy craft had certainly shown no mercy in attacking Nhu's craft; she could only presume that they had been equally determined on the ground. She wondered where Kristi might be and wept some more at the thought of how safe she had felt that night she had slept with her. Always, though, her thoughts turned back to Jamie. Surely, surely, he could not be dead.
When not thinking of Jamie or taking alarm at noises in the night, she tried to plan ahead. She couldn't stay where she was, that was for certain. There was no way she could endure another day trapped in the wreckage of the floater with decomposing bodies. But what to do? She had only a vague idea of how far away the Enclave might be, and she was even more uncertain of the direction, knowing only that it lay somewhere to the southwest. Would it be possible to walk that far alone, through the wilds, armed only with a light laser gun and knife, and survive the trip? She doubted it, and doubted her ability to find the Enclave even if she should live that long. Suppose she tried to make it back to their original destination and surrender to the unknown enemy who had shot them down? That didn't seem like a very good idea either. The attacking floaters had been too murderously intent on their destruction. But wouldn't they accept the surrender of a single scared young girl? She just didn't know. The idea of warring factions of humans was so alien to her that for all she knew they might shoot her on sight.