by Darrell Bain
“What if you get in trouble?"
“That's what we're here for. The captain can spare us; he can't spare you or the lander."
Masters thought to over fly the ruined city with the floater before landing and exploring, but they began running into trouble even as they approached. A cluster of black dots became visible, floating up from the edge of the ruins. They rapidly became more apparent through the transparent canopy. Masters put a scope to his eye and saw that the entities were bubble shaped and trailed clawed tentacles. He dropped the floater to a lower altitude, intending to fly under them, but they lost height in turn, getting in his way. Two of them managed to impact the floater, clinging first to the skids, then inching their way up toward the body of the little ship. The others trailed behind, following as if they were being signaled.
“What the hell!” One of the rangers exclaimed, jerking his head back. A black tentacle crept into view, plastered flatly against the canopy.
“Easy,” Masters said. “Let's see what it does, but swing back toward the lander. I don't like this already."
Several more of the black tentacles snaked into view, clinging tenaciously in the windblast from the floater's speed. The first one began oozing an oily green fluid. Smoke boiled away from it and whipped away in the wind.
“Goddamn. That's an acid of some kind. Get your speed up! Kristi! Laser it if it breaks through. Lander, report!"
“Lander here."
'Thieu, we've got problems already. Give me Jake."
“Here, Captain."
“Jake, get outside. We're coming in. We've got varmints of some sort clinging to the floater. Shoot them off as we land, but be careful. Don't let any of them get near you.” He glanced away from the threatening breach ofthe floater. Behind them, the remainder of the pack was losing ground, but still trailing.
Kristi leveled her handgun at where she thought the tentacles were. It was becoming hard to tell. As the oily liquid secreted by the tentacles was spread by the windblast, the canopy quickly became opaque beneath it, as if a murky dusk was falling.
Masters screamed the floater in to a landing beside the floater. He heard the hiss ofKristi's laser behind him as he landed, but paid no attention to it, trusting her to protect him while he grounded. A chip of flaming canopy landed on his arm. He threw it off, ignoring the searing pain. A sulfurous odor assaulted his nostrils, coming in through the break in the canopy. From outside, thunder sounded the roar of Jake and his companion firing.
“Outside,” Masters snapped. “Don't let the others get close.” He popped the canopy and added his own fire to that of his companions. The trailing pack of denizens wheeled up and away. Several of them dropped under the concentrated fire. They bucked and writhed on the ground, coiling and jerking. Wisps of smoke trailed upward and were blown away by the wind. The firing died downand Masters looked around, checking for wounds or damage. Inside the floater Wolfgang and the other dogs growled, irritated at being denied an opportunity to fight.
“Just like it was on the ship,” Kristi said. “It's like we're sending out some sort of antagonistic signal. Is their whole world going to be this way?"
The question became rhetorical, for just then Thieu spoke over his body computer. “Captain Masters, the ship wants you."
He quickly interfaced with the ship's computer. “Masters here."
Terrili's face swam into being. “Captain, bring the lander back as soon as you can. We have a possible mutiny here. Captain Hawkins is off the bridge and we have at least one of the Moon City personnel armed and firing outside."
“Try to hold out. We're on our way.” He turned to Kristi who was still scanning in all directions. “Load ‘em up, Kristi, then let's get this floater inside. Thieu, takeoff quickly as we're secured. Fastest possible orbit back to the ship. Let's move."
* * * *
“Was that a shot?” Terrili asked.
“It damn sure was,” Jamie assured her. “Will the door hold?"
“It should, but what's going on here?"
“Della Worley pulled a gun on me. She's trying to instigate a mutiny!"
Terrili immediately accessed Captain Hawkins’ cabin and woke him from a sound sleep. He listened intently to Jamie. His face fell and wrinkles creased his dark forehead beneath the wiry white hair. “Armed, you say? Damn, I haven't even a handgun here, and the rangers are all out of the ship. Recommendations?"
Terrili was perplexed. “Captain, I can't think of a thing, except to hold out here until the rangers get back."
“And in the meantime, let her instigate a mutiny on my ship? I'll have to try to stop her."
Jamie wondered how the captain intended to stop an armed and determined woman with his bare hands. He thought rapidly. “Captain, wait! I have an idea."
Hawkins stopped in mid air, turning too rapidly in the light gravity. He caught his balance against the side of his desk. He gestured pointedly at Jamie's empty holster, wishing he had armed everyone from earth and not just the rangers and Jamie. But they were supposed to be at peace!
“I know,” Jamie said, interpreting the gesture, “but Della isn't really familiar with our pets. She might not think of them as a threat. Let them try first, before you risk yourself.” He felt a knot in his chest at the thought of Fuzzy Britches or Woggly getting hurt, but he knew his idea was valid.
Hawkins hesitated, then nodded. It was a better chance than anything he could do. His only thought had been to gather enough men and women to surround and confront Della before she could recruit followers, if she hadn't already, then overwhelm her, taking casualties as necessary.
Jamie called his compartment. He had to repeat the call before a yawning Fuzzy Britches holographed into being. He rapidly explained to the intelligent cat what the circumstances were. Fuzzy Britches caught on immediately, but he had to be reassured twice that Della Worley was really a threat.
* * * *
Della felt confused and sick. When the door to the bridge closed abruptly in front of her, cutting her off from Jamie, it was like a curtain falling over her life, shutting her off from any chance of ever finding a place in the world. She fired at the door and shrieked at the thunderous explosion of the jet-assisted slug exploding in close quarters. A gaping wound appeared in the exterior door, but behind it there still remained a solid bulkhead. She fired again and flinched as chips of hot matter splattered backward. The bulkhead remained, solid as ever. As a last hope of salvaging something, she gripped her weapon in one hand and Jamie's thought disk in the other, and began retracing her route. The only thing she could think of now was to make contact with the few other Moon City crew aboard and hope they would support her. She started as she saw Jamie's cat and dog approaching her from the opposite direction in the corridor but as they didn't appear threatening, she simply moved to one side, intending to allow them to pass.
“Hello,” Fuzzy Britches said. He wound himself around Della's legs, almost snakelike in the low gravity, and purred as if he wanted a petting.
“I'm busy, now,” Della said, trying to disentangle herself. She dropped her gun hand. Fuzzy Britches hooked up a lightning paw, catching the fabric of her sleeve with his claws. His weight pulled her arm down. Just as she bent to remove the cat, a solid weight slammed into her back and she went down. Before she quite knew what was happening, the cat's needle-sharp teeth bit into her forearm. As she tried to draw away and regain her feet at the same time, her hand loosened its grip on the gun. It fell lazily and Fuzzy Britches batted it away.
Woggly bounced off the adjoining wall and hit her again, and she was down and helpless. Woggly growled gently through the fabric at her chest and she collapsed in despair and began to cry.
“Silly human,” Fuzzy Britches said. “Stay here with Woggly. He won't hurt you."
Della had trouble believing the admonition with the dog's teeth clenched at the throat of her coveralls, but she held still, sobbing uncontrollably now. Fuzzy Britches turned and ran back toward their compartment where
Jeannie was waiting apprehensively. She had tried to make the pets let her come with them but Fuzzy Britches had told her emphatically, “No."
She had been too surprised at the cat giving orders to argue, and by the time she had second thoughts, it was all over. All that remained was to pick up the weapon Fuzzy Britches had skittered away and hold it on the sobbing Moon City woman while she contacted the bridge. Moments later, Jamie and the Captain appeared from opposite directions.
“Why did you do this, Della?” Jamie asked plaintively. He was having trouble believing she was still the same woman he had made love to not long before.
“She's sorry,” Fuzzy Britches said .He moved forward and licked Della's face. She turned away. Let them kill me. There's nothing to live for now.
“She sorry,” the cat repeated, still licking her face.
“Is that right, Della?” Jamie asked.
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God, I'm sorry. Please, just kill me. I don't want to live."
“Captain, can't I—"
“She'll have to be confined,” Hawkins said. “I'm sorry, Jamie, but I can't risk the ship. She may be sorry now, but we have a long way to go yet.” He gently pried loose the weapon from Jeannie's hand and drew the distraught woman to her feet. “Thank you, friends,” he said to the pets. “You did well."
“She sorry,” Fuzzy Britches said once again. “She won't do again."
“I know,” Hawkins said. “She won't have another chance to. You people get back to your duties. Terrili, I'll be at the bridge shortly.” He led Della off, leaving Jamie, Jeannie and the pets in a little circle where Jamie was trying to explain to Jeannie how he had been deceived. He was not notably successful.
* * * *
Jamie was no more successful a day later when Masters questioned him. The ranger Captain wanted to know every particular and soon wormed the basic facts from him.
“Don't feel bad, Jamie,” he said. “You're not the first person who has ever been swayed by sex, and you won't be the last."
“It wasn't just sex,” Jamie protested. “I don't think she really wanted to do what she did."
“You'll have trouble convincing me of that.” Masters responded.
“Fuzzy Britches doesn't either."
“Hm. I don't know the woman that well. He really doesn't?"
“He says she's sorry. I don't think she would be a threat any more."
“It doesn't matter what you think, or me either for that matter. Captain Hawkins says she's to be confined for the rest of the trip."
“Yes. Well, could I see her for a moment?"
Masters considered for a moment and finally relented. He could see no harm in a visit. “I'll go with you."
Della's tears had dried, but she was uncommunicative. In response to Jamie's question of “why", she turned her head.
“I had my reasons."
“Fuzzy Britches says you're sorry,” Jamie told her, while Masters leaned against the compartment door, saying nothing, but keenly observant.
“I'm sorry I ever let that bastard Passing talk me into coming along. I should have just gone on to the mines and let my life be ended there."
Neither of the men understood, and Della would say no more. It remained for Kristi to finally draw her out, under the urging of Fuzzy Britches. The cat was perfectly willing to let bygones be bygones. Kristi, however, kept her own counsel, never letting anyone else know that she sympathized with Della once she heard her story. She could wait.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jamie looked around curiously. Next to the mess facilities, the “study room” was the largest compartment on the ship. It contained computer facilities for accessing the total ship's library and files, a number of rather flimsy looking chairs and desks bolted to the floor and sported some unimaginative holo displays along two walls. It was obvious that Jeannie had had nothing to do with the displays here.
Captain Hawkins, Captain Masters, Jamie, and most of the senior scientists were present, including one whom Jamie hadn't met yet who was from Moon City, a geneticist like himself, he had heard. Apparently the captain had decided to give the rest of the sparse Moon City contingent the benefit of the doubt concerning their loyalty, although it was common knowledge that had Della been given time, she would have tried to recruit them to her cause. The only pet present was Fuzzy Britches. Invitations had been extended to Woggly and Wolfgang, Masters’ dog, but they had declined. Long-winded discussions usually didn't interest them unless they were concerned with fighting in Wolfgang's case, or adventure in Woggly's. Fuzzy Britches was always interested in a gathering. He liked to listen to humans talk among themselves, always marveling at the number of words they needed before any action could be taken.
Captain Hawkins opened the discussion. “Twice now,” he said, “we have entered an Altairian environment and have immediately been attacked by some sort of animals. I have in mind abandoning any farther attempt to contact any Altairians who might still exist and move on to exploration of other worlds. Let's hear first from Captain Masters then I'll open the floor to discussion."
“I'm perfectly willing to move on,” Masters said. “We've been very lucky that we've had only one casualty so far but I think I might know why we were attacked so readily. Maybe their fauna is all-telepathic like the Altairians apparently are themselves."
Jessie Wilham, a biologist spoke up, ignoring Masters’ primary statement. ‘That could be it."
Masters continued. “Maybe our thoughts are just plain antagonistic to them. What do you think Jamie? You have more experience with them than anyone else."
Jamie was slow in answering. He had given some thought to the matter, but had not reached any definite conclusions. “You may be right, Troy, but I just don't know. Just because the Altairians have to use some sort of mechanical thought transmitter to communicate with us doesn't necessarily mean that they are telepathic. It could be just the only way of communicating with what, to them, is a totally alien race. Remember, if they ever tried to signal us from their ship before they all died, we never heard it."
“Actually, the whole matter is rather academic,” someone said. Jamie turned to see who it was, and found a tall, ascetic looking man with cropped brown hair standing. It was Byron Westly, the physicist from the Houston Enclave.
“Why do you say that?” Captain Hawkins asked.
“Simple enough,” Westly replied. “I've had opportunity to study the atmospheric analysis from both the Altairian ship and planet. There are minor differences, which could be expected, but the central fact is that neither atmosphere is suitable for Humans over the long term. As much as I would like to explore this system, or the ship, for that matter, I can't see any future in it."
“There is another matter to consider,” Masters said. His clear blue eyes ranged the room. “I think you all have studied the data from our long-range surveys of this planet, as well as what we brought back from our brief landing. Has anyone noticed how much the ruins of their cities resemble our Enclaves?"
“What are you implying?” Wilham, the Moon City geneticist asked. Unlike most inhabitants of the Moon, she wasn't very tall, suggesting that she had emigrated to the Moon rather than been born there. She wore her bright red hair in two pigtails.
“In the ship a single species of animal attacked us. On the planet a single—but different—species of animal attacked us. Compare that to the rats at the Dallas Enclave and swamp rabbits at the Disney Enclave, just to mention two recent examples. The ruins of their cities are walled, barricaded just like ours. They lied about a dust cloud making their planet uninhabitable. On the original thought disk, and also on the one given to Jamie, they were adamant in wanting us to come to their rescue. I think what they had was the same problem we have: uncontrolled genetic experiments that got out of hand. We fought a battle with Moon City for access to their technology, hoping it would help us solve our problems. I think the aliens came here hoping we could solve theirs.” He grinned wryly. “We seem t
o be a little late, even if we could have helped, which I doubt."
A total silence met his remarks. It was the last thing any member of the expedition had expected to hear. It was an anthropocentric notion of course, expecting the problems of one species to be unique, but nevertheless, it was disheartening. Everyone knew what was at stake. The environment on earth was becoming increasingly hostile, and in space and on the moon, matters were even worse. A declining trade with earth was gradually strangling their means of survival, which was the prime cause of the battle on earth for access to the Altairian technology. Now, it seemed, the type of ship they were in, and possibly a little knowledge from the ecological madhouse of the Altairian generation ship was all they would ever get.
“Then it’ s hopeless!” Jessie Wilham exclaimed.
“Nothing is hopeless,” Hawkins said strongly. That's why I called this meeting. We have two choices: return to earth with the knowledge we have now, or try further—and farther explorations. This isn't the only planet in the galaxy. We have supplies to last a while longer."
“But suppose we don't return. Then everything will be lost.” Jamie didn't notice who made that remark.
Fuzzy Britches interrupted. “Not all. Pets still on earth. We take care of humans.” Hollow laughter greeted this remark, mostly from the humans who had little knowledge or experience with intelligent pets. Hearing the reaction, Fuzzy Britches flicked his tail and jumped down from an alcove where he had been resting. If the humans weren't ready to listen to him yet, he could wait. He wrapped his dignity around him with his tail and stalked from the room.
“Now what was that all about?” Byron Westly asked.
Jamie ignored the physicist and looked to the ranger. Masters winked quickly at him. They both knew animals, and both knew that Fuzzy Britches wouldn't have spoken out of turn idly—certainly not at a serious human meeting.
“Never mind, Hawkins said. “Let's get on with it. Do we return, or do we go on?"
“We should go on,” Jessie said, fingering her pigtails nervously. “We have to. Maybe we can find a planet we can emigrate to."
