by GARY DARBY
“But we’re not,” Dason finished.
Sami muttered, “Wait, you just said—”
“I know what I said,” Dason said. “And it’s true. I would like nothing better than to hunt them down, but that’s not the right thing to do—the correct choice to make.
“It’s what they want us to do. The Faction control the circumstances, and we react to them. We need to take the initiative and reverse the situation. Dictate the conditions to them.”
He paused to try to gauge their sentiments. Would they go with him or give in to their pent-up rage and charge across the valley?
“So,” he went on, “here’s what we’re going to do instead. First, we’re going to assume that our teammates are alive. Second . . .” He went on to explain his strategy.
Sami and TJ listened with skeptical expressions. When Dason finished, Sami and TJ exchanged doubtful looks before Sami wrinkled his nose as if he’d just taken a whiff of a foul-smelling Azarian Skunk Flower.
“You know what? You need a checkup from the neck up, bud. You’re off your ever-lovin’ space nut. You realize that, don’t you?”
Dason gave a little shrug before saying, “I know it sounds a bit far-fetched—”
“Far-fetched?!” Sami snorted. “That’s about as far from fetched as you can get. Besides, if we’re talking hare and bloodhound, then we’d better switch places. Nothing personal, but we know who has the speed, lightning reflexes, and—”
“Floppy ears of a rabbit?” TJ finished.
“Hey, I—”
“Slide down to perigee, you two,” Dason interrupted. “We don’t have time. I’m the hare, Sami. No arguments.”
“C’mon, Dason,” Sami persisted and hooked a thumb toward the forest. “These laddie bucks are playing mighty rough.” He took a step closer. Dason was surprised to see a look of real concern in Sami’s eyes.
Sami worked his mouth, struggling with what he wanted to say. He stared at the ground and shifted his stance as if uncomfortable with the situation.
Letting out a deep breath, he raised his eyes to meet Dason’s. “Look, amigo, let me,” he said in a soft voice.
Seeing Dason’s surprised expression, he gave his TL a wan smile while saying, “I owe you one. Besides, you had your run in the jungle, and it almost got you eaten. This isn’t going to be some stroll on Alistar.
“I’ll grant you that you’re good in the woods, but it’s going to be, what, one against thirty, forty, fifty or more? Not real good odds.”
Taken aback by Sami’s sudden display of comradeship, Dason was slow in answering. “Sami, I know you’re better in woodland skills than I am, but that’s why I need you here.
“If the Kerebs wake up and you’ve got to move, then you’re the best chance that we’ve got to ramrod them over unfamiliar ground.”
He shrugged and lifted one corner of his mouth in a weak smile. “Besides, I think with you and TJ on the home team, the odds are just about even.”
Sami stared at Dason for several seconds before he shrugged his shoulders. “Have it your way; can’t say I didn’t try. But, if you get killed, can I have—”
“Sami!” TJ exclaimed while giving Sami’s arm a quick backhand.
In a blunt voice, she said to Dason, “Given that this might work, you realize that you’re going to put those Xees in proximity to the scouters, assuming they haven’t found them already.”
“Hey, that’s right,” Sami chimed. “Plus, how do you know that our Faction friends haven’t gotten to the scouters and zipped outa here?”
“Look,” Dason explained, “think about this for a second. They are, or were, holding Doctor Stinelli and perhaps the others—”
“I got that,” Sami retorted. “But why is what I don’t got.”
”The Kerebs,” TJ answered.
“That’s right,” Dason replied. “Remember when ‘Stinelli’ asked Captain Ruz about the aliens? They wanted to lure us into a trap to capture the XTs.”
“And about now,” TJ emphasized, “they know or have figured out that we have the aliens.”
“Exactly,” Dason answered. “Which means that either one of two things will happen. If our teammates are alive, the Gadions are going to contact us to bargain.
“The question is will they want us to take the XTs to them, or will they come here? My bet is that they’ll want us to go to them—”
“Play on their home field,” TJ stated.
“Yes,” Dason replied, “but that’s where we turn the tables, where they least expect it.”
“And if they don’t contact us?” Sami asked.
Dason swallowed hard, and his heart pounded in his chest, not wanting to express the obvious but knowing that he had to admit that reality to himself and to them.
Choking, he mumbled, “Then our friends are dead, and the Gadions will try and track us down, or head for the scouters and send for help.”
Sami looked down at his comm pack and implored, “C’mon, baby, talk to me, Daddy needs to hear your sweet little voice.”
Sami almost jumped when a gruff voice came over the comms, “All right, whoever is on the other end had better talk to me because if you don’t, I’ll fry your friends. No threat. Just a promise.”
As one, the three scouts looked at their transmitter switches to ensure that they hadn’t been transmitting their earlier conversation. Dason was relieved to see all three were in the “off” position.
Sami had a shaken look about him. The response to his little joke with the communicator was a bit over the top, even for him.
Dason held up a hand to his two companions urging them to be quiet before saying, “Okay, here we go.”
He opened his transmitter and said, “I’m listening.”
“My friend, here’s the deal,” the man replied. “It’s really simple. We want what you have; the extraterrestrials. In return, you get your crew back. At least the ones we have. So, you ready to do a little transaction, or are you willing to let your mates die?”
“First off, I’m not your friend, friend,” Dason replied in a flat tone. “But if it’s XTs you want, discuss it with the big aliens, I think you’d hit it right off with them.”
The Gadion snapped, “Stop with the jokes. Hand over the small aliens and we let your friends go. It’s that easy.”
Dason licked his lips and replied, “You bring our teammates to us, and we’ll hand over the aliens to you.”
The man laughed while saying, “And have you bushwhack us like we did to your so-called rescue party? No, you’re going to bring them to me. And there isn’t going to be funny stuff on your part. I set the rules the whole time. Understood?”
Dason took a deep breath and glanced at his two companions. This was the tricky part, if the Gadion didn’t buy into his story, then his wild idea had little chance of success.
“We can’t move them just yet,” he stated in a voice he hoped rang true to his listener.
The man’s voice had a hard edge to it while he said, “What do you mean you can’t move them? If I say you’re going to march them across this valley, then you are going to march. Now. Or else you’re going to be short a shipmate or two.”
“You don’t understand,” Dason countered. “Last night, the aliens went into a type of hibernation or suspended animation. I don’t know what would happen if I woke them. Might kill them for all I know.”
The man laughed. “You’re lying. Stalling for time.”
“No,” Dason insisted. “It’s true. The scouts you captured—ask one of them. They’ve seen the aliens and can describe what I’m talking about.”
There followed several minutes without further transmission from the Faction member until the man said, “Okay, your story checks out. But what makes you think it’s not just sleep, and all it takes is for you to wake them?”
“I don’t know. And neither do you,” Dason answered. “But if I try to wake them, and it’s against their metabolic nature to be pulled out of this ‘sleep’ it may kill them, just like th
e Anora Salamander on Grayton’s Planet.”
The man’s response was slow as if he was undecided whether to believe Dason or not. “You’re trash-talking me.”
“No,” Dason replied in an earnest voice. “Anora’s Salamander is a hybrid amphibian about a meter in length. Grayton’s Planet has an extreme weather pattern that alternates between two years of monsoon and two years of dry.
“When the water dries up, the salamander burrows into the ground and goes into suspended animation. Its metabolism shuts down to conserve energy and moisture within its body.”
Taking a breath, Dason continued. “Star Scouts have recorded that if anything but water touches the creature, it goes into metabolic shock and dies.
“I don’t know anything about the physiology of these aliens and neither do you. If we try to wake them up too soon from the state they’re in, well, for all I know it could be fatal.”
Not hearing an answer, he glanced over at TJ. She nodded her head and gestured for him to continue. “I would suspect that the profit to be made from the first live aliens to be brought back into Imperium space would be enormously more than dead ones, don’t you think?
“So, I suggest for both our sakes that you give me some time to see if the aliens wake up on their own. If they do, I’ll lead them across the valley and deliver them to you in exchange for our comrades.”
Several seconds went by without a reply. Dason turned his transmitter off. He bent over and for a moment had the shakes, knowing how high the stakes were in his bluff.
He straightened and wiped at the tiny droplets of perspiration that dotted his brow. “Nice going, Dason,” TJ said in approval. “That should give them something to think about.”
“Yeah,” Sami said, “pretty impressive about the salamander too. Must’ve missed that in XT identification class.”
Dason gave Sami a wry grin. “No, you didn’t miss it. There’s no such thing as an Anoran Salamander. Made the whole thing up.”
Sami’s eyes went wide, and he looked at Dason with open admiration. “And here I thought you were a complete goody two-shoes. You are human after all.”
“Thanks, I think,” Dason replied. “Well, that does answer one thing. Some of our teammates are alive. And, if those scum believe the salamander story, it might just give us the time we need to pull off my plan.”
“Our plan,” TJ corrected.
“Right. Our plan,” Sami stated.
Dason nodded in appreciation to their response. “Thanks. Our plan.”
Several minutes ticked by before the harsh voice responded. “For now, I buy your story. But just to make sure you understand how serious I am and to what lengths I’m prepared to go to get those aliens, I suggest you pay close attention.”
There was a pause and then, “This is Shanon.” Her voice quivered as she said, “One of the men has a laz-gun aimed at Bianca’s head.”
Shanon’s scream was sharp, piercing in Dason’s ear. “No! Don’t—”
There came the unmistakable sound of a laz-gun firing and then silence.
Dason’s whole body went rigid. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his side, Dason felt as if he were trapped in a time bubble where time had no beginning, no end.
He was shaken from his almost trance-like state by Shanon sobbing over the comms, “Dason, they—they—”
She stopped as if to take a shuddering breath before saying, “They lasered Bianca.”
Chapter Thirteen
Star Date: 2443.062
Unnamed planet in the Helix Nebula
Dason’s knees buckled and in slow motion he went to one knee, his head hanging down. A guttural rumble came from Sami, whose contorted face showed how close he was to pure rage. Hot tears of outrage streaked TJ’s cheeks. One hand squeezed her mouth as if she were trying to stifle a piercing cry of anger.
Dason’s mouth worked as he tried to say something, but nothing would come. As if a giant anaconda had wrapped itself around his chest, squeezing every molecule of air out of his lungs, Dason fought for breath.
It was several seconds before he realized that the Faction mercenary was speaking to him, “. . . if you don’t deliver the goods, I have more charges in my laz-gun, and more of your people, if you get my drift. Do we understand each other?”
Dason tried to answer, his mouth moving, but no sound came. He switched his communicator on and managed to croak out, “I understand.”
“Good. I’ll check in with you in a couple hours. If the aliens wake before that, notify me that you’re on the move.”
The Gadion ended the transmission. His mind and body numb, Dason raised himself to a standing position. He stood staring at the ground for several seconds before he took a deep breath and said, “Got to move—”
TJ nodded, her hands wiping away tears. Sami came over to Dason, put a hand on his shoulder, and clutched it firmly. “You best get going. Not much time.”
Dason nodded in reply. He reached into his vest and pulled out his LifeSensor. He looked at it before handing it to Sami.
Sami’s eyebrows rose as he took the little device. “Partner,” he began, “I think you’re going to need this. I meant it when I said you were good in the woods—not that you have extrasensory perception and can see around corners and such.”
Dason shook his head. “No,” he sighed, “take it, there’s just the chance that they may get me too, you know.”
Sami rasped out, “I think the Jakuta have caught enough of us that one more LS ain’t gonna make much difference.”
Dason met Sami’s eyes. “I wasn’t talking about getting captured by them,” he stated.
“Oh,” was all Sami replied.
“Besides,” Dason went on, “if you have to move, give it to Alena, and give her a quick crash course on how to use it, maybe she can be of some help.”
While Dason did a quick equipment check, Sami and TJ handed over several spare comm sets. Dason tucked the sets away, hitched at his vest, and gave one final order, “Remember, if this doesn’t work, make for that Star Scout transport and whatever you do, keep the little aliens away from those scuzzballs.”
“Got it, TL,” Sami answered soberly.
With a quick wave, Dason turned to make his way down the incline and head upstream.
He glanced upward to note that the sun had just passed its zenith, letting bright shafts of light pierce the forest canopy and illuminate the woodland floor.
That would both help and hinder him in that it would let him see the big XTs sooner and from farther away, but hamper in that it would lessen the number of places where he could hide.
Dason’s plan was simple. Ambush one or more of the big aliens, get into a running chase, and lead them toward the Gadion Faction mercenaries. With luck, the two sides would get into a mêlée and allow Dason to steal away any surviving scouts from both the XTs and the Faction.
A risky gamble that might end up with them all in the Jakutas’ hands, but from where Dason stood it was the only option they had—to turn one foe against the other.
Moreover, from his recent experience with the Faction he preferred taking his chances with the big aliens.
Based on the way he had seen the big humanoid-looking aliens move in the woods, Dason was confident that he could stay ahead of them. Nevertheless, he had three problems.
First, they had the numbers, and if they were able to encircle him, the one against the many usually didn’t turn out well for the one.
Second, he didn’t know the Faction’s exact location. He had a general idea, but that was all, and if he were off in his guess, his plan would fail.
Last, if the Gadion leader called him over the comms, to check on the Kerebs’ status, he would have to respond to avoid suspicion. But that call might well come at a time when he was trying to be stealthy and avoid capture.
Dason pushed ahead, knowing he had some formidable obstacles to overcome. But he couldn’t afford to waste time on what-ifs because right now his first task was to hunt a
nd bag a “Thrower of Light.”
After an hour of fruitless searching, Dason got his wish. Soft guttural voices in the dense thickets just ahead gave him a warning. He went to ground behind the concealing branches of an intertwined violet-stemmed shrub.
He soon spied two of the large creatures moving with wary steps through the forest. With their dull gray hand weapons drawn, they peered into and around the neighboring flora.
One raised his head in a sniffing movement, almost as if he was testing the air, and the forest fragrances carried along on the gentle air currents that stirred the nearby leaves.
For several minutes, Dason stayed alongside, but out of sight of the two XTs, listening and watching. He wanted to make sure whether there were more around than just these two.
One alien brought his wrist up close to his mouth and in a low, rumbling voice spoke into the device he wore. Dason assumed that it was a transmitter and the alien was talking to others of its kind nearby.
Nodding to himself, Dason decided that the timing was right. Making sure that his exit path was clear, he took careful aim at the closest alien and fired.
The extraterrestrial arched backward and let out a throaty caterwaul before slumping to the ground. Seeing his companion fall to the ground, the second alien dove behind a tree and began growling in what Dason assumed was their language.
From nearby, a chorus of loud calls responded.
The pack had found their prey and the hunt was on.
Dason let the XT get a good look at him before he sprinted away. In a darting zigzag, he sped from one tree to another, using the giant tree trunks as a protective cover.
He found it surprising that the alien hadn’t returned fire, but maybe he couldn’t get a good bead, which suited Dason just fine. He raced along, using tree roots as springboards, and taking advantage of concealing clumps of brush to change direction to throw off his followers.
After several minutes, Dason stopped to spy upon his back trail and to catch his breath. Several aliens came loping into view. All had weapons drawn and they too used the trees for cover.
Dason waited while they closed and then scampered away. The next few minutes were going to be the tricky part. He would have to lead his pursuers first upstream and away from where he assumed the Faction henchmen were before turning, at the right time, back down the valley.