by Rod Walker
We were careful. We had our sonic alarms ready on our wrists, and Charles led the way, dropping a pair of UV vision goggles over his eyes. The tromosaurs’ stealth ability worked in both natural light and in infrared, probably because most of Arborea’s animals could see into the infrared portions of the spectrum, but it was only partially effective in UV light.
The first pack of six tromosaurs came at us about two kilometers from the crash site. We activated our sonic alarms, and the tromosaurs hesitated long enough for us to start shooting. Tanner drilled two of them, and I got one. Mr. Royale and Charles accounted for the other three between them.
The next pack had nine tromosaurs, and that was a harder fight. We stood back to back, covering each other, and sending bursts of fire at the tromosaurs. The tromosaurs wavered, trying to decide to rush us or retreat, and Mr. Royale got two of them with bursts of full-auto. A third tromosaur almost got him, but I shot it through the head, so close that its blood spattered across my armor, and its carcass bounced off the ground about three inches in front of my boots, its mottled hide shifting through colors as it died.
“Good shot,” said Mr. Royale, lowering his Avenger. “That one almost bit my head off.”
“Thanks,” I said, scanning the shadowed trees for more tromosaurs.
“You know,” said Mr. Royale, “my accountant gave me all kinds of grief for the bribe I paid to keep you out of prison. I had no idea it would prove to be such an excellent investment.”
“Well, if you kept me out of prison, it’s only fair that I keep the tromosaurs from eating you,” I said. “Where did you learn to shoot? It’s obvious you’ve handled a gun before.”
“I served in the Security Ministry for a year when I was your age,” said Mr. Royale.
Tanner grunted. “Really? Only a year? What happened?”
Mr. Royale smiled. “I was drummed out for selling liquor on the side to Security Ministry officers. It would have been a more serious charge, but the commander of my department was very fond of wine from the orbital vineyards, and I found it for him cheap.” He tapped the stock of the Avenger. “Fortunately, some the skills I acquired during that year remain useful to this day.”
“Yes, business on the side,” said Tanner. “That how we ended up here.”
“Now, now, Winston,” said Mr. Royale. “The whole point of developing useful skills like yours is to hire them out to people like me.”
Tanner grunted, and we kept moving through the jungle. Two more tromosaur packs came after us in the space of the next three kilometers, but we managed to fight through them. As annoying as it had been to carry all those extra supplies and ammunition, I was glad that Charles had been such a martinet about it.
After killing the fourth tromosaur pack, we had to divert to avoid a tankstrider as the huge creature lumbered through the jungle, eating the foliage and fungus growing on the lower levels of the massive trees. The tankstrider wouldn’t attack us unless we provoked it, but it might not notice that we were there, and it was entirely possible that the huge animal would trample us without even realizing it. Pity we couldn’t convince the tromosaurs to go after it, but the tromosaurs would only attack wounded or dying tankstriders, and even then more often than not the tankstrider won the fight.
“Big fellows, aren’t they?” said Mr. Royale as the tankstrider lumbered off into the jungle. The ground vibrated a little with every step. “Pity we can’t just ride it back to Outpost Town.”
“That is inadvisable, Board Member Royale,” said Charles. “Do you see the moss and other fungi growing up the animal’s back? There are any number of parasitic herbivores that subsist upon them.”
Mr. Royale shrugged. “Herbivores aren’t a problem.”
“No,” said Tanner, pointing at a flying dark shape that flitted after the tankstrider, “it’s the things that eat the herbivores that are the problem. The tankstriders have their own little mobile ecosystem around them. It…”
The sound of the explosion cut him off.
My head snapped around, my Avenger coming up on reflex. I didn’t see anything unusual, but the sound of an explosion had been unmistakable… and in the distance, I saw the sudden glare of firelight. The noise was so loud that the departing tankstrider even paused for a second before it resumed its leisurely course in search of food.
“That,” I said, “sounded a lot like a quadcopter crash.”
“Yeah,” said Tanner, and he shared a look with Charles. “More of Valier’s games?”
“Most probably,” said Charles. “Best to go around it, I think, and continue to Outpost Town.”
Mr. Royale frowned. “There might be survivors.”
“They might also have been killed in the crash,” said Tanner, “and there are probably another group of hunters like Toulon and his goons coming for a landing right now.”
“It is also possible we will find allies,” said Mr. Royale. “Quite a few quads left on tours at the same time we did, probably so Valier could send out his first round of hunters. If the pilots and guides upon those quads are as thorough as Senior Guide Charles…”
“They better have been,” said Charles.
“Then they will also be armed,” said Mr. Royale. “We could recruit ourselves a militia, as it were.”
Tanner snorted. “Well, Spraycan, what do you think?”
I blinked. He didn’t often ask for my opinion.
“I think we should look for survivors,” I said. “And if more hunters return, we can help fight them off. If we do that, they’ll be more willing to help us.”
Tanner sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. And if Kayla knew I passed someone by who needed help, she’d never let me hear the end of it. All right. Charles, take point. Let’s check out the crash.”
We moved as fast as we did through the alien underbrush of the Arborean jungle, Charles taking the lead. I swept my eyes back and forth, seeking for any signs of tromosaurs or other predators. The crash would have scared them off, at least for now, but if there were wounded or dying or dead men near the wreckage, eventually the smell of blood would draw the predators. The glow of the fire got brighter, and I could smell the crash, a mixture of burning fuel and heated metal and scorched electronics…
Gunshots rang out.
Reflexes took over, and I threw myself to the ground, the others following suit. The sound of more gunshots rolled through the jungle, followed by the dull boom of something I thought was a bomb or a grenade or maybe another handheld rocket launcher like the one that Toulon’s bodyguard had used.
“Get up,” said Tanner, rising to his feet. “It’s still a distance off, and I don’t think it’s aimed at us.”
“A battle,” said Mr. Royale, grunting as he stood.
“Yeah,” said Tanner. “Looks like one of Valier’s hunters is encountering resistance.”
Charles frowned with disapproval. “Failure to respect the animals in a hunt is a cardinal error.”
“There is a reason that book called humans the most dangerous game,” said Mr. Royale.
“Looks like you were right about allies, Ian,” said Tanner. “Let’s go. Charles, keep us under cover if possible. And keep a lookout for tromosaurs. The gunfire and the smoke should keep them scared off, but I wouldn’t want to trust my life to that.”
I nodded and followed the others. Charles led us in a zigzag path, ducking from massive tree to massive tree while the light of the fire grew brighter and the sound of gunfire got louder. Then Charles ducked behind another tree, and I saw the fighting ahead.
One of Safari Company’s quadcopters had crashed hard into the ground ahead, digging up a deep furrow in the earth. Fires danced in the smashed quadcopter’s canopy, though it hadn’t exploded. About thirty yards from the wreck sat an intact Avionics AA-39 quadcopter, identical to the one that Toulon had used. A group of men had taken cover in the crash furrow, using it as an impromptu trench, sometimes rising slightly to fire off a few rounds. Six men in body armor crouched near th
e Avionics quadcopter, sending volleys of fire towards the furrow.
“I know him,” muttered Mr. Royale.
“Who?” said Tanner.
“The man leading those hunters,” said Mr. Royale. “His name is Philip Lysokos. He’s another billionaire. The Lysokos Company is based in the Silure star system, manufactures hyperdrives. He sells hyperdrives to half the governments and militaries in the Thousand Worlds.”
“Is there some sort of secret billionaire club?” I said. “Like they all got together one day and decided to go hunt their fellow man for sport?”
“Yeah, and Valier founded the club,” said Tanner. “I think we can take them. Ian, you recognize the guys in the furrow?”
“Maybe,” said Mr. Royale. “I’m not sure… but I think they’re wearing Security Ministry uniforms.”
I blinked, and then the memory came back. “That colonel who rode over on your ship… um, what was his name?”
“Colonel Cassius Argent,” said Mr. Royale. “I think those are his men.” He frowned. “If he knew anything about this and didn’t tell me, I’ll be disappointed in him.”
“Then he’ll owe you twice over,” said Tanner. “Once, for not telling you, and again when we save his life right now. Pick your targets.” Neither side in the gunfight had noticed us yet, and we took aim.
“Are we shooting to kill?” I said.
“Yes,” said Tanner, his voice hard.
I hesitated. I had never actually killed someone in cold blood. I mean, I had helped kill Toulon’s bodyguards, but that had been in the heat of the fight, and they had been trying to kill us. Still, Lysokos and his goons deserved it. Presumably, Lysokos had spent millions of credits for the right to hunt down and kill innocent people, and his bodyguards had gone along with it. Maybe they deserved to get killed. That, and I knew they would kill us if given a chance.
“Right,” I said.
“On three,” said Tanner, and he settled into a firing stance, aiming his Avenger. No one had noticed us. That was about to change.
Tanner finished counting off, and we started shooting.
It was almost ridiculously easy. Not that I’m complaining about that, mind you. Lysokos and his men were focused on their opponents in the furrow and still hadn’t realized that we were there. All four of us hit on our first shots, sending the men tumbling to the ground. I shifted aim, firing again at the two men still on their feet, and they went down in a hail of bullets as the others fired again.
For a moment silence fell over the jungle, save for the crackle of flames in the downed quadcopter.
“Who’s there?” called a rough voice from the furrow.
“I’m Winston Tanner,” called Tanner. “Security Director for Safari Company. One of Minister Valier’s guests shot down our quadcopter, and we’ve been trying to make our way back to Outpost Town to find out what’s going on.”
The voice laughed, and a head and pair of shoulders rose over the rough edge of earth, and I recognized the scarred features of Colonel Cassius Argent. “That so? There are all sorts of unpleasant surprises today, Tanner.”
“So I gathered,” said Mr. Royale.
“That you, Royale?” said Argent. “I’m relieved you’re not involved in this mess.”
“Not involved?” said Mr. Royale. “I’m stranded in the Arborean jungle.”
“Let me rephrase that,” said Argent. “I’m glad you’re not responsible for this mess. If you were, you wouldn’t be stranded in the Arborean jungle.”
“You knew this was going to happen, and you didn’t warn me?” said Mr. Royale. “People have died, Colonel.”
“If we had known how far along Minister Valier’s plans were, we would have taken action,” said Argent. “But we had no idea!”
Both Mr. Royale and Argent began trying to talk over each other.
“Okay, okay, okay,” said Tanner. “All right. It looks like we’re on the same side, right? So let’s keep the quarreling to a minimum, and put all our cards on the table. We’re going to come out from cover. If we do that, do you promise not to shoot us?”
“Fine,” said Argent.
He straightened up, stepping out of the furrow, his black uniform smudged with blood and dust. There was a nasty cut on his temple, one that would likely make a new addition to his collection of scars. He was carrying a rifle of a design I did not recognize, probably Security Ministry standard issue. Two of his men followed him. I wondered what had happened to the other two who had accompanied him on Mr. Royale’s ship, and then realized that they had probably died in the crash or in the firefight.
“Mulger, stay with me,” said Argent. “Thompkins, go check Lysokos and his men. Make sure they’re not playing dead.”
One of his men went to check on the men lying dead on the ground. Argent and Mulger walked towards us, rifles held low, but their fingers still rested near their triggers.
“So,” said Argent. “How did you wind up taking a stroll through the jungle today?”
“We were taking a tour through the jungle,” said Mr. Royale. “One of those EcoMin special ops quads came up behind us, ignored our calls, and shot us down. Our pilot was killed in the crash. The EcoMin quad was carrying Alexander Toulon and his bodyguards, and when they landed, they tried to kill us.”
“Toulon?” said Argent, blinking. “Toulon was dumb enough to get wrapped up in all of this? Makes sense, I suppose. He was always one of Valier’s cronies.” He craned his neck. “Since I don’t see Toulon, I assume you killed him.”
“Not exactly,” said Tanner. “A large park of local omnivores with a preference towards carrion arrived at the crash site, drawn by the scent of blood, and we were forced to retreat before we were overwhelmed.”
“And Toulon just happened to get eaten, is that it?” said Argent. “Along with his men.”
“Afraid so,” said Tanner.
Argent snorted. “I feel sorry for the creature that ate that man. No man that poisonous is going to sit well in anything’s belly.”
“That’s our story,” said Tanner. “So how did you wind up taking a walk through the jungle?”
Thompkins finished his inspection of the dead men and rejoined the colonel.
“I suspect our story is about the same as yours,” said Argent. “Valier invited the guests to take a tour of the local jungle via quadcopter. It seemed like a good method of reconnaissance, so we went up with one of your pilots. We had only gotten about twenty kilometers away from Outpost Town when that thing,” he waved his gun at the Avionics quadcopter, “turned up on our tail. I thought Valier had dispatched some EcoMin operators to shoot us down, but as it turned out, it was a hyperdrive magnate with some overpriced and incompetent bodyguards.” His grim face turned harder. “Two of my men and our pilot died in the crash. I won’t forgive that.”
“I assume,” said Tanner, “that you were here to investigate Valier?”
“You are correct,” said Argent. “The Ecology Ministry has long held an excessive influence over politics on New Princeton.”
“There’s an understatement,” I said.
Argent blinked and me and kept speaking. “So investigating the Ecology Minister is a politically difficult challenge, even though Valier has a long list of crimes and misdeeds and outright felonies to his name.”
“I’ve heard of a few of them,” said Tanner, his voice flat. I assumed he was thinking of Kayla and the pesticide that had left her sterile.
“Unfortunately, Valier is clever, an immensely gifted politician, and as slippery as a greased rail,” said Argent. “Seemingly airtight prosecutions against him have collapsed twice to my knowledge, because he was willing to bribe or coerce witnesses, and because he was able to call in favors.”
“Yeah,” said Tanner in a dry voice. “I’ve heard that.”
“The Security Ministry,” said Argent, “has wished to bring Valier down for a considerable time. His sudden interest in the Safari Company project captured our attention, because it was so out
of character for him.”
“Why?” I said. “He’s a crook. Crooks do sleazy things. Like hunting people for sport.”
“Valier’s a crook,” said Argent, “but as far as we can tell, he really believes EcoMin’s official line. He believes that mankind is a blight on the interstellar environment, that human populations need to be culled and regulated, and that we should not colonize any new worlds.”
“So if he really believes that,” I said, “then why is he a crook?”
Mr. Royale snorted. “Because he thinks he’s doing righteous work, Sam. And since he’s doing righteous work, he feels justified in enriching himself along the way. But the Thousand Worlds would be a happier place if we each tended to our own concerns rather than running around trying to improve everyone else.”
“We should move on,” said Charles. “It is best not to linger here. The odor of burning fuel will mask our scents for a while, but sooner or later the tromosaurs and other predators will follow the scent of blood.”
“Right,” said Tanner. “We’d better decide what to do, Colonel.”
“Agreed,” said Argent. “Perhaps it would be better to continue this discussion once we have reached a place of greater safety.”
“I might have an idea about that,” said Tanner, looking at the dead men. “One of Toulon’s goons accidentally shot his quadcopter with a rocket launcher.”
Argent frowned. “Seriously?”
“Afraid so,” I said.
“We had to walk,” said Tanner, turning towards Lysokos’s quadcopter. “Was this thing damaged at all?”
“Not to my knowledge,” said Argent. “Lysokos shut it down when he landed.”
“We don’t have a pilot,” I said.
“I’ve seen you fly drones,” said Tanner.
“That’s different,” I said.
Mulger raised a hand. “I’m certified on a patrol quadcopter. This is a little bigger than I’m used to, but if our other option is to cross ten kilometers of jungle, I am willing to try.”