by Stuart Clark
Bobby laughed at Kate’s ignorance. “Well, take this little thing,” she said, lifting the cage she was carrying, in which a small furry creature darted frantically backwards and forwards, “I know nothing about it, its physiology, its biochemistry. Nothing at all. Based on that, how much tranquilizer would you suggest I use?”
“Well…the same amount that you’d use for any other animal that size I guess.”
“But you have no idea how that could affect this animal. You could cause a serious reaction, maybe even kill it.”
Kate was humbled into silence.
“I know it sounds crazy…” Bobby continued, “…bearing in mind what our jobs involve, but we hate to see the animals suffer. We still think this is the best way. Anyway, we spend a year in training to deal with these situations, to handle animals in close proximity. The risks are as minimal as they can be.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Kate said, “But it all seems so basic…the methods you use so archaic. I just thought things would be easier. I didn’t think it would be like this at all.”
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about us,” Bobby laughed. When no reply was forthcoming she said, “Oh don’t worry about us, Kate. We can take care of ourselves.”
* * * * *
After the equipment had been put away and they had all taken showers, the team regrouped for an evening meal. Kate was amazed at the contrast between the seven people she had been with during the day and the seven she now shared the table with. There was no more formality, no seriousness. No one mentioned the incident with the tree but they recalled other events from the day, laughing and joking about the strange and sometimes funny situations they had found themselves in. It was strange that they could find so much to laugh about. They seemed to see the good in everything. Alex and Chris were christened with the nicknames “Rookie” and “Kid” which brought much hilarity to everyone with the exception of the pair at the brunt of the joke, and sometimes even Kate would find herself smiling and chuckling at their stories.
Wyatt pushed his plate away from him and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin, still laughing at Par’s latest wisecrack. As his smile died he rose from his chair, “Sorry to have to be a party pooper,” he said, “But you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to take care of on the bridge.”
“Oh no, stay,” Bobby pleaded, “They’ll wait.”
“No really, I have to go,” he shrugged, “Perks of the job.” He turned and exited the room.
* * * * *
Wyatt was just finishing the daily checklist with the ship’s computer when the door opened and Byron joined him on the bridge.
“Hello, old friend,” Wyatt said smiling, “How are you doing? I really haven’t had much chance to talk to you so far. I mean, properly talk to you.”
“No. I know. I’m good. And you? How are you?” Byron looked at him sideways, “Really?”
“Fine,” Wyatt said hesitantly, puzzled by the concern in the voice. “How do you think Kate is getting on? Was she okay last night?”
“Oh, yeah. No problem. She needs to grow up a little bit, though. Typical college kid, thinks the world owes her a favor. Although I don’t think this world is going to be very obliging.” He laughed. “I get the feeling this is all a bit of an eye-opener for her. She’s a good kid, though and she’s got a lot more spirit than you give her credit for.”
Wyatt looked up at the comment, searching Byron’s eyes for something that would hint at how the statement should be taken.
“You forget, I’m older and wiser than you. I’ve seen the way you look at her. I know these things.”
Wyatt said nothing, just returned his gaze to the console he was working on, proceeding to flick switches.
“What do you want to do about the nocturnes?” Byron asked, breaking the silence, “That’s going to be a real shitty job.”
“Well, we have the thermal imaging cameras for night tracking and the proper equipment for our personnel. We can do it, all right, but like you say, it’s going to be a nasty job. Did you see the weather last night?”
“No, but I heard it,” Byron said with a laugh.
“Yeah, well. I was going to leave it ‘til last, and then I think we’ll have to draw lots!” The pair smiled at the joke and then the awkward silence returned.
“Why did you come here, Byron? We both know it wasn’t to talk about nocturnes.”
Byron sighed, preparing himself for what he had to say. “I don’t want to lecture you, Wyatt, but you messed up out there today. We almost had a body on our hands and it would have been your fault. You’re not behind a desk anymore. You’ve got to learn to be a trapper again. Be in tune with your senses…all of them, and all at the same time. Things happen that quick…” he clicked his fingers, “…and you’ve got to be ready to anticipate them or deal with them as and when they arise. You’re responsible for us. All of us…and especially those kids.”
Wyatt’s head fell in shame. “I know,” he said. “When that thing happened…with Chris, I was thinking about why there were no scavengers around. I got so caught up in it I didn’t even notice the danger Chris was in. I figured it out just at the same time as Bobby did, I guess. Fortunately she was closer than I was.” He paused, as if this confession pained him, “I was mad at myself for letting it happen and I took it out on Chris. No, on all of you. I’m sorry.”
Byron stepped closer and put a hand on his friend’s arm, “I know,” he said.
“I think maybe Bobby was right, you know. Maybe I have been away too long.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Byron said, “I just think you’re a little rusty.” He smiled briefly and then his face hardened. “But you’re a team leader, Wyatt and that means you have to lead this team, and I mean really lead them. Those kids know nothing different. If you tell them to jump, they’ll jump, but you have to be prepared to jump with them. Take control now, otherwise any respect they might have for you will disappear. We were lucky today, but you can’t let anything like that happen again.”
Wyatt nodded.
“Just thought you should know,” Byron said, stepping back and then turning for the door.
Wyatt turned back to his console and then back to Byron who was just disappearing. “Thanks, old man,” he called after him, “You know I value your opinion.”
Byron turned, “I know,” he said quietly, “That’s why I came.”
CHAPTER
8
Alex woke, squinting. Through a break in the curiously mauve cloud cover, rays of sunlight streamed in through the window. He rolled onto his side and made as if to climb out of the top bunk. Suddenly, Kit’s bearded face appeared next to him from under the bed. Alex started.
“God, you scared me, Kit,” he whispered, holding his chest.
“My, my. You are jumpy, aren’t you, rookie?” Kit said quietly. “Sleep well, did we? No more nightmares?”
“I tell you I saw…” Alex began, angrily.
“Save it, rookie! You got other things to worry about than what’s out there.” Kit said, indicating the window with a nod of his head. “I don’t like you, and d’you know why? Because you’re new, you’re gonna slow us down, and you whine a lot. Most of all ‘cause you’re scared. So watch your back, kid, ‘cause I’m gonna be right behind you and if you slip up, I’m gonna tread you straight into the dirt.”
“Get the hell outta my face!” Alex exploded. He pushed Kit away, who lost his fingertip hold on the edge of the bunk and was sent sprawling onto the floor. Over the other side of the cabin, Wyatt and Chris jumped awake, Wyatt instinctively reaching for his weapon. “What’s going on here?” he demanded, climbing out of his bunk.
“Nuthin’,” replied Kit, picking himself up off the floor.
Wyatt looked at Alex questioningly.
“No, nothing. Really,” Alex confirmed. “At least, nothing I can’t handle.”
Kit’s face contorted in anger at the veiled insult. Wyatt eyed the pair of them suspiciousl
y.
“Really,” Alex said again.
“You’d better be sure,” Wyatt said. “Because if anything flares up between you two later on, I’ll have the pair of you mucking out the pens for the remainder of this trip and I’ll even throw in the added bonus of clearing out the sewage tanks when we get back. Understood?”
Alex nodded. He presumed Kit was doing the same beneath him.
Alex was already regretting his actions. Kit was not the sort of person you wanted to get on the wrong side of and if his threats had been idle before, Alex was certain they weren’t now.
* * * * *
They took their breakfast in silence and then picked up their kits, just as they had done the day before. Wyatt called the marching order again and Alex was relieved to find that he was four places up the line from Kit.
“…And I’ll bring up the rear,” Wyatt finished.
They fell into line and headed off in almost the opposite direction from the day before, past the Santa Maria and into the clump of trees beyond it. Apart from the new direction, everything was identical to the previous day, Wyatt noted. Everything, that was, except that now both Kate and Alex watched Kit warily. As he followed the queue into the trees Wyatt wondered about the day ahead, and somewhere inside, he secretly hoped that today would be equally as eventful as yesterday. Familiarity bred contempt and contempt had no place here.
* * * * *
He knew it was going to be hot, but he had no idea how hot. The Computer had told him last night that the two suns would reach their apex at approximately the same time, making today both the hottest and shortest day they were likely to encounter on this planet. At best they could expect ten hours of daylight.
Even with frequent water stops the effects of the heat were draining. It was at times like this that a team was at its most vulnerable. To ignore the heat meant concentrating on something else, and to different people this meant different things. Some would simply begin to count their steps, staring at the ground and watching as each booted foot swung into view and then passed out of sight beneath them again. Others would hum tunes or recite passages or poetry and this meant added danger due to the additional unnecessary noise. Regardless, a team not concentrating on the task in hand would be caught off guard in any sudden emergency.
Wyatt remembered a young Spanish girl who had worked for Project U.L.F. She was not superstitious but she quoted many strange sayings. Some were utter nonsense, others more memorable, like proverbs. He was struggling to remember one she had quoted at him, about heat and the devil. El Diablo…When he had asked her to explain it she had had trouble translating it literally but said, “When Earth burns as hot as the fires of hell, the devil will come into the realm of man.” Ironically she had lost her life on a desert planet, bitten by a Sand Dragon, a nasty, venomous creature which lay buried in wait just inches below the sand. By the time someone reached her with anti-venom, the toxins in her body had already taken their toll. Reports from her crewmates stated that she had become delirious and just before her death she kept repeating the same two words: El Calor, El Diablo—The Heat, The Devil.
It was a sad story but despite the tragedy he laughed quietly to himself. Utter nonsense. Well, he thought, we certainly have the heat.
Rather than concentrate on something else, Wyatt was immersing himself in the discomfort the heat was causing him. Registering every bead of sweat that rolled off his forehead and ran down his cheek to drip off his chin. Identifying the relatively cool air against his skin when some movement would pull his sweat-sodden clothing off his body. He even exaggerated his walk to improve the ventilation. So intent was he on these sensations that he completely failed to feel the seedpod as it bounced off his helmet and fell harmlessly away behind him. It was only when the second bounced off his helmet and flew past him, into his peripheral vision, that he snapped out of his trance and slowly slid his weapon out of its holster.
“Visor. Rearview cam,” he said quietly to nobody. Silently, a clear visor dropped down from inside the helmet and over Wyatt’s eyes to the level of his nose. The small, rear-facing camera atop the helmet became active, conveying the view behind to Wyatt by means of a heads-up display, projecting the scene onto the right half of the visor. Through his left eye, Wyatt could still see the team and the forest ahead of him.
As he walked, he turned his head slowly to pan the rearview camera back and forth. He watched on the visor for some kind of movement behind him. At first he detected nothing, and then suddenly he saw something huge moving incredibly fast. Instinctively he ducked and a seedpod flew over his head. Of course, he had seen it when it had been close to him and it had filled the camera’s view. As he slowly stood up again to his full height he caught some movement in the trees behind him.
He turned his head to bring the camera to bear on its source and watched as a small brown arm slowly stretched around the trunk of a tree followed by a small head in which were set two huge and beautifully orange eyes. The creature darted quickly out of sight, as if it sensed it was being watched, but then slowly reappeared to peer cautiously after him. It was almost like the animal was playing peek-a-boo with him.
The creature jumped from the tree to its neighbor, clinging to this new trunk with long, curved claws. It was following them.
Bobby was taking point today and Wyatt radioed through to her via the helmet microphone. “Bobby, can you stop the team for a second, please?”
* * * * *
“We’ve got company,” Wyatt said. He was crouching, removing what looked like juggler’s clubs from his rucksack which he had placed on the forest floor.
At this news Kate, Alex and Chris instantly began to scan the trees. The others remained unmoved, watching Wyatt as he coolly pushed the narrow end of each one of four clubs into diverging spring loaded chambers located around the barrel of his gun, forcing them home with an audible click.
“It’s not dangerous,” he reassured them. “At least, I don’t think it is. It’s throwing nuts at me or something.” Bobby laughed.
From each of the four clubs ran a thin cord, joining the other three in a small bundle which Wyatt poked into the gun barrel. When he was satisfied that his weapon was set up correctly he put his rucksack back on and gave the team their instructions.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We carry on as normal, Bobby’s got point and I’ll take the rear. When we pass a good hiding place, I’ll drop off the back and wait for our friend to catch up with us. The rest of you continue walking. I’ll radio Bobby when I’ve caught the life form or if I need some help. Got it?” The others all nodded their agreement. “Okay, let’s go.”
* * * * *
“Okay, I’m dropping off the back now,” Wyatt said into the helmet microphone.
“Roger that,” he heard through the helmets built in headset. Bobby’s voice was clear through the background hiss of static.
“Radio silence until I call in again.” There was no reply. Obviously she was taking his orders literally.
Wyatt darted behind a large growth sprouting out of the bottom of a nearby tree. It was not, he realized, one of his better decisions; the growth was of some sort of fungal origin and he wrinkled his nose in distaste at its aroma. But he was here now so he would stay put.
He peered around the outcrop and watched. There it was! Forty yards away, slinking slowly around the trunk of a tree. It looked at the squad walking further into the forest and seemed to hesitate. Wyatt looked behind him and saw that Kit was now the man on the back of the column. Could this animal tell the difference between himself and Kit—they were of substantially different builds? Probably. With eyes that large and an ability to hit Wyatt at fifty yards, there was evidence enough to suggest that its eyesight was good.
Wyatt turned back just in time to see the animal launch itself into the air. It splayed its limbs wide, a thin membrane of skin opening between them. The creature half-jumped, half-flew to the next tree. It was so quick! Such a contrast to its movemen
t on the trees which was slow and laborious. The animal was now twenty-five yards away, and after seeing the speed with which it moved, Wyatt realized that his original plan, to catch the creature in flight, was going to be difficult at best.
He reached down and quickly rotated each of the club heads in turn. From each, a two-inch metal spike emerged. Satisfied, he readied himself.
The animal jumped again, landing on a tree not five yards away from where he was crouched. He trained his gun on the trunk and watched as the same slow, agonizing procedure which he had seen before was played out in front of him again. First the arm, reaching around, the claws on the tiny hand searching for a firm hold, then the body being hauled around to follow.
Wyatt stood quickly and fired, the four clubs launching from their separate channels, on diverging courses. The small bundle of cord flew apart and the resulting net fell across the back of the animal, while the clubs, embedding themselves in the tree with a solid “thunk”, held it in place.
“Okay, I got it,” he said, “Can someone assemble a cage on your way back here, please?”
“Of course.” From the tone in Bobby’s voice he realized he need not have asked.
The animal had not flinched, in fact it hadn’t even struggled. Even with the arrival of the rest of the team it stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving.
When the cage was complete Wyatt walked to the tree and grabbed the creature through the netting, just below its forelimbs. It squeaked, a tiny high-pitched sound, but other than that it showed no reaction. With his free hand Wyatt yanked the clubs out of the tree trunk and then tried to lift the animal off but it was stuck fast, the claws embedded deep in the bark. With much effort he managed to pry one hand off, but as he removed the other he found that the creature had replanted the first. This was hopeless. “Can someone give me a hand with this?”