The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance)

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “Ah.”

  That ah did not sound promising. He heard Ankari relay the message, but Tick couldn’t quite make out the response. Lauren was probably in her lab.

  “My microbiologist suggests that if the captain wishes her to look at something, he should bring it to the shuttle,” Ankari said.

  “I’m sure he would, ma’am, but it’s a cave. Those can be a challenge to transport.”

  “What does he think I am?” a new voice asked in the distance—Lauren, this time. “A speleologist?”

  “A spew-what?” Striker asked, listening from behind Tick.

  “Someone who studies caves,” Tick told him. “I’ll explain when I get there, ma’am. Just pack whatever you need to walk a couple of miles and investigate a computer system in an underground greenhouse.”

  An argument between Ankari and Lauren started up, but someone cut the comm before he heard all of it.

  “Told you,” Striker said. “Kicking and screaming.”

  Tick sighed, wishing Mandrake had assigned someone else to this task. He and Lauren had been getting along well—she’d even held his hand, sort of—so he hated to be the villain to her, but if Mandrake wanted a microbiologist, a microbiologist Tick would deliver to him.

  Chapter 7

  Lauren stood with her arms crossed as Ankari packed a bag of equipment for her. Just because the bats had stopped howling and the mercenaries had been able to return to patrolling the area outside did not mean that Lauren wanted to go on a field trip into the jungle. She had only allowed herself to be dragged along down to this hellish moon on the assumption—no, the promise—that she would be allowed to stay in the shuttle, in her lab. Her secure, comfortable lab. What could they have possibly found out there that couldn’t be brought back for her to examine? She was a microbiologist. She didn’t look at anything that didn’t require magnification to observe, and it was a foregone conclusion that those mercenaries weren’t excited about something they couldn’t see.

  “Shall I toss some sexy panties in here along with your scientific doodads?” Ankari asked. “Since it’s Tick coming to pick you up? Maybe he’ll take you off to a nice cave on the way back, and you’ll change your mind about spending time with him.”

  Jamie sniggered from the pilot’s seat.

  Lauren frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t think Lauren has sexy panties,” Jamie said.

  “My panties are perfectly functional.” Lauren walked forward and snatched the bag away from Ankari. “Stop touching everything. And what are you packing? Are those my forceps? What do you expect me to have to do out there?”

  “I really don’t know. I just thought I’d help by tossing things from that drawer into your bag.”

  “Well, stop helping. I’m not going anywhere. I told you—”

  The hatch hissed open. Lauren sighed and turned toward the wet men standing on the ramp, the weak dawn light filtering in around them. Tick and Striker. She opened her mouth to tell them that they had wasted their time coming back for her, but Tick frowned as he looked around the shuttle and spoke first.

  “Where are Hemlock and the others?”

  “They’re not outside?” Ankari asked. “They’re supposed to be patrolling.”

  “Didn’t see ’em,” Striker said. “Unless they went into the other shuttle to get social with Commander Thatcher.”

  “Nobody voluntarily goes to get social with Thatcher,” Tick said. “Except for Lieutenant Calendula, but that’s because she’s braver than the rest of us.”

  “I’ll see if they’re in Frog’s shuttle,” Striker said and trotted back down the ramp.

  Tick stepped through the hatchway, removed his cap, the fur limp and wet, and smiled at Lauren. “May I escort you into the jungle for a short walk, ma’am?”

  “No, you may not.”

  His smile grew bleak. “The captain ordered me to get you.”

  “The captain can kiss my forceps.”

  Tick’s brow furrowed. “Your sister is perusing a computer full of druid data. The captain is concerned that she’s getting information that we should know about but which she’s not going to tell us about.”

  “You found a computer out in that?” Lauren frowned at the view screen, at the branches outside dripping moss and water.

  “In a cave, yes. Let me show you?”

  Ankari nudged Lauren. “He’s offering to show you his cave. I think you should take him up on the offer.”

  Lauren was sure that was a sexual innuendo, even if she didn’t understand it. Maybe Tick didn’t either, because his forehead wrinkled, and he said, “Actually, I think it’s Mandrake’s cave. The security system liked him and let him in.”

  “In that case, maybe I should be going along,” Ankari said, smiling.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. This was not the time for sexual innuendoes or sexual anything. This was the time for avoiding being dragged out into a nefarious jungle full of predators.

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the ramp. Striker.

  “Thatcher and Frog haven’t seen the others. They’ve been busy trading insults with each other. Well, Thatcher has been quizzing Frog on aerodynamics and flight theory. Frog’s been doing the insulting.”

  Tick frowned at Ankari. “They didn’t say they were leaving? They’re supposed to be guarding you.” He looked at Lauren when he said that you. Implying that she needed even more guarding than the others? Alas, that might be true.

  Ankari tapped her comm-patch. She, Lauren, and Jamie weren’t technically a part of the crew, but Mandrake had issued them all company patches.

  “Lieutenant Sparks?” she asked. “Did you decide to go off on an adventure without letting us know about it?”

  Several seconds passed without an answer. Lauren shifted uneasily. What trouble had the men found? Her instincts might be overactive when it came to danger, but she trusted there was a reason they had been telling her to stay in the shuttle and not venture out.

  “It’s Corporal Hemlock’s adventure, ma’am,” Sparks finally answered, sounding breathless. Animals shrieked in the background. Not the bats, but something else that sounded equally unfriendly. “He said he saw someone spying on the shuttles. He’s leading us into… to… Hell, I don’t know, ma’am. We’ll be back as soon as possible. You’re not in trouble, are you?”

  “No, not unless Lauren sticks forceps in my eye when I try to push her out the hatchway.”

  Lauren gave Ankari the sour look she deserved. Ankari smiled back at her.

  “Look out, you—ouch!”

  Ankari’s smile turned to a frown. “Sparks?”

  This time, the lieutenant did not answer.

  Tick rubbed his face. “We’ve been down here less than two hours, and this mission has already gotten overly complicated.”

  “Want me to go out and look for them?” Striker asked.

  “I’m the tracker. I should go.” Tick tapped his comm-patch. “Sparks? Hemlock? Gavrikov? Answer me.” He growled. “What’s going on? The storm is over. There shouldn’t be anything interfering with the comms.”

  “You going to leave me to carry your scientist back to the captain by myself?” Striker asked.

  Lauren scowled at him. “You try to carry me anywhere, and I’ll stab you with an injector full of argenocide.”

  “And that is what?”

  “A fungicide with side effects that are known to cause a loss of libido and lower sperm count in humans.”

  Lauren had simply named the first drug that had popped into her mind—she had ordered some the day before—but was pleased to see the horrified expression that took over Striker’s face. He backed up, hands raised in the air.

  “I can track them just fine, Tick,” Striker said. “You stay with your mad scientist. I’ll comm if I run into trouble.”

  He didn’t wait for Tick’s approval before jogging down the ramp and disappearing into the trees.

  “Yes, I’m sure the captain will appreciate his comp
any splitting up and wandering all over the jungle.” Tick shook his head, chomping agitatedly at his gum. “Split your forces. That’s the natural strategy to use when there’s trouble about.”

  “I don’t think Hemlock and Gavrikov even have their comm units on,” Ankari said with a frown. She tapped her patch again. “Viktor? We’re having a little drama out here. Do you still need Lauren? Do you have any men that can help with a, uhm—”

  “Bunch of idiots that ran off on their own,” Tick finished.

  They waited a few seconds, but Mandrake didn’t answer, either.

  “Wonderful,” Tick muttered.

  “Maybe the storm is worse between us and the ship,” Ankari said. “The signals go through the Albatross, right? We had trouble with communications the last time we were down here too.”

  “I remember,” Tick said, though he looked toward the view screen, not convinced. The rain continued to lessen, the sky growing brighter. “Lauren, will you come with me, please? We’ll go check on your sister and the captain in person. I hope she didn’t push some button that caused trouble.”

  “I’d say that she would never cause trouble, but that would be a lie,” Lauren said.

  “I believe you.” He offered her his arm.

  She gazed toward the drizzle dripping from the top of the open hatchway. If someone was skulking around out there, was there any guarantee that she would be safer here with Ankari and Jamie than she would be out there with Tick? They could keep the hatch locked, but if another ship came, the craft might be an easy target, especially with its vibrant pink paint. On the other hand, animals could find them out there. Hungry animals with large teeth.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” Tick said quietly, as if he understood her internal debate.

  Who knew, maybe he did. She looked into his eyes, not that comfortable with the notion. Still, he had that easy-going manner, even when he was agitated and macerating his poor piece of gum to death. It was hard to feel uncomfortable around a man wearing a fur hat with a tail.

  “Fine.” Lauren took her bag from Ankari. “Let me get a couple of things.”

  “Not that fungicide, I hope.” His eyebrows twitched.

  “I didn’t pack that,” Ankari said. “I don’t think.”

  “No, but it’s a mystery as to why you think I’ll need a—” Lauren plucked a clunky five-pound tool out of her bag with a frown, “—portable scanning tunneling microscope in a cave.”

  “I figured you’d want to be prepared.”

  “For atomic curiosities?”

  “You never know.”

  “You don’t have any idea what that tool does, do you?” Tick asked Ankari.

  “Not really.” She smiled at him and patted Lauren on the shoulder. “Have her back by ten. No shenanigans.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lauren shook her head. Shenanigans from Tick were the least of her concerns. Ankari’s smile faded as she turned away from them, tapping her comm-patch, trying again to catch the captain. Nobody answered.

  • • • • •

  Tick was relieved when the roar of the waterfall reached his ears. He walked with his laser rifle cradled in his arms and constantly looked back to check on Lauren. Normally, he would be certain he could handle any wildlife the moon might throw at him, but too many strange occurrences were happening. He couldn’t help but wonder if that other ship had remained in the vicinity and was doing something to scramble their communications. He supposed it was possible the forcefield had covered the entrance of the cave again and that it was dampening the signal for the captain’s comm-patch. But that wouldn’t have affected Hemlock and the others. With every step Tick moved away from those men, he felt guiltier for leaving the tracking to Striker. Was getting Lauren to that computer as important as making sure the crew wasn’t in trouble?

  “The animals seem quieter in this end of the canyon,” Lauren said.

  It was the first thing she’d said since they left the shuttle. She had been keeping up with him without complaint, but he’d glimpsed her flinching now and then at some noise or another, and peering warily into the foliage. If the narrow trail would have permitted it, and if she would have permitted it, he would happily have walked arm-in-arm with her, making her feel secure.

  “Naturally,” Tick said, letting more of his backwoods drawl into his voice. “I’m using my redoubtable mercenary fearsomeness to keep them away.”

  Judging by the way Lauren’s mouth twisted, she wasn’t overly soothed.

  “Also, half of the company is waiting around the waterfall up ahead, and we killed a bunch of those giant bats, so the critters probably aren’t in the mood to loiter in the area.” Half the company was an exaggeration, but Tick looked forward to reuniting with the large squadron of men. Even if some of them had been looking at him as if he were a companion to the devil, he would take some comfort from the numbers. The animals didn’t worry him, but if Hemlock had seen someone skulking in the trees, that might only be the tip of the iceberg.

  “Redoubtable, huh?” she asked. “Did I mention I was impressed that you knew what a speleologist was?”

  “Because mercenaries are all stupid?” Tick asked, though he felt more pleased than insulted. He had impressed her? Truly?

  “Not… all of them.”

  Tick couldn’t manage to feel affronted on behalf of his comrades. A lot of them were dimwits. She was probably thinking of Striker specifically. Tick was no scholar himself, but he could usually understand what Thatcher was talking about when he started hurling his vocabulary around like a medicine ball.

  “I read books,” Tick said. “Sometimes they have fancy words in them.”

  “What kinds of books?”

  “Some history books, but mostly novels. Lots of post-devastation stories where a lone man has to lead people into the wilderness to protect them, and saves the day using his clever survival skills.” He grinned back at her. “Bet you can’t imagine why I’d like those.”

  She looked at his forehead. No, wait—that was his cap she was looking at. He decided she wouldn’t likely be impressed if he told her he’d caught the critter, skinned it, and made the headwear himself. He hadn’t met too many women who went weak-kneed over that kind of thing.

  “I can see why you’d like stories with survivalist heroes,” she said slowly, “but the rest of it… Doesn’t it bother you reading about stories of death and destruction when you grew up on Grenavine?”

  “I guess it just gives me more of an appreciation for heroes dealing with the loss of their own worlds. And they’re not all death and doom. Ever read Volkov? He’s got some humor in his stories.”

  “Ah.”

  Her gaze shifted toward the stream and the trees again, and he sensed that she would let the conversation end there. He’d so rarely heard her talk about anything except her work that he was reluctant to end their chat. The peek into outside-the-lab Lauren was rare.

  “Do you like to read?” He pushed aside a thorny branch, holding it so she could pass without getting whacked in the face.

  “I follow many of my peers’ publications and keep abreast of the latest discoveries in my field.”

  So, not a big reader of fiction, he wagered. “Sometimes, when I’m reading in my bunk at night, I wish I had someone to share the good bits with.”

  “I’ve had that thought too,” Lauren said.

  “You have?” Tick hopped over a fern to take the lead again. “I didn’t realize science publications had, ah, good bits.”

  “Clearly, you haven’t read many.”

  “Clearly.”

  The roar of the waterfall had increased, so he called out, “Sergeant Tick incoming,” not wanting anyone with a twitchy trigger finger to see movement and shoot. Most of the people in the company were better trained than that, but there was no reason to take chances.

  To his surprise, nobody answered. He pushed through the foliage, crinkling his nose as the smell of the charred, dead bats reached his nose. Soon, he
stepped out of the brush, and the pool and waterfall came into view. The circle of dead bats remained, but the mercenaries were gone.

  “Hm,” he said as Lauren came up beside him. An uneasy feeling flitted through his stomach, but he added, “They must have gone into the cave.” Maybe that ship had cruised overhead, and the company had needed to take cover to avoid notice.

  “What cave?”

  Tick started to point to the entrance, but the forcefield had gone back up, camouflaging the rock face again. “It’s behind that. We’ll have to figure out how to open it again. Or maybe knocking will work.” Presumably, the captain and the others were inside.

  Lauren wore a dubious expression, but she followed him across the stream and past the field of dead bats. At least the carnage did not seem to bother her. A scientist had probably seen plenty of death, dealing with the short lives of lab rats, if nothing else.

  Before Tick reached the cliff, he spotted a few pockmarks and gouges in the earth and veered over to look at them. Had the company made them while fighting the bats? Earlier, it had been too dark to see the ground well, but now that daylight had come—however smothered with clouds the sky was—he could make out much more. The trampled vegetation, dead bats, and boot marks in the mud all made sense, but the pockmarks and gouges? He crouched beside one, stretching his hand over it to help estimate the size.

  “What is it?” Lauren asked, sticking close to his side.

  “Damage done by large weapons. Ship’s weapons.” Tick swiped his finger through the dirt. It was still warm. He lifted his finger to his nose.

  “Perhaps I should have brought my electron microscope, after all.”

  “Hm?”

  “To help with the identification.”

  “No need.” Tick touched his finger to his tongue, tasting the charred dirt. “Laser weapons. And judging by the angle...” He squinted along the line toward the top of one of the cliff walls. “The attacks came from up there. Might have been a flyby.” He chewed thoughtfully on his gum, though the minty flavor and caffeine had long faded. He was tempted to climb to the top of the cliff to see if the ship might have landed up there, or if there were other clues, but he couldn’t imagine that his own people had gone that way. “Let’s see if the rest of the men went inside to avoid the attack.”