The Leagacy of Heorot

by Larry Niven

  "Just like Godzilla. Oxygen destroyer—"

  Andy laughed. "Always wondered why they had that film aboard Geographic. This stuff isn't magic, but it's pretty nasty. Homemade, too."

  "So was ‘foo-foo gas.'"

  "What the hell was that?"

  "Gasoline and old-fashioned granular laundry detergent. Big factor in the 1995 Argentine revolution."

  "Viva la revolución." Andy grinned.

  "Stealing my lines, compadre?" Carlos joined them. His facial scar was sealed tight under a waterproof astringent salve.

  "You'll get your royalty payment." Andy breathed deeply. "You guys ready?" Cadmann and Carlos nodded. "Then let's do it."

  Carlos held the spear gun at the ready this time, while Cadmann worked the tip of his knife into the plastic unit of human blood Jerry had brought from the clinic.

  The pouch was rubbery-firm for a moment, then, as its skin was pierced, it collapsed. Its contents spilled into the river upstream from the cave. The blood streamed through the lamplight in dark tendrils, then was sucked into the cave and vanished.

  If it worked, the thing would come streaking out of the cave and into the net. And Cadmann didn't care if the effect was like pushing a pound of Cheddar through a cheese grater.

  Carlos dimmed his light. Together they waited.

  And waited, clinging to anchor spikes. Cadmann listened to the hiss of the river and the steady sigh of his own exhalations as he pushed them into the re-breather.

  And waited.

  Nothing.

  After ten minutes, they surfaced. Cadmann spit out his mouthpiece as he climbed up, and swore savagely.

  Zack helped Carlos past a slippery patch. "Let's go to plan two."

  Andy was manning the pump, awaiting a hand signal from Zack before he sent the explosive liquid flowing into the ground.

  "If it's in there," he said with obvious satisfaction, "this is going to make it very unhappy."

  Cadmann nodded and found a comfortable place to sit. He was suddenly aware of fatigue and cramped muscles. Somewhere someone was cooking, and the fragrance of lamb stew with fresh vegetables was suddenly overwhelming.

  Carlos appeared, holding two heaping bowls.

  "They should give medals for this, Martinez."

  "By the time the paperwork goes through, we'll both be dead and gone."

  "Too true."

  The stew was thickened with leftover Year Day rice, and utterly delicious. Cadmann leaned back against a rock, listening to the useful bustle around him, warmed by the food and the nearness of his friend.

  The clouds shrouded the stars. The twin moons must have already risen, but another two or three hours would pass before they were visible this low in the gorge.

  All there was now was the steady gurgle of the water and the human sounds around them. For some reason that he couldn't name, Cadmann felt a sudden, strong urge to see the stars, the moons.

  Why?

  Because you're going down there tonight.

  "What are you thinking about, Cadmann?"

  "Mary Ann." His teeth wrestled with an undercooked, mildly seasoned portion of lamb. It resisted for a moment, then his teeth found the grain.

  "I'm hoping she's not worried."

  "Sí. I was thinking of Bobbi. I hope she's well, out of surgery, and not worrying about me. It is not good for las palomitas to worry."

  "Especially when there's nothing to worry about."

  "Precisely."

  They turned to face each other, and Cadmann managed to hold his bland expression for about five seconds before both gave in to a wave of grim laughter.

  "Clear the holes!" Andy shouted, and the hose was pulled from the ground, the pumps and barrels wheeled away toward the rock wall.

  A wire was run down the pipes and its end clipped into a detonation switch. Andy came over to sit with Cadmann and Carlos, twenty meters from the hole.

  "You ready for this?"

  "If you're going to collapse this whole shore area, the least you can do is give us time to swim for it."

  "Naw. We've got at least eight meters of rock under us. We've already identified enough outlets to release the pressure. Fireworks no. Earthquakes yes. Ready?"

  "As we'll ever be."

  He switched on his radio. "Two and three?"

  "Standing ready."

  "Good news. On zero. Three, two, one—"

  Cadmann squinted as Andy said "zero!" sharply, and twisted the detonator toggle. There was a dull thud that shook the rock beneath them, and a jet of flame-tinged smoke erupted from the hole.

  There was a second, more violent tremor, and a tickle of panic shot up Cadmann's spine. Then silence except for a steady hissing sound and a jet of grayish smoke from the hole. Cadmann sneezed against a horrid chemical smell.

  Andy got to his feet. "If it's down there, it should be very dead," he said.

  Shoulds were going to get them all killed.

  "How long before we can go down to check?"

  "How quick can you get wet?"

  "Got it. Zack?"

  There was no reply, and he raised his voice. "Zack?"

  The camp administrator's voice came in over the radio. "Is that

  Cadmann bellowing for me, or has one of our elephants gone into rut?"

  "We haven't hatched any elephants yet."

  "Then put Cadmann on."

  The smoke streaming from the ground was taking on a darker color. Got you... I hope. "Zack, Cad here. I need those dozen men you promised me."

  "You'll have them. You're sure you have to go in, Cad? It's probably dead." Zack hesitated. "No, dammit, ‘probably' isn't going to help me sleep any better. We'll Skeeter in the last two from camp. Take about twenty minutes."

  "Twenty minutes," Carlos mused. "Time for a short nap or a long prayer. Or another bowl of stew. Come on."

  "Aren't you worried about cramps?"

  "Nah. I've been through menopause."

  Cadmann stood, shaking the stiffness from his knees. "You're a very sick man, Carlos. Probably your most endearing trait."

  Chapter 19

  GRENDEL'S MOTHER

  Beowulf spoke:

  "Let your sorrow end! It is better for us all to avenge our friends, not mourn then forever. I promise you—she shall have no shelter, no hole to hide, no towering tree, no deep bottom of a lake where her sins may hide."

  BEOWULF

  The water was dark and cool, shallow now and calmer than the rushing currents of the Miskatonic behind them. Cadmann's head broke the surface and he held his handlamp up. Its beam probed the blackness as he climbed out onto the limestone gallery.

  Carlos surged out of the water, and their combined beams gave Cadmann a grasp of the dimensions of the chamber. The roof was only a meter above his head and was dappled with some kind of webbed moss. Something far to the left gave off a faintly purplish luminescence. Although there was no smoke in the air, it had to be rich with nerve poison. He didn't dare remove his mask.

  The chamber was too small to hide anything much larger than a rat; the torchlight splashed bright and hard against the farthest wall. Shallow pools stood beneath embryonic stalactites. A slow, steady drip of water raised echoes everywhere.

  The rest of the men were out of the water now, and Cadmann adjusted his throat mike.

  "All right. Anyone see anything? Jerry?"

  "Not a thing. I think it went deeper back."

  "Agreed."

  A slick, rounded hump of rock was the next barrier. Cadmann clambered to the top and played his torch down into the darkness.

  "Andy!"

  The engineer responded with a hand-held scanning unit. He clambered up to the top of the rock and perched there. Together they scanned the dark water.

  "Nothing for at least twenty meters. Just rock and wet. Do we go for it?"

  "You got anything better to do?"

  "Not a thing."

  Cadmann, Andy and Carlos hammered pitons into the rock, then attached cables and ropes and cli
mbed cautiously down the side into a lower body of water.

  The gloom was absolute, as if no ray of light had penetrated this deeply since the Miskatonic first cut this chamber from the rock.

  Tiny blind things moved sluggishly aside as he swam through the murk. Some wriggled like eels, and others scuttled along the bottom of the pool like crabs. They groped through the dark, trying to avoid him, gliding through his torchlight as if totally unaware of it.

  No sound but the faint re-breather hiss in his ears, no natural light at all now. Just eleven men and two sterile women swimming silently through the murk. And we've all made our deposits in the sperm bank.

  The rock walls began to close in from the sides, and Cadmann bumped against first one and then the other as his finned feet flailed for balance before he found the right path.

  "Andy," he croaked into his throat mike. He suddenly remembered the first time he had tried to use a mouthpiece and a throat mike at the same time: he had swallowed about two cups of Barrier Reef brine. "How far did you say these caves extend?"

  "I didn't. All we can do is search for an hour, hope that we can find our target. ‘Target.' Sounds like I expect it to be standing still, doesn't it? Anyway, then we make our way back out." Each of the thirteen members of the team carried two additional re-breather cartridges in their bulky backpacks.

  That gave them a total of two hours—but Cadmann had no interest in letting things get down to the last few seconds. Fifty minutes in, fifty out. Twenty-minute margin for error.

  If they couldn't find the corpse, they had to assume that the creature was still alive, and proceed from there. That meant traps, a doubled guard and a continuously activated minefield around the camp. And constant worry until we know it's dead.

  The walls widened out again. Cadmann surfaced cautiously. He held the handlamp up to shine the beam around in the smoke-filled chamber.

  There was another mild splash beside him, and Jerry surfaced, spear gun at the ready.

  "Peaceful in here."

  "But not silent. Hear that?"

  Cadmann was about to ask. What?, then heard the distant gurgle.

  The other twelve were up now. Their lamp beams pinked the darkness and smoke, running pale disks across bare cave walls.

  "Let's go with the current for a while."

  Their flippers barely moved as they let the current carry them toward the exit. Half the team watched underwater. The others stayed at the surface, with only their heads and lamps above the oily water. They swam in a V formation, each close enough to see two others. Sometimes the swirling smoke parted to show stalactites lancing down at them like yellowed fangs.

  The current grew stronger. Cadmann surfaced. "Louder, I think."

  "Rog," Andy answered.

  "Stay together and head toward the shore!" Cadmann's arms and legs lashed powerfully at the water. Most of the others were right behind him. They were holding steady. He heard their regular breathing in his earphones.

  Then a sudden anguished cry, and he saw someone disappear over the lip of a falls. Moments later Cadmann heard the splash.

  "Who was that?"

  A short pause, and then, "Kokubun, here. Wow! What a ride! Safe—only about a dozen meters. But it's lonely in here."

  "Could you climb out. Mits?"

  "No sweat. Come on down."

  Cadmann considered for a moment. "All right. By twos."

  His men swam toward the lip of the waterfall. A pair of snaggled, broken rocks divided the water flow, like the grinning mouth of a jack-o'-lantern as seen by the glare of the torches. The first two men tumbled down. There was silence for a moment, then laughter. "Piece of cake," one shouted.

  Cadmann played his light behind him through the outer chamber. No disturbance, no movement. The yellowish smoke still swirled, but it was noticeably lighter even in the few minutes he had been there.

  "Go by twos." Finally only Cadmann and Carlos were left, and together they swam for the lip. The pull of the current was strong, but not impossible to fight near the shoreline. When Cadmann let himself go there was a momentary sensation of weightlessness, then a ramp of water-polished stone to reach up from beneath them, and he slid the rest of the way into the water.

  It took all of his discipline to restrain a whoop.

  "Well." He shook his head, grinning under his mask. "That was refreshing. What have we here?"

  The smoke was even deeper, and it looked sulphurous. The water was a little warmer than in the antechamber. Their lamp beams ate through the smoke to the blackened ceiling. Patches of steaming scum still floated on the water. It looked like something out of the inferno.

  "If it was in here," Andy said positively, "it's dead now."

  "I'll go with that." A grainy column of light stabbed out. The chamber was smaller than Cadmann had thought, and it was empty. His flash showed three jaggedly framed black exits.

  "Now what. Coach?" Jerry asked.

  "It was your soup. What do you think?"

  "I think there was more than enough."

  "Yeah. We don't have any real choices, do we? Divide into three teams and look into each of those exits. How is everyone fixed? Anyone need to change yet?"

  There was a quick chorus of negatives, and Cadmann checked his own supply. Still almost a third left on his first cartridge. Good enough.

  Jerry headed one team, Carlos another, and Cadmann took the third.

  There was something about that middle tunnel...

  "If the tunnels split again, that's it. Wait at the junction and signal. Under no circumstances divide the team, do you understand? When you're ten minutes into the second cartridge, turn around and start making your way back. If the radios start giving out, turn around and head back to this chamber. We don't want any heroes. If you spot the corpse, call for the rest of us. All right. Be safe."

  Jerry and Andy swam with slow, even strokes. The engineer was rather clumsy on the land, but in the water his extra girth was less of a liability. A trail of tiny silvery bubbles escaping from Andy's re-breather reflected in Jerry's lamp beam.

  Behind them, the other members of their team kept pace.

  Something brushed Jerry, and he nervously followed it with the light.

  It was almost a meter long, and looked more like a snake than a fish.

  "I'm surprised to see anything alive down here," Andy said.

  "Water breather," Jerry answered. "It's probably blind. Even in the deepest caves on Earth, you can find blind salamanders and insects."

  When this is over, I'm coming back with a net and a sample case, he promised himself.

  "Think it's dead?"

  "Sure. We still have to know."

  "Gotcha. I'm checking topside."

  Andy headed up toward the surface, and by Jerry's light it was as if the man disappeared above the shoulders. "We're through into another chamber. The air looks clear."

  "Don't take off your mask. Not all of the fumes are going to be visible."

  "No problem."

  Jerry surfaced next to him, shone his light around in the cave. This chamber was a little larger than the last, but still not more than thirty meters long. He directed his light straight up, and Andy whistled.

  Directly above, the ceiling opened in a circular orifice about three meters across. "Will you look at this pothole?"

  "What's that?"

  "A dry chimney, in spelunking terms. Vertical channels formed by water flow. Water dried up, so we don't call it a chimney anymore. Look over there." To the left were a series of rounded steps, as flat as fish scales, each a half-dozen meters across, like a badly skewed stack of silver dollars or a stage for a Vegas musical.

  "Called ‘gours.' Formed as carbonate is precipitated from turbulent water. Miskatonic must have been higher... more likely, it gets higher later in the year. Come on." Andy waved his light towards a widely arched opening. "I want to take a look back in the shadows. It might have crawled up there to die."

  "Or get well."

  "C
ome on, Jerry. No confidence in your soup? Hell, that stuff would have killed a dozen monsters."

  Jerry followed Andy's lead. The side chamber was larger than the main cave they'd been in. Onyx and sparkling rocks glittered in the light of his flash. It was almost peaceful down here, and Jerry brought himself up short: that kind of thinking could easily get them both killed.

  Another of the blind fish brushed past him. This one's eyes were pasty white, staring lifelessly in a broad face. Its mouth was crowded with needlelike teeth, and it nosed in for an experimental nip.

  He knocked it away with the tip of his speargun.

  "Looks like a dead end," Andy said. "I'll check out the far side." He kicked his bulky frame through the murk with surprising grace.

  Andy went up, and up. He said, "Hey—"

  And then his entire body just levitated from the water, whipped out as if vacuumed up with a suction pump.

  What? Had he climbed out? Or pulled himself out?

  "Andy?"

  Andy's body smashed down into the water almost atop Jerry. Just his body: the head was gone. Black clouds jetted from the raggedly torn stump on his neck. They fogged the light. Hordes of blind fish streaked into the cloud, tussling and snapping at each other.

  Jerry's chest froze, and he backpedaled frantically. There would come a lethal moment of water pressure, the single instant of warning before horror swooped out of the cloud of blood. In that instant he might have to trigger the spear gun into its grinning, gaping mouth...

  Then he was through, into the other chamber. He scrambled backward up over the gours, the grooved stone surface scraping at his hands and legs.

  His voice was a squeak into the throat mike. "Danger. Mayday! This is Jerry. I... we found it. Andy is dead. Repeat, Andy is dead. Converge on left tunnel at once. Repeat. We have located animal. It is alive and deadly."

  Arnie Donovan and Jill Ralston joined him at the water's edge.

  Together the three of them backed to the wall, spear guns at the ready.

  Shit. He had seen those things kill before, but this... what in the world? Why had it killed Andy? And then thrown the body back almost disdainfully?