Project U.L.F.

by Stuart Clark

  “Can I help?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. Sure. This little guy’s no problem, just a pain in the ass.”

  Alex laughed.

  “All you have to do is hold his arms and legs once I get them off. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  After many minutes, and to the entertainment of the others, the pair finally managed to get the creature off the tree. Wyatt held it with one hand across its back. It did not struggle in his grip, just dangled from his hand, arms and legs splayed wide, long furry tail hanging uselessly below. It regarded them with a look of curiosity, the beautiful saucer eyes blinking occasionally and ever so slowly.

  “Aaaah, he’s adorable,” Kate said.

  “Yeah, well don’t get any funny ideas. That’s a wild animal, regardless of how nice he looks,” Wyatt said, carefully placing the creature in the cage.

  “Oh come on, Wyatt,” Bobby said, “Even you have to admit it is kind of cute.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes and then smirked, shaking his head in disbelief.

  * * * * *

  “Ah, yes, sir,” the smartly dressed young man said to Mannheim, “General Leonardson is already here and awaits you at your table.”

  “Where is he?” Mannheim asked.

  “Just over there, sir. The table against the far wall.”

  Mannheim squinted through the gloomily lit room and saw Leonardson. At first he did not recognize him. He was dressed in civilian clothing and not his usual CSETI silver tunic, but this was a public place so that probably explained it. Still, there was no mistaking those features, even in the dim light.

  “I’m sorry, where did you say General Leonardson was?”

  “General Leonardson, sir?” the Maitre d’ enquired. “No, sir, General Leonardson has not frequented this establishment this evening.”

  They smiled at each other and Mannheim passed a credit chip to the younger man. “Very good,” he said, “Very good.”

  * * * * *

  “Kurt!” Mannheim bellowed like a long lost friend, “Nice to see you again!”

  Leonardson hid his face with his hand and whispered, “Will you shut up and sit down!”

  “Relax, Kurt. Relax. Nobody here knows who you are.”

  Leonardson was about to reply when the service droid arrived with their drinks. He gestured towards it with a nod of his head.

  “Very gracious. Thank you.” Mannheim said, lifting his glass out of the droid’s receptacle. “Now then, Kurt, why did you call me here today?”

  Leonardson toyed with his glass. It was obvious he was nervous about something. “I wanted some reassurance, actually.”

  “Oh? About what?”

  “About that information I sent you. Have you destroyed it?”

  “Yes, of course. That is what you requested of me.”

  “Good…good. I fear I may have overstepped the mark releasing that information. That stuff is highly sensitive. The CSETI doesn’t like failures.”

  “I know, I appreciate that.”

  “So am I right in concluding that you haven’t acted on that information?”

  “Of course,” Mannheim smiled. “You and I both know the only time the CSETI release information is when their missions succeed and their crews return. That’s how everyone gets to know about the location of these new planets. The fact that the IZP learns of them slightly in advance of the other zoos…” he smirked “…has been a cause for concern among others, I’ll grant you that. But that’s the way of the world. Finders keepers. It’s our well-kept secret.” He drank from his glass. “Now, coming to the point in question,” he said seriously, frowning and pointing a finger for emphasis. “If I did send a team to this place you told me about and they returned, then we’d be found out, and I can’t let that happen. This relationship has been far too profitable for me to ruin.” He gave Leonardson his Cheshire cat grin and noted the look of contempt he received in return. “So you assume correctly, my friend. I simply cannot send a team to that planet, can I now?”

  Leonardson fell back into his chair visibly relieved, “Good. Then it is as I thought,” he said. He sat there for a minute relishing the lifting of the doubt from his shoulders. With his worry abated he could now vent some of his hatred. His face hardened and he jerked upright again, fishing in his pocket. “I almost forgot,” he said abruptly, removing a small chip, “This is for you.”

  “What is it?” Mannheim asked.

  “The information you requested on Epsilon 721, the planet where they’ve just started mining Phentoria.” Leonardson glanced around nervously.

  “Oh really,” Mannheim said, his face brightening, “Anything good to report? Any truth in the rumors of silicon-based life forms?”

  “Jesus Christ, Douglas!” Leonardson whispered sharply, “Do you expect me to tell you here? In a public place? It’s all on the chip, look it up yourself!”

  “It was a joke!” Mannheim explained, throwing his arms wide, feigning innocence.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t find you or your jokes very funny!” Leonardson snarled. He got up from the table and stormed away.

  Mannheim watched him go. He had balls, that Leonardson. It wasn’t many people who would turn and tell their blackmailer to go to hell. Still, Leonardson may have left pissed off, but in another sense he had left a happy man, thinking that Mannheim had just ditched that information. But in some respects what Mannheim had told him was true. He would never send a team to that planet if he thought they would return; that’s why he had sent a team he knew could not return. Why did Leonardson need to know about Wyatt and his crew?

  He chuckled to himself and the action made the ice cubes in his drink chink against the glass held in his hand. Remembering it, he downed it just as the waitress arrived.

  “Are you ready to order?” she asked.

  “Ah, yes.”

  “And your friend? Is he eating too?”

  “Oh, no,” Mannheim said, “I think I shall be dining alone.”

  “Very well,” she said, and they exchanged forced smiles.

  * * * * *

  The new acquisition had curled itself up in the corner of the cage and seemed quite comfortable. It was almost worrisome that it had not even attempted to escape. Kate found herself repeatedly checking the animal to make sure it was all right and that this behavior was not shock-induced. Every time she looked down at the cage in her hand she found the same pair of huge golden eyes looking back at her from a bundle of brown fur. It broke her heart to see such a docile animal contained like this.

  They had made good progress and the forest was thinning. The shade gave way to dappled sunlight. Abruptly, the forest ended, and as they emerged from the trees they were presented with a stunning view.

  They were on the edge of a canyon, looking across a maze of valleys which zigzagged away to the horizon. To their right, in the distance, a range of a dozen mountains dominated the skyline, wearing the mauve cloud like a garter, their tips visible above the colored strip. Just above the mountains, the first of the two suns burnt scarlet, and higher still, much higher in the sky, the second was a dazzling yellow. At the bottom of the gully, three hundred feet down, the valley floor was totally covered by tall grass and behind them, the forest followed the edge of the ravine to their right and left, its perimeter defined by the chasm.

  Par tentatively moved toward the edge and peered over. “It’s about three hundred feet straight down,” he said, “But it’s quite a rocky cliff face so there are plenty of handholds.”

  “We’re going down there?” Chris asked, shocked.

  “Yeah, of course,” Wyatt replied. “It’s a different habitat down there so there’s a chance we’ll encounter some different animals. Anyway, we’ve got time.”

  “Well, let’s hope we don’t catch anything big,” Byron moaned. “I don’t fancy lugging it back up here.” Par laughed at his lack of enthusiasm.

  Chris brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the suns and surveyed the plain. “If there was
anything of substantial size down there, we’d see it from up here…right?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. His question was greeted with silence. When he turned back to the others for confirmation he still got no reply. It seemed no one was prepared to give the obvious answer. He shrugged his shoulders.

  Slowly, carefully, they picked their way down the side of the ravine. Bobby and Byron passed the cage between them while Par lent Kate a helping hand when she experienced difficulties.

  After nearly three quarters of an hour they found themselves at the bottom of the rock wall and were surprised at what they found there. What had looked like grass from the cliff top was not grass at all, more like bamboo cane, tough but flexible and growing to about eight feet in height.

  “Okay, I want Byron on point and Kit bringing up the rear, the rest of us will mix it up in the middle,” Wyatt said.

  Byron stepped into the cane field, advancing three or four steps before stopping and sniffing, letting his nose adjust to the predominant smell of the cane. He walked on, parting the cane with his hands and forearms, and Chris fell into step behind him.

  The line snaked its way through the cane for over an hour without sighting a single life form. Alex’s voice crackled through on their headsets, “Is it just me or is this a waste of time? I mean, with the damn racket we’re making nothing will come within a hundred klicks of us. I suggest…”

  “Shhh!” Up ahead, Byron had halted the line.

  “What?”

  “Shhh!”

  Wyatt fell out of formation and quietly made his way up to where Byron was stood. He looked at his friend. “What’s up?” he whispered.

  Byron just tapped his nose with his forefinger.

  Wyatt sniffed. Yes, there was something. Another odor hardly discernible over the strong, sweet smell of the cane, but it was there sure enough.

  He turned and motioned the others to join them and when they were huddled together he held up three fingers and then made a sweeping motion with his hand. He then tapped his gun and indicated his eyes. It was all sign language for ‘Three yard spread, have your weapons ready and stay alert.’ They would form a line laterally—three yards apart so they could see the person directly to their right or left—and then the line would advance. They could then cover an area of roughly twenty-five yards across. Bobby grabbed Kate’s arm and motioned for her to stay behind her.

  As quickly and quietly as possible the team fanned out to form the new line and when they were all in place Wyatt motioned them forward. They took each step cautiously, making no rapid movements, communicating with each other only by hand signals. 5 paces…nothing. 10 paces…nothing. It seemed Byron’s fears were unfounded. 13 paces…14 paces.

  Suddenly the ground began to shiver beneath their feet and they had the impression of a great bulk rising somewhere up in front of them. Each of them could see an area of the cane field some fifteen yards in front rising above the rest and hear the shifting of the dry dusty soil. As abruptly as it had started, the noise and the motion ceased.

  The team, who had all instinctively crouched where they stood, now shared puzzled looks with their neighbors. Up ahead, through the cane, they could now see an appendage, curled wickedly above the growth. A segmented limb with a broad, flattened end.

  Alex looked to his right and could just make out Par through the vegetation, crouched absolutely still, staring only at the dark form which had appeared in front of them. To his left was Kit, who returned his glance and whispered, “Are you scared, rookie?”

  He remained crouched there for a moment, angry at the comment. Then his blood began to boil. Scared? Scared? “I’ll give you scared,” he said, and in that instant his sanity snapped and he was up and running. Running toward the limb and the creature hidden from view that owned it.

  “No!” Par screamed, and then he too was running, chasing after Alex in a bid to stop him. The others followed, joining the pursuit. Running after Alex. Running toward the thing that awaited them in the cane ahead.

  The brittle shoots snapped with his passing and the limb ahead turned towards the noise. Then it seemed to hesitate, to jerk first this way and then that.

  Alex was oblivious to the noise the others were making as they chased him through the cane. It was this that had caught the animal off-guard. Now it had to deal with eight different attacks, not just one. An ambush from a social pack of animals, perhaps. The limb began to rapidly move away from them. Instantly the sound of snapping cane doubled, as the creature crashed through the growth, moving its huge bulk in an attempt to escape. “You’re mine!” Alex screamed after it, and quickened his pace.

  When he burst out of the cane and into the clearing the animal had left in its wake, Alex realized he had made a grave error of judgment. “Oh, Jesus,” he said quietly.

  It was fifteen yards away and still backpedaling, but even from this distance Alex could see that it was huge. On sight of him it stopped, tapping one of its ten legs on the earth as if it was considering its options.

  Alex was suddenly aware of the sound of the others behind him. It would be all right, he told himself, they were coming to help him. But the noise had stopped and no one had joined him in the clearing. A wave of fear washed over him. He suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  Across the clearing the animal had slowly begun to advance on his position. It was easily as big as a police transporter back on earth and it looked as if it was equally well-armored, the limbs segmented, each segment covered by a thick plate of tissue. The appendage they had seen was its tail, curled high over the animal’s back.

  It was quite squat, the body supported only a couple of feet above the ground by eight of the legs, which moved independently from each other. The forelegs were adapted, huge pincers at their ends held high and opened wide in defense. There was no head as such, but at the front of the long body Alex could see mandibles opening and closing, saliva frothing and bubbling between them. Above these, two rows of eyes regarded him with a cold, transfixing gaze. Two small eyes, set below four larger eyes, all unblinking black orbs.

  He wanted to turn and run but he was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear. From the corner of his eye he caught some movement. Byron was inching his way through the cane to his right, crouching, coming past him and moving steadily towards the animal’s position. Behind him was Wyatt. Alex turned his head and saw Kit and Par mirroring them to his left.

  What were they doing? Surely they weren’t intending to encircle the animal in an attempt to catch it. This thing was huge! They would never be able to contain it and get it back to the ship.

  The animal’s confidence was growing and its first tentative steps towards Alex had become a purposeful advance on his position. Why aren’t the others coming to help me? Either his mind was read or some divine intervention was responsible for what happened next, since Wyatt stepped into the clearing to his right.

  The creature stopped in its tracks.

  “What’s he doing?” Kate frantically whispered to Bobby, the pair of them crouched in the cane, watching the drama unfold in front of them.

  “Evening the odds,” Bobby said with a faint smile on her face.

  “Don’t move, Alex,” Wyatt said quietly into his microphone. “Visor. Thermal imaging camera,” he said.

  As it had done before, the visor slipped over his eyes, and this time the forward-facing thermal imaging camera switched on, superimposing a breakdown of the animal’s heat sources over Wyatt’s view of the creature. It was an invaluable tool. It could detect heat-generating chemical reactions within animals which were often indicative of the readying of some biological armament. There was nothing on his visor. He slapped his helmet with his hand, slowly, so as not to alarm the beast in front of him, thinking that the camera was still inactive, but it was on and functioning perfectly. Somehow, the animal’s armor shell was preventing its body heat from being detected. Possibly some evolutionary development to facilitate its role as a predator.

  “What do you su
ggest we do?” Alex asked, the fear apparent in his voice.

  “I don’t know, son. Right now I suggest we stay absolutely still and see what its next move is.”

  “I don’t think I could move if I tried,” Alex whispered.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here.”

  Wyatt looked back at the animal. The camera was now showing something on his visor. A pale blue smudge corresponding in position to the shovel-like plate at the tip of the tail. The animal was excreting a cool, clear substance onto this flattened segment.

  “Look,” Alex said, pointing toward the creature. “We’ve really got it worried, It’s shitting itself.” He laughed.

  “Alex! Your visor!” Wyatt shouted, but it was too late.

  Whether it was the motion of his arm that attracted the animal’s attention, Wyatt could not tell, but the creature turned to Alex and with a lightning quick flick of its tail, launched the clear amorphous mass at him.

  Alex was spinning. Something had hit him hard in the face and the force had knocked him off his feet. He landed heavily in the cane. He was dazed and the pain in his back was dulled by his lack of awareness. The fall had winded him and he gasped for a breath. But he could not breathe! A cold mass clung to his face, blocking his airways.

  Panicked, he tried to pull it off, but his hands sunk into the sticky conglomeration. As he tried to pull them away, he found they too were stuck fast. He tried to shout for help but he couldn’t open his mouth. He could feel himself getting weaker, struggling less. Quickly, he slipped into unconsciousness.

  As soon as Alex had been attacked, Kit had burst out of the cane to the animal’s rear right flank, his gun blazing.

  “No!” Wyatt screamed and instantly Kit had stopped firing, although not by choice. His weapon had jammed and he was cursing it, trying to clear the firing chamber to renew his attack.