The Unsettling Stars

by Alan Dean Foster

  “Something to study back on board ship,” he explained unnecessarily.

  McCoy offered his tricorder. “You could analyze it here.”

  The science officer straightened. “I have much on my mind, Doctor. Examining this will provide a welcome diversion.”

  Kirk was ignoring both of them. Instead, he was squinting at something on the other side of the river. “Speaking of diversions, gentlemen, one appears to be coming our way.”

  Turning, his subordinates joined him in examining the smooth-surfaced watercourse.

  At least, the majority of it was smooth surfaced. The part that was not was presently a scene of considerable commotion. Having unfolded a small boat from the stores that had thus far been shuttled down from the Eparthaa, a trio of Perenoreans had crossed the river to explore the opposite bank. They had been joined by a couple of SiBoronaans. Now the five of them were expending a considerable amount of energy in their haste to get back, the craft’s waterjet engine working at maximum thrust.

  Speed was necessary because the creature that was currently in pursuit was larger than all five of them put together, plus their boat. Wide and flattened of body, it looked like a giant river stone, albeit one covered with protrusions, bumps, and warts. In comparison to its body, its eyes were small and set low on the sides of its skull. Additional bony protrusions covered its head and the short double tail. Six legs provided excellent locomotion in the water. The broad, horizontal mouth in which rows of interlocking triangular brown teeth were clearly visible, and from which the occasional reverberant bellow emerged, was just about wide enough to swallow the boat and its frantic occupants in one gulp.

  “It would seem,” Spock observed with his usual calm, “that this scouting party has disturbed an example of the local fauna.”

  McCoy had already begun to back up. “As usual, Spock, your powers of understatement are unmatched.” He glanced at Kirk. “Jim, I don’t suppose you brought a phaser with you?”

  Kirk was likewise retreating. “Why? Carrying phasers among peaceful colonists and friendly locals would only make us look aggressive. Besides”—he was moving faster now—“it was assumed the SiBoronaans knew all about their moon and would warn us of any danger.”

  Spock had not started to join his companions in quickly retracing their steps. “It would appear, Captain, that in that regard they may be guilty of an oversight.”

  “Oversight?” McCoy was openly aghast. “How do you overlook a carnivore that’s bigger than a shuttlecraft?”

  “We’ll ask our hosts,” Kirk commented. “Later. Spock, we need to get out of here.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Captain.”

  “Spock, come on!” In the face of the very real oncoming danger McCoy had set aside his teasing sarcasm. “You can analyze this later—from the images.”

  Instead of joining them the science officer had begun to move in the opposite direction. “Go with the captain, Doctor. I have to stay and try to help my fellow refugees and their hosts.”

  The boat was nearly on shore and Spock was now running to meet it. Behind the scouting party the wailing DiBoronaan carnivore had closed the gap and was now kicking its way across the river gravel as much as it was swimming. As soon as its massive, pillar-like legs got a purchase on the rocky bottom it would be able to shrink the distance between itself and its prey even faster.

  Kirk and his companions were not the only ones who had taken notice of the chase. On the bluff above the beach both SiBoronaans and Perenoreans had gathered to watch. Individuals of both species were pointing and gesturing. A couple of SiBoronaans had brought forth primitive projectile weapons and were firing at the rampaging predator. Most of their shots missed. The few that did strike home only served to increase the determination of the thrashing predator.

  Kirk and McCoy caught up to the science officer. “Interesting,” Spock observed serenely as they neared the rapidly approaching boat.

  “ ‘Interesting’?” McCoy gaped at his fellow officer. “What’ll be damned ‘interesting’ is if we don’t get our backsides out of here before that monster gets onshore!”

  “What’s interesting, Spock?” a less panicky Kirk inquired.

  Turning, the Vulcan shaded his eyes as he looked up and back to scrutinize the edge of the bluff above them. The two SiBoronaans who had been firing at the oncoming carnivore had been joined by a third.

  “Our SiBoronaan hosts have brought weapons with them. Either they harbor secret fears of us or their new neighbors, or it clearly implies that they were aware of the presence of dangerous fauna on this moon. Yet when discussion of permitting the Perenoreans to settle here was ongoing, such potentially hostile obstacles to development and exploitation were never mentioned.” He glanced at McCoy. “In one of our many conversations I believe you once delineated a human term for this sort of thing, Doctor.”

  “What? I never…” The doctor’s voice trailed away into thoughtfulness. “Oh. I see what you’re getting at, Spock.” He began to nod knowingly. “ ‘Horse trading.’ ”

  The science officer turned back to face the water’s edge. “We now have another and perhaps overriding reason why the SiBoronaans have not settled their very habitable large moon. It is not because they are technologically incapable of doing so. Nor do they necessarily lack the will or the desire. It is because the local life-forms may be too much for them to handle.” He pointed toward the incoming watercraft and its increasingly frantic passengers. “As a species, the SiBoronaans are physically very stable—but also quite slow moving. Even a casual predator would be able to run them down.”

  Kirk had no trouble following the argument. “I get it. So they invite the Perenoreans to settle here in the hope that the colonists will bear the brunt of dealing with dangerous local fauna. Following which the SiBoronaans can start putting up settlements of their own while the Perenoreans do the dirty work.” His expression was taut. “Sounds like we may have been underestimating the ambition of our hosts.”

  Spock had started forward again. “If we do not do something soon, there will be two less of them, Captain, and three fewer colonists…”

  McCoy hung back, spreading his hands. “We’re unarmed, Spock! What can we do? By the time Mister Scott could get a sufficient fix to beam all of us out of here that moving mountain will be on top of us!”

  “I suspect that this particular large predator buries itself in the ground, perhaps in the softer sand and soil along the riverfront, and waits for prey to come its way. If you will notice, its dorsal side is a perfect analog of rocks and soil. A most excellent example of offensive camouflage.”

  “Yeah, well, right now all I can see is its teeth.” Muttering to himself, McCoy remained with his colleagues.

  Propelled by its waterjet, the folding Perenorean boat scooted up on shore before being brought to a halt as the weight of its passengers caused its convex hull to dig into the sand. Immediately the sides of the craft folded down to allow those inside an easy exit. The Perenoreans moved quickly, but their SiBoronaan guides could not.

  Which was where Spock’s determination to lend assistance proved itself. With he and Kirk hefting one of the SiBoronaans between them and a puffing, steadily complaining McCoy and two of the Perenoreans picking up the other, they raced to get away from the beach. Beneath the lightweight fabric that wrapped around its pole-like body Kirk found the SiBoronaan unexpectedly heavy.

  They were just starting up the slope that led to the top of the bluff when the enormous, hulking carnivore erupted from the water and began lumbering up the beach after them.

  As McCoy glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes widened. “We’re not gonna make it, Jim! The damn thing’s too fast!”

  “Courage, Doctor.” Across from his friends, Spock was all but pulling the two assisting Perenoreans along with him in addition to carrying the bulk of the SiBoronaan’s weight.

  This time, however, McCoy was right: if they maintained their current pace they were not going
to make it. As the wide, stocky head of the predator loomed over them and started to descend, they were forced to abandon the two SiBoronaans and dart sideways to avoid the downward plunge of the massive skull. The broad mouth opened wide, and teeth like worn saw blades descended.

  Propelled by their broad spray of pseudopods, the SiBoronaans could not move faster than a brisk walk at best. But their tall cylindrical bodies did permit them to roll rapidly. Tucking in their eye flaps and single multidigited limb, the two scouts did just that. The carnivore’s massive jaws slammed into the beach where prey had stood only a moment earlier. Raising its mouth and spitting out sand and gravel, the monster made a deep grunting noise like an antique combustion engine unable to turn over. As it slung its head from side to side it continued to spit out the remnants of its unpalatable mouthful.

  Brave intentions could only do so much, Kirk reflected as he scrambled for higher ground. McCoy was right behind him. Even Spock saw the futility of trying to stand and fight the thundering killer. Having expelled the last bit of inadvertently gulped ground, the predator looked to its left. One of the SiBoronaans had just struggled back to an upright stance. With the bluff on one side and the predator on the other, it had no room to roll free a second time and did not possess a tenth of the speed necessary to flee. Growling, the monster took a multilegged step toward it. At least, Kirk thought, they might be able to save the other guide.

  Something liquid arced in a tight narrow stream from the bluff above. It looked like a gush of melted marshmallow. From the slightly off-white color Kirk recognized it as the same material that encased not only Perenorean equipment but much of the interior of their starship as well. It splattered against the monster’s face, giving it pause as the terrified SiBoronaan scuttled away in a futile attempt to get clear. Kirk realized what was happening as a second stream from overhead joined the first. The Perenorean engineers had turned the nozzles of two of their unique foam devices onto the predator.

  Hardening on contact with the air, the white stuff slowed the huge carnivore almost immediately. Bellowing and roaring, it struggled furiously beneath the twin spew of rapidly solidifying construction and insulation material. Whatever its composition, the white goo was not strong enough to permanently restrain the monster. As soon as a segment of the flow hardened, a mighty twist or angry kick shattered the material into snow-like shards. But the continuous jets of white did more than slow its movements. More importantly they also served to distract the predator while a cluster of fast-moving Perenoreans dashed down the slope, picked up the remaining SiBoronaan, and carried him to safety atop the bluff.

  It seemed that their valiant and selfless effort was only a temporary reprieve. Bursting completely free of its hardening white bonds, the predator started upward in pursuit of its stolen prey, following a wider and gentler ascendable slope than the one taken by the retreating Starfleet officers. Once it got atop the bluff, there was nothing to stop it from wreaking havoc among the incipient colony. Shouts and whistles, clicks and hoots from the vicinity of the construction site had begun to fill the air.

  Having reached the near side of the settlement Kirk debated whether or not to hail Scott to use the ship’s phasers, but it would be hard to target just the predator. Or Scott could beam down phaser rifles, maybe with enough firepower that they could blast the lumbering carnivore into nodule-ridden cutlets. The only thing that caused him to hesitate was where the weapons could be beamed down, and in the meantime there was no telling how many of the colonists and their SiBoronaan hosts would die. Even so, that course of action seemed the best option out of a continuously shrinking number of bad ones.

  Kirk had his communicator out and was preparing to make the request when a pair of Perenoreans appeared in front of the ascending carnivore. As it was about to crest the top of the bluff, from which other colonists and SiBoronaans had fled, the two refugees halted. One was carrying something long, slim, and tubular on a shoulder. As he knelt, his companion bent to make some sort of adjustments to the large oval shape at its terminus.

  The monster put first one thudding foot pad over the rim of the bluff, then another. As it did so something tiny and bright flashed from the end of the cylindrical device resting on the Perenorean’s shoulder. The second Perenorean had stepped to one side and out of the way. The blast of light that emerged from the oval opening of the tube shot in front of her.

  The dart that had been fired by the kneeling Perenorean struck the predator, barely finding a purchase on the thick skin. As the tube wielder rose and started to retreat, a second bright flash came from the place where the dart had hit. A shudder ran through the monster from its jaws to the tips of both tails. Slowly, ponderously, like a gigantic boulder coming to rest at the bottom of a hill, its six legs folded beneath it. Without taking another step it came to rest where it had fallen. With the bulk of its mass still lying over the rim of the bluff, it began to slowly slide backward. Rushing to the edge, Kirk and his colleagues looked on as the carnivore slid down to the beach, creating a small landslide with it.

  When it had been struck by the dart the creature had not made a sound. The weapon had only crackled twice: once when fired and once when the embedded dart had done—what?

  “Quietest kill I ever saw.” McCoy wore a look of awe. “Except for the little bang when the dart went off it’s almost as if it just went to sleep.”

  As other anxious Perenoreans and SiBoronaans moved to help the exhausted scouts, the Enterprise officers confronted the pair of colonists who had intervened so decisively. The Perenoreans, one male and one female, made no effort to conceal the device they had employed, and answered questions freely.

  “It is something we have among our supplies,” the female explained without hesitation. “We could hardly be certain that the world upon which we settled would be wholly free of inimical life-forms.” Multidigited hands and double-jointed arms gestured across the river. “It is just that we had none ready when the scouting group was attacked. They did not take the device with them on their expedition because we were not warned that dangerous life-forms would be present here.”

  “Yeah, our agreeable hosts, the SiBoronaans, neglected to mention that little fact to us too,” a perspiring McCoy said.

  “No matter,” she declared cheerfully. “The incident, like the predator, has been put to rest.”

  Spock was examining the long, oval-tipped tube. “I am curious to know exactly how such a large and powerful carnivore, about which your people knew nothing, and have never before encountered, was so effectively ‘put to rest.’ I heard only a small detonation.”

  The male Perenorean who had fired the weapon was eager to explain. Yet again Kirk was struck by their willingness to share their own knowledge, no matter how potentially sensitive. Was nothing held back? Did the Perenoreans even have a word in their language for “secrecy”?

  “The lagarouth fires a projectile that contains a powerful electric charge. A lethally flexible battery, your kind might say. The projectile is connected to the lagarouth, at the rounded end of the device”—the Perenorean did not say weapon, Spock noted—“which holds a more powerful charge. As soon as it penetrates a target, the projectile performs an instant analysis of the subject’s neurology and delivers enough of a jolt to paralyze the nervous system and stop its heart. If the charge carried by the projectile is insufficient to accomplish this, it can draw upon the greater charge stored in the end of the lagarouth. Linear broadcasting of energy permits transfer of sufficient power to carry out the termination.” He bobbed his head slightly; a sign of deference mixed with politeness. “It is not the use we prefer to put our technology to. But our species’ experience has shown that colonists must expect to occasionally encounter native life-forms that cannot always be persuaded by reason.”

  Spock nodded knowingly. “A situation in which I find my own self more often than I would like.”

  “Right,” commented McCoy, “except that when you’re about to lose an argument you don�
�t respond by electrocuting your debate partner.”

  An eyebrow lifted. “That is true, Doctor. I confess that on occasion the desire to do so has manifested itself.”

  Kirk was studying the motionless bulk of the monster. “A clean, quick, and comparatively painless death.” He turned back to the pair of Perenoreans. “I continue to be impressed by your people’s efficiency. Maybe one of these days you can even give us some pointers.”

  “Pointers?” The female Perenorean was stumped.

  “Instruction. Suggestions.” Kirk smiled as he explained. For some odd reason he felt gratified that the supple alien could not perfectly comprehend the meaning of what he had said.

  “Ah.” She looked away. “I do not think that either I or any of my fellow colonists would presume to offer correction or instruction to those who saved us from the Dre’kalak and succeeded in helping us to secure our new home.”

  “But you are happy to answer questions if they are asked.” Spock indicated the lagarouth. “Such as when we inquired about the operation of your weapon.”

  “It is not a weapon.” The male Perenorean was quick to correct the science officer. “It is a tool whose use is sometimes regrettably necessary to ensure that a settlement is safe.” Holding the long metal—or was it metal, Kirk wondered as he saw it close up—tube with both seven-fingered hands, the shooter offered it to Spock. “Would you like to inspect the interior? I would welcome your observations on its engineering and construction.”

  Spock demurred. “Perhaps another time.” His attention shifted to the other side of the river. “Given the recent dramatic encounter and the apparent reticence of the SiBoronaans to go into detail about the local life-forms, I suspect you may have need of it again soon. It will be decidedly useless to you if it is lying in pieces on a table somewhere.”