“I am nobody’s representative,” he retorted, leaving them to ponder exactly what he meant by that. Let them continue to wonder if he was operating alone, or if others awaited his imminent return. “You’ll be all right in there until the timer lets you out.” He smiled thinly. “You can spend the time contemplating the wonder of your discovery. But before that, you need to tell me exactly where the outburst from the transmitter was directed. To satisfy my curiosity.” He managed an appropriate gesture that was not too badly mishandled. “You owe me that much for saving your lives, and for continuing to spare them.”
“We owe you nothing. Why sshould we tell you anything?” Tenukac hissed and gestured defiance.
Flinx raised the muzzle of the small weapon. “Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot one of you.”
“Which one?” the male inquired. A human would have been horrified by Tenukac’s response, but neither of the researchers blanched at the comment. It was a perfectly natural AAnn response.
“Both of you. A little at a time.” He would never do any such thing, Flinx knew, but since they seemed ready to believe the worst of any human, he saw no reason to dissuade them from that opinion. Not while it might prove useful. In any event, he was acting exactly as an AAnn operative would have if placed in the same situation.
Having run through the formalities of capture, threat, and acquiescence, the female gestured first-degree assent underscored by third-degree reluctance. “The outermosst four planetss of thiss ssysstem are all gass giantss with atmosspheress of varying compossition and depth. The farthesst from the local ssun boasstss a ssingle moon, but it iss not a gass giant. It belongss to a class of sstellar objectss known as methane dwarvess. Bigger than a gass giant, but smaller than a normal brown dwarf. Interestingly, the attendant moon appearss to have a ssimilar atmossphere.”
“That’s interesting.” Flinx’s interest in astronomy reflected practical as well as aesthetic interests. “The average satellite would be much too small to retain that kind of gaseous amalgam.”
“It could be drawn directly from the upper atmospheric reachess of the planet itsself. The moon orbitss exceedingly closse to the parent world. Inssofar as we are able to tell, the brief emission wass directed toward that moon.”
“Any response?” The question was asked half in jest. Flinx knew he ought to be leaving, fast, but his insatiable curiosity demanded he take with him just one more crust of fact.
Teeth clacked amusedly. “From a gasseous moon orbiting an uninhabitable methane dwarf? You are imaginative, human.”
“Alsso ignorant,” the female added for good measure.
“I will assume that constitutes a ‘no’ in response to my query.” The matter of the transmitter outburst settled to his satisfaction, he turned away from the container and began a search of his surroundings with an eye toward equipping himself for further travel.
The AAnn skinsuit he found hung in loose folds in several places and clung too tightly in others, but was still a considerable improvement over the rags that he had been wearing. The hole in the lower rear was equipped with a reflexive rictus that automatically tried to snap tight against the base of the tail he did not have. Instead, it continued closing until it was completely sealed, which was just what he was hoping it would do. There were no sunguards, the AAnn having no need of them. They could see without squinting or difficulty in the most intense sunlight. Other than that one omission, however, he felt more protected from the elements than he had in days. There was no cooling unit, of course, but at least the skinsuit would keep the sun’s stinging rays from contact with his vulnerable flesh.
He had better luck adapting an AAnn field pack to his human frame, filling it with containers of water and dried reptiloid rations. In the absence of evaporated fruits and vegetables, he would have to survive on an all-meat diet for a little while longer. Taking his time, he also retrieved both of the scientists’ hand weapons.
Thus equipped, he then demanded the activation code for the two-person skimmer parked outside.
“Thief,” the male declared from within his perforated prison.
“Dirty mammal!” the female spat, then reluctantly recited the code.
Turning, he eyed them calmly. “You’re both welcome. I wish you luck with your future research. It looks really interesting, but I’m actually searching for revelation of another kind.” With a wave, he bade them farewell and started up the ramp that led out of the subterranean station. Their curses followed him until he was up top and out of earshot.
The weight of fresh supplies was reassuring against his back, while the sturdy skinsuit kept the ill-fitting pack from rubbing against his flesh. Once inside the skimmer, he unloaded them both. After spending several minutes deep in study, he tentatively entered the code the female had provided. The skimmer’s engine stuttered to life, and the compact craft rose five meters off the ground. Though he experimented with the controls, he could not induce it to rise any higher. Still, it would clear the majority of obstacles in his path. While he could not travel in a perfectly straight line, neither would he have to deviate too often from his intended course.
Pausing near the base of the observation platform from which they had beheld the discharge of energy from the alien transmitter, he considered how best to proceed. Nothing for it but to assume that the Crotase encampment was still situated at the original coordinates. After his less-than-sociable encounter with the pair of AAnn scientists, he would be delighted to see fellow humans again: even potentially hostile ones, even from a distance. Settling on a bearing, he eased the accelerator equivalent forward. The skimmer headed off in a southeasterly direction, a reinvigorated Pip resting on the deck near his feet.
Less than an hour later, the engine died. He just did manage to wrestle the vehicle to a comparatively intact touchdown—his second crash landing on Pyrassis, he reflected ruefully. Though unfamiliar with the technical specifications of the alien craft, outwardly at least it appeared undamaged. The calculatingly deceitful AAnn had given him an incomplete activation code. No doubt intentionally, the skimmer had carried him far enough from their camp so that when it failed it would leave him with more than a day’s walk to get back—by which time they would have emerged from their temporary detention to arm and barricade themselves against his possible return. Muttering an admiring curse, he shouldered his supplies and struck off on foot, Pip preceding him effortlessly through their sweltering black surroundings.
It was early evening when he spotted the approaching aircraft. There were two of them, still high but descending rapidly, and of unmistakably AAnn design. Though he could not be certain of their intended destination, based on his recent encounter he was pretty sure he knew where they were headed. While it was unlikely anyone aboard, even assuming they were looking for him, could spot a solitary figure far below wending its way among the ebon twists and curls of the inhumed transmitter, he took no chances, huddling beneath a sweeping overhang of black material until they were out of sight.
As he hurried onward, a rising roar overtook him from behind. They were landing at the scientific station, all right, descending sharply. He wished he had been able to put more distance between himself and the outpost before the borrowed skimmer had quit. Entering, they would soon find the penned-up pair of scientists. Glancing down at his feet he saw that he was not leaving much of a trail on the black, ribbed surface. Footsteps showed only where grains had accumulated in gaps or miniature dunes. Keeping that in mind, he did his best to avoid the softer, deeper piles of sand.
When they came after him, it would be with more sophisticated tracking methods than eyeballing the ground for footprints. Still, he had the impenetrable maze of the transmitter in which to hide, and a little bit of a head start. They might head off in the opposite direction, or decide to remain at the outpost until further instructions arrived. Variables were at work. He broke into a brisk jog and tried to lengthen his stride.
The AAnn craft set down alongside one another in the s
mall flat area that was clearly marked a landing zone. A conventional navbeacon guided them in. Dysseen saw no reason to hesitate, and as expected, nothing materialized to challenge their arrival. On the other hand, his communicators were unable to raise the couple who had chosen to maroon themselves at this miserable place in the name of science.
“Probably busy at work, honored ssir,” subofficer Hizzvuak declared. “Or out in the field. Gussasst, if they are not here, they would not know we were coming today, and would therefore not be expecting vissitorss.”
Dysseen gestured third-degree concurrence. He liked Hizzvuak. The Subofficer was a straightforward and competent individual who never surprised. One half-squad stood ready awaiting the order to deploy. At least the long trip from HQ had silenced the insufferably talkative trooper Qiscep. That individual had finally run out of things to say regarding his own accomplishments.
It was getting late, he reflected as he glanced out the forward port. You would think that in a place as remote as this, individuals would take care to be back in their shelter by nightfall—an elder pair especially. He scratched under the base of a neck scale. One could never tell about scientists. He neither understood nor much liked them. But as with any AAnn, he recognized and acknowledged their vital contribution to the ongoing expansion of the Empire.
Hizzvuak was gazing intently out the port as the aircraft pilot finalized the transport’s touchdown. “No ssign of alien intrussion, ssir. No vehicless, no aircraft.” He indicated third-degree amusement. “How then would a ssusspected sspy make itss way to a place like thiss?”
“Musst have wandered away from itss own camp and out into the desert,” Dysseen joked. “Come; we’ll ssoon put an end to thiss. If nothing elsse, we can enjoy an evening meal away from the confiness of base and out from under the overlordsship of Commander Voocim.”
Hizzvuak was more than amenable. “It will be a nice change, honored ssir. Dissimilar ssurroundingss.” As he checked his gear he used the tip of his tail to indicate the view out the foreport. “What iss important about thiss place, anyway?”
Dysseen gestured ignorance. “I do not know. I do not follow the work of the outlying sscientific teamss.” His pupils contracted. “The immediate terrain is compossed of very sstrange sshapess, to ssay the leasst.”
He ordered the lead half-squad to enter the shelter, leaving those from the other transport to set up a regulation secured perimeter. Not because he felt there was any danger, but because it was standard procedure, and because it would give the troopers something to do besides grumble about the long flight and the lateness of the hour. With himself in the lead, they entered the facility. It was unbarred and unlocked.
“Over here, Firsst Officer!”
Finding the two scientists confined in the storage container was enough of a surprise for one evening. Listening to them explain what had happened, Dysseen was jolted by the realization that their story was not the product of idle minds that had been too long away from burrowing company. Still, despite the rising excitement he felt, he was cautious.
“You decorate your remembrance with detailss, but that iss not enough to sspark full confidence.”
Tenukac hissed his frustration. His quiet outrage had no effect on Dysseen and his attendant subofficers, but the recorded images that Nennasu recovered from the facility’s security monitors did. They clearly showed the human, first as visitor, then as a prisoner of the couple, and finally as an armed escapee taking flight. Leaning forward, Hizzvuak pushed a finger into the three-dimensional image of a rapidly moving object.
“And thiss, honored intelligencess: What iss thiss?”
“Ssome kind of ssmall associated creature that travelss with the human. You know that they have a proclivity for sseeking the perssonalized company of thingss less intelligent than themsselves. I believe that ssuch attendant followerss are called ‘petss.’ ”
“I have heard of that.” Hizzvuak was captivated by the rapid movements of the tiny winged creature. “What other ssapience dissplayss ssuch a habit?”
“Perhapss it makess them feel more ssuperior to keep inferior beingss close around them,” Dysseen commented thoughtfully.
“In thiss insstance it certainly makess thiss particular human feel ssafer. And with good reasson.” Nennasu exhibited her leg. Dysseen’s gaze traveled immediately to the conspicuous oval scar. “In defensse of itss masster, the flying creature ejectss under pressure a highly acidic fluid of whosse ultimate potential we remain in ignorance. When you run the human to ground, be careful to be wary of itss ssmall companion.”
Dysseen was suitably impressed. “We will take care to eradicate it before we take the human into cusstody.” He glanced at one of the traditional narrow ports that provided a view outside the station. “We will sstart after the intruder at firsst sunrisse.”
Tenukac’s agile fingers indicated second-degree confusion entwined with third-degree unease. “You would wait until morning? We took care to enssure that the skimmer it stole from uss would fail within the hour, but by delaying until ssunrisse you allow the creature that much more time to make disstance between uss.”
“Do not tell me my job.” Dysseen was polite but firm. “My ssoldierss have endured a long flight from Kyl Base. They are tired and hungry. Where iss thiss ssolitary human to go? A watch will be sset on both my craft. Any dissturbance, any energy manifesstation within a hundred ogons will automatically be recorded, and we will resspond accordingly. If we give them a little time, perhapss thiss human’ss associatess will appear and try to perform an extraction. That would allow uss to take all of them, or any automated craft that might be in usse.
“As for the ssolitary intruder itsself, it iss operating alone and in territory unfamiliar to it, itss ssole ssupport the ssuppliess it can carry on itss back. I have under me a full trained ssquad of Imperial trooperss with which to track the creature, and two aircraft to provide backup. I view the human’ss pressence as a fine opportunity for my ssoldierss to gain ssome field experience. It iss a welcome break in routine, for which we can only be grateful. Now—what can you tell me of the human’ss purposse in coming to Pyrassis?”
Nennasu gestured helplessness. “It wass not particularly forthcoming.”
“That iss undersstandable.” Dysseen was patient. Outside, the squad was busy establishing a night camp.
“We believe it came here for the ssame reasson we are here,” the male explained. “To sstudy thiss ancient alien transsmitter upon which we are sstanding. But that iss only an assumption based on what it told uss. It might have been trying to conceal itss actual intentionss.”
“We are atop ssome kind of transsmitter?” Dysseen glanced anew at the dark surface underfoot. “That iss very interessting. If that iss what the human told you, no doubt it iss what it will tell uss when we pick it up.” He flourished sharp teeth. “If there iss another reasson, it will not take uss long to learn the detailss.” Executing a gesture of second-degree thanks underscored by fifth-degree politeness, he stepped back. “If you will excusse me, I musst ssee to my ssquad.”
Tenukac gestured for the officer to wait. “We have made an important disscovery here, honored ssir! The information musst be communicated as quickly as possible to the relevant authoritiess.”
“Vyessh, vyessh.” Dysseen made placating gestures. “Formulate your report, and I will ssee that it iss passed along as ssoon as iss feassible. There are alwayss demandss on the ssubsspace communicator.” He turned toward the open exit.
“It really iss of the utmosst sscientific ssignificance,” Nennasu called after him. “There are hypothetical ramificationss that . . .”
But Dysseen was already retreating from their enthusiasm, his sandaled feet and idly switching tail vanishing up the sloping walkway.
Sunrise brought the clarity of morning and a fresh resolve on the part of Dysseen to pick up the free-roaming human as quickly as possible. He had kept his evening report to base deliberately vague. If the peevish Voocim knew that there
really was a human spy on Pyrassis, she was liable to show up to direct the search-and-seizure process in person. In quintessential AAnn fashion, Dysseen saw no reason why his superior officer should share any of the credit for the actual apprehension. There would be plenty of acclaim to go around once the intruder had been delivered safely to base.
The narrow, winding pathways between the arching black monoliths and buckled shapes of the alien surface precluded the use in the search of ground-based transport. Floaters were of no help either, since by traveling over the top of the irregular surface they might easily miss a single bipedal shape hiding beneath. That meant tracking the human on foot. It would be good practice for the troops. Of course, Dysseen had no intention of wandering around the vast rugged territory for days on end.
Once the stolen skimmer’s beacon was located, half a dozen small seekers were sent to explore its vicinity. Expanding from a common axis, it took less than two hours for one searching the southeast quadrant to locate and identify activity commensurate with the movement of a human-sized object. Homing in on its target, it caught several fleeting glimpses of the designated quarry. Though it was doing an admirable job of trying to hide among the ruins, the human could not avoid forever the attentions of the persistent, tireless automated seekers.
Though the human had managed to cover an impressive amount of ground, Dysseen felt confident that his troopers would be able to overtake it by the end of the day. Their efforts would be helped in no small measure by the fact that the twin floaters stored within the two transport aircraft would land half of them in front of the fleeing human, and the other half behind.
“Remember,” he warned his quartet of subofficers, “we want thiss individual alive. It iss imperative that we learn what it iss doing here, if it hass come alone or iss operating in conjunction with as-yet-undetected confederatess, and whether it iss doing sso rogue or in concert with Commonwealth approval. We cannot learn thesse thingss from a corpsse. Insstruct your trooperss accordingly.” He gestured second-degree resolution. “If the human diess, ssomeone will be held accountable. The conssequencess will not be pleassant.”
Reunion (Pip and Flinx) Page 20
