On the Planet of Zombie Vampires

by Harry Harrison

  "It's a ghastly mess," cried Uhuru, sneaking toward the door. "I knew I shouldn't have let you back on the ship. Anybody see the aliens?"

  "There's nothing here but partially digested food," said Caine, poking around with androidal scientific curiosity. "He was simply choking. That's most disappointing. I was hoping for an alien."

  "I told him to chew his food better," said Rambette. "But would he listen? No."

  "Anyone for seconds?" asked Captain Blight, wheeling in a cart overloaded with food. He screamed when they all started to punch him. "What are you doing? What's happening? And if you have complaints — so do I. I was stirring up another batch of blintzes and — hey! — somebody get that mouse scuttling across the floor. We can't have any rodents in the dining area."

  Bill stomped down hard with his elephant foot. What crunched underneath didn't feel much like a mouse. He lifted his foot slowly and looked at what was stuck to the sole with horror.

  "Did you get it?" asked Blight.

  "I certainly did," said Bill. "But I don't think it was a mouse. Come look."

  "Fascinating," said Caine, as everybody gathered around to examine Bill's foot.

  "Is that one of the aliens?" moaned Tootsie.

  "It was one," Caine said. "Bill has, unfortunately, squashed it beyond recognition. I would have liked to examine it."

  "Where's it come from?" asked Tootsie. "Did it come busting out of Bruiser?"

  "No," said Blight. "It came busting out of the kitchen. I saw it scuttle out from behind a sack of flour."

  "Are those teeth?" asked Rambette. "Those white things stuck in the middle of all that gore?"

  "They look like teeth to me," Christianson said. "Pretty sharp ones, too."

  "Sure are a lot of them," said Rambette. "A whole lot of them."

  CHAPTER 11

  "I believe that it is fairly safe to say we're not dealing with a vegetarian here," said Caine, examining the remains of the alien with his pocket electronic magnifying microscope and throat spray. "These are the sharpest teeth I've ever seen."

  "You saved my life," said Bruiser, giving Bill a bone-crushing bear hug. "I owe you one."

  "Gasp," gasped Bill. "Gasp."

  "You good guy. So I go with you back down into dat dark place to get my Slasher."

  "Thanks," croaked Bill.

  "I would not advise returning to the station," advised Caine. "Much less paying a visit to the basement. It could be quite hazardous."

  "But we need supplies from there or we won't be able to get off this crappy planet," cried Uhuru. "Somebody's got to go back."

  "That somebody is not going to be me," moaned Tootsie.

  "Quit all that moaning, Tootsie," Rambette commanded sneeringly. "It's getting on my nerves."

  "Would you rather I whined?" she whined.

  "No, go back to moaning," shuddered Rambette. "Whining drives me up the wall. Moaning just gets on my nerves."

  "Back off a little," said Uhuru. "We're all under a great deal of stress. Everybody would feel a lot better if we all took a brief time-out to get our alpha rhythms in order. Let's just stop and smell the roses."

  "Shove your alpha rhythms," snapped Rambette. "I don't believe in that ancient new age stuff."

  "I don't know about anybody else," muttered Bill, "but I could use some sleep."

  "Sleep?" screeched Uhuru. "How can you think of sleep at a time like this?"

  "Easy," yawned Bill. "Have you noticed that none of us have had any sleep since we landed on this planet? How long have we been here? Weeks?"

  "More like days," yawned Tootsie. "Long enough. Too long."

  "You got it in one," said Bill. "And the latrine. I haven't noticed anybody trotting off to the head either."

  "Something wrong with your nose?" Rambette sniffed. "I wouldn't go there for anything. The compost pile smells better than that place."

  "I been twice," belched Bruiser. "No problem."

  "You humans had better get some rest," suggested Caine. "I will stay awake examining what remains of the squashed creature."

  "What if the alien vampires come up and suck us dry while we sleep?" Tootsie shuddered. "I don't want to be turned into a mummy or a zombie, not even a troll."

  "I will keep watch," said Caine. "Androids do not need sleep in the sense that humans do. We doze a little while our batteries are recharging, but that's all."

  "How are your batteries?" asked Uhuru anxiously.

  "My batteries are fine, thank you," said Caine testily. "I suggest you all retire to your bunks and catch up with what you call sack-time. I will keep watch for the vampire aliens."

  "Did anyone close the door to the docking tube?" asked Uhuru. "We don't need any more of those alien creatures in the ship."

  "Larry did," said Curly or Moe. "I saw him myself."

  "I guess it's okay, then," said Uhuru. "But I'm leaving a night-light on, and I'm sleeping in my spacesuit."

  "Big coward," said Bruiser. "Come, Bill. Get stinking dog and let's go."

  Barfer growled and snarled outside the door to Bill's bunk, but a search revealed nothing more sinister than Bruiser's dirty magazines. Bill decided to leave his night-light on and Bruiser muttered sadistic stories about his adventures with Slasher until he fell asleep.

  But when sleep came, it was a troubled and disturbed sleep, filled with horrible nightmares of the creeping and crawling variety. At one point, Bill thought he felt something scuttling over his body and sucking blood out of his neck. Then he dreamed he was lurching around the corridors of the ship bumping into things, a vacant expression in his eyes and his arms held straight out like a zombie.

  "Wake up Bill," said Caine, shaking him by the shoulders. "You've been sleepwalking."

  "Where am l?" Bill asked, confused.

  "You're in the okra room, and the plants are in one of their night cycles. I found you lurching around in the dark bumping into things like a zombie."

  "A zombie! I had a bad dream."

  "You had more than that," said Caine. "Look at your neck."

  "I can't," said Bill.

  "Come on, it's not that bad."

  "No. I can't see my neck without a mirror. It's like looking in my ear. I just can't do it. What's wrong?"

  "I can't be sure here in the darkness," murmured Caine. "But it looks like there are two little blood-encrusted pinpricks on your neck. Let's go back to my laboratory, the light's better there."

  "Maybe," Bill said hesitantly. "But no blood samples."

  "If you insist."

  They were met in the laboratory by Rambette, Tootsie, and Uhuru, who all said that they had been unable to sleep. Uhuru was once again wearing his spacesuit and had hung a string of garlic cloves around his neck.

  "Bill looks pale," gasped Rambette. "What's wrong?"

  "It would appear to this educated observer that an alien has been feeding upon him," said Caine, moving close to Bill and taking a good look at his neck. "This is most interesting from a clinical standpoint. How do you feel?"

  "I feel like I've been lurching around in the dark bumping into stuff," said Bill. "Aside from a few bruises, I'm okay. Just a little drained."

  "I knew it!" moaned Tootsie. "They're going to pick us off one by one. I thought you were going to keep watch, Caine."

  "I only dozed off once," said the android. "Scientific investigation is a most strenuous activity."

  "Look what I found by Bill's bunk," said Bruiser, coming into the room holding a fuzzy object. "We got to get my Slasher right away."

  "What is it?" wailed Tootsie.

  "Another shed skin," Caine said, taking it from Bruiser and spreading it out on his potting bench. "Evidently the creature molted again after it had drinkies from Bill. You can see it is much larger than the one he unfortunately stomped."

  "Uglier, too," said Rambette, poking it with one of her knives. "And even more horrendous, if that's possible."

  The molted skin was about the size of a large dog. It was clear from the remains that t
he alien at this stage of development was mostly teeth, fangs, and claws. It had a huge, sloping head and a spiked tail as long as one of Bill's right arms. Everything was covered with a thick coat of orange hair and purple warts.

  "That looks real dangerous, not to mention disgusting," said Uhuru, adjusting his garlic necklace. "A monster that size could do serious damage to a person."

  "Don't forget that its dimensions have increased beyond what we see here," said Caine. "The alien shed its skin because it grew out of it, and therefore in all probability it is now quite gigantic. My scientific curiosity is aroused. I wonder what its maximum size will be? It is possible there is no limit to its growth as long as its food supply holds out."

  "I don't think that I like being called a food supply," complained Bill.

  "Everyone here is a potential food supply," said Caine. "Except, of course, for myself. I seriously doubt that these creatures would find androids a suitable source of nutrition."

  "Well, I ain't gonna be no lunch for no monster," said Bruiser.

  "And that goes double for me," said Uhuru.

  "You egocentric humans fail to grasp the far-reaching implications of our extraordinary discovery," sniffed Caine, inspecting a dangling leg. "We have an incredibly adaptable organism here, one that can assume many different shapes and forms."

  "These horrors do come in all sizes," said Rambette. "As near as I can see, they tend to lean more toward large and larger. They all give me the creeps, except when they were little and cute."

  "The aliens must be viewed as an opportunity to advance the body of mankind's knowledge," Caine said. "Each stage of development is fascinating in its own right and should be studied down to its last molecule."

  "You'd feel differently if you were sitting on an alien's plate," said Tootsie.

  "I rather doubt that," said Caine dryly, measuring the carcass with a yardstick and taking notes in a small book. "I am an objective observer at all times."

  "I observe you're getting alien gunk all over that yardstick," said Rambette. "And some of it is dripping on your shoe."

  "I shall be famous," said Caine. "This will make a wonderful research paper. I'll be published in all the best journals. As a botanist I faced a long and boring future, but the future's not what it used to be anymore. Everything has changed. As a researcher specializing in disgusting aliens, I'll be known across the universe. I'll be the number one expert. I'll — hey! — who stole my fur and feathers? They were right here a little while ago."

  "Maybe they walked away," said Tootsie.

  "This is no time for levity," snapped Caine. "This is serious business. We must compare the chemical makeup of the different stages from which we have samples. Where are the scrapings I took from Bill's foot? Has everything disappeared?"

  "Maybe you're turning into an absentminded professor," suggested Rambette.

  "Everybody help me, look around," ordered Caine. "I must find my samples."

  Reluctantly, the crew started opening drawers and peering behind potted plants and bags of fertilizer. Only Uhuru refused to join in the hunt, saying he wasn't going to have anything to do with the horrifying aliens, science or no science.

  "Lose something?" asked Captain Blight as he walked into the room with Mr. Christianson.

  "My samples," said Caine. "I must find them."

  "Oh, that old junk? I threw it all on the compost pile."

  "You what?"

  "My plants have to live, too," Blight said haughtily. "We can't let the okra die just because we're busy fighting aliens."

  "Those were valuable scientific specimens," snapped Caine.

  "They're compost now," Christianson observed. "We just finished turning the pile."

  "My career is in tatters," Caine whined. "We must get more samples. Everybody go back to sleep. I'll keep watch and try to catch an alien when it comes to feed."

  "Do I look like bait?" Rambette asked angrily.

  "I'm never sleeping again," moaned Tootsie.

  "Bill and me gonna get Slasher," said Bruiser. "When I sleep is gonna be wit da axe at side in bed."

  "Getting Slasher back is a good idea," Caine said quickly. "And while you're down there in the cavern, why don't you sniff a pod or two. I wasn't finished with the fur and feathers."

  "I ain't sniffing no pods or nothin'!" roared Bruiser. "Bill, he can maybe do dat."

  "If you want pods, get them yourself," Bill snapped. "I'm officially retiring from the pod-gathering business as of right now."

  "I vote for getting the ship out of here as soon as possible, if not sooner," said Uhuru. "I've got a list of stuff we need from the station. While you're down there dodging aliens and facing certain death, you might as well pick up a few things for me."

  "Do I detect a slight reluctance on your part to leave the ship, Uhuru?" asked Rambette. "It couldn't be that you're turning coward on us?"

  "Not me," said Uhuru. "I simply thought it would be a more efficient use of our resources if I stayed here and supervised repairs while you all did the gathering. Someone has to be in charge, you know. Otherwise we won't get anything done."

  "Watch out for that mantle of responsibility stuff," said Blight. "Once you put it on, it's hard to drop it."

  "I'll take that chance," sniffed Uhuru.

  "Who elected you to be boss of the repair operation, anyway?" asked Tootsie. "I don't remember casting my ballot. Curly and Bill both know this ship better than you do."

  "We can draw straws," said Uhuru hopefully. "I just happen to have some plastic tubing that would do."

  "Forget your straws," said Rambette. "What we need to do first is —"

  "Curly!" cried two of the clones as they charged into the room. "An alien took Curly!"

  CHAPTER 12

  "Calm down, if you can," Caine advised the extremely agitated clones. "What did he look like?"

  "Curly? He looks just like Moe and me, only a whole lot uglier. You know what Curly looks like."

  "No. The alien. What did the alien look like?"

  "The usual. All hairy, bumpy, ugly. Lots of teeth. A funny tail."

  "How big was it?"

  "Bigger than Curly. Uglier, too."

  "It's still growing," said Caine. "I do wish you would give me a more detailed description. I can hardly write ' funny tail' in my journal."

  "Listen, bowb, we've got to get Curly back," snapped Bill. "Curly first, research later."

  "That's right," said Tootsie. "We can't let the aliens eat Curly or suck all the life force out of him and turn him into a mummy."

  "That's real compassionate of you, Bill," said Rambette. "I didn't think you had it in you."

  "I don't," admitted Bill. "I was actually more concerned about the fact that he's the only one who knows how to fix the autopilot."

  "Clear thinking," said Blight. "I slept through that part in officer's school."

  "They don't teach autopilot repair anymore," said Christianson. "It's too complicated for us officers. If we had to learn stuff like that we wouldn't have time to learn the real important things like how to give lavish parties, raise our sperm count, and brutalize the troops. And, if I might be so bold as to suggest it, the MP should bring that stinking dog. It might help; maybe Barfer can sniff out a trail."

  "He's probably stuffing his face in the okra room," said Bill. "Where else would he be?"

  Sure enough, Barfer was chowing down on some Abelmoschus humungous, happily stumbling from one end of the bed to the other, picking out only the tenderest, tastiest buds. Blight was about to kill the grazing dog but was convinced not to when Caine informed him that a selective harvest would stimulate new growth in the established plants and was, indeed, a recommended procedure.

  They picked up the trail outside Curly's door. It was not a terribly difficult trail to follow, being a strip of shedded orange fur a yard wide going down the corridor. It led them to what used to be the door to the docking tube.

  The door was a twisted and destroyed wreck, lying in pieces on
the floor. All the edges were melted, as if they had been sizzled by a giant welding torch or hosed down by a caustic acid.

  "This is awful," said Uhuru, scribbling on a piece of paper. "I'll have to revise my shopping list. Pick me up a door if you find one."

  "Such power," said Caine admiringly, hefting a chunk of broken door. "They are truly amazing creatures."

  "They're creeping horrors, if you ask me," shivered Rambette. "Let's find Curly and get the damn ship ready to go. If you want to study them, do it on your own time."

  The station appeared just as they had left it, except for about a thousand crisscrossing orange fur trails of all sizes. The crew huddled together in the command center.

  "We've got to split up into groups," said Bill, tearing Uhuru's shopping list into strips and giving everyone a piece. "This place is too large to explore as one unit. You'll each take a list and find the items on it. But be careful about wandering off on your own — it might have a negative impact on your life."

  "Look at all these fur tracks," moaned Tootsie. "There must be hundreds of these creatures up and about. I don't think even being here is a good idea. I mean, what if the creatures already had Curly for lunch? We ought to just fix the ship and get off this miserable planet."

  "Our first objective is to find our shipmate Curly," said Bill, assuming his best Trooper stance. "Not only is he our good buddy — but we can't fly the ship without him, so fixing the ship won't help much. Our second objective is to find the material Uhuru needs for repairs."

  "Our third objective is to gather specimens," said Caine. "Remember, scientific observation should never be curtailed, even if we are currently fighting for our very lives."

  "You want specimens?" asked Bruiser. "Then you come to da basement wit me and Bill? Plenty action dere, you bet."

  "I'm sticking with Rambette," said Captain Blight. "She's armed to the teeth."

  "I made a flamethrower out of a welding torch," said Larry or Moe happily. "If I see anything move that isn't one of us, I'm going to fry it on the spot."

  "I wish I had big chainsaw," said Bruiser. "I'd massacre dem Texas-style like in da video."