by Andre Norton
Was this the same machine that had left the marks below the plateau? It was likely, only he was not to be sidetracked any longer to find out.
“Calling Thorson! Calling Kamil!” The signal was so sharp from his com that he started. “Return to LB, return to LB—at once!”
It was unlike Rip to be so formal—unless some emergency warranted that formality as a warning. The antline? Or, thought Dane, turning back on his trail at a steady trot and looking down at the crawler as he passed, had they two-legged enemies as well? Could those who had blasted the prospectors have turned their attention now on the spacecraft? Was Rip in such a position that he could not warn them save through his choice of words?
The brach made no sound. If the alien sensed trouble ahead as he had been able to sense the dragon’s actions, he was not saying so. Suddenly another thought crossed Dane’s mind, and it was almost as startling as that summons from the ship because it presented what was an impossibility as far as he knew. When they had found the brachs at bay before the antline, they had been inside the force field, a barrier that had kept the monster uneasy and unwilling to make an attack. And the dragons had been gone, also through that field. It had been a weak one, yes, but Ali had tested it, and it had worked. Then how had both species managed to pierce it?
“When the little one”—Dane spoke into the translator—“found the cage, there was a protection around it. Yet he went in, opened the door for the dragons—” Could he make the brach understand, or what had happened to the field? Had the aliens turned it off and then on again? They could turn it off if they had understood it. But to turn it on again from the inside was impossible.
The answer came hesitatingly as if the brach was also finding it difficult to explain a process he had taken for granted or else had not the proper vocabulary to make himself understood. “We think—if a thing is not alive, we can think what we wish to do, and it does that—”
Dane shook his head. If the brach meant what he said—that they had some control over the inanimate, some esper control—But the proof was that they had gone through the defense field. And the dragons, but it couldn’t be that the dragons could also do that?
“The dragons, how did they get through the protection?”
“The little one—when they hurt him—he opened it for them. They wished to go, so they used it,” the brach replied with prompt logic.
Well, it all fitted, if you were willing to accept the initial proposition that the brachs could think an open door through a force field. There was more and more to these mutated animals—no, they were not animals—these people (you must give them their proper status no matter what they had been on Xecho) than one could understand. What excitement they were going to cause when the scientists and lab techs learned about them.
Dane saw Ali coming on the run and slowed to a stop until the other joined him.
“Listen.” Dane pushed the brach question to the back of his mind as he quickly gave Kamil the story of the derelict crawler and what it contained.
“So you think Rip may have visitors?” Ali caught him up swiftly. “All right, we go in slowly and carefully.”
Both of them had been rubbing their mikes with a gloved thumb as they talked, so that none of what they said could be picked up by a listener. Now Dane was glad to pull down his visor against the frosty chill. Though there was a sun in the sky, it gave little warmth even here in the open, and as they passed into the shade of the wood again, even that illusion of light and heat was lost.
Approach the LB with caution they did. But when they saw what stood a little beyond it in the open, they were less suspicious. There was no mistaking the scout flitter of the Queen, Dane felt a warm wash of relief. So Jellico had sent for them—maybe they were now on the verge of solving the whole tangle. Reassured, they trotted on to the hatch.
Rip was inside, and Craig Tau, but the third man was not the captain as Dane expected, nor any member of the Queen’s crew. And Rip’s expressionless face, as well as Tau’s stiff stance, was warning that they were not at the end of their troubles.
The stranger was of Terran stock but somewhat shorter than the crewmen, wide of shoulder and long of arm, both of which were accented by the bulk of the fur upper garment that he had unsealed but not taken off. Underneath he wore a green tunic of a uniform with a badge on the breast consisting of two silver leaves springing from a single stem.
“Ranger Meshler, Dane Thorson, acting cargo master, Ali Kamil, assistant engineer.” Medic Tau made the formal introduction and added an explanation for his crewmates. “Ranger Meshler is now in charge in this district.”
Dane moved. He might not be right in his sum-up of the present situation, but one of the lessons of infighting that most free traders knew was to get an enemy or possible enemy off balance, to deliver the first blow and make it as unexpected a one as possible. “If you represent the law here, I have a murder, two murders, to report.”
He pulled out the ident strip from the crawler and the fragment of stone he had found caught in the plundered lock bin. “There is a crawler by the river, caught in the ice. I think it has been there for some time, but I don’t know enough of your planet conditions to guess how long. There are two men in the cabin—blast-burned. Their lock bin had been burned open, and this was caught in its door.” He put the stone on a shelf. “And this is the ident card from the control slot.” He laid the strip of metal next to the stone.
If he had planned to carry war into the enemy’s territory, he succeeded for a space, for Meshler was staring from him to the two exhibits and then back again.
“We have also to report”—Ali broke the short silence—“unless Shannon has already done it for us, the presence of a mutated antline—”
Meshler finally came to life. He was closed-faced now, all signs of surprise gone.
“It would seem”—his voice was as frosty as the air outside—”that you have been making a great many strange discoveries—very strange discoveries.” He spoke, Dane thought, as if he considered most not only improbable but also impossible, but at least they had proof, good solid proof of it all.
8.INVOLUNTARY FLIGHT
“What is the situation, sir?” Having done his best to throw the opposition off balance, disregarding the last comment from the ranger, Dane turned to Tau. He wanted to know just what they had to face.
It was Meshler who answered. “You are all under arrest!” He said that weightedly, as if the words disarmed them and made the odds of four to one wholly in favor of that one. “I am to escort you to Trewsport, where your case comes under Patrol surveillance—”
“And the charge?” Kamil had not moved from the hatch door. His one arm was behind him, and Dane thought he still had a hand on the latch. It was plain that Ali did not consider the odds in Meshler’s favor.
“Sabotage of shipment, interference with the mail, murder—” The ranger stated each charge as if he were a judge pronouncing sentence.
“Murder?” Ali looked surprised. “Whom did we murder?”
“Person unknown,” Tau drawled. His former rigidity had eased. He leaned against the wall, one hand on the edge of the hammock where the brachs sat in their nest of padding. “You met him dead.” He nodded to Dane. “He was wearing your face at the time—”
Now Meshler turned a sharp, measuring look at Dane, who, to aid him in identification, pushed back his hood. And for the second time the Terran saw a trace of surprise on the rather flat face of the ranger. Tau uttered a sound not far from a laugh.
“You see, Ranger Meshler, that our tale was the truth. And the rest we can prove, as well as showing you a man with the same features as that mask. We have the box that caused all the trouble, the mutated embryos, the brachs—Let your science techs test it all, and they will see we reported nothing but the truth.”
There was a wriggling against Dane’s shoulders. He had forgotten the brach in the pack. Now he loosened the straps and held the bag so that its occupant could climb out to join hi
s family in the hammock. Meshler viewed that without comment.
Now the ranger produced a tridee shot from an inner pocket. Holding it, he moved closer to the hammock that held the “people” from Xecho, looking from the picture of the brachs and back again several times.
“There are differences,” he commented.
“As we told you. You heard them, or rather her, talk,” Rip replied. There was a tightness in his voice that suggested the time before Ali and Dane’s arrival had not been pleasantly spent.
“And where is this mysterious box?” The ranger did not look to them but continued to study the brachs. He gave the impression of still being skeptical.
“We buried it, in its protective covering,” Dane replied. “Only it may not be the first such shipment to arrive here.”
Now he did have the full attention of Meshler. Those chill chips of ice that served the other for eyes fastened on him. “You have reason for believing so?”
Dane told him of the antline. Whether he was making any impression on Meshler, he could not tell, but at least the man listened without any outward sign of incredulity.
“You found its lair, you say? And it was under stunner influence when you last saw it?”
“We backtracked it to the lair.” Ali cut in. “And, from the marks, it was on its way back there when it left the cage. We didn’t trail it again.”
“No, you were after your other monsters, to cover up what you had introduced here.” Meshler had not softened. “And these monsters—where are they now?”
“We tracked them as far as the river,” Ali continued. “The brach said they had flown across, and we were hunting a way of getting over when we were recalled.”
Tau spoke then. “The brach said? How did it know?”
“He”—Dane unconsciously corrected the pronoun—“says they can sense emotions. That’s what led to the dragons’ escape in the first place. One of the brach kits “heard” their anger at being shut up in the cage and went to open that. They turned on the kit and then got away—”
He half expected the ranger to contradict that with scorn, but the man did not. He listened impassively, glancing now and then at the brachs.
“So we have a couple of monsters loose, besides this antline—”
“As well as two murdered men,” Dane broke in, “who were dead long before we planeted.”
“If they have been dead as long as you say,” the ranger replied, “they can await attention for a short space longer. What we have to deal with firstly are these ‘dragons’ of yours.” He put away the tridee and brought out a tube, which, at a slight squeeze, rolled out a map. Though it was in miniature, its points of references were so clearly marked it was easy to read.
“The lake.” Meshler pointed. “Your river drains from there?”
“We believe so,” Dane answered.
“And your dragons crossed it?” Slightly beyond the river line were marks of pale green. The ranger tapped those with fingertip.
“Cartl’s holding. If your dragons headed for that—” Another pinch of finger and the map snapped back into the tube. “It would be better that we locate them before they get that far. This—this creature can track them? You are sure of that?”
“He says he can. He took us to the river.” Dane moved; he had no intention of allowing the ranger to take the brach. After all, no matter what change had occurred, the alien was still part of the cargo for which Dane was responsible. But Meshler had not reached for the brach.
“You are under arrest.” He looked around, catching them one by one with his straight stare, as if challenging them to deny his authority. “If we wait for a search party from Trewsport, it may be too late. I have my duty. If Cartl’s holding is in danger, my first duty is there. But you loosed this danger; therefore, you have a duty also—”
“We have not denied that,” Tau returned. “We have done the best we could to insure that the port was not infected.”
“The best you could? With these dragons loose to attack a holding?”
“What I can’t understand,” Dane said slowly, his words aimed at Tau, “is how they can withstand the cold. They were let out in the very early morning. I expected to find them frozen. Reptiles cannot take cold—”
“Lathsmers”—Meshler corrected—“are not reptiles. And they are well adapted to cold. They are acclimated for Trewsworld winters before they are decanted at hatching.”
“But I tell you,” Dane said angrily, “these are not your lathsmers—but probably the million-year-back ancestors of them. They are certainly reptiles to look at!”
“We can’t know just what they are”—Tau corrected him—“until we have a chance to run them through a diagnostic lab. Their immunity to cold might well be a part of their conditioning the ray did not affect.”
“We have no time to argue about their nature!” Meshler stated firmly. “We hunt and find them, before they cause more trouble. First I beam in my report. You stay here.”
He shouldered past Ali and went out the hatch, slamming it behind him. Kamil spoke to Tau.
“What is going on?”
“We would all like to know a few details,” Tau answered wearily. “When we landed, there was already information out—we had come in under suspicious circumstances. Then, we had to report a death on board—”
“But how?” began Shannon.
“Just so, how?” Tau returned. “We had not had time to report. We answered with the truth, showed them the body. I gave the port doctor my conclusions. They wanted his papers. When we told them he carried yours and showed them that mask, they were, or pretended to be, incredulous. Said they didn’t think any such switch could be pulled without our knowing, that an imposture could not be maintained throughout the voyage, which is probably true. That being so, they logically went on to a new point, what would bring a man to stow away.”
“So you told them about the box,” Ali supplied.
“We had to at that point, since the lab people were yammering all over the place for their brachs—as well as the settlers for the embryos. We could have said one shipment was coming later but not both under the circumstances. Jellico has demanded a Board of Trade hearing. In the meantime, the Queen is impounded and the rest of the crew in custody. They sent this Meshler out to pick you up—with me to handle the brachs, since by trade law they have to have a medical officer for a live cargo.”
“I-S behind this, you think?” Rip demanded.
“I don’t believe so. There is still the problem of a big company doing a complicated plan to make trouble for one Free Trader. And it is not that we nudged them out of this mail contract. It had been Combine
property for years. No, I think we were just handy, and someone used us. Maybe the same thing might have happened to a Combine ship if it were still on mail run.”
“Craig”—Dane had been only half listening, his thoughts turning in another direction—“that dead man, could they have meant him to die? Was he expendable and that was why they didn’t care if he lived long enough to be taken for a stowaway?”
“Could be true. Only why—?”
“And why, and why, and why?” Rip threw up his hands in a gesture of scattering unanswerable questions to the four points of the compass.
But Ali had picked up the stone Dane had brought from the wrecked crawler. He turned it around, studying it.
“Trewsworld is strictly an Ag planet, isn’t it? Agriculture the only occupation?”
“That’s been its rating.”
“But dead prospectors in the bush, with a lock bin broken open? Where was this exactly?” Ali shot that question abruptly at Dane.
“Caught in under the melted door. I thought someone had swept out the contents in a big hurry and overlooked this sliver when it wedged fast.”
Rip looked over Ali’s shoulder at the stone. “Looks like ordinary rock to me.”
“Ah, but you aren’t a mineralogist, nor are any of us.” Ali weighed the rock in his hand. “I have a
distinct feeling that somehow an answer to all of this is hovering right under our noses, but we are just a little too dense to grasp its importance.”
He was still holding the rock when the hatch creaked open and Meshler was again with them.
“You”—he pointed to Shannon—“stay here. There will be a guard ship from the port to pick you up. And you, also.” This time his pointing finger singled out Ali. “But you and you, and this—this creature you say can sniff out the dragons of yours—will come with me. We take the flitter and pick up those things and do it quickly!”
For a moment it seemed that Shannon and Kamil might protest, but Dane saw them look to Tau, and though there was no change of expression on the medic’s face, Dane believed they had received some message not to interfere with Meshler’s arrangements.
For the second time Dane fitted the brach into the pack, the alien making no protest, as if he had been able to follow their conversation and knew the purpose of this second expedition. And neither did the ranger demand Dane turn over his stunner before they went out to the flitter.
“We go first to Cartl’s,” Meshler announced in his authoritative voice. He motioned Dane to the side seat by his own at the controls, the Terran settling the brach’s pack on his lap, while Tau had one of the rear seats.
Whatever else he might be, the ranger was an expert pilot. Perhaps flitter flight was the normal travel for one representing the law in this wide territory. He brought them up effortlessly, swung the nose of the craft to the southeast, and pushed the speed to high.
It seemed only seconds until they flashed over the river. Then there were billows of the fat-leaved trees under them again, almost as if the forest were another kind of water. The brach sat quietly on Dane’s lap, its head thrust well out of the coverings. The cabin was warm enough so none of them pulled up their hoods, and as that horned nose swung back and forth a little, Dane could almost believe that it quested for some scent.