Planetary Parlay

by Cameron Cooper

  The other four parawolves raced after her, the five of them loping across the land in near perfect formation.

  “Darb, come back!” Dalton cried.

  “You haven’t got a hope of getting him to come back, now,” Jai told him. “Let them go. They’ll return when they’re ready, then they’ll be ready to feed.”

  I’d seen a carcass of a large mammal being placed in the storage section behind the bulkhead as we boarded. It would be something domestic, I knew. Perhaps a cow? I’d seen pictures of them before but wasn’t certain if this was one or not. I only knew that steaks came from cows—real steaks, not printed ones, but that was all. But the size of it was pleasing. The parawolves would be able to gorge very happily on that thing.

  “What if they come across something bigger and nastier than them, out there?” Lyth asked. He shaded his eyes as he watched the wolves heading for the horizon.

  “Nastier than five parawolf siblings?” I asked him.

  He grimaced. “Okay, I guess.”

  One of the Terrans gabbled something.

  “He says that they can monitor the wolves from a satellite and make sure they do not go anywhere dangerous,” Slate said.

  I kept my mouth closed. The parawolves had trackers in them, just as we all did, but that wasn’t something I wanted the Terrans to know.

  “I’m surprised they’re not freaking out at having parawolves running all over their museum,” Gratia Rosalie murmured, peering after the wolves.

  “That’s because I emphasized they needed to run, or they would get out of hand,” I told her. “I might have exaggerated a bit.”

  “Not by much,” Marlow growled, for he had to live with Coal’s quirks, too.

  Dalton was shading his eyes but studying the land nearly directly north of us. “Those hills look almost…regular. See them?”

  Trust Dalton to get curious about some lump of earth and rocks. “Baller,” I told him.

  He didn’t answer the usual way. Instead, he turned to Slate. “Could you ask them what those hills are, over there?”

  A four-way discussion took place between the pilot, the Terran who had supplied us with the lunch boxes, and the Terran who’d stayed in the cargo section, and Slate.

  Slate said to Dalton, “They don’t know what they might be. Just hills, they think. But my records show there was a human settlement near here, before the Terrans departed. It is possible human remains have lingered this long, although there would be very little left, now.”

  “Enough to form regular hills,” Dalton said, peering at them. “I’m going to check them out.” He strode toward them, not looking back.

  “Me, too,” Mace said, hurrying after him, his pad in one hand.

  “Wait!” Yoan cried and jogged after them.

  I didn’t try to chase them. I had no interest in kicking at hills. Instead, I turned to studying the horizon once more.

  “All this land was cultivated, once,” Slate said, beside me.

  “All of it?”

  “Across this entire continent, except for tiny areas they called preserves.”

  “I can’t even imagine people living everywhere. No wonder the atmosphere became endangered.” I settled in the grass and crossed my legs.

  “Are you…to remain here?” Slate asked delicately.

  “Yep. I just want to sit and not think. Just for a while.”

  Slate stood by my side as I watched the day lengthen, until someone called his name, and he went to them to translate something or other. I saw Arati Georgeson sit in the grass just as I was. He raised his hand and ran his palm over the tips of the stalks, a look of wonder in his eyes. Then he raised his pad and captured footage of the view.

  I turned my face up to the rising sun and closed my eyes. I placed my hand upon the earth beside me, feeling a surreal connection to the humans who had once lived here. For once, the breeze didn’t bother me. Absurdly, it felt…normal.

  —24—

  Neither humans nor parawolves returned for another three hours. By that time, the sun was climbing toward midday, but no one was in a hurry to send out search parties or raise the alarm. Not just yet. Mace had been carrying a pad, and nearly everyone who remained by the shuttle had pads, too. Lyssa could reach me. She would be watching over Dalton and the others and probably tracking the parawolves, too.

  Once we’d got over our initial awe, we truly relaxed. Some even dozed. Even Keskemeti looked mellow, and he had been wound up like a capacitor since he’d stepped onto the Lythion.

  I couldn’t let down my guard quite enough to sleep, but I could feel a great deal of the tension which had been gnawing at me evaporate. Instead of stewing over issues and conflicts and unanswered questions, I was left with the intellectual challenge of finding answers to mysteries, including where Marlee Colton had gone. I wasn’t yet ready to cry foul on that—she might have been so offended by Rayhel’s reaction to her Xavien status that she’d headed out into the wilderness to get away from everything. I wouldn’t blame her for that at all. But her return would be my priority when I got back to the parliamentary palace.

  My understanding of the power structure within the Assembly and the Terrans in general was growing rapidly, but the more I learned, the more complicated it became...and the more confusing it grew.

  And why had we been refused access to the wreck of the Success, when Isuma Florina herself had said we could visit it?

  Seong still looked very unhappy every time I looked at him, and Keskemeti was still being mysina enough to make me want to strangle him. And maybe I might have to, if he pulled another stupid stunt while we were on Terra. Slate had indicated that such people were beyond redemption. If I couldn’t make Keskemeti see sense, then it left me with few other options.

  One of the reasons I was feeling so free of tension was because there were no Drigu around us, hovering and anticipating. We had to accept their services—Jai had been right about that—but every time I asked Kamil to fetch something or do something that I couldn’t do for myself, I felt a dull ache of frustration and guilt.

  For those few hours on the plains, I could let everything go and just breathe.

  When Dalton and the others returned, looking tired but happy, the Terrans handed out another set of boxes. It was finger food again, but not sandwiches. An array of vegetables and slices of dried meat, with a dipping sauce. Bottles of flavored water came with it. It was delicious. The Terrans were very careful about making sure that anything dropped was retrieved, even food scraps.

  Afterward, there was coffee, poured from vacuum flasks.

  Dalton sat beside me as we ate and told me about the hills they’d explored. “There were hundreds of them, Danny. It’s hard to tell, standing at ground level, but I think they’re laid out in grids, like the ancient cities used to be.”

  “Maybe we can get the Terrans to circle over the area when we head back.”

  “I’ve already asked Lyssa for a set of scans.” He paused. “Her and Mace are…close.”

  I raised a brow. “Huh.” I tried to sound surprised. At the same time, I found myself looking for Yoan. “How do you feel about that?” I asked Dalton and pointed at my ear to remind him that Lyssa might be listening right now…and she was most certainly recording this.

  “I’ll let you know.” He drained the last of his water. “Although, I look at Lyth and Juliyana and figure it was almost inevitable.”

  Yoan was sitting with Sauli and Kristiana, and I could tell by the way he was moving his hands that he was describing the buildings they’d explored. They all looked happy and relaxed.

  “Maybe not quite inevitable,” I murmured. I nodded a little.

  Dalton swiveled to take in Yoan and his parents. “Huh,” he said, using the same tone as me.

  That was all we dared say right then.

  From the top of the shuttle, one of the Terrans shouted and pointed toward the horizon.

  I sat up. “They’re back. Good.”

  The other two Terrans
opened up the cargo section of the shuttle and hauled out the carcass. They carried it out onto the grass and dropped it.

  I got to my feet. “Everyone should back off,” I warned them. “Give the parawolves plenty of room, or they might think you’re trying to take their food.”

  “They really do revert to primitive instincts when they’re eating?” Elizabeth Crnčević asked, her tone one of professional curiosity.

  “Slate, tell the Terrans to move well back,” I called and said to Elizabeth, “You’ll understand, once you watch them eat.”

  We all gathered beside the shuttle and watched the five wolves approach across the plain. I knew the moment they’d caught the scent of the carcass, for they changed the angle of their approach.

  “Stars, they’ve disappeared right into the grass,” Peter Kole murmured.

  “They’re running with their bellies down low,” Sauli told her.

  “Hunting,” Peter concluded.

  The parawolves fell upon the carcass, tearing it apart with savage growls, their chops dripping with saliva and their eyes rolling. They tore chunks of meat off and swallowed them whole, then leapt for more. Blood splattered the earth and the grass.

  Elizabeth turned away after a while.

  The Terrans all stood on top of the shuttle, watching the wolves eat with their eyes very wide. I guessed they wouldn’t be coaxed back to the ground until the wolves were finished eating.

  I was right. Dalton, Jai, Lyth and Sauli and I worked together to stow what was left of the carcass back in the container in the cargo area, while our wolves lolled on the grass, sleepy and contented, licking themselves clean. The early afternoon sun was pleasantly warm, for them, too.

  I let the wolves lie for a while and noticed that I was weary with more than just mellow relaxation. “What time is it back at the island, Slate?”

  “Dinner is about to be served in the main hall,” Slate said. “If we leave now, we will return an hour after its scheduled conclusion.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “Shall we head back, people?”

  Thick silence was my answer.

  Then Jai stood and stretched. “Yes, it’s time,” he declared. “Let’s finish this.”

  —25—

  I actually slept well, that night. Dalton, too. I rose the next morning, determined to make a nuisance of myself to every Terran I came across until I had some answers about Colton’s whereabouts, or was offered resources—a shuttle would be nice—to go out and find her myself.

  But that got shelved the moment I reached the common room. Everyone who was already up, which was most of them, was gathered around Slate, peering at his chest.

  The Drigu, including Kamil, were once more trying to hug the walls, only the chairs were in the way. They grouped at the corners, instead. They weren’t staring at us Carinads with blank expressions, this time. Instead, they were staring at the parawolves, horror in their eyes.

  Vara was curled up in an armchair, sound asleep. Coal was beside her in the next chair.

  Yeah, they looked terrifying.

  Puzzled, I went over to Slate and tried to peer around heads and see what had caught everyone’s attention.

  His chest was emitting a screen—or maybe it was just displaying images, and the screen was permanent. I’d never seen any indication that Terrans knew how to create a screen with emitted molecules.

  Not long after we’d first encountered the Terrans, we’d intercepted one of their domestic broadcasts, one in which they’d done a propaganda hatchet job upon me and the Lythion, showing us as ruthless aggressors hunting down and destroying the Grace to the Humble. The doctored images had included a stream of Terran ideographs running down the side.

  This was the same type of broadcast, with ideograms running down both sides of the screen. But it wasn’t showing the Lythion, this time, for Lyssa was still parked in orbit over our heads. To the Terrans, if they cared to scan her, it would look as though the ship was utterly empty and harmless.

  The images, this time, were far more damming. I watched Vara and Darb, Coal, Venni and Hero streaking across the grasslands we’d visited yesterday, all of them trialing saliva as they ran, their mouths showing red gums and white teeth, as they chased after a slow moving creature—a mammal. Not a cow, but something about that size, with a hump on its back and huge horns. Its hide was shaggy with brown and white and orange fur and its large brown eyes were rolling with fear as it tried to elude the five wolves.

  I watched, horrified, as the wolves nipped and bit at the creature, until one of them—Venni—grabbed it by the throat. Blood sprayed and the creature sagged to its knees. The wolves closed in, tearing it apart even as its feet kicked.

  I put my hand over my mouth, sickness raging through me.

  Peter Kole turned to me. Her face was white. “They came back and ate the carcass after that? Danny, you know how bad this looks?”

  I took my hand away. “That’s what’s making me feel sick,” I assured her. “They didn’t do that, Peter.” I pointed at Slate’s chest. “Vara would have told me, if they’d already hunted.”

  “Maybe she was too busy with her second meal.” Peter’s tone was chilly.

  “No. The parawolves are used to coming to us for food. They knew there would be a carcass waiting for them. And they wouldn’t know that thing was edible, anyway.”

  Peter considered me. By the movement of her jaw, I could tell she was outraged, ready to tear someone apart over this, but she was controlling it. And she was listening. That took a rare self-control.

  “I’m telling you, someone created this imagery,” I told her. “It’s not the first time Terrans have manufactured bullshit like this, either.”

  Peter nodded, absorbing it. “You understand how badly this will set back things at the negotiation table, don’t you?”

  “I tell you, they didn’t do this!” My voice was rising, because yeah, I knew exactly how this was going to screw up everything. But all I could do was cling to the truth. “You saw the wolves when they got back. They were clean. No blood, no lethargy from having just eaten a whole other cow. They ripped into the carcass like they were hungry.”

  Peter nodded again. She drew in a breath, let it out slowly. “Yes, I remember,” she said quietly. “And I remember they ran with their bellies down low when they detected the carcasses, which they’re not doing in the video. But I don’t think it matters. Look.” She pointed over my shoulder.

  I turned back to look at the screen on Slate’s chest once more. This time I saw a city street and a mob, screaming, waving their hands and placards with more Terran script. A narrator was babbling over the top of them, sounding excited, too.

  “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a protest over our insult to Terra,” Peter said softly. “No one will believe the footage is faked. No one cares that the footage is faked. And all we can do is say we’re sorry. Worse, we have to say it via translators I don’t trust.”

  I looked at her, appalled. “But, this is fiction!”

  “It’s fiction that makes sense, which makes it impossible to counter,” Peter replied. She sighed. “I have to get ready for the negotiations and talk to Jai and…” She moved past me, trialing a cloud of disappointment and frustration.

  Lyth was staring at the broadcast displaying on Slate’s chest with a peculiar intensity I recognized. I moved over to him. “What is it?”

  Lyth glanced at me, then returned his attention to the screen. “One, they have very sophisticated imagery manipulation techniques. Even though I know a dozen reasons that tell me that is faked—” He nodded toward the screen, where they were running the video of the wolves running down the woolly thing again. “—I look at it and I’m still convinced it’s quite real. Two, the Terrans are clearly tracking us everywhere we go. Everywhere, Danny, including places where we think we’re alone.”

  “Including in here,” I said, with a nod. “We always knew that was a possibility, even before we got here.”

  “An
d now we have confirmation. They must have used partial angles and images of the wolves and knitted them together, and in only a matter of hours, too, because the video has been out there long enough for Terrans to organize into protest rallies.”

  “Is there a three?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It’s a broadcast, Danny. If they can send out fake news on a broadcast channel, then…” I saw the paranoia slide over his face. He leaned toward me and murmured in my ear, “We can do it, too.”

  I nodded. “I must eat. Those biscuits you were asking about are in the bottom crate, two out from the wall.”

  Lyth didn’t blink. “Thanks!”

  I went back to our room and changed. I had to ask Kamil to leave. This morning I couldn’t cope with her being in the room. Dalton had already banished Diomedes to the common room at all times. I got dressed, deep in thought.

  It was likely the protests over us being on Terra would hijack the negotiations this morning, along with everyone’s attention. If I was going to get anywhere finding Marlee Colton, I needed to get in early.

  “Heading out already?” Dalton asked, as I dropped the knife that lived down the back of my shirt in behind the collar.

  “I’m going to break a few arms, see if I can’t get a lead on Colton.”

  He nodded. “Need help?”

  “I was going to ask Calpurnia to help me.”

  He smiled. “She’ll appreciate that.”

  —26—

  Calpurnia looked almost pathetically grateful when I suggested she come along with me to stir the Terrans into looking for Colton. She put her breakfast plate aside and rose to her feet, most of the sticky roll still on it. I looked at the plate with longing, but I didn’t want to wait a moment longer, either.

  “Slate, I’m sorry, I’ll need you, too,” I told the android.

  He immediately shut off the screen on his chest and stirred from the corner. Protests sounded around the room.

  “Ask Lyth to rig a broadcast receiver, then,” I told them. “There are screen emitters in one of the crates. You could be watching on your own individual screens, instead of peering at a ten centimeter one, all the way across the room.”