Margate blanched and stumbled backwards, away from the furious conflict. Luke stood slowly, fascinated by what he was witnessing. It looked like a territorial conflict, but it was like nothing he'd ever seen before from the normally placid creatures. Further cries floated above the low veldt and were answered one after the other.
The furious combat was over in seconds. The vanquished slithered off into the long grass. The victor lifted its head, snuffing the air. It shifted its body, and appeared to he dazzled for a moment by the firelight. It shifted its body again, regaining focus. It fixed its gaze on Margate and sniffed at the air again.
“W-what's it doing?” said Margate. “Get the rifle."
“Just stay perfectly still, Mister Margate,” Luke told him quietly.
The slither hound shot across the campsite, straight at Margate and launched itself. A low vibrating cry came from somewhere deep inside it. The creature was on him before either man could react.
Margate cried out, then screamed. “Get it off me! Get it off me!"
Margate had fallen back, the hound fixed to one leg. It shifted position again, covering one arm, then planted itself on the big man's chest. Margate cried out with each new position, barely a pause between sounds. The slither hound was moving so quickly.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone, sliding off into the darkness. Damn they moved fast. Margate lay on the ground, groaning, rocking from side to side and clutching at his chest.
“It bit me,” he groaned. “The damn thing bit me."
More sounds came from all around them. Luke scanned the surrounding area nervously. He had to do something and quickly.
Stooping, he lifted Margate to his feet, straining with the man's bulk. Draping Margate's arm over his shoulder, he half carried him to the vehicle, and pushing him bodily inside. He slammed the door, crossed to the other side and clambered in himself. The cries were coming from all around them now.
“Here, let me see,” he said to Margate.
“Arghh, it hurts,” Margate said through gritted teeth and held out his arm. Three large puncture wounds seeped blood, red and angry circles surrounding them.
“These aren't bites. They look more like some sort of sting."
“I don't care what the hell they look like. Do something!” He still held his other hand clutched to the place on his chest. From all around them came the cries of the slither hounds and they were getting closer. Margate leaned back against the door, his face screwed up in pain.
Luke shuffled around for the med kit, but he already knew there was nothing appropriate inside it and he had nothing more than simple first aid training. He had some painkillers and antiseptic. That would do for the moment, but he'd have to get Margate to the colony hospital. He only hoped the wounds hadn't been injected with some sort of venom.
“Do something,” Margate breathed.
Luke shook his head and set about cleaning the wounds. He slapped on an analgesic patch, then, having second thoughts, slapped on another for good measure. He kept glancing out the window, checking that no more of the slither hounds were in range. As he touched the area around the wounds, Margate sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth.
“You'll pay for this, McEvoy,” he hissed. “...pay for this."
Margate's eyelids fluttered, and his features slowly lost the rictus of pain. It was far too soon for the analgesics to have kicked in. Luke bit his lip. If Margate had been poisoned, then he was in real trouble. Checking that he'd seen to all the wounds, he shifted Margate's legs and made sure that the man's bulk was propped securely in the corner of the cab. He could leave their gear. There was no way he was going outside again. The important thing was to get Margate to effective help, and soon. He kicked the engine into life and glanced across at his client. The man's head was lolling on his chest.
Luke cursed once, and gritting his teeth, accelerated out of the campsite.
* * * *
The trip back was hell. He had to stop every couple of hours to check Margate's wounds and with each stop, the inflammation appeared to become worse. The area surrounding each puncture was red and swollen, clearly uncomfortable. At least Margate no longer appeared to be in pain. He opened his eyes from time to time and looked blearily across the passing grassland while mumbling to himself, his expression glassy. Whatever was in the wound was acting like some sort of soporific. Occasionally, he dabbed at Margate's forehead with a moist cloth. Luke kept glancing at the man, seeing his livelihood crashing down around his ears.
It took nearly two days continuous driving for them to reach transmitter range. The emergency copter was with them in under two hours. They whisked Margate away, getting a full account of events on the way.
They landed at the base and whisked Margate away, with Luke looking on nervously.
* * * *
Three days later, he sat in Alan Jackson's office, waiting to be pilloried. Jackson was the local official and the prime authority in the region. Luke didn't have long to wait.
Jackson stepped into the room and nodded to him, a grim expression on his face.
“Luke. How are you?"
“I'm fine. I'm more worried about Margate."
Jackson's expression eased a touch. “Oh, he's fine too. He's already taken off. Once they'd removed what was in those wounds, he was just fine.” He waved a hand dismissively.
Jackson propped himself on the edge of his desk, supporting himself with his hands behind him. He looked as if he was waiting for something.
Luke knew why he was here. This was it. “I'm sure he had a few things to say, though."
“Oh, Margate was screaming legal action from one side of the system to the other, but when we told him he'd effectively been laid by one of the local fauna, he shut up pretty quickly."
Luke paused. “I'm not sure I understand."
“He unknowingly found himself a part of the slither hound's reproductive cycle. The slither hound that attacked him was male. Only it wasn't an attack. The first contact, the first one that jumped on him, it must have been a female. The doctors found traces of spore all over Margate's clothes. It was pretty easy to work out what happened. The spore causes an itching reaction, the subject scratches and opens the skin enabling the spore to burrow into the flesh. The host transports it to another location where the male slither hound then fertilizes it. The scent that's produced acts as an attractant. The male slither hound doesn't have a sting. What it's got is a reproductive organ. In effect, we told Margate he'd been humped by Carlin's World's variant of a dog. We threatened to publicize the fact wherever we could.” Jackson grinned.
Luke's head was suddenly full of the picture of an old Aunt that the family dog had taken a shine to. Every time she visited, the family dog had wrapped its forelegs around the reluctant woman's legs and pumped away as she step-slid around the house, trying to ignore it. It didn't help that the slither hound looked so much like a Cocker Spaniel. He laughed aloud. “I would really have liked to see the look on his face when you told him."
“But,” said Jackson, becoming more serious, “it brings up another issue. Your little hunting activities are the reason this occurred in the first place. We presume that the veldt bull acts as the normal host for transport of the spore. We've had reports of some recent seismic activity near the area where you first made camp. Seems it coincided with the slither hound's breeding cycle. It only happens once every few years. It would explain the scarcity of veldt bulls in the area and the need for the slither hound to find a substitute. Margate just happened to be the candidate."
Luke nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I can see that making sense."
“But I'm afraid we're going to have to call a halt to those hunting expeditions. It has clearly become dangerous and if it has a chance of disrupting the local fauna's life cycle, we can't afford to turn a blind eye. But, more importantly, if it gets out that there's a threat to people, it's going to damage our potential as a colony world."
This was it. Luke had known what was c
oming and he'd already been thinking hard. “Listen, Alan. I was getting a little tired of it anyway—tired of the animals. I mean animals like Margate, not the local sort."
Jackson nodded. “So what's your alternative?"
Luke considered for a moment, framing the words for the idea that had been running through his mind. He'd already had nearly three days to think about it. “You know it's a beautiful planet—unspoiled, and I've been thinking. There's more than one way to bring in a few bucks. I might need your help, but I think we're well enough established out here now to be more than an outpost colony world. I'm sure there's someone out there that'd pay to get away from the rat race back home. Why pander to those who would spoil the place anyway? If what you say about the slither hounds is true, give it a bit of time for the veldt bull population to become re-established, and it'll be safe to take people out there again, won't it? But this time, we wouldn't even have to let them out of the vehicle. Take them out there with recorders instead of rifles this time. It may take some time, but I could set up some sort of lodge out there."
Jackson smiled and nodded. “It will take some time."
“I know, but I think I know enough about the place by now to be able to do it. And there'd be work for others out there if they wanted in. We don't really want to become an established part of an alien breeding cycle, now do we? But it's funny how Nature will have its way."
[END]
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