Prison Planet

by William C. Dietz

  Honcho flipped a lever on the side of the A-frame which engaged a brake on the pulley. Renn felt the tension go off the line as the brake locked it into place.

  Jumo wiped his hands on his pants as he eyed the dripping artifact and the supporting A-frame. “You think it'll fit?”

  Renn nodded. It looked as if the artifact would just barely fit through the top part of the A. A quick measurement by Honcho confirmed his guess.

  “Well then let's give it a try,” Jumo grabbed the line and they all followed suit. “On three,” Jumo said. “One, two, and three!” They all heaved as hard as they could. Since the line was locked in place this had the effect of pulling the top of the A-frame towards them. With a screech of unoiled metal the A-frame swiveled on its hinged legs. As the A frame tilted towards them, the artifact came with it, swinging neatly through the top part of the A with only inches to spare. The artifact jerked to a halt as the A-frame hit the stops built into its base, and hung there, swinging gently back and forth. The pulley lock was released, and moments later the artifact was gently lowered to the floor.

  By now it was evening, and time to return to the camp. Ford was sent up to the surface for a couple of long poles. By placing these side by side on the floor, and connecting them with short pieces of line, Renn made a sling. The artifact was placed in the sling upside down pedestals up. Then with a man on each end of both poles the artifact was carried to the surface. By the time a second trip had been made to retrieve Chin's electronics, it was dark. The A-frame and other heavy duty gear were left below for future use.

  The artifact and Chin's gear were painstakingly hauled to camp. As they entered, the first thing Renn saw was Vanessa, sitting in a camp chair reading a micro spool. She didn't even look up when the marines entered carrying the artifact between them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she wasn't too thrilled with Honcho's success.

  After dinner was made, eaten and cleared away, Honcho began work on the artifact. It was a long, slow process. Working with infinite care, he used a variety of brushes to clean off as much sediment as he could, and then went to work with a collection of small tools. Gently, he chipped away at the encrusted sediment, often mumbling to himself, the clink of his tools echoing softly between the walls.

  Renn watched for a while, but grew increasingly sleepy, and decided to lay down for a little nap. The next thing he knew, it was morning and Jumo was nudging him awake. “Come on Jonathan. It's time to get up.”

  Yawning, he sat up, and then clawed for the .75. There was a tunnel creature sitting not ten feet away! Their laughter stopped him. He took another look. It was the most incredible piece of sculpture he'd ever seen. Every line was perfect, somehow capturing not only the look of the beast, but the feeling too. It seemed to live, to breathe, as if any moment it might come out of a trance and move towards him. But it was different somehow. For one thing there was a half smile on its dog face, similar to the one Marla often wore, and there was something else a look of wisdom in its eyes. But how could that be? The tunnel creatures were among the most vicious on Swamp!

  “We don't know,” Honcho said simply, answering Renn's silent question. The Finthian looked drawn and haggard. He'd worked through the night, unable to stop. Each additional patch of cleaned sculpture had demanded another, and so on, until the whole thing was laid bare.

  “Not even a guess?”

  Honcho grinned wearily. “You know damned well I couldn't resist a guess.” He gestured to the sculpture. “I haven't got much to back it up, but based on the fact that these things are mammals, while everything else on this planet is oviparous, you've got to ask yourself if they originally came from off planet. And if they did come from off planet, then it seems logical to think the Builders brought them here, and thought them important enough to immortalize through sculpture. Take a look at those feet.”

  Renn did as Honcho asked, and saw that the first two sets of feet were clearly prehensile. He knew without checking that the creatures they'd killed earlier had elongated claws on their front feet.

  Honcho nodded knowingly. “That's right. Tool users. It seems this particular species was sentient at one time. Apparently they de-evolved into their present state. “The question is why?” Honcho stared at the sculpture as if willing it to answer.

  “They got left behind?”

  Honcho looked up and frowned. “What did you say?”

  Renn shrugged. “Maybe they got left behind when the Builders took off. Perhaps they were dependent on the Builders in some special way, and when the Builders left unexpectedly, they couldn't make it on their own.”

  Honcho smiled. “Not a bad theory. I think I'll write it up and take credit for it.”

  “So what else is new,” Vanessa said, getting up from her chair, and stalking outside. Marla was forced to scurry out of her way.

  Renn barely noticed Vanessa leave. He was getting caught up in the intellectual puzzle. If the first artifact recovered suggested an intelligent race descended into barbarity, then what would the other seven reveal? Renn wanted to know, and judging from the look in Honcho's huge eyes, he did too.

  So two hours later they were underground once more. Chin assembled his electronics, while Renn stripped, and prepared to dive. Meanwhile Marla fussed around the edges. She felt Renn had done his share, and that someone else should take a turn. But Renn was stubborn as usual, insisting that he was the logical choice. He knew where the other artifacts were and what to expect. Besides, he'd be better equipped this time. With Jumo's help, he'd jury rigged a cutting torch from a mini-welder, and cobbled together an adjustable sling. Together they'd simplify the whole process of cutting the artifacts loose and getting them to the surface.

  Chin dropped his instruments into the cold water and ran a preliminary check. Renn eyed Chin's findings as he made the final adjustments to his diving rig. There they were, seven white blobs, and no sign of anything new. He gave Marla a thumbs up, attached both lines to his harness, and climbed up onto the wall. The water looked flat and black. Renn felt a sudden chill which had nothing to do with the cold air, but shook it off. He'd been down there before and emerged without a scratch. He stepped into space and dropped feet first into the water.

  Far below the thing sensed the shock wave caused by Renn's entry, and stirred slightly. So, the food had returned. The thing had no sense of time. Seconds or days might have passed. It made little difference. The food had gone away and returned. And that was good. The thing was hungry. A vast, empty need ran the length of its body and demanded satisfaction.

  As before Renn saw nothing but glittering sediment. Kicking strongly he headed for the center of the room and the waiting artifacts. His light touched them first and, moments later, so did he. He unwrapped the sling, slipped it around an artifact, and made it fast. Next he used the torch to cut through the encrusted sediment around its base. Suddenly a cold current of water touched his neck. He spun around, eyes probing the darkness. Nothing.

  Just nerves. He turned back to the artifact and clipped the cargo line to the sling. Something hit his lifeline with incredible force. The lifeline jerked him upwards and then let go as razor-sharp teeth sliced it in two. Looking up Renn saw a huge mouthful of backward-curving teeth coming straight at him. Renn ducked behind an artifact and felt the water boil around him as the monstrous thing slid by. He tried to follow the thing's head and just barely escaped as it darted in from behind.

  Suddenly a huge coil of the thing's snake-like body materialized around his waist. As it began to tighten he saw the head turn on the end of a long serpentine neck and dart his way. If he didn't do something fast he'd wind up as snake food. He went for the force blade. Damn! It was out of reach below the fat coil of hard flesh which was wrapped around his middle.

  Desperate fingers scrabbled for the cutting torch and found it still clipped to its lanyard. He triggered it. Nothing. The head was still coming. Damn and double damn, he'd forgotten the safety. Clumsy fingers released the safety and hit the t
rigger again. A foot long lance of blue energy leaped into existence and boiled the surrounding water. He saw the thing's head jerk back. Good, he'd bought some time. Then he felt his eyes bulge as the thing squeezed even harder.

  The thing was puzzled and a little frightened. What was this food which fought back in strange ways and created heat? Why wouldn't it die as food should?

  It was hard to breathe. Renn's vision began to blur as he applied the torch to the thing's flesh. Skin, muscle and bone seemed to melt away. Dark blood spurted out to stain the water. The thing writhed in agony but managed to hold on. Gritting his teeth, Renn directed the torch back and forth across the width of the thing's body, determined to cut it in two. He was about a third of the way through when it suddenly let go.

  Whipping itself around in a tight circle the thing came straight at him. Gasping for air, Renn felt the floor under his feet and held the torch straight out. The monster kept on coming. Then, just when it seemed the creature would swallow his arm—lance and all—the thing swerved.

  Acting on impulse, Renn bent his knees and used the floor to push off. As he hit, Renn threw his arms and legs around the thing's snake-like body, and hung on. It wasn't easy. The thing tried to throw him off, snapping from side to side, and looping this way and that. Twice it tried to bite him, but couldn't bend enough to reach something only six or eight feet back from its own head. Renn continued to work his way up towards the thing's skull. Having failed to cut the creature in two he'd try for its brain. If its brain was somewhere else, then maybe he could destroy the thing's mouth. Inch by inch, foot by foot, he moved slowly upwards.

  Something hit his right leg and hurt like hell. The damned thing was trying to scrape him off against the artifacts! The rubber mouthpiece was suddenly jerked from his mouth. With his air supply gone so was his time. He couldn't reach back to get it without letting go, and that would mean certain death. Gritting his teeth against the pain Renn doubled his efforts to move upwards. Moments later he found himself clinging just below the thing's flat head. His lungs were on fire, his vision blurred, and his thoughts painfully slow. Mustering every remaining ounce of strength, Renn aimed his torch at what he hoped was the creature's brain case, and hit the trigger. A lance of blue energy disappeared into the thing's skull. Brains boiled. Convulsions rippled the length of the creature's body. It went limp. Renn let go and grabbed for the mouthpiece. As he sucked cold, sweet air into his lungs, the thing fell, throwing up a long wave of sediment as it hit the floor. Soon its flesh would rot away and be eaten by a host of tiny scavengers. And then it would join its victims beneath a shroud of white.

  Chapter Twelve

  Renn made six more dives over the next two days. Chin maintained a sharp lookout via his sensors but saw no signs of life. Perhaps the water was too cold for other monsters, or the passageway too hard to find, or who knows. Whatever the reason the pool remained empty and Renn worked undisturbed. They had it down to a science now, reeling the artifacts in like dead fish, and hauling them back to camp.

  Meanwhile Honcho worked day and night. Under his careful hands the sculptures were reborn, gradually emerging from sedimentary cocoons to new life. They were a varied lot, alike only in their absolute perfection. The first statue was still the only one corresponding to a known life form. Although Honcho had cleaned up five more, and each was quite interesting in its own right, none corresponded with the alien races encountered by man. Some were probably sentient, since there is a high degree of correlation between tool-use and sentience, and these had prehensile limbs, or were depicted as having tool-like artifacts. Others were less clear having physiologies too alien to understand via a piece of sculpture. So the sculptures evoked all sorts of questions, the primary one being what were they to each other? And or, what were they to the Builders? One of the most popular-theories was that they represented subject or member races within the Builders’ empire. Honcho pointed out that while that was one of the possibilities, it was more than a little anthropocentric and was therefore less likely to be accurate.

  So they vied with each other to create new theories. Jumo came up with one of the most original during dinner one evening. He was standing in front of the statues, chewing his last mouthful of food when he asked, “How do we know the Builders were nice guys? For all we know these statues might be a menu, you know, the eight foods Builders like best!”

  Honcho smiled. “Not a bad theory, although I wouldn't want to snack on any of them myself. They're too weird looking.”

  Now it was the fourth day, all the artifacts had been raised, and things had settled into a routine. Vanessa was sulking as usual, Marla was on a security patrol with Jumo, and Renn was just goofing off. A privilege everyone agreed he'd earned. His leg was a little sore, but otherwise he felt pretty good. He was sipping his third cup of morning coffee when the chipping sounds suddenly stopped. He noticed because the clink and clatter of Honcho's tools had long since become a natural part of the background. No one could figure out how the Finthian scientist managed to keep going without sleep, but somehow he did. Maybe he was finally taking a break.

  Then Renn heard an inarticulate squawking noise. The sound had a distressed quality. Renn jumped to his feet, dropped his coffee, and hurried towards Honcho's makeshift work area. As he approached, Renn noticed that Honcho wasn't wearing his translator. That would account for the squawking noises but not his obvious distress. Honcho's eyes bulged with pent-up emotion, his neck feathers fluffed out into a stiff collar, and his hand trembled as he pointed towards his latest effort. Turning Renn felt his heart leap into his throat. The half-cleaned sculpture was a perfect replica of a Finthian male!

  Needless to say the Finthian sculpture stirred up a great deal of discussion. It even brought Vanessa over for a narrow-eyed look. Glancing from Honcho to the sculpture and back again, she nodded knowingly, and said, “Well this certainly supports the thesis that there's some sort of special link between the builders and the Finthian race.”

  And it was true. The sculpture seemed to prove some sort of ancient linkage between the builders and the Finthians. Curiously enough, this seemed to trouble Honcho rather than please him. He stopped working, retreated to a distant part of the hall, and sat there for two days refusing all conversation, and consuming nothing but a little water.

  As the Finthian scientist faded into the background, Vanessa came forward. She picked up the work where he'd left off, finishing the Finthian statue, and completing another as well. As she worked, Vanessa spoke steadily into a small recorder fastened to her belt, and occasionally paused to take holos of work in process. She was half way through the last statue, a strange insectoid looking lifeform, when Honcho emerged from his self-imposed isolation.

  Looking over what she'd done Honcho nodded his approval. “Good work Vanessa. Nicely done.” He caught Jumo's eye. “Call everyone together please. Guards excepted of course. I'd like to hold a short staff meeting.”

  As Jumo hurried off, the Finthian scientist selected a meal pak from his private supply, and triggered the heating element. Seconds later he ripped the top off and began to eat. Renn averted his eyes, disliking the sight of the poached grubs which Honcho so eagerly forked into his mouth. By the time everyone had gathered around he was polishing off his second meal pak. “Care for some grub, anyone?” Honcho held up an especially ripe specimen on his single pronged Finthian fork. “No? Well you're quite right. Something about the way they make these damned meal paks dries ’em out. Nothing worse than a dried out grub.”

  The humans tried to look sympathetic, wincing only slightly as Honcho placed the last grub in his mouth, and then popped it with his beak. “So it seems I owe you an apology. I know that by human standards I've been somewhat distant over the last few days. I assure you however that such periods are a normal reaction to stress among my people, and quite healing. Why you humans run to each other during such times will forever escape me. In any case, the source of my stress was the discovery that there is indeed an ancien
t link between my race and that of the Builders.”

  Here Honcho turned away as if ashamed. “I'm afraid my reaction was quite unscientific. Leaping to unscientific conclusions has always been one of my greatest weaknesses, and when I saw my race represented in what might very well be a subordinate role, well, I allowed my emotions to momentarily prevail.”

  Now he turned back, large saucer-like eyes turning to each of them in turn. “You humans are not alone in your feelings of superiority.” Honcho shrugged a very human shrug. “So it became necessary to retreat within for awhile and deal with my emotions.” He smiled. “The funny part is that after other more objective minds have examined our find, they may very well decide my assumptions were grounded in fact, and conclude that all of these races were somehow subservient.”

  “But their judgment will have to wait. I called you together because I think we've taken this effort about as far as we can. What started out as a survey has turned into a full scale dig, only without the tools and personnel required to do a good job. I fear that before long both our supplies and our good luck will begin to run out.”

  Renn saw Jumo nod in agreement, and knew without looking that Marla agreed as well.

  “So,” Honcho continued, “Rather than wait for that to happen, I propose we transport the artifacts to the LZ and put them aboard the shuttle. Then we'll take a quick look at the other two sites, pack up, and lift. After that, well, who knows. Our artifacts should stir things up. Maybe even enough to get our superiors off their roosts. On the strength of what we've found, perhaps they'll land enough marines to do the job right.”

  “Or hire locals to do it,” Renn suggested. “There's a lot of tough customers on this planet, they have to be, but the promise of a pardon would raise a small army.”

  Honcho nodded his agreement. “An excellent suggestion. Given that kind of protection, enough supplies, and sufficient time we could learn a lot here. We've only scratched the surface.”