Friendly Fire

by Michelle Levigne

  Letting out the trill that M'kar equated with drac laughter, Granny settled down on the long folding table in the open center of the camp. She landed balanced on her haunches and held out both forelegs, clutching the leaves. Stepping up closer, M'kar saw the leaves were attached to a long vine, maybe as thick as her thumb.

  "There was an image of this plant in the survey ship's records." Brea stepped up to the table and pulled a small, basic scanner wand from the holster on her belt. "Ask if it's all right if I examine a leaf?" She flinched when Granny chirped, tore off a leaf, and handed it to her with a little bob of her triangular head. "I will never get used to how you do that."

  "That wasn't me." M'kar pulled up a chair for her. "Granny knew what you wanted."

  "Ask her how far away she flew? Because the survey crew have gone two hours' walk out in all directions, and no one has found this particular plant and brought me samples yet." She set the leaf on the table and was careful to pull out a decontamination wipe and cleanse her fingers that had touched the leaf. "Uh, did I just offend her?" Brea held very still as Granny stretched out her long neck and sniffed at the wipe, then turned her head from side to side, to give each shimmering eye a closer look.

  "She's just curious."

  The others, with the exception of Decker, took a step or two back from the table. From the prickles of alertness running up and down her back, M'kar guessed the entire landing party had now come to focus all their attention on what was happening with Granny and the leafy vine she had brought back.

  She waited until Granny got used to the soft warbling sound and the flicker of lights up and down the spectrum that projected from the slightly bulbous end of the wand, which Brea ran over the leaf. When the little silver drac was satisfied, or at least no longer curious, she turned back to M'kar and held out the vine again. Then M'kar posed the question, silently, trying to create images that would indicate a question of distance, as well as asking aloud. After all, Granny and the older dracs had shown an ability to understand some words, or at least the intentions or thoughts behind the words spoken to them.

  A clear image of a cave and plants softly glowing in the darkness flickered into her mind. When M'kar reported that, Brea nodded, lips pursed.

  "High phosphorus content in the leaves, and other chemicals that would account for the glow-in-the-dark effect. And being in the caves explains why we haven't found them yet."

  "Haven't found any caves," someone remarked from the back of the watchers. That earned a few chuckles.

  "Assuming they have to eat the leaves to produce flames …" She glanced up from the data spilling across the flat screen side of the scanner wand. "Ask her to eat and show us? Ask her if she'll let me follow the process?"

  "Are you sure you want to get close to a fire box just before it's going to blow?" Decker wasn't joking this time.

  Granny trilled laughter and stretched her neck out, pointing her muzzle at Decker. He glared at her.

  "She understands a lot more than we think." M'kar held out her arm and patted her shoulder. Granny chirped and her eyes sparkled, mostly violet and green, which seemed to indicate she was pleased. As a group, they had already demonstrated an odd sense of manners. Riding on a Human's shoulder seemed to be a reward or a treat that had to be earned. Several times, Granny had switched from happily observing the activities in the camp, flying a slow, circling patrol maybe five meters overhead, to a dive-bombing, shrieking fury. Her target had often been a younger drac who had accepted the invitation to ride on someone's shoulder. All anyone could theorize was that Granny felt the younger drac hadn't earned the right to ride. Clear invitations to ride didn't always bring compliance, and some older dracs looked toward their matriarch, as if asking permission.

  Once Granny had settled on her shoulder, M'kar looked into her eyes and framed the question, projecting images of Brea pointing the scanner wand at the drac's belly, then images of the black leaves going down Granny's throat. The little drac held perfectly still for a good ten seconds. Then she erupted in more trilling. Leaping up off M'kar's shoulder with enough force to ache, she shot up in the air, then flew circles over the worktable, tearing the leaves off the vine and dropping them all on Brea.

  "Is she agreeing, or does she think we're nuts?" Grego asked no one in particular.

  "I get the impression she thinks we're silly for asking her to eat the leaves," M'kar said.

  "I'm getting some readings that might explain why," Brea said. "I need more sensitive equipment -- actually, I'd love to take the whole plant up to my lab and take everything apart down to the molecular level. Right now, I'm theorizing a slight narcotic effect."

  "So we just asked the old biddy to smoke a pipe of happy weed," Decker said. "Just great. Get us accused of causing moral decline in a semi-sentient native of a planet we've barely begun to explore. Tell me that never happened before."

  Before anyone could respond, Granny landed on the table and slapped the end of the vine down on the edge of the surface. A chunk as long as M'kar's thumb broke off, and the little drac popped the piece into her mouth. She scrambled across the table to sit directly in front of Brea and stuck out her belly as she chewed.

  "Well, duh," M'kar murmured. She and Decker exchanged grins at this further proof that the dracs understood. Granny had been laughing at them for suggesting she eat the leaves, rather than reacting to what might have been an improper or even dangerous request.

  A harsh chemical stink erupted from the little drac's mouth along with a loud belch. Several people stepped back, and most covered their mouths and noses with their hands. M'kar wondered if the smell came from the vine itself, mixing with digestive juices in the drac's mouth, or this solely originated with the drac. It might be a deterrent to taking the creatures on board starships. She had originally asked if the dracs could breathe fire because of the fear of enemy races wanting to use the creatures for offensive/defensive purposes. Genys had discussed the kind of disaster that could result from a squadron of fire-breathing dracs teleporting in from nowhere. Just the panic they generated could cause enough damage to make them dangerous, even if they never burned people or buildings. The crew of the Defender needed to learn all they could about their new little friends to head off any possible disasters. If necessary, the planet would be placed under interdiction, to keep the dracs from being exploited, essentially kidnapped and shipped off to be used as weapons of war.

  "She has a second stomach," Brea reported. "It started to … well, 'inflate' isn't the right word, but it grew, branching off when Granny started chewing. I'm getting acids flowing into the sack … this is going to need a lot more time and study. Too much happening, and my tools aren't sensitive enough."

  "Stop complaining and tell us what's happening," Decker growled. He pointed at Granny, whose belly visibly expanded. "Forget that -- everybody clear out. She's about to --"

  Before he could say "blow," or fiercer words, Granny leaped up into the air. When she reached five meters over the camp, she opened her mouth. The gas leaving her mouth ignited when it hit the air, white hot near her muzzle but going yellow then orange, the further it went from the source. The little drac flew two circles, leaving a streamer of flame behind her. When the flames died, she flew out from the camp, settled on the top of the shed that had been turned into the latrine, spat something out on the hard surface, then flew back to settle down on the table in front of Brea. Then she stuck her stomach out to be scanned.

  "At least she knows what the toilet is for," Decker muttered.

  "Cutter?" Brea said as she scooted forward and held out the scanner to examine Granny again.

  Her lab assistant sighed loudly, picked up a field kit, and marched across the camp to retrieve the deposit.

  "The second stomach is nearly gone, just draining the residue of the acids that …" Brea sighed. "I need my full lab. There's just too much going on to pick it up with this. It's the equivalent of doing a brain transplant with flint knives and willow bark to dull the pain." />
  "You're not taking those little menaces up to the ship until we know a whole lot more about them," Decker said, his voice softer than usual. He turned to face the onlookers. "So? Get out there and learn everything you can, people."

  Granny echoed him, chittering and waving her wings in a gesture that closely resembled an irritated old woman shooing pests out of her house. Five older dracs swooped down, took pieces of the vine, then joined the people they had chosen for interaction. They each caught hold of the crewmen's arms with their forelegs and tugged, leading them out of the camp.

  No one left their tents without recording and scanning equipment, so they could follow wherever the dracs led without delay. Decker sent Security personnel with them, in case someone irritated their dracs and got themselves flamed. At the end of the day, everyone watched the recordings the different groups made.

  The dracs engaged in what appeared to be a hunting exercise. A little lemon-yellow one made the most awful wailing cries, sounding like a child in pain. The wailing drac tumbled to the ground, one wing pressed tight against its body, pretending to be injured. Thrashing, digging up dust and making a racket, it crawled along in the dirt, staying a meter out from the closest patches of underbrush. Scanners caught signs of medium-sized, warm-blooded creatures approaching in groups of three and four. The creatures followed the drac's wailing, visibly painful progress, until at some signal they jumped out of the cover of the leaves and shadows. Trumpeting in what M'kar could only call glee, the other dracs swooped down, spouting flames, setting the long, dark-furred, six-armed creatures on fire. Then they pounced, digging in with talons and teeth, or whipping with their long tails.

  Even after three demonstrations of the hunting technique, there weren't enough pieces left of the attacking creatures to put together a whole one. Those who had witnessed and recorded the hunts gathered up all the burned, shredded pieces they could, in hopes the scientists could learn something. The predators were six-legged, furry reptiles that smelled of sulfur. Their "fur" was more like greasy, semi-flexible tines filled with irritating toxins, than actual hair.

  Chapter Thirteen

  While the hunting was going on, M'kar learned more about the social structure, intelligence and discipline of the dracs. Those of the landing party who stayed in the camp took pieces of the vine and tried to get the dracs around them to eat it. Most people had success, as far as getting dracs to take a piece. However, the dracs put the pieces in their mouths, but didn't chew. They went around with the wad sticking out, like old men holding plugs of soother-weed in their cheeks. Soother-weed dissolved through the day and eased joint aches and other discomforts from growing old. The fire-feeding vine didn't dissolve, as far as anyone could tell. That triggered a discussion that interested the life sciences people but confused the others. How much control did dracs have over their mouths? Could they differentiate between what digestive juices they released, and when?

  The younger dracs wouldn't take the pieces of vine, visibly sickened by the smell. They wouldn't go near any of the crew who had held a piece. Brea ran tests and found residue from the vine clung to the skin, even after washing with standard cleanser.

  "So, what's going on here?" Decker said, when Brea and M'kar and other leaders met to compare notes and recordings gathered throughout the day. "It's something they have to grow into?"

  "Like some foods, depending on the world and culture," Brea offered. "The youngest dracs are allergic to it, but as they get older the negative reaction wears off. With the older ones, perhaps they have to achieve some criteria that we haven't determined yet, before their elders allow them to ingest the vine."

  "Nobody actually chewed it but Granny and the hunters," M'kar said. "So they have rules for when flame is permitted and when it isn't. They've learned to save it for actual need and use."

  "You gotta wonder how they learned those rules," Decker said. "Did somebody train them, centuries ago, and then go away?"

  "You're suggesting the Gatekeepers or someone like them brought the dracs here?" Brea said.

  "What's wrong with thinking that Enlo made them smart enough to learn how to survive in this world?" M'kar asked.

  "There's smart, like trained animals in a zoo or traveling circus," Decker said. "Then there's dangerous smart -- like those parasites that everyone thought were symbiotes for so long, until the hosts went homicidal." He shrugged. "Then there's scary smart, when you realize there's a soul looking back at you, and it freaks you because what's looking at you isn't Human."

  "Who says Enlo only wanted Humans to have souls?" Brea murmured. She nodded slowly. All the weariness of her long day seemed to catch up with her. "That's the biggest, most delicate task of all. Determine just where the dracs stand, in intelligence and social structure, so we know how to protect them, if they need protecting, or if we might need to protect against them."

  "Protecting" was the operative word. While the landing party made progress on communicating with the dracs and learning about their social structure, the Defender circled the planet, searching for any signs that another ship had landed or orbited the planet for more than a planetary day. The fuel residue from the Corona remained in the higher orbital plane, not yet swept away by the solar winds. The energy signature from the Hiver ship remained in the upper atmosphere, proof that they had come to the drac world, but no indication that they had lingered. The Defender altered its orbit to constantly shift, higher and lower in orbit, spiraling around the planet from one pole to the other, never crossing over the same coordinates in any one orbit. To cover the entire planet would take time, but if the Hivers had landed, they would be found.

  M'kar prayed that the Hivers weren't there to be found.

  ~~~~~~

  A hunting party composed of Decker, a biologist, Security, and a med-tech, escorted by their dracs, went out the next day. Everybody walked, because Granny wouldn't let her tribe get into the shuttles.

  "The impression I'm getting is that until the dracs that went with the Corona come back, nobody else is leaving," M'kar explained. "That might include us now. Not quite sure."

  "What happens when we need to leave the planet?" Sh'hari remarked. "Do they firebomb our shuttles to keep us safe?"

  No one had an answer to that.

  Four hours away from camp, Decker’s party came to a meadow. They walked slowly. recording everything they saw and stopping regularly to investigate anything that "blipped" on the sensors. A short, scrubby growth like grass carpeted the open area, and the trees were free of the lacey drapery of a moss-like growth interspersed with the vines ubiquitous to the general area of the camp. Later, M'kar studied the recordings of what happened multiple times, trying to understand if the landscape was different because of the creatures living there, because they changed the soil and air, or the animals lived there because the plants and the chemical landscape were different.

  The hunting party penetrated about one-quarter of the way across the meadow, maybe thirty meters away from the tree line, when the dracs grew agitated. They spiraled up in the air, spreading out, darting from their chosen Humans to the tree line and back. Decker signaled for everyone to stop. As he explained later, even though they were "sugar-coated lizards," with voices like wind chimes on hallucinogens, he trusted them. They were the natives. If they smelled something or heard something that escaped the hunting party's sensors, he wasn't going to ignore them.

  After a minute or two of back-and-forth flight, the dracs settled into a circling formation, over the far side of the meadow. As the four explorers watched, the open area in the pattern shifted, moving across the meadow toward them. Their dracs shrieked like an old-time air attack siren. Seconds later, dozens more dracs popped in from nowhere.

  "I swear, there was a sound, all of them showing up, like a sonic boom," Decker said later, "but a couple octaves higher."

  These dracs had lengths of the fire-producing vine, some two meters long, clutched in their forepaws. They broke off chunks and chewed, joining the c
ircling pattern. So many dracs in the air reminded M'kar later of a flattened tornado. That "eye" of clear sky continued moving across the meadow, toward the hunting party. The new arrivals broke off pieces of vine and shared with the dracs accompanying the hunters. The escort dracs fluttered around the people and squawked furiously at them, fluttering wings, as if trying to push them back into the tree line.

  The dracs stayed ten or twelve meters off the ground. When the circling pattern and the clear space passed the center of the meadow, about a quarter of the dracs dove down, into the open center and close to the ground, nearly skimming the plants carpeting the meadow.

  "Uh … did you see that?" Peers, the med-tech said, very clear on the recording. She pointed, her hand coming in from the left side of the video record, and perfectly framing the growing bulge in the ground. The contrast of her cinnamon-colored skin against the fuzzy-yellow-green texture of the ground cover made it easier to see. She stretched out her other hand, with her medical scanner, showing readings fluctuating in five areas on the screen.

  A turquoise drac swooped down and nearly ran into the scanner, scolding and shaking in very clear fury. Decker swore. The recorded image shuddered and went sideways. Later, Tynders said the Security chief had almost picked her up off her feet and ran. He shouted for them to run for the trees. Somehow, the biologist got the video recorder lens steadied and level, and the computer later made the images easier to see.

  Behind them, the ground fractured and a long, white, dirt-crusted shape half the size of a shuttle erupted to the surface. All the dracs swooped down, shrieking. It swatted at the ones attacking the ring of bumps on the lumpy projection that the biologist team labeled its head. The six legs were roughly arranged in three sets of two, so one end had to be the head and the other the tail, though there was no tail to speak of. As the dracs swooped in, the creature reared up. One set of clawed arms swung at them. The bumps changed colors. Replaying the video recording in extremely slow speeds showed a layer of dirt peeling back from the bumps, uncovering yellow glowing facets. Until they could find one of the creatures and study it, they agreed the yellow lumps would be considered eyes, or at least functioned as sense organs.