by Steve Perry
* * *
Tom scanned the console and spoke without looking up.
“Geosynch orbit in twenty hours, and check on turbulence.”
Scott’s hands fluttered over the controls. “Some fluctuation, but we can compensate no prob—we can decouple anytime after orbit is achieved, then it’s—”
The magnified Ryushi holo had appeared on the screen.
“Hel-lo Ryushi! Jesus, what a dust ball!”
Tom looked up and nodded. “So it’s a tad dry, big deal.”
Scott leaned back in his form-chair and cracked his knuckles behind his head. “Yeah, but we’re not talking vague thirst here—this is just one big parched hellhole.” He watched the vid as it panned the ranges and cliffs of Ryushi. “What kind of mouth-breather would want to move way the fuck out here? Especially when there’s still plenty of land available on Nova Terra?”
Tom glanced at the screen and then went back to plugging in data “Who the hell knows? One man’s poison and all like that.”
“Yeah, but lookit the reads on the native life. This place is poison.”
“Ah, I’m sure Ryushi is the perfect home for somebody somewhere.’”
“Not me,” Scott mumbled under his breath. Great place for a nice vacation from the tug, sure. If you were a fucking lizard. Oh, well. He could spend his time in the local bar talking to the women, he didn’t have to go hiking around in the sunshine now, did he?
* * *
Dachande studied the file picture of the desert world less than a half cycle away. Behind him, the yautja sparred under Skemte’s supervision and screamed in blood lust. Soon they would have real targets.
He watched the gkinmara record and hissed in anticipation.
Perfect.
7
At a quarter past three in the morning, Jame Roth leaned against her flyer and watched for Ackland’s headlights. The night was hot and free of wind, and stars twinkled faintly over the mountains. Her dog, Creep, lay panting at her feet, occasionally whining at the bulging sack hooked to the scooter’s seat. Behind her a hundred meters or so, Travis and Adam watched over a small herd of rhynth, most of them on the ground asleep.
“Except rhynth sleep standing, eh, Creep?’
The mutt raised his head and whined again.
Roth considered herself a practical woman, but something about all of this gave her the shivers. The things she had found in the canyon were, well, odd. Unnatural to say the least. And now the rhynth were acting funny and Ackland’s vet had found no cause for the symptoms. She didn’t like it, not one bit.
She heard Ackland’s AV long before it came into view. The desert was like that at night; it was one of the reasons that she and her spouse, Cathie Dowes, had moved to Ryushi. Calm and quiet, far away from crowds and the tame ugliness of Earth. Out here was freedom, and for almost three years, she and Cathie had been happy working for the ranchers. They were even discussing having a child together…
She cast an uneasy glance at the bundle and waited for Ackland. He was an asshole, sure, but he was the biggest herd-runner on the planet and it was his money that was going to set her and Cathie up after the sale. This was his responsibility.
The AV came rumbling around the bend up ahead and squealed to a halt in front of her, the headlights almost blinding to her dark-adjusted eyes. Ackland climbed down from the cab almost before the transport had stopped moving. Roth unhooked the sack and started toward him, Creep at her heels. He looked at the rhynth beyond her and walked quickly to meet them halfway.
“I got your message, Roth.” He sounded out of breath. “What’s the problem?”
“Take a look,” she said, and crouched down to empty her find onto the dusty ground. Creep growled at the lifeless things and backed away. Roth speared one of the three creatures with a rhynth-stick and held it up for Ackland to see.
It looked like nothing so much as a huge spider with a spiny tail, a little smaller than a male fire-walker, perhaps two hand-spans. Its long, segmented legs curved under its plated body and its half-meter tail looked prehensile. There were no eyes as far as Roth could tell, but there was a short fleshy tube that perhaps served as a mouth; it hung limply at the head of the creature. The thing was a mottled slate-gray all over.
Ackland took the stick from her and studied it carefully. “What the hell is it?” His voice was thick with disgust.
“Besides uglier than shit? I was hoping you could tell me,” she said.
Ackland frowned and set the spider down next to the other two. “I’ve never seen anything like these things. Where’d you find them?”
“Up at the head of Beriki canyon. There were a couple dozen of them lying around dead.” She brushed a long strand of sun-bleached hair out of her eyes and looked over at the rhynth. A few of them lowed mournfully, the sounds quiet in the still air. “That’s where we scared up these poke-snoots. They were stumbling around and bumping into each other like they were half-asleep.” She rose to her feet and faced Ackland, who had also stood.
“I think maybe they’re sick, Mr. Ackland. I thought you should know.”
“What did T. Stone say?”
“Tests all clean so far.”
Ackland tipped his wide-brimmed hat back on his head and then nodded at her. “You did the right thing, Roth.” He looked at the herd and then down at the alien things thoughtfully. Roth waited.
“We don’t know that there’s anything wrong with the rhynth,” he said carefully. “And we wouldn’t want some dickhead from the company to panic and set up a quarantine, right?” Ackland’s speculative gaze turned to her face. “I mean, we’ve invested a lot of time here—and something like that, well, that would mean that some of us wouldn’t get the payoffs that we deserve…”
He trailed off, leaving the obvious unstated. Roth chewed at her lower lip and nudged one of the creatures with one boot. Ackland was a greedy man, but he would be a rich greedy man within the week. And she had checked the main herd before she had called him; the only affected rhynth were the thirty-plus head behind her. Something like this could ruin all that she and Cathie had worked for…
Roth shrugged mentally, her decision made. This was Ackland’s problem now. “I understand.”
Ackland grinned and rocked back on his heels, nodding.
“But what do I do with these things?” she said.
“Take ’em to Dr. Revna—but tell him you found them in Iwa Gorge, okay?” He put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “You’re doing a great job, Roth. There will be a bonus for you when this roundup is over.”
As he walked back to the AV, Roth brushed at the place his hand had touched her shoulder. Asshole.
She shoved the creatures back into the bag with the rhynth-stick and loaded it onto the bike for the trip into town. “C’mon Creep.” She patted her thigh and the herd dog followed her back to the watch; the rhynth that weren’t asleep lay on their sides, panting heavily. Wet ropes of mucus hung from their mouths and trembled with each gasp. Poke-snoots were stupid beasts, but she didn’t like to see them this way—like they had swallowed something poison…
* * *
Noguchi sat seiza on the rounded mat in her apartment and breathed deeply, head down. It was just after dawn, and today The Lector came. She had awakened nervous and wanted to try to relax before starting the final roundup—but it had been almost a month since her last real practice and she could feel the muscles in her legs groaning from the stretch.
She had gotten her brown belt in karate before she’d left Earth for Ryushi, and had not been far away from black. While there were holo teaching devices that she could train to at the rec center, she had decided to put her lessons aside for a while—at least until she had found a human sparring partner. Holos weren’t a bad way to go, but they lacked something. Dignity, perhaps.
But she hadn’t made any close enough friends to work out with…
No friends, Machiko, close or otherwise. Don’t kid yourself.
Right.
Most ranchers probably weren’t into martial arts anyway.
Her thighs trembled when she stood to form riding-horse stance; her old sensei, Master Ko, would have put her on the floor for letting herself go like this. She ran through blocks and kicks to loosen up a little, and was surprised at the vague sadness she felt at the familiarity of the moves. Homesickness? No, she had left little behind on Earth worth missing. It was…
Loneliness. The thought struck a chord within her that she hadn’t felt for a very long time. It was the sense of—not belonging. At least on Earth she had worked in an office building with thousands of other employees, had walked through streets full of people; she had been in a karate class. Noguchi hadn’t been very close to anyone, but at least there had been that option. And here there was only Hiroki, who seemed to disapprove of her somehow in spite of his smiling facade. Hiroki and a group of ranchers who didn’t give a shit if she came or went.
She stopped midway through the fourth form and frowned, sweat light on her brow. What was next? Block-claw or drop to her right knee and clutch—?
She started the form over and went slowly, concentrating this time.
Chop to throat, that was it. For some reason, she felt near tears for having forgotten. Had it been so long?
She ran through the rest of her workout quickly and then kneeled into seiza again, bangs plastered to her forehead. Today would be a nonstop panic, supervising roundup and then preparations for the arrival of The Lector. There were responsibilities to delegate and papers to shuffle. She wished there was someone to talk to, someone to commiserate with over the busy day to come…
Well. There was no time to regret her choices now, there was too much to be done. She had practiced smiling and nodding and tonight would be her first gesture of goodwill toward the ranchers, the company approved price increase. She hoped that it would be the start of a new relationship of mutual respect.
It has to be; Hiroki leaves in a few days with the rhynth shipment.
Right. Time to get ready.
Noguchi tripped on the step into the bathroom and knocked her head solidly into the door frame. She cursed and placed a hand on the swelling lump, eyes squeezed shut. Great. The bruise would match her lavender blouse for the party. A terrific start to the day, O master martial artist.
She hoped any other disasters would wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Kesar Revna was fascinated. Alien biology was supposedly his forte, but he hadn’t seen anything quite like it. He tried to keep up with the UMA reports from Earth, and Chigusa had a monthly online biomed journal that was one of the best; new species were being discovered every day, it seemed. But besides a mutant form of crab that had turned up on Terra Nova a few years back after a radioactive waste mishap, he found nothing in the literature that looked quite like this…
“I have to get back to work, Dr. Revna, if that’s okay—”
He reluctantly looked up from the examination table at the young woman who had brought in the amazing creatures. She seemed nervous, anxious to be gone; she certainly looked out of place in the lab. Her dusty range clothes and darkly tanned skin didn’t seem to agree with indoor lighting.
“Of course,” he said. “It’s the big day, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“And you say you found these in Iwa Gorge?”
“Uh, yeah. Right.” She dropped her gaze to the table and shuddered slightly. “Mr. Ackland said you might want to take a look at them.”
“Give Mr. Ackland my thanks. And I appreciate you coming in, I know how busy you must be.”
“Sure, no problem. Let us know how things turn out when you get a chance.” She turned to walk out and nearly collided with Miriam, the town’s human doctor and Kesar’s wife, which made her Dr. Revna, too.
“Excuse me, Dr. Revna.”
Miriam smiled. Her tanned skin crinkled at the corners of her eyes. She had her long and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and she always seemed so tiny and petite she made Roth feel like a rhynth. “Hello, Jame. How’s Cathie’s knee?”
“Great. Good as new. I’m sorry, I really have to run—”
“That’s all right. We’ll hopefully see you both tonight.”
Kesar had already turned his attention back to the specimen. “What do you make of this, Doc?”
Miriam laughed. “Oh, thank you. No ‘good morning, my love, how did you sleep’?”
Kesar looked at his wife and grinned. “Good morning, my love, how did you sleep? Now take a look at what Roth brought in. I could use a second opinion.”
Miriam bent over the table and raised her eyebrows. “She found this on Ryushi.”
“Iwa Gorge, she says. And she also said that there were at least twenty more, dead. I’ve already tried to cut one of the legs with the Killian, and nothing. Not a scratch.”
“You’re kidding.” Miriam searched his face for the joke. “Any carbon-based animal…” she trailed off. “Silicon? Couldn’t be and even if it was, that would at least have been marked—” She gazed at the specimen in wonder. “What is it, Kesar? You’re the DVM.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. There was that Terra Nova mutation, and I heard some rumors about a weird life form found in a mining colony somewhere, but somebody clamped down on that, nothing substantiated. We’re going to need to run some tests; and I think afterward, I’m going to take a little ride up to the gorge and poke around.”
Miriam frowned. “Alone?”
Kesar nodded. He felt wired. This was a totally new species…
“One of us should stay in case of any problems with the herding. Anyway, like you just said, I’m the vet, right? If I can find one of these alive—”
“—it could bite you, Kesar. Perhaps you should wait for a few days. Until someone can come with you.”
“Right. I need a guard to protect me from this little fist-sized spider. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, Miriam.” He patted her hand and smiled. “I’ll take a net and watch where I put my feet.”
He turned his attention back to the specimen even though he was aware she was hovering there, concerned.
“Hmm. The belly looks a lot softer than the legs. I bet I can incise along this plate line. Could you please fetch me the scalpel kit? Oh, and the Menashe saw? I’ll peel this critter, one way or another.”
She pursed her lips doubtfully but went to get the equipment from storage. He stooped over the alien again, already lost in thought. Miriam was a good doctor and a good spouse, but she worried too much. This creature was the most intriguing thing he’d come across on this planet, so far. Hell, that’s why he’d gotten into offworld medicine, stuff like this. To have some new and fascinating creature with his own Latinized name hung on it and then studied in biology classes at prestigious universities was perhaps an egotistical wish, but not an immoral one, was it? Why, yes, this is the first of the many unique life forms discovered by the galactically famous Dr. Kesar Revna. A minor find compared to his later work, of course, but even great men must have beginnings. Let him stand as an example to you all…
He smiled at the fantasy.
How could anyone fear such a unique find?
Besides, the creature was probably as harmless as his fantasy of academic greatness.
8
They landed on the parched world in the bottom of a vast ravine, far from where the lou-dte kalei had sown the Hard Meat eggs; they came in cloaked and during light hours, although the Hunt would not begin until after dark. It was all standard procedure; there were some worlds upon which the natives had developed weaponry and would fight for their skins, infected or not. Dachande had not lived long by being careless on strange terrain, and the planet had not been used for a Hunt so recently that precautions could be discarded. Especially now, because since the yautja’s last visit to Hunt here, others had come.
The Soft Meat, bleeding all over the radio bands for all to hear.
It was a shock to find them here. Given his choice, he would hunt
the Soft Meat, a thing he had long desired. They were cunning and they shot back. Soft Meat skulls were highly prized, the centerpiece of a warrior’s trophy wall. He would challenge them, were it at all possible. But not with a handful of raw and unseasoned would-be warriors. Not only would it be foolish, it was also against the rules of the Hunt. Dachande could almost smell them, the Soft Meat, and he would like nothing better than to test his mettle against them, but he would not, not this time. He had responsibilities, duties, and to cast them aside for his personal satisfaction would be to dishonor his name. So the ship would remain cloaked, any of his party who might venture even remotely close to the oomans would do so in a shiftsuit, and the Soft Meat would never now how lucky they had been. Reluctantly and without explanation, Dachande caused shiftsuit electronics to be issued to the students. Let them wonder what his motivations were—they knew enough not to ask. He would tell the other Blooded of the danger, but there would be no contact with the oomans on this trip. Was an ooman sighted, the Blooded would order the students to shift into camouflage and to avoid contact. A pity, but that was the way of it. After he finished this training Hunt, his dues would be paid and his application to a Blooded Warrior Only ship would be accepted. Then he would at last get his chance at the oomans. Not here, not now.
In the staging area, the younglings were so ch’hkt-a that they would burn each other if they didn’t calm down.
Dachande watched the young males hurriedly don their suits. He stood in the entry and felt the thick anticipation that radiated from them in their frenzied movements. It never failed to please him, to see the young so eager to spill first thwei.
There would be a short practice outside of the ship to test the world’s gravity while Warkha scanned for anything unexpected—it was killing nothing other than time, a chance to wear the edge off of the young males’ hyper-enthusiasm. Too, the Hard Meat would also be more active after the suns dropped. It was hardly sport to shoot a target curled up asleep.
