“But I thought you said you were going to put a stop to this business with the Nationalists,” said the planter.
“I said the Solar Guard would, Sinclair.”
“Oh, yes,” mumbled Sinclair, “the Solar Guard. Of course.”
Connel got up abruptly. “I would appreciate it if you would look after our ship, though,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll be longer than a week. Shouldn’t be hard to track a tyrannosaurus, especially if it’s wounded.”
“I suppose you have all the equipment you need,” said Sinclair.
“Yes, thank you,” replied Connel. Then, thanking Mrs. Hill for the refreshments, the burly spaceman and the three cadets said good-by and left the house.
An hour later, ready to strike off into the jungle, the Solar Guard officer took four of the latest model shock rifles out of the arms locker of the Polaris and gave one to each boy with extra ammunition. “Never go after a giant with a popgun,” he said. “It’s a wonder you didn’t kill yourselves with those old blasters you used, let alone kill a tyranno.”
The three cadets examined the rifles closely and with enthusiasm.
“These are the latest Solar Guard issue,” said Connel. “When you pull that trigger, you release a force three times greater than anything put into a rifle before.”
Then, checking the Polaris and cutting all power, Connel removed the master switch and hid it. “That’s so no one will get any bright ideas while we’re gone,” he explained as the boys watched curiously.
“You think someone might try to steal her, sir?” asked Tom.
“You never can tell, Corbett,” answered Connel noncommittally.
Once again the three boys moved across the clearing toward the jungle wall. Astro took the lead as before, followed by Roger and Tom, and Connel brought up the rear. They moved directly to the spot where they had last seen the tyrannosaurus, found the trampled underbrush and massive tracks, and moved purposefully into the dank, suffocating green world.
The trail was plain to see. Where the boys once had to hack their way through the thick underbrush, the monster had created a path for them. The three cadets felt better about being back in the jungle with more reliable equipment and joked about what they would do to the tyrannosaurus when they saw it again.
“I thought you were supposed to be the home-grown Venusian hick that could manage in the jungle like that fairy-tale character, Tarzan,” Roger teased Astro.
“Listen, you sleepwalking space Romeo,” growled Astro, “I know more about this jungle than you could learn in ten years. And I’m not foolish enough to battle with a tyranno with the odds on his side. I ran for a good reason!”
“Boy, did you run!” taunted Roger. “You were as fast as the Polaris on emergency thrust!”
“Knock off that rocket wash!” roared Connel. “The Nationalists might have security patrols in this area. They could hear you talking and blast you before you could bat an eyelash! Now keep quiet and stay alert!”
The three cadets quieted down after that, walking carefully, stepping around dead brush that might betray their presence. After working their way along the tyrannosaurus’s trail for several hours, Connel called a halt, and after a quick look at his compass, motioned for them to cut away from the monster’s tracks.
“We’ll start working around in a circle,” he said. “One day east, one south, west, and north. Then we’ll move in closer to the heart of the circle, and repeat the same procedure. That should cover a lot of ground in eight days. If anything’s moving around out here, besides what should be here, we’ll find it. From now on, we’ll have a scout. Astro, you know the jungle, you take the point, about five hundred yards ahead. If you see anything, signs of a patrol or any danger from the jungle, fall back and report. Don’t try to do anything yourself. Four guns in a good position are better than one popping off by itself.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Astro. With a quick nod to Tom and Roger, he moved off through the jungle. In ten feet he was invisible. In thirty seconds his footsteps were lost in the thousands of jungle sounds around them.
“I’ll take the lead now,” said Connel. “Corbett, you bring up the rear. All right, move out!”
From above, in the leafy roof covering the jungle; from the side, in the thick tangle of vines; and from below, in the thorny underbrush, the eyes of living things, jungle things, followed the movements of the three spacemen, perhaps wondering if these new beasts were a threat to their lives.
CHAPTER 10
“Hal-loo-ooo!”
Astro’s voice boomed out over the tops of the trees, where the birds fluttered in sudden fright. It echoed through the darkness around him, where smaller creatures crawled and slithered into the protection of their holes. The voice of the big cadet was loud, but it was not loud enough for his mates to hear.
Astro was lost.
He couldn’t understand how it had happened. Over and over during the past six hours he had retraced his steps mentally, trying to visualize the trail, trying to locate the telltale marks he had made with his jungle knife, and so find Major Connel, Tom, and Roger. It was dark now and the big cadet had to face the dangerous jungle alone. He laughed ironically. Connel had given him the point because he knew the jungle! And now he was lost.
Astro was a little frightened too. It was his frank realization of trouble that made him afraid. He knew what was in the jungle, and though he had been there alone before, he had never been in it as deeply as this, nor had he ever been lost in the nightmarish place after sundown.
While he was desperately anxious to find his unit mates, he had not fired his rifle. The threat of exposing his position to a possible Nationalist patrol prevented him from signaling with the blaster or even from building a fire. During the last hours of the day, when the suspicion that he was lost became a concrete fact, the big cadet had been reluctant even to yell. Now, with pitch-black night closing around him, he dared to call, hoping it would be heard and recognized by his friends, or if not, considered the howl of a jungle beast by an enemy patrol should one be near.
He stood with his back against the rough bark of a teakwood tree to protect his rear and to face out toward the pitch-black night. More than once the big cadet felt the sudden ripple of a crawling thing moving around him, across his toes or down the tree trunk. There was a sudden thrashing in the underbrush near by and he brought the shock rifle up quickly, ears tuned for the growl, or scream, or hiss of an attacking beast.
The luminous dial of his watch showed it to be three thirty in the morning, two and a half hours to go before the sun would drive the fearful darkness away. He had been calling every five minutes. And every time he shouted, the movements in the darkness around him increased.
“Hal-loo-ooo!”
He waited, turning his head from one side to the other, intent on the sounds that came from a distance; the answering call of the waddling ground bird that had confused him at first until he recognized it; the shrill scream of the tiny swamp hog; the distant chattering of the monkeylike creatures in the treetops. But there was no sound from a human throat.
Astro called again and again. The seconds dragged by into minutes, the minutes into an hour, and then two hours, and finally, as every muscle in his body ached from standing backed up to the tree all night and holding his rifle on alert, the gray murky dawn broke over the jungle and he began to see the green of the jungle around him. When the sun at last broke over the Venusian horizon, the night’s frost on the leaves and bushes danced and glittered like jewels.
He washed his face in a near-by pool, careful not to drink any of the water. He opened a can of synthetic food, and after eating his fill, cleared away the brush down to the naked black soil and banking it high on all sides he stretched full length on the ground. He dared not sleep. Hungry animals were moving about freely now. A paralo-ray gun and the rifle, both cocked and ready to fire, were held in his hands. He relaxed as completely as he could, idly watching the mother of a brood of the anthropoid
s scamper through the branches of the trees overhead, bringing her squalling young their breakfast. An hour later, refreshed, he started through the jungle again, eyes open for signs of recent activity, human activity, for the big cadet wanted to return to his comrades.
Stopping occasionally to climb a tree, Astro searched the sky above the treetops for smoke that would mark a campsite. He felt that sure if there was any, he would find Roger, Tom, and Connel, since a Nationalist patrol wouldn’t advertise its presence in the jungle. But there were no smoke signs. The top of the jungle stretched green and still as far as he could see, steaming under the burning rays of the sun.
Astro knew that it would be impossible to spend another night like the first in the jungle, so after searching through the forest until three in the afternoon, he stopped, opened another can of synthetic food, and ate. He was used to being alone now. The first wave of fear had left him and he was beginning to remember things he knew as a young boy; jungle signs that warned him of dangers, the quick identification of the animal cries, and the knowledge of the habits of the jungle creatures.
After eating, he took his jungle knife and hacked at a long, tough vine, yanking it down from its lofty tangle. He started weaving it into a tight oblong basket and two hours later, just before the sun dropped into the jungle for the night, he was finished. He had a seven-foot bag woven tightly and pulled together with a small opening at one end. Just before the sky darkened, the big cadet crawled into this makeshift sleeping bag, pulled the opening closed with a tight draw cord, and in thirty seconds was asleep. Nothing would be able to bite through the tough vine matting, and the chances of a larger beast accidentally stepping on him were small. Nevertheless, Astro had pulled the bag close to a huge tree and placed it deep between the swollen roots.
He awoke with a start. The ground was shaking violently. He was sweating profusely and judged that it must be late in the morning with the sun beating directly on him. Carefully he opened the end of the makeshift sleeping bag and peered out. He gasped and reached for his shock rifle, bringing it up into firing position. The sight that confronted him was at once horrifying and fascinating. A hundred yards away, a giant snake, easily a hundred feet long and five feet thick, was wrapped around a raging tyrannosaurus. The monsters were in a fight to death. Astro shuddered and pulled back into the bag, keeping the blaster aimed at the two struggling beasts.
The big cadet deduced that the snake must have been surprised in its feeding by the tyrannosaurus, and was trying to defend itself. There wasn’t a living thing in the jungle that would deliberately attack a tyrannosaurus. Only man, with his intelligence and deadly weapons, could win over the brute force and cunning of the jungle giant. And even that had failed with this monster. Astro quickly saw it was the same beast that had chased the three cadets out of the jungle!
With three coils wrapped around the tyrannosaurus’s body, the snake was trying to wrap a fourth around its neck and strangle it, but the monster was too wily. Rearing back, it suddenly fell to the ground, its weight crushing the three coils around its middle. The snake jerked spasmodically, stunned, as the tyrannosaurus scrambled up again. The ground trembled and branches were ripped from near-by trees. All around the jungle had been leveled. Everything fell before the thrashing monsters.
Recovering, the snake’s head darted in again, trying to circle the tyrannosaurus’s head and complete the last and fatal coil, but the giant beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping, and the snake drew back. Suddenly its tail lashed out and circled the left legs of the tyrannosaurus. Astro could see the beast straining against the sudden pressure, at the same time alert for the swooping head of the snake. The pressure on the leg was too great, and the beast fell to the ground, giving the snake a momentary advantage. Its head darted in again, but the tyrannosaurus drew its head into its narrow shoulders, then shot out again as the snake missed. Astro saw the snake quiver and jerk back as the tyrannosaurus clamped its jaws closed and bit a chunk out of the green, scaly body.
The snake had enough. It wanted to get away, to slip to the top of the tallest tree in the forest, out of reach of the tyrannosaurus, and wait for the wound to heal or for death to come. It unwound in a maddened convulsive movement and slithered toward the tree where Astro lay. But the monster was after it, immediately grabbing it by the tail and jerking it back. The snake was forced to turn and fight back.
Astro knew that if the snake could get away it would head for the teakwood above his head, the highest tree around, and the tyrannosaurus would stamp the ground around its base into powder. He had to move!
A hundred feet to the left was a wild thicket of ground thorns, their needlelike tips bristling. Even the snake would stay away from them. It was his only chance should the snake get loose from the tyrannosaurus again. Making up his mind quickly, the cadet opened the end of the sleeping bag and shoved his weapons out before him. Then hugging the ground, he dashed across the clearing. This gave the tyrannosaurus its final advantage. The snake pulled back, momentarily attracted by Astro’s move, and the tyrannosaurus struck, catching the snake just behind the head in a grip of death.
The thorns ripped at Astro’s tight-fitting jungle dress, tearing into his flesh as he dove into the thicket. But once inside the cadet lay still, pointing his rifle at the tyrannosaurus who was methodically finishing off the giant snake. In a few seconds the snake was dead and the tyrannosaurus began to feast.
Astro stayed in the thicket, watching the monster devour nearly all of the dead reptile foe and then rise up and move off through the jungle. Astro knew that in no time the scavengers of the jungle would be swarming over the remains of the snake. Once again he had to move.
Getting out of the thicket was painful. From every direction the thorns jabbed at him, and but for the toughness of his jungle suit, Astro would have been ripped to shreds. After easing his way back into the clearing, the cadet pulled out the remains of his jungle pack. He then saw that his suit was torn to ribbons, and the many slashes on his chest and arms were bleeding profusely. The scent of the blood would attract the carnivorous creatures, so he stripped off the bloody jungle suit, dropping it back in the thicket, and hurried away. A short time later he came to a water hole where he sponged himself off and applied medication from his emergency kit to the scratches. Finished, he took stock. The night’s sleep had refreshed him, and except for the loss of his protective clothing, he was in good shape. He shouldered the pack, strapped the paralo-ray gun to his hips, and gripping the rifle tightly, he moved off through the jungle once more. He decided to follow the tyrannosaurus. The beast would leave a path for him, saving him the effort of hacking his way through the vines and creepers, and should an enemy patrol be out, it would stay away from the tyrannosaurus. Finally, he knew Tom, Roger, and Connel would go after the beast if they saw it.
The sun shone down on the half-naked giant moving through the jungle, a new white-skinned animal who was braver than the rest, a creature who dared to trail the king of the jungle.
* * * *
“It’s all my fault!” said Connel disgustedly. “I should have been able to read his trail signs.”
Tom did not answer. He pulled the straps of his jungle pack tighter and slung it over his shoulder. Roger stood to one side, watching Major Connel. Both boys sensed what was coming.
“Well, this is the last day we can spend searching for him,” said Connel. “We’ve already lost two days.”
Roger glanced at Tom and said casually, “It wouldn’t hurt to keep our eyes open for signs of him, would it, sir?”
“Now listen, boys,” said Connel firmly, “I know how you feel about Astro. I have to admit I have a liking for the lad myself. But we’ve been sent out here to locate the base of operations of the Nationalists. The best way to do that is to work around the jungle in a given area. We haven’t done that so far. We’ve put all our time and effort into a random search for Astro. We can’t signal him, build a fire, shoot off a blaster—or use any of the simple communicati
on devices. We have to work under cover, for fear of giving away our presence here in the jungle.” He slung his gear over his shoulder and added, “We’ll continue our search for Astro until noon and then we simply will have to abandon it. And stop worrying about him. He’s a big strong lad and he’s been in this jungle alone before. I have every confidence that he can make his way back to Sinclair’s plantation safely.”
The Solar Guard officer paused and looked at the two downcast cadets before him. “None of that sulking business!” he growled. “You’re cadets on an urgent mission. Now move out. I’ll take the point first and you bring up the rear, Corbett.” Without another word, the burly spaceman turned and moved off through the jungle.
Roger hung back to talk to Tom. “What do you think, Tom?”
Tom shook his head before answering. “He’s right, Roger. We’re on a job. It’s the same here in the jungle as it is in space. We know that something is liable to happen to any one of us at any time. And the mission always comes first.”
Roger nodded. “Sure, that’s the way it is in the book. But this is real. That big hick might be hurt—or trapped. Maybe he needs our help!”
“I know how you feel, Roger,” replied Tom. “I want to take off and hunt for Astro myself, but Connel needs us. Don’t forget that bunch of guys in uniforms back at Sinclair’s. Commander Walters and the others don’t hold conferences like that one back in Venusport for the fun of it. This is serious.”
Roger shrugged and started off after Connel, Tom following slowly behind. Their march through the jungle was made in silence, each hoping for a miracle. But as the sun grew higher and the deadline hour of noon approached, they steeled themselves to the fact that they might never see the Venusian cadet again. A short time later, when Tom was taking his turn at cutting the trail through the brush, he broke through into a clearing. He stopped and called out, “Major! Roger! Quick!”
The Tom Corbett Space Cadet Megapack: 10 Classic Young Adult Sci-Fi Novels Page 77