LC01 Sweet Starfire

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “I’m rapidly becoming accustomed to Wolf ways,” Cidra told her. She tried her fruit juice. She couldn’t recognize the flavors but found the drink delicious. “A local product?” she asked, indicating her glass.

  “Oh, yes. Like it?”

  “Very much.” She took another sip.

  “I’m very glad to have you stay here, Cidra. My husband is away for several days doing some fieldwork on toxins. It will be nice to have company. But I have to admit. I’m slightly curious. Why aren’t you staying on board ship? Severance usually does, and if you’re a member of his, uh, crew . . . ?” She left the question hanging delicately.

  Cidra adjusted the fold of her midday robe. “I believe Severance wants a little privacy for a few days. The cabin of a mail ship is a small place for two people to share for two weeks. He thought we should have a break from each other.”

  Cidra looked up, hoping her polite expression hid the faint wistfulness she was feeling. “I think he needs the privacy for other reasons too. There’s the matter of his obtaining some, uh, special handling. Wolves are very interested in sex, you know.”

  “I know,” Desma assured her, smiling faintly. “I’ve been married for some time. Four children, all grown now”

  Cidra swallowed fruit juice. “I’m sure you understand the situation.”

  “So this really is a crew contract you’ve signed? Not a convenience contract?”

  “Definitely”

  “This gets more intriguing by the minute. You know, Severance signed a convenience contract once. No one knows for certain what happened, but the contract was terminated by mutual consent by the time Severance Pay hit Renaissance. I almost felt sorry for the young woman. She was absolutely enraged, according to those who saw her. Not many did. She never even left the terminal. Severance bought her a return ticket and she left on the next outbound commercial freighter. People said it was a miracle that the woman and Severance had avoided killing each other somewhere between Lovelady and Renaissance.”

  “He told me the story.”

  “Did he?” Desma seemed surprised.

  “By the way of warning, I think. I informed him I wasn’t interested in a convenience contract.”

  “And he took you on as crew? There’s a registered agreement?”

  “Well, at the moment it’s still an informal, verbal agreement, but Severance and I both take it quite seriously.”

  “More and more interesting,” Desma mused. Then she set down her empty glass. “Did you really read that dull piece I did on bioluminescence?”

  Cidra nodded eagerly. “One of the advantages of being an archivist. One gets to explore so many different fields. Unfortunately I’m not an expert in any one area, except First Family fiction, which is not exactly on the cutting edge of research. But I can assure you that your article was far from dull. There were many requests for it from Harmonic researchers doing work in related fields.”

  Desma looked pleased. “Would you be interested in seeing the lab?”

  “I would enjoy that very much.”

  The long lab structure was just as Desma had promised, hot and muggy like the outside air. In addition the heavy atmosphere was overlaid with a distinctive, unpleasant odor that caused Cidra to wrinkle her nose as she stepped inside.

  “Bugs,” Desma explained cheerfully. “Put a lot of them in one place and they tend to smell. We keep things as clean as possible, but you can’t ever escape the odor completely. You get used to it.”

  “That’s what Severance said about the humidity.” Cidra looked around with grave interest. Long aisles of cages constructed of clear panels stretched from one end of the lab building to the other. In some cases the panels were of tempered diazite, just like the windows. Cidra contemplated what that said about the creatures housed inside. It took a great deal to cut through tempered diazite.

  “Acid,” Desma said, pausing beside a yellowed diazite cage to peer inside. “That’s the reason for the tempered walls. Some of these critters produce an acid that can dissolve normal diazite or clear silitron.”

  “Severance said there were many corrosive elements on Renaissance. He said it was hard on machinery.” Cidra looked into the cage. “I don’t see anything in there.”

  “Keep looking. There, on that branch. See the eyes?”

  Cidra saw the eyes, all right. She gasped and took an automatic step backward before remembering that the malevolent gaze was trapped on the other side of a strong, clear wall. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” she breathed, unable to look away now. The eyes were hard, glittering, faceted structures of deep amber. They stared out at her as if the insect brain behind them longed for nothing more than to be able to suck the blood from her body. Huge, folded wings, more delicate-looking than the spun crystal moss of her gown, shimmered with an eerie phosphorescence. Long, spindly legs were bent into a springing position. The creature had been hard to detect for a moment because its general color was the same as its background. It was an uncomfortably large creature, almost a full meter in height.

  “Cute little Bloodsucker, isn’t he? Raised him from a pup,” Desma declared.

  Cidra swallowed. “Is Bloodsucker its name or what it does?”

  “Both. He sucks blood when he’s hungry,” Desma said, “which is nearly all the time. Nothing on Renaissance passes up the chance for a meal. No guarantee about when the next one will be coming along. I’m doing some work on the phosphorescent effect produced in the wings. My husband is working on the venom it uses to kill its prey. It’s the acid in the venom that can eat through most cage materials.” She straightened. “Over here I’ve got a rather nice assortment of Stoners. Pretty tame compared to the Bloodsucker but interesting all the same. A Harmonic expert in Clementia and I have been exchanging information quite regularly for a year or so. We’re going to collaborate on an article soon.”

  “You’re working with someone at Clementia? “ Cidra asked.

  “Otan Greenlove. Do you know him?”

  Cidra nodded. “A most respected teacher. I had a class in bioecological theory with him.” She had also had a very un-Harmonic crush on the man that she could only hope she’d managed to conceal at the time. She had found concealing such things difficult when she was in her sixteenth year, but she’d practiced hiding her emotional responses from a very early age. She had known almost before she could walk that strong emotional responses were not viewed as normal behavior among Harmonics.

  “He’s been a tremendous help to me in my studies. Has access to computer simulation equipment I can’t get here on Try Again.” Desma leaned down to gaze affectionately at the tiny-waisted insects in the cage. “Handsome as any renegade too. Met him a few months ago. Pity. All those dark good looks wasted on a Harmonic. Ah, well, I’m a married woman.” She grinned at her house-guest. “Ready for the rest of the tour?”

  With eager curiosity Cidra followed Desma Kady down the long aisles, gazing with fascination at each new horror. Some of the creatures were half familiar to her from her academic work, but most were strange and marvelous. Some crawled on legless bellies, others floated in the air, waiting endlessly for prey. A few hopped around on fragile legs that could be regrown in the event one was lost. Cold, gleaming eyes of every shape and hue looked out at Cidra, assessing her status as potential food. It was an unnerving experience to be gazed upon with so much malicious intent.

  Desma and her husband had combined their fields of expertise, doing a great deal of crossover work and sharing the same lab facilities. They worked for an aggressive research firm that funded the studies in exchange for full rights to anything marketable they produced.

  “Our latest success was an interesting new pesticide. It’s being tested right now on Lovelady. Doesn’t seem to alter the environment or the agricultural product in any way but has an uncanny effect against glitterbugs.”

  “I read a lot about them in the First Family novels and memoirs. They were a real scourge in the early days. Destroyed countless p
lantings. They’ve been just barely under control for years, haven’t they? They keep mutating, so don’t new pesticides have to be found on a regular basis?”

  Desma smiled at Cidra’s familiarity with the subject. “With any luck our company will be producing the newest counterassault. Should make a tidy bundle for all of us.” Desma moved on. “Over here I’ve got my current pride and joy. These two beauties were the basis for that monograph I wrote on bioluminescence.”

  Cidra studied the two creatures behind the tempered diazite. They were a pale, washed-out shade of green, unusually unassuming compared with their more colorful neighbors. Huge, faceted eyes followed her avidly as she moved around in front of the cage. The wings were folded over its elongated body. The back two tiers of legs were clearly designed for long, ground-covering leaps.

  “They’re smaller than I would have expected,” Cidra said. “Considering the damage they’re capable of doing.” The insectoid creatures were about half a meter in height. “But they’re not glowing! In your monograph you said they glowed all over, bodies as well as wings.”

  “The luminescent effect is selective. They can activate it at will, and they only do so when they’ve located prey. And they only hunt in the dark. They use the glow to momentarily paralyze the victim.”

  “That’s right,” Cidra said, recalling the rest of the monograph. “I remember now about them hunting at night. The eyes are heat-sensing as well as motion-sensing?”

  “Definitely. Watch, I’ll give you a free show” Desma walked across the room and touched several pads on a wall panel. The light faded, and the windows were sealed with automatic shutters. There was a general rise in the chittering, chattering, clacking sounds from the inhabitants of the cages as sudden darkness descended.

  Cidra waited for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. “They’re still not glowing.”

  “Take a step closer to the cage and act like prey.”

  With a laugh Cidra stepped closer. “How do I do that?”

  “Just breathe. You’ll have to get fairly close because the diazite interferes with their normal ability to sense heat. If you touch the cage wall, you’ll really get a reaction.”

  Cidra waited, breathing deeply. Blindly she put a finger on the diazite cage. And quite suddenly she had her answer. The two Rigor Mortis Mantises lit up with harsh intensity, their bodies glowing with a blue-white light that was startling and terrifying. Brilliant eyes locked with hers for an instant, projecting such an inhuman hunger that Cidra’s stomach turned to ice. She saw the glowing liquid venom drip from hard mandibles. She had time enough to see the segmented, upraised front limbs poised to seize her throat, and then the mantises leapt. The terror of the moment froze her to the spot. Every nerve in her body was shouting for her to run but she couldn’t move. Her mouth was open but no scream emerged. Cidra knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was about to become food.

  There was a small clicking noise as the mantises struck the tempered diazite, but it took several seconds for Cidra to register the fact that there was a barrier between herself and death. Slowly she tried to regain her self-control, a part of her brain all too well aware that she would have been mantis food by now if there had been no diazite. She shuddered with a sense of genuine horror. The lights came on at once. The mantises went back to being an unassuming shade of pale green. It seemed to Cidra, however, that they looked irritated at having been denied their prey.

  “Sorry about that,” Desna said, hurrying forward. “Everything okay? It does make for a fairly graphic display, doesn’t it?”

  “I knew what to expect, but I was still quite stunned when they switched on that glow. I’ve never seen anything like it, Desma. It’s terrifying.” With a great effort of will Cidra forced herself to calm down. The adrenaline was still hurtling through her system. “They sensed my body heat through the diazite?”

  “They are exquisitely sensitive to heat. But they rely on the prey’s movements, as well, to map out the general location of the victim. Altogether a highly sophisticated sensory system, which they need, naturally, because they only attack in the dark.”

  “Amazing.”

  “My husband has found that their venom is capable of producing a temporary paralysis in a creature as big as a man. The mantis attacks, administers the venom, and then backs off to wait until the victim has been immobilized. Then the mantis sits down to a leisurely dinner. The paralysis looks a lot like rigor mortis and takes an hour or so to wear off. By then there’s usually not much left of the victim.”

  “I can imagine,” Cidra said, trying to sound appropriately academic about the whole thing. Unfortunately she could imagine the scene all too well.

  Desma cast her a keen glance. “Field research tends to be a bit raw compared to the work done in Clementia’s nice clean labs.”

  “You can say that again. The labs in Clementia focus on computer modeling and elaborate cell techniques. I’ve never seen live animals in a research facility.”

  “Wolves like me do the dirty work in the field and leave a lot of the fancy analysis and application work to Harmonics. It’s a good system.” Desma grinned at Cidra’s pale face. “What I always need after a day in this joint is a good stiff drink,” Desma Kady announced. “And I see it’s getting close to a decent drinking hour. Come on, Cidra, the men are away. We might as well play.”

  It occurred to Cidra that she should spend the evening in the local Archives pursuing her research. But after two weeks in space with a short-tempered male and the unnerving demonstration of the local fauna, a drink sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea. For the first time she thought she understood the fundamental appeal of alcohol for Wolves.

  “I’ll change into my evening robe,” Cidra said.

  EIGHT

  One hour and one large mug of Renaissance Rose ale later, Cidra realized that she was enjoying herself very much. She had discovered that one could become accustomed to the heavy, tart ale. Considering the fact that the tavern was crowded, noisy, and only inefficiently cooled, she was interested to find herself having a good time. There were other factors, too, that ought to have hindered her sense of pleasant relaxation. When she had first arrived with Desma, she had attracted a fair amount of covert interest. Initially it had made her uncomfortable.

  “We don’t get too many Harmonics here on Renaissance. And when they do come, they tend to keep to themselves.”

  “But I’m not a Harmonic,” Cidra had begun to explain with painful honesty.

  “You look like one at first glance. Don’t worry, they’ll lose interest after a while.” Desma dismissed the clutter of company uniforms, ship suits, and lab-tech outfits that sat, lounged, or slouched around the smoky room. Not only was the air-conditioning machinery having trouble with the heat, it wasn’t doing a particularly good job of filtering the air, either.

  Still, by the time she finished the first mug of ale, Cidra didn’t really care. When Desma came back from the drink dispenser with a fresh mug for herself, Cidra picked up the conversation where it had been left off.

  “There’s no doubt in your mind, then, that life on Renaissance shows the same evolutionary and genetic background as life on Lovelady?”

  “We’ve still got a long way to go to be certain, but so far we’ve found nothing to contradict Maltan’s Theory that species on Renaissance are evolved from the same genetic sources as species on Lovelady.”

  “Which means that the Ghosts must have evolved either here or on Lovelady and then colonized the neighboring planet, taking their flora and fauna with them.”

  “It makes sense,” Desma explained. “We know from the few records that survived the crash of the First Families’ colony ship that statistically life is an exceedingly rare event in the universe. The odds are certainly against two planets in one star system developing life independently. And the odds of them developing similar life-forms is just astronomical.”

  “But the creatures you showed me in the lab look so different fr
om the common life-forms on Lovelady. Hard to believe they’re related. Everything here on Renaissance seems so much more violent by nature.”

  “Ain’t adaptation a wonderful thing?” Desma observed cheerfully. “And believe me, here on Renaissance it’s a case of adapt and conquer or die. There are winners and losers here but nothing in between.”

  Cidra glanced around at the boisterous crowd. “Where do humans fit in, I wonder.”

  “Right now we’re learning to adapt. In some small areas we’re even doing some exploiting and conquering. But that could change overnight. We could still run into something here on Renaissance that is capable of flicking us off the planet the way a torla flicks off a scatterbug. We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  “It seems wrong to think in terms of exploitation and conquering,” Cidra said thoughtfully. “This is a lush, primeval world. It has its own intrinsic harmonies. It would seem that a more positive approach to exploration would be one that took a different philosophical basis. We should be looking for the underlying harmonic rules, trying to fit ourselves into them.”

  “Spoken like a true Harmonic.” Desma laughed. “The problem is that nature has no qualms about changing the rules on us without much warning. Nature isn’t static, and therefore I don’t think it’s possible to ever be completely in harmony with it. Remember the glitterbugs. No matter what we come up with, they blithely keep mutating—”

  “A perfect example of what I’m trying to say,” Cidra interrupted happily. She found nothing more entertaining than an intellectual debate. And it was even better, she was discovering, when conducted over a mug of ale. “The glitterbugs mutate in an effort to reestablish the basic harmony humans have destroyed with pesticides.”

  “Nonsense. The mutation occurs as a means of adaptation in an effort to continue exploiting and conquering. If glitterbugs had a brain and a set of vocal cords, they’d tell you they could care less about harmony. They’re out to take over as much of the world as they can get. Just like everything else that’s really viable.”