Planet of Death

by Robert Silverberg

  Right now the Captain looked like a man who took his job very seriously. More seriously than anything else in the world. His face was hard and cold. He gave Crawford a long, chilly look before he spoke.

  Then he said, “Markham, you haven’t been with this team very long. So I can forgive you for what you just said. But I’m shocked to hear a member of the Exploration Corps talk that way. Especially an ecologist. Or somebody who claims to be an ecologist.”

  Crawford wished more than ever that he hadn’t said anything. He said, “Sir, I —”

  Hendrin cut him off. “Quiet! Markham, you ought to know our basic rule. Once an Exploration Corps ship lands on a planet, it stays there until its job is done. It doesn’t pull up and quit five minutes after it lands. We can’t be sure that this planet is unfit for colonists until we’ve taken a good look.”

  Crawford felt about three inches high.

  The Captain went on, “I’ve operated that way for thirteen years, and I’ll keep on operating that way.” His voice lashed like a whip. He turned to the other men of the exploration team. “Is there anybody else who feels like leaving this planet now?”

  No one spoke.

  Embarrassed, Crawford looked down at the floor. He had been wrong to say what he had said. No true Exploration Corpsman would have said it — no matter how close he had come to being eaten alive.

  But Crawford wasn’t a true Exploration Corpsman. That was the whole trouble. He didn’t have a scientist’s hunger for knowledge.

  He was just a hunter who was escaping from a phony murder rap. He had come on this ship because it was his only chance to escape jail. As a hunter, he liked adventure more than most men. But he also knew that some kinds of adventure were just too risky.

  Like the adventure that this planet offered.

  For a moment, Crawford felt like telling the truth about himself to Captain Hendrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The Captain would be shocked and angered. Crawford didn’t want to let everyone know that he was a liar and a criminal. At least, a criminal in the eyes of Velliran.

  So he was going to have to keep on pretending to be a scientist. And that meant staying on World Seven of Star System Z-16 until Captain Hendrin was ready to leave.

  Well, it might be exciting, Crawford thought. If we don’t all get eaten alive the first day. He said in a humble voice, “I’m sorry I brought the subject up, Captain. It’s just that I was shaken up by the sudden attack. My nerves —”

  “Okay, Markham,” the Captain said. His voice was harsh but sympathetic. “I understand. You had a hard time out there. But no more talking of leaving here until our job is done!”

  Crawford forced himself to smile. “Right, Captain!”

  But he looked toward that jungle full of hungry monsters again. Maybe he wondered whether he would have been better off back on Velliran.

  The Captain said, “We’ll start full exploration of World Seven in an hour. Right after we’ve had a few briefing sessions. And after we’ve chosen the teams.”

  The Captain divided the group up into two-man teams. Each team would go out in a different direction to give the planet a thorough going-over.

  The luckiest man was Murray, the map-maker. He wouldn’t have to set foot in the deadly jungle at all. Map-making was done from the air. The ship carried a tiny helicopter. Murray would fly it high over the jungles, taking photographs. Later he would use those photographs for making his maps.

  He wouldn’t meet any jungle beasts a thousand feet in the air. He’d be safe from monsters. Crawford hoped that he would be picked to fly with Murray. But Chung, the geologist, was given that assignment.

  Since Crawford was going to have to explore on land, he found himeif wishing he’d be paired with Bartlett, then. Bartlett, the anthropologist, was a big, strong man. He looked like he could handle himself in any kind of trouble.

  But Bartlett was teamed with Grover, the botanist.

  Crawford got teamed with Lazenby instead. He wasn’t too happy about that. The little biologist was a friendly fellow, all right. But he didn’t have much in the way of muscle. He wasn’t the type who would be much use in the jungle. Crawford was afraid that he’d spend half his time rescuing Lazenby from danger.

  He had to go along with the teaming, though. He had already done enough grumbling for one day.

  “Ready?” Lazenby asked him.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Crawford answered.

  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to go out there again,” said Lazenby. “Not after what happened to you the first time. But it’s our job. We don’t expect Exploration Corps work to be a picnic.”

  “No, sir,” Crawford agreed, not very cheerfully. “Well, let’s go.”

  They rode down the ship’s elevator together. All too quickly they were out of the ship and on the ground, standing in the purplish grass.

  Crawford had been a hunter since he was twelve years old. He had never been afraid of a forest before. He had always been sure he could look after himself, no matter what happened.

  But this planet was different, somehow. That was a lesson he had learned the hard way — and fast. This was a planet of monsters. Death might hide behind any tree.

  This time, before getting more than a step away from the ship, Crawford looked around. He stared in all directions. He wasn’t taking any chances.

  The coast was clear, though.

  “Come on,” he said to Lazenby. “There’s no trouble in sight.”

  They edged forward toward the jungle. Scientific equipment was heavy on their backs. They had bottles for catching things in, and notebooks for jotting down what they saw. They were also well armed. They were carrying blast-guns for close action, and needle-guns for long-range shooting.

  The thick wall of dark green leaves was just ahead of them. Suddenly there came a cry from the jungle. A harsh, croaking cry of pain.

  “Did you hear that?” Lazenby asked.

  Crawford nodded. “A death cry. Something’s just eaten something else.”

  He thought he could hear other shrieks coming from the dark, mysterious jungle. He seemed to pick up the sounds of killing, the sounds of bloody feasting.

  He looked at Lazenby. Lazenby looked back at him. They both grinned. Neither of them looked very happy, though.

  They walked quickly forward into the jungle.

  Getting through the outer wall of the jungle was hard. Tangled vines were wrapped around every tree, and there were many low shrubs. But once they were inside, it was easier to move around. Within the jungle, little sunlight reached the ground. The growth of shrubs and vines was not so thick in here.

  The jungle was hot and damp. Thick wet dew covered everything. The shiny leaves were glistening and wet with little drops of dew. There was moisture on the tree trunks, on the ground, on the rocks. And very quickly the two Earthmen were dripping wet, too.

  Crawford glanced at his watch as they entered the jungle. The plan was to cover as much ground as they could in an hour’s time. Then they were to return to the ship and give their reports.

  He kept his ears open for trouble. He knew that this jungle was full of strange and probably dangerous creatures. He wanted to be ready for them.

  It didn’t take long before trouble arrived.

  They had been moving carefully through the jungle for about five minutes. Lazenby had come to a tiny pond. He knelt beside it, scooping up a sample of its water. Later, back at the ship, he would put the water under his microscope. He would see what sort of bacteria and other germs this planet had.

  Crawford kept watch while Lazenby filled his collecting bottle and put a label on it. Suddenly he said, “Better look sharp. Something’s coming.”

  “Where? I don’t hear anything.”

  “Listen carefully,” Crawford said.

  Lazenby stood up and cocked his ear. Then his mouth dropped open.

  The sound of thrashing vines and splintering saplings became very loud. And then, thundering to
ward them like a runaway express train, came an animal.

  “Watch out!” Crawford yelled. “It’ll run us over! Watch out!”

  CHAPTER 6

  JUNGLE OF NIGHTMARES

  Crawford acted just in time. He looped one arm around Lazenby’s middle and the other around the trunk of a thick, gnarled tree. Then he jumped. He leaped up into the crotch of the tree, taking Lazenby with him.

  “You spilled my water sample,” Lazenby complained.

  “Too bad. But look at that!”

  It was like a scene out of a nightmare. The huge beast smashed through the underbrush and ran toward them. It was a glossy brown creature about thirty feet long. It had four heavy legs that ended in big round flat feet. A long, thin neck stuck out at the front end, and a tail that was just as long and thin at the other end. It weighed at least ten tons. Even so, it was moving fast, crashing through the jungle.

  It had no head.

  There was nothing at the end of its neck but a jagged slashed place. Red spurts of blood were coming forth every time the beast’s heart beat. The animal was like a fountain of blood. The leaping jets of blood were staining the trees red.

  The animal was dead, and it was so dumb it didn’t know it yet. Some other jungle horror had bitten its head off. But even so, the headless beast was running madly through the jungle.

  “Let’s follow it,” Lazenby suggested. “It’s bound to drop dead soon. I’d like to get a close-up look at it once it’s dead.”

  Crawford shook his head. “I think we’d be better off staying up here a little while longer.”

  “But maybe we won’t be able to find the animal when it dies!” Lazenby objected.

  Crawford laughed. “Relax,” he said. “All we’ll have to do is follow that bloody trail. Our bulky friend is bound to be at the other end of it. But I’m in no hurry to climb down from here. I’ll bet the thing that took the head off that one will be along any minute. Let’s wait where it’s safe.”

  Crawford was right.

  The next animal that appeared was as graceful as a dancer. It came gliding through the forest with dainty, lively strides.

  But there was nothing dainty about it. It was ten feet high, standing upright on two slender legs. Two more limbs were tucked up beneath its throat. A mouth full of teeth like razors opened wide. It was dripping with blood.

  The graceful creature danced right past the two Earthmen hiding in the tree. It was in search of better meat.

  The headless beast that they had seen first was lying just up ahead. It had finally stumbled and fallen in the underbrush. But it didn’t seem to be completely dead even now. Its thick legs were kicking at the air.

  Crawford watched in horror as the toothy killer attacked. It dug its two little forepaws into the still quivering flesh of the fallen animal. Then it brought its teeth down for the first bite.

  It was the hungriest animal Crawford had ever seen. Ripping and tearing away, it began to feast.

  Somehow the sight made him angry. Crawford jumped down from the tree. He drew his blast-gun and pushed the firing stud back. Aiming it at the killer, Crawford fired a full beam of deadly energy.

  The skin of the killer animal glowed bright red. It began to sizzle and fry. But the animal didn’t seem to know anything had happened for at least five seconds.

  Then the pain got through to its dull brain. It reared up from its meal and turned around to attack Crawford.

  Crawford could hardly believe his eyes. He had given the beast enough blaster power to kill an elephant — and it still charged him!

  He continued to fire. The animal took three more steps. Then it fell. Its legs were burned away. It dropped to the jungle floor. Crawford kept the blaster trained on it until it stopped moving.

  He lowered his blaster. His throat felt hoarse. Crawford realized that he had been shouting like a madman while he fired.

  Moments later a thousand tiny creatures came hurrying out of nowhere. They crawled out from under rocks, down from the trees, up from the pond. They were insects and other small things, and they were coming to feed.

  They went to work on the two huge bodies of the jungle animals. A thousand little jaws began to snip away the flesh of the fallen beasts. The stink of death seemed to fill the whole jungle.

  Crawford turned around. Lazenby stood behind him. The small man’s eyes were wide with shock and horror.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” Lazenby said in a hushed voice.

  “The killer? Vicious beast, wasn’t he?”

  “No,” Lazenby whispered. He looked pale and uneasy. “I’m talking about you. You hardly looked human! You were screaming wildly while you killed that animal. You seemed to be enjoying yourself so much. If you could only have seen your own face — Markham, it was horrible!”

  “That animal was a killer,” Crawford said crisply. “I had to blast it.”

  “Why? It hadn’t attacked you.”

  That stopped Crawford completely. He didn’t have any answer for that.

  Lazenby said, “It had already killed its prey. Now it was eating. It didn’t threaten you at all. Your job was to make scientific observations as it ate. Not to haul out that blaster of yours and blaze away.”

  Once again Crawford felt completely foolish. Lazenby was right. He had let his hot head have its way again.

  Something in him had boiled over with rage at the sight of that killer animal. He didn’t know why it had happened. He had simply lost control of himself. It was the old trouble again, the hot temper that ran wild so easily.

  It was a poor way for a scientist to go about things. It was even a poor way for a hunter to conduct himself. It was stupid to get angry like that. A man can’t think straight when he’s angry. And it’s dangerous not to think straight. His temper had made problems for him too many times before.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I lost my temper. Something just went wild inside me and I had to fire at that thing. It was stupid of me.”

  “Stupid?” Lazenby replied hotly. “It was downright criminal! Ecologists are supposed to study life, not to destroy it! And when you were in no danger, you had no right to —”

  Lazenby didn’t finish what he was saying. A tree across the way reached out an arm and grabbed him. It lifted him high off the ground. - “Lazenby!” Crawford yelled.

  He looked up. A green ropy thing like a thick vine had wrapped itself around Lazenby’s waist. The biologist was now ten feet off the ground, and rising fast. His face was gray with fright.

  There was no way Lazenby could get loose. The rope-like part of the tree was wrapped three or four times around his waist. It was more than an inch thick.

  The top of the tree was whipping back and forth as if blown by the winds of a storm. Crawford stared at it. There was something strangely like a mouth up there at the top of the tree.

  A man-eating tree?

  “Help me!” Lazenby screamed. “Get me out of here! I’m choking! I — I —”

  Crawford drew his needle-gun. If he aimed just right, he might be able to cut Lazenby loose from the tree. But the biologist was wildly kicking and squirming. He was clawing at the green vine, trying to get himself free.

  “Hold still!” Crawford shouted. “I don’t want to hit you!”

  He fired above Lazenby’s head, at the vine. But he missed it. The vine wriggled like a giant green snake. The beam of Crawford’s needle-gun burned into the trunk of the tree instead.

  The tree shook with pain. Its branches whipped angrily back and forth.

  “Markham!” Lazenby cried. “Get me down!” He was coming closer and closer to the hungry mouth in the top of that tree.

  Crawford fired again. It was hard to see where to aim. By now Lazenby and the living rope that held him were well up in the leafy branches of the tree. But Crawford’s skill with a needle-gun was great. This time his beam nailed the vine perfectly and cut it in two.

  The tree shrieked.

  It was a high, loud scream of pain a
nd rage that could be heard all over the forest. The tree’s branches shook violently. Even the thick trunk seemed to writhe.

  Lazenby came tumbling down, bouncing from branch to branch. Crawford caught him and broke his fall. The burned-off vine was still wrapped around his waist. Lazenby’s face was wide-eyed with fright.

  “Here,” Crawford said. “Let me get that thing off you!”

  He tugged at the vine. It didn’t want to let go. Even though it was cut off from the tree, it clung tight to the biologist’s middle.

  Crawford managed to get about half of it uncoiled. It was hard work. He was sweating and breathing hard. He stopped for a moment to rest.

  At once the thick vine wrapped itself around Lazenby again.

  Lazenby grunted in pain. Crawford muttered some angry words. The longer he stood there wrestling with this tree-rope, the more chance there was that some hungry beast would come along and surprise them. Or that another tree would reach out an “arm” the way the first one had.

  Gritting his teeth, Crawford grabbed the upper end of the rope and pulled. Hard. He yanked with all his strength and tugged it free. Lazenby went spinning like a top as the sturdy vine came off.

  Crawford tossed it far to one side. Even then, it continued to coil and twist like a snake.

  Lazenby rubbed his stomach. “I’m going to be sore for a week!”

  “You’re lucky to get out of it with nothing more than some bruised ribs, friend. You almost got eaten!”

  “Is that what was happening?”

  Crawford pointed toward the tree. It looked perfectly harmless now. It wasn’t moving at all. “You see up there, in the branches on top? I saw a mouth open in there. Another minute and you would have been shoved inside.”

  “Eaten by a tree!” Lazenby shuddered. “What a place this is!”

  They looked at the tree. It was hard to believe that it could attack a man. Right now it looked just like any other tree.

  But that was a trap, Crawford knew. The tree remained still until it saw a chance to get a meal. Then one of those vines went into action, grabbing something tasty and pulling it up toward the waiting mouth.