by Keith Laumer
“Watch for baby!” Sir Orfeo yelled, and I could barely hear his voice through the thudding and pounding. Then the little one stalked out of the dust, tossing his head to help him swallow down what he had in his mouth. Sir Orfeo brought his gun up and the cub was coming straight at me, and the gun tracked him and went off with a flat crackkk! that kicked a pit the size of a washtub in the rock beside him and the young one changed direction and trotted off and Sir Orfeo let him go.
The dust was blowing away now, except for what number two was still kicking up with one foot that was twitching, still trying to run. Lord Desroy and Sir Orfeo went over to it, and the hunter used his pistol to put it out of its misery. It went slack and a gush of fluid sluiced out of its mouth and it was quiet.
“In sooth, the beast raised a din to make the ground quake,” Lord Desroy called in a light-hearted tone. He walked around the creature, and Sir Orfeo went over to the other one, and about then I got my joints unlocked and trot-ted after him. Sir Orfeo looked up as I came up and gave me a grin.
“I think perhaps you’ll make a gun-boy yet, Jongo,” he said. “You were a bit slow coming up, but you held steady as a rock during the charge.”
And for some reason I felt kind of ashamed of myself, knowing how it had really been.
Lord Desroy spent a quarter of an hour taking movies of the dead animals; then we made the hike back to the car.
“We were lucky, Desroy,” Sir Orfeo told him as we settled into our seats.
“Takes a bit of doing to knock over a fine brace on the first stalk! I suggest we go back to the yacht now and call it a day-”
“What foolery’s this?” Lord Desroy boomed out. “Wi’ a foison o’ quarry to hand, ye’d skulk back to thy comforts wi’out further sweat or endeavor?”
“No use pushing our luck-”
“Prithee, spare! Ye spoke but now of bull-devil, lurking in the crags yonder-”
“Plenty of time to go after them later.” Orfeo was still smiling, but there was an edge to his voice. He didn’t like to have anyone argue with him about a hunt.
“A pox on’t!” Lord Desroy slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair.
“Dost dream I’d loiter in my chambers with game abounding? Drive on, I say, or I’ll take the tiller self!”
Sir Orfeo slapped the drive lever in and the engines started up with a howl.
“I was thinking of the Lady Raire,” he said. “If you’re that dead-set on running us all ragged, very well! Though what the infernal rush is, I’m sure I don’t know!”
As usual, the Lady Raire sat by quietly, looking cool and calm and too beautiful to be real. Lord Desroy got out a silver flask and poured out yellow wine for her and himself, then lolled back in his chair and gazed out at the landscape rushing past.
An hour brought us to the foothills of the range that had been visible from the yacht. The going was rougher here; we switched over to tracks for the climb. Lord Orfeo had quit humming to himself and was beginning to frown, as if maybe he was thinking about how nice it would be to be back in his apartment aboard the yacht, having a bath and a nice dinner, instead of being in for another four hours, minimum, in the car. We came out on a high plateau, and Sir Orfeo pulled the car in under a steep escarpment and opened up and climbed down without a word to anybody. I had his crater-rifle ready for him; I took the other guns and got out and Lord Desroy looked around and said something I didn’t catch.
“They’re here, right enough,” Sir Orfeo answered him, sounding mad. He walked off and Lord Desroy and the girl trailed. I had to scramble up on rough ground to get to my proper position off to Sir Orfeo’s right. He was headed into a narrow cut that curved up and away in deep shadow. The sun still seemed to be in the same spot, directly overhead. My suit kept me comfortable enough, but the heat reflecting back from the stone scalded my face.
Sir Orfeo noticed me working my way along up above him and snarled something about where the devil did I think I was going; I didn’t try to answer that. I’d gotten myself onto a ledge that ran along twenty feet above the trail, with no way down. I stayed abreast of Sir Orfeo and looked for my chance to rejoin the party.
We kept going this way, nobody talking, the happy look long gone from Lord Desroy’s face now, the Lady Raire walking just to his left, Sir Orfeo out in front twenty paces. The trail did a sharp jog to the left, and I had to scramble to catch up; as I did, I saw something move on the rocks up ahead.
Being above the rest of them, I had a view past the next outcropping that hung out over the trail; the movement I saw was just a flicker of something in the shadows, spread but flat on the rock like a giant leech. I felt my heart take a jump and jam itself up in my throat and I tried to yell and choked and tried again:
“Sir Orfeo! Up ahead! On the right!”
He stopped dead, swung his gun around and up, at the same time motioned to the others to halt. Lord Desroy checked for just a moment; then he started on up toward Sir Orfeo. The animal-creature-thing-whatever it was-moved again. Now I could see what looked like an eye near the front, surrounded by a fringe of stiff reddish hairs. I got just the one quick look before I heard the whisper of a Z-gun from below, and the thing jerked back violently and disappeared into black shadow. Down below, Lord Desroy was lowering his gun.
“Well, that tears it!” Sir Orfeo said in a too loud voice. “Nice bit of shooting, Desroy! You failed to keep to your position, fired without my permission, and then succeeded in wounding the beggar! Anything else you’d care to try before we go into that cranny after him?”
“Methinks you skirt insolence, Orfeo,” Lord Desroy started.
“Not intentionally, as I’m damned!” Orfeo’s face was red; I could see the flush from where I was perched, twenty feet above him. “I’ll remind you I’m master of the hunt, I’m responsible for the safety of the party-”
“I’m out of patience wi’ cautious counsel!” Lord Desroy roared. “Shall I be merely cheated o’ my sport whilst I at-tend your swoons?”
Sir Orfeo stared to answer that, then caught himself and laughed.
“’Pon my word, you have a way about you, Milord! Now, I suggest we give over this tomfoolery and give a thought to how we’re going to get him out of there!” He turned and squinted up toward the place where the thing had disappeared.
“I warrant ye make mockery of me,” Lord Desroy growled. He jerked his head in my direction. “Despatch yon natural to draw forth the beast!” Sir Orfeo looked up, too, then back at his boss.
“The boy’s new, untrained,” he said. “That’s a risky bit of business-”
“D’ye aver thy gun-boy lacks spirit, then?”
Sir Orfeo gave me a sharp look. “By no means,” he said. “He’s steady enough. Jongo!” His voice changed tone. “Press on a few yards, see if you can rout the blighter out.”
I didn’t move. I just squatted where I was and stared down at him. The next instant, something smashed against the wall beside my head and knocked me sprawling. I came up spitting dust, with my head ringing, and Lord Desroy’s second shot crashed close enough to drive stone chips into my cheek.
“Sir Orfeo!” I got the yell out. “He’s shooting at me!”
I heard Sir Orfeo shout and I rolled over and looked for a hole to dive into and in that instant saw the wounded leech-thing flow down across the rock, disappear for a second behind a spur, come into view again just above the trail, about thirty feet above Lord Desroy, between him and the Lady Raire. It must have made some sound I couldn’t hear; before I could shout, Lord Desroy whirled and brought his gun up and it crackled and vivid shadows winked on the rocks and the animal leaped out and down, broad as a blanket, leathery dark, right into the gun. Lord Desroy stood his ground, firing steadily into the leech-thing until the instant it struck full on him, covering him completely. It gathered itself together and lurched toward the Lady Raire, standing all alone in the trail, sixty feet behind where I was. As it moved, it left a trail of what was left of Lord Desroy. Sir Orfe
o had fired once, while the thing was in the air. He ran toward it, stopped and took aim and fired again. I saw a movement off to the right, up the trail, and a second leech-thing was there, coming up fast behind Sir Orfeo, big as a hippopotamus, wide and flat and with its one eye gleaming green.
I yelled. He didn’t look up, just stood where he was, his back to the leech, firing, and firing again. The wounded leech was close to the Lady Raire now, and I saw then that she had no gun, and I remembered that Lord Desroy had taken it and had been carrying it for her. She stood there, facing the thing, while Sir Orfeo poured the fire into it. At each shot, a chunk flew from its back, but it never slowed-and behind Sir Orfeo the other one was closing the gap. Sir Orfeo could have turned his fire on it and saved himself; but he never budged. I realized I was yelling at the top of my lungs, and then I remembered I had a gun, too, slung across my back to free my hands for climbing. I grabbed for it, wasted a second or more fumbling with it, got it around and to my shoulder and aimed and couldn’t find the firing stud and had to lower it and look and brought it up again and centered it on the thing only yards from Sir Orfeo’s exposed back and squeezed The recoil almost knocked me off my feet, not that it was bad, but I wasn’t expecting it. I got back on target and fired again, and again; and it kept coming. Six feet from Sir Orfeo the thing reared up, tall as a grizzly, and I got a glimpse of a yellow underside covered with shredding hooks, and I fired into it and then it was dropping down on Sir Orfeo and at the last possible second he moved, but not far enough, and the thing struck him and knocked him rolling, and then he and it lay still. I traversed the gun across to the other beast and saw that it was down, ten feet from Milady Raire, bucking and writhing, coiling back on itself. It flopped up against the side wall and rolled back down, half on its back, and lay still and the echoes of its struggle went racketing away up the ravine. I heard Sir Orfeo make a moaning sound where he lay all bloody and the Lady Raire looked up and her eyes met mine and we looked at each other across the terrible silence.
CHAPTER THREE
Sir Orfeo was still alive, with all the flesh torn off the back of his thighs and the glistening white bone showing.
He caught at my arm when I bent over him.
“Jongo-your job now-the Lady Raire . . .”
I was shaking and tears were running down my face. I tried not to look at his horrible wounds.
“Buck up, man,” Sir Orfeo’s voice was a groan of agony. “I’m depending on you . . . keep her safe . . . your responsibility, now. . . .”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll take care of her, Sir Orfeo.”
“Good . . . now . . . water. Fetch water . . . from the car . . . .”
I ran off to follow his orders. When I came back the Lady Raire met me, looking pale and with dust sticking to the perspiration on her forehead. She told me that he’d sent her to investigate a sound and then dragged himself to where his filament pistol had fallen and blown his head off.
I used a crater-rifle to blast shallow pockets under the overhanging rock beside the trail; she helped me drag the bodies to them. Then we went back down to the car. We carried our guns at the ready, but nothing moved in all that jumble of broken rock. Sir Orfeo had been lucky about finding game, all right.
The Lady Raire got into the driver’s seat and headed back down the way we’d come. When we reached level ground, she stopped and looked around as if she didn’t know which way to go. I tapped on the glass and her head jerked around. I think she had forgotten I was there. Poor Lady Raire, so all-alone.
“That direction, Milady,” I said, and pointed toward where the yacht was, out of sight over the horizon.
She followed my directions; three hours later we came up over a low ridge and there was the yacht, glittering far away across the desert. Another forty-five minutes and we pulled up in front of the big cargo door. She jumped down and went to it and twinkled her fingers on a polished metal disc set in the hull beside it. Nothing happened. She went around to the smaller personnel door and the same thing happened. Then she looked at me. Having her look at me was an event even then.
“We cannot enter,” she said in a whisper. “I mind well ’twas Sir Orfeo’s custom to reset the entry code ’ere each planetfall lest the yacht be rifled by aborigines.”
“There’s got to be a way,” I said. I went up and hammered on the panel and on the control disc and walked all the way around the yacht and back to the door that I had sneaked in by, that first night, and tried again, but with no luck. A terrible, hollow feeling was growing inside me.
“I can shoot a hole in it, maybe,” I said. My voice sounded weak in the big silence. I unslung the crater-rifle and asked her to step back, and then took aim from ten feet and fired. The blast knocked me down, but the metal wasn’t even scorched.
I got to my feet and brushed dust off my shins, feeling the full impact of the situation sinking in like the sun that was beating down on my back. The Lady Raire looked at me, not seeing me.
“We must . . . take stock of what supplies may be in the car,” she said after a long pause. “Then can’st thou make for thyself a pallet here in the shadow of the boat.”
“You mean-we’re just going to sit here?”
“If any rescue comes, we must be close by the yacht, else they’ll not spy us in this endless waste.”
I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Milady, we can’t stay here.”
“Indeed? Why can we not?” She stood there, a slim, aristocratic little girl, giving me a level look from those cool gray eyes.
“I don’t know much about the odds against anybody finding us, but we’ve got a long wait, at best. The supplies in the car won’t last long. And the heat will wear us down. We have to try to find a better spot, now, while we’re still strong.” I tried to sound confident, as if I knew what I was doing. But my voice shook. I was scared; scared sick. But I knew I was right about moving on.
“’Tis a better thing to perish here than to live on in the wilderness, without hope.”
“We’re not dead yet, Milady. But we will be if we don’t do something about it, now.”
“I’ll tarry here,” she said. “Flee if thou wilt, Jongo.”
“Sir Orfeo told me to take care of you, Milady. I’m going to do my best to follow his order.”
She looked at me coolly. “Wouldst force me, then?”
“I’m afraid so, Milady.”
She walked to the car stiffly; I got into my usual seat in back and she started up and we headed out across the desert.
We drove until the sun set and a huge, pock-marked moon rose, looking a lot like the old one back home, except that it was almost close enough to touch. We slept then, and went on, still in the dark. Day came again, and I asked the Lady Raire to show me how to drive so I could relieve her at the wheel. After that, we drove shift on, shift off, holding course steady to the northwest. On what I estimated was the third day, Earth-style, we reached a belt of scrub-land. Half an hour later the engine made a gargly sound and died, and wouldn’t go again.
I went forward on foot to a rise and looked over the landscape. The scrub-dotted waste went on, as far as I could see. When I got back to the car, the Lady Raire was standing beside it with a filament pistol in her hand.
“Now indeed is our strait hopeless,” she held the gun out to me. “Do thy final duty to me, Jongo.” Her voice was a breathless whisper. I took the gun; then I whirled and threw it as far as I could. When I faced her, my hands were shaking.
“Don’t ever say anything like that again!” I said. “Not ever!”
“Would you then have me linger on, to wither in this heat, shrivel under the sun-”
I grabbed her arm. It was cool, as smooth as satin. “I’m going to take care of you, Milady,” I said. “I’ll get you home again safe, you’ll see!”
She shook her head. “I have no home, Jongo; my loyal friends are dead-”
“I’m still alive. And my name’s not Jongo. It’s Billy Danger. I’m human, too. I�
�ll be your friend.”
She looked straight at me. It was the first time she ever really looked at me. I looked back, straight into her eyes. Then she smiled.
“Thou art valiant, Billy Danger,” she said. “How can I then shrink from duty?
Lead on, and I’ll follow while my strength lasts.”
The car was stocked with food concentrates, plus a freezer full of delicacies that would have to be eaten first, before they spoiled. The problem was water. The tanks held about thirty gallons, but with the distiller out of action, there’d be no refilling them. There were the weapons and plenty of ammunition, first-aid supplies, some spare communicators, goggles, boots. It wasn’t much to set up housekeeping on.
For the next week, I quartered the landscape over a radius of about five miles, looking for a spring or water hole, with no luck. By that time, the fresh food was gone-eaten or spoiled, and the water was down to two ten-gallon jugs full.
“We’ll have to try a longer hike,” I told the Lady Raire. “There may be an oasis just one ridge farther than I’ve gone.”
“As you wish, Billy Danger,” she said, and gave me that smile, like sunrise after a long night.
We packed up the food and water and a few extras. I slung a Z-gun over my shoulder, and started off at twilight, after the worst of the day’s heat. It was monotonous country, just hilly enough to give us a long pull up to one low crest after another and an ankle-turning slog down the far side. I steered due west, not because the prospects looked any better in that direction, but just because it was easier to steer straight toward the setting sun.
We did about twenty miles before dark, another forty in two marches before the sun rose. I worried about the Lady Raire, but there was nothing I could do that I wasn’t already doing. We slogged on toward the next ridge, hoping for a miracle on the other side. And always the next side looked the same.
We rested in the heat of the long day, then marched on, into the glare of the sun. And about an hour before sunset, we saw the cat.
